1

It takes a great deal of conviction to do what I do. It's not a sport that can be learned or a game that can be played, but an art that takes a certain finesse and understanding.

My name is Jasper Davies, and I teach straight guys the pleasure of dick.

I, as a gay man, have absolutely no interest in another gay man. That isn't to say I can't be attracted to one; I have been before, but the moment I find out they are gay, or bi, or even curious, they immediately lose all appeal to me.

I want bona-fide, cunt-loving straight boys. I settle for nothing less.

It can certainly make life difficult, but the results are mind numbing, toe clenching, bone jarring, and body aching. In the end, it is always worth it.

There was a time when gay men were good enough for me; that was before I met Duncan. Duncan flipped my world upside down. When I met Duncan, I was a freshman in college and starting my experimentation phase, freshly open and out myself, though I'd been sure of my sexuality and been with a man before I escaped to college. Duncan was as straight as they came, straight as an arrow, straight laced, straight-up straight. He was tan and buff and hot, he oozed southern charm, he was smart, and he was perfect.

I wanted him like you wouldn't believe.

I spent a full year chasing Duncan, gently easing him into a new way of thinking until finally he gave in and slept with me. That night changed both of our lives forever.

That night, Duncan learned how great cock can be and never looked back. That night, I learned that it wasn't Duncan I was after, it was his ass cherry.

One night of long, sweaty, passionate sex, and we were both changed men.

And so that is when it all began. After Duncan there was Garrett, after Garrett there was Benjamin, then Riley, then Charles, and so on. All straight boys who always enjoyed the ride once they finally gave into it. For five years I've been chasing straight boys, and they always enjoy it, even if they refuse to admit it. Several gave up women completely after our time together, while others were very openly bi.

I don't really know what it is about a straight man that affects me so much, but it really does. Maybe it's the thrill of the chase, the fact that I'm not rightly supposed to have it, I don't know. But straights drive me crazy.

Sometimes it takes a week, sometimes a month, but in the end, it's always only the one night of sex and I move on. Some boys get clingy, but most of them are so blissed out, they don't even care.

Duncan took the longest, but to this day he is still, and he always will be, my greatest conquest. Of my victories, Duncan is one of the few I keep in contact with. Despite living thousands of miles from each other, we remained friends.

I've been called sick and perverted and misogynistic, but I'm not a monster. I don't hurt my boys or force them. The sex, believe it or not, is always their idea. I plant the seed, so to speak, and then watch as it grows, and when it's ripe for the taking, I have it.

Of all the boys I have had, there are plenty that I gave up on as well. The scared boys are always the worst. I leave the boys who are afraid, and perfectly happy with vagina, alone. It's not worth my time to teach them that the snake doesn't bite; they are usually scared for a reason anyway. It's just safer for both of us to leave each other alone.

Then there are the angry ones. Mean, gay hating, hypocritical assholes are a complete waste of time. When I was young and stupid—and horny—I didn't care how mean they were. I was inexperienced, and if I wanted them, I was convinced that was all that mattered. I learned the hard way to be choosy and that a hot body is not worth an abysmal mind.

I don't try to embolden the fearful with sex and I don't try to tame the beasts with my magic stick. I learned to keep my boys kind and honest. That's not to say I don't enjoy a little spirit, but cruelty is not something I stand for. Kind Hearted, smart, and ruggedly handsome is my type. I love a boy that's rough around the edges, maybe even a little naive.

I'm at my usual spot, scouting out the crowd. The first step to turning a boy gay is to find the perfect boy, and then you mark him.

Choosing for me is always difficult. I'm picky as hell. I swear, the more time that passes the more curious the boys get. I stay out of gay bars in hopes of avoiding flaming Phillips and curious Georges. But the men-hungry ones seem to be drawn to me like I'm their magnetic field.

Rogue's Rock House on the edge of Seattle usually tends to my needs well. Some of the hottest men I'd ever seen frequented the dive bar and very few gay men filtered in.

I nod cordially to the bartender and lean back against the counter to scan the heavy crowd. There are a lot of women out tonight. I usually come to Rogue's because of the heavy male population, but tonight the boys are scarce.

I sigh, swigging on my beer as I try to scope out someone suitable.

"Hey sexy," says a deep smooth voice. I mentally roll my eyes and groan inwardly. Of course, despite the depleted number of cock to cunt ratio, there would be a gay guy here to hit on me.

"Not interested," I pipe back coolly.

A large hand grips my wrist lightly and places my palm against the front of his jeans, right over his cock. Okay, so it's big, and probably pretty good, but I've had bigger.

"Now are you interested?"

I roll my head towards the ass-muncher who can't take a hint and groan, snapping my hand away from his dick. "God, Johnathon, would you give it up already?"

Johnathon laughs because he realizes that I had no idea it was him as I hadn't been looking. "Sweetie, it's you who needs to give it up," he says back, sidling up beside me and trying to be covert as he makes a grab for my ass.

I sigh and sit down at an empty barstool because I know smacking Johnathon around is only going to make him feistier. He's a relentless oaf and his eyes have been locked on my balls since the first time we met, three years ago. He has it bad, but I kind of love him a little bit for it.

"Sweetie," I say back mockingly, "I'm hunting for virgin ass, so go away. You'll blow my—"

"I would blow you, if you let me," Johnathon interrupts, giving me a saucy wink.

"Seriously," I deadpan, not asking if he is serious, because I know he is, but warning him to cool down. He will blow my cover. He's huge and... flamboyant, really hard to miss.

I'm on a bit of a dry spell after my last boy got super clingy and started stalking me. I apparently didn't do very good research. Johnathon's offer for a free BJ is looking a bit too good at the moment.

I grow hopeful when fresh meat enters, and it sounds like college boys. They cause a raucous and I'm immediately craning my neck to see them because I am admittedly getting a bit desperate. I sit back down in my seat with a defeated humph when I realize they all seem to have a bad case of attitude. They are all ripped and filled with illusions of grandeur. I'm not interested at all, though they seem to have caught the attention of a group of blondes in the corner. At least someone is going to potentially get some.

"So, I have a proposition for you."

"I'm not interested, Johnathon," I say, a lot irritably.

"Just listen, I swear it doesn't involve my cock, though you are missing out, Jazzy. It's very, very nice. Much better than those little virgin twinks you drool all over."

"Johnathon, I don't have the time or patience," I warn.

He gives me a flirtatious smile and moves closer. "You know how I love it when you get angry," he purrs. Yes, he is so gay that he purrs.

"Fine, out with it," I groan, rubbing my temples.

"So, there's this guy..." he trails off and I shoot him a disbelieving look. He knows I don't do gay men, which can only mean… "A straight guy."

My ears perk up and I scoot closer to him. "I'm listening."

"He's amazing, Jazz, like mmm," he moans. His eyes dart to me and he adds seriously, "He's hotter than you, and you know how I feel about you."

He gives my thigh a squeeze while I'm a bit distracted, about two inches from my cock and I want to smack him, but I know he'll like that, so instead I just ignore him. His hand doesn't leave my thigh as he rambles off this story about some guy he went to high school with. I don't listen very closely until he starts describing him to me.

"His mouth was designed to suck cock, Jazz. His lips are incredible. And his jaw, oh honey, it is huge and amazing." Johnathon is leaning closer, and I can feel his breath, but I'm too intrigued by this guy he describes to really care. "His ass is firm and so tight, it's edible. He's straight and so not interested. You'll love him." He's rubbing my dick through my pants now and I get hard even though it's Johnathon, and he doesn't do that for me, at all. He's rubbing me and describing this sexy beast when who should suddenly enter my field of vision?

I cut Johnathon off with a "Got to go."

So, with a woody, I chug the rest of my beer and leave him there smirking to go get a closer look at the eye candy I've spotted. The closer I get, the more I realize that he's perfect.

His hair is wild and dark and all over the place and I want to grab it and fuck his perfect mouth. His lips are pouty and red, his teeth look white and straight as he chews his lip while staring at something. His thick, hard jaw is shadowed with scruff, and I know that he's as much the cause for my boner as Johnathon's skilled ball fondling was. I try to nonchalantly re-shift my erection into a more comfortable position as I make my way towards the hot piece of ass sitting by himself.

His eyes are green and vibrant, yet fierce in a disturbing way as they meet mine. I nod towards the empty seat at his table and ask him if I may sit. He nods once and looks away from me.

Neither of us speaks for about five minutes and I find myself growing restless. I really wish I had brought my drink with me instead of chugging it or got a new one so I could occupy myself with something while he just sits there.

The man doesn't pay me any mind as he rolls his neck from side to side, popping loose another button on his crisp white shirt. I think it looks like he may have been wearing a full suit at one point, but now he's only in the dress pants and the white button down. I imagine there was a tie at one point by the way his collar is laying, and I wish he would have left the tie on loosely so I can imagine guiding him to my cock with it a bit better.

He continues to ignore me as a waitress steps up to him and offers him a drink that I assume he must have ordered at one point. When she turns to leave, he lightly grasps her thigh to stop her and throws back his entire drink in one go. She gives him a bit of a dirty look for grabbing her but he just smirks and her face instantly turns into one of those stupid female 'I'm wetting myself for you' faces. I scoff at the woman, but get harder for the man, because he's obviously into the pussy and I am all for it. Plus, he's just the hottest man I've ever seen. Ever.

"Long day?" I inquire after the slutty waitress leaves.

He hums an affirmative and doesn't look at me at all. His body turns slightly so he can see the live band better, and I find I can see down his shirt a little bit as he leans onto the table. The wife beater he has on underneath is hugging his chest which looks strong and well-muscled, even though he looks kind of slight from afar. I'm willing to bet he's definitely not little—hopefully that pertains to all of him.

"Would you like a drink?" I ask.

He doesn't look at me to spit out a sharp, "That's what waitresses are for."

Christ, he's either in a bad mood or he's an asshole. I spit back, "No shit? I thought they were just here for you to grope."

He is obviously angry as he turns to glare at me. Amazingly, he looks even hotter when he's pissed. "Okay, listen here, Jazz, I'm not interested so go away."

I'm taken aback and I hesitate slightly. I want to ask him what he's talking about but instead I ask, "How do you know my..." I trail off realizing I don't let anyone call me 'Jazz,' but one person does anyway. "What did Johnathon say to you?" I growl.

"Enough," the guy answers simply.

I quickly scan the crowd and it's not hard to spot Johnathon. He's like an elephant amongst a herd of gazelles; they move gracefully while he tromps along. Johnathon is staring at us, grinning like the Cheshire cat. He looks way too proud of himself. I swear I'll kill him if he ruins this for me.

"I want to know what he told you," I say roughly, turning to look back at the ruined conquest whose name I don't know.

He sighs and rolls his eyes dramatically then pulls one long fingered hand through his wild hair, and I figure that's why it's standing on end so badly, it must be his habit. It's pretty hot. "He didn't tell me anything really. I know he's... g-gay," he stutters out, looking uncomfortable using it, like maybe it's the N-word and taboo. "He had a thing for me in high school and I saw him rubbing your dick, so I figured you must be the Jazz dude he said was 'super-hot'." He uses air-quotes and I almost laugh. "So, yeah, I'm not interested," he concludes.

"In what?" I ask honestly. I don't really have a clue what he's talking about, but I have deduced that Johnathon was totally setting me up by telling me about him then basically aiming me right for the dude. Bastard has some ulterior motive and I sure as hell am not going to sit here and take it.

"Whatever you and your boyfriend have planned. I don't do guys. Ever. At all."

"Johnathon is not my boyfriend, nor has he ever been, nor will he ever be," I say, really sharply and probably a bit loudly. I might be hoping that Johnathon can hear me. "I don't do gay guys. Ever. At all," I say, mocking him a little bit. I don't make it a point to say that I am actually gay though.

He finally seems to really look at me then. I kind of want to say he's checking me out, but he is probably just sizing me up, as competition or something. "Oh, sorry," he mumbles. I know he isn't really sorry. He shrugs one shoulder up then lets it drop. "Just assumed, since he was all up on your privateers."

"God knows he’s way too desperate for his own good. I need a drink. You want me to bring you one?" I ask.

"Sure, whatever you're getting, as long as it's not fruity or something."

I laugh, mostly because I think he actually is an asshole. He doesn't seem to hate gays and he doesn't seem afraid of the thought, but I really like that he's being cocky and a prick. It's hot.

With a look that I hope is threatening, I make my way back to Johnathon who just looks really excited. I want to kick in his teeth, which is absolutely nothing he should be getting a boner about.

"I'm going to kill you if you mess this up for me," I growl menacingly, or at least I think I sound menacing because I know I'm completely serious.

Johnathon just gives me his best bedroom eyes. "God, you look so hot right now."

I slam my fist down on the bar and he quivers, though I highly doubt it's out of fear. "You listen to me, Johnathon, I will never be with you, ever, so whatever bullshit scheme you have all planned out, forget about it. I won't be a part of it, I want nothing from you."

Johnathon looks smug and horny, the two feelings I had tried to eradicate. "Oh, Jasper, I do have something you want."

He continues to smirk and reaches into his pocket; I look away, assuming he's going to cup his balls or something. I call to the bartender and order two beers so I can get away from stupid Johnathon and back to the man I actually find attractive as soon as possible.

I hear something beeping and my attention is drawn back to Johnathon who is messing around with his phone. I ignore him, thankful his mind doesn't seem focused on me for once. I'd like to keep it that way. Suddenly his phone is being shoved in my face and I unconsciously go cross eyed from him holding the screen so close.

"Who does that look like to you, sexy?" he asks excitedly.

I try to blink to focus my eyes, but it doesn't work. I grab his wrist and shove his hand back so I can actually see what he's talking about. I gasp because his finger slips and not only do I see the really hot guy's face, but also what looks to be the head of his penis. Johnathon quickly pulls his phone back and stuffs it down the front of his pants. He's not completely stupid, it would seem; he apparently knows I won't be digging in there, even for a picture of the hottie and his seemingly really hot cock.

"What was that?" I ask.

"I think you got a better gist of what that was than I expected to give you."

"How do you have a picture of his cock?" I demand. Mostly I'm really jealous, but I'm also terrified that I'm going to lose this really hot piece of ass for being already gay curious, or worse, a full-fledged cock lover.

"So, you know how I started to tell you about going to high school with him?" Johnathon asks, leaning in towards me.

I take a step away, not interested in being within grabbing distance of him again. I nod, though I actually didn't listen at all to a word he'd said before.

"Well, he was dating this girl. I think her name was Christie, yeah, Christie. So, Christie was a conniving slut and she convinced him to take pictures of himself masturbating and send them to her. After she let it slip one night when she was wasted that she had nude pics of him on her phone, I stole the shit and sent them to myself. I have the whole set."

I groan, rather loudly. He has jerk off pictures of that hot piece of ass.

Johnathon nods. "I know, Jazz, I know. Those pictures alone have been more beneficial to me than any other spank-bank material ever."

"What do you want?" I ask him, because I'm really starting to get nervous now. Is he going to blackmail me or Hottie McHotpants?

"Honestly Jazz, nothing. I just wanted to mess with you a little. Here are your drinks," he says, handing me my two beers. "Go get ‘em, tiger."

I stare blankly at him as he shoves me away, drinks in hand. He's lying, he has to be.

I try to push it from my mind as I make my way back to the man's table. Shit, I don't know his name yet, I should have asked Johnathon.

Offering him his beer, I say, "Hey, so my name is Jasper. Never call me 'Jazz' or 'Jazzy' or anything else that relates to that horrid musical genre."

He nods. "Nice to meet you, Jasper. How did Johnathon take the news?"

"That he won't be fucking either of us?" I ask. Admittedly, I just said it to make sure he had the appropriate reaction. I'm not disappointed; he cringes and looks like he might gag. He nods again to answer my question. "He's a bit upset, but I'm sure he'll get over it."

"He's still staring over here," he says.

I look over my shoulder to see Johnathon staring. Yes, he definitely has a plan. "He's a bit obsessed with me," I admit. "It's really quite sad and pathetic. I don’t believe I’ve gotten your name yet." I sink the hook in hopes it’ll catch. It's a bad transition, but I'm curious and I don't usually beat around the bush.

"Ethan."

Ethan. Huh, kind of fitting. 'Ethan' sounds kind of manly, rugged. I could definitely see myself moaning the name Ethan at the top of my lungs until my throat was raw.

"Nice to meet you, Ethan," I say, offering him my hand over the table.

He's staring at me dubiously. He offers his own hand slowly and grips mine firmly, shaking once then pulling me closer to him over the table.

I get an instant erection from his bold move, though it's really stupid because I know it's entirely too soon for a straight boy to be making advances. It's still hot.

He doesn't kiss me, or lick my neck, or even touch my hair, but he steals my bottle of beer and gives me his own.

"I don't trust you, Jasper," he says.

I quirk an eyebrow and try to calm my breathing. "You shouldn't," I admit. I take a deep swallow out of the bottle he has traded me for and he does the same.

I am a bit transfixed by the way his Adam's apple bobs when he swallows. I continue to stare as his jaw unhinges and he speaks. I love the way his neck flexes; I can imagine myself licking, sucking, and biting the corded tendons as he arches his head back whilst we make love.

I attempted to make conversation with Ethan for an hour or more, but he really wasn't the most receptive. Well, he might have been a bit more talkative, but about every five minutes some entitled broad would come along and interrupt us. He didn't give a shit, obviously, because half of them were drunk off their asses and willingly grinding up on his business while he just sat there. I really gave a shit though; can't they see I'm working?

I started to just ignore them and talked while they ground, but they would get all needy and whine something about taking them home. Ethan made the same excuse every time.

"Sorry, I have to work in the morning."

I admittedly was a bit irritated when he used the same excuse on me. "Oh yeah, where do you work, hotshot?" I ask, quirking a brow.

"Promise not to fall all over me when I tell you?" he replies with a smirk. He's flirting, definitely flirting. If I say it enough, I may even believe it.

"No promises, I might not be able to control myself if you're rich," I say jokingly, mostly, maybe flirting back just a little.

"I probably shouldn't tell you then."

I start to laugh, but he looks completely serious. "So, who are you, like Patrick Dempsey's body double?"

He smirks and rubs his chest. "I am. How did you guess? This smoking body totally gave me away again, didn't it?"

I really want to jump onto the table and start licking his neck, as I tell him that yes, it definitely was the smoking body of his that gave him away. Christ, he is hot.

Ethan reaches into his back pocket, and I admire the way his body is arched. "Here," he says finally, handing me a card that he practically dug out of his ass. I am smart enough not to rub it against my face and caress it softly, in public.

I scan the card, then my mouth probably drops open in shock because I hear him chuckle. I recognize the name of one of Seattle's most prominent law firms and my first instinct is to not believe him.

"Bullshit," I say, shaking my head.

He smirks even more cocky than normal. "Call the cell number," he urges.

I pull out my cell phone and watch him carefully. He continues to smirk. I dial the cell number that is listed on the card. Again, he simply continues to sit there smirking. I press send and put the phone up to my ear. The call connects and rings into my ear. He pulls out a cell phone and answers, staring directly into my eyes.

"Ethan Bennett, attorney at law, how can I be of service to you?" I hear, both in person and through the phone.

I'm pretty sure that I came in my jeans, at least a little bit. He can be of service to me in so many ways.

It's definitely official. He is my new boy. I'm without a doubt getting into his pants as soon as possible.

I attempt to roll my tongue back into my mouth. I'm not sure that I'm capable of being nonchalant at the moment, but I try anyway. I shrug and say, "Nice. Are you even old enough to be an 'attorney at law'?"

He glares, though he doesn't necessarily look seriously angry. "I'm still in school, so no. But it's my father's firm and I intern there."

"Oh, so you're William's son, right?"

His brow crinkles as he stares at me disbelievingly. "You really haven't heard of me, have you?"

"No, not really," I say honestly. "I've seen William on the television commercials for the firm, but, no, I've never heard of you."

He shakes his head at me. "Dude, I'm hurt, deeply." He grabs his beer and chugs the remnants down. "Well, hey, I gotta head out, so if you promise not to look me up on the internet, I might tell you the real story sometime."

Is that a date offer, Mr. Bennett? "Well, hey now, hold on a second, I'm curious about something." He waits with a look of bored interest. "What did you come here for? You've been shooing the ladies away like flies and are leaving alone." I'm honestly curious.

"I didn't come here to get my rocks off, man. I'm here for the good music and the free alcohol." He smirks at me. "The free alcohol usually comes from the chicks that I don't take home. I'm not gonna lie, you may have been slightly more entertaining, though greatly less attractive."

I don't have to pretend to be offended. I am offended. "Asshole!"

He puts his hands up defensively. "Hey, I told you, I don't do dudes, so what did you expect?" He quirks an eyebrow questioningly. That definitely wasn't just a rhetorical question, unfortunately. Maybe his gaydar is picking up on my cock loving tendencies.

I play with my hair and jut my chest out. "It's just really rude to call someone who's obviously hot unattractive, you know?" I say. I get the desired reaction when he laughs and his question is deflected, he is really not ready to hear what I expect yet. "So, are you married then?" I ask. There isn't a ring in sight, but I ask anyway.

"No, I'm not married. Gotta go, Jasper. I'll see you around."

I watch his ass as he walks away and yell above the music, "You're paying next time, and you're telling me your 'real story'."

I can see his shoulders shaking with laughter as he flips me the bird without looking back, his head shakes from side to side and I find myself grinning in response.

I'm so going to bone him, and he doesn't even know it.

As soon as Ethan is gone, Johnathon invites himself to my table, plopping his ass in Ethan's chair with a sigh. I immediately stand to leave, but I have to walk past him and because he's enormous, he's stronger than me. He pulls me down into his lap. I start punching him in the ribs to make him let go.

"Guess you don't want to see those pictures then, huh?" he says hurriedly as he tries to block my blows.

I freeze. Yeah, he is going to hold those bad boys over my head until he gets what he wants. "What do you want?" I ask.

"How did it go, Jazz? Do you think he's going to succumb to your gay little ways?"

"Yes, actually I'm supposed to be following him now," I say. "He invited me into his ass den the minute I told him my dick is twelve-point-four-seven inches in diameter."

"Ethan drives an Aston," Johnathon says, like it's the most normal thing to say after I told him my cock was astronomically huge.

"Let me go, Johnathon. Right now, or I'll yell for security and get your ass thrown out of here," I threaten.

Johnathon sighs. "Fine, Jazz, be that way, but just so you know, if you start to play nice with me, I'll give you Ethan's pictures."

"I'm not playing anything with you, Johnathon. I'll see his dick for myself, and it'll be my hand wrapped around him jerking him off. The reality is much better than the imaginary, but you wouldn't know since you're too busy chasing things you can't have."

Johnathon laughs. "That's a bit hypocritical coming from you, don't you think, Jasper?"

I pat Johnathon on the cheek, and then break his hold on me to stand up. "No, I'll get what I want."

Johnathon smiles and says, "So will I."