Date: Fri, 3 Jan 2014 13:15:17 +0000
From: David Graham <davgra84@gmail.com>
Subject: Memoirs of an Invisible Gay

If you're under age and reading about sex between men isn't your thing
please head elsewhere.

This is the first instalment of what will hopefully be a long-running
series.  Encouragement is welcomed Ð you can email me at
davgra84@gmail.com with support, criticism, chat-up lines or whatever you
fancy.

Enjoy!


Memoirs of an Invisible Gay

- - - The Beginning - - -

So yeah, I am (or rather, can be) invisible.

I don't know when I developed this ability. I just know the first time it
happened. I woke up lying on my bed, my sheets down around my ankles, my
stiff cock throbbing and leaking precum. My bedroom door swung open and my
brother burst into the room. He looked `at' me, looked around the room, and
then walked out. "He's not in his room!" he shouted, and I heard him
running down the stairs.

I jumped out of bed, ran to the door and shut it gently. I picked up some
boxers from the floor and stepped in to them. As I pulled them up, I looked
up at the mirror on the wall.

My boxers were floating at knee height. And I wasn't there.

- - - The Rules - - -

There are two key rules. I didn't make them up, some creepy old guy didn't
tell me them, I didn't have an illuminating dream. I just worked them out
over time.

So firstly, I can control it, mostly. If I want to become invisible, it
just happens. When I want to become visible, it happens. Just like that.
It's like choosing to move an arm. But Ð big but Ð there's like a
built in, subconscious safety mechanism. So if I'm in a room full of people
who would see it happen, it doesn't work. Or if I'm invisible, and try to
become visible where someone can see me, it doesn't work. Trust me, I've
tried.

Secondly, only I become invisible. Not my clothes. So if I want to get
invisible, basically I have to get naked first. And that means when I
become visible again, I need access to clothes. And I can't carry them
around with me in a bag, because there would be a floating bag. See, this
isn't quite comic book stuff.

Oh, and when I say it's just me, I mean my body. Anything that comes out of
me isn't invisible. What does that mean?

- - - The Taste Test - - -

I stayed at my best friend's flat one night when I was 25 or so, sleeping
in the spare room. I woke up hungover and horny, and stroked my cock for a
bit before deciding to take a wander around. I got completely naked and
turned invisible, then slowly headed out of the room. I could hear my
friend stirring; he was bumping around in his room. I headed into the
bathroom and stood in an empty corner, gently playing with my cock and
balls. About five minutes later, my friend came into the bathroom and
locked the door. He took a piss, his long, limp cock shooting warm yellow
into the toilet. He finished with a few shakes and tugs at his cock, which
started to fill out ever so slightly, and then pushed his pants down to his
feet and stepped out of them.

He walked to the shower cubicle, stepped in, and shut the door behind
him. He turned on the water and stood under the shower head, the water
instantly soaking his dirty brown hair and waterfalling down over his
body. He shampooed his hair, rinsed, and then soaped his body. When he was
rinsed off, he squeezed some moisturizer onto his hand and started to
stroke his cock, which quickly hardened.

I stood on the opposite side of the cubicle door facing him, my hard cock
in my hand. I matched him stroke for stroke, looking into his eyes as we
jerked off. His body tensed, he reached his free hand up and grabbed hold
of the top of the cubicle door. His hips thrust forward and he let out a
grunt as he came, his jizz flying up and onto the cubicle door, rope after
rope of thick cum. As he came, I matched him Ð more than matched him Ð
as I shot one of my typically big loads onto my side of the glass.

He stepped back under the water to clean off again, and I gently moved back
to the corner of the room. He turned the shower off and stepped out, drying
himself off with a warm towel. As he turned to leave the room, he caught
sight of the cum slowly running down the door. He opened the cubicle door
to wipe the inside, but found that his cum had washed away. Closing the
door again, he scooped up a bit of my cum on a finger and lifted it to his
nose. He sniffed it, puzzled, and then licked it up. The look on his face
was clear Ð he knew the taste of his own cum, and that wasn't it.

- - - The Catch - - -

Well, as far as I can tell (so far) there isn't one. I use my gift the way
I think most horny young men would. Fun & games people, fun and games. I've
known about my `special power' since that morning when I was 16. As I write
this, I'm 29. I'm not bored of it yet. But I've found that what really
turns me on is sharing my experiences. So that's what I'm going to
do. Consider this an introduction to me and my life. The best is yet to
come.

- - - The Coda - - -

I showed this to a skype friend, and he was like "you need to tell them
more about you", so here's a bit more about me I guess: I'm just under 6ft
tall, dark brown hair, green eyes, the makings of a six pack if I could
ever be more committed to the gym, a fuzzy belly, a 7 inch uncut cock, and
um, I think that's all you need to know ha. Check back for more stories. It
makes me so horny to tell you what I've done with my `talent'. Catch you
again soon.