Straight Porn Maes Me Gay

His Grindr screen name was perfect. Cruise. It was cool and said everything I needed to know about what he wanted. Even better, he was close. Very close-- 800 feet, according to the app.

I opened the conversation by sending "hi" and then began dividing my attention between four tasks: watching Twistys striptease videos on my phone, chatting with Cruise, pinching my nipples and answering work emails. My office door was locked, and the building was almost empty anyway, the boss long gone for the day.

Over the next hour, I learned Cruise was 24, almost exactly half my age, but that we had quite a bit in common. We both had significant others-- he a fiancee and I a wife-- who we fucked regularly. We had identical reasons for seeking guys on Grindr-- we were hopeless porn addicts who were physically attracted to women yet felt compelled to hook up with guys while edging to straight porn. For us both, sex with men was a way of honoring the porn, as if in worship.

"I suck cock for porno whores," Cruise told me. "I need to do it."

That was exactly how I felt and told him so. Our conversation was so open and free it was almost as if I were talking with a voice in my own head. I discovered we both felt extreme shame after cumming with a guy. But we both understood that knowing the shame was coming fueled the lust buzz.

"It's hard to describe," I wrote, "but sometimes I can transform post-nut shame into energy for the next hookup almost immediately-- like within 10 minutes of cumming. And then I find another hookup and sometimes even another after that, just surfing shame from cock to cock. But when the crash comes, it comes HARD."

"EXACTLY!," Cruise replied. "I do the same thing."

It turned out he worked in a basement office in the building next to mine. Hardly anyone but him used the men's room down the hall from him, he told me.

"Want to meet in there for a jack session?" he asked.

"Yeah," I replied, "but I don't usually hook up in public."

"I've got an idea," Cruise wrote. "There are two toilet stalls-- you go in one, and I'll go in one. We can jack off side by side."

I thought about it a second while watching Kirsten Price strip a tight, purple dress off of her voluptuous body. I could do it for her. Then it occurred to me that jacking off in my own private toilet stall probably wasn't even illegal.

"Fuck yeah," I wrote. "Let's do it."

Five minutes later I was going down the steps in the building where Cruise works. The set up was even better than the way he had described it. The hallway in the basement was quiet, all the doors shut and the lights out in the offices. The bathroom was at the end of a hallway. The room was in a U shape. You entered at the top of one side of the U and walked past the sinks and two urinals, hung a right and then another right to find the two toilet stalls. Cruise was in one, and I took the other, latching the door behind me. I pulled down my pants and boxers, started watching another Kirsten Price striptease and stroked my cock. I could just barely hear a swishing sound in the stall next to mine. All I could see under the wall was a pair of jeans and blue boxers scrunched down around a white Nike with a black swoosh.

After a minute, I switched over to Grindr and typed, "This is so hot!"

"Fuck yes!" Cruise replied. "Show me what you are watching."

I slipped my phone under the stall wall so that Cruise could see Kirsten peel off the top of her lacy, black dress. When I pulled back, a screen appeared under my side of the wall. A blonde slut was getting fucked up the ass. I had to pull my hand off my cock to keep from cumming.

"I want sex with you so bad," I wrote.

"I want you to cum in me," Cruise replied. "I need dirty sex!"

"Should we do it?" I asked. "Want to come over to my stall? I'll shoot fast."

It took Cruise about a minute to reply. I could tell he was thinking about it.

"Next time," he wrote.

A few seconds later, I heard a muffled grunt and the sound of cum splatting on the tile floor. Cruise immediately pulled up his pants and hustled out of there, the stall door banging behind him. I shot my load just as the bathroom door squeaked open.

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Cruise fits the profile of a type of guy I have been seeing more on Grindr. They are straight, and the only time they want to hook up with dudes is when they are hyper-stimulated on straight or transsexual porn. The porn creates a lust high and hooking up with a guy ratchets it up another notch.

None of this, I realize, is new. It's been my motivation for years. But up until about a year ago most of the guys I met, even the married ones, were truly bi-- attracted to both women and men. Now I am seeing more guys who are not attracted to guys at all but act out on wild carnal desires with men only because they are uncontrollably horny and it's so easy to meet one on Grindr.

Some guys get into sucking cock or getting sucked off and a few get into anal, but most like to stick to jacking off. A lot of these guys are in their 20s and have been hooked on porn for several years already and see no hope for quitting. They have decided to sink deeper into addiction than try to have a real relationship with a woman. I totally get it and am happy to oblige.

Gay guys will never understand this. They seem to think everyone is at least a little gay, and the porn makes it come out. For porn addicts of my variety, it's just not true. The only time I want to do gay things is when I am out-of-my-gourd with smut lust. Straight porn makes me gay.

The fallout stays with me after I cum. I feel ashamed. I feel dirty. I don't want to look women in the eye, as if they know what kind of a whore I really am. But when I quit for a while, my brain goes back to normal. All it takes is a day or two, and I am naturally attracted to women in real life again. I start to flirt a little without even thinking about it. I have found I build momentum in one direction or another depending on my choices. When I stay away from the porn for a couple days, I start to forget about it. But if I indulge, I want more.

If I had to guess why so many more guys are into porn-fueled hookups, I'd say porn addiction is on the rise. There is just an endless supply with bottomless variety. You can watch anytime, anywhere, including on a laptop, iPad and phone. The work-from-home movement makes it easier than ever to jack off, even during work hours. One guy I know watches porn on his phone during Teams meetings. I once sucked him off while he listened to his co-workers drone on about reducing travel expenses.

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Cruise and I started meeting once or twice a week, always in the same bathroom down the hall from his office. Each time we edged for about 5-10 minutes while chatting on Grindr and occasionally giving each other peaks under the stall of what we were watching on our phones. Sometimes he came first, sometimes I did. This went on for six weeks, and not once did we see any part of each other above the mid calf. I didn't even know what his voice sounded like.

It all started to escalate on a rainy Tuesday late afternoon when the building seemed particularly empty. I was stroking hard to an old video of Lacey Foxx stripping off a red dress when I saw a hand emerge under the stall wall with a pair of lacy, pink panties dangling between thumb and forefinger. I grabbed them and smelled the crotch. They were musty. The gold print on the tag said they were mediums from Victoria's Secret.

"You like?" Cruise wrote on Grindr.

"OMG!!!," I replied. "I'm licking them now."

That's exactly what I did, dragging my tongue along the white streak in the crotch. I could still taste the salty pussy juice, or maybe it was just my imagination. What did it matter? It was hot either way.

"My wife's," Cruise replied.

"I love that you are violating her," I wrote. "I'm going to wipe some pre-cum on the crotch."

"Yes!!!!" he replied.

I dabbed the soft fabric on the head of my cock. The pre-cum made a small spot right about at the spot that I imagined would cradle her clit.

"Want to put them on and suck my dick?" Cruise asked.

My stomach dropped and my heart fluttered. It was one of the hottest indecent proposals I'd had in a while. I started assessing the risk. In the 10 or 11 times we had jacked together, a guy had swung in to take a piss and wash his hands only once. It was no problem-- we just went silent for a minute until he left. As horny as we both were, I guessed a blow job would last a minute or less. The chances of getting away with it were high. The urinals were on the other side of the wall from the toilet stalls, and most dudes never went into the section with the toilets. Theoretically, even if a guy were coming to take a shit, we would have about three seconds to straighten up from the time the bathroom door opened to him making the corner. Still, there was a non-zero chance of getting caught.

"Fuck yes!" I wrote. "But in here feels kinda risky."

"I know," he wrote. "Let's go to my office. It has a lockable door. No one from my department is here. Zero chance of visitors."

My thumbs were trembling as I typed.

"Let's do it," I wrote.

"After you put on the panties, go right when you leave the bathroom. Go right down the first side hallway. Go to the last office on the right. 093. See you there. I'll see you there."

He stood, and I heard him pull up his pants and slide open the lock before the stall door opened. Even before he rounded the corner, I started slipping out of my shoes, boxers and pants. This is always my favorite part of a hookup-- the moment right before you know you are going to escalate to a dirtier, riskier behavior. There weren't going to be any more questions or reasons for not meeting. You had a plan and were putting it in motion. Both guys wanted it badly enough.

I pulled up the panties and adjusted my flesh into them. My cock and balls barely fit inside the lacy, pink triangle up front. I arranged my cock so the soft, sensitive underside rubbed against the lace as I walked. Satisfied with the way Cruise's wife's panties contained my junk, I pulled up my boxers and pants and headed for the bathroom door.

My heart thudded in my chest as I walked down the hall. The panties were starting to creep up my ass. It occurred to me that I was in a public place while wearing women's underwear-- that turned me on. The walk to the office probably lasted only 15 seconds, but it felt like a lust-rush eternity. Just knowing I was about to suck a cock and swallow cum made my shaft feel like a boiler about to explode.

A shaft of light glowed in the gap between the door and the dark blue wall. I let myself in and closed the door behind me. It was a small office, barely large enough to contain a desk, a comfy-looking black leather chair on one side of the desk and two simple but padded chairs on the other. There was not a window in the place. Perfect. We were totally boxed in.

Cruise was a slightly chunky guy, clean shaven and professional looking in his gray golf shirt and loose fitting blue jeans. Without acknowledging my presence, he brought up a facial compilation video on a laptop screen. He hit play and reduced the volume to zero, then went over to the door to lock it. He took a seat in one of the chairs and positioned the laptop on the desk so it was equidistant between the two chairs. Cruise unbuttoned his pants, whipped out his cock and started jerking, all as if I weren't even in the room.

To some, Cruise's refusal to even look at me may seem rude, but I wasn't offended in the slightest. A lot of straight guys who hook up in secret stay intensely focused on the porn to ensure they maintain their lust high. They look away only when absolutely necessary for practical reasons such as stripping off a shirt.

My head was bursting with lust. I was more than ready to do dirty things, so I stripped naked, except for the panties. It wasn't a sexy striptease. I just got my clothes off as quickly as possible. But once I stood there wearing only Cruise's wife's panties, my inner porno slut kicked in.

I knelt between his spread legs. Pre-cum glistened at the tip of Cruise's slightly curved, 6-inch dick. I could tell he was trying hard not to blow his load. He stroked his cock a couple times, paused and then repeated. I looked up at him. His eyes were fixed in a trance on the porn. They darted to me, then quickly back to the video.

When I leaned forward, Cruise's hands fell away from his cock and he slouched a little more in his chair. I wrapped my lips around the head and tasted the salty pre-cum. My body automatically went into cock-sucking mode: loosen the throat muscles and make sure only the tongue, cheeks and lips touch the soft, sweet flesh of the love muscle. All it took was three strokes for Cruise to start gushing. I sealed my throat and collected all his jizz in my mouth. After he squeezed out the last drop, I flung back my head and opened my mouth to show him what he had done. Then I swallowed.

I knew the shame was setting in for Cruise, so I quickly stood up, stripped off the panties and wrapped them around my dick. All it took for me was two strokes for me to blow my hot, gooey load into that pink fabric.

Shame began to replace lust as the dominant force in my bloodstream. I dropped the cum-filled panties on the corner of the desk and dressed without haste, while Cruise buttoned up his pants and closed the laptop. I let myself out and hustled down the hallway, up the steps and out the door. I kept thinking, "I did it again." A co-worker of mine in the parking lot gave me a quick wave just before ducking into his Mercedes. Imagine if he knew what I'd just done. I tried to shake it off.

When I got back to the office, I checked my email. Nothing important had come in. Fuck it, I thought. I opened Grindr. Maybe I'll edge some more and see if I can find another hookup.