Conversations with a Catfish

[VulnerablePenguin]

Chapter 1: MuscleStud69​

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

I’m not an angry person. I’m more of a crier – the type of guy who will crack a joke mid-breakdown to lighten the mood a bit. But when I arrived at MuscleStud69’s place and the person greeting me was definitely not the person in the photos, I was pissed.

We all know what the apps are like: unsolicited dick pics from older men, people who agree to meet up but conveniently disappear the day you made plans, and the classic “straight” man who insists on discrete hookups in sketchy places. I thought I’d seen everything. But an obvious catfish thinking I’d ignore my own eyesight when I met him was new to me.

MuscleStud69’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Excuse me?”

I pulled out my phone, showing him the profile. The person in the photos was stunning: six pack abs, sculpted pecs peppered with short dark hair, a v-line to die for, and a wicked, mischievous smile. “This you?”

There was a flicker of disappointment – guilt? – in his eyes before he answered, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course you don’t.” I hit the button to start a video call. It was immediately followed by a vibration in his pocket.

“Look, I’m sorry. They’re old photos – I used to look like that, I swear!”

I raised an eyebrow. The person in front of me might have looked like that in another lifetime. There was some facial resemblance. But now? He was an elderly man – at least in his fifties – with grey hair receded past his ears and a thin frame with no evidence of muscle tone, past or present. “Ahhh,” I drew out the sound, feigning my understanding. “So how old were you when your eyes turned blue? Forty? Fifty?”

His hazel eyes darkened. I probably should have bit my tongue. “Get off my property,” he spat.

I wasn’t done. “What did you think would happen when I got here? That I’d sleep with you because I was attracted to what you looked like years ago? Or maybe you thought since I drove all the way out here, I’d settle for something else? Did you think you could talk your way out of it?” The words exploded from my mouth like bullets.

His face twisted and reddened. “I thought maybe you wouldn’t be so fucking shallow. Now, get off my property or I’ll call the police!”

“Fuck. You. Go ahead and call them. You know impersonation is illegal, right?”

“What do you want then? If you don’t want to hookup, leave.”

“I just want to know why!” Tears welled up in my eyes – I did say I’m a crier. “I came here as I am. Maybe I leaned into the flirting more than I would have in person. But I would never do this to someone! So, why? What about me says that I would have just gone along with all of this? Do I seem that desperate?”

It was probably unreasonable to expect empathy from someone who had just lied about his identity. “Leave now, or I call the police. Please.”

“Whatever. Tell your wife I said hi.”

His eyes widened. “How did you – “

“Educated guess, asshole.” I turned around, ready to storm back to my car.

“Look, I’m sorry! I should have been honest.”

I don’t know why I stopped. I turned around, barely in control of my body. I was idly aware of the tears spilling down my cheeks. “Obviously! Has this ever worked? Even once?”

He sighed. “No. You’re the first person I’ve ever asked here.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s true! You can go through my chats if you want – “

“It’s probably a new account! Why would I believe a single word you say to me now?”

“Because I showed up to the door as I am. I like you. I just wanted to talk to you. I knew you wouldn’t respond if you saw what I looked like.”

“Because you’re like thirty years older than me! Of course I don’t want to talk to you! Do you realize you sound like a fucking pedophile right now? Holy shit!”

“You don’t know anything about me!”

“That’s the point! You lied about yourself to get my attention! You’re married!”

“Please just… just come in and have a tea. You drove all this way – can we just talk?”

“You just told me to leave your property.”

“Please… Just a conversation. You can sit in your car with the window mostly up if you’d feel safer. I just… I don’t have anyone to talk to about this all.”

I don’t know why I agreed to it. In my mind, I knew he was covering his bases – desperately trying to ensure that I wouldn’t out him to his wife. In my heart, I could feel the loneliness in his voice. This man had lived his life as someone he wasn’t. He was surrounded by reminders of what he would lose if he was honest about who he was. I sat in the driver seat of my car, rolled down the window just enough to hear him. He pulled a rusted patio chair from his deck and sat on the driveway, just a few feet from the window.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“I can’t – “

“You can, or I drive home and send the screenshots of our conversations to your wife. You said you came to the door as you are. You don’t get to back out now.”

He paused, trying to decide whether I was bluffing. I wasn’t. I didn’t do hookups with people at my place to avoid awkward conversations with roommates. Instead, I settled on leaving sticky notes on my desk with the address I was visiting and sending any digital evidence of my conversations to myself in case I disappeared. It didn’t really protect me, but I hoped it might help someone find me if I ever went missing.

“Dave.” He pulled a leather wallet from his worn-out jeans and showed me an ID to verify, thumb conveniently obscuring the last name. I realized the 69 on his username was his birth year. “What’s yours?”

“I don’t have to tell you that.”

“That doesn’t seem fair.”

“It really is, though. How long have you been married?”

“It’ll be 30 years this summer.” He sounded proud.

“Do you love her?” I was repulsed.

“Of course I do!”

“Does she know you like men?”

Silence.

“That’s what I thought. So, when did you know?”

“Know what?”

“What do you think? That you like dick.”

“You make it sound so… vulgar. I don’t know if I do.”

“That’s bullshit. Do you watch porn?”

“Everyone watches porn.”

“And when you watch porn, do you watch the man or the woman?”

Silence again. There was so much guilt and shame on his face.

I softened my tone, “Before I came out, I used to tell myself I was staring at the men in porn because I wanted to be like the models. The best lies are the ones we tell ourselves.”

“I do love my wife. We have a son. I knew I was… different… when I was a teenager. All my buddies would talk about going to the drive-in and hooking up with their girlfriends in the back of their cars. My wife – girlfriend then – and I just liked to watch the movie. I just thought it would take me a bit longer to get there.

“Sex was just uncomfortable, but I focused on her and learned what felt good. I love her so much – I really do. She’s my high school sweetheart. We raised a son together, for crying out loud. And I know she loves me more than anyone in the world. I’ve been her rock for thirty years. We laugh, drink, and dance together. I’ve cried in her arms, and she’s cried in mine. I don’t want to lose that.”

“Don’t you think she deserves to know the truth?”

“Of course she does. I just hoped it wouldn’t matter. We make each other happy. Love is more than sex. Do you know how many of our married friends sleep in separate bedrooms because they can’t stand each other? We sleep inside each other’s arms, even now.”

“If you love her so much, then why did you ask me to come here?”

“I just… I wanted to know what it’s all supposed to feel like.”

“And you thought catfishing me would make that happen?”

“The best lies are the ones we tell ourselves, right? I told myself I wanted this to happen – I think maybe I was giving myself an out. I don’t want to destroy this beautiful life I’ve built for myself. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you to come here.”

“So why didn’t you message someone closer to your age? Don’t you think they’d be more understanding?”

“Maybe they would. A lot of gay men my age died during the AIDS epidemic. The ones who didn’t were either lucky or learned to ignore their feelings better than I did. You’re young – the world’s not what it used to be. I’m not saying you have it easy, but you can’t know what that fear was like without living through it. My generation’s view on sex comes from misinformation and fear. Most people my age haven’t dealt with it.”

“That… honestly explains a lot.” I met his eyes and saw that his were glistening now. “Look, I still think your wife deserves to know how you feel. I believe you that you love her. If I was someone else, your marriage would be over.”

“You won’t tell her?”

“There’s nothing to tell. I showed up at the wrong house and you asked me to leave.” I twisted the key in my car’s ignition. “And you’re still an asshole, by the way.”

He grinned and I saw a glimmer of the person in the photos. I drove home, leaving my anger behind in his driveway.

 

[VulnerablePenguin]

Note: I know the first chapter didn't have any steamy scenes, but I hope this one makes up for it!

Chapter 2: The Locker Room

I thought a lot about Dave on the drive home. I wondered what it must have been like to feel like the closet was safer than being out. Before I came out, I felt like I was living a lie. Coming out meant coming into myself. At first, it was terrifying. It was like admitting that I’d been wearing a costume my whole life but not sure what I would look like when I took it off. I asked my mom to bring me to the mall and we tried on different clothes for hours. She was so patient. I tried everything: crop tops, blouses, tank tops, legging, hats, shoes, jewelry, skirts, cargo pants, hats. I tried every shape, size, and colour I could find. I didn’t care whether it came from the men or women’s side of the stores or even whether it fit my body. I wanted to figure out what felt the most like me.

We only bought two things. First, I got my ears pierced by a pre-teen (I blame her for the infection that followed). Second, I bought a black baseball cap with a pride flag embroidered on the front. It was simple, felt like me, but made a statement about who I was. I’m grateful to my mom every single day for the hours we spent in that mall. She gave me a safe space to explore, had great advice for what looked good on me, and never once made me feel judged. That’s how things should be, right?

I decided I needed to calm my mind and drove to the gym. It was a 24-hour location and had become my comfort space over the years. I wasn’t a bodybuilder or anything – I went a few times a week for the mental clarity. As an anxious person, exercise was a grounding tool for me. It gave a me place to focus my nervous energy. The muscle tone that resulted from it was a bonus.

The gym was quiet. A pair of familiar strangers ran on the treadmills across from me while I began my stretches, earbuds in, taking deep breaths as the ritualistic movements calmed my nerves. As my muscles relaxed, Dave slipped from my mind, replaced with the music I loved. I focused on my immediate surroundings and everyone else disappeared from my conscious awareness. The workout was a blur. Cardio, some bicep curls, chest presses, and planks. By the end of it, I was too exhausted to worry about the day’s earlier events.

The best part of any workout is the shower at the end. I walked into the locker room, trying to ignore the pungent smell of body odours and cheap cologne. Another man – I hadn’t noticed him before – was changing with his back to me as I passed. I tried not to be a creep, but it was hard not to notice the sculpted musculature of his hairy back. He seemed young – maybe in his early twenties. I walked past him, opened my locker, and stripped down for my shower.

I’m not shy in the locker room. I pulled down my underwear, enjoying the fresh air on my soft, uncut cock and hanging balls. I had an average dick – maybe six inches hard, three inches soft. But my balls more than made up for it in size. I loved when people played with them: squeeze them, suck on them, slap them. I’d say thank you every time and beg for more.

I walked to the shower, turned the handle, and waited for the water to warm up. As the steam started to form, I let the water run down my face, washing the sweat from my hair with an relieved sigh. The warmth was intoxicating on my throbbing shoulders and upper back.

I didn’t hear the footsteps. When I opened my eyes, the other man in the locker room was standing directly across from me, facing away. I grinned, taking a second to check him out. He was naked, water dripping down his round, muscular ass. His back hair was thickest along his shoulders, almost black. He was exactly my type. I started to feel a warmth in my groin and knew I was starting to get hard. Fuck. I turned around, trying to think of anything else to calm me down.

“Saw you working out earlier. You look like you know what you’re doing. How come I haven’t seen you around?” His voice was low and gruff. It sent chills through my body. My dick was throbbing now. If I turned around, the best-case scenario would be that this beautiful man would never talk to me again. At worst, I would be assaulted.

“Thanks.” I squeaked. “I… usually come earlier in the day.”

“Makes sense. You okay? You seem a little tense.”

“Mhm?” I tried to say calmly. I’m not sure what came out of my mouth, but it sounded more like a question.

I heard footsteps. Was he walking up to me? Nerves shot through my body – I was definitely about to get beat up. Fuck. I started to shake.

“I think you should turn around,” he whispered into my ear.

This couldn’t be real. Did this kind of thing really happen? I’d read about cruising, but didn’t think people actually approached each other like this. Was it a trap to lure me in? Would he complain to the staff and get me kicked out of my gym? I gulped and turned around, unsure of what else I could do.

I faced him, completely erect, precum dripping from the tip. I hadn’t cum in a few days on purpose, thinking I was going to hookup with Dave. I stared down, afraid to make eye contact with him.

He was erect. He was circumcised, seven inches, and girthier than me. My jaw dropped. I traced my gaze upwards, taking in his body. It was wet, beautifully sculpted with muscle, chest hair almost black and clinging to his skin. I met his blue eyes.

MuscleStud69 was unmistakeably smiling back at me.

Not Dave. This was the man Dave was pretending to be. I’d practically studied his face, fantasizing about this exact scenario. He had no idea I’d seen him naked already, that I’d already planned to meet him.

“Do you like what you see?” he asked, pride in his voice. Was he flexing his pecs?

I was not capable of forming words anymore. I nodded, in pure, erotic awe.

“Get on your knees and take a closer look then.”

I did as he said, powerless to say no, and lowered myself. His cock was thick, smooth, and veiny. His pubic hair was dark and neatly trimmed to perfection. His balls dangled loosely – I suspected from the volume that he had a full load ready as well. I wrapped my hands around his base, applying firm pressure. He growled, and I could have cum just from the sound he made. I began to massage his cock, thumb pressing along the lower side, milking the precum from him. A drip welled at the tip. I rubbed it between my fingers, using it as lube.

“Good boy,” he groaned, and my brain melted. I wrapped my lips around him, unable to stop myself. His thick cock filled my mouth, but I pressed him to the back of my throat, desperate to take it all in. I grabbed his firm ass and pulled him closer. “That’s right. Suck Daddy’s cock like a good little slut.”

I learned that night that I really like dirty talk. The more he told me I wanted it, the more I needed him inside me. I sucked him slowly, rolling my tongue along the ridge around the base of his head, intoxicated by his moans. I squeezed his balls. At first, I was gentle, but any time he moaned, I tightened my grip to raise the volume. I massaged his perineum, never pulling my mouth from his throbbing erection. My jaw ached. I didn’t care. I kept sucking, fingers moving to his hole, teasing the rim.

“Good boy!” He groaned in exasperation. “That’s right, you’re gonna make Daddy cum. You want Daddy to cum in your throat, don’t you?”

Instead of answering, I pushed his cock all the way inside my throat until my lips his groin. I kept it inside me continuing to massage his hole.

“Fuuccckk,” he moaned. “I’m cumming!” I felt twitches and then a warm spray as his cock spasmed and shot rope after rope of cum at the back of my throat. He kept it in my mouth for a few seconds before pulling out, still aching hard, silvery white fluid still dripping from him. I swallowed what remained in my throat. It tasted sweet.

He grinned a wicked smile that I’d seen before. It was even better in person.

“Turn around, Baby. Your turn now.”

Hot water from the shower ran down my chest. He pulled his massive torso close to me, pressing up to my back. His hands wrapped around me, slowly tracing their way to my cock. They were surprisingly smooth. I whimpered when he squeezed my balls. He whispered, “You like that, Baby?”

“Mhm,” I moaned.

“You want me to milk the cum out of you?”

“Yes.” I gasped.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Sir!”

His laugh was devilish. “You know what I want you to call me.”

I did. I’d never called someone Daddy before, but when he said it, it drove me fucking wild. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Good. Boy.” His remaining hand wrapped around my cock easily enveloping the entire length and he began to stroke. He applied pressure on my balls and coated my dick what seemed to be a never-ending fountain of precum pouring from me. Whenever I groaned, he growled in response, stroking a little faster.

“Daddy. I’m gonna – fuck!”

I practically screamed, not caring if there was anyone else in the locker room. Cum sprayed from my cock, plastering the shower wall like an abstract painting. All of my senses were flooded – I couldn’t see, hear, or think. All that filled my mind was the intense pleasure followed by the release.

“Mmmm,” he growled. “Look at that load. You must have needed that!”

He finally released my cock and pulled away. He walked back to his shower, and we finished cleaning ourselves in comfortable silence. When I changed back into my clothes, I could barely fathom what just happened. Was my mind playing tricks on me? No. I knew that face.

I packed up my bag. I stopped near him before I left the locker room. He looked up at me and nodded. “Hope to see you again some time. I come here almost every night around ten.”

I nodded. When the locker room doors closed behind me, I practically sprinted to my car.