Straight Man นิยาย & เรื่องราว

"The thing is..." "I have no idea what you are saying." The fat man shook his head back and forth and exhaled slowly. "Neither do I." Sloan chuckled at his fucked-up head and then set the fourth smoothie on the counter. He stared into green eyes. "How about if I say that I want a man with smoking six-pack abs, long hair, and a smile that makes me want to suck him off? How's that?" "You would be…" the stranger paused. "What is the words… into that person?"

THE MAN IN YELLOW

He holds a similar energy just like his father's but I refuse to be intimidated by him. "I don't want to have anything to do with you, clearly you're nothing like the girls I like. You're simply not my type". he smirks as his grey eyes scan me, more like checking me out. Oh I definitely know how to deal with cocky jerks like you! "The feeling is mutual Mr..." I try to remember his name "Nathan" he completes "Nathan" I repeat. You can't be my type, you're too old for me, what are you like, 30?"

"All these okada men will just be doing anyhow. When you need them, they will be shunning you. When you don't need them, they'll be calling you like as if no o, they will carry you for free." I chuckled and sh sent me a glare which nade me laugh. "God, you're facial expressions are so comical." I said, between laughs. She tried glaring at me again but broke into a shy smile. "Lemme joor." I chuckled and waved down an oncoming bike. The bike man stopped, he was a thin dark man with a bushy black beard and equalky bushy hair. He wore a thick cheap black parka despite the heat, a pair of brown trousers and a pair of green flipflops.

Jace looked at me, eyes steady. “Don’t worry. What I lost ten years ago, I’ll win back today.” Since he had made up his mind, I stopped trying to persuade him. Ignoring the strange, pained look Leon was giving me, I stepped aside and gave them the stage. They chose to compete with identical techniques at the same time. Each stood on a separate platform, judged by officials on both sides. In the end, the audience, experienced enough to judge, would vote for the winner. From the start, Leon’s movements were sharp and aggressive.

one of the men gets straight to the accussations. The wolves surrounding Jericho cuss and take a few steps back. They obviously know something I don’t. “I’m not a child,” I insist, and look around at the angry men. “Sorry baby gal,” one of the men says. “I don’t believe yah.” He looks like he’s maybe thirty and lives in a gym. He’s tall for a human, but still a head and shoulders shorter than Jericho. “You look like a little girl to me.”

Hunter responded. After taking a swig from his glass, the man asked, “So why are you turning down such beautiful ladies?” “In case you're gay, I'm straight.” Hunter raised his hands at the man. “Don't come at me with no gay stuff.” The man threw his head back and roared with laughter. He looked like he was in his mid-forties. He didn't look feminine at all, quite the opposite. He looked like a macho man. With his low-cut hair, and cleanly cut moustache that met his bearded chin. He was wearing a white t-shirt that hugged his biceps and a gold watch around his right wrist. Hunter noticed a silver ring on his ring finger.

On my first day at the villa, the production team hands me a mission card. I read it. "Welcome to 'Where's the Straight Guy?', a reality show where 12 male contestants will be living together for one month. Only one of them is straight, while the others are gay. Every week, two people will be voted out. If the hidden straight guy makes it to the end, he'll win ten million dollars." I'm at a loss for words for a few seconds after I finish reading. Then, I look up at the director. "Your team does know what the words 'male contestant' mean, right?" The director looks me over—my short hair, black hoodie, chest hidden under a sports bra, and my five-foot-nine height—then checks the applicatio

Sol Ming looked up to the sky, and then heard an angry roar of a man. “What do you think you’re doing to my partner?” Up the high-slope of the ground, there stands a tanned, colored man. He is bare-naked at the top with the similar animal hides down on his dog waist, eight-pack abdominal muscles look so majestic, and the long vertical scar made by a beast was shown all over him. The facial features of the man are seven-points, near perfection if only it weren’t for the beard on his face that wasn’t shaved hiding the lips of this person.

A scruffy beard covered his chin, but there was something kind of pleasant about his dark eyes. “You’re too young for me, darlin.’ I prefer my women a good twenty years older.” He grunted. “No, I’m asking for your help!” I clarified, smiling sweetly when he leaned down to listen. I went on my tiptoes, shouting over the music. “Do you think you could push these people out of the way for me? I’m not strong enough, and I need to hit Donny with the pain stick before he kills Ray.” The gruff man blinked a few times, scratched his beard, and then shrugged. He slid his meaty arms in between a group of people, forcing them apart with a surprising amount of human strength.