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You Speak Like A Girl

New Delhi is a dry and rude city.

The air is full of dust and so, my hair was dry, dirty, and dusty.

It was an early night, and I went to his room to borrow hair oil. His room in the hotel was adjacent to my room and mine was adjacent to his. You could say that it was the same room just divided by a common door. But the door was kept locked.

There were 3 men staying in another room. But I was staying alone in my room. So, one of the men came to me and asked if I could let him share my room. I readily agreed but requested him to get a separate bed because my room had just a single bed.

The man didn't come to the room. I thought he was offended and so, I felt guilty of being rude and asked him to feel comfortable and use my toilet if they need. I asked them so, because there were three men living in a small room with a single bathroom available to them to share in the morning.

I thought I could ease them by letting them share my washroom in the morning so that they can get ready for the meeting on time.

Wrong I was.

The next night, I again asked one of the men if I could borrow hair oil. He gave me hair oil and I came to my room.

His room was adjacent to my room and mine was adjacent to his. One can very clearly hear what they were talking.

I overheard that they were mimicking my voice and making sexual jokes on how I spoke with the man to come to my room to share the washroom.

People often say I have feminine characters. Maybe I speak like a girl. That's what they say. I speak mildly, quietly, and that many call soft. So, soft is feminine, they believe.

The three men in the room joked about how they would fuck me, and I would scream like a girl. The men talked how their thick and long Penises would drill my ass and I will moan like a slut.

I overheard everything. I couldn't use the hair oil. I didn't know how to return the oil to the man. Because I didn't know how to face them.

I was agitated and I'm agitated. But I'm always agitated.

It's not for the first time I am agitated because men, close me or distant to me, have often told me tales of their ‘fascinations’. Some even tried.

Agitation is my normal and I am a boy.


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