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RDJ smut

Yet another RDJ smut blog because, let's face it, this man is so hot, there can actually never be enough of these.

Dear Robert, in case you ever stumble across this blog: we sincerely apologize.

So, we ask—and in real life, there have always been rumors: Has he had any of his own homosexual experiences? His answer pours out naturally, with a dry, sardonic tone, the same way he replies to questions with “yes, sir,” and “no, sir,” in a mock-formal tone.

Beginning by saying that “I think that everybody is bisexual,” he adds, more personally, “I’ve acted upon gay situations less than practically every other man I know. As much as I consider myself a sexual person—and not without a fairly rich fantasy life—I’m not very sexually motivated. I’m not sexually addicted or compulsive,” he says.

He breaks down the sexuality of his friends as such: “I’d say 25 percent of the men I know have a serious addiction to sex. The other 25 percent are bisexual, but are in complete and utter vowed silence about it—which is really weird. The other 25 percent are gay. And the other 25 percent are vehemently heterosexual with leather queen undertones.”

And to answer the original question? Downey wants to do it chronologically. “One of my cousins sucked my dick when I was nine. It was for about four seconds, and I said I would do it back to him, but I reneged. When I was like 15. I had something go on with a trannie. It was in New York City at a Rocky Horror show. There were all these other Addams Family characters of dubious gender around us. Her name was International Crisis, and I really was sure that she was a white girl with a pussy … but then there was more. I was there, actually, for the pot, not the surprise member. When no girls were around, my best friend in high school and I would make out with each other as a last resort. Let’s see, I woke up in a guy’s house in New York, who I admired from theater camp, and he was sucking my dick. Did he think that I’d wake up and suddenly find him wildly attractive? I never looked at him the same way. And then there was this guy on a soap who was really cool, and he used to have lots of blow, and he kissed me with a five o’clock shadow, and that didn’t work for me. Then there was this hot young director, maybe five years ago, who I found standing behind me in a Royalton hotel robe that had a big boner pushing it up—and that wasn’t going to happen. I immediately started calling hookers to come over just to get a buffer between this, uh, potential intrusion.”

The grocery listing goes on. “My last foray,” he sums up, “was when one of my best friends came to Italy. I warned him about eating in Rome, that for them a four-star-rated restaurant was like a D-rated greasy spoon in Detroit. He got sick on a piece of fish. I wanted to get blow, and so we were heading to a gay bar to look for some, and I kissed him out on the street. I was drunk, and it just felt right.” Downey’s done—almost. “If I was gay, I’d do it the way Sir Ian McKellen has,” he says, “in a classy, tasteful way.” 

Robert Downey jr for Detour, 1999 (x)