Bi-Sexual Male / 52
Finding My Way, A True Story
Way back in my childhood, the boy who lived next door and I, both ten years of age, became good friends. We lived in the country in a small town, less than 1000 people. Without a lot of things to do, we'd go exploring.
The next house had a barn across the road. One summer day, we decided to check it out again. This time, some of the hay bales had been broken up, food for the cows. We pushed it into piles, so we could jump and roll in it. After a bit, with hay getting into our clothes, he suggested we take them off.
We both began stripping, I stopped at my briefs while he took everything off.
"Why don't you take yours off too??" he asked.
I was embarrassed at the thought of him seeing me naked since only my family had. But he had bared himself, so I slowly lowered my briefs and stepped out of them. When I looked at him again, he was staring at me. I turned to hide myself from him but he said, "Don't. I like to see you like this."
Surprised, yet thrilled, I turned back to exhibit myself before him. "That's better," he said smiling. When he stepped toward me, I knew we weren't going to play in the hay any more that day.
In the days and weeks that followed, we would go some place to be alone, get naked, and touch each other. But he wasn't satisfied with just holding my small hard penis, nor mine holding his. We began to invent sex games. That satisfied our boy lust for awhile.
When my birthday came around, after the party he told me he had a special gift for me but we had to be alone. I was thrilled because I knew we would be naked soon.
In the barn, we'd moved some bales around to create a small cavity behind the main area in the hay loft. After assuring ourselves nobody was around, we went there, and stripped.
"What is it??" I asked excitedly.
"I'll suck yours, if you'll suck mine," he told me, a huge grin on his face.
I agreed, he sank onto his knees, took my cock into his mouth, and began to lasciviously suckle me. It was so exciting, so heated that I almost fell over. Then he stopped.
"Your turn," he informed me, standing up. My heart was pounding as he rose.
"Go ahead," he said. "You'll like it."
Sensory overload is what I felt, when I took his small cock into my mouth, and my lips closed around it. The smell of his boy warmth, the taste of his boy cock, the feel of his bare flesh that I held in my mouth. Maybe boys are prewired to be suck cock; I certainly was. He was instantly moaning as I sucked, licked and kissed his penis, and balls. I had found my calling.
From then on, he'd suck me a little, while I spent much more time on his. When he stopped entirely, I didn't care. I wanted to suck his and he was pleased to let me.
Then tragedy! Dad had accepted a new job in a town some 200 miles away. My days of cock sucking ended abruptly.
Fast forward to my 50th birthday. Eleanor, my wife, had planned a small intimate affair with just a few friends. Plenty of wine and a bottle of champagne was sufficient to take the edge off of some inhibitions. Flirting, soft touches of other spouses seemed the norm though nothing had ever come of it. Or so I imagined.
I was deeply in love with my wife. We'd had our children who were in college or gone. Our home previously alive with kids and friends was now much quieter. A warm, loving relationship that kept me close to home and to her.
It was a surprise to walk into the kitchen and see her in the arms of a friend. I had not entered loudly nor fully when I saw them. Managing to back away, I simply observed. I felt my heart sink. The party grew less interesting now, lost as I was in my morose thoughts. I went out into the back yard to collect myself, when Don, my best friend, joined me. He seemed to sense my lose of enthusiasm.
"Hey, what's happened to the birthday boy??" he cajoled me.
We'd shared a lot in the past. "It's Eleanor," I began. Holding my breath, wondering if I should just spill it or say nothing more, I spilled. "She was kissing Gary. It didn't look like a friend kiss."
"Oh, shit!" said Don. "Damn it all." I was relieved that he cared. "Man, I hate to break this to you now on your birthday, which should be a happy one, but I guess you're are truly the last to know."
My eyes went wide, I felt anger and betrayal. "Are you telling me this has been...." My voice trailed off.
He took my hand. "I'm afraid so," he admitted.
Tears welled in my eyes; I felt one slide down my cheek. Near darkness had fallen with the setting of the sun. In that gloom around me, all my fears and disappointments burst out. I began to cry softly.
Don didn't hesitate to pull me into his arms to comfort me as best he could. No words were necessary. We stood holding each other, letting my tears flow.
When they ended, I tried to cheer up, unsuccessfully though. We had just stepped apart when Eleanor came out. "Oh, there you are. Others were asking about you," she said approaching and putting her arms around me.
I almost pushed her away, my scheming wife, but held back. She and I needed to talk but this was not the place.
"Just stepped out for a breath of air," I explained. "Let's go in."
Over the next several days, I began to notice little things I hadn't seen before or chose to overlook. How she would hang up her phone quickly if I came upon her suddenly. One afternoon she told me she was going shopping. The several hours that passed seemed normal enough, though now I was suspicious. When I kissed her hello, was that the taste of cum on her breath??
"Fool!" I berated myself. Even I knew better than to think such an outlandish thing.
Instead, I found myself talking more and more with Don, who was very sympathetic. Perhaps too much, but I didn't see that coming either. In one emotional moment, I fell into his arms. He held me there, allowing me to recover. When I leaned back to thank him, his mouth descended onto my lips and he kissed me.
Horrified, at first, for I'd never kissed a man, I struggled to free myself from his arms. He didn't release me and the kiss became more intense. I felt my body relaxing; even beginning to enjoy his kiss. We did it again and again, each one drawing me closer to Don.
My cock was a raging boner. I could tell his was too for he was grinding into my crotch. At first, reluctant then feeling braver, I ground back. "Let's take this to my bedroom," he said taking my hand and leading me.
I felt like a young bride being taken to the wedding bed. Don was so commanding, so confident of what was to happen. I was lost. Inside he pulled me close again to kiss long, slow, and passionately.
His hand reached down to find my hard on, longing to be pulled from the nest of my clothing. I resisted nothing. He stripped me, then undressed himself. Standing before me, his hard, thick cock seemed to beckon.
In a flash those afternoons in the barn, sucking cock, came back to me. I knelt knowing exactly what to do, to give my lover the best blow job he'd ever had.
Having release my gay genie, there was not returning it to the bottle. Nor did I want to.
Don urged me to come out to Eleanor but I declined. Rather, I confronted her, and made the proposal that we stay together, each having time with our lovers.
She was delighted. "Who is it??" she asked. "That pretty hussy, on Sixth Street??"
I refused to tell her, but her curiosity would not relinquish. One morning over coffee, she said, quite bluntly. "Who is it?? I want to know now."
We'd been living our joint lives for almost a year and she'd not caught me, although she was more open about her lover. Since we were so settled in this arrangement, I felt that this was the moment.
"Don," I said quietly.
So was she, quiet, that is. After almost a minute, she asked, "Don??"
"Don," I replied.
"Do you mean you are having.... gay.... sex with him??" she asked in a confused voice.
"That's the kind men have," I acknowledged.
"But," she said looking bewildered. "I just never thought... never took you for a.... " She stopped unable to say the word. But she did, eventually, although it was a struggle.
It's all in the past now. Eleanor and I are still married. She and Gary are still dating, although how his wife puts up with, I don't know. Don and I have celebrated our seven years together, albeit intermittently. Ironically Eleanor made the celebration a quiet one when she and Gary invited us to dinner with them. As an added bit of erotic adventure, she suggested that Don and I spend the night in our guest bedroom while she and Gary stay in the other.
Who says coming out can be so hard??
Way back in my childhood, the boy who lived next door and I, both ten years of age, became good friends. We lived in the country in a small town, less than 1000 people. Without a lot of things to do, we'd go exploring.
The next house had a barn across the road. One summer day, we decided to check it out again. This time, some of the hay bales had been broken up, food for the cows. We pushed it into piles, so we could jump and roll in it. After a bit, with hay getting into our clothes, he suggested we take them off.
We both began stripping, I stopped at my briefs while he took everything off.
"Why don't you take yours off too??" he asked.
I was embarrassed at the thought of him seeing me naked since only my family had. But he had bared himself, so I slowly lowered my briefs and stepped out of them. When I looked at him again, he was staring at me. I turned to hide myself from him but he said, "Don't. I like to see you like this."
Surprised, yet thrilled, I turned back to exhibit myself before him. "That's better," he said smiling. When he stepped toward me, I knew we weren't going to play in the hay any more that day.
In the days and weeks that followed, we would go some place to be alone, get naked, and touch each other. But he wasn't satisfied with just holding my small hard penis, nor mine holding his. We began to invent sex games. That satisfied our boy lust for awhile.
When my birthday came around, after the party he told me he had a special gift for me but we had to be alone. I was thrilled because I knew we would be naked soon.
In the barn, we'd moved some bales around to create a small cavity behind the main area in the hay loft. After assuring ourselves nobody was around, we went there, and stripped.
"What is it??" I asked excitedly.
"I'll suck yours, if you'll suck mine," he told me, a huge grin on his face.
I agreed, he sank onto his knees, took my cock into his mouth, and began to lasciviously suckle me. It was so exciting, so heated that I almost fell over. Then he stopped.
"Your turn," he informed me, standing up. My heart was pounding as he rose.
"Go ahead," he said. "You'll like it."
Sensory overload is what I felt, when I took his small cock into my mouth, and my lips closed around it. The smell of his boy warmth, the taste of his boy cock, the feel of his bare flesh that I held in my mouth. Maybe boys are prewired to be suck cock; I certainly was. He was instantly moaning as I sucked, licked and kissed his penis, and balls. I had found my calling.
From then on, he'd suck me a little, while I spent much more time on his. When he stopped entirely, I didn't care. I wanted to suck his and he was pleased to let me.
Then tragedy! Dad had accepted a new job in a town some 200 miles away. My days of cock sucking ended abruptly.
Fast forward to my 50th birthday. Eleanor, my wife, had planned a small intimate affair with just a few friends. Plenty of wine and a bottle of champagne was sufficient to take the edge off of some inhibitions. Flirting, soft touches of other spouses seemed the norm though nothing had ever come of it. Or so I imagined.
I was deeply in love with my wife. We'd had our children who were in college or gone. Our home previously alive with kids and friends was now much quieter. A warm, loving relationship that kept me close to home and to her.
It was a surprise to walk into the kitchen and see her in the arms of a friend. I had not entered loudly nor fully when I saw them. Managing to back away, I simply observed. I felt my heart sink. The party grew less interesting now, lost as I was in my morose thoughts. I went out into the back yard to collect myself, when Don, my best friend, joined me. He seemed to sense my lose of enthusiasm.
"Hey, what's happened to the birthday boy??" he cajoled me.
We'd shared a lot in the past. "It's Eleanor," I began. Holding my breath, wondering if I should just spill it or say nothing more, I spilled. "She was kissing Gary. It didn't look like a friend kiss."
"Oh, shit!" said Don. "Damn it all." I was relieved that he cared. "Man, I hate to break this to you now on your birthday, which should be a happy one, but I guess you're are truly the last to know."
My eyes went wide, I felt anger and betrayal. "Are you telling me this has been...." My voice trailed off.
He took my hand. "I'm afraid so," he admitted.
Tears welled in my eyes; I felt one slide down my cheek. Near darkness had fallen with the setting of the sun. In that gloom around me, all my fears and disappointments burst out. I began to cry softly.
Don didn't hesitate to pull me into his arms to comfort me as best he could. No words were necessary. We stood holding each other, letting my tears flow.
When they ended, I tried to cheer up, unsuccessfully though. We had just stepped apart when Eleanor came out. "Oh, there you are. Others were asking about you," she said approaching and putting her arms around me.
I almost pushed her away, my scheming wife, but held back. She and I needed to talk but this was not the place.
"Just stepped out for a breath of air," I explained. "Let's go in."
Over the next several days, I began to notice little things I hadn't seen before or chose to overlook. How she would hang up her phone quickly if I came upon her suddenly. One afternoon she told me she was going shopping. The several hours that passed seemed normal enough, though now I was suspicious. When I kissed her hello, was that the taste of cum on her breath??
"Fool!" I berated myself. Even I knew better than to think such an outlandish thing.
Instead, I found myself talking more and more with Don, who was very sympathetic. Perhaps too much, but I didn't see that coming either. In one emotional moment, I fell into his arms. He held me there, allowing me to recover. When I leaned back to thank him, his mouth descended onto my lips and he kissed me.
Horrified, at first, for I'd never kissed a man, I struggled to free myself from his arms. He didn't release me and the kiss became more intense. I felt my body relaxing; even beginning to enjoy his kiss. We did it again and again, each one drawing me closer to Don.
My cock was a raging boner. I could tell his was too for he was grinding into my crotch. At first, reluctant then feeling braver, I ground back. "Let's take this to my bedroom," he said taking my hand and leading me.
I felt like a young bride being taken to the wedding bed. Don was so commanding, so confident of what was to happen. I was lost. Inside he pulled me close again to kiss long, slow, and passionately.
His hand reached down to find my hard on, longing to be pulled from the nest of my clothing. I resisted nothing. He stripped me, then undressed himself. Standing before me, his hard, thick cock seemed to beckon.
In a flash those afternoons in the barn, sucking cock, came back to me. I knelt knowing exactly what to do, to give my lover the best blow job he'd ever had.
Having release my gay genie, there was not returning it to the bottle. Nor did I want to.
Don urged me to come out to Eleanor but I declined. Rather, I confronted her, and made the proposal that we stay together, each having time with our lovers.
She was delighted. "Who is it??" she asked. "That pretty hussy, on Sixth Street??"
I refused to tell her, but her curiosity would not relinquish. One morning over coffee, she said, quite bluntly. "Who is it?? I want to know now."
We'd been living our joint lives for almost a year and she'd not caught me, although she was more open about her lover. Since we were so settled in this arrangement, I felt that this was the moment.
"Don," I said quietly.
So was she, quiet, that is. After almost a minute, she asked, "Don??"
"Don," I replied.
"Do you mean you are having.... gay.... sex with him??" she asked in a confused voice.
"That's the kind men have," I acknowledged.
"But," she said looking bewildered. "I just never thought... never took you for a.... " She stopped unable to say the word. But she did, eventually, although it was a struggle.
It's all in the past now. Eleanor and I are still married. She and Gary are still dating, although how his wife puts up with, I don't know. Don and I have celebrated our seven years together, albeit intermittently. Ironically Eleanor made the celebration a quiet one when she and Gary invited us to dinner with them. As an added bit of erotic adventure, she suggested that Don and I spend the night in our guest bedroom while she and Gary stay in the other.
Who says coming out can be so hard??
