Closeted In A Very Manly Profession

I'm a closeted gay man in my fifties. I grew up in a world where gay people were made fun of and although somewhat accepted it was frowned upon. Especially if gay meant being a sissy gay. There were sissies, like the man that owned the furniture store. He was a sissy, wore sissy clothes, pink, lavender shirts, and his hand waved when he spoke. He had thin red lips. That he was a sissy was ok because he was also the decorator and the ladies liked his style. He was from New York and had studied at one of the big design schools.

The secret was of course kept very quiet. He liked boys. He was very nice to me and I was warned that he liked boys so to be careful. My mother was redecorating the living room and he came by, her worst fear was that he always insisted on selling new furniture, not just a small thing like a flower vase or something like that. When you called him you knew you were going to have buy furniture but you also knew that your living room was going to be the talk of the ladies' Canasta circle. I was twelve and he held my chin in his hand and told me I was a handsome boy.

He asked me to show him my room and he asked me if I liked it because quite frankly it needed to be improved. He talked my mother into redoing my room. A great big headboard and new bed cover, new curtains and pink sheets. Pink. Those new fitted sheets from the department store in the city. He said the sheets were a g*ft for me, that I was going to love them, they were so soft.

He also gave me a g*ft, wrapped in expensive lowered paper. Three pairs of girl panties, rose red, pink and his favorite color, lavender. I looked at him holding the package in my hands, he held my face in his hand and told me in a whisper to let the panties caress my weenie, to caress my bottom, to go put on my favorite color and come show him how they fit. And oh yes, he kissed me gently on the lips before patting me on the butt and sending me to try on a pair of panties. I chose the lavender panties, I stood there, just me and him, and he gently touched my penis and told me just what a handsome boy I was and he kissed me in a long tender kiss.

My mother's living room was the talk of the Canasta crowd, the ladies were all impressed. My mother didn't show them my room, but I liked it, of course I pulled the bedcover up high so no one would see the pink sheets. I wore my panties when I was alone, I slept in them, and my favorite pair became the rose red pair, with the hearts in the waist band. My weenie got hard in those panties and I had my first wet dream in them and my mother made me wash them in the sink with this special liquid. When we went down town we always went into the furniture store and I was always received with a hug and a pat on the cheek, or on the bottom. I fell in love with these panties at Target, but I was too embarrassed to talk to anyone in the women's underwear section. I was fourteen and she bought me these girl briefs, tight panties with lollipops on them.

I grew out of my faze of pink and lavender and by the time I got to college I was wearing regular underwear, masturbating every week, but I kept a couple of pair of sleek rose red panties for when I just got that feeling, and a bottle of that special soap to wash them in the sink. I kissed a boy in my Sophomore year, a kiss, a real kiss. He fought me but I was on top of him and I held him down and kissed him until he gave in and then I sucked his penis. He was embarrassed to have been kissed and have his penis sucked, but he liked it. We were closet lovers, he was always embarrassed to kiss and let me play with his penis, to suck him, and to finger his hole underneath. I pushes all the boundaries with him, I wanted to feel it all. I loved kissing him more than anything, and getting naked in my bed with him. He learned to suck my penis and to let me get on his back and do what came natural to me.