Sound familiar?
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When my wife, Ellen and I were dating, I was very romantic, and I gave her 12 roses. 11-real, and 1-plastic, telling her that I’ll love you till the last one dies. I one lucky bastard, Ellen and I have now been married for 5-years and she is great when it comes to being faithful and making home cooked meals. I don’t make her cook, she just loves to and she is great at it. These two things ruled in our marriage. One that she’s a mess with everything but cooking. She stresses out over the littlest things and other peoples issues. She is cranky from when she gets up, which, since she is out of work is usually around noon, until she falls back asleep that night. Ellen is a huge procrastinator and her bills wouldn’t get paid if I didn’t push her multiple times to mail the checks.
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Ellen is only 27-years old and acts like she has been working for 30-years straight with nothing to show. Now mind you she doesn’t have any bills except her car insurance, her half of the utilities, and her cell phone bill. She is too lazy to keep track of her minutes so her phone bill is always way over budget. I pay the rent, a car payment, my own insurance, the food for the house etc. When it comes down to actually having a day off, Ellen expects me to have plans made even though I’m the one working 60-70 hours a week. Then when I tell her what the day off plans are she gets pissed because it isn’t what she wanted to do.
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Lets not even get into actually getting ready to go out. I’m dressed and ready with the car started and Ellen is still running around trying to find things because she can’t put anything back in one place.
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When we do go out or even at home Ellen is never happy. Then when I ask what is wrong she always has something, headache, tired, cold, doesn’t feel good in general, stressed. There isn’t a day that passes when she wakes up before 10 am and says, “What a GREAT day,” and still feels the same way when her head hit’s the pillow. She hates meeting people and she hates being anywhere where there is a crowd of new faces.
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I don’t get it, are all women like this or am I just one lucky guy? I wasn’t raised to get divorced or to run around on my wife, but I'm a 28-year-old guy that hasn’t had sex in over 2-years. I’m at my wits end. Never in my life did I expect to be unfaithful to my marriage and especially with another guy. I had no prior bi-sexual experience until last night. A bunch of us from work usually have drinks after work at the local bar in the shopping center down the road. Last night my friend, Shana told me that she’d noticed the male bartender was checking me out. It was obvious in my bright red face that I was embarrassed. I said that was nasty, I was a married straight guy, and she was full of shit. Shana told me not to be too sure, because according to her when she was studying male sexuality in college, she learned that most men are bisexual and or gay. Their class, according to her, polled some real life guys. And that because they were told that they would remain anonymous, revealed some startling events. Most of them admitted to at least playing or had been played with or both with another boy’s cock while they were growing up. They admitted that this occurred from age 4 to almost puberty. But that after puberty most went on to live normal heterosexual lives. According to her, by puberty most boys have performed oral sex and or had oral sex performed on them by another boy. Most all of these boys said that they would never admit this to any one and felt ashamed about this behavior.
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Shana said that they also did a study on how grown men act with each other in adult life. Most men that say they are straight are actually homophobic because they are insecure of their sexuality. They are ashamed of a past homosexual experience that perhaps occurred in their childhood. The way they combat their guilt is to claim homosexuality is wrong. They fear being a homosexual thus the anger, rage, and the hate of gay bashing. Some men, on the other hand, actually feel that they are not committing a homosexual act if they are the ones getting a blowjob.
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When Shana told me all of this out my jaw dropped in disbelief. After hearing all this, it took me about 15-minuets of fighting my excitement and curiosity before I could look in the bartender’s general direction. Every time he would walk by, I went out of my way to be doing something in another direction. The first looks were quick stretch glances for fear that my work buddies would figure me out. Then, when my glass was running dry I realized I had to finally face him and order a drink.
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When I get nervous, for some reason I have this habit of lighting up a cigarette, even if I just put one out. Sometimes, I will light one up when I already have one lit, but that only when I’m really nervous like I am now. As I turned on my bar stool with a cigarette in my mouth, to call him over for my refill, he was standing there directly in front of me with the lighter already burning for my unlit smoke. My heart instantly skipped two or three beats. I was feeling confused and strangely aroused for the first time by the look from another man.
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I spent the next half an hour or so trading covert eye contact with the bartender, who got better looking by the second. I realized that my drinks were getting much stronger, which probably had a lot to do with it. At first he was just ‘good looking’ in a manly way. But he was quickly heading toward ‘male model’ status. He may have been a year or 2-younger than me, white, quite tall, and very well built, which did something for me, epically after six or seven shots.
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I was sick of the grade school flirt looks already and wanted to take this up a notch, but discreetly. I decided to order another drink and told him that I would be right back that I was going to the ‘little-boy’s’ room. I followed it with a quick wink and walked off towards the restroom. As I was washing my hands he walked through the restroom door and over to the urinal without as much as a look, and began to relieve him self. The silence was deafening and I thought I could hear my heart beat but the noise from his piss stream was drowning it out.
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"So, what's your name" he finally asked. I told him my name and he told me his. We made small talk for a minuet and then he asked me if I wanted to meet up with him after work or some time soon. I told him that sounded fun and gave him my cell number. He pulled an already written phone number out of his pocket on a drink napkin from the bar and stuffed it in my front pocket, making sure it was well in there. He moved even closer to me, said "See you out there," and walked out the door, without washing his hands. I was so shit faced at this point that I figured, what's the difference, his cock will be in my mouth soon anyway.
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I remained in the restroom and retrieved the napkin from next to my swollen cock. I looked at the note and it said basically that he wanted to see me in his car when he takes a break. Confused, I returned to the bar and had one more drink before I noticed him motioning me to the back door with his eyes. I knew what he wanted to do and I was ready.
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I told my friends that I had to run to blockbuster to pick out a new release before it was all rented and that I'd be right back. They thought nothing of it and went back to their conversation. I headed out the front door to make it look like I was really headed in the direction of the video store.
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As I arrived around the back of the building, I saw him standing next to a Saturn, parked tightly in a dark spot out of road sight. He waved and said to hurry that he only had a few minuets, so I scurried across the lot to him. He opened the door and sat down with his feet still on the ground. As I watched, he unbuttoned my pants and pulled me out his cock. After a few strokes, I told him that I’d never touched another guy before and that I wanted to feel him. I told him I would be quick that I just wanted to see it and just give it one little kiss. He unbuttoned his shorts and I slid them down just far enough for me to get what I wanted. I bent down and wrapped my hand around it. I slid his tube in to his mouth and started going to town.
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I came up for air, smiled at him and asked if he liked it. He told me yes it felt damn good, but the talking was kind of ruining it. I continued with his blowjob for another few minuets and then he sensed that he was going to erupt, and eased off a little. I giggled and mumbled, ‘go ahead,’ obviously cueing him to unload in his mouth. It only took him about thirty seconds to go off. And when he did, his load was so big that it felt like he was cumming and peeing at the same time. Like a pro, with moans of enjoyment I took every ounce of it down my throat.
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Pulling up his pants, he told me he had to return to work. I told him I would meet him back in the bar, that I'd walk around the front to avoid suspicion. As I was walking back to the bar I became nauseated at what I had just done with this guy. I was mortified that I’d just suck another guy’s dick and took his cum down my throat. I figured that my friends would cover my tab and I could just pay them back, so needless to say I just left without going back in. I never returned to that bar because of the thought of his male member makes my knees weak. My co-workers still go but I always have some excuse after that not to go. I'm sure from the knowing looks that Shana gives me that at least one of them knows something happened.
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All this was very confusing to me. While I was trying to figure myself out, my wife’s sister and her boyfriend, Derrick spent the night at our house. They got too drunk and decided to spend the night. My wife and her sister slept in our room and the boyfriend, Derrick and I sleep in the living room on the two sofas. The next thing I knew, I woke up with Derrick standing over me with his cock dangling in my face. I was so shocked that I opened my mouth to scream; but as soon as it opened, Derrick had his cock in my mouth in a heartbeat. As soon as it was in my mouth, Derrick grabbed my hair and started fucking me. I couldn’t stop him because he was way bigger than I am. As soon as he was done, Derrick went to the bathroom, peed and went back to bed as if nothing happened.
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This morning, when I got up everyone was already in the kitchen having breakfast. When Derrick saw me, he said, “Good morning,” as if nothing had happened and went on eating his breakfast. Now I’m really confused. When Derrick was assaulting me, since I didn't scream or yell or fight him until I died, then am I queer?
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All I know at this is that I have not told my wife about my attraction or experiences with other men and really don't plan on it. At least now I’m having sex.
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The end...
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