Sunday, August 25, 2013

Free? Or, Lost?

Anonymous writes, "But even the most carefully maintained secrets have a way of coming out especially in this digital age. Have you really examined what you'd do if they did? Would you be free to be who you truly are or would you have lost something that can't easily be replaced?"

I really wanted to get mad that Anonymous couldn't leave a name.  But, wait, then I remembered.  I am anonymous too.  I guess I deserve that.  The part of the question that stuck out for me was not the part about getting caught, it was the part that asked, once caught, would I be freed or would I have lost.  That is an interesting question, one that has rattled around in my head for a long time.

In the end, it really comes back to what I want, or what I think I want.  The problem is that the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence.  Who the hell really knows what they want?
"Maybe you’ll marry, maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll have children, maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll divorce at 40, maybe you’ll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don’t congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself either – your choices are half chance, so are everybody else’s."-Baz Luhrman "Everybody's Free To Wear Sunscreen" 
The other night, my wife and I were having dinner out at a restaurant.  For some reason we starting talking about the past, and the people we used to know.  An old friend of mine came up, someone that my wife sort of knew through someone else.  I asked if she knew that the guy turned out to be gay, which she didn't.  The realization washed over her face, followed by the "that-explains-so-much" face.  Then her face went slack, and she was lost in thought.  I asked her what was on her mind, and she softly, "That would be you if I hadn't dug my nails in to you."

Her fear is that I am really gay, just pretending to be happy in our marriage.  To be honest, I have had that
same fear many times.  I've spoken about the pendulum, that at times it swing way over to the gay side of the spectrum, and at others it is on the straight side. On this blog, I am reaffirmed by bisexuality time and time again, stating that I love my wife and wouldn't have it any other way.  Again, to be honest, that is not always the case.

I have thought, fantasized, many times about what life might have been like had I fallen in love with a man rather than a women.  Would I be happier?  Would I need to cheat on my man with a women?  I don't know.  The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence.  Then my wife asked, "That would be you if I hadn't dug my nails in to you?", and suddenly I imagine a possible life without her, a life alone.

My wife has always been the more aggressive of the two of us.  She knew what she wanted, and she did whatever she had to do to get it.  I had a vague idea of what I wanted, and was content to let things just happen as they did.  Put the two of us together, and the result is that she gets what she wants.  Fortunately, she wanted me.  So what would have happened if she hadn't wanted me?  Well, I could still be living with my roommates, a dysfunctional pair of women with no real life plans.  I could still be working at a fast food restaurant.  Chances are, I would be alone.  Not because I am not attractive or because I am not the funnest guy to hangout with, but because I was not in the habit of chasing after what I wanted.  Hell, just look how long it took to finally go after some sexual contact with a man.  The reality is that my wife is responsible for most of the happiness in my life.  The possible scenario of living alone and unwanted never really entered my mind until that moment.

Jack Scott recently wrote about the options a bisexual or married gay man have.  Clearly, there are lot of nobler guys than I.  I don't know if I will continue to seek out extra-marital affairs.  I don't know if I will work to include my wife more in that side of myself.  I just don't know.  But to answer the one question that I started out with in this post, were I caught, would I be freed? Or would I have lost?

The answer is, yes.

Saturday, August 10, 2013

A Little Dose of Reality

Okay, let's be honest.  I have shied away from talking about the issues of fidelity and the consequences of my actions on this blog.  I have never made excuses for my actions, but I have defended them by saying that I was choosing a course of action that did the greatest good for all involved.  I stand by those words.


Someone close to me, a friend whom I've known almost all my life, just came out of a situation that hit a little close to home.  She recently made the brave decision to follow her heart and get involved with someone whom she barely knew.  Turns out, that was a bad call.  The guy was not what he proclaimed himself to be, was not the person she thought he was.  He lied about other relationships, continued with other relationships while still dating her.  He even went as far as sexting one of his "friends" while in the same room with my friend. When she discovered all of this, she continued to follow her heart, and threw him out.

Their relationship seemed destined. They had so many things in common and seemed to compliment each other in all the right ways. She fell fast, and she fell hard. So much so that they were in the process of moving in together. When he fucked up, he screwed up his situation badly, because now he and his dog are literally homeless. All of this has created a drama that my wife and I have been unable to escape.

I am not saying that I have anything in common with this guy. Yes, there are obvious similarities in our situations and decisions, I won't deny that.  However, aside from a interest in sci-fi, we share nothing else in common.  He actually thought that flaunting these other women, even while lying about them, would generate a jealous reaction out of my friend that would cause her to fawn all over him. She wasn't having it.

The experience has opened my eyes a bit. It's interesting that all of this occurred after my last post where I was already questioning what I wanted for the future. I'm not saying that I have learned the error of my ways or anything, because let's all be honest. The urges that I've acted on will return with a vengeance and I was unsuccessful in ignoring them in the first place. All of this has given me new perspective, more to think about. It didn't help to hear all the talk from my wife about what she would do to a cheater!

Wednesday, August 7, 2013

What I Really Want

So tell me what you want, what you really really want,
I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna really really really wanna zigazig ha.

Full confession, I think I always have a song running in my head.  I fraking love music.  I wish I had an ounce of musical talent, but I don't.  I imagine I can sing, and reality does very little to stop me.  As I was typing the title to this post, a Spice Girls song popped into my head.  I couldn't resist, I should say sorry for possibly getting it stuck in your head. 

I digress.

I've thought a little bit about what I really want out of life.  Specifically, in my adventures on the other side of the line.  M2M action had been absent since my regular fuck buddy went out and found a boyfriend.  But that's okay, I wish him the best.  But what do I want?  Do I want to venture out again? I've crossed the line, I know what's on the other side.  The urge to go and explore is there, but not like it was before my first time. Maybe I want to call it quits for a while and focus on more honorable notions.

I have no answers, just wanted to rant for a bit.

Friday, June 28, 2013


I went to a customer's home today.  I had to stop by to take care of a couple of issues with some product we sold to him.  I called him ahead of time, to confirm a time.  He told me anytime was fine, he was retired, and he'd be home all day.  On the drive over, which took a little under an hour, I started thinking.  What if this guy is hot?  What if this guy is like me, likes to have some fun now and then.  I knew nothing at all about him, except that he was retired.  So that put him as older, but that wasn't saying much.  In my area of the country, I know a few guys less than 10 years older than me who are retired.  But I had absolutely no idea what he looked like, what he was like, what he was into.  And I was started to get a bit horny at just the possibility of something happening at this guys home.  Typically the customers that I visit in the middle of the day are women, and my mind just doesn't go there.

As I mentioned, the drive takes a little while.  It is a nice warm and sunny day, and I'm driving through this nice neighborhood with the windows down.  I'm letting my mind wander a bit about the possibilities.

I get there, turns out that it is a ways further than I thought up a winding road.  His house is pretty secluded, surrounded by trees and hills.  I'm thinking, "Damn!, what I would't give to live here".  I grab what I needed out of my car and walk up to the front door.  After a brief moment, he answers the door.  He is a much older man, white hair and beard, shorter, and with a big belly.  He could have easily played Santa Claus, not the hot guy in my short lived fantasy.  But you know what?  I was still horny, and I couldn't stop thinking about it the entire time I was there.  He was barefoot, and because I am all about customer service, I took off my shoes as well.  He took me around his house, showing me the issues that he needed help with.  He mentioned his wife, but she obviously was not home.  It wasn't long before I noticed the smell of weed on him, and I knew that he'd lit up less then a few minutes before I got there.

Nothing happened.  But as he took me around his house I kept thinking that with even the slightest hint, I'd
have no problem going down on him.  He was a nice guy, very personable.  He apologized for not being dressed nicer. He was in shorts and a button-up shirt.  I think I said something like on a day like today, I'd be wearing less.  The entire time I was there, I couldn't stop thinking about the possibilities of sucking his cock, or having him suck mine.  Then I started thinking about how I wouldn't be able to recognize the hints even if they were there.  I am so shy awkward, I certainly didn't know how to drop any hints myself.

I took care of the issues I could, made a promise to send others to take care of the rest.  I left with the urge to jump onto Squirt or Grindr or something to see what trouble I could get into before I went back to the office.  In the end, I just got something to eat and continued on my boring day.

What would you have done?  Forget that the guy may or may not have been your type, what would you have done if you were standing in the home of a guy that you wanted sex with?  What signs would you have looked for?  What hints would you have dropped?

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

BLM: The First Time

This is a repost of something I wrote for BLM, originally posted on February 8th, 2013. 
Despite my determination and progress, it wasn't until a couple of weeks after The First Move that I finally got to have my first time with a man.  I had written several posts about my deliberations, my attempts, and my failures.  I remember one or two readers commented something like, "Come on, just do it already!".  And I mirrored their sentiments, I was beyond anxious to finally do what I had set out to do.  But, as you can imagine, I was a bit scared as well.

With all the planning and thought that went into it, I was surprised by how spontaneous my first time actually was.  I had thought about it for years.  I spent more time than I am willing to admit planning and debating over the last few weeks and months.  I had made several attempts, but failed each time to follow through.  Then one morning in July, I received a text asking when was I going to come over, and I realized then and there that the only way to make this happen was to just do it.  Don't worry if everything is planned out right, just do it.

I responded to the text with "When do you want me?".  This was a guy that I had been texting with for a week or so.  I first found him on Grindr.  I knew he was a bit older than me.  I didn't know a whole lot about what he looked like, but I didn't care.  All I cared about was playing with his dick, and him playing with mine.  His response back was "Now!".

Now didn't work.  But I wasn't going to let this sudden burst of courage go, so I suggested lunch time.  At first, I don't think he believed me.  Then he happily agreed.  My heart started pounding, and it didn't stop until later that afternoon.

The whole experience, and the sex, had such an impact on me that it took 4 long blog posts to describe it even somewhat accurately.  I had to write about my fear.  My fear when I was driving over was so great that I had to circle the block several times before finally parking in front of his house.  My fear when I was walking around the side of his house was so great that I was panicked this was all a hoax, or that I was at the wrong house and was about to get arrested for trespassing.  I even, for a moment, thought about those "To Catch a Predator" shows, where a guy gets ambushed as he walks through the door.  I knew I wasn't a predator, but the fear of anything remotely like that happening was almost overwhelming, almost.

When I reached out my hand to grab the handle of sliding glass door in the back of the house, I know longer felt in control of my own actions.  I was in this surreal mode, where I was hovering just outside myself, watching my actions, hearing what was going on, but from a 3rd person perspective.  I opened the door, still couldn't see inside because the blinds were drawn, but heard my name being called out.

I wrote 4 long posts about the experience, my fear going into it.  How that fear melted away once I saw his cock.  How his cock felt in my hand, it was the first time I had touched another man's cock.  How his cock smelled, how it tasted, how it felt sliding across my tongue.  This was almost two years ago, but just thinking about it now has me horned up and rearing to go.  I wrote about my attempts to deep throat him, and how I discovered my own gag reflex.  His cock was thick and long, hot to the touch, and like a steel rod covered in soft silk.  It curved upwards, so I didn't slide down my throat the way I had imagined.  I also learned that I needed a lot of practice giving head, I had no where near the stamina it takes to do it properly.  I kept having to resort to using my hands.

I also wrote about having his mouth envelop my cock.  That was not my first blow job, but it was the first from a man.  Everything I had heard about men doing it better than women was proven in the first few moments.  He expertly brought me to orgasm, let me come in his mouth, and sent electric shocks throughout my body when he didn't pull off right away.  Even today, I am still not at his level in giving blow jobs.  Now that I had passed this threshold, that I had "crossed the line", I knew that I was going to get plenty of practice in the future.

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

BLM: The First Move

This is a repost of something I wrote for BLM, originally posted on February 1st, 2013. 

I remember the day I made The Decision well, it was also the day I decided to start my own blog.  I thought, "Hey, this is really brave of me, what I've decided to do, I need to tell somebody!"  But even though I made The Decision, it was still some time before I actually acted.

I was chatting up a guy, I think on Grindr, with whom I was starting to feel pretty comfortable. He and I texted back and forth real late one night.  I was in bed, with my wife sleeping beside me.  I think he was in bed too, with his man sleeping right beside him.  Maybe his man wasn't asleep, I'm not sure.  Anyways, the texting was a mix of sexting, and serious conversation. During the conversation he mentioned that he and his man liked to have threesomes sometimes. Then, after some flirtatious messages, he told me that he and his man would love to have me over.

Flash forward to a couple of days later, I'm sitting at work, bored, in a cubicle with not much to do.  Things were not going well at work, but that is an entirely different story.  All I need to say is that the company was struggling, and it had absolutely nothing to do with my performance.  It did, however, give me lots of free time with very little supervision.  Anyways, I am sitting in my cube, thinking about dick, because, really, what else is there to think about?  And it hit me, I can have my first man on man experience be a threesome!  How great is that?!?  In a threesome, there would be less pressure on me.  Because, worse case scenario, I could sit back and watch.  And, oh man, how I would just love to sit back and watch two guys get it on with each other!  I already had an offer, the guy told me that he and his man wanted me over.  So, time to use these newly grown balls I had and make something happen.

I texted the guy, "Hey, what do you think about me coming over after work?".

The guy takes his time to respond, but at first his response was positive. "Really?  What do you want to do?"

Uh...  Now that really put me on the spot.  It was one thing to get up the guts, it's a whole new things to actually write out what I want!  I can't remember exactly what I said, but I was able to express that I was looking to get into bed with both of them, without clothes, and I tried my best not to be coy.  (Remember that I am naturally shy.)

"Cool, let me go ask 'soandso'", he answers.

I wait, then I wait a little more.  I wait a half hour, a full hour, all day.  It was actually only a few minutes, but it felt much much longer.  My heart is pounding so loudly that I can't really hear what is going on in the office.

"Soandso says that he is not in the mood." What the....   "He says that he really wants to get fucked."

Apparently, whatever I said, I said it in a way that gave him the impression I was not willing to stick my dick in an ass.  Seriously, I was like....   I don't even know.

This interaction became the subject of my very first blog post.  I simply could not except that I had finally did something more than just think about doing something, only to get shut down.  I tried, in vain, to get something going with two other guys that I was chatting up pretty regularly, but nothing.

In hindsight, all of this was good for me.  I proved to myself that I could take that next step, which gave me the courage to finally take it.  (Admittedly it took longer than some of my readers liked)  I proved to myself that I was not a chicken.  I was fully committed to driving over to their house, and jumping into bed with not one, but two men, one of whom I'd never even chatted with.  But I was glad that it didn't happen.  I think my actual first time experience was exactly what I needed.  And, I have yet to stick my dick in an ass.

Saturday, June 1, 2013


Every morning, I put it on.  I walk outside, and I am gone. And I don’t seem to mind anymore.  I can’t think what it was like before I wore it all the time

In the evening, I take it off.  But there’s another one underneath, and I can’t seem to find the bottom of the stack.  I might just lose my mind and never get it back, but at least I’ll get inside

There’s a feeling that I get sometimes, it’s so small that it’s easy to hide. It’s like a howling voice from a distant past.  It seems I’ve got no choice when it comes to this.  It’s building up inside


Friday, May 31, 2013

Cold Feet

I wish I could say that when given the chance to visit a bathhouse, I took full advantage.  But, sadly, that wasn't the case.  I wrote a fictional story last week about taking that kind of leap.  The first part of the story was true.  I was in another town for the night.  I did check online out of curiosity to see what might be going on in this town, and I did come across a listing for the "oldest" bathhouse in the country.  I can't tell you how excited I get, and a bit scared too if I'm going to tell the truth.  Long time readers know how long it took me to take that first step across the line.

When I saw the listing on, like I said, I got excited.  I started digging for as much information as I could get.  I found reviews on many different sites, all encouraging.  All said that this was a place anyone could visit without fear of ridicule.  I even found articles written in somewhat mainstream publications about the establishment, and the owner.  Everything seemed above board.  And the more I read, the more excited I got.

I made up my mind to go.  It was only a mile's walk from the hotel I was staying out, so I wouldn't even have to bother the valet to get my car.  I hadn't eaten anything in a while, but I decided that it would probably be best to eat afterwards.  It was around dusk, which at this time of year means that it was after 8 pm.  I made up my mind to go, and I hopped in the shower.

Two things happened in the shower.  First, I started to think a little too much, and I started to let fear get to me.  Second, more importantly, I got a little too excited, if you know what I mean.  :)

After I blew my wad in the shower, all my motiv

ation was gone.  I got dressed, still in the mindset that I was going.  But I was lying to myself at that point.  In the end, I went downstairs to eat dinner in the hotel restaurant.  I really didn't give it much thought after that.  Well, I did think about it much later, around midnight.  But, it was a long day, and I was tired, and there was no way I was getting back up out of bed.

The only good point in all of this is that I have reason to visit this town again, maybe even on a monthly basis if I really wanted to.  So, I will have plenty of chances to visit this bathhouse in the future.  I could even become a regular if it is what people say it is.  Another plus, Wednesday nights are half-off!

Wednesday, May 29, 2013

BLM: The Decision

This is a repost of something I wrote for BLM, originally posted on January 25th, 2013. 

I've known my whole life that I'm attracted to men, and women, but more so men. As a kid, going through my dad's extensive porn magazine collection, my favorites were Penthouse because they showed pictures of men.  Penthouse letters were even better.  I've known my whole life, at least that part of my life worth remembering.  But I never acted on it (until recently).  For most of my life, the most I had ever done to explore this side of my sexuality was to write about it.  I wrote in my own private journals about the boys I had crushed on in High School.  And I wrote x-rated short stories. I wrote to men I found on online.

You would think I would be a prime candidate for one of those situations where boys fool around with each other.  But no, I never sought or was presented with the opportunity to explore, unless you count an extremely awkward experience with a neighborhood kid when I was 5.  No tomfoolery in the locker room, no fun on camping trips, no sleepovers.  I am shy.  My whole life I've been shy.  I don't know why.  It is not necessarily a trait common in my family.  Maybe it was because I was constantly moving around growing up, so I never had a steady group of friends.  Maybe it was my homosexual side causing insecurities.  Maybe it was my heterosexual side confusing my homosexual side.  I just don't know.

I can't tell you the exhilaration I felt when I made the decision to finally explore that side of myself.  Keep in mind, I had no plans, no opportunities, and I was married and in love.  All that changed was my resolve and my determination.  Just that decision alone got my heart pumping. Every time I thought about what I had decided to do, my heart started pumping.  I reconciled my mixed feelings on longing, guilt, and fear (at least for the moment).

Technology certainly played it's part.  The advent of new mobile apps such as Grindr made it extremely easy to find guys.  By the time I downloaded Grindr, I already had a couple of ongoing, online, conversations with men I found in other parts of the world.  Chatting online was my release.  Sexting, emailing, etc.  But these guys were safe, because they were at least hundreds of miles away.  There was absolutely no chance of accepting an invitation to hookup.  Grindr changed that.  When I began chatting with guys on Grindr, they were in my own backyard.  The invitations were real. I really could just slip away for an hour or two and fulfill my fantasies.  Even still, I was on Grindr for months before making the decision to act.  The conversations were more exciting, because the possibilities were more real.  I didn't actually think I was going to act on them though.

The day I made the decision to act changed everything.  Every chat on Grindr had the added excitement of a real opportunity. Every invitation got my pulse racing, and my dick throbbing.  I remember one guy, who was working at a bank next to the grocery store where I was currently shopping, begged me to stop by for a few minutes before going back home.  That chat forced me to hide my erection behind the shopping cart the entire shopping trip.  I downloaded other apps, Growlr and Scruff.  I began responding to ads on craiglists a little too.

I didn't meet the guy at the bank.  Those of you who followed my blog know that even after I made the decision, it still took me quite a bit of time to muster up the courage to actually act.  I enjoyed riding the wave of my new found thrill, chatting with real possibilities.  Every time I left my house, to go to work, to go to the store, I turned on those apps to see what real possibilities were out there.  Just making The Decision to act, not now, but at some point in the future satiated my desires.  Even if just for a short time.

Friday, May 24, 2013

Bathhouse {IUbR}

He rounded the corner and saw his destination, an unmarked, unassuming, building hidden away off the main street.  His heart was pounding in his chest as he made his way down the street.  He still wasn't entirely sure he was going inside.  When he set off on this stroll, he was determined.  But along the way he started to waiver, he told himself that he would just walk by and check things out and then he would decide what he would do.  He kept walking towards the building.  Now he was nervously looking around, looking over his shoulder, to see who was watching him.  He knew that everyone on the street, everyone in the neighboring houses and passing cars were all watching him.  They were all waiting for him to turn up the little cement walkway in front of the building, waiting to see if he was another customer, so that they all could point and whisper.

He arrived in this town earlier that afternoon.  It was a business trip.  He had spent the first part of the day with one coworker in another town; then came here for the night so that he could spend tomorrow with a different coworker.  We he arrived, he had no intention of going out or hooking up.  He had no plans beyond dinner.  But after he had checked into his hotel room and settled in a bit, he couldn't resist the temptation to jump online to see what might be going on in this town, the biggest little city in the world.

On, he came across a listing for a bathhouse.  It was advertised as the oldest bathhouse in the country.  He'd never been to a bathhouse before, and was more than intrigued.  He'd thought a lot about visiting one closer to home, but never found the time or the guts.  So, while sitting in his hotel room, he started to suck up every little bit of information he could get on this place.  He read reviews, every one of which said the reviewer had had a great time.  He read blog posts and news articles.  Everything thing he found told his that this was a safe and friendly place to visit.  So he made up his mind, and hopped in the shower.

Now he was standing out front.  There were no signs, nothing to tell the world that this was a bathhouse.  Nothing that said, "Hey look everybody, sex is going on in here!"  He only knew it was the right place because of the address and the photos posted online.  He wanted desperately to go inside, but couldn't bring himself to take the next step.  He just stood there, heart pounding, cock growing, and a few beads of sweat running down his forehead.  A car went by on the street behind him, and he suddenly realized that he was standing out on the sidewalk for everyone to see.  He either had to turn back, or go inside.  He took a step, then another, then some more and without much thought reached out with his hands and grabbed the door knob on the plain brown door.  The door opened, and he stepped inside.

Once inside, he, Kyle, found himself in a small foyer.  He would not be able to honestly describe what happened next; how he talked to the grey-haired man behind the counter, paid his dues and received a towel.  How he made his way the locker room, undressed, then continued deeper into the bathhouse with nothing but the towel wrapped around his waist.  He wouldn't be able to tell you about the private rooms he passed, some with men beckoning him inside by presenting their bare ass.  He wouldn't be able to tell you how he made his way to the dark theater with gay porn showing on the big screen.  It wasn't until he was sitting in a love seat, and another man was getting on his knees in front of him, that Kyle's full senses returned.

The man, Kyle could still see clearly even though the room was dark, was a fine specimen of a well-built jock.  He was older than Kyle, probably by at least a decade.  That didn't make him old, though.  Kyle himself was only in his twenties.  As the man slid his hand up Kyle's thigh, Kyle was thinking that the man's arms were even thicker than his own, and he was impressed.  The man slid his hand underneath Kyle's towel and began to massage Kyle's pelvic region.  Kyle slumped back deeper into the couch, spreading his leads, and giving the man all the invitation he needed.  Without much hesitation, the towel was pulled away and Kyle's cock was deep in this man's mouth.

Kyle wasn't hard yet, maybe a little less than half-mast.  But this guy was clearly a master at his craft, and Kyle's cock sprang to life.  Kyle began to moan as this man's head began to bob up and down on his throbbing dick.  Oddly enough, this is when Kyle noticed that they were not alone in the room.  In fact, a small crowd was beginning to form around them.  He found that he liked the attention, and decided to live it up.  He began to massage on of his own nipples with one hand, and he brought the other to rest on the cocksucker's head.  And he began to moan loader.

The man alternated between sucking on Kyle's cock and sucking on Kyle's balls.  At times, he also pulled up on of Kyle's legs to gain access to his taint and hold.  Kyle was loving every minute, every sensation.  The scene only got hotter as Kyle watched the guys around them start to stroke their own cocks.  The man finally gave his full attention to Kyle's cock again, bobbing his head up and down, swirling his tongue around the head, applying just the right amount of suction.  Kyle was getting close, and the six or seven guys in a circle around him were getting close as well.  Kyle moaned louder, grabbed the cocksucker's hair and forced him down harder.  The cocksucker double his efforts, if that was possible, and Kyle was exploding within moments.  It seemed as though a constant stream of cum erupted out of Kyle's dick and rushed down the man's throat as waves of pleasure washed over his body.  As he opened his eyes, strings of cum were flying over his as each of the men around him came in succession.

Kyle closed his eyes again, let his head fall back against the couch, and enjoyed the bliss.  When he opened his eyes, most of the men were moving away.  The man, the cocksucker was already up and walking out of the room.  Kyle hoped that he would catch up with him once more before the night was over.  That was when he felt somebody move up behind him.  He turned his head to the left, and his eyes were filled with the sight of the most beautifully large cock he'd ever seen.

Wednesday, May 22, 2013

BLM: Losing Control

This is a repost of something I wrote for BLM, originally posted on January 18th, 2013.  

For the first time ever, I was concerned about losing control. I couldn't have been more than two feet behind him. I was sitting in one of those uncomfortable chairs they have in conference halls, sitting around one of those round tables that seats about 10 each. Our chairs were turned, towards the front of the room, at an angle that put the guy in front of me literally between my legs. And I was worried about losing control. I was worried that I was going to forget myself and reach forward to wrap my arms around his waist. I saw myself nuzzling my nose and lips into the nape of his neck as I ran one of my hands down to his crotch. Then I mentally slapped myself, to keep from being made a complete fool.

I was attending a business meeting in another state. In all, 30 or 40 of us were there from all around the country. These were my colleagues, people who held the same position as me, and I've never met any of them. The meeting was scheduled to last for two days, and I arrived in the city the night before. I spent a little time in my hotel room looking up online some of the people I might be meeting. I came across a photo of a guy on LinkedIn that caught my eye. The guy was hot! The photo was obviously professionally done, much better than the usual profile pic. But that's not what made the guy hot. It was the dark hair, blue eyes, chiseled jaw, slight smile. I could tell he was tall, though probably not as tall as me. I like 'em tall. He was my age, which honestly is older than what usually catches my eye. But I never really thought that I would meet the guy. I didn't have any clue as to who was going to be at this meeting. But a little wishful dreaming never hurt, right? 

I was dumbfounded when he walked into the meeting hall the next morning. He looked every bit as good as his profile photo. It took me a minute or two to realize I was staring, but I don't think he noticed. After the initial shock I was able to collect myself and regain a little composure. Then a little while after that, I was actually able to push myself outside my comfort zone.  I walked up and introduced myself. He was polite, shook my hand and all the normal stuff. Parts of me started to stir when he smiled. He had an awesome smile.

He had a tagalong, another guy that followed my guy around every where he went. Tagalong was good looking too, in his own right, but not anywhere in the same league. My guy (Yes, for the duration of the trip he was "my guy") obviously knew he was hot, but he didn't come off as stuck up or full of himself. He just had an air of confidence, he knew he could have anything or anyone he wanted. In my fantasies, he had everyone he wanted. In my fantasies, Tagalong even got a little action too. 

Despite my crush, I behaved. I behaved throughout that day's meeting. I behaved at the NBA game later on that evening. I did not behave, however, in my dreams that night, and I was struggling to behave myself the next morning. I was sitting there in the middle of a room filled with people, and I had to interlock my fingers together to keep from "accidentally" giving him a shoulder message. I had to keep shifting my focus away so that I wouldn't accidentally pull his head back and kiss him on the mouth. I doubt I made any impression on him. I was just another colleague in the crowd. I never got the impression that he liked to play with men, except that Tagalong was always just a little too close and a little too happy. I could just be projecting, though. I've never struggled so much to control myself before. I've never been so afraid of doing something completely stupid. Sure, I've lusted after friends and colleagues before, and fantasized about a few. But this was the first time in my life I feared losing myself.

I'm ashamed to admit that I still look at his profile picture from time to time. And I am sure that he knows it, because this particular social media service reports that information.  I wonder what he thinks of that. The future will hold many more chances for me to make a fool of myself, I am sure. We are colleagues after all, and despite that we live and work on opposite coasts I can come up with many excuses to interact.

Friday, May 17, 2013

Imagination Unrestricted by Reality

I have this recurring fantasy that takes over every time I lie down.  Well, not every time, just when I lie down on my stomach, in the nude, which is my preferred way to sleep.  I lie down, naked, with my arms slid under the only pillow.  I have one leg stretched out straight, and the other pull up so that my weight is shifted slightly to one side and my ass checks are spread slightly.  Every time I do this, the same fantasy takes hold.

First, I feel pressure on my shoulders as two oiled up hands begin to massage my muscles.  My arms are raised above my head, so my shoulder muscles are flexed.  The two hands begin to knead those muscles, and I begin to realize how tense I was.  Then I feel weight on my ass and lower back as the owner of the two hands lays his body on top of mine.  As he does so, he straightens out the one leg that I had pulled up.  So now I laying even on my chest and stomach, with his full weight pressing on top of me.  I don't care, I am enjoying the immense pleasure his hands are giving my shoulders and back.  I realize, slowly, that there is something trapped between my ass cheeks.  He'd managed to rest his hard cock along my crack before pushing my leg down.  Now his cock is resting snugly there, like a hot dog in a bun.  My own cock begins to come to life, pressed firmly between my pelvis and the bed sheets.  Without thought, I begin to grind my cock slowly into the bed, at the same time tightening the grip my "buns" have on his "meat".

Still, I don't care.  I haven't even given a thought as to who the man is, or what my wife who is almost always lying next to me might be thinking right about now.  I don't care, the bliss I am feeling from his tender but firm massage is like a drug.  His hands have slowly explored my shoulders, my neck, all of my back.  It is as if I have never known the touch of another human being before.  All I care about is his hands, all I could wish for would be another pair.

Even the best drugs eventually wear off.  Fortunately, when some semblance of consciousness returned during the massage, it was met with the equally pleasurable feeling of his hips slowly grinding against my ass.  His motion forced my own hips to grind harder into the firm bed.  His cock was rock hard, sliding up and down inside my crack.  I still don't know who this is, nor do I care.  I can tell that was more endowed than the average man.  I can tell that his cock is as oiled up as his hands were when we began.  My own cock is pulsing, sending shivers up to my skulls and down to my toes with the rhythm of our hips.

His hands take a stationary position on my shoulder blades as he leans in close.  I can feel his breath on my neck and just behind my ear.  He leans in closer and I can feel the stubble of his chin rub against my skin.  He whispered into my ear something soft, something that I could not quite make out.  I asked what he said as I felt his hips raise up slightly.  He repeated himself, still softly, into my ear, "Hang on to something, I am going to FUCK you now!"

With that, his cock found my hole and slid inside with one masterful stroke.  I quickly grabbed the sheets with my hands, and bit the pillow to stifle the scream.  I didn't care if my wife was really lying next to me, but something in me didn't want to cry out.  I felt something between a loss of consciousness, sharp pain, and immense pleasure all at the same time.  I was both ready, and completely unprepared at the same time.  He slid is cock into my ass, to the hilt.  Paused for a brief moment as he and I both caught our breath, then began his assault.  One hand he slid under me and grabbed by pec.  The other he moved to support himself on the bed.  He picked up his pace, increasing speed with each insertion.  I'm still biting the pillow, and I've pulled the fitted sheet away from the corner of the bed.  The pain subside, and a wave of ecstasy overwhelms me as he finds his pace and rhythm.

I couldn't say how long this lasts.  I always snap out of it before he finishes.  I come back to reality, realize that my wife is lying there next to me as if nothing happened.  Although I am sure that she has noticed my grinding my hips on more than one occasion.  Sometimes, I get up and "nonchalantly" excuse myself to the bathroom to relieve some pressure.  Other times, more often than not, I re-enact the scene.  Only this time for real, and this time I am the man on top.

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

BLM: Yeah, I crossed the line

This is a repost of something I wrote for BLM, originally posted on January 11th, 2013.  I decided to repost it here, well, because I can.  Enjoy!

Something strange and wonderful happened about a year and a half ago, I decided to grow a pair.  I made a decision that I was not going to live life without experiencing the one thing that I most desperately wanted to experience.  It was around that time that I started blogging.  I was so pumped up with determination, the only thing that brought me down was knowing that I had to keep it a secret form everyone I knew.

You see, while I finally mustered up the courage to correct something fundamentally wrong in my life, it was not a decision I could be publicly proud of.  It was not even something for which many of you, the readers that I love, would commend me.  I had decided to step out on my marriage, to cheat, with another man. I had decided to get me some of that cock I dreamt about.  As messed up as it sounds, I was excited about it.  I would even go so far as to say that I was proud of my new found guts.  So proud that I wanted to shout it from the rooftops, "No longer will I be afraid of putting myself out there! No longer will I be afraid of taking risks to get what I want!"  Never mind how stupid and dangerous the risks, or the trust I will violate in the process.

So, yeah, I crossed a line.  I wrote about it in my blog, Bi Crossing The Line. I am not here to advocate that any other man do the same.  I have no excuses or justifications. I began writing about it, publicly but anonymously, in June of 2011.  I wrote about it because writing clears my mind and provides catharsis.  I wrote about it because, though I felt I finally had the balls to see it through, I needed encouragement.  I didn't realize it then, but now I see that I made a commitment to some imaginary readers in my very first post.  That was the added little push to ensure that I didn't back out at the last moment.

I learned something valuable about myself through this experience.  First, that I am capable of so much more than I even imagined.  Second, that the best way for me to accomplish something is to say it out loud.  Or, in this case, write about is publicly.  It is not enough to make a promise to myself because I learned how to let myself down gently a long time ago.  No, I need external pressure, I need someone else to hold me to my commitment and to call me out on my bullshit.

When this opportunity to write for BLM came along, I couldn't let it pass.  For too long I have told myself that I should write more on my blog.  My recent lack of posts has had a much more profound effect on me than any effect I imagined it having on my readers.  I have a chance at reaching a much larger audience, and I have a commitment to write on a regular basis.  Thank you, BLM.  And thanks to this community of bloggers and readers that I have come to enjoy.

Saturday, May 11, 2013

I've Been Busy

No, I know, I haven't posted a whole hell of a lot this year.  I didn't post a lot last year either.  The excuse I tell myself is that I've been busy.  It has been a crazy 20 months, a lot has been going on.  I've gone from hating my job and being bored, to unemployed and being stressed, to a new job I'm not exactly qualified for and being stressed for completely different reasons.  Meanwhile, my family grew, we lost our home, and we've moved to a different city.  Yeah, a lot has been going on.  So that's why I haven't blogged a whole lot. Okay?  Well, maybe that's not exactly right.

The new job is stressful.  I have taken on responsibilities that not only are new and different than what I am used to, but are not exactly a match for my personality and behavior.  You see, I am not an aggressive person.  I am not a dominant person.  On a DISC analysis, I would rank as a "High S".  S is for steadiness. High S's are known for being patient, predictable, consistent, deliberate, steady and stable.  My second descriptor would be I, I is for Influencing.  Main characteristics for my "I" are trusting and sociable.  Basically, I like to serve, I like to be helpful, and I am trusting.  I actually like these things about me.  But, my new job is in sales.  Worse than that, my new job is in managing sales reps.  Characteristics that are helpful for people in my line of work are demanding, driving, ambitious, determined, aggressive, competitive and venturesome.  These are characteristics of a High D, D is for Dominance.  Characteristics that describe my dominance are conservative, calculating, hesitant and low-keyed.  Can you see where I might have a problem?

I am an intelligent person.  Perhaps, without sounding condescending, I possess slightly higher than average levels of intelligence.  With such, I am convinced that I can be successful in any role that I decide to take on. If that requires adopting characteristics that were outside my comfort zone, so be it.  I am still as convinced of this today as I was 8 months ago when I took this job.  What I did not account for, and this is what is really starting to bother me, is the effect taking this job would have on my mental state.  Everyday, as I slowly realize that success in this job are going to take longer and more work than I anticipated, I get slightly more depressed.  Everyday I start to consider a little bit more the idea of throwing in the towel and doing something else.  I know that I can be successful.  But given all the other challenges that I am currently enduring, do I still really want to be?  Failure, even the idea of failure, is contributing to my depression.

I thought things would be different at this point in my life, in my marriage.  Given more than 10 years of marriage, and almost another decade of courtship prior to that, my wife and I should be able to endure anything that comes our way with ease.  Right?  Why, then, is it so difficult to have a simple conversation about budgeting our money?  Why, then, can't I tell her that I do not agree with her reactions to things that our dog does, or to the things that our son does?  Why is communication so fraking difficult?  I want so much for my family.  I do not want to live where we are living longer than we need to.  I do not want to continue living from check to check, worrying about how we are going to pay the rent.  I want to provide everything the world has to offer for my son.  I want my family to be comfortable, where our only worry is how we can best help our neighbors, friends and family.  Why can't I express any this with any eloquence to my wife?

A midst all of this, there is still my secret.  My bisexuality is not a secret from my wife, but my willingness to act on it is, my history of acting on it is as well.  All of our struggles have pushed this part of me to the back burner, but it hasn't turned off the flame.  The reality is that I am too busy and too stressed and too depressed to do anything about it. I went down this road, crossed this line, with the idea that one day I would be able to live this part of my life, too, out in the open.  Maybe not to the general public, but to those I care about the most.  To my wife.  We were supposed to be on a path to a healthier relationship.  We're not, and I am not sure what I can do about it.  Certainly, I must bridge this communication gap.  How exactly do I do that?  The realization that my ideal state is that much further away, perhaps completely out of my grasp, is contributing to my depression.

I write this post today not to explain my lack of blogging.  In the end, I write for me.  One thing that I have learned in life is that writing gives me clarity.  Sometimes, it even gives me therapy.  I am not asking for answers, although I have found many in this community and for that I will always be grateful.  I am not asking for anything.  I am only using this space to bare a piece of me that needed to be bared.

Sunday, April 28, 2013

A Little Crush

I think I might have a problem.  I think I might have a crush, at least a small one, on a guy I work with.  I've been thinking about him more and more.  Technically, I am his boss.  In my capacity as his boss, I have spent some days over the last few weeks riding with him from appointment to appointment.  He works in the field, all my colleagues work in the field.

So, this colleague has not been doing particularly well lately.  His job performance has been sub-par, which has drawn a lot of scrutiny because he used to be one of the top performers.  He also has a who host of personal issues going on at the same time.  In my ride-alongs, I have taken the time to coach and to really get at the heart of what is wrong.  I've had to be more aggressive, more forceful, when explaining what I need from him.  I've learned that this guy and I share a lot of the same personality characteristics.  We are both more subservient than we are dominant.  (I know, I'm the manager and I am subservient.  It makes for interesting challenges for me)  I don't particularly like the use of "sub" before servient, but my spell check insists.  But I digress.  An interesting aspect of my personality type is that when I am around someone who is more dominant, I become more subservient.  And I've learned that this guy is definitely the same way; the more dominant I am, the more subservient he becomes.  (Yes, I have learned how to be dominant when I need to.)

Lately, in my conversations with him, I have been overcome with the urge to grab his neck and draw him into a kiss.  Or, I would fantasize about grabbing his package.  A couple of the conversations have taken place outside next to his car or mine, since that is where he likes to go to smoke.  And I admit, I have smoked with him, even though I quit a very long time ago.  Fantasizing about a guy standing right in front of me is somewhat unnerving, it is not something that I am used to.  I guess, I just haven't been lucky to work with overly-attractive guys.  Oh yeah, this guy is pretty good looking.  He is tall, dark hair and blue eyes.  Well built, he obviously takes good care of his body.  He is a little bit older than me by a few years.  Oh, and I should also mention that he is gay.  He is gay and has been married to his husband for more than a decade.

I think I wrote about the first time I almost "lost control" in a blog post for BLM.  (Maybe I should copy those posts here?  Since BLM is no longer blogging.)  Like I mentioned then, the feeling of almost losing control in that way is not something that I have experienced a lot of.  On at least three separate occasions, I have fantasized about doing something completely inappropriate with this guy while I was deep in conversation with him.  The fantasies are so really, I actually see myself reaching out to him.  I can feel his lips pressing onto mine, his hands on my back.  The experience is scary, one slip up and I risk not only exposing myself to him, but to everyone at my company.  One slip up, and I risk exposing everything to everyone.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy the fantasy, and the thrill.  When I realized that I was thinking about him when he wasn't standing right in front of me is when I started to worry about a bigger problem.  I cannot act on any sort of crush on him.  I am his boss, he knows my wife, everyone knows that he is gay.  Everything I do must be completely above board.

Maybe I am only feeling this way because it has been awhile since I have had any kind of contact with a guy.  But, work crushes aside, I really have not given much though to it.  I
haven't written any blog posts, had any contact with M, signed into Grindr or Craigslist.  I have even struggled keeping up with the other blogs that I follow.  If it weren't for this guy, I'd tell you the pendulum is swinging the other way for now.

Thursday, February 28, 2013

Tolerance of Hate

I learned something rather disturbing the other day.  Sometimes I wish I would never take my head out of the sand.

I'm a fan of science fiction, among other things.  Last year, I read Ender's Game for the first time. I loved it, I can't tell you how much I loved it.  I hear that there is a movie in the works.  I'm usually disappointed by movies based on the books that I love, but I don't care.  I wanted to see it anyways.

That's not what was disturbing.

Last week I came across an article about the writer of Ender's Game, Orson Scott Card.  DC Comics has asked Card to write for their newest Superman series, Adventures of Superman. Great! Right? No, actually it's not, and a lot of people are pretty upset.

You see, the disturbing thing is that Orson Scott Card is a raging homophobic.  Look, opinions are like assholes, everyone has one.  I have my opinions, I don't expect everyone else to agree with me.  I know I'm right, but that's not the point.  Despite my attempts at tolerance, I know that I am incapable of not thinking about this little tidbit of information anytime I think about this great book.  The book is now tainted.  I probably won't want to go see the movie, I probably won't pick up the book again, I probably won't recommend it to anyone. (Fortunately I didn't actually pay for the book, so I haven't yet supported him financially.)
The dark secret of homosexual society—the one that dares not speak its name—is how many homosexuals first entered into that world through a disturbing seduction or rape or molestation or abuse. (Homosexual ‘Marriage’ and Civilization”, 2004)
Card's views on homosexuality are egregiously distorted. 
The argument by the hypocrites of homosexuality that homosexual tendencies are genetically ingrained in some individuals is almost laughably irrelevant. We are all genetically predisposed toward some sin or another; we are all expected to control those genetic predispositions when it is possible. ("The Hypocrites of Homosexuality", 1990)
His idea that homosexuality is caused by some early trauma is idiotic. His idea that acting on homosexual impulses is akin to an immature child's need for instant gratification is offensive.  There is no room in Card's world view for the idea that a man could form a happy, loving, healthy relationship with another man, or the same for a woman.  In his article, "Homosexual 'Marriage' and Civilization", he explains how allowing homosexuals to marry actually destroys real marriage for real couples, because, allowing homosexuals to marry changes the very definition of the word "marriage".  He hangs a lantern on his writing as hate speech in an attempt to defend it.  But, in fact, it is just that, hate speech.

I am not in the habit of posting about my political or social views, that's not what this blog was intended to be about.  Almost everything that I have posted about I have had to keep secret from those in my "real" life.  What is ironic is that my life, my inability to "control [my] genetic predispositions" gives credit to Card's views.  So, in addition to the cheating and the lying, I also get to enjoy the guilt of epitomizing the man that Card is speaking out against.

In my public life, I am a straight man (bisexual man to a precious few) that fully and whole-heartedly supports such novel ideas of equal rights for everyone, the right for people to marry whomever they want to marry, the right for all boys to gain the benefits of being a Boy Scout, the right of children to grow up in a safe environment free from bullying.

I realize that I am beginning to ramble on, so I will stop now.  I just, I guess I want to say that I try to be as open-minded as possible, even to those whose beliefs directly contradict my own.  Perhaps I am not as tolerant as I thought.

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

What's the title of this post?

I've enjoyed reliving my experiences of the last [almost] two years, of crossing the line.  Writing for Bi Like Me was a lot of fun, and I enjoyed reaching a new audience.  My first thought when I learned that BLM was moving on was that I'd just post my normal Friday post on my own blog.  I know, novel idea right?  Thing is, it feels a little odd rewriting experiences here that I have already written about.  Take that away, and considering my current dry spell, what the hell do I write about?

I could get into fiction.  I love writing x-rated stories.  Only problem is that I have to be in the mood, and not having regular trysts is not doing much for my libido. I'd post what I've already written, but that's too risky.  You see, my wife has read those.  It would be too much to explain if she ever came across them on this blog.  So I need new stories, and new inspiration.

I could write about other things important in my life.  Certainly there are more things interesting going on than just sex, right?  Yeah, maybe I'll turn this space into a political action blog.  Maybe I'll start writing about the trials and tribulations of the family dog.  Maybe. 

I started this blog as a way to express a part of my life that I couldn't express to anyone in my life, as all of you who have been a part of this from the beginning, and those who have read my recent posts on BLM, already know.  I have other modes of expression for the other parts of my life.  Odd thing is, those other modes, I've actually neglected them more so than this blog.  Maybe it's time to bring it all together, but anonymously.  I'm sure that this is not my first post where I lamented on what to post, but there it is.  Maybe this is my way of dealing with writer's block.

The hardest part about writing a post is figuring out what the hell to put as the title, go figure.  At least I always include some pics of hot and hunky men.  There will always be that. :)

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

So long, and thanks for all the fish!

This morning I mourn the loss of another blogger brother, Bi Like Me.  When his blog was unceremoniously taken down last week, I feared the worse.  I know it is tough to start over, and had a feeling that he would not want to go through that pain again.  So I was not surprised when he emailed me to tell me that he was done.

I was surprised when his blog was up and running a short while after.  I had not heard of blogs being resurrected once they were removed by Blogger.  But still, BLM had made his decision to bring an end to his blog, and I respect that.  Although I am choosing to look at this as "See you later", hopefully it's "See you soon!", rather than "Goodbye."

I have enjoyed following Bi Like Me over the last couple of years.  His blog was, and still is, one of the big dogs in my blogging world.  BLM is a staple in my daily routine.  Much of what he has described about his life, his desires, and his disappointments, mirrors my life.  When I got the opportunity to write for BLM, I jumped at it.  Writing for him has resurrected, somewhat, the efforts on my own blog.

His latest post, his Epitaph, only reaffirmed why I have been such a loyal follower.  I recognize similar situations in my own life in what he has written.  Similarities in how his feelings towards Ross began and changed.  Similarities in his relationship with his wife.  Please join me in wishing him luck, love and success in his life.  And let's all hope that he decides to return one day.

Thursday, January 31, 2013

Another First

I had another first during my last romp with M.  I started to write about it in my last past, Gay Men Everywhere.  He wanted me to play out a fantasy.  I was to sneak in, while he was "sleeping", tie him up, and aggressively have my way.  I psych'd myself up for this on the drive over, even though this would push me way out of character.  I was set to follow through.  I even practiced what I might say, what dirty talk I might use.

When I arrived, I walked through the front door with out knocking.  Step one, complete.  I was a little worried that his roommate might have come home, but fortunately he didn't.  The place was quiet, and dark. I walked silently to his room.  I was greeted with Mazzy Star music, several lit candles, and an otherwise dark room.  The scene was set for passion, not for aggression and force.  I saw him "sleeping" under the covers on his bed.  Screw the plan, I thought, and barely got my shoes off as I climbed up on him.

I like passion better than aggression.  I like kissing and licking better than talking or grunting.  I'd rather lose myself in the act, than be thinking about what my next line is.  I was happy that he didn't try to get me back into character.  What followed was good, sweaty, passionate fun.  I only wish there were a graceful, sexy way to get your pants off.  I should have done that before I climbed onto the bed.

I sucked on him first, and for a long while.  He doesn't come quickly, so I had no worries about cutting our fun short.  He sucked on me for a long while.  Still, by far, the best blowjob around.  Seriously, I need him to teach me his tricks, and his endurance.

He wanted to slide his cock between my ass cheeks.  So I lied faced down on the bed and he lied down on top of me.  I loved the feel of his weight on me.

Now, on the drive over, I figured that we would naturally evolve into me fucking him.  It was something that I wanted to do, that he wanted me to do, and that went with the "fantasy" well.  I even stopped to buy condoms along the way.  When he wanted to rub his cock along my ass crack, I didn't think anything of it.  We've done that before, no problem.  Remember how I said I like to "lose myself" during sex?  Well, I think that is why I didn't mind when he started to take it a little further than just rubbing his cock along my crack.  (I did have the presence of mind to have him put on a condom.)

He first tried to penetrate me while I was lying face down on the bed.  Then he had me flip onto my back, and move to the edge of the bed so that he could try to fuck me while he was standing up.  I expected pain, but I didn't feel  pain.  I guess that drunken night with my wife and a dildo did a little more than I thought.  I only felt pressure.  I couldn't say whether it felt good, or not.  By this point the haze had lifted and I was too much in my head over the whole experience.  But I didn't hate it.

He didn't get a rhythm going, though, so I can't say that I got the full experience.  He was dealing with an injury that was causing him discomfort, and he lost his erection.  We moved back onto the bed, and took a breath.  Then I went back down on his cock.  I said before that he doesn't come quickly, and that's the truth.  It took everything I had, every ounce of endurance I had, but I ultimately got him to blast his cum all over my face.  It didn't take me more than a moment to jack myself to orgasm right after him.

So, another first for me.  Certainly something that I'd be willing to try again.  As I said, I didn't hate it, but I don't think I fully understand what all the fuss is about.  But next time, if either of us are topping, it's going to be me.

If you haven't done so already, check out my posts over at Bi Like Me.

Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Show Your Support, Do It Now!

Tell the Boy Scouts you support their lifting the ban on homosexuals.

You can also send a personal email to the Boy Scouts: Sample message (keep it short): "Dear Boy Scouts of America, I think everyone should have the chance to take part in Scouting. I support an end to the ban on gay scouts and scout leaders. Sincerely..."

Post stolen from Joe.My.God and Just A Jeep Guy

Sunday, January 13, 2013

Gay Men Everywhere

I had the chance to have a little fun the other day.  Actually, a lot of fun, and its been awhile since this kind of opportunity has come around. I made plans to leave work early and meet up with M at his house.  He had the day off. He wanted me to act out a fantasy, you know the one, where he leaves the front door unlocked.  He's "napping" and I sneak in and tie him up before he has the chance to escape, then I get to have my way.

I'm a masculine guy, I'm a big guy.  But I'm not a forceful guy.  And I tend to be more, um, passionate than vocal.  So, I was a bit nervous.  I was nervous I was about to make a complete and utter fool of myself.

Anyways, I'll get back to that.  It was the day leading up to this that I really wanted to write about.  I planned on leaving work early. While at the office, another coworker showed up.  We all spend a good deal of time outside the office, so him showing up was not something I expected.  Technically, I am his boss, his manager.  But saying that he is my employee or my subordinate just feels weird.  So, he's my coworker, or colleague.  He shows up unexpected, and I'm expected to spend some time with him going over a few things. I'm sitting with him in the conference room, and I'm wondering about how long this is going to take because I have a guy in a bed waiting for me.

This co-worker just happens to be gay.  He's out and has a husband.  He doesn't know about my closeted side.  Or, maybe he does, and he's just too polite to tell me. The whole time we're sitting in the conference room, I have this urge to tell him about the dick I am going to go suck.  I want to tell him because he of all people would appreciate it, and because we could bond over it.  Then I imagine him sucking off his husband, and I quickly have to wrap up the meeting and get out of there.

I wasn't going directly to M's house.  I had to make a stop along the way at my previous place of employment.  There's not much left of that company, with current market conditions at all.  But they do have some material that my current company may want to buy. I stop by and go to see an old friend who used to be a co-worker.  Yes, co-worker in the same sense that I used to be his boss.  We're catching up on what's new in our lives, when another old employee of that company walks in the door.  This guy also just happens to be gay.  I do not know if he is out, or if he is partnered.  I only know that he is gay because a year or so ago he was brave enough to put his actual picture on Grindr, and I saw it.  He doesn't know about me, because I am not that brave.  We're chatting, the three of us, and again I have this urge to pull him aside and brag about the dick I am about to go suck.  Perhaps, I may even tell him about some of the other things I plan on doing. Again, I quickly have to make my way out of there.

You know how when someone mentions a red car, you suddenly notice red cars everywhere?  On this day, pretty much the only thing on my mind was the homosexual adventure I had planned for myself.  Why, on that day would I run into the few people I know that are gay.  Reality check, on any other day, the fact that these guys were gay would not have even crossed my mind.  But on that day, it was essentially all I could think about.

When I arrive at M's house, the door was unlocked.  I did "sneak" into his bedroom.  It was dark, he had soft music playing, and there were candles lit.  I knew the fantasy I was supposed to play.  But, I gotta say, the scene he set didn't really fit.  So I just did my own thing, which was quickly strip off my clothes and jump on top of him.  Maybe I'll write more about that in another post, I definitely enjoyed myself.  It was until a couple of hours later when we were cleaning up did I notice that he had left scarfs on the door knob, for me to use to tie him up.

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

Happy New Year!

I'm not one to make New Year's resolutions.  I'm a realist, and for me resolutions are short lived.  It takes a certain amount of dedication and resolve to make lasting changes.  I'm not saying that I am incapable of change, I just have to go about it differently.

Jack Scott recently wrote about the increasing pace of time, and the importance of taking the time to notice the small things. Time does seem to speed up as I get older.  Can you believe that it is actually 2013?!  I remember looking at my calendar when I was in third grade, figuring out that I was going to graduate High School in 1994, and thinking that was several lifetimes away!  I used to get angry at the ever increasing pace of time, angry that I wasn't afforded the time to enjoy life the way I wanted.  But I realized something recently, that it's my own fault.

David Allen says that "If you're appropriately engaged w/your life, you don't need more time. If you're not, more time won't help."  The fact is that I spend more time watching a show on T.V. then I do on that project I've been trying to finish for years now.  It's not time's fault I haven't finished the project, it's mine.  If you're appropriately engaged with your life, you don't need more time.  Spend the time figuring out what you want, figuring out how to get what you want, and actually doing that. That's the key to living a fulfilled life.  That's how to avoid regrets in the later years of life.

Is that what I do?  Lets just say that my life is a constant work in progress.  That might be why on this particular New Year's Day, I am spending a little more time than normal thinking about the changes I want to make.  My life has gone through a surprising amount of changes over the last year (or so); new job, new home, new addition to my family.  Most of these changes were for the better, all of these changes have taught me that I need to grab life by the balls.  No more excuses, only action!

Happy New Years everyone!  I hope 2013 proves to be a great year for all of you as much as I am determined to make it for me.