[SIZE=3][FONT=verdana]I can't fully articulate what it was like to fuck him for the first time. The next day was filled with us talking about the events of the night before - and with the wife and kids gone for the day - repeating those events since, uh, it's hard to talk about being in love and that first sexual moment without dicks getting hard and being in need of getting soft again... and it was just as magnificent as it had been not eight hours before. After getting each other off, we just kinda sat there, staring and even laughing over things. I couldn't seem to get enough of looking into his eyes - they were so pretty - and after a seriously deep kiss, he had a question:[/FONT] [FONT=verdana]"Are you going to fuck me?"[/FONT] [FONT=verdana]I am still amazed at how I answered him: "Do you want me to?" Yes, I know - kinda silly because I knew that it had to happen, that just sucking each other's brains out wasn't going to "officially consummate" our newly found love for each other and even as I asked such a silly question, I could feel my cock starting to harden even though I had just filled his mouth with cum.[/FONT] [FONT=verdana]"I think you have do so, yes - I just don't want you to - I need you too," he said, his eyes once more brimming with unshed tears.[/FONT] [FONT=verdana]"Come on, then," I said, standing up and taking him by the hand and leading him to the bed he was sleeping in (since circumstances demanded he live with us - but I'll explain that some other time). We got fully undressed and I fell onto him, kissing him deeply and letting my mouth and tongue explore the whole of his body; I loved the way he clung to me, the way he moaned, the way his body was responding to my exploration... and I was only mildly surprised to find him very erect again and I took him once more into my mouth - and brought the full power of my lust to the party to make him cum again.[/FONT] [FONT=verdana]I was now on full autopilot, a predator about to dispatch the "helpless" prey lying before me; I stared into his eyes - those pretty green eyes - and I could see the anticipation and even some fear as I got between his legs, lifted them, and positioned my hardness against the opening of his ass... and pushed. As I pushed into him, that part of my mind that always pays attention to things noted that, um, I didn't even think about getting something to lube us both up with and even as this very important omission hit my mind, I was fully into him already and I do remember thinking that I had never ever, shoved my cock into a guy's ass with such ease - or very many pussies, for that matter.[/FONT] [FONT=verdana]He gasped; I gasped and looked into his eyes for any signs of distress - and there was no sign of him being in great pain at all.[/FONT] [FONT=verdana]"My god... you feel so good in me," he whispered. "Fuck me, please fuck me..."[/FONT] [FONT=verdana]I leaned forward and locked my lips onto his... and fucked him. His legs were wrapped around me, his body was feverishly hot and trembling and he was clinging to me like no one had ever clung to me before. At one point, he let go of me so I could reposition myself and we both looked down to where our bodies were joined - and it was electric and made us both gasp. He was "mayonnaise pale" and the contrast of our skins was startling; it wasn't like I'd never seen my cock buried inside someone before and someone who was white... but this, this was so very different and for reasons I can't being to explain.[/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]I watched him sucking my dick, marveled at how flushed his face was, the intensity being displayed upon his face; I saw the love he had for me and, yes, saw the tears streaming down his face once more. Lord knows how many people had sucked my dick and in the many ways they'd done it... but none of those times came close to the first time this man sucked my dick. He was holding back and I reached down, wiped a tear away and said to him, "Just go with it - follow your heart and let things take care of themselves." He moaned a response and began sucking me in earnest and I had to admit that he was, in fact, sucking my cock better than my wife - who was an expert at sucking me. I stopped thinking and just laid there, giving myself over to the moment, fucking gently into his mouth, relishing the feel of his still trembling hand fondling my nuts and I came and it was so intense a feeling. I was dimly aware of the way he moaned when he felt my cock expand in his mouth, kinda heard the sound increase as I shot into his mouth, felt his tears on my skin as he gently but urgently sucked the sperm out of me and, again, like no one had ever done before. When he finally released me and sat up, he smiled at me and I kissed him again, tasting my own spunk on his lips and tongue, feeling the feverish heat of his body as we embraced each other and I thought, "This shit is insane - I'm in love with another guy!" I didn't want to leave him; I wanted to just lay there with him, but I couldn't; I now needed to have a conversation with my wife about what just happened and I did - and the fact that she knew before I did that he was in love with me and that she thought that - and the fact that we'd just finished blowing each other - was "cute." She also said, "Just go with it." So I did. After we talked, my wife and I made love and, strangely, it was one of the best moments of having sex with each other ever.[/SIZE][/FONT]
[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]I released him (even though I didn't want to); I stared into his very green eyes, leaned forward, and kissed him deeply - and shocking the shit out of myself. I'd kissed guys before and learned, as many women do, that some guys are just lousy kissers... but that first kiss was tender, vulnerable, everything one would ever want in a kiss and I didn't want to stop kissing him... but I did and said, "Does that answer your question?" Between his release and because caught up in the emotions of the moment, all he could do was nod, tears streaming down his face and in that moment, I confirmed that I was very much in love with him. I wiped the tears from his face gently and said, "It's okay - it's gonna be okay..." and he said two things. The first was, "I know that now..." and the second was, "I have to taste you." I stood up long enough to step out of my pants and underwear, freeing the erection that was making its presence painfully known; I was looking at him as if this was the first time I'd ever laid eyes on him so I saw the look on his face when his eyes travelled down to my erection; I saw his pupils dilate, saw his lips part and I just knew, without knowing how I knew, that his reaction wasn't just one borne out of lust. I laid down beside him, gently and tenderly pulled his head to me and kissed him again; I could feel his whole body trembling and when he reached down to fondle me, I felt... giddy to feel how much his hand was shaking. The kiss broke and he sat up - then leaned over me - and took me into his mouth... and the moan that escaped from him still sends chills through me just remembering how it sounded. He gave the head of my dick a kiss, then a lick... then swallowed me whole until I could feel his kinda pointy nose pressing into my pubic bone. Then he started to suck me with a purpose and I could tell he was fighting with himself to both "rush" into this while taking his time to make sure we both were really going to enjoy this.[/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=verdana]In my life, I've had a lot of sex with both men and women. Discovering sex with men was... exciting. Scary. Kinda confusing in the face of being told that boys don't have sex with boys and how evil and nasty it was - then finding out that it really isn't. Between the ages of 9 and 16, I probably sucked more dick and got fucked than most women have in the entirety of their lives. But what continues to stand out in my mind was being in love with an effeminate gay man and how being in love with him put sex with men in a very different light for me. If you had seen him, there wasn't anything really remarkable about him other than his bright red hair, green eyes, and freckles. An observant person could literally take one look at him and tell that he was both gay and effeminate but not overly demonstrative or flashy - he was just being who he was. Smart, great sense of humor and possessed of a depth of passion for life that, unless you knew him, you'd never be aware of. A bit of an introvert but he didn't care what other people had to say about him but a man with a deep and great need to love and be loved which, really, wasn't all that different from any other guy you might run across. Sex with him was... amazing. Eye-opening. Educational. Sometimes maddeningly frustrating. The night we sat down and talked about his feelings for me - and after some subterfuge on his part prior to this - was shocking even for me; having a man tell you that he's very much in love with you is one hell of a wakeup call but when we got to the part of the conversation about what should be done, for me, the answer was pretty easy. I exposed his cock - and it was absolutely beautiful and coming from someone who had seen so many dicks that I was no longer impressed by them but as I freed it from his underwear, I instantly acknowledged that his cock was... perfect. I went down on him because it was the only possible answer since it didn't take me long to recognize and accept that I did, in fact, love him, too. It was magic; tender; highly erotic to have him in my mouth, savoring the taste and feel of him, listening to him moaning and not in that "I'm having my dick sucked" way but, at the same time, disturbing because he was also crying; later, I realized that it was because he was more than happy to have confessed his love and it didn't get rejected. As I sucked him, I also realized that I'd never felt so... alive before doing something I'd done to so many other men. This was different and I knew it even if I didn't yet understand how and why it was different. When he came in my mouth, ah, it was so sweet and there was a lot of it to sample and to feel and hear him caught up in his release warmed my heart in ways I really didn't think was possible.[/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]The therapist's reaction to my sharing this with him was precious; he laughed for a whole five minutes before he was able to congratulate me for being able to explain it better than he'd ever heard anyone explain it, especially the part where I had told her that when I had the need to suck a dick, she doesn't have one. "There is that," he had said - and still working hard not to start laughing again. The biggest thing I took away from that whole experience was asking him if he thought I was really all fucked up in the head and in great denial about it. "No, I don't think so," he had said. "You've... had some experiences and the kind that a lot of people won't admit to and, yes, tends to - how did you put it? - get them all fucked up in the head. But I don't see that in you and, frankly, I'm impressed at how comfortable you are in your own skin about things." And I am comfortable... because to be uncomfortable about it doesn't make any sense to me, that and if I weren't comfortable, I'd probably really and truly be all fucked up in the head so for me, the choices were simple: Be comfortable with it all... or be all fucked up in the head about it... and being comfortable just works better. I can't change any of it and I wouldn't if I could and while I could be like other people I knew of with similar histories, I was - and continue to be - very determined not to let all my rule breaking fuck with my head; I'm not gonna start hating on myself or life itself over something I learned was, in fact, pretty normal if not highly immoral since I'm not the only person who ever lived to experience such an introduction to sex. It can destroy a lot of people... and it didn't destroy me or otherwise make me crazy in that sense. I am what I am; I've done what I've done and, yep, some of it was pretty spectacular and as I've often thought and felt, embarrasses the shit out of me... but I still can't change it - I can only accept that it was what it was and continues to be what it is. I am a well-adjusted bisexual male and I think I still have the paperwork that says I am... but I knew that already.[/SIZE][/FONT]
[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]That I was well-adjusted despite my sexual history was something I felt I already knew but it did make me feel... good? - to have that confirmed. Indeed, being able to understand just how serious my surgery was and the risks involved gave me a whole new perspective on things especially the part where my surgeon came right out and said there was a chance I could die on the table or I could still have life changing complication despite a successful operation. Three days after my release from the hospital, I'd been sitting and thinking about the therapist asking me what my wife - and girlfriend - thought about my being bisexual. My wife, a bisexual herself, thought it was "cute," while our girlfriend didn't share that assessment of things. I remember sitting down with her and telling her about my bisexuality and it led to one of the most incredulous conversations I've ever had about being bi. She had asked me, "Why do you like sucking dick?" I answered her question with one of my own: "Why do [B]you[/B] like to do that?" "Because I like doing it," she said indignantly. "You just answered your own question," I pointed out and thinking the conversation was over... but it wasn't. She then launched into a diatribe about it being a thing of me not liking the way she - or my wife - sucked my dick... and all I could do was roll my eyes. "Honey, this isn't about not liking how either of you suck me; this is about me liking to suck dicks! You're assuming - and incorrectly so - that I get into this because you two ain't doing it right and you've completely missed what I said about me doing this damned near all of my life - and way before I met either of you." "But guys have fucked you," she said. "Yes, and chances are I've been fucked more than either of you have been," I said. "I've probably sucked more dick than both of you as well... but none of that has anything to do with my love for both of you or the fact that I totally enjoy having sex with both of you. Having said that, I like - no, I love - sucking dick; it makes me feel really good to do it. Sure, a lot of guys have sucked my dick but that's just part of the whole deal; doesn't ever mean I don't like the way you or any other woman does or has done it - it just means I really like having my dick sucked and I'm not particular about who sucks it - man, woman, both - makes no difference to me." And then she said, famously, "I don't understand it..."[/SIZE][/FONT]
[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]"Sometimes I think I would... but reality for me sets in and I realize that I can't change what has already happened and it's kinda silly to wish I could but, no - if I could go back and do it all over again, I probably wouldn't change any of it." "Why is that?" he asked. "Because I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be who I am right now," I replied. "And I like who - and what - I am and I really am okay with how I got to be the way I am. Above and beyond anything else, it's still 'just sex' in a manner of speaking and there's nothing about sex that scares me, now that I understand things the way I've come to understand them." "Did you hate the man who had sex with you?" he asked. "No, I didn't," I said. "Yeah, I understood how... shady it was but from my perspective, he did me a favor since I'm kinda/sorta sure I would have eventually stumbled upon this way to have sex at some point. Hell, I even thought that if I could speak to him - he died a long time ago now - I'd probably shake his hand and thank him for allowing me to see how things really are. Pretty weird, huh?" "It's unusual in my experience," he said. "But I understand it; you seem to have figured out - a long time ago - that there was no point in crying over it or otherwise being upset by any of it so the only thing to do was to go with it and see where it all went... does that sound about right?" "Close enough," I admitted and, frankly, I was impressed that he figured out how I figured it out for myself. "Excellent. Okay - we're done here and I hope your surgery goes well and you can get on about living your life free of the pain!" Two weeks later, I went under the knife - got my throat cut - and, as promised by the surgeon, when I woke up, the debilitating pain was gone and so was the equally debilitating depression. I had six to eight weeks of healing to do and with that hard collar I came to despise with a passion... but I also had six to eight weeks of not being able to do much other than go the bathroom to think about my time in therapy.[/SIZE][/FONT]
[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]We got to more current events and I got an eye-brow raise out of him talking about my open marriage and the live-in girlfriend my wife and I shared as well as raising two kids our girlfriend brought to the relationship - he was writing copious notes during this part of the discussion. Then he said, "Okay, thanks - let's backtrack just a bit; how does being bisexual make you feel?" What an odd question but I answered it by saying, "Whole. Complete. It's not a big deal." "I should think not, given how long you've been having sex in this way," he said. "So, here comes the biggest question." "Oh, here we go...," I said, trying to inject a bit of humor. "Why are you here?" he asked. "Um, because the surgeon said he wanted me to come here," I answered, confused by his question. "He said I'm depressed and he wasn't going to fix my neck with my head messed up and, speaking of which, that antidepressant is really doing a number on me; sometimes I find myself staring blankly with nothing really going on inside my head." "You can stop taking it," he said,making yet another note. "Despite everything you've told me, you seem to be quite well-adjusted and I have to admit that I find you a bit unusual in this context; given your sexual history, a lot of people present with various levels of emotional trauma being exposed to sex at such a young age... yet, you don't present with any of those issues." "I've had a long time to put things into perspective," I said with a shrug. "It's just sex, just another way to express myself both physically and even emotionally and while there are rules about that, I understand the rules are, well, nothing more than well-meant bullshit." "Interesting," he said - and in that way I'd come to be annoyed. "Still, I don't quite understand why you're here." "Did you miss the part where I said the surgeon said I had to be here?" I asked. "No," he said, laughing. "I was under the impression that he thought your depression was being caused by something other than the medical issue but, well, I don't see any signs of that. You've had an... interesting way of life; you're comfortable with things that would normally unnerve a great many people... so this is what I'm going to do. I'll send the surgeon my final report and clear you for having the surgery you obviously need." "Thanks," I said. "I know that once he fixes my neck, all of this is going to go away although, um, I'm not thrilled about him cutting my throat." He laughed again and I laughed with him. "You've got a good sense of humor about it." "It's either that or freak out over it," I said with a shrug. "Does your sexuality give you any real problems?" he asked. "Like what?" I asked. "Do you ever feel... guilty? As if you've been going about having sex in a wrong way?" he asked. "No, not really," I said. "I know what I was told about sex and I've since learned that what I was told wasn't the real deal, not the whole story. I had to pretty much learn this on my own, through trial and error, doing a lot of reading, talking to those I could talk to and, of course, having sex." "If you could change any of it, would you?" he asked. [/SIZE][/FONT]
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