As a member of the middle aged, happily married crowd, sometimes life can still get predictable and even a little stale. The same dinners, the same conversations, the same sex...
Not that I'm not going to knock or refuse it, but from time to time a little something different seems like it might be just what the doctor ordered.
My wife and I have been married for almost twenty years and there's nothing that would make me betray our relationship or her trust in me, except in a fantasy or a very clear and fond memory from my past. I personally don't feel that having a favored fantasy or remembering past experiences while masturbating is anything remotely close to being unfaithful.
We have discussed some of our past experiences, sometimes in great detail, and it can be fun to share those with each other as a kind of foreplay occasionally. I have been totally open with any questions she's asked about my past sexual experiences and believe she has too, except she won't give the gory details I so crave. I find it super hot to hear about what she was into and what got her off before we were together. I am far more voyeuristic than she and I dare say the one of us that was way more wild.
One of my absolute favorite encounters I had over twenty years ago is still in the front of my mind and has provided me with hours of pleasure and frustration, all at the same time. I'd like to share that one in particular with you.
I moved around the country for work while I was single during my late twenties and early thirties. This provided some excellent opportunities to play with various partners of every persuasion, and I did. I was respectful and discreet with peoples lives and expected the same. I tried to avoid married people altogether. While I or my partner may be ok with something, their partner may not be, and I didn't want to cause a divorce or have to contend with someone who could let jealously get the better of them.
In early 2003 I landed in a small southern city of about forty-five thousand people, where I had family. My work kept me busy and I wasn't close to them so I didn't have to worry about crossing paths very often. I'd been on the west coast in the Bay Area and had lots of dirty fun there that I wasn't quite ready to give up just yet. There were lots of crazy fun country girls to play with and a few well endowed guys that weren't afraid to explore their sexuality as well.
Meeting women to fuck was no problem. Waitresses, cashiers at the corner convenience store, the occasional friend of a coworker, many situations and opportunities arose regularly and I took advantage of all that I could. Being bisexual in the south can be difficult and even dangerous at times. Someone might have proclivities that don't jive with their self created image and they haven't mastered their emotions or their ability to express their desires without being inundated with guilt that turns into outwardly hostile behavior later on. So I handled any male encounters with kid gloves, to put it lightly.
After a few months of hetero encounters, I had desires I needed to deal with and decided to try the "800 Chat Line" route to get some relief. You know the type... "Say your name and what you're into after the beep." and then you could scroll through listing and ads with your phone keys and leave messages for other people. Fun way to spend an evening alone sometimes. Lots of hilarious stuff folks would record looking for a partner to have some fun with!
I was honest about myself and my expectations. "30 year old white male, bisexual with an oral fixation. Discreet and clean guys with big cocks will move to the front of the line. No married men and no thugs. Reciprocation isn't necessary"
