Married men in their forties are very vulnerable to sexual temptations. Most have been having regular sex for over twenty years and the act itself takes on a different meaning to what it was earlier in life. Whereas it was once something precious to be guarded and only given to a select few, as they age so it becomes less important and not as special. In fact, to many it becomes a commodity, a process, an excitement almost trivial and something to be enjoyed not worried about and shared with just a mistress or wife. It's the buzz we're after not love or affection! And when that happens, we give it away easier, with less selectivity and hesitation, after all with love no longer a factor, merely lust, what's to stop us? Yes,what's to stop us experimenting being less choosy and being more gender fluid.
This is why there are more affairs amongst the middle-aged and why men over forty are prime candidates for one-night or one-afternoon stands. Of course, that's not all men, just most! And it's also why the age group 45 to 49 has the highest divorce rate amongst men. Coincidentally, that is also the age group where the largest number try same gender sex for the first time.
Whilst this is true of many men, not all of course actually do anything about it. Many suffer the pangs and agonies of sexual frustration brought about by their partners denying them the pleasures of their bodies. Why? Because the fun, the excitement, the adventure, the difference and the creativity have gone. So many women not only dry up but also give up.
After sleeping with the same woman for many years, when she pretty much permanently turns him down for no clear reason, he needs something new, something different and something to rekindle that sexual freshness. And if his partner doesn't provide that, then many will look elsewhere for as sure as night follows day there are loads of both genders out there who will.
We're all just one big happy sexual family really, aren't we?
*
I was 44 when I had my first excursion into testing my sexuality came about by chance.
I hurt my leg playing five-a-side football and was recommended to a sports therapist. We got on well on my first visit to his clinic at his home. On my second, when he was massaging the back of my upper leg, I felt myself starting to harden. That was mainly because on a few of the upward sweeps of his hand he went very near to my balls. Then horror of horrors as it was straightening and hardening, he told me to turn over. I hoped that my boxers or the tee shirt I was wearing would hide it, but that was illusory for the bulge was obvious.
Carl smiled and I said.
"Sorry about that," feeling so embarrassed.
"No need it happens now and then."
"Really?"
"Oh yes, magic hands you know."
"Yes they must be."
"They do other magic as well if you are interested."
I got his drift and muttered.
"I see," I said now feeling even more embarrassed and out of my depth.
"As extras of course," he went as he massaged the front of my leg, far softer than earlier.
"Of course," I replied adding as an afterthought. "How much."
"Just another twenty James."
"Ok," I croaked.
Then he did one of the most erotic things I can ever remember. As I lay on my back on his massage table, with him standing beside me, he took the waist band of my boxers in his hands and slowly rolled them down exposing my full hard on to his gaze.
"Mmmmm, very nice, we are enjoying ourselves aren't we?" he smiled running his fingertips along my length as I closed my eyes.
That felt good. It felt very similar to what the girls do in massage parlours before they take you to the happy ending. He poured some oil onto me and the sensation as it dribbled along my cock and onto my balls was fantastic. I gripped the side of the table as he started to rub my length with one hand and cradled my oil-soaked balls in the other. It didn't take long for me to be grunting and writhing with pleasure as he made me cum.
Obviously, I felt some guilt, but not much. Overall, I was amazed at just how similar I felt with a him masturbating me as I did with a her.
A week later I returned to him and we did the same thing. If anything, this time was even better, but I wanted more and different. I scoured the personal ads in newspapers and magazines and found a couple that offered male to male erotic massages. I made an appointment with one and went along.
There was no pretence at anything other than him getting my rocks off. I was naked when he massaged me and he stripped down to a jock strap. He did give me quite a nice straight massage for fifteen minutes or so, but with me lying on my front it slowly became more suggestive. On one upward sweep along my inner thigh, his hand didn't stop the inch or so from my balls that up to then it had. His touch was electric. I grunted and my body jerked. He knew I loved it and he exploited that as fully as I wanted him to. He stroked and squeezed my balls, ran his hands under me onto my blistering hard on, slid his fingers along the crease between my cheeks and pressed right on my anus. Kelly and several other women had been there before with both their tongues and fingers so it was not virgin territory. I was not too concerned, therefore when I felt his fingers slip inside me a little. Turning me over he started wanking me, but unlike the physio he did not use any oil. It didn't take long for me to blast off. In fact, I came so quickly that I didn't have a chance to take advantage of the clear invitation he was proffering by wearing just his jock strap.
I went back a few weeks later and had a repeat performance. This time I held on longer and this time I did reach for him and this time I did rub his big, semi-hard cock and this time, when he pushed himself forward, I licked his length, but I did not get him fully hard nor did he cum.
The next time I went back I really tried getting him fully erect, but to no avail.