My biggest challenge that week was going to be keeping my pecker in my pants and keeping my lust for men in check, that is, if I wanted to stay married.
I had already committed a marital sin that would be a deal breaker for most marriages. My wife found me fucking my ass with her dildo. And it wasn't a little purse number. It was a huge, pink, exquisitely detailed cast of a famous porn star's cock. I had it vibrating and gyrating at full power as I stroked it back and forth in my dilated asshole. I came, hands free, from prostate stimulation and the euphoria of imagining my ass being taken by a beautiful hunk of a man.
She didn't catch me in the dark of our basement or my man-cave, it was in our shared bed, with her right in front of me. We were supposed to be engaged in a passionate lovemaking session, first in over a year, since our sexual romance had fallen off a cliff. The only problem was I wasn't feeling turned on by my beautiful wife, so I imagined her with a big, thick cock, and balls; a beautiful transsexual who was going to let me suck her cock if I fucked her ass first. That got me going and I picked up her dildo from the bed and started caressing my ass crack with it which led to me plunging it into my ass until I shot my cum load onto her belly.
Now that would be very upsetting to any wife who believed that her husband was unquestionably straight. But it was an especially egregious act because she felt totally caught off guard and betrayed. I had never exhibited any sexual interest in men before that, in front of her that is. I am very masculine, and in a traditionally masculine occupation, firefighter. I've been told many times that I have a beautiful body. My wife, Delphina, is a very confident, powerful executive and a beautiful woman, with a gorgeous, sexy body. She had no reason to doubt herself before that incident with the dildo. My self inflicted anal assault certainly destroyed the pretense that we were the ideal couple.
I don't know what made me think I could get away with that, especially since I finished the scene by holding the faux cock up to my mouth as I pumped the fake cum into my throat and all over my face and chest, right in front of her, while I begged my imaginary male seducer to fuck my ass deep and fill me with his cum. I think that was a blow to her confidence and that was the thing she was most protective of. She had achieved a great deal in life based on her looks and her ability to convince others through her authoritative style.
I couldn't have been more busted, but at the time, I wasn't thinking about the consequences, just the pure, unadulterated pleasure. And boy was it pleasurable; probably the best orgasm I ever had up until then. Since then, we have had many heated conversations about what was going on with me. She determined, without any professional assistance, or my input, that what happened was a fluke, ass-play gone terribly wrong, but nothing to worry about. We still had a perfectly normal marriage as far as she, and the public, were concerned. I think she was more worried about her perceived role as an enticing Aphrodite, able to turn any man's head, and stiffen any man's cock. For reasons of self presrvation she was therefore willing to look the other way.
I, on the other hand, was pretty sure I was acting on my true, previously subverted sexuality. I had told myself I wasn't gay, or just that I was undoubtedly straight, for many years. I wouldn't entertain any other diagnosis out of a fear of being shunned, ridiculed, and ostracized, at work, with family, and with friends. But I had clues in my past that made me think I probably wasn't being true to myself. The biggest clue that I was interested in gay sex was my intense interest in gay porn. I couldn't get enough of it and I jerked off to guys fucking and sucking each other any time I could sneak and watch it on my phone. I had flirted with gay men occassionally and had been hit on by guys for years, but I never thought of myself as someone who would follow through with those feelings. For many years I had only gone as far as having phone sex with guys and hanging out in gay chat rooms, toward the actual fulfillment of my desires, but I had fantasized about it thousands of times.
Was my sexual sexual interest in men just a kink, like my wife wanted to believe, or was it a foundational quality of my character and was now becoming too powerful to resist? I knew I wanted to keep my suspicions about my sexuality to myself; I didn't need for my life to get any more complicated right now. That's why I was so looking forward to getting out of the house and out of town for a week to attend a firefighter convention in Indianapolis. I needed the time alone to clear my head.
I kissed my wife goodbye and headed to the airport. She basically ignored what happened a week ago and instead resorted to her "normal" marriage mode. "Don't give in to all those hot firefighter-groupie women when they come on to you," she said as I headed out.
"Don't worry, those ladies don't stand a chance with me," I promised.
When I arrived at my hotel, I checked in and headed toward the elevator banks. I had to pass through the lobby which was packed with mostly male firefighters, in town for the convention, loudly drinking and laughing as they overflowed from the adjacent bar. Guys were wearing their fire-related T-shirts and ball caps, sporting every imaginable symbol and slogan proudly declaring their masculine machismo and general badass-ness. Most importantly, they broadcast their receptiveness to the ladies, the women who were there to attract firefighters, the groupies my wife spoke of.
Very few of the women there were firefighters. There was a large contingent of young women-seeking-male-firefighter types, with two basic looks: long sun-highlighted hair, tight, micro-mini slip-dress and heels; and hair teased up, spandex stretch-pants pulled up the crack of their cute ass, and a tank top or some other bra-less top. Each woman was surrounded by about six guys all trying their best to be the one rewarded with the young ladies' attention. You could smell the testosterone from the curb. I pushed through the pulsing crowd.
"Hey Darren, glad you could make it," came a voice from behind me. It was my friend Joe. He strolled up beside me. Joe was from a fire department other than mine but we were fast friends through mutual training and group meetings. We hung out together after meetings and training sessions, shared workout tips, and generally really enjoyed each other's company. He was someone that I possibly considered talking to about what I was going through with Delphina because I suspected he might be gay. He had model-like good looks, a beautiful, muscular body, was super charming, and I had never seen him date or be in a relationship with anyone. If anyone was a closeted gay guy, he was, or so I thought. But I noticed over Joe's shoulder in the hotel lobby, two smiling, sexy young women waiting, not very patiently, for us to finish talking so he could get back to them. "Let's grab a drink after you get settled in," Joe said.
"Hey man, good to see you. Yeah, let's meet for a drink or dinner or something later. I'm going to throw my stuff in my room and go to the gym for a workout right now." I had no interest in joining the mass butt-sniffing event going on in the bar right then.
"Sounds good. I'll get the ladies warmed up for you to come in for the kill," he laughed as he lifted his drink glass in a symbolic toast and turned back toward the young ladies who were dying to get back to flirting with him. I was surprised to see Joe in that milieus, especially with the two little hotties hanging on his beautiful arms. Not surprised that sexy young ladies would be attracted to him, surprised that he would be attracted to them. I guessed my "gay-dar" needed calibration. And I decided I wouldn't be confiding in him about my sexual feelings.
I slid the key card through the lock and opened my hotel room door. I had sprung for an upgraded room on a higher floor. As I walked into the large suite, I was awed by the expansive view of the city and beyond through the floor-to-ceiling glass wall opposite the giant bed. The bathroom was huge, with a giant two-person bathtub and a freestanding glass walled shower in the middle of the bathroom. "Nice!" I thought. This will be perfect for isolating myself at night and getting my thoughts together.
I put some workout clothes on and headed down to the gym in the basement of the hotel. Luckily, the gym was well equipped with enough weights and machines to accommodate a good power workout. A few guys were in there getting in a pre-nightlife pump, but they cleared out pretty quickly.
