If you'd said I'd be having an affair a year ago, even six months, I wouldn't have believed you.
If you'd said I'd be having sex with men, I'd have laughed it off and started blushing.
If you'd said I'd be a cock-hungry man slut, you'd have got your block knocked off.
But here I am, having the time of my life and I literally can't get enough.
I broke the seal in a mad, passionate moment of lust and now I'm on the lookout almost night and day. Sex with women was great, but there is nothing, and I mean nothing, to beat the feeling of a rock-solid behemoth of a cock riding your tight ass. I've had nights I'll never forget, orgasms to whip into submission the pathetic versions I've had before, sent out massive, never before seen surges of spunk and revelled in the rebirth of a sex life which was dying of neglect.
I've had urges on and off throughout my adult life, but repressed them even though I often had dreams of torrid man sex.
My life turned around on a work trip. I had to go away on a four-day course with a colleague, Paul, well known to be gay, but not an in-your-face guy who presented his sexuality on a plate for all to see. Quite a decent guy all in all, and someone I'd got on OK with on the few occasions we'd been at the same event.
He had been an occasional visitor to my dreams, though I mostly thought of an older lover, a friend of the family, who had come out a few years before.