Beginning the Journey: Part 5
There was always a nagging doubt in Charles' mind about his true sexuality. The recent experiences with men from various life and backgrounds should have convincing evidence that he was gay. However, two 'things' prevented Charles from openly admitting his gayness.
One of the 'things' holding him back was known, defined, real, and that was his family's attitude to countervailing sexuality. Admitting gayness meant disappointing kith and kin. Charles had not yet found an acceptable solution to that problem. However, this issue was not uppermost in his mind. Rather, he sought to determine what the second 'thing' was.
The moment of reveal and understanding came obliquely by way of Charles' childhood idol and occasional lover, Michael. Concerned that Charles sexual experimentation might leak and lead back to him, Michael suggested to Charles that he grow a beard to as to "allay" any suspicions of his sexuality. The beard was considered a sign of peak manliness, exemplifying such virtues as wisdom, strength, sexual prowess and high social status. Charles was dubious but gave it a shot.
One night, after Charles swallowed Michael's second load -- the first was deep in his arse -- the latter offered the former an unusual proposal.
"The beard is a great improvement," Said Michael, "But there is a way to guarantee no-one will ever discover your true sexuality."
"Oh, and what would that be?" Asked Charles, taking a swig of water to offset the saltiness of Michael's seed.
"A marriage of convenience," Replied Michael confidently.
"A what?"
"It's simple," Began Michael, rattling off the particulars like it was a sales pitch, "People that come here on holiday visas, working visas etc., love this land so much that they want to stay permanently. The problem is that the immigration law doesn't permit it unless that person is married to citizens. These people are willing to pay large sums of money to someone that will 'act' as a husband or wife for a time. A legal marriage comes with a marriage visa permitting the holder to live and work here until they are eligible to become citizens in their own right."
"Is this legal?" Interjected a sceptical Charles.
"It's a grey area of law," Replied Michael airily, "The married couple are subject to periodic checks by Immigration, so they have to ensure they project all the trappings of a bona fide marriage."
"Including having sex?"
"That part's optional," Chuckled Michael, "To the world at large, if you enter one of these sham marriages, everyone will assume you are straight, and you'll have a tax-free money thrown your way."
"How much money are we talking about?" Asked Charles.
"The desperate will pay anything, but the going rate is five to ten."
"Thousand?"
"Yes."
"Fuck!" Exclaimed Charles.
Not that he needed the money as he had a successful career, but that's a sizeable chunk of coin that would feather the nest. However, the burden of keeping house with a woman for three years would curtail Charles' sexual endeavours.
"As long as you keep the act up," Said Michael, anticipating Charles, "You can chase as much cock as you like, discreetly."
Michael, whose public profile had exploded recently, became a 'captain of industry' with a glamorous wife and all the trapping of wealth and celebrity status. He was keen to protect his reputation and could not afford a scandal. Muckrakers and paparazzi might stumble across Michael in a car receiving a blowjob from his friend, and all hell would break loose.
Charles thought his bum chum was paranoid, rightly pointed out that the risk would be eliminated if Michael stopped asking for his sexual services
"I am gay, though," Explained Michael, "My celebrity life is all for a show, a sham, but I enjoy it and do not want or intend to give it up."
Given Michael's meteoric rise to fame, the two saw less of each other, which freed up Charles to experiment with other men in different scenarios. However, the circle open to gay men was small, and word got around and had gotten back to Michael. In any case, Charles was a comparative nobody and given Michael's profile, he felt sure there were closet gay men all over the place, so why bother with him? It was a question that Michael refused to answer. He simply called Charles when there was an itch to scratch, and Charles dutifully performed.
"Have you fucked your sham wife?" Charles asked.
"On occasion, why?"
"What was it like?"
"I wore an eye mask so I couldn't see what she was doing. She made me cum, I guess, so there's that."
Michael seemed entirely unimpressed with the encounter, and Charles did not press for more detail. The thought of sex with a woman had never entered Charles' head, let alone envision such an encounter.
"So, back to the topic at hand," Said Charles, "If I was to agree to such a proposal, do you have someone in mind?"
"Not yet; I wanted to know if you're interested."
"Let's say I am, depending upon my future sham wife."
"A friend of mine who works for my company, we went to school together, although I doubt you knew him, runs this operation," Whispered Michael conspiratorially, "I'll reach out to him."
"How big is this sham marriage market?" Asked Charles.
"We have more visa holders than we have willing spouses."
"When will I get the money?"
"As soon as the marriage certificate has been registered," Replied Michael, "You show my mate the registration, and he hands over the cash, less a modest finder's fee."
"Off course," Laughed Charles, "Okay, tell your man I'm willing to meet."
Charles was keen to be off as hard cock in his pants needed attention. The two bum chums kissed each other goodbye, and Charles scurried off home for some self-love.
A few weeks passed before Charles received a message from Michael to meet his friend Rudy at the Irish Pub in town at 8 PM and be punctual.
He arrived at the appointed time, grabbed a drink and a table. A certain level of anticipation flowed through Charles as he scanned the pub, looking for Rudy with whom Michael did not describe.
Suddenly, a heavyset, swarthy man slammed a drink onto the table, startling Charles. The man before him looked so powerful that one punch would smash the flimsy table they sat together.
"I'm Rudy, and you are Charles," Growled the man.
Charles nodded and noted that Rudy held in his giant paw of a hand a plain brown A4 envelope.
"Take a look!"
Charles nervously took the envelope and took out the contents. What greeted him was a parody of a James Bond file. There was a photo of a woman paperclipped to the upper right-hand corner of what looked to be a dossier.
