Divorce and Grateful

Chapter 1

I'm sure there are some people who were expecting and ready for their spouse to say, "I want a divorce." But somehow, it really threw me for a loop. I was getting ready to head out and pick up my wife from the airport and waiting for her call. That's when the "it" came.

"Don't come to pick me up," she started. I hadn't even had time to say hello. "I'm going to stay with my sister."

"Uh... Hi... What?" was all I could muster in reply. And that's when she lowered the boom.

"I want a divorce. So, I'm going to stay with my sister until you can move out. My sis will be over to pick up Jenny and our things." She paused for a moment. "You have until the end of the month."

I was shaken, shaken to my core. As most people do, we had some small (I thought) issues that we were working on. Then she goes off to visit her friend on the East Coast and all of a sudden, we're getting divorced.

I was able to move out in less than a week, into a friend's place. It was a temporary fix, but it worked. Maybe I should have fought, and I did try to talk her out of it, but I figured that if she was just going through a phase the best course would be to acquiesce to her desires.

Fast forward a couple months and the divorce papers arrived awaiting my signature. No amount of protest would sway her to relenting. I was crushed. I had no desire to do anything. I fell into a deep dark abyss, contemplating many things. My friends all had my back, though. Without them I'd be homeless or in a gutter bleeding out somewhere. It was six months before I finally started to feel like living again.

When I finally decided to awaken myself to life, I still had no desire to pursue anyone or anything. I was still employed, somehow, and was just starting to finish my daily tasks with any sort of consistency. A group of co-workers invited me out to celebrate something or other. I agreed. What happened that night awakened me to a life much more thrilling than the one I had been mourning over for the last six months.

***

Ok, so here's where I freed myself from doubt. Amanda was this amazingly hot lesbian that flirted with me so openly I thought she was actually hitting on me. This outing was her idea, mostly. She and her wife, Heather, had thought it'd be good to spread my wings. And of course chose to invite a man we suspected, but didn't know for sure if he was gay. And, as I'd confided to Amanda, someone that I'd possibly be interested in. Yes, Amanda and I had talked about the possibility of me trying the "dark side," and this was her way of giving me a light, yet forceful, shove.

Honestly, I love women, but I'd been hurt. For some reason, I felt hurt enough that I didn't want to get too intimate with another woman. Part of that was finding Amanda to be exceptionally sexy and being disappointed I was not at all her type. It got me thinking back to my pre-married days, where I'd thought long and hard about... Actually, I really did fantasize about being with a guy. And getting married hadn't stopped those fantasies, but getting divorced certainly did lead to me considering it as a viable option. The truth is, ever since those fateful words from my ex, I pretty much gave up and decided I would follow through and try it: having sex with a man. But enough about me, let's talk about Devon.

Devon was a coworker that I hadn't really gotten to hang out with, as he was fairly new to the company. He was about my height, fit, and had an agreeable personality. He wasn't obviously gay. I would definitely describe him as being an enlightened metrosexual: he had style, he was clean cut, he was artistic. But, unlike most gay men I'd known, at least the ones I knew were gay, he didn't have that feminine flair, that campy lisp, nor that melodramatic flamboyance. We got along fine at work, so it was nice to spend some leisure time together. Here was my chance to be with a man who liked men and acted like a manly, masculine heterosexual.

"Three. Two. One..."

I was still waiting for the command to drink. Jaeger bombs: a great way to start on a hangover. What was I doing?

"CHUG!" Amanda finally yelled.

We all dropped the shot and chugged. I was far too out of practice to be first, but it all would hit me just the same. Still chugging away, Devon poked me in the ribs, eliciting a spewage of alcohol from my lips.

"Alcohol abuse!" they all chimed in almost in unison.

Yeah, my first night out in six months and I'm being abused and coerced into drinking profusely. And now this.

"You gotta do a shot, man," I heard Heather call from behind. "That's the penalty for not finishing the bomb."

The whole situation was foolish, preposterous, and downright fun.

"Tequila!!!" Devon shouted.

The four of us at the local college bar pounding drinks like alcohol was about to be outlawed, we were a scene. I was already two shots and a Jaeger bomb deep before Devon forced me to spit out most of my second. Somewhere after the next round, or two or three, I blatantly asked Devon if he was gay. He unabashedly replied that he was, and my drunken, lustful selfishness fantasized of what he might look like naked... I wasn't at all inhibited by my Catholic upbringing, thanks to the alcohol and, maybe, just a little bit, due to the joint I'd shared with Amanda before we got to the bar. It led to a boutt of footsie and fondling under the cover of the bar. He kept a good poker face, but mine must have been like watching a gay porno play out.

"Just take it easy," I told myself. "No sense in rushing things."

Drink after drink, the night sped on. It wasn't long before I made a fool of myself in public: I actually started seriously hitting on Devon. I'm not certain if he thought I was just fooling around, but we did actually kiss right there at the bar, open lips and tongue. Everyone whooped and hollered, thinking Devon and I a couple. And I honestly hoped we would be, at least for this night.

I don't remember how it was decided, but Heather shoved me into Devon's car.

The second we were in his car, I leaned in and kissed him. He kissed back, even better. And it was an amazing kiss. I could feel the blood rushing to my cock: I fucking wanted him, and I wanted to fuck him. Well, I wanted him to fuck me. I was just divorced and was horny to try a man's forceful touch for the first time. He had merely joked about getting in my pants, but I'd already had a few drinks and was ready to take the plunge. And let's be completely honest here: I knew I was curious, what didn't know is if he'd do it. God be praised, by sunrise, I was... Well, we'll get to that bit later.

Anyway, my hand rested on his jeans around a growing bulge. I worked his zipper down and, with great difficulty, maneuvered his gorgeous member out of his pants. I saw his eyes close and decided to take the plunge. My lips wrapped around his thickness, the taste musky and very masculine as my tongue explored.

"Whoa! Take it easy. Let's get home first," Devon whispered. I sat back reluctantly. His cologne was intoxicating. I could feel my heart pounding in my ears, was breathing heavy.

"Get a room, you two!" Amanda chided, though her voice was huskier than normal. I could feel the blood rush to my cheeks. Did she just get an eyeful of this horny straight guy sucking his first dick? I hurriedly threw my jacket over Devon's exposed manhood.

"Give 'em space, love," Heather joked. "It's the boy's first time. Don't you remember your first foray into real lovemaking?"

"Yeah, but I love getting an eyeful of men getting it on," she replied.

Devon turned on the car and rolled our windows down.

"I want all the details," Amanda commanded. She looked at me, then, and winked. "That goes for both of you."

We waved good-bye as Devon eased off. I couldn't concentrate on anything. Anything except my desire to touch Devon's cock. I kept finding myself staring: at his eyes, his lips, his crotch. I even removed my jacket and began stroking his reawakened erection. It felt a year getting to his place, thought the clock showed that only ten minutes had passed.

"Damn, Vic, you're cute as fuck. You look even cuter when you're blushing," he beamed my direction. "You randy cockwhore," he added.

He parked in his spot. I unbuckled and leaned over to kiss him. I didn't hold back, and neither did he. Our tongues explored each other's mouth. Surprising myself, I noticed my cock was rock hard and straining to break through my jeans. How far along was his excitement? I reached down with both hands grabbing his exposed shaft and undoing his belt buckle. I stroked him as though his cock were mine. His pleasure was evident in his moaning. I concentrated my efforts on that place, just below the head...

He pushed me off his lips, thrusting his jeans down his legs. His gorgeous manhood sprang free and bounced. One, two bounces and I noticed my mouth was wide as my head moved to latch on. My lips closed around his head, my tongue reaching to massage the new invader. His musk drove me insane. I wanted him, wanted all of him. I forced my mouth down, his shaft barely in my mouth before I started gagging. Easing my mouth off him, I decided to give him a tongue bath. I licked up and down every inch of his cock. Every once in a while he'd grab his cock at the base and smack my face and I felt so dirty, so hot, so gay. I found his hairy balls and suckled on them.

"We should really get inside," he breathed. I didn't want to stop, but I was in a rather uncomfortable position. We quickly exited his vehicle, him completely naked from the waist down, cock still free and rock hard. I decided I really wanted to go all out.

"Devon," I said. He turned. I lifted my shirt off, baring my upper half. He playfully whistled, but I wasn't done. I grabbed my own belt buckle in an aggressive stance. I tore the belt off. Then, I slowly turned about, shimmying my pants down. I even bent over giving Devon a look at what I was offering him tonight. I stepped gingerly out of my pants, then stood up, wearing nothing but a pair of shoes. So it was that I successfully walked the apartment building completely naked. It was almost 2 a.m., so unfortunately there was no one there to witness my drunken debauchery. I felt like being an exhibitionist.

I stopped him at his door, grabbing him for another kiss. This time his hands found my naked ass cheeks and spread them. A felt a finger graze past my horny virgin hole and I shivered. I heard a door open down the hallway, and I felt his finger slip ever so slightly past my outer ring. Then, his door was miraculously open and we were through into his apartment. I pushed him onto the sofa and got back down to business. I worked his cock over with my tongue, hoping to lubricate it enough to feel him inside me. Again he pushed me back, but this time, he gently rolled me onto my back on his carpeted living room floor. He lifted my knees to my chest and bent down. I thought he was going to return the oral favor to my own raging cock, but instead his aim was lower. I felt him nuzzle my cock and balls, working his way down my taint with his moistened tongue. I felt him spread his saliva around, searching for my virgin hole. His actions merely increased my lust. I wanted him in me, and I didn't want to wait. He had other ideas, however, and to this day I'm extremely grateful.

I have no idea how long it took him, nor how many times he pulled out completely to add lubrication, but he took his time. He started with his godlike tongue, both opening and lubing my hole. Then he moved to a finger, slowly inserted while his lips caressed my balls. Then there were two fingers, and a bit of discomfort as my hole stretched, then three. I thought he'd never get his dick inside me. He was making me an impatient slut.

At last, with such a gentle touch, he placed his cock head at my virgin anus. He pressed slowly.

"Just relax," he whispered furtively. "Let it happen."

My breath was ragged, panting. "I'll let it happen...," I started. His first nudge into me stung deliciously. He continued applying pressure, gradually forcing his way into my hungry rectum. I pushed out as best I could. I could sense his lust mirror my own. Finally, I felt his hips rest against my upturned cheeks, his pubes tickling my sensitive taint. "I'll let it happen," I breathed, "just so long as you fuck me."

I could see the desire written on his face.

"Don't you worry," he replied breathily. "I'll get to the fucking soon enough."

Such a gentle pressure began stirring in my core, an urgent need. I looked him in the eye and he looked hungrily back. We both wanted this, both needed this. He eased out then back in. His movements forceful yet gentle, lusting yet loving. He moved deliberately, never too aggressive. I found that I could move slightly with him, forcing my ass to raise higher, and with each entrance, I yearned for more depth.

He grunted with each thrust. I watched a bead of sweat build up on his forehead then slowly drip down his face. My body burned with lust and desire. I wanted it all.

"Don't hold back. I want it," I forced out.

He built up momentum. He pushed hard into my gaping asshole. Each thrust brought my own rigid cock to flop up and down on my stomach. I felt an unexpected pressure build slowly, almost imperceptible. His cock was rubbing against something deep inside me, something so personal, so intimate. His thrusts became urgent, his face determined.

"Are you okay with..." he started before I interrupted.

"Just fuck me!"

His thrusts were my enjoyment. His retreat my desperate longing. How long we rutted on his floor, I have no idea. I could tell he was almost there. I could tell he was just about to...

"Oh! Fuck! Aaahh." he let out.

I felt something, though I can't be sure I didn't just imagine the feeling of his cock spewing cum into my intestines. The image in my mind was so vivid and intoxicating. Once his orgasm was over, he reached out and barely touched my aching erection. I came nearly the same instant, glazing my chest with my own cum.

"And I didn't think you could look any sexier," he remarked, easing his softening member from my stretched hole.

I watched him from my place on the floor, relaxing into a more comfortable position. His glutes were firm and round. I wanted to spread his cheeks and taste his essence. "Oh, boy," I thought. This is going to turn into more than a one night thing.