It had been 5 months since I had dropped "the bomb" on my wife of 18 years. As 15 year old sophomores in high school, my girlfriend Vicki and I had started messing around. We pretty well ruined our young lives when Vicki turned up pregnant. Both Vicki's parents and mine were insistent that we keep the baby and do the only honorable thing... get married.
Vicki's parents had a pretty large house, so we were allowed to move in with them to start our young marriage, and prepare to our child. Somehow, we did it right, and both were able to finish high school and college, with a lot of help from our parents in raising our son Tyler. Also along the way, we had a baby girl, Kristin.
After getting my degree in Marketing, I was hired by a marketing firm in Tulsa for my first real job. I was a 22 year old father of a 7 year old son and a 5 year old daughter. During my early career, I loved what I was doing and it showed. I was also rewarded with promotions and nice salary increases. And with those promotions, we upped our standard of living, from a two bedroom apartment to a three bedroom townhouse, then a 3 bedroom starter home, and finally to a large 4 bedroom home with all the amenities.
I was a young man with big dreams and a big appetite. But, something always seemed to be missing.
But, back to "the bomb".....
I am now 33 years old with two teenagers, a mortgage, and an unfulfilled personal life. It was on a Saturday morning that I asked Vicki to set down and talk about a very important issue.
We sat at the kitchen table while I recounted our lives together. When I talked about the hole in my sole, Vicki understood and, in fact, told me she felt much the same. By our careless actions 18 years earlier, we had deprived ourselves of the normal growing up process. We had missed out on proms, senior trips, fraternity and sorority memberships, and "sowing our wild oats".
With her in an agreeable frame of mind, I addressed the very difficult point that led to this discussion. "Vicki, I want a divorce."
I expected shock, and tears, and anger, but none of that came. She sat and absorbed my pronouncement like she almost expected it. After several seconds of silence, her one word reply to me was "Why?"
"Well, after months and months of trying to determine why I had this overwhelming emptiness, I've finally concluded its cause. Vicki, I'm gay."
Silence....
"I never got to go through the learning and experimental stages of a typical teenager. It's not your fault. I've been loyal to you from the very beginning. And that's why I want to divorce. I don't want to be disloyal to you; to our marriage. But, I need to be honest with you. Our sex life has been decent, but not great. I can't even put into words the hollowness of our sexual relationship. But, because I respect you and I respect the institution of marriage, I would never cheat on you with another woman OR another man."
"I see.... And...?"
"I need to be freed of my marital commitment so I can become who I was meant to be."
The conversation went on for a few hours before we decided that we would end our marriage on cordial terms and both of us would be free to be ourselves. After all, we were both just 33 years old, in good shape physically, with a lot of years ahead of us.
We ultimately went through a friendly divorce and prepared to go our separate ways. After we told the kids everything, Tyler decided to come live with me, and Kristin would remain with her mother and finish high school. Tyler would be starting at the local university in just a few weeks.
All in all, I was pleased and relieved that Vicki took our divorce so well. I had a hunch that she had some unmet needs that she wanted to explore as well.
She kept the house, and I bought a nice three bedroom ranch with a pool at the edge of town. Tyler would live with me rather than on campus in order to save money.
After moving to our new home, I laid out the house rules to Tyler. After my own teen experiences, my house rules were VERY liberal. Tyler was quite appreciative of that fact.
Once settled in, I immersed myself in both my work, and in my "coming out". After 18 years of uninspired missionary fucking with my now ex-wife, I was like a kid in a candy store. I ceased every opportunity imaginable to find cock. I started frequenting a local gay bar. I visited a local adult video arcade, and I ran frequent ads on Craigslist and other dating sites. Slowly, but surely, I developed a small number of regular fuck buddies. With my new lifestyle, I felt young, fresh, and invigorated. Every sex partner I enjoyed brought something different to the table. Ron was a total bottom cum slut. He could suck cock all day long, and the only thing he liked more than that was to have me fuck his hot tight ass. David was a skilled and masterful top. I loved getting down on all fours and letting him ravage my ass for as long as he could last. I also loved the feel of his thick 8" ramming in and out of my hungry mouth. I even met Tracy, a very passable CD who loved getting rammed barebacked. Tracy was also somewhat of an exhibitionist, and our games of seeing how far we could go publicly without getting caught, kept me hard and on my toes at all times. And there was Jeremy, a black stud former athlete whose favorite pastime was 69.
That chronic emptiness that I'd experienced for the past 18 years seemed to become a thing of the past.
I frequently brought my fuck buddies home, where we could play in the privacy of my bedroom. Tyler, of course, was totally aware of what was going on. After all, he had agreed to the house rules when deciding to live with me.
One Friday afternoon I was particularly horny. I called Jeremy, and as luck would have it, he had taken the day off to do some things around the house. When suggesting an afternoon get together, Jeremy was all too agreeable to putting his household chores on the back burner for an afternoon of cock.
I had put in a lot of extra hours on a marketing program that we'd just finished up, and I had a ton of comp time that I needed to burn. Therefore, I threw my laptop and some work papers into my briefcase and headed out the door.
I made it to Jeremy's house in record time, and found Jeremy standing out front waiting for my arrival. Jeremy is a beautiful, 28 year old African-American Adonis. Broad shoulders, thin waist, and powerful arms that I love having wrapped around me. Attracted by his good looks, I was equally attracted to the 9" of chocolate muscle that hung between his legs. We had met about three months ago through an ad he had placed on Craigslist. We had been regular lovers since then.
Dressed in a pair of tight Levis and a skin tight muscle shirt that accentuated his flawless torso, Jeremy quickly jumped into my SUV, leaned over and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. His taste was fresh and minty, and his cologne correctly suggested that he was all man. Before speeding off, I reached over and squeezed the bulge in his tight jeans. His excitement was already manifesting itself.
During the 15 minute drive to my house, we chit-chatted about normal guy stuff, and took turns fondling one another's groins. By the time I pulled in my driveway, we were both rock hard and aching for release.
