My name is Dan Jeffries. I'm forty-six years old, a computer systems analyst working for a large accounting firm in downtown Chicago, although I make my home in the suburb of LaGrange. I've been married to my wife Grace, a paralegal, for ten years. Grace has a nineteen year old daughter named Janie from her first marriage who I love as if she were my own child. We also have a beautiful eight year old daughter named Lauren, who is my little angel.
I have known I was bisexual since I was in my late teens, but before the events in this story all I'd ever experienced with other men were fantasies. At the depth of my being, I had a certain amount of shame that just kept me from acting on my desires. My one outlet was writing erotic stories. Over the years I've written dozens of stories that involved me being with other men and exploring my many fantasies of gay and bi sex and submission. I am lucky, though, because Grace is completely understanding and even more than a little turned on by my attraction to men. We have always talked openly about it, and I even share my stories with her, which has contributed to our fantastic sex life. Other than that, my other sexual needs were fed only by fantasy.
That all changed one Tuesday evening when Janie called to tell us she was coming home from school to visit for the weekend. Grace was working late that night, so she asked me if it would be alright for her to bring a friend with her.
"Of course," I answered. "Why wouldn't it?"
"Well, it's a guy, but he's just a friend."
"How many times have I heard that before?" I chuckled.
"No really, Dan, he's gay," she protested.
That stopped me in my tracks. "Is he?" I asked.
"Yea. His name's Mark. He's kind of a militant for rights on campus. He leads a couple of student groups, not just for gay rights, but for a bunch of other causes, as well."
"Well, that's admirable," I said, feeling hot all of the sudden.
"He's a great guy and he's been a really good friend to me this year. Can he come?"
"Sure," I said, finally letting go of the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. "I don't mind and I'm sure your mother won't, either."
She thanked me repeatedly, told me she loved me, and said that she'd see us all on Friday.
That night as Grace and I got ready for bed, I informed her about our houseguest. Noticing the bulge in my boxers, she teased that I must be turned on by the thought of having a gay man in the house. She pointed out the potential even if we both knew that I wouldn't act on it. We had our usual amazing sex as we talked about a scenario that was closer to real than usual.
Janie and her guest arrived on Friday night just before dinnertime. As he stepped through the doorway and into our living room, I was struck by how good looking he was. He was tall with short dark brown hair and milky white skin. He was well built, though not overly so.
"Mark," said Janie, motioning to each of us as she introduced us, "this is my mom, my sister Lauren, and my stepdad Dan. Everybody, this is Mark Ross."
"Nice to meet you," he said as he shook hands with each of us. "Thanks so much for letting Janie bring me home. The dorm gets old after awhile, and I live too far away to get home except between semesters."
"Mark's from Colorado," Janie explained.
"Well, dinner's just about ready," Grace said. "Why don't you guys put your bags down and come into the kitchen?"
I had been really quiet throughout all of this. I hoped Mark didn't think I was weird. But having a real living, breathing gay man in my house was really turning me on. I stood with my hands covering my crotch as we walked into the kitchen, trying to hide my growing erection. As we sat down at the table, Lauren was excitedly talking with Janie and Mark about the Harry Potter books, which they all read. As I watched them talk all I could think about was the fact that he was gay. I started picturing him having sex with another man. I quickly snapped myself out of it. This was so inappropriate. My daughters were sitting at this table. This young man who had become the object of my lust was not only a guest in my home, but my stepdaughter's good friend. Not to mention the fact that I was old enough to be his father.
"How old are you, Mark?" I asked suddenly.
The girls looked up at me, puzzled, and I sheepishly realized I had inadvertently butted right into the middle of their conversation. Mark, however, smiled politely and answered me. "I just turned twenty."
I nodded distractedly. My daughters exchanged looks that seemed to say "He's finally lost it," but Mark fixed me with a quick penetrating stare, and then turned back to the Harry Potter conversation.
"I hope you don't mind sleeping in Janie's bedroom, Mark," Grace said a few minutes later. "We don't have a guest room. Janie can sleep with Lauren in her room for the weekend."
