For a few days after I had fucked Tom, my wonderful 50 something friend, I was caught up in a whole range of thoughts and emotions.
Should I go ahead and let him fuck me too, or should I draw the line? If I let him would it mean that I really was gay and had been pretending to myself through my 3 years of marriage and before?
I continued to feel guilty about Lisa, my wife, but I kept remembering that Tom had enjoyed a limited amount of sex with men all through his marriage until his wife had died. As far as he could tell she did not know about it and he did not think it had harmed their relationship. I had also seen on the internet that many men identified themselves as bisexual. So perhaps that was what I was.
The strange thing was that I still did not really have any interest in other men apart from Tom. Ok so I had had an encounter with an old guy in a public toilet but that was just anonymous sex. I did feel differently about Tom. He fulfilled my childhood and teen dreams about an older man (in those days it was mainly my school teachers) and when we kissed and held each other it was something really special.
Eventually I realised that I could not go on thinking in this way and I needed to concentrate on work and on my marriage which I was still determined was what I wanted. Then a rather odd thing happened. I think I have mentioned before that I had started tucking my shirt in my briefs, something that I had done in my school days but that I had stopped as I got older. For some reason it made me horny and once I found that Tom thought the same I decided I wanted to enjoy those feelings again.
I thought I had managed to conceal this from Lisa but one day she came into the bedroom just as I was putting my trousers on. She said that she had noticed my waistband showing a few times.She wondered why I had suddenly started tucking my shirt in like that but she hadn't said anything about it. I said something about keeping some of my shirts neater and to my amazement she said that I should carry on doing it as she thought it looked rather sexy.
I couldn't believe it and didn't know what to say but simply told her that I had got to like it too so would carry on doing it. That night instead of taking my shirt off first I took my trousers off and walked around the bedroom in my shirt and briefs as I was sorting clothes out for the next day. The problem was that I could feel myself getting hard and I was about to finish undressing when Lisa said:
"Come on over here, sexy, let me have a look at those bulging briefs!"