[Editor's note: this stories contains gay male scenes.]
This is the second story of a short series examining male sexuality.
As I have got older I have found the borders of sexuality becoming blurred, particularly as I seek more and different sexual kicks.
It's not essential to read Confusion first, but it might help.
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So life trundles on. I'm not gay that's for sure, but after my three massage experiences where I have been jacked off by a man, I am certainly now bisexual, well up to a point; perhaps I always have been, but have never before tried it. Maybe most of us might be, given the right opportunity!
My wife of nearly twenty years, Kelly and I have good sex and I find other stuff on the side when and where I can. We've always had a fairly open marriage, but have never actually discussed that or owned up to having other partners; some things are just best left unsaid in a marriage and the number of other people you have had sex with most certainly falls into that category.
I've had lots of bits on the side and I am pretty sure she's had a few and we have been swinging on a few occasions. Nothing particularly heavy, just dinner then partner swap, change round then go home to bed. We haven't, even though I have wanted to, been to an orgy or swinging party with numerous couples there and we have never got in with a regular group.
I have often said that I would like to see her with another guy and although this didn't seem to faze her we've so far not got round to it.
We have, though, got round to a threesome with a friend who Kel worked with. I, of course, loved it, but Kelly wasn't too keen. Not only did she find it 'difficult' having any form of sexual contact with the other girl, but when I fucked her friend or wasn't paying much attention to her, she felt left out and jealous. So we only did that a couple of times a few years ago. Shame, for what can be better than having sex with another bird with your wife's approval.
How it came up I can't remember. It was after we'd had some nice sex and we were in that mellow post orgasm state where sometimes you feel that you can talk about anything sexual. The inhibitions have gone and the barriers are down. It's often a time when couples can and do talk about their fantasies.
"You know I would love to see you with another guy?" I told her running the back of my fingers across her still hard nipple.
"Yes you have said that several times, but how could you see me? What would you do get in the wardrobe?" She laughed.
"Hmmm true, well I haven't though that out very much" I lamely admitted, feeling as I often do outwitted by my wife whose brain is so fast, it makes me feel old.
"Clearly," she said in the acerbic manner she has when scoring points off me.
We were quiet for a while until she said. "Of course there is a way you could."
"How?"
"Well a threesome of course."
"What me and another bloke have sex with you?"
"Well darling," she said running her white painted, square cut nails across my balls "That is generally what threesomes are about isn't it?"
We didn't talk about much more that night, but over the next couple of weeks I asked her several times if she meant it.
"Yes, but it would have to be with someone I fancy, like you did with Jan," she replied referring to the threesome we'd had with her work friend. I often wondered if the pair of them ever got up to anything, but thinking of Kel's reactions when Jan kissed her and caressed her breasts I doubted it, for Kel did rather clam up.
"Anyone in mind?" I asked rather ambitiously?
She gave me one of those withering looks that always puts me right in place. "I would have thought that's your job, darling."
I tried to think of someone, but it's not an easy proposition. I knew a few of my mates and quite a few guys at the golf club fancied her. That's not surprising for she's a hellishly attractive natural blonde. She's slim with nothing tits really, a B cup at best, but great nipples, fabulous legs and an incredible arse. However, I didn't feel able to broach the subject. I mean 'How would you like to have sex with my wife and me' is hardly locker room chat is it?
We were in Boston, Mass a few months later. It was late summer and it was hot. I was there on business and Kel had come along for she really likes the city, as indeed I do. We were staying at the Marriott on Copley Place. I do some consulting work for the company and get great rates that mean it's just not worth my while going for the more luxurious Four Season or other slightly more upscale hotels.
It was our third night. I had done most of my business and tomorrow was a rest day before we would fly down to New York, spend a night there and get the daytime BA flight to Heathrow; that almost makes jetlag redundant.
We'd had dinner at our favourite Boston restaurant, L'espalier on Boylston Street, and had had a pleasant few blocks walk back to the hotel. We'd toyed with getting a drink in a bar on the street, but had opted to go back to the hotel. We went to the very busy Champions Sports Bar on the first floor and I found a stool for Kel right at the bar. It was crowded, mainly with businessmen, but also a few couples and the sprinkling of pairs and groups of girls. There's always a nice atmosphere about Champions, even though it is something of a pick up joint, albeit an elegant and rather sophisticated one. Don't ask how I know that!
We were about half way through our first drink when my Blackberry started vibrating. I had an email from a potential client in Singapore with an attachment responding to a proposal I had submitted a few days ago. The mail asked for a reply today. Being thirteen hours ahead of Eastern Time they were already into their day. I explained that quickly to Kel.
"Look I'll have to pop to the room and look at this on my laptop and get a reply off."
"How long will that take?"
"Only fifteen minutes or so I guess, you coming?"
She gave me that quizzical, head inclined to the side look when I have said something wrong, in this case the double entendre.
"It's not When Harry Met Sally you know darling," she smiled "I'll stay here, but give me a call if you're going to be much longer."
I didn't realise until I was on way back down from the thirtieth floor that I'd been gone the best part of forty minutes.
"Sorry darling," I said pushing my way through the throng round the bar, which was much deeper than when I'd left.
"That's Ok James, Brad here has been, how should I put it?" She replied looking at a guy leaning on the bar his long legs stretched under her stool quite near to her ankles. He raised his eyebrows as she leaned towards him a little and said "Chatting me up I suppose we could say couldn't we?"
"Well trying, but I was warned. Hi you must be James," he said putting his hand out "I'm Brad Gilbert, pleased to meet you."
We shook hands. "I've been trying to do that for twenty years," I smiled back "She's very canny Brad. What can I get you to drink?"