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ACTS OF LOVE: A Guy's Journey From Straight to Bi

2/26/2003

I had gotten to know Dave over the web. Not through a dating
service or anything. We’re both bodybuilders – not competitive
bodybuilders, but pretty serious ironheads. I turned
47 my last birthday, and I look with my clothes off like a
25-year-old: lean, sleekly and heavily muscled, 215lbs
at 6’0”, but all of it hard, with a bodyfat percentage not
much above 9%. I’m proud of my body, I know I draws looks from
the girls, that my wife’s friends envy her, and I like how
even the young guys who train alongside me in the University
gym will drift by the station where I’m lifting and compliment
me sometimes. “You’re lookin’ huge, Jon. Fuckin’ jacked,
big bro.” Everyone has to have a hobby, I guess. I picked
a doozy.
<br>

Dave and I “met” on one of the bodybuilding discussion boards
where we would go every day to read up on the use of anabolics
and to post questions of our own. I’d developed a reputation
on the board as an older guy, a wise head, a voice of reason
urging my younger hotdog “bros” to keep everything safe
and under the speedlimit – short “cycles, ” long “off”
periods, no cutting drugs. Dave had noticed some of my posts,
and being an older guy himself (44), he emailed me, and we
developed a correspondence, first by email and IM, then
by phone, and finally by in-person meetings, whenever
he was on the East Coast for business and could spare some
time. We would usually spend a few hours in a gym somewhere,
then go to lunch, then go back to our business. The first
time I met Dave I was impressed by him physically – 6’4” at
235, a big guy – and found his face attractive and soulful.
I could tell he liked my physique as well, and that he was
intrigued by how my body looked even more youthful than
his.
<br>

It wasn’t long into our friendship that Dave told me he was
gay. I wasn’t surprised. When I would talk about my wife
or about one of my kids, he had no similar stories of his own
to give back. Never married and mid-40’s? I wasn’t surprised
by his news. Yeah, he’d dated and been with a lot of girls
until he was 30 or so, but he found eventually that, to be
true to himself, to really be authentic, he had to admit
that he is not straight, or even bi, but gay. We were beginning
to become friends by then, and his admission made no difference
to me. I’d had gay friends and lifting buddies before – there
is a strong homoerotic streak in the bodybuilding community,
who else would take such interest in the scantily clad male
form – and accepted them as “iron brothers” like any others.
I’ve always said that so long as a man stays safe and treats
his friends and family well, what he does out of my sight
is his own affair.
<br>

As I got to know Dave, I became aware of what a … Great Man he
is. We grew very close – we would “talk” by IM most every day,
would speak on the phone a couple of times a week, and would
see each other for a workout and lunch in Manhattan maybe
once every 3 months or so. Twice I visited him at his place
when I was in LA on business. I grew to care more and more about
him, and knew that he was growing to care about me. Sometimes,
he seemed to listen so closely to me, to understand me so
perfectly, even better than my wife at times because he’s
a man and an obsessive bodybuilder and has been through
the same things, that I would feel in return a welling up
of tender feelings for him that would almost break my heart,
they felt so young, tender and strange. I felt … “penetrated”
by him, if that makes any sense, like he’d looked right into
my heart, had been inside me somehow, his understanding
and empathy was that unique, personal, and perfect. And
so I knew that Dave was awakening something important in
my heart, and, gradually, the word “love” began to enter
our discourse.. Eventually, I would shyly append the words
“I love you” to my emails or IM notes to him, and when we phoned
or visited in person, it was with those words that we would
part. “I love you, bro.” Even “I love you very much.” We would
say those words to one another. All that felt normal, right
and pure to me. It felt wonderful, in fact, to feel love,
real love, for the first time, for a man in my life who was
not a blood relative. I began to think of myself as, not bisexual,
but “bi-amorous, ” able to love men and women both in a tender,
I guess romantic, way. I was intrigued by that discovery,
and it felt good to feel those feelings, like I’d opened
up with Dave some special, precious place in my heart, and
filled it with light, when it had all been dark and closed
before.
<br>

Over time, my feelings for Dave somehow morphed into feelings
of … yes … erotic love. Strange how that happened, it was
so under-the-surface, it just snuck up on me. I had a very
interesting, extremely frank, discussion with a friend
of mine one day, a psychotherapist and fellow ironhead,
when the subject of Dave, and my gathering feelings for
him, came up. Somehow, all bets were off, all the walls were
down. Never felt quite like that before. Anyway, I was telling
my friend about Dave, about how intense our relationship
had become, and how much we identify with one another. Then,
really before I knew what I was saying, I blurted out “I think
I’m falling in love with him, ” meaning falling in love
with Dave. I couldn’t believe I’d said it. The words just
tumbled out and seemed to sweep past me like a gust of wind
until they stood there before me, like blinking neon letters
in a movie marquis. No getting around it when a straight
man says of another man, “I think I’m falling in love with
him.” Nope, you gotta “process” that one. My friend asked
me how that felt, and I said it was really difficult for me
to handle, confusing as hell. I was completely mixed up
about it. I mean, there I was - a 47-year-old guy, married
for 20 years, with three little kids, a guy crazy about his
wife, who’s not gay, is not attracted to men, has never had
a homosexual relationship, and … “I think I’m falling in
love with him?” Say again? Okay… Uh…. “I think I’m falling
in love with him.” No no no!!! Unh-unh! That can’t be right,
can it? But, yeah, it really felt like it to me, that I was
falling in love, and I oughta know, I’ve fallen in love about
a million times. But it’s always been with girls, for Chrissakes!
C’mon, I don’t fall in love with guys! Man! I just couldn’t
wrap my head around this one. Here I am, a man, and I’m falling
in love with another man? Just like I would fall in love with
a woman? With the same complexities and dimensions to the
relationship? Can a straight man fall romantically in
love with another man? I couldn’t believe it, but there
were the words, they were out there, and I couldn’t put them
back in the bottle. “I think I’m falling in love with him.”
I think I’m falling in love with Dave. Oh man. Man oh man!

<br>

Well, look here now! This doesn’t add up right, so something
has to give. There are only three possibilities here:
<br>

First, could I think it possible that I really am gay, or
bisexual? Well, I can turn that one around in my head and
look it over, but I gotta tell you right away that it didn’t
ring true. Oh, sure, I “experimented” a little (a very little)
at whack-off sessions with other boys when I was a kid, and
I can get off to a gay sex fantasy or some gay porn, but I’m
not attracted to men. I see a male body pass by – even a real
buffed-up one, and being a bodybuilder I see plenty of those
– and it just doesn’t do anything for me. Nada. Bupkes. A
male body is just not an erotic object to me. I should know,
I’ve been seeing male and female bodies for 47 years, and
I’ve been erotically aware for almost 40 of those years,
and it’s never been a dude who did it for me. I could certainly
never fuck a guy. No way! Quite different story with chicks.
I see a good-looking girl pass by – even a plain one, to tell
you the truth – and I get a hint of anything erotic from her?
Bingo! I’ve got a tent in my pants and in my dirty little mind
I’ve got her clothes off already, I’ve got her spread and
penetrated with my dick in her pussy and I’m imagining what
it would be like to cum in her. Ten minutes later I’m whacking
off in the bathroom. And that’s just an involuntary thing
with me, automatic and, to be honest, quite pleasurable,
those imaginary ravishings of the women who pass through
my world. So, am I possibly bi? I really didn’t think so.
Maybe I was not being honest with myself here – with something
as ego-threatening as one’s sexual orientation, I can’t
pretend that I see this all clearly – but I oughta know something
about myself after 47 years, no? If I’m gay, or even bi, I
oughta feel something erotic for men, want to fuck them,
or be fucked by them, a variety of them, not just one, right?,
and I just don’t. I’m pretty sure I know that, that I’m as
straight as any guy I know.
<br>

Second, was it possible that I was not, in fact, falling
in love with Dave? Sure. That was quite possible. Listen,
I was pretty fucked up in the head right at that moment. First,
I’d been titrating my dose of testosterone and had been
on Clomid for the last three weeks – precisely the time in
which I’d felt my emotions about Dave welling up – so I could
think that a hormone imbalance was part of all this. I mean,
I was going around feeling like a fuckin’ chick half the
time, those emotions felt so hormonal and overwhelming.
Then, I’d been so lonely, and so tormented about some problems
in my marriage for so long, that I couldn’t see straight.
Plus, I’d been so isolated for so long, so damned cut off
from my peers as a gearhead/bodybuilder/academic, that
I was grasping at straws. But … I couldn’t get around the
fact that Dave was becoming awfully damned meaningful
to me. I thought about him all the time, everyday. I watched
for his IM messages and was downcast when none came in, I
felt jealousy – not the burning, consuming kind I used to
get when an old girlfriend of mine would step out on me, but
jealousy just the same - when I thought about him getting
it on with one of his boyfriends. And I felt – yeah – possessive
of him. Oh man. This really sucked, but, yeah, I felt possessive
of him, like a lover would, with the most tenuous hold on
him, and that tormented me. No, that’s too strong a word,
“tormented, ” but I thought about it a lot. So, I was not,
in fact, in love with Dave? God, I hoped not! But, I knew I
was.
<br>

Third, is it possible for a heterosexual man to fall romantically
in love with another man, gay or straight? Okay now, this
is the one, this is the one I was least able to parse, because
I had never had that thought - Is it possible for a heterosexual
man to fall romantically in love with another man? - in my
head before. It just never came up before I met Dave. Well,
let’s think it through: Can I love a man? Sure. I love my brother,
Keith. Love him a lot. Also, I love my own sons, males through
and through, with a fierce, fatherly affection. And, yes,
I love Dave, too, and a couple of other close friends too,
for that matter. So, yeah, I can “love” a man. If that’s true,
can I fall romantically in love? Sure. I’m romantically
in love with my wife, and have been romantically in love
with lots of girls, both before and since. Happens all the
time. See a nice curve and pretty face, talk a little, find
out a few things about a girl, and I’m in love, man. Boom!
Out on the tiles. Absolutely smitten. So, if I can love a
man, and can fall romantically in love with a woman, can
I fall romantically in love with a man? I mean, is that something
men do? I don’t know. Maybe they do, and they just don’t talk
about it. That would be something, wouldn’t it? If heterosexual
men – in the right circumstances, paired up with a guy who’s
just completely simpatico - really do fall romantically
in love with other men, gay or straight, from time to time,
but it’s just not spoken of, because it veers too close to
homosexual love, “the love that cannot be named?” That,
it seems to me, is certainly quite possible. Maybe that’s
just the deepest expression of friendship between guys,
just like marital love is the deepest expression of a bond
– one that often starts as a friendship – between a man and
a woman. Maybe straight men really do fall romantically
in love with one another, or with gay men, sometimes. Somehow,
that thought didn’t scare me (like the first question,
“Am I gay?” or disappoint me (like the second question,
“Am I not in love with Dave?”. It even seemed kind of beautiful,
and somehow pure. Like seeing something clearly for the
first time. Yep, I bet that’s true, that heterosexual men
can fall romantically in love with other men some times.
I think that’s what finally happened between Dave and me.
I fell in love with him. And he with me. Wow!
<br>

Okay. So, if heterosexual men can fall in love with one another,
where does sex come in? It sure comes into play between guys
and gals, so we gotta consider it here, too. You know. Intercourse.
Guys can do it with each other, or so I’d been told. After
I said to my friend “I think I’m falling in love with him, ”
he asked me, “Are you conscious of any sexual feelings about
Dave?” And do you know what I said? Hold on tight here. I said
“Yes, I am. I’ve been having a lot of sexual fantasies about
him.” Is that true? Yeah. It’s true. I’d had fantasies of
making love with him, of submitting to him and pleasing
him in bed. Now, I have to tell you that there have only been
two cases in my entire life when I could see myself in bed
with a guy. One is Dave, the other was almost 20 years ago,
my friend Randy. I never fantasized about him at the time
and by no means went around with this in my head at all, but
I’ll now admit to myself that, if Randy had wanted to fuck
me, I would have let him. By the way, nothing ever happened
between Randy and me, and that was just fine with me, it was
never an issue. And both of these cases arose only against
a background of a slow-welling love for the men involved,
a romantic feeling that had far more prominence than any
sexual fantasy. I never had any fantasies about Randy,
and only realized later that I’d been attracted to him,
though I think I knew that I was in love with him at the time
he was around, though I never thought through this whole
issue like I’m doing now. But Dave – well, he’s different.
I was aware that I was in love with him and the sex thing was
there, with him, in real time.
<br>

The question became: How to handle that with Dave? There
were several choices. One would be to just ignore the sexual
feelings, to continue to love him, and he me, to let the love
continue to grow between us, but to keep it “an affair of
the heart, ” not one of the body. There was something attractive
about that choice, to keep things chaste, and that was the
choice that I followed for awhile. But, gradually, and
only over a long time, the physical tension became too much
for me. Medieval scholars and philosophers wrote often
of the “sickness of love, ” how it could cause delirium,
wasting and even death, and while I was in no acute danger
of any of those, I was surely becoming lovesick about Dave.
I knew that one way to recover from the sickness of being
in love with him was to test my feelings against reality.
So once, after a workout in which I’d felt particularly
strong and beautiful, at lunch with him afterward at Alessandro’s
in Chelsea, I raised the subject with him. I don’t remember
exactly what I said, I was a huge bundle of nerves, it scared
the shit out of me to talk this way to another man, but somehow
I told him how much I loved him (he knew that much) and told
him I’d been wondering what it would be like to make love.
With him. Gulp! What it would be like to make love with him,
to have him “initiate me.” “Initiate you?” he asked. “Do
you mean – sex?” his eyes opaque and unreadable. I just gulped,
“Yeah, ” looking away, unable to meet his eyes. He began
to shake his head sadly. I’d hoped he would nod in assent,
but what he did was shake his head. “Jon, I have too much respect
for you and for your marriage, ” he explained. “I could
never do that. It wouldn’t be right. Besides, you don’t
know a few things about me as a lover.”
<br>

“Like what?” I asked, crestfallen.
<br>

Leaning back in his chair, he explained that he’s a “top”
(I’d never heard that term before), a man who only likes
the active, “masculine” role in sex with another man. He
likes to pair up with a “bottom, ” a man who takes the submissive
“feminine” role. He could do the “bottom” thing, but he
didn’t like it. Guys who went to bed with Dave would have
to get their rocks off by masturbating while he gave it to
them in the ass, or sometimes he would jack them off while
he butt-fucked them. Pretty frank conversation over a
plate of veal medallions! I had to think about that. I’d
never thought it through before, but I discovered as he
continued talking that that would be okay with me. I had
no interest in fucking him, or any other man, for that matter.
I don’t think of male bodies as fuckable objects, I wouldn’t
want to stick my dick up his ass. I had to admit that what I
wanted was for him to fuck me, not me fuck him – I wanted to
be penetrated physically by him, as I felt I had already
been penetrated psychicly - and if that was the way he preferred
it, too, then the signs were pointing in the right direction.
I could be the “bottom” to his “top, ” that would work. “And
that’s a problem for me, ” he continued, “because I have
a really big dick. Most guys can’t take it, no matter how
much we lube, they complain after we start, and then I lose
my erection and the whole thing’s a mess. It was that way
when I was with girls, too. It’s painful to have intercourse
with me, I practically prefer masturbation now, it’s so
much easier.” He looked at me directly and gave me the bottom
line. “I couldn’t get in between you and your wife, I wouldn’t
let you fuck me, and you couldn’t handle being fucked by
me. It would be a no-go, Jon.”
<br>

I thanked him for his candor, but I was very disappointed.
Somehow, the thought of him possessing a really magisterial
rod was exciting to me. Our visit for that month was over,
but we continued to talk every day, our relationship not
lessened an iota by our talk but, if anything, we seemed
closer and more trusting with one another. Weeks passed.
I sent Dave some new bodybuilding poses of me, taken after
I’d gotten particularly buffed up and, he was the first
to admit, I looked real hot in them. One day, as we spoke on
the phone, Dave brought up the conversation at Alessandro’s,
and asked if I still felt the same way. I told him I did. He
asked, a gathering tension in his voice, if I’d found anyone
to “initiate” me. I laughed, and told him I only felt that
way, that I wanted to be “initiated, ” because I loved only
him in that way – just him, no one else – so, no, of course I
hadn’t found someone else to do it. For me, this whole thing
about “initiation” into man-to-man sex had to do with making
love, not having sex. It all grew out of love, not lust. So,
if I were to fall in love with some other man as I’d fallen
in love with him … well, then maybe. But I didn’t see that
happening. I was in love with my wife, and fell in love occasionally
with a girl somewhere, but he was the only man I felt that
way about. It was okay, I could stay “uninitiated, ” no
problem.
<br>

There was a long silence on the phone. Then he said “Alright.
I’ve been thinking about this, and you know I’m attracted
to you, and feel a lot of love for you, too. Physical lovemaking
could take our relationship to another level. I guess I’m
excited about that.” After a long pause, “What do you think,
Jon?”
<br>

“I want you, ” I whispered, hope surging up in my heart.
<br>

That seemed to settle it. “Look, Jon. I’ll be in DC next week.
I have meetings Monday and Tuesday, but I can take the rest
of the week, too. Could you get down there for a couple of
days? We could take this thing slowly that way.”
<br>

“This thing?” I thought to myself, images of cocks spearing
the white round globes of asses, of strings of creamy jizz
splattering down into wide-open waiting mouths, flitted
through my mind. This thing. Take it slowly. I calculated
quickly. Sure. I could arrange to be in DC late Tuesday through
Friday. I could tell my wife that I had a meeting with the
feds, she wouldn’t know differently, and I could spend
the time with Dave. Going slow. With this “thing” “Sure,
Dave. I could meet you Tuesday night, after your meetings
end, and stay a few days. That work?”
<br>

“That would be perfect. We’ll take a room at the Doubletree
out on the Rockville Pike. Very private, pool, gym. It will
be perfect.”
<br>

A huge knot came up in my throat as I nodded and made noises
closing the conversation. Somehow, I had to get used to
the idea that I’d just agreed to meet a gorgeous creature,
someone I loved, but … a man! … for a lover’s tryst.
<br>

We spoke, as usual, daily for the next week, and the interlude
in Rockville only came up casually, in reference to things
like “You all set to get away for a few days?” “Remember to
bring your gearbag, I know where there’s a good iron gym, ”
that kind of thing. Sex, “initiation, ” was never mentioned.
<br>

When we finally met in Rockville, it was at the hotel. I felt
like a bride on her wedding night, shy and nervous as a filly,
when I dropped my bags in the room Dave had arranged for us,
then went out for a quick dinner with him. Physically, I
felt great, strong and lithe, I was moving like a panther.
And I was watching every move he made, every move I made in
return, and I was surprised, and pleased, that he had become
casually physical with me – reaching out to touch my hand
reassuringly; draping his arm across my back and pulling
me close as we walked; even kissing me on the lips when we
were in the elevator on the way back up to our room. The thing
that still had to be talked about, and I asked him about it
at dinner, was what to do with his … semen. Yeah. We had to
talk about cum. His cum, if he wants to put it in me. The cum
in his balls right that minute. We understood that I would
not be cumming in him, but as the “top” I supposed he would
be cumming in me, and was it … safe? Dave understood my concern
perfectly. “I’m quite healthy, if that’s what you mean.
It’s been over two years since I ‘gave it away’ [let someone
cum in him], I always wear latex when I’m with a man, and I
was just tested, in honor of your initiation, so … I’m safe, ”
he said. We talked about it some more, until I felt okay about
it. “Alright, ” I said. “Do you suppose we could do it without
rubbers, then?” “We call that ‘barebacking, ’” Dave said,
“Fucking without a condom. We could do it either way, your
choice. But it will be okay in this case.” I was not only relieved,
I was pleased. “What’s your pleasure?” He asked. I really
wanted to feel Dave dump his load in me, and would have felt
shorted somehow had I not been able to walk away with his
jizz flooding my hips later. “Let’s do it without, Dave.
I want to feel you inside me.”
<br>

With all this talk of sperm and butt-fucking and barebacking,
when we got back to the room, we were both hot, and I was nervously
anticipating the next few hours, secure in the knowledge
that I was with a man I loved and who would be gentle with me,
but apprehensive, too, about “how I would DO, ” if he would
find my body pleasurable. With that nagging anxiety, I
left Dave in the room, slowly disrobing, while I went into
the bathroom to get clean and “fresh” for him. I stripped,
then showered thoroughly, using warm water and a mild soap.
Then, I did something that seemed funny and outrageously
feminine: I reached into my overnight case and took out
the commercial douche I’d purchased a few days before,
anticipating this night. I poured out the ready-made solution
and replaced it with fresh warm water and a few drops of glycerin,
a solution I’d learned would thoroughly clean the anal
canal, but not irritate it. Then, squatting in the tub,
I inserted the nozzle of the douche bottle into my anus,
and squeezed, filling myself with the cleansing solution.
It was a funny feeling, like I was ready to burst. Somewhat
uncomfortable and embarrassed, I let the solution stay
in me for a minute or two, then relaxed my sphincter, and
let it run out. The water was clear and clean, odor-free.
Pleased, I repeated this process two more times, until
I was confident that my rectum was as clean and fresh as a
woman’s vagina, important since it would be put to the same
use in a few minutes. Then I did one more thing to prepare.
I took from my bag a 50cc syringe, one without a needle, pulled
the piston out, filled the barrel with K-Y jelly, put the
piston back in, and, with a dab of KY to lubricate it, put
the tip of the syringe just inside my anus, and, with a constant
pressure, pumped the 50cc of K-Y into my rectum. Now, not
only was I clean, but I was as lubricated as a woman. I put
the hotel’s thick terrycloth robe on my otherwise naked
body, and returned to the bedroom, confident that I was
ready to meet Dave sexually, in a lover’s union. I felt ready,
warm, and kind of “squishy” in my inward parts, wet and primed
for coitus with him.
<br>

Dave was stretched out on the bed, also naked but wrapped
in a robe, and as I climbed onto the bed beside him he reached
out, taking my face in his hands, and leading my mouth to
his. We kissed, long and langorously. My robe fell open,
and I reached down and filched his open as well, so I could
see for myself, at last, the cock he’d warned me about. He
hadn’t been lying. He was huge!, 9 inches long at least and
as thick as the handle of a baseball bat. I couldn’t imagine
taking him into me, and my heart quailed. But he gently urged
my head down, to where my mouth brushed against his circumcised
manhood, and he sprang even more erect, quivering and tense,
a bead of preseminal fluid gathering at the opening of his
urethra. Delicately, exploringly, I dabbed at the precum
with my tongue, and as I came away a glistening strand of
the fluid drooped from my bottom lip to his cockhead. I rolled
what little I had of it on my tongue. The precum was slimey,
salty and tasted slightly of chlorine, but was otherwise
pleasant. I knew there were sperm in it, and that they were
already swimming through the layer of moisture on my tongue.
I lapped at it some more, and then let my hand slide down Dave’s
long shaft as … I let the head of his cock enter between my
moistened lips, into my mouth! This was it! I had Dave’s
quivering cock in my mouth! I was finally sucking his cock!
My mouth enclosed the head of his penis like a huge flower,
and I pressed it with my tongue, testing its firmness, then
I took a huge breath and, straightening, tried to let the
cock slide into the back of my mouth and down my throat. That
was a mistake! An instant gagging reflex took over, and
I came up gasping for air and fighting down nausea, a rasping
feeling in the back of my throat and a shy and embarrassed
smile on my face. Dave was wonderful. “That’s okay, ” he
said, catching my eye and smiling gently. “You were doing
well. But ….. that’s for later, anyway. Right now, I want
you a different way, like only a man can do you. I want to fuck
you, fuck you between your legs, on your back, just like
you fuck your wife. I want to cum in your ass. Are you ready?”
<br>

I nodded, nerves and fear knotting my stomach, as Dave directed
me in what to do and how to do it. We both let the robes fall
from our bodies, and then Dave took two of the huge hotel
pillows and put them on top of one another, right about in
the center of the bed. Speaking soft and low, and using his
eyes a lot, he directed me to lay down on my back, with my butt
supported by the pillows. I did so, and when I did as he told
me to and raised and spread my legs, drawing my knees up to
my armpits, I felt incredibly naked, exposed and vulnerable.
I knew that he could take a straight shot up my bumhole, and
it scared me. Dave, ever sensitive, sensed my fear. Perhaps
it was my involuntarily rapid breathing that gave it away.
In any case, he said “We’ll take this nice and slow, buddy,
nice and slow.” Then, he reached over to the nightstand,
took his own tube of K-Y jelly and, twisting off the cap,
placed the open tube gently against my puckered ring and
squeezed a big dollop of jelly onto and slightly into my
ass. I heard the sudden hissing intake of my own breath as
he inserted a finger into me. He gazed into my eyes, smiling
and mumbling reassuring things, as he massaged and stretched
my puckered sphincter. Then, when he was satisfied, he
wiped his fingers on a tissue and, his huge cock jerking
in his hand as he grasped it at its root, he came in between
my legs, arrowed his cockhead into the open crack of my well-lubed
ass, and then lowered his body onto mine. He forced my arms
back in a “Hands up!” kind of position, the backs of my hands
and arms flat against the bed’s white sheet, then he knitted
his fingers into mine, grasping me hard but somehow reassuringly.
Here we were, in the classic “missionary” position, me
spread-legged and on my back, pillows under my butt, Dave
on top of me and dominating me with his cockhead nuzzling
up to the lubricated but tight virgin ring of my anus, my
arms secured against the bed, unable to move, to escape
even if I’d wanted to. He had me pinned. Dave looked directly
into my eyes. “Are you ready?”
<br>

This was it! I was about to be penetrated, my body entered
and possessed by a man. Fucked in the ass!, at last. Almost
with tears in my eyes, I was so scared, I nodded, and then
after a pause, felt Dave begin to nudge against my anus with
his hard cock, gently coaxing me open, as he stared, first,
into my eyes, then down at the work he was doing with his cock,
then back into my eyes, then back to his cock in my ass crack,
a ceaseless round of fascination. He bumped against me
like that, very gently, for several strokes, and I could
feel myself gradually growing more comfortable, less
tense, I could feel my sphincter, loosened and lubricated
by his finger, beginning to relax. Looking into my eyes,
Dave could sense this, and his bumping the tip of his cock
against my tight sphincter slowly became more insistent,
until he was pressing against me with gentle force at the
peak of each short pelvic thrust. My hands tightened in
his. Then … finally … I felt the head of his cock “pop” past
my anal ring, and slide up into me maybe an inch. Pain soared
through me like an arc of fire! I arched my back and cried
out, whimpering, “Aiyeeee! Oooooo! Oooooo!” breathing
rapidly, trying to find a way to accommodate the agony surging
through my hips. Tears wet my eyes, my head shook from side
to side as I surrendered my virginity to him. Dave stopped
stroking, just letting the tip of his cock remain in me,
and, slowly, slowly, the pain subsided. Soon, with what
he took as a look of permission from me, he was able to push
again, I only had to grimace slightly, the pain was bearable,
as he slowly pumped, in and out, in and out, his penis thrusting
a millimeter deeper into me with each stroke. I could feel
my rectum slowly relax to take his huge member higher into
me, and before long his stroke was long and powerful, but
very slow, sensitive to me, feeling his way with me as he
deflowered me. Dave would withdraw until just the barest
tip of his dick was still inside me … then … push back into
me with slow but unyielding force, pushing up into me ever
deeper, ever deeper, until, finally, he came to rest with
his cock throbbing inside me, all 9 inches of his manhood
thrust up into my hips, his balls resting against my crack,
our hands knitted, and my whole pelvis fighting a complex
mix of agony and ecstasy. I was split open like a ripe mellon,
and the man with whom I’d fallen so much in love was buried
in my flesh. He had taken me, possessed me, and I was his.
<br>

“You okay?” he whispered to me, concern in his eyes. I nodded,
then he stooped down to kiss me, his tongue as deep in my mouth
as was his cock in my ass, and we frenched long and luxuriously,
connected at both extremities of our bodies. I’d never
felt anything like that before as I lay there like a bride,
his tongue exploring my mouth as his dick explored my insides.
Dave started to pump again, very slowly, but gradually
building in speed. “Oh yeah, ” he whispered to me, “You’re
doing fine, Jon. This okay for you?” I smiled in an embarrassed
way and nodded. Then, an impish look on his handsome face,
he slowly snaked his cock out of my ass, all the way out … he
paused in mid-air … then … slammed it home, burying himself
to the hilt in my tender flesh. “Unkhh!” I grunted, the painful
agony of his hugeness inside me surrendering to the joy
of being penetrated by him, filled by him. He did it again.
Withdraw. Pause. Then slamming it home. “Unggghkk!” I
grunted again, bucking up under him as his powerful body
and hips pressed mine into the pillows. Slam! “Unggghkk!”
Slam! “Unggghkk!” Slam! “Unggghkk!” Over and over, his
body becoming a piston, my body becoming that of a woman,
open and surrendered to him, my knees up and spread, my anal
ring stretched tightly around his thick shaft, my rectum
filled to bursting with his throbbing meat, my hands grasping
his in a desperate embrace. Over and over, over and over,
he pounded into me, fucking me, fucking me, hammering into
me, as though he were trying to drive himself whole up into
the inward parts of my hips. Somehow, fighting against
the tremendous pressure in my pelvis, I raised my head for
a moment to gaze down, stupefied, between my spread thighs,
to see for myself the work Dave was doing there. All I could
see was his swollen, glistening shaft, sprouting from
the thick tangle of pubic hair at its base, pistoning into
me, over and over. It would gleam in the low light as it came
out of me on the upstroke, then disappear, but then I would
feel, rather than see, its presence between my legs, as
its bulging head slammed up into me, bumping painfully
against some structure deep inside my ass, filling me with
an overwhelming agony of pounding pain but, somehow, enveloping
satisfaction. I gazed and gazed at Dave working in me, then
my head fell back against the pillow, rolling from side
to side as, sweating and trembling, I let Dave finish his
will in me.
<br>

Finally, after what seemed an eternity of desperate, agonizing
but wonderfully fulfilling pounding of his cock into my
ass, Dave’s breathing became ragged, I could feel him begin
to tense, then his eyes began to roll back into his head as
a huge groan issued from deep inside him. “OOOOooooohhhh!”
His hands let go of mine as he grasped my shoulders, coming
down more fully atop me, then he stuffed his hands under
me to grasp my ass, holding it rigidly to his pounding genitals
as he put his mouth against my ear. My hands suddenly freed,
I grasped his arms, then his back, and finally his humping
ass, and everywhere I touched his muscular body felt as
strong and stiff as a board. “OOOOooooohhhh!” he groaned
into my ear. “OOOOooooohhhh! OOOOooooohhhh! I’m going
to cum! Yeah! I’m going to cum!” he cried out as his hips jerked
and spasmed. “Are you ready, can I do it in you?” he demanded,
and I responded, my heart cracking “You’d better! Yes!
Do it in me. Cum in me! Do it in me! DO IT IN ME!” chanting it
like a mantra, over and over, “DO IT IN ME!” as his ass peaked
between my legs in the classic arch the male body takes at
the moment of “inevitability.” This was it. First I’d sucked,
then I’d been fucked, now I was about to be cum in like a woman
gets cummed in. And, sure enough, after a suspenseful delay
at the top of the stroke while his orgasm gathered force
in his loins, Dave pounded vigorously into me until, in
a moment of heavenly fulfillment, I could feel him let go.
Someone, somewhere - me? him? - was chanting “I love ya love
ya love ya love ya love ya love ya.” With a violent, shuddering
release, his cockhead swelled almost to bursting, he drove
it mightily into the deepest depths of my hips and held it
there, holding my ass pinned to him with his strong hands,
when … he dumped it all into me, I became dizzily aware of
the warmth of his thick semen beginning to pour in a volume
like water into the depths of my rectum. He held me pinned,
shuddering (“This is it!” while gush after gush of creamy
jizz spurted into me, and I felt each ejaculation as a shock,
a warm blow as he squeezed my neck and head unthinkingly
in a powerful embrace, trying to get even deeper into me,
a raging male bent on depositing his load. With Dave up between
my legs, pinning me, and binding me tightly in a strong embrace,
I was peeking from under his shoulder as his orgasmic spasms
shook and racked him and he fucked me mercilessly again,
unconscious of me, he was so swept away by the surging ecstasy
in his loins. I felt such a rush of fulfillment and … completeness!
… that I had my own orgasm, an “anal orgasm, ” piercing and
intense. My cock was not even hard, but as this huge man pumped
his sperm into me my flaccid dick suddenly jerked and a thrill
of ecstasy darted through me as I spurted myself, wetting
my belly with my own splash. Overwhelmed physically and
emotionally by what I’d just experienced, I moaned deliriously
as Dave finished inseminating me, ejaculating the last
milliliter of his precious fluid into me, and gradually
his spasms quieted, until he too, and I as well, became quiet.
We lay like that for a long time, his dick slowly softening
in my rectum, his sperm beginning their long swim deeper
up into me, my hips still adjusting to the presence of a man’s
sex within them.
<br>

It was wonderful. Gradually his penis shrank and slipped
out of me, my legs relaxed and came down, and our tense embrace
of one another loosened. We kissed, long and soulfully.
“I love you, ” we whispered to one another. I was so proud.
I’d done it! I’d satisfied my man! He had the shit-eating
grin on his face to prove it, and I had a couple of ounces of
his fresh jizz in me to do the same.
<br>

After we broke apart, first Dave, then I, darted into the
bathroom to clean up. I squatted over the toilet to wipe
myself, and as I stood a moment later at the bathroom counter
I felt a gooey trail of Dave’s now-liquified sperm oozing
down the back of my right thigh. I wiped it off, but he had
cum in such quantity in me that, mixed with the K-Y jelly
I’d squirted into my bottom, his semen soon snaked out of
my relaxed sphincter and down my leg again. Coming back
into the bedroom, I found Dave smiling contentedly on the
bed, and I cuddled against him, he wrapping his strong arms
around me as I nuzzled against his muscular chest. “Jon,
that was fantastic! Man, that felt so good, fucking you.
How was that for you?” he cooed. “Did it hurt too much?” I
thought for a minute, langorously steeped in his masculine
embrace. I felt pretty embarrassed.
<br>

“Dave … you just fucked me silly, used me like a woman, ”
I said uncertainly. “Now you want me to tell you how it felt?
Give me a break, man. Let me get used to this.”
<br>

He laughed. “No, I just wanted to know how it was for you.
I have a vested interest in that, since I’d like to do some
more of it, ” he finished, laying his hand flat along the
side of my hip and stroking me softly.
<br>

That did it! I laughed and, reaching up to take his cheek
in my hand, kissed him sexily. “You don’t need to worry about
that, bro. It was wonderful. Okay. I can talk about it, ”
I decided, settling in against him again. “It felt … BIG!”
I began, “like I had something very big inside me. It hurt
at first, but that diminished pretty quickly. I couldn’t
believe how deep you could push into me. After you’d been
pushing into me for a minute or two, I could have sworn you
were in me so deep that you were about to come out of my mouth.
But it was only a few inches. There was a lot more of you to
go. I couldn’t believe it when I finally took you all into
me. It seemed, feeling you go from all the way out to all the
way in, that your dick was snaking way up into my colon.”
Dave’s eyebrows went up. “It just seemed to push past something,
some bend in the channel or something, and then I could get
another couple of inches in me. That happened at a couple
of different depths, like you kept pushing around different
bends in the channel, and each time it seemed like a miracle,
but after you’d gotten that far up it became easier and easier
to get in me that deep again. The channel seemed to straighten
out, somehow. It got easier and easier. After that it was
just very big, and achey, too, and hot, too. I felt very hot,
with heat, I mean, almost like I was burning up. But it was
a good ache, a really satisfying ache. I wanted even more
of it.”
<br>

Dave was quiet, just listening.
<br>

“It felt so good to be giving you pleasure. You were pretty
expressive about that, and I knew you were having fun, and
that felt good, that I was able to give that to you, to really
satisfy you.”
<br>

“Oh you did that, alright. Was it okay when I was stroking
into you?” he asked. “I guess I get kind of carried away sometimes.”
<br>

“Are you kidding? That was WONderful! The pressure and
the friction of your dick against the inside of my anal ring
drove me CRAZY! I’ve never felt anything like that, I was
very sensitive there. Sometimes, when you pounded all
the way in, you bumped against something inside me that
was kinda painful, but I was so delirious with the pleasure
of all the rest of it that it didn’t matter.”
<br>

Dave had one more thing to ask. “Could you feel it when I came
in you? I noticed you spurted yourself then” he asked.
<br>

I giggled. “Oh yeah. Right at the peak for you, all of a sudden
I felt … flooded. Like I’d been flooded inside with some
very warm liquid. Like it was really pouring into me by the
cupful. And then I came too, but in a weird way, I wasn’t even
hard but I jizzed myself just the same.”
<br>

“That’s called an ‘anal orgasm.’ Much discussed in the
gay community, but rarely seen in the wild. Pretty amazing.
Pretty lucky you had one your first time out. You were really
ready for your first fuck, man.”
<br>

“I’ll say, ” I agreed. “It just swept over me like a wave,
and feeling myself spurting while my anal sphincter was
clamping around your dick, and while at the same time you
were dumping your load inside me, it was … just overwhelming!
I don’t know what caused it. I guess the massage your cock
was giving my prostate.”
<br>

“And I can still feel your sperm inside me, like a warm pool
of cream or something.” I looked up at him and our eyes met.
“You were inside me before, and you still are. Sperm live
for 4 or 5 days, you know. I’ll have your living body inside
me until Saturday, at least.”
<br>

The talk of sex excited us both again, and before long Dave
was ready for another go at me. This time, he suggested we
do it doggy-style, the position for a classic butt-fuck,
and a favorite of his. He had me hunch on the mattress on my
knees, supporting myself on my elbows, my knees spread,
while he came in behind me. He held the twin globes of my ass
in his hands like a warm loaf and, putting the head of his
hard dick against my anus, he penetrated me coolly, expertly,
with a single sudden thrust of his cock into my hips. I was
still so loose and lubricated that a single thrust took
him balls-deep up into me, the head of his cock bumping against
something sensitive deep inside me, so that I involuntarily
jerked my hips up in an automatic attempt to lessen the pressure,
a whinny of pain escaping my lips. “Sorry!” Dave said and,
gulping, I told him it was alright, just a little surprising
he was up into me so deeply so soon. But, yes, it was alright.
It felt good. I dropped to where my shoulders were pressing
against the mattress, and I felt my eyes cross, staring
fuzzily into a corner of the room, seeing nothing, as Dave
began pumping his cock into me.
<br>

At first, the strokes were tiny, abbreviated, as he moved
his cock mere inches within my yielding anal canal. Gradually,
he built up steam and his pace quickened as well. I hunched
on the mattress, staring dreamily at nothing, transported
to ecstasy as I let Dave fuck me like an animal, my ass raised
yieldingly to him, his legs between my knees, his hands
firmly grasping the sides of my hips. Soon, he was pounding
me mightily, fucking me without mercy for the second time
that night, thrusting and thrusting like a mighty piston,
turning my insides to jelly, while the bedsprings squealed
loud enough to alert everyone on the hotel floor. After
some minutes, during which I had to grasp the sheet in clawed
hands and bite my lips against the huge aching hammering
in my hips, he stopped, pulled out, then got to his feet.
“Stay. Don’t move!” he commanded. I was confused, then
I looked back over my shoulder and saw him plant his feet
on the outside of my knees and flex at the hips, guiding his
tense cock to my gaping anus like a huge, horrible, bee’s
stinger. He crouched in an awkward way, steadying himself
with his hands on my butt, while he stuck his cock down into
my ass again, going deep, balls deep, then pulling out all
the way, then sticking it in again, then out, then in, then
out. “You’re ‘gaping’, ” he said, fascinated. “When you’ve
been really well fucked, and the sphincter is completely
relaxed, it ‘gapes’, so it looks just like a big hole leading
deep into you. I love it when a guy gapes. Shows I’ve given
him good service.” Then he was fucking me again from this
perfectly commanding position, he on his feet, his huge
cock angled down and into me, and me hunched submissively
on the bed below him, on knees and shoulders, my face reddening
from the strain, my eyes staring sightlessly into oblivion,
my asshole gaping at him. Pistoning, pistoning, he fucked
me mercilessly until, once again, he switched positions.
To my surprise, he quickly withdrew and came around in front
of me, urging me back up onto my hands and knees, bending
my head back, so he could stuff his about-to-come dick into
my mouth. Still delirious from the gorgeous fucking he’d
been giving me, I was at first anxious about sucking a cock
that had just been pounding my ass, but I’d kept myself so
clean that all I tasted on his cock as he slid his dick right
into my mouth was the salty, chlorine-scented tang of the
cum he’d already deposited in me. I took him deep almost
to the root, urging him with my tongue to fire right down
my throat. But he had different ideas. After letting me
suck him for awhile, he had me lay on my back on the bed, mouth
wide, and he hunched over me, his dick at least a foot away
from my mouth, as he worked his own tool to climax. Deep rumbles
came from his chest, he grimaced as though in great pain,
then I saw him pause at the bottom of a stroke as he reached
the point of inevitability. Suddenly, with a twitch and
a jerk, he fired, jacking off into my mouth, shuddering
with delight. (That became a favored method of oral sex
for us – me on my back, mouth wide, while he crouched above
me and spurted thick strings of come into the back of my mouth,
over my teeth and lips, sometimes onto my face, giving me
the pleasure of scooping his juice up and licking it off
my fingers. We would often go from missionary position
to that oral one, especially if I’d had an anal orgasm and
Dave was able to hold off. When that happened I was almost
guaranteed a splurted mouthful of jizz-from-above!)
His orgasm seemed to last for minutes before he discharged
the last splosh of his gooey jizz into my hungry throat.
“Whee-ew!” he sighed and, sweat dripping, he staggered
off the bed onto the floor. I stayed where I was, ass stuck
up in the air for his use, now his view, gaping no doubt as
his sperm pooled deep inside me. “That was fan-TAS-tic,
buddy, ” he said, as he staggered gloriously off to the
bathroom, returning a minute later. I wiped myself where
I lay with tissues, then cuddled up to him again. I hoped
my sphincter would regain some of its tone, or I would be
leaking scum all night.
<br>

Sometime later we fell asleep, but we awoke after too long,
still deep in the night, and enjoyed intercourse twice
more. We’d been laying spoon fashion, on our left sides,
my ass nestled against Dave’s groin, his arms around me,
and he took me that way, that simply. We gradually swam back
up to consciousness as Dave’s cock became erect and prodded
naturally against my now-tender opening. I raised my right
leg and he took my thigh gently in his hand as, now fully aroused,
he found my rectum with his hard rod and entered me. It felt
very squishy and wonderful, he simply pumped up into me
in a few sleepy, lazy strokes without a word to me, as though
he owned me, then fucked me slowly, slowly, slowly. He reached
around with his right hand to take my cock gently in his fingers
and, in an instant, with his gentle stroking matched to
his throbbing pushes into my ass, my cock was hard. He continued
to fuck me slowly and stroke me slowly, still without a word
between us, and, somehow, our timing was perfect, because
I started to spurt my jizz onto the bedsheet just as, intensified
by the involuntary orgasmic clenching of my anal sphincter,
he shuddered and spasmed in ecstasy, filling me with his
gush. That was wonderful, and it became a position for intercourse
that I favored – Dave taking care of me both front and rear,
hand on my dick and cock up my ass, while I just lay passively,
not moving a muscle but deliciously stimulated fore and
aft, savoring the deliciousness of it. We dozed off with
his cock still filling me, he didn’t seem to go soft that
time. Then the fourth and last time we fucked that night
was a medly of positions – we started off in the missionary
position, me split and spread under him, switched to me
on top facing him, then me on top facing away, then doggy-style
again, then doggy-style with me hunched in an armchair
while he knelt, knees on floor, behind me, before finishing
in the bathroom standing up, as I supported myself on the
counter on my hands and he came in behind me, working his
cock up into my ass as we looked at each other in the huge mirror.
I was watching both him and me that time as, grunting, kissing
and nuzzling my neck, he filled me for the fourth time with
his seed as I drained my own cock into the washbasin. Ahhh!
I must have been carrying a pint of his jizz inside me. As
he withdrew, a stuttering stream of his sperm drained out
of my bumhole, drizzling onto the bathroom tiles. Everytime
I stood up I seemed to leak a couple of ounces of liquefied
sperm down my leg.
<br>

The next morning, after a few hours of sleep, Dave was ready
for another go, but I had to tell him that I was simply too
damned sore to take him again. He laughingly agreed, and
settled for a blowjob. I took his rod into my mouth and gently
worked him over with my tongue, bobbing up and down, up and
down, caressing his swollen cockhead with my tongue and
moaning with delight until I felt and tasted his sperm spurting
against my pallet and down my throat. I swallowed it all,
every splash, enjoying the salty, slimey treat as it settled
warmly in my belly.
<br>

Later that day I renewed my bathroom ablutions – douche
and lubrication – and later that evening we were able to
have intercourse again, but that night was even hotter
than the one before. We were back in the room after a hurried
dinner by 7pm, and Dave went at me with his huge dick until
well past midnight when neither of us had another orgasm
in us. That second night, Dave came in my ass 6 times and enjoyed
an additional 2 blowjobs from me, both of those preceded
by some vigorous ass-fucking, though he shifted the action
to my mouth and throat before coming off. It was wild. That
night I came myself 3 times, once by another spontaneous
anal orgasm (which, though quite rare, are a pretty regular
feature of intercourse with Dave), then twice by Dave jacking
me off as he fucked me, both doggy-style and spoon-fashion.
But, like I say, it eventually became too painful to even
think about cumming again, and we drifted off to a contented
sleep. When we awoke the next dawn I had some Morning Delight
ready for my man – I was on my elbows and knees when he awakened,
my ass already lubed and primed for him, and all he had to
do was roll over, kneel up between my knees, and stick it
in, until he could fuck me lustily, roaring like a lion,
the perfect start to the day.
<br>

It was like that for 3 whole days. In that time, Dave must
have fucked me 30 times, in all kinds of positions, even
once outside, in RockCreek Park, where we’d gone for a stroll.
I bet he dumped a quart of sperm into my body. My underpants
were always so wet with his liquefied jizz seeping from
my asshole that I had to buy a pack of sanitary napkins and
wear them in my underpants to absorb the flow. Dave thought
that was hilarious but … it worked! I didn’t fuck him a single
time – I didn’t want to – but I came plenty, both spontaneously
via anal orgasm, and by jacking off or being jacked off by
him while he was fucking me. It was some of the hottest sex
I’d enjoyed since I first got together with my wife, and
my ass was so sore from all the pounding and stretching it
had taken that I thought I wouldn’t be able to sit comfortably
for a week. It was wonderful. I was indeed “initiated.”
And … I felt for the first time … whole as a man and as a lover.
<br>

So, Dave and I became lovers, and our friendship did, indeed,
go to a new level. We’ve arranged our business affairs so
we can see one another a bit more often – for a few days, usually,
every month or two – and we continue to explore our physical
relationship, Dave as an attentive, gentle yet virile
“top, ” and I as a submissive but active “bottom.” Dave’s
favorite position, I think, is doggy-style; he likes the
roughness and the dominance of that. I enjoy it, too, though
I really love it when he strokes me to orgasm while fucking
me spoon-fashion, on the side – that seems an especially
delicious position in the middle of the night, or first
thing in the morning – and my favorite of all is missionary
position. I like it best because I feel most “taken” then,
my legs spread and drawn up, Dave’s muscular body stretched
full-out at length on top of me, and his stiff rod plunging
down and in between my legs, like it would into a woman, rather
than out and in like in doggy-style, or sideways and in,
like in spoon-fashion. Once, we set up a digital camera
to take some remote shots while we fucked, and, in the missionary
position, taken from behind or slightly to the side, we
look like any other couple fucking. That pleases me very
much.
<br>

Curiously, though I have a robust sexual relationship
with this man, I’m not attracted in the least to other men,
and still don’t think of myself as “bisexual, ” in the way
most people would use the term. Oh, sure, I am obviously
“bisexual” in that I enjoy intercourse with both women
and a man. But it is only one man, a very particular one, Dave,
with whom I first fell in love. He has other lovers out in
San Diego, I know, just as I have a rollicking sex life with
my wife here in New Jersey, but I won’t take any other men
for lovers. Dave loves me up real well. After two days in
the sack with him, I couldn’t even consider sex with another
man.
<br>

The only other thing to tell you is what this all has done
to me, for me. Obviously, I feel fulfilled now in ways I never
before even dreamed of. I have a man I’m in love with, I pleasure
him physically, and it fills me with satisfaction to slide
back into my car for the drive home after a weekend with him,
and to know that my hips still contain his live body, contributed
to me through the act of love in the teaming millions, billions
of his sperm cells with which he filled me. Curiously, being
fucked by Dave on a regular basis has made me a better lover,
a much better lover, with my wife. I understand perfectly
the “dick-hunger” she feels sometimes, because I feel
it sometimes, myself. And I now know, as she has always known,
what it’s like to love a man – his scratchy beard in the morning,
his short answers to complicated emotional questions,
the frustration of his unconsciousness, so much of the
time. And, in some mysterious way, though I feel more feminine,
I also feel more masculine, having come to know myself,
finally, as a complete man.
<br>

I hope this story will be illuminating for some of my brothers
and sisters, still struggling themselves with their own
sexual identities. Just be yourself. Stay safe, treat
yourself and your loved ones well, and you’ll be fine.

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that got me so hot i barely finished reading it before i jacked
off. i wish some body would fuck me like that. i have always
wanted to be with another man and feel a nice cock up my ass

4/30/2006

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so sexy and detailed...im not gay but it made me bi-curious...i
enjoyed reading this...1st time i had a hard on reading
gay erotica.

4/30/2006

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This story is AMAZING! I couldn't wait till I was done
reading it to get myself off... Ive always dreamt of having
someone like that for a lover... *sigh*

5/1/2006

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Fantastic, such a writer and story teller. I feel i many
ways the same, except that i actively seek men to have sex
with to satisfy my occasional yearnings. I will add that
i have been with 6 guys in 10 years. I consider myself but
with bi tendencies.
Y0ur story is truly a masterpiece. I would love to be so submissive
to somoene so powerful, strong and yest so kinde gently,
caring and sensetive.

5/1/2006

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well done, well said, well written.

5/1/2006

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well done!!! my cock is really throbbing in anticipation...

5/1/2006

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Wow! Great writing. That got my cock rocking.
keep em cumming.

12/7/2006

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Great story - -- I am a bi-sexual male and have been for a very long time -

I enjoy sucking on a guy's hard cock and having him slide his very hard cock down my throat and feed my tummy ---

I also enjoy sitting on a guy's lap and having his very hard cock go up my very clean ass hole - and cum in me -

What a man does to another man or woman does to another woman
out of my sight is their own affair.

2/15/2017