Date: Thu, 21 Jan 2010 00:37:11 -0800
From: Marc Barr <machofocker@hotmail.com>
Subject: Journey of a Family Man Ch 1 & 2

This story is fiction. If this story is illegal in your area
or you are underage, I suggest not reading it. This is a
read-at-you-own-risk sort of thing. I can't force you to
/not/ read it. Basically this disclaimer exists to cover my
ass eh? So other usual disclaimers apply. Read at your own
risk. Otherwise, enjoy!

I was a different man, so long ago. I still held on to the
body of that man... perhaps in desperation... clinging to an
old identity that I held sacred so long ago. But the mind
and the spirit had passed, and in its place was a stranger
that had new ideals and desires. How this change had
occurred can only be explained as a long and surprising
process for most people who were involved, especially to me.
Perhaps if I worked to simplify things this change could
only be attributed to my complacency of my new place in this
world... the nine to five world. The suit and tie world. A
world of deadlines, faxes, public transit and black coffee.
I had entered, or more accurately succumbed, to this world
out of necessity and not desire. I had a family; a loving
wife and three wonderful children. My priorities began to
change... or rather I let them be changed and in turn
unequivocally changing the man that I used to be.
I was a bad-ass, at least that's what I like to tell myself.
I was a man that embodied the qualities what many Americans
believe a "man's man" should have. I was tall in stature
standing six feet two inches in height and a healthy ninety-
five kilograms or two hundred and nine pounds in weight. I
chiseled my body starting when I was twelve, working hard to
gain and keep a muscle tight body. I wanted the look of a
marine which was always the image I attributed to
"maleness". I kept my body and facial hair trimmed, not
shaven or unkempt, maintaining a Marlboro man look for years
to come.
Just like the persona I tried to embody, I acted like one
too. Acted like how I thought a gruff cowboy would act
despite the fact that I was born and raised in the city.
Although I didn't speak much I wasn't afraid to speak my
mind when I thought it necessary. During my pre-teens
onwards I was never bullied and actually did my fair share
of bullying before "reforming". Rather the guilt of beating
those weaker than me eventually left a bad taste in my
mouth... and being so religious back then I thought that it
would also leave an awful mark on my soul. So in my teens I
began to consider myself a protector of sorts for those who
needed it. Indeed I went out of my way to make sure that my
school was safe... well as safe as I thought it should be at
that time... and since I was a teenager, my definition of
"safe" was not exactly prosaic.
My life during my teens was filled with women, heavy
drinking, women, pot, women, sports, and women, although not
necessarily in that order or one at a time. I was popular,
athletic, and surprisingly intelligent for a boy who rarely
studied and only relied on the brief moments of
attentiveness in class or during study hall. My life was as
good as it could be in high school. My home life was amazing
as my folks got along well and my brothers and sister and I
got along fairly well. I had a steady girlfriend who I grew
emotionally close to despite the fact that in the beginning
I fucked around with a number of women behind her back.
Eventually we would settle down and marry by the time I was
twenty-two, right after I had gotten my Bachelors in
Chemical Engineering. We had our first kid, a son, about six
months after the wedding, and another son a year after
followed by a daughter another year after.
But during the four years at University and even shortly
after my wedding I lived a life that could only be described
as self-interested. I tried to enjoy life as much as I
could, challenging the boundaries of expectations through
drugs, alcohol, knowledge, and desire. During this time I
became atheistic and the old religious teachings that were
instilled in me as a child no longer made sense. That is to
say that the concepts were no longer convincing, but its
teachings and moralities were just as admirable. Perhaps in
a way this new found philosophy was a way to come to grips
with my actions at that time. Despite my stable relationship
with my girlfriend I experimented. University was a time of
many firsts for me. My first Philosophy class, my first
Anthropology class, my first puff of pure Colombian gold, my
first threesome, my first foursome, my first orgy, and my
first gay experience, among other things...
My life at that time was uninhibited to say the least. I was
enthusiastic when it came to public forums and jumped at the
opportunity to discuss social and political issues as I was
when it came to exploring sexuality all the while
maintaining my image, that gruff and hardy male look,
organizing a football and rugby club (separate from the
teams as we did not compete and merely played for fun) on
campus. I did laps at the campus pool and used the weight
room. These things helped keep me in shape despite my
increasingly unhealthy lifestyle. Although for a little
while I even decided that I was a vegetarian suddenly
deciding that eating KFC was cruel to chickens (it is by the
way). But eventually my desire for meat won over the desire
to be socially conscious. Admittedly a part of it was also
the fact that it wasn't uncommon for me at that time to be
mocked, jokingly of course, of being a vegetarian.
Apparently looking and acting like the way I did, I wasn't
supposed to be a vegetarian.
My first time with a man actually came in the form of a
threesome. I was with my roommate, and then best friend, and
a girl from one of his classes. It was an interesting
experience to say the least. As much as I loved the smell of
a woman... that invitingly flowery scent from the perfume
that they cover themselves with, and the smoothness of their
skin, and the suppleness of their breasts... there was
something about the scent of a man that aroused me. My
roommate was not as well built as I was, but he did his fair
share of working out. There was something about his musk
that drew me in a way that being with a woman never did.
During that night all three of us explored our bodies in
great detail. Upon touching his skin a shiver ran down the
back of my neck and I had to force my body from shaking
uncontrollably (I did not know why it was doing this). His
skin was different from hers... it was quickly damp with
sweat... and his musk permeated the air around him. The
contours of his biceps were different from hers, and his
chest was hard and oddly soft at the same time, so different
from hers. I kissed her lips and my mind tingled, but when
my lips met his my mind raced and my chest burned. As the
girl explored me I began to explore him and he freely
welcomed it.
His rough large hands led me to the parts of his body that
he wanted me to explore. He pushed my face down to his neck
and I gently lapped his sweat. I made my way down his
shoulders and to his arms and breathed in the smell from his
arms. The girl at that time had already begun to take my
member into her mouth whilst I still took my time exploring
my roommate's body. My tongue found his chest which I
desperately showered with gentle kisses and naughty bites. I
remember hearing him groan in that rough voice as I bit his
nipple which caused a rush of blood to flood my head.
The heat in the room had become so intense that night and
all three bodies were writhing and sweating and kissing and
touching until they all became this single being that was
consumed with desire. He had taken my manhood into his mouth
that night but I never tasted his. I had touched it... I
remember touching it, caressing it, holding it, wanting it
but I never acted on it. I chose to penetrate her instead as
he did. We did it together and it became like a dance. I
could feel his member on my own as we both bucked in unison.
With every cry of her pleasure we thrust our pelvis together
in unison. I could feel the heat of his body as I could feel
hers... but his... it was overpowering. I wanted to keep up
with him more than I wanted to keep up with her. I wanted to
feel his tool rubbing against mine more than I wanted to
fuck her. In the end she had become a method to make my
desire to feel him a reality. Then we came... perhaps at the
same time I do not know. But the girl's cry was loud while
the two of us just grunted and moaned together, in unison,
our eyes locking until our cum began to leak out onto our
thighs.
I remember that while she slept and he was still awake, I
ran a hand across his face... feeling his five o'clock
shadow on my skin. I remember leaning over towards him and
kissing him on the lips. I think I remember his hand on the
small of my back and his tongue caressing my lips. And then
after that there was nothing but the blackness of sleep.

Chapter 2
Moving forward, it was right after my second son was born
that I began to realize that I needed to settle down when it
came to a job. I began to realize that I now had lives that
depended on me and I began to change my life accordingly.
There were no more random short jobs whose main purpose was
to make easy money which I would quickly spend. Now I was
looking for permanent employment. That's what I thought I
needed to do; I thought I needed the suit, the tie, and the
cubicle to make my family... work.
Despite the fact that my degree was in Chemical Engineering,
I got a job at the office as a floor Manager. My
responsibilities included making sure that the people below
me do their job in time while making sure that I finish my
job in time; which usually involves a lot of Excel, Word,
and Access work. I confirm the receipt of the items as well
as their contents, make sure the paper work is in order, add
the shipment onto the inventory, and then forward them to
where they need to be. I keep a tally on how many pass by, I
keep a tally on how much paper work that day had been done,
and if there was no work, I keep a tally on how much useless
office paper work was shredded to keep the workers occupied
instead of being sent home early.
At first I wore a suit but I soon found out that it was
unnecessary. I brought the suit but left it on my chair and
walked around with a polo-shirt, a tie, and black dress
pants. I'd like to add that I pulled off the look quite
well. My square frame was highlighted by the contours that
the shirt made around my body, and my dirty blonde hair and
green eyes always seemed to fit well with whatever coloured
shirt I was wearing. Just like in high school and university
I received my fair share of looks and it not only amused me
but aroused me as well.
I made a lot of money working for this company. We were all
about Statistics - numbers. How many people were in a
particular place, of what gender and what ethnicity, of what
profession, and whatever else we needed to know. Whatever
the people deemed to share with us we tallied them and sent
them to the government who studied the numbers and released
those figures of the number of the country's population did
such and such, or had such and such, or earned such and
such. Numbers, nine to five, statistics, thus was my life.
For fifteen years that's all I did. I worked out at a gym,
came home, had dinner, watched Letterman, fucked, slept,
woke up, bathed, ate, drove, worked, left, drove, worked
out, had dinner, watched Letterman, fucked, slept... wash,
rinse, repeat. My daughter was a product of a broken condom
during one of those cycles, but that doesn't mean that I
love her any less than her brothers. She's my little angel.
Then six years after her at the age of thirty I had another
boy. But this was my whole life: work and family. In fifteen
years I was a completely different person than what I once
was and what I had aimed to be when I was younger. It wasn't
at all that bad as I loved my family and didn't mind my job,
but the idea of a broken dream and forgotten promises, to
self and to others, still lingered in the back of my mind
and it began to eat away at my self esteem and my life. I
began to dream for another chance... a dream to reclaim the
youth that I once had. Even though I was only thirty-seven
years old, I felt older. Although I was still proud of my
looks, I was secretly ashamed of my life and thus my entire
being. Youth had left and had taken the life that had lain
rooted in my soul.
It was at this time, when I was thirty-eight, that I began
to change. With the advent of the internet and particularly
social networking websites, came with it a way to
communicate with the past. What was initially intended as a
new forum to communicate with other people in the office
unintentionally opened new worlds for me as well as helped
me rediscover old ones. I began to reconnect with long lost
relatives and friends. Amongst these rediscovered history
came the memories, and with the memories came back the
desire, especially when I was reconnected with Marcos
Avaris, my old roommate during college.
At first there were just a few emails every couple of weeks,
which turned into ever week, which then became every other
day or so. I had reconnected with my old friend and we
caught up, sharing our lives since we last saw each other.
He had moved to Mexico finding solace in the beaches, sands,
sun, and a woman and family of his own. Like me he had
succumbed to the traps of practicality and the "modern" way
of life as the two of us defined it. But at least he had the
beach and a year round summer at his disposal. In time our
conversation wandered into that event that occurred so long
ago... as we reminisced we began to talk about the threesome
that we shared in college. He was the first to admit that he
had a good time and wished that more had happened. I felt it
safe enough to tell him that I shared the same feelings and
that I had at one point, and still do, wished that the two
of us had done more.
Marcos admitted that he had had more experience with men
than he had let on at that time. He begun to tell me stories
of his sexual exploits before meeting his wife, and
eventually even told me about his current exploits outside
of his marriage. By this point in time I knew through common
sense that it was not a good idea to have this kind of
conversation using my work email address and created a
different email account for the sole purpose of
communicating with Marc. I became paranoid and deleted all
of the emails that we exchange after I had forwarded them to
my new email address. I made sure that history files and
cookies were deleted. Every time I read one of his emails my
body began to shake with anticipation and arousal. My palms
became damp and my body became flushed, yearning for the
stories and the exploits that he was willing to share with
me.
I asked him why he did it, going behind his wife sleeping
with men and women, although it seems they were mostly men.
He gave me a rather half cocked answer explaining that he
just needed a sexual liberation that his marriage and
conventional life could not offer. But for me those words
were sharp and true, echoing in my head and piercing my
consciousness. I understood his words, perhaps more so than
he did... at least that's what I told myself.
He had asked me about my experiences with men and I told him
everything that had happened since we last saw each other in
college and how I had changed my life after marriage. I told
him how now I felt lost and listless with my job and my
life. I quickly added how I loved my family, but beyond the
pleasures I got from being a father and a husband I felt
empty. His advice was to do something to change it... which
I thought was not at all that helpful since I had already
come to that conclusion so long ago, but just had not made
the effort to do anything about it, perhaps even lacking the
courage to do so.
I was curious, he pointed out, what it was like to be with
men. He explained how this desire would never go away until
it was explored. I understood what he meant. I knew that
going through my life just as I did at that time would
slowly eat away at the very essence of who I was. Eventually
the misery would fester and grow and begin to affect other
aspects of my life, including my family. I began to wonder
how it affected my family now. I then realized that it had
been some time, quite some time, since I had been with my
wife sexually. In fact Rachel and I had had sex even less
since my third son was born. When was the last time? I could
no longer remember... I remember lying beside her... I began
to think back wondering what I did... I did kiss her right?
I must have, she is my wife after all. I thought that I had
always given her a kiss before we slept and before I left
for work. But beyond that I could no longer remember when we
were last intimate. This revelation astonished and saddened
me. I no longer knew how I felt about my wife.
Marc had suggested that I explore and broaden my horizons
when it came to my sexuality. At first I refused citing my
marriage and what little of my fabricated morality remained,
but Marc just scoffed at that and said something along the
lines of the sanctity of marriage having never existed in
the first place. That it was a purely political construct
that had no social basis regarding the desires that fountain
within human beings. That and he justified it as something
that would never hurt his wife or family if they never knew
about it. In fact he even said that his sexual exploits on
the side improved his family life, saying that he was
happier and more attentive because of it.
Of course at this point I had forced myself to believe
anything he had said. The desire that was festering deep
within my body had grown in influence and I could no longer
listen to the whispers of social sense and conventions. My
body wanted to do it, needed to do it, desired it, that
experience that I had wanted for so long.
But I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how to go about
doing this, where to start. It was then that Marc helped me
by suggesting where to go. It seemed before he moved he used
to frequent a gym downtown where he used to pick up guys. He
said that it was the best place for me considering my
physique and that I would have no problem finding what I was
looking for... whatever that was.
I was intrigued. I began to ask a question about what it
was, what to do, protocol, when to go, how to get there, and
when I should go. There were so many questions which I
realized, now, must have been annoying for Marc but he
showed no sign of it. Instead he was quite patient and
answered my questions in length and I began to take mental
notes and began to plot my plans. When all was said and done
I made a plan to go right after work. I usually went to the
gym to work out for a couple of hours so things didn't
change that much. What was different was the gym that I was
going to and perhaps what I would be doing.

The day finally came and the first half of it seemed so
long. The anticipation had reached an apex and it was
difficult to contain my excitement. I didn't jack off, Marc
said that since it was my first time (that is to say first
time in a long while... and first time to do anything more)
it would be better if I didn't. That it would help with the
sexual excitement if I didn't pleasure myself beforehand. He
was right. All through the morning I could hardly control my
foot which tapped incessantly. I wanted to touch myself,
pleasure myself, but forced myself back; wanting the
pleasure to come from another man's touch and not mine. It
was difficult to concentrate and it became difficult to do
any of my work. But the excitement and the desire that
consumed my body also aroused me. I enjoyed it... the
wanting and the waiting. At one point the desire became so
much that my hand shook uncontrollably. One of my
subordinates took notice and asked if I was alright, I told
him that I was fine and laughed it off. I just told him that
I was just really looking forward to something. When he
asked what it was I just said that it was nothing big, just
looking forward to going to the gym after work to let out
some stress. He said something about how he knew what it was
like, but at that point I no longer had the mental patience
to listen to him so I excused myself and left. Then when the
clock stroke 4:30, I left as quickly as I could, almost
running out of the office in my excitement.
The gym was across town, quite further away than the gym
that I used to frequent. It also meant that it was further
away from my house and workplace which meant that it was far
enough that I would, hopefully, not see anyone that I knew.
It took me half an hour to drive to the gym. At that point
enough time had passed that I had regained some semblance of
control over my body. I took several minutes of pseudo
meditating in the parking lot to calm myself and control my
libido. After all Marc also said that even though a lot of
things had happened to him there it didn't happen all the
time, also it had been some time since he had gone to the
place and now it might be totally different. Perhaps nothing
would happen at all, a thought which filled me with
surprising dread.
I walked in the sliding glass doors and towards the
receptionist. The man behind the counter had dark features,
who I guessed was Hispanic, and he welcomed me with a smile.
"Welcome, you're a new face. First time?" He said with a
toothy grin.
The man was beautiful to me. He was built, more so than I
was, but it didn't seem hideous or too much. His chest was
like a barrel, and his biceps and shoulders where staggering
in width. He had black short cropped hair and dark brown
eyes which were highlighted by his sharp oval face. He was
shorter than I was, probably around 5'9". His face was clean
shaven and his voice was not as deep as mine, which made me
think that he sounded a lot like Mario Lopez, only with
slightly more muscle mass. Muscle mass that didn't at all
seem obscene or unnatural with his frame, on the contrary,
he looked quite attractive to me. I guess him to be no more
than twenty two years old, which impressed me more, having a
body like his at that age.
"Sir?" He inquired.
"Hmm? Sorry, no it's not my really my first time." I smiled
awkwardly. "I used to work out at a gym across town after
work. I just thought that a change of scenery might be in
order."
"Well I can actually tell. So you probably don't need that
much instruction from us then since you probably already
developed your own workout routine. So you want to join our
gym then?"
"Well I was just kind of hoping on testing the waters first.
The place seems pretty impressive. Let's see how it works
out." I smiled.
I saw him force back a wry smile. "Well then I'll have
someone show you around."
He left and went into a room with a nod and a smile. I
wasn't lying though, this place was impressive. It was
actually larger than the gym that I frequented. From the
outside I could tell that it had two levels as opposed to my
old gym's one. The building was also definitely wider. It
wasn't long before the clerk came back with another man in
tow. This time it was a blonde man close to his age, perhaps
even slightly younger. The guy wasn't as wide as the clerk,
but I could tell from the muscle shirt that strained to
contain his body that he was still quite built. He had
bright blonde hair and piercing green eyes, like mine. He
was about as tall as I was, but more slender. He had a
square jaw and an enthralling look which reminded me of
Abercrombie & Fitch male models.
"This is Fisher, he'll be showing you around the place.
Since it's your first time, you don't have to pay anything."
"Really? Thanks." I smiled.
"Yeah, we're pretty confident that you'll be coming back
so.," he laughs.
I raised my eyebrow at that comment, but Fisher already
motioned me to follow him and so I turned my attention to my
guide.
"Working stiff eh?"
"I'm sorry?" This comment pulled me back from my wandering
gaze, which had tried to take in every inch of the seemingly
massive and lively facility. Did I just hear him right? I
wondered.
He laughed and infectious laugh and I could help but grin
sheepishly. "You're wearing a suit."
"Oh," I said, looking down at myself, having forgotten what
I had worn on the way to the gym. "Yeah, office work. 9-5,
the usual you know?"
"No, not really." He admitted, "I've been here since I was
seventeen, and before that I worked as a camp counselor.
Never really have done much paper work. Well. basic stuff I
suppose, like kid stuff for you, but nothing in your league
I'm sure. I sure as hell didn't have to wear a suit for it."
I forced an awkward chuckle. "Yeah. I'm not much of a suit
man myself to be honest, but dress code you know? What can
you do eh?"
"Well don't worry," he said with a coy smile, "you pull it
off well."
I think I just blushed. Did I just blush?
I remember having said nothing in return.
He lead me to two wide set doors at the rear of the place,
ushering me forward as he held a door open for me that lead
to a narrower hallway with two doors on each opposing side,
one for men and another for women.
"Well come on in," he invited with a wide smile on his face,
holding the men's changing room door open for me as well.
The moment I walked in I was greeted by the familiar musk of
male change rooms. The room was quite wide and tiled on all
sides except for the cement floor. There were three long
rows of lockers that cut through the middle of the room,
separated in between by a narrow walkway for a total of six
rows. There were wooden benches on each side of the lockers,
and on the far right side of the room was an open doorway.
"That leads to the showers, the steam room, and a Jacuzzi.
We also have a pool, but that's at the far rear of the
building and you can access it by going back into the
hallway and heading past the doors in the far end. All
facilities are free for our members. Oh, and for you for the
rest of the day."
"When do you close?"
He laughed heartily. "Actually we're a 24 hour gym. But
you're only free until the rest of this day. Don't be
offended, we don't actually give first timers free gimmes a
lot, but you're pretty hot so. and we gotta make money you
know?" He added with a wink. "Oh, the exception to the 24
hour thing is the pool by the way. The pool is only open as
long as there's a lifeguard on duty."
That last part drove his wry compliment about my
attractiveness out of my mind. Not to mention that my eyes
were now wandering around the room, taking in the few men
who were in various levels of undress.
"So, do you need any help?" He asked.
Was there something in how he said it? I had started looking
for the clues the moment I walked in through the doors,
clues of the various things that Marc told me about. But
there was nothing, everyone seemed quite normal in their
routine.
"No, it's alright. I'll find my way." I said with a smile.
When he left I turned around and walked towards one of the
rows and stationed myself in front of an empty locker,
preparing myself to change.

To be continued: Questions, comments, hate mail, random
shit: machofocker@hotmail.com