CAUGHT! Gay/Straight/True
               =========================

I visualized him in my masturbatorial fantasies...
and even thought about him occasionally, when I was
buried deep in my wife. These were harmless musings
that made me orgasm strongly. He was ten years
younger than me, attractively fair, quite
effeminate and charmingly gay. We took kayaking
classes together the month before I ran into him at
the neighborhood community center.

Inside the cafeteria, we gabbed about kayaking. I
felt awkward because I was certain he could feel my
curious homosexual fascination.

After coffee, he invited me into an empty, cozy room
where old folks play bridge Wednesday evenings. We
sat across from each other on matching leather sofas
and discussed nothing really; at least nothing on
the surface. Deeper, we were transmitting passionate
innuendo. It was about four in the afternoon that
hot, summer Sunday and I was due to pick-up my kid
from daycamp, but I lost all sense of time. I was
consumed.

He'd lean forward to squeeze my knee whenever I
said something funny. He'd tilt back into the
cushions, laugh and spread his legs. He was so well
groomed and had a soft nature; not intimidating at
all. I never felt like this before. I was actually
having an erection over another guy!

he asked if I was gay.  I never -- ever touched a
naked man but blurted, "I'm Bi." I really didn't
know what I was at that point. I'd have said
anything because I wanted him. 

The atmosphere became electric and my chest
pounded. I gazed unmistakably over his tight
Levis. He pursed his lips as I've seen women do
often.
   
Without reserve, I put my hand in my pocket and
clutched my penis. He blew a kiss at me. I was
trapped in the game. I had to be alone with him.

I surveyed the room and hallway but found no
place isolated. I told him I lived down the road
apiece, and asked coyly if he'd come to my car in
the underground. A woman would feel this cheeky,
but the guy stood in an instant. We were both
giddy and there were no subtleties. It was pure
male-sexuality. I beamed as we walked away from
the community center.

The underground's labyrinth was snug and private.
If anyone closed in on the car, we seemed to be
people on the go.

We built the mood again. I leaned over and touched
his face. I can't remember the last time I felt
another man's shaved beard. He reached for my fly
and unzipped. I helped him tug at my trousers. He
closed his warm, wet, mustached lips around my
cock, and I stretched out, stared through the car's
roof, and got hard in his mouth.

Bingo! My wife's horrified face blazed through my
side window. I gasped. The fellow raised quickly.
My pants were around my knees. My sodden cock stood
solid but slackened quickly. She stomped off. I was
dumbfounded and flustered. I weighed running after
her but relaxed and uttered instead, "Finish me
off, Lover." I must have been insane. He grasped my
cock, floated down, and slurped enthusiastically --
until I convulsed and creamed between his delicate
lips.

He asked me to watch him jerk off, so I cupped his
balls. My other hand fumbled about to stroke my
own.  Suddenly he cried, "Here, this is for you!"
and squirted consecutive arcs of cum over his
T-shirt up to his chin, and down to his fur.

We sat absorbing the afterglow and discussed the
mortifying disturbance. I guess he was trying to
untangle himself when he claimed sadly, I enticed
him back at the center. I assured him I would never
hold him responsible.

It happened! It's over I think... except when my
wife and I make love. She asks for a blow-by-blow
chronicle of that afternoon when she decided to
get the kid herself... since I didn't come home on
time. I mean right in the middle of fucking, she
quizzes me...

And I tell her!

My loving mate, friend, and confidant suffers no
ill. As a matter of fact, the experience
compliments our sex life. Recently, she insisted on
sucking me in the car; unusual for my conservative
wife. Sometime, when we masturbate together, she
tempts me to describe my same-sex fantasies. During
a family vacation to the mountains, she stood 
naked in our chalet, and covered her pussy with her
hand. I knelt, then she tugged my head and pumped
her thumb into my mouth.

I never saw my graceful, cock-jock again but I
search for him whenever I'm at the center. I need
to hold his cock and watch his expression as he
spurts love juice. I'd worship that, just one more
cheatin' time.