Date: Sat, 21 Aug 2010 13:11:39 -0700 (PDT)
From: Henry Brooks <hankster1430@bellsouth.net>
Subject: Never Love a Married Man

So here's what you need to know about me.  I'm not going to tell you
anything you don't need to know.  Just the facts and nothing more.

I am 36 years old.  I practice law in the city of the angels, Los Angeles.
I am married with kids.  My son is 14 and my daughter is 12.  My wife
teaches third and fourth grade at a nearby elementary school.  We have a
large home in a good neighborhood.  Our very private back yard boasts a
huge patio, barbeque pit, and a fairly good size swimming pool, which our
gardener maintains for us.  My wife and I often skinny dip after the kids
have gone to bed.  I think my son caught us once.  He had a real smirk on
his face at breakfast the morning after.

I work out at a gym three times a week.  It is on my way home from work,
and I stop off on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.  My wife loves how well
I keep my muscled, fatless body and she doesn't mind at all that I come
home late.  On gym nights she keeps dinner hot for me.  I am proud of my
body.  I am 5'11" tall. I am very muscular, but not grotesque like a body
builder.  My cock is 5" flaccid and a good 8" erect.  I am cut.  Thank God
my wife loves oral sex and she gives my tool a good workout.  I
reciprocate, of course, but I really don't enjoy it.  I'd rather fuck her.

On the surface we are the all American family.  You can't pigeon hole us.
We don't have a political affiliation, and prefer to vote as Independents.
Neither do we have a religious affiliation.  We rarely attend church, and
if we do at some holiday time, we just go to the church nearest at hand.

I guess there is only one thing that may set us apart, and I am not certain
as to how much apart that sets us.  You see, I AM GAY!  Maybe there are a
million married men like me, and maybe just a few.  I don't know.  I doubt
anybody ever took a survey.  I am deeply closeted.  Certainly nobody knows
about me, but me.  My yearning to have sex with a man is eating me up
alive, but I don't dare give in.  I don't want to risk losing everything I
have, by getting caught.  Instead I read internet porn, look at pictures,
and jack off to my fantasies.

I am with it enough to know when a man is cruising me, but I always feign
innocence, and turn away.  I always turned away, that is, until that
fateful day at the gym.

It was a Wednesday and I stopped on my way home from the office.  After a
vigorous work out, I hurried naked into the shower.  There are a dozen
shower stations, and the urinal rule is carefully observed.  Whenever
possible, every other shower is used.  When I came in I had no trouble
observing the rule.  There were only two men in the shower room.

I usually have a problem in the shower.  I must use all my will power not
to check out the other guys, if you get my meaning.  I am well enough
endowed that I don't worry about someone checking me out.  I usually manage
one furtive glance before displaying an air of indifference.  I took a
quick look at the two men.  One of them was just shutting off the shower
head and he was reaching for his towel.  He was at least thirty pounds
overweight.  A flab of fat covered most of his dick and it looked like he
had no cock at all.  The other was quite good looking, lean and muscular,
but he was old, at least 55.  He was uncut and had a good size cock.  His
hair was salt and pepper, mostly pepper.  His eyes caught mine (my worst
nightmare) and his steel blue eyes smiled at me along with his warm and
inviting grin.  I had to turn quickly away or I would have gotten a hard on
and embarrassed myself.  Before turning away, I had time to admire his
uncut cock.  It was about the same size as mine, but much thicker. Yum!

When the overweight man left, we were alone.  I took a shower head just two
stalls away from him.  I didn't want him to think I was shunning him.  At
the same time I didn't want to stand too close.  When I figured that he
should be about finished, I stole a quick glance at him.  He was soaping
himself anew, like he was just beginning his shower.  We continued to
shower in silence.  Every time I looked his way, he was smiling at me.  I
tried not to make eye contact but eventually I could not avoid it, and I
had to smile back at him.

It was then he said, "Hi.  My name's Brad.  Why do you keep turning away
from me?  I'm not a sexual predator."

I must have turned ten shades of red.  "I wasn't trying to avoid you." I
said.  "I'm just trying to hurry up and get home for dinner.  I'm late."

"I figured," he said.  "I see you have a wedding ring in all the right
places."  What the fuck did he mean by that?  Besides wearing it on my ring
finger, did he mean I looked married?  I hoped not.  He continued.  "I work
out every evening right after work.  This place is very convenient for me.
My apartment is just around the corner, and I don't have dinner waiting for
me.  I'm single so I make my own meals when I get home."

He stopped talking and the silence was uncomfortable, so I said, "I really
didn't mean to be unfriendly, Brad.  I'm sorry if I gave that impression.
My name's Matt."  Then I did the craziest thing, without thinking of
course.  I left my shower, and reached out to shake his hand.  I might add,
he took it with a strong grip and held it a little longer than was
necessary, I thought.

Now here's where it got interesting.  We were drying ourselves at the same
time.  Out of the blue, he said to me, "I'm a CPA.  My office is around the
corner from Good Sam Hospital.  How about you?"

"I'm a lawyer and my office is a block south of the hospital."

"Great," he smiled back at me.  "We should get together for lunch some
time.  Maybe we can refer business to each other."

I now had a good business reason to get to know this guy better so I
relaxed and foolishly said, "I'll be here Friday after work, and I don't
have to rush home.  My wife has a Parent-Teacher evening.  My kids are old
enough to care for themselves so maybe we can chat about this after our
workout."

His beautiful grin got bigger.  His straight, pearly white teeth smiled at
me.  "That sounds fantastic, Matt.  We can go to my place and I'll make us
a drink and a light dinner."  I could feel my heart beating loudly and
skipping beats at the same time.

"You're on," I said.  My knees were shaking.  I wondered if I would have
the courage to work out here on Friday or if I should seek a new gym.  Down
deep, I knew that I would be there.


We entered Brad's apartment on Friday evening and I did a double take.  The
apartment was decorator furnished and looked like a picture right out of a
magazine.  But it wasn't overdone.  It was very classy and tasteful.  I
thought that my wife would go ape if she could see this, knowing she never
would.  Brad was aware of my awed face.

"I don't take any credit for this," he said.  "I have a friend who is an
interior designer and he helped me put all this together.  I just moved in
a couple of months ago."

I eyed the room once again and then said the stupidest thing I ever said in
my life.  I should have been immediately disbarred from the lawyering
profession.  "Your friend must be gay," I muttered.  "No straight guy did
this place."  The moment I said that, I wanted to run, but Brad's reaction
stunned me.

"Oh sure, Timmy's gay.  Most of my friends are," he said in a very matter
of fact tone.  Before I could react, he said.  Come with me into the
kitchen while I prepare dinner.  We can talk some shop."

We did.  By the time dinner was ready, we had established what we each
specialized in, and created a picture of what a good referral client would
be for each of us.

Dinner was quite good actually.  Brad had frozen spaghetti and meatballs in
the freezer.  He took it out and defrosted it in the microwave.  He then
heated it up in pots atop the stove.  By that time, the frozen Italian
bread was defrosted, and he served it with butter.  Red wine complemented
the meal.  We had ice cream for dessert.

I helped him clean up, and we went into the living room with a fresh glass
of wine.  Brad pointed to the sofa and I sat down.  Damn him, he sat down
right next to me and our thighs touched.  Neither of us made a move.  I was
too scared and he was probably trying to seduce me, I hoped.

I must have looked very uncomfortable, because after a long silence, Brad
said, "You seem to be very uncomfortable.  You do know I'm gay don't you?'

"I figured," I answered inanely.

"If you'd like to leave," he said, "I'll understand, but I would really
like you to stay."

Now I told you that my desire for gay sex had always been my secret, but
somehow I decided that it was time to confide in someone.  Why not Brad?
He was gay, older than I, and a mature man I believed that I could trust.

"May I confide in you?" I asked.

"Absolutely."

"I think I'm gay," I said barely above a whisper.  "I've never been with a
man, but it's all I think about."

"I had a suspicion," Brad said.  He smiled at me and took my hand.

I was flabbergasted.  "Why did you suspect?" I asked.

"It was the way you were checking me out, how you kept turning away so you
wouldn't get a hard on.  I could see the lust in your eyes."

I was deeply embarrassed, but for some crazy reason, I started to laugh.
"I guess I'm not as good an actor as I thought."

Brad looked deep into my eyes.  He put his thumb and forefinger on my
wedding ring, and began to speak.  "I like you, Matt.  I like you a lot.  I
could easily fall in love with you."

My blood was pumping so hard, I was getting faint.  Was this the night I
was finally going to have sex with a man?  Brad continued, "But as long as
this ring is on your finger, there can be no future for us.  I'm not
looking for instant gratification, Matt.  My partner of thirty years died
of cancer six months ago.  I know I can't replace him, but I want a
relationship.  I want someone who is there for me 24/7.  I'm not willing to
share a partner with another bedmate, male or female.  I don't want to live
in the background waiting for stolen moments.  I want my guy to be just
that, MY GUY!  Do you understand what I am saying, Matt?"

I understood full well.  I was not going to get laid that night after all,
at least not by a big fat cock.  I started to cry.  "What am I to do?" I
sobbed.  "I can't go on living this way."

"I wish I could help you there, Babe," Brad said.  (Did he call me Babe?)
"You have to decide if what you want is worth giving up what you already
have.  If it isn't, then continue as you are.  I can tell you this much,"
he added.  "If and when that ring comes off your finger, I'd love to share
my life with you.  Until then, I want to be your friend and a business
associate."

I nodded to let him know that I understood and respected his position.

"I'd better go now," I said.  "Have lunch with me Monday.  I have a client
who asked me to recommend a good accountant.  I'd like to talk to you about
him."  I didn't want to, but I had successfully changed the subject.  I got
up to leave and Brad put his arms around me, hugging me tight.

"I do like you a lot," he reiterated, "but that ring on your finger..."
His voice trailed off.


From the moment I said, "I do" I regretted my decision to marry.  Over the
past fifteen years I had agonized constantly about telling Staci that I was
gay, and asking for a divorce.  At first I thought of asking her if she
would mind an open marriage, but then I realized that an open marriage
might satisfy my lust, but would not satisfy my emotional need to love and
be loved by a man, and to be a part of the gay community.  In spite of how
I felt, I did not have trouble making love to Staci.  We used oral sex as
part of our foreplay.  When she went down on me, I pretended she was some
hunk I had seen in the gym shower, or some handsome movie star, and I was
instantly hard.  The rest was easy.

Sometimes I wished that Staci would have an affair so she would realize
that I wasn't that into her.  I wanted her to experience the passion that
came with true love.  I somehow wanted her to find out about me all by
herself, since I didn't have the courage to tell her.  I never gave her any
reason to suspect, and if she did, she never let on.  Now, since meeting
Brad, I really had a serious reason to want out of my marriage.  Now I had
someone to go to.  Leaving Staci was no longer an abstract vision.


I couldn't wait to meet Brad for lunch on Monday.  We met at a small
sandwich shop near the hospital which was frequented mainly by hospital
personnel.  We were both self employed, and neither of us had any
appointments that afternoon, so we lingered over our sandwiches.  I gave
Brad the names of two of my clients I intended to refer to him, and he gave
me one name, so when they called, we would know who they were.  Finally, I
came out with it.  I told him how miserable I was, but I didn't know how to
break the chain I had forged.

"I truly wish I could help you," he said, "but this is one thing you have
to solve yourself."  Thinking back, his statement sounded harsh, but he
didn't say it that way.  He said it in a most sympathetic way.  Then he
stood up, extended his hand and asked, "Will I see you at the gym tonight?"

"Yes," I answered.  "I'll get there about 5:30."

"Me too," he said and he was gone.

That evening, we changed in the locker room together, and then worked out
side by side.  When we headed naked for the shower, I got a hard on which I
decided I wasn't going to hide.  I was praying all the way to the shower,
and my prayers were answered.  We were alone.  This time I took the stall
next to Brad, and got really brave.

"Want me to do your back? I asked.

Without hesitating he smiled at me, and handed me his soap.  I lathered his
back and his ass.  As I started to reach underneath to do his balls, he
turned and grabbed the soap.  "No!" he said.  Then he rushed through his
shower and left abruptly.

He called my office early the next morning and apologized.  "I'm sorry," he
said, "but I told you that I couldn't get involved with you.  Let's meet
for lunch.  I need to talk to you."  As if I would say no.

At lunch, Brad leaned into me and whispered, "You know how I feel about
getting involved with a married man, but I want so much to make love to
you.  Can you get away and spend the afternoon with me?  No strings
attached."

I didn't answer him, but I pulled out my cell phone and called my office,
telling them that I would not be in the rest of the day and could not be
reached."  Immediately, he did the same.  We ran to where our cars were
parked and I drove to his apartment.  He was waiting for me in the parking
lot.

Once inside, our lust took over.  We couldn't bother to undress each other.
We undressed ourselves in record time.  We just stood still for a few
moments staring at each other.  We had seen each other naked before, but
this was different.  Our dicks were hard and bobbing up and down.  Both of
us were breathing hard.

The silence was deafening.  "I'm a virgin," I blurted out, and then I could
have kicked myself.  "I know," he said.  "Let me guide you and teach you.
Would you like to fuck or be fucked?" he asked sincerely.

"Both," I answered in pure innocence, not knowing what to expect.

"Good," he said as he took my hand and led me to his bed.

We lay in his bed facing each other.  He took my cock in his hand and
started stroking gently.  I literally started purring, but I was way beyond
embarrassment.  I took his cock in my palm.  It was the first time I had
ever felt another male prick, much less a hard one.  I was amazed.  It was
like velvet over a steel rod.  I pushed back what foreskin remained on his
purple head and started to stroke gently.  As if to let me know that he
felt the same way that I did, he started purring as well.

I could feel an orgasm growing and Brad seemed to know it also.  He
abruptly let go of my cock, leaned over me and started to lick my cock up
and down the shaft.  Then he sucked my balls, and just under my balls at my
crack.  I gave out an involuntary little squeal.  He took me into him and I
could feel his lips pumping the outside of my cock as his tongue licked up
and down the shaft as if he was sucking a lollipop.

Again I felt an orgasm coming on and I stopped him.  He had promised that I
could fuck him.  I had never fucked Staci in the ass, but I had often
dreamed of it.  Still I was determined to remain patient.  I wanted to
taste Brad's cock, so I leaned over him and repeated everything he had done
to me with one exception.  When my tongue reached his crack, he lifted up.
It was a clear invitation to go further.  My tongue found his love canal
and instinctively I began to suck it, and I inserted my tongue as far as it
could go.

"It's time," he said.  He reached over to his dresser and ripped open a
condom, which he deftly rolled down my cock.  Then he took some KY Jelly
and lubricated my cock and finally his ass.  When he was ready, he
straddled me and positioned himself over my cock.

"This is the easiest way to enter," he said.  He lowered himself on my cock
as I looked into his face.  I could see that he was in pain, but when I was
all the way in, he rested a moment and then he began to pump.  I pumped
with him, and soon enough I could see the pleasure in his face.  I'm sure
he could see the pleasure in mine.  I came way too fast, and in time my
limp dick retreated.

"Are you sure you want me to fuck you?" he asked.

I nodded.

"Good," he said, "because I almost came and I wanted to save it for your
ass hole."

He put on a condom and greased himself.  Then he laid me on my back and
lifted my legs onto his shoulders.  He inserted a greasy finger up my ass.
God, it felt good, but when he inserted a second finger, it hurt a little.
He reamed my ass until I was used to it.  Stretching me a little further,
he inserted a third finger.  It hurt, but I knew it would pass.  I closed
my eyes waiting for more when suddenly I felt empty.  Brad had removed his
fingers and his cockhead was poised to enter.  Once again he asked if I was
sure, and I nodded.

As he entered me deeper and deeper, it was very painful, but it was what I
wanted and I wouldn't stop him.  Finally he was all the way in and I wanted
to cry out in my agonizing pain, but I didn't.  Suddenly I felt his cock
move and he touched something deep within me.  Slowly the pain left and I
was overwhelmed with pleasure.  I began to purr again, and Brad began to
gently stroke inside of me.  I began to think that I never wanted this to
end, but Brad's breath was getting shorter and shorter, and with one big
wail, he exploded inside me.


Of course, Staci wanted sex that night, but I was not up to it, and I made
some lame excuse.  I lay in bed beside her, wondering if I could ever have
sex with her again.  I had experienced all my fantasies and somehow, even
that first night, I knew that I could never go back again.

Brad and I continued to have lunch together and to work out at the gym
together.  We saw each other more and more at business meetings, as our
list of mutual clients grew.  Beyond that, he would not have sex with me
again.  "I love you," he said, "but I can't have you part time, less than
part time."

I knew he was seeing other men, and I grew insanely jealous.  I told him so
one day and he retorted, "Now you know how I feel about Staci."

After that fantastic afternoon with Brad, my marriage changed.  I no longer
wished to avoid male sex, and sought encounters at the gym and through the
internet.  I had plenty of male sex, but rarely saw anyone twice.  Nothing
measured up to my few short hours with Brad.  As for Brad, he was pleased
that I was playing the field, but he actually worried about Staci.

And what about Staci?  We practically never had sex anymore.  After awhile
she stopped objecting and I resumed my prayer that she was seeing someone
else.  Time flew by quickly.  My son was suddenly off to college and my
daughter was a junior in high school.  To my extreme relief, Brad was still
unattached and we were still friends.

Friends indeed.  I found him looking at me with longing, when he thought I
couldn't see him.  Once, at lunch, he took my hand at the table, but
quickly released it.  "Please," I pleaded with him, but he shook his head.
I cried inside all afternoon.

The day before my daughter left for college, my marriage ended abruptly.
Staci came to me and asked for a divorce, a friendly divorce, without
animosity.

"I don't know what has been going on with you these past few years, but I
am tired of living like a nun," she informed me.  "I have been seeing one
of the other teacher's at work, and we want to get married."

When I remained silent after her announcement, she asked me, "Was it me?
Did I do something wrong?"

"I embraced her, much to her surprise.  "Oh no," I said, "never you.  I
love you, Staci, but I need to admit something to you.  I've been so
afraid, but now I can tell you.  I'm gay."

"Poor darling," she said, holding me closer.  "I suspected, and I was
afraid to ask you.  Do you have someone?"

"I'm not sure," I answered.  "He refused to have anything to do with me
because I am married."

"Find your happiness, darling," she said fondly.  "I have found mine."

Even though it was not a gym day for me, I went to the gym that evening.
Brad smiled when he saw me.  "This is an unexpected pleasure," he said.

"I just felt like a little exercise," I informed him.  I was wearing my
ring and I didn't say anything to him.  After our workout, we showered next
to each other as we had done now for the past few years.  When he handed me
the soap to do his back, I didn't take it.  Instead I removed my wedding
ring and handed it to him.

"I'm not wearing a wedding ring anymore," I said without embellishment, as
simply as I could.  There were two other men in the shower, but Brad didn't
seem to care.  He embraced me and wept on my shoulder.

Of course I went home with him that night, and we have not spent a night
apart since that day.  We even attended my ex wife's wedding together, and
graduation ceremonies for both my kids.