Date: Thu, 7 Aug 2003 09:31:30 -0700 (PDT)
From: GS
Subject: Renting my first porno, part 1

     Well here I am, a tormented middle-aged married man. 
Tormented because I failed to make up my mind a long time ago 
that I really liked guys more than girls, but the story of how I 
got here and what happened along the way will have to wait for 
another day. For now what matters is that, while I try hard to 
stay married and keep everyone happy, what makes me most happy is 
to be in the arms of another man. That leads to some interesting 
situations, to say the least!

     Believe it or not, I managed to make it to the age of 40 
without ever watching a porno flick-- either gay or straight! I 
know, what a prude, but hey, what can I say. I had finally 
reached the breaking point and decided I needed to see some hot 
man-to-man action on screen, but how?

     Now this is where I got really stupid. Usually us closeted 
guys are very careful, but every once in a while I get pushed 
over the edge and take unbelievable chances. I was in the local 
video store one morning and it was deserted except for one, male, 
and pretty cute attendant. What an opportunity I thought, as my 
lust took over my thinking. As I wandered past the entry to the 
back room where they keep the good stuff I thought, what the 
hell? I ducked around the corner and there spread before me was 
an awesome array of disappointing straight porno! None of it did 
much for me, but then I spotted it, one lonely gay title hidden 
among the others. Did I dare? In an instant of stupid bravery, I 
grabbed it on marched up to the counter.

     As I laid it on the counter it was obvious to the attendant 
what I had. Suddenly, I realized two things, first that I was 
"found-out" and really stupid, but then something else dawned on 
me. The guy behind the counter was acting different, but not in a 
bad way. All of a sudden he seemed friendlier, and almost, but no 
it couldn't be. My gay-dar is not very good (hell, if it was I 
wouldn't be married), but could he be sending me signals? There 
was that slight inflection in his voice, the lingering look, the 
extra effort at friendliness and then the fleeting caress of his 
hand as we exchanged money. At that point I was too scared to 
make a move other than out the door with my prize, but I can't 
wait until the next time I see him alone in the video store-- who 
knows?

. . . more to come. . . I hope?