Date: Wed, 02 Nov 2005 05:25:21 -0800
From: tball101@hotmail.com
Subject: My Life in The Closet Part 5: Going back

This is a true story about my life and my ongoing struggle with my
sexuality. I'm writing this as part therapy and part outlet. I live a
closeted life and I have never shared any of this honestly with anyone.
There are graphic depictions of male homosexuality and heterosexual acts
contained in this story so if you don't like it, don't read it.

Everything's true, most of the names have been changed because I don't want
to be outed by this story. This is meant not only to be a honest
representation of events, but my emotional state during my struggles.



"My Life in The Closet Part 5: Going back"

The last part of my story left off when I was 35 and had just split with my
wife. The immediate cause of the split was her cheating on me. The long-term
cause of the split was my secret gay life. Unknown to her and everyone else
who knew me as a "normal" straight guy, in my teens I was addicted to cock,
sucking the dicks of 30 or so anonymous strangers. These urges receded for
years but came back years later when I cheated on my wife with another guy,
had an AIDS scare, and had to tell her what happened. Our relationship never
recovered and we ended up in divorce.

After the divorce I was emotionally crushed and had a lot to contemplate
about the role my sexuality played in my current state of affairs.

Even though I was attracted to men and had the desire to suck cock all of my
life, for twelve long years, I lived a very heterosexual life. With the
exception of the lone, ill-fated gay experience that led to disaster, I had
been monogamous and faithful, and fully expected to have a family and grow
old with my wife.

But things had changed. Drastically.

I attached all of my problems to my wife's infidelity and fell into a long
period of self-pity.  I definitely had no interest in going back to
exploring my gay urges.

After wandering around in an emotional daze for a year, I, and everyone who
knew me, was shocked when I hooked up with the hottest female co-worker in
my office.

Her name was Kim and she was truly, unbelievably sexy. I have no idea why
she was attracted to me, but I suspect that she liked that I was vulnerable
and funny too. I didn't recognize it then, but deep down, I was determined
to prove by fucking this hot girl, that I was not gay.

She was 28. I was 35. We were together for around eight months. For the
first four months of our relationship, we fucked like rabbits.

After being cheated on, my self-esteem was fucked. Kim was just what the
doctor ordered. And she literally was the hottest girl I have ever been
with. She was petite and had the perfect torso, highlighted by a flat
stomach with Playmate like contours leading to her pussy. Her ass was
perfect and we had a lot of very hot sex: the best sex of my life.

But I wasn't in love with her and her personality left a bit to be desired.
After operating in a sexual froth for four months, I suddenly started to
have trouble getting it up.

I was mortified. What the hell was wrong with me? Oh my God! She might think
I'm gay!

I was petrified that she would question my sexuality because of my troubles.
That just made things worse. I was tentative and nervous in bed and our
relationship suffered. When we ended it, my guy friends thought I was crazy
for breaking it off. Not crazy. Just gay.

After we broke up I realized how unsatisfied I was with the experience, even
though I could never forget the great sex. But it didn't work. I wanted
more. I wanted cock.

I was alone now. I had nothing to hold me back. But everything that had
happened in my past was so fucked up and contributed to so much to the
unhappiness in my life that I was hesitant to delve back into those waters.
And I didn't want to. I could have still have a meaningful relationship with
a woman, couldn't I? Besides that, what would everyone think?

I needed to know what my sexual reality was. Was I bi? Or was I gay?

I started out my exploration of this question by a trip to the video rental
store. I figured that I would gage my arousal by watching straight porn and
then gay porn: "Girls who Suck Cock II" vs. a gay video called "Hot Rocks".

It was another bad decision in a long line of bad choices. With the shades
in my house drawn, I never even got to "Girls who Suck Cock II". I blew my
load so many times to "Hot Rocks" I was spent.

Images of beautiful young guys worshiping cock filled my eyes. The
pornographic joy of these men enjoying men filled me with lust. Huge, wet
cocks being licked and sucked by eager boys made me crazy. Bulbous mushroom
heads and veiny shafts drove me to distraction.

Fuck it. I needed it. My life was already ruined. I might as well go for it.

Okay, so I didn't want to be gay, but what was I going to do, jerk off for
the rest of my life?

The gay bar scene in LA is split. Glam hot boys and twinks, the "gay" crowd,
go to West Hollywood. The more "straight", closeted and seedy crowd go to
the East. I worked with a lot of gays and I was determined not to be
spotted, so I headed East.

There was a bar on Cahuenga Blvd. that I knew to be a gay bar because of the
rainbow flag on its awning. It was also on the way home to my house and I
often noticed the motley crew of characters whenever I drove by. Nobody I
knew would ever go there.

That was the place for me.

After I got by the nervousness of getting into the bar without being spotted
by people I knew, the first few times I went to the Spotlight I was
surprised by the amazing human landscape.

This place is close to Hollywood Blvd. and there are literally all types of
people who gather there. Old guys, male prostitutes, alcoholics, street
people and a few normal guys. There were a lot of guys who seemed "straight"
and looking for a place to feel comfortable in this strange gay world. It
was sort of like the land of misfit toys and I fit right in.

I approached my first visits like I was an anthropologist studying a foreign
culture.  I struck up conversations with lots of guys and we talked about
common gay experiences. But I had my libido firmly on check, trying to guard
against "weirdos".

After I went there a few times I started to get anxious for cock and my sex
drive kicked in. One night I met a young guy named Saul(pronounced sow-ul).

He was a 22 year old cute Latino guy(sound familiar??) with a youthful
exuberance and winning smile. We hit it off at the bar making small talk and
all of sudden the ambient noises of the bar receded and we were in a world
of our own. After me talking incessantly about my conflicts and newness to
gay experiences he asked me what I liked to do and I told him I liked to
suck cock.

He laughed and rubbed my leg. I reached my hand to his crotch and felt his
bulge. He was pretty hard and he got really turned on by my brazen flirting.
I asked him if he wanted to go back to my place.

I was in a zone. Once again possessed by my desires. Saul and I went back to
my place and quickly started making out. It was hot and heavy.

I sensed a little submissiveness in him as he went right for my cock and
pulled down my pants. Out popped my rod and he started to suck on it.

But this isn't what I really wanted. I wanted him. He had a quizzical look
on his face as I stopped him and led him to my bed.

Standing in front of the king size bed I had fucked my wife on so many
times, I stripped this hot young boy.

His cock was magnificent: a cut, eight-inch specimen that curved upwards to
a huge mushroom head.

I got down on my knees and worshipped his cock with reckless abandon. He was
hard as a rock, truly the firmest dick I had ever sucked. It was a diamond
cutter.

I tried my best to deep throat it but it was too big, so I spent a lot of
time on the head, working my way from the base of his shaft to his knob
again and again. I would make eye contact with him as his cock was rubbing
against my face and I was licking his nuts. I was a cock slut again and I
loved it.

He made a groan and I knew he was ready.

Things had changed since my early forays in gay sex. Years ago, I had
swallowed loads without discrimination. But AIDS changed all that. Sucking
cock was okay but swallowing cum was risky business.

I knew I never wanted to go through that type of anxiety again so I pulled
off and he shot.

This kid could shoot. He shot two or three ropes o cum into my hair and on
my forehead. I stream of cum rolled down to the tip of my nose. I laughed,
it was so hot.

We both got in my bed and he started to play with my dick. I was at
half-mast and didn't have any response.

This night was about his dick, not mine. I went down on him again. He was
soft and I brought him back. Lying on his back with me between his legs, he
started to buck and shot another load that hit him in the forehead. Like I
said, this kid was a shooter. Not being able to hold myself back I took his
softening cock in my mouth again. I tasted some residual cum which really
turned me on and started to work on his cock again.

He was a bit astonished and said, "You really do like to suck cock, don't
you?"

I couldn't answer verbally because his cock was in my mouth. But the answer
was yes, I did.

Poor Saul left my place with a dick soggy and pruned courtesy of my hot
mouth.

I felt satisfied. Unlike all my other experiences that ended in guilt and
denial, I finally admitted to myself that I was going to do this again.


I hope you liked my story. If you'd like to read more about my closeted
life, email me at tball101@hotmail.com I'd love to hear what you thought.