Confessions of a Married Guy Pt. 04

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My wife left town for five nights in spring a couple years ago. This was back when I was trying to be a good boy, staying sober, going to 12-step meetings and at least making an effort to quit porn. But I threw it all out the window when she left town.

My binge started when I came home to an empty house on Friday night. Adrenaline surged through my veins when I realized the rare opportunity I had. It wasn’t everyday I could have sex with strangers in my own house, but I could for the next five days. I dashed to my car and headed to the grocery store for beer. I was back in my house with a 12-pack of fancy, craft brews and was ready for action.

I set up in the bedroom with my back against the headboard, a pillow on my lap and my laptop on the pillow. The 12-pack sat on the nightstand next to me, still in the plastic bag from the store. I grabbed a bottle out of the bag and twisted off the cap. A little condensation on the green glass gleamed in the lamp light. I poured a long swig into my mouth and swallowed before I could think twice. It was official. I’d relapsed on alcohol. Again.

It took me less than three fast beers to find a married guy who wanted to swing by my place on his way home. He was four miles away, according to the app. I sent the guy my address. He pulled up in front of the house seven minutes later.

I opened the side door before he could knock. It was obvious from the way his chest was heaving that he wanted a no-frills, steam-blowing fuck, just like I did. The guy followed me to the bedroom. I’d laid out the bed exactly as we’d agreed. My wife’s lacy, red teddy lay sprawled across the white comforter. A picture of her was propped against the pillow next to my open laptop, which was playing a compilation of cream pie videos.

I stripped off my blue, button-down shirt, then unzipped my khaki pants. I pulled them and my boxers down and showed the guy my pulsating boner. Then I went to the nightstand and pulled out a bottle of KY Jelly. The guy didn’t need another hint. He shed his starched, white shirt and neat dress slacks, then got in the doggy style position on the bed. I handed him the KY Jelly, he squeezed some on his fingertips and threw the bottle aside. The guy reached back to lube his hole. My cock was rock solid.

When the guy put his elbows on the mattress and his ass in the air, I knew it was time. I placed my dick against his asshole without entering. The guy tightened, as if bracing for impact. I pulled back, and he relaxed. I started rocking my hips, nudging his puckered hole with each forward thrust. Tension built in my cock. Electricity filled the air. I could sense how badly he wanted my Big Johnson, so I gave it to him, thrusting myself deep inside him.

The instant connection was amazing, Casibom the most incredible sexual experience of my life. It was as if I could read his thoughts, and he could read mine. Even stranger, our thoughts were exactly the same. We both loved having sex with men and knew that we should be together but never could. It’s hard to explain to someone who wasn’t there. Pure, gay, animal, sexual energy surged through us.

Neither of us said a word. It wasn’t necessary. We just grunted, sharing our secret homosexuality together. We fucked him for a long time. I usually cum within seconds when I do guys, but this time I lasted probably five or six minutes. I wanted to keep pumping his ass as long as I could. Still, pressure built in my cock like a tire about to bust.

“I”m gonna cum,” I said, while gritting my teeth.

“Do it,” he said.

I let go, and my jizz poured into him. As I spurted, I could feel his ass walls soaking up my semen. At the same time, he reached for my wife’s teddy and shoved his cock into it. He rubbed his shaft up and down with the lacy fabric a few times. When he came, he shot all over the bra cups. I was inside him the whole time he was jacking off with my wife’s lingerie. I let him do it, and I loved it.

The ecstasy immediately evaporated when I pulled out. The feeling of connection was gone. It was replaced by shame. The familiar refrain in my head began:. “I’d done it again! I’d cheated on my wife and relapsed on alcohol.” I felt like a major loser.

The other guy wasn’t a problem. He knew the deal. He got dressed quietly and showed himself to the door. I heard his Mercedes start and drive off.

Shame filled every pore of my body, as I sat naked and alone in the bedroom.

But one thing I knew about shame is that I could transform it to the sleaziest imaginable sexual energy. So that’s what I did.

I threw on an old Houston Oilers T-shirt and cargo shorts. Then I chugged three more beers and started watching porn while pinching my nipples. It was a busy day on Grindr, and I quickly found another middle-aged married guy looking for fun. We had played two times before, both with me as the top. His name was Phil.

“I want to bottom this time,” I said.

“Cool,” he replied. “When?”

“Now,” I typed.

“Be there in half an hour,” he replied.

I chugged another beer and did a couple bong hits. My prick was stiff, and I punched up a new compilation on Pornhub. This one was three straight hours of women looking into the camera while getting fucked doggy style. I was falling deep into a sexual trance when my phone buzzed. It was a message on Grindr from the dude who had left my house 15 minutes earlier. He told me he was at the Starbucks down the road and wanted to know if Casibom Giriş I wanted to go for Round 2.

“Got another married guy coming in a few minutes,” I wrote. “Wanna make it a threesome?”

“Fuck yeah,” he replied. “Can I top this time?”

“Cool with me,” I wrote. “Let me check it out with my friend.”

I sent a message to Phil, letting him know of the opportunity. He was totally into it.

“Very fucking hot,” he wrote. “I am about 12 minutes out.”

I confirmed with the other guy.

“Come on over,” I typed.

“On my way,” he replied.

My heart started to race. It wasn’t everyday I had sex with two guys at once. I’d done it only twice before. One time I blew two guys at the same time, and I once gave two guys hand jobs. But this would be my first time doing anal with two guys at once. I needed to wear something special. I went to my wife’s lingerie drawer and dug until I found her black, lacy, Victoria’s Secret bra and matching boyshort panties. I stripped off my T-shirt and cargo shorts. Then I put on the bra, starting by hooking the clasps in front of me, then spinning the bra cups around to the front. It felt so sexy to slip my arms through the straps. Then I stepped into the panties and slipped them up my legs. Boyshort style was my favorite kind of panties, because I could fit my cock and balls into them. I arranged my cock so that the sensitive underside pressed against the sheer fabric.

Phil knocked first. I opened the door and handed him a beer.

“Let’s wait in the bedroom,” I said.

He quietly followed me down the hall. Even though we’d already fucked twice, we still didn’t say much to each other. Neither of us wanted to know much about the other. We were just sex objects to each other and wanted it to stay that way.

The other dude knocked less than two minutes later. I opened the door for him, and he followed me to the bedroom. By then, Phil had his back against the headboard and his legs sprawled out on the mattress. He was naked except for his boxer shorts, which had a tent pitched in them. The dude and Phil nodded at each other. Phil drained the last of his beer and set the empty can on the floor next to the bed.

I slid off the panties, crawled into the doggy style position on the bed and dropped the KY Jelly on the comforter next to me.

“Someone fuck me,” I said.

Phil nodded to the other guy.

“Go ahead,” Phil said.

The guy stripped off his now-rumpled white shirt and pulled down his pants and boxers. He stood there for a second with his fat, seven-inch prick pulsating. He still had that I-can’t-believe-I’m-doing-this-look on his face. I reached back to spread open my butt cheeks for him. He squirted some KY on my brown eye and tossed Casibom Güncel Giriş aside the bottle.

It took him a few pokes to find my hole, but once he did, it was an oh-my-god moment. Imagine a million unicorns shooting rainbow lasers into your asshole all at once. Exhilarating doesn’t begin to describe it, but it’s the best word I’ve got. I loved that this stranger had control over my body in the most intimate way. He grunted while he fucked me. I was just a piece of meat to him, a place to shove his cock- just the way I wanted it.

The guy was fucking me hard. His flesh was slapping against mine.

Phil, still sitting there on the bed, was loving it. He whipped out his cock and started stroking it. That must have set off the guy who was fucking me, because he suddenly blasted his load inside me. I felt his meat convulse, his goo splattering my ass tunnel. My cock dripped pre-cum as the guy pulled his cock out of my ass.

Phil had his eye on me. He had this devilish look.

“Flip over,” he said, “and spread eagle.”

I did as he said. Phil pulled off his boxers and positioned his body between my legs.

His eyes locked onto mine. Our minds became one.

“Do you like being gay?” he asked.

I felt his nine-inch schlong slipping between my butt cheeks. I gulped.

“Yes,” I said.

Phil smiled.

“Good,” he said.

Then he thrust his hips forward. His cock shot deep inside me. A fantastic jolt of ecstasy shot through my body.

“I want you to be my new wife,” he said. “Will you be my wife?”

He started pumping me.

“I’m yours, baby,” I said.

It’s hard to describe, but in that moment, we were gay-married. I am for gay marriage, but in “real life,” it’s not for me. I would never have a husband. But in that moment- high, drunk and horny as fuck- I had a deep connection to Phil that I never had with my wife. I know he felt it, too. His passion was palpable in his pumps. He leaned down to kiss me. I never kiss guys, but this time, I wanted it. I accepted his tongue with relish. He fucked me a little harder. I wondered when the last time he did his wife like this.

He took a few final pumps and blasted his load inside me. It was almost spiritual. If I were a chick, I definitely would have gotten pregnant.

Phil pulled out. He and the other guy dressed in silence. Both had definitely entered the post-cum-shame phase of the gay cheating experience. They just wanted to get out of there, and I didn’t blame them one bit. I’ve been in the same situation many times.

“You guys can go,” I said. “I’m going to cum later.”

They didn’t waste any time. Both hustled out the door.

My cock was still dripping pre-cum. Two strokes would have shot my load, but I wanted to save it. I wanted sex with another guy.

Long story short, I searched Grindr and watched porn for four more exhilarating hours but wasn’t able to find another guy. I ended up cumming on my own face around midnight. I cleaned up and fell asleep.

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