Ready

From Tuesday night to Monday morning. Five full days. I knew they would be long days. Frustrating in their way. Full of anticipation. With some work to be done. First off trying - get the time off, time off so there would be more time than just the nights. Thank you state job, I had a lot of comp days. All earned. Not fake. So on Wednesday I asked to take Tuesday through Friday off. Request granted. Of course, I promised not to take time off between Christmas and New Year’s. I tell her that it was a mandate from on high. She would understand. Somehow in recent years, I had gotten that message from her – funny around the time same time of year, an excuse not to go out to Arizona to be with parents. I never objected. This year, her excuse for our not going would be me and my work. Nice.

The Depends were working well. I did not have the “accidents” I was afraid of. Maybe that was not something to work about as a growing fist pig. And they fit well enough to be invisible under my office clothes and time-off clothes at home. No sounds of plastic.”

And damn, my hole felt so good. So very good. And was so very hungry. I felt like writing a book, The Very Hungry Asshole. Open holes would be a real part of the book. But not for children, though, it would be an education.

And I did not mind that the wife was excited about travelling with Joanie. It intrigued me. A lot. An alternate fantasy to the one that dominated my thoughts. That fantasy, not surprising, of coming out, becoming free to be out. Life free and gay. I knew that real life intruded even into that – like having to earn a income. Home chores. Errands… living free and living gay was not 24/7 sex. Surely my experience as a straight guy – how long had I thought of myself as that? – had shown me that could be the case, and was for me, the case. Entirely humdrum. Always that possibility. But maybe that involved being married, and I was not likely to go from one marriage to another. Not that I thought there was any problem with gay marriage. I would be the wife. Wasn’t that role of the bottom. And that was me. Though how cool was it that I had fisted Theo/Thor? Then, why did gay marriage have to be what were for so long only straight, gendered roles. Weren’t we in a world with more than two genders? And where if you made enough distinctions no single “group” or “gender” was in the majority?

All I knew right now was that I had to get to Monday night from now.

What a week. That Tuesday session had done a number on my hole. And achieving that prolapse, fuck. Cool. What have wanted. Now have. I went on line to study what I could do to manage it. Keep it. Grow it. And yet not become incontinent. I love it. At least so far. This was what it was meaning to me to be gay man, a faggot, a pig. And I knew I was addicted to this hole play, to cock, to bareback, and would remain now an all-loads pig.

Would I tell her when she got back? Would all hell break loose? Something to focus on for sure. We will see. Maybe the one day at a time mantra is in order?

Four weekdays with the weekend. Then Monday night. I would have to set up the week. Get back in though with Theo. See what was possible with him. Take advantage of any “free” time between now and then. Especially important as my lust only seemed to grow.

How much my mind was dominated about thoughts of what had been and what was to be, thoughts that intruded into the necessity of thinking about and living in the present. Funny, we are living only in a set of never repeated present moments assigned quickly to the past. Yet, the past is now and so is the present as every thought is in the present. And so, my present is all these things.

The wondering about what had happened. The sexuality of my past. The choices made. The memory of a few tentative gay sexual moments. Then heterosexuality seemed the choice. A few women in college. A broken engagement. An affair with a friend’s wife. Then sex with a woman going through divorce whose hottest fantasy was watching me get fucked by a black mand. How aroused I got! Should I have read that differently than I did at the time. Probably. Then the mad rush of sex followed by marriage and then a withering away of sex. The discovery of gay sex in an ABS near home. Watching hetero vids. Stroking in the open booths. The quick view in by other men. My seeing their interest. My quick looking away…

Then, what the hell, looking at bi-sex videos. What in the made my erection seem quicker, harder. My turning away from the look of those men and bit slower? My pushing my pants all the way down, then stepping out of them entirely. Not hiding my cock when men looked. Cumming in front of them. But not looking.

I went to the ABS maybe twice a week then. It was across the street from a factory. I went when the wife went to work. No reason not to have cum when she got home. Not when all there was now - a perfunctory kiss, and her having now interest in my touching her body. The good news was that I could get there around the time of the shift change/end of office hours at the major factory across the street. Burly factory workers, white, black, Hispanic, and managers, almost all white. But, I was asking myself, what did that matter. I was there to watch men fuck women, and, yes, hot bi videos with men sucking cock and fucking, and yes, my now cumming openly, which I liked to do with another man looking.

Then, the time right before I shot my load, my looking up, making eye contact, keeping eye contact. A hot Hispanic man. His cock out too. Being stroked. He looked down at my cock. I looked down at his. We made eye contact again. Our cocks were hard, Heads shining. Drops of pre-cum. He winked. I winked back. What was I doing? Doing? Taking the next step t get to where I am now.

He said, “May I?”

I said, “Yes.”

And fuck, if we did not embrace. Cocks touching. I went to my knees. Took his cock. Swirled my tongue around the head to catch any drops of pre-cum. I looked up. A wedding ring on his hand. One on mine.

“Nice, buddy.”

“Yeah,” my mouth full of his cock.

Yeah, that was the beginning. And no more bi porn at the ABS. Why would I bother with that? All-male. And after that first time, at least two hook-ups a week. For how long? Long enough. And after being fucked in the ABS once with a condom… the next man who took my hole, and every man since, bareback. At the ABS, in the woods, at my home, their place… a lot of bareback, a lot of loads, and I did not care about no sex at home… well, after the first couple of times being fisted, yes, I did think about be pegged/fisted at home. Like that was going to happen.

Back to now.

So, my work, it had to take over. Planning the new bus routes that would connect with CT Fasttrak. How to make those connections.

Yeah, those connections. Did that get my mind back on connecting with men? With next Monday? For sure.

And next week. Next week. Fuck

Part of the bus planning involved getting out in the field to talk to bus riders. Our system’s riders were not so easily surveyed by e-questionnaires. And consultants’ questionnaires. I thought they were good, but not that good. And, of course, they were designed to drive new work to them. So, I spent some time the week before the week in the field, out of the office. My boss loved the idea of making this work personal.

I did worry about, well, you know. So, I was usually in my Depends. I was growing in like them. They certainly gave you a feeling of confidence that you would not get wet stains on your paints. But you still had to know where to go if you had to make a quick change. But, was I getting into the smell of shit? Maybe I was. And I did wonder what Thor would feel about that.

I would ask the next time we texted about the week ahead. And he was lobbying for a get together. I did tell him the busway would be running to New Britain and that there would be a hub and spoke system of feeders. The terminus was in walking distance of his place. I told him I would work on making something happen, even if just for a drink, though he did say it would be fun to have that drink at the “club.” My challenge was to make the time work.

Janie solved that problem for me. She called my wife to get some time on Friday night for a planning session. I wondered why they needed to plan, but, hell, I could make use of the time. Their planning session would be after work and run to, she said, at least 10. I asked by Janie’s husband had a problem with that. My wife told me no. I told her I didn’t either.

This was on Thursday at 8 p.m. My hole was getting back to something like the old “normal.” I was not liking that so much. Though I liked the growing desire. Fuck, the desire was there all the time.

I texted Theo:

WERE I FREE THIS FRIDAY AT 5:30?.MEET?

YES.

OK. I HAVE UNTIL 8:30.

WE CAN SQUEEZE IN A DRINK OR TWO AND SOME SNACKS.

GOOD IDEA.

HEY, BOB, LOVE YOU.

YOU DO?

YES.

WOW.

TEXT ME WHEN YOU ARE LEAVING HOME.

I WILL.

LOOKING FORWARD TO IT.

THEO…

YES?

SOME AM I.

WHY?

DARE I SAY?

WHY NOT?

WELL…

WELLS ARE FOR WATER…

I AM…

YEAH?

FOR YOU.

FOR ME?

TO GUIDE, TAKE.

I WILL.

I CAN’T WAIT.

I KNOW. I KNOW. I KNOW. I DON’T WANT TO EITHER. YOU HAVE REIGNITED SOMETHING FOR ME.

I HOPE SO.

YEAH. I AM READY TO…

YES?

LOVE ANOTHER PERSON.

ME TOO!

DO!

I’M IN NEW BRITAIN RIGHT NOW. NO TIME FOR THE CLUB. BUT… COFFEE SOMEPLACE?

WHERE ARE YOU?

THE PLANNED BUSWAY TERMINUS. I HAVE MY CAR.

MY PLACE. NOW!

I’M THERE.

I was. In ten minutes. In front of that door. I did not have to knock. There was Thor. There. Opening the door. Standing at the side of the door. Nude. Erect. Beckoning me in. The room in a special red light. He took my hand. Kissed me. Closed the door.

“Hi, Bob.”

“Thor.”

“Get comfortable. A beer? I am having one.”

“Sure.”

“I’ll bring some munchies.”

“Great. Room looks good.”

“Thanks. Back in a flash.”

I could feel my hole twitching. This man. I was nude. My clothes left on a chair. I did not want to be fumbling on the way out. Today was a regular underwear day. I was shaking with desire. My cock rising. I had brought a cock ring. My hole.

He brought the beer in, the munchies. We clinked glasses. We ate some munchies. I wanted to touch him. But… first some conversation? No. He was down on my cock. Hungry. Sucking like a man in lust, maybe in love, wanting it fully, wanting my cum.

“Hey, Thor, fuck, I am close.”

He did not stop. My orgasm was explosive. He swallowed. Taking me into him. He rose up. He had saved some cum. We snowballed. Shared. Then continued to make out like teenagers. Wildly. Tongues busy. We pulled apart. He open my mouth. Spit in it, then engulfed my lips with his. Passion.

Finally a pause.

“Bob, so good to see you.”

He paused to take a drink, to grab a handful of munchies. I drank. Then went down on his nipples. That was the snack I wanted. I broke to take another drink. He took a drink.

“Turn around, Theo.”

He did. I took his ass in my hand. Then went for his hole. I wanted that hole. I breathed in the muskiness of this man’s hole. Damn. He handed me a bottle of poppers. How did he know I wanted to popper up? I did. I huffed. Felt the hit. Went back to make love to his hole. To kiss it. Tongue it. He put his hands back to open the access. That helped to show me his rosebud, the beautiful, blood-infused leavers of his cunt.

“Fuck, Theo. Fuck.”

“Yes, Bob. Take it. Take my cunt.”

I did with my lips and tongue. I heard him take some popper hits. I saw him hand back some lube. I knew what I wanted to do – what I had done that first time here. I wanted to that rosebud to be mine. Now. Boy Butter. My fingers. Probing, twirling. Lubing. My face wet with the wetness and lube. Fingers fucking him. I have my hand for him to suck my fingers. I sucked them. We were feeding on his juices. More huffs. I lubed up my hand. My cock. I had to put my cock in this man. It responded. Hard. Entering. We fucked.

He huffed. I huffed. I stopped fucking him. I began to re-lube my right hand.

“I love you, Bob. Fist me. Please.”

“Yes, Theo.”

“Will you love me? I feel like I am taking a chance even asking you. We have only known each other for a short time? Am I crazy?”

“Yes. No. No, you are not crazy. Yes. I can. I have never loved a man. But, I think…” All the while I had been working is hole. Three fingers, four, then the duck-billed five. He was opening again for me. I was putting more pressure on. “But I think…” My hand started to go in, fully, “I think I am falling in love with you, Theo. Ah… I am in you. Fuck. Perfect.”

“Perfect, Bob. Yes. Fist me.”

I did. But this time with a different passion than that first time. This time to explore. To get to know this man. His body. To, in a way, worship that body. Running my free hand over the cheeks of his ass, reaching to caress his hard cock, to feel its excitement, desire. Capturing some drops of pre-cum. To run that hand along his back, over his shoulders. But never, ever taking my hand from his cunt, not wanting to stop feeling that incredible warmth, and when I paused, the incredible feeling his heart beating, for me? For me, For him? For love. I took my hand.

“This is so beautiful, Bob.”

“I want it to be?”

“You do?”

“Yes. Fisting, but with…”

“Yes?”

I continued to be in, to be out, to piston, but with care. Clenching my fist when in him. Holding it as I pulled out. Clenching now as I pushed in.

He asked, “With?”

“Theo?”

“Yes, Bob.”

I paused with me clenched fist in this man’s rectum.

“Yes, Bob. Bob. I love you?”

“Theo…”

“Yes, Bob?”

“I…”

His hole, his pussy, his cunt was so, so, so the center of my world. So, right now, was he.”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

With that a pulled my clenched fist from his loose hole. Then fucked him. Bred him.

I held on to this man. I held him. We spooned. Finally my cock slid out of his. We were wet. With love. I held him. Kissed his neck. He managed to turned so we were face to face. We kissed.

“You do?”

“I do.”

“I so hope this lasts.”

“Theo, I hope so too. Love… amazing.

“Yes.”

“Theo, hold me. Please.”

He did. It is like we were one. And we were like teenagers. First passion. First love.

We stayed nude. We talked. About his life. About mine. About how he always knew he was gay. His partners. Finally, his marriage. I talked about my journey. My marriage. And we talked about what was next. First about next week and how he wanted me to be with him as much as possible. I told him I wanted the same thing.

Then hugging, kissing. Two nude men. He asked if he could, at least, fuck me.

“Of course, please.” I did want this man in me. His seed.”

We left the living room and went back to the room with the sling.

“Get in Bob.”

I did. I wanted nothing more than to be in that sling, with this man, my hole exposed, open. I checked the time. It was 7:30.

“Theo. We have an hour.”

“Maybe you will be late.”

Maybe I would be. I would have to see. I was in love with this man. I did not want to go. Yes, I wanted sex, sex with him, but yes, I wanted more time to talk. But… right now, sex first.

“Please Theo?”

“Yes?

“Make love to me?”

“Love? Yes. Lover.”

I leaned back in the sling. I felt him lude by hole. I felt his cock caress my ass lips. I felt his cock enter me. We made love. Time stopped. Although it didn’t. But I took off my watch.