“And how about you, Peter? As I recall you were chatting online before with… other men. Is that still going on?” The marriage counsellor looks at me over her grandmotherly glasses.

Sitting on the couch, I clutch my wife’s hand. “Oh no,” I chuckle. “Just Facebook now.”

“And what have you learned about yourself? I mean, besides–”

That I'm bisexual?

I smile at her, being sure to crinkle my eyes a little to make it look natural. “Maybe I need to reconnect with some friends,” I say. I rehearsed this in a mirror. “Working from home, I don’t have any co-workers and it gets lonely sometimes.”

My wife chimes in, “Unless you count three screaming kids.” We laugh and I hug her close.

Cheater! My mind screams. Liar! How can you say you love her? I bite my lower lip and maintain eye contact. I do love her. I feel out of control. It started as a lifetime of curiosity, an it was supposed to end with an I’ll-try-anything band aid fix for my depression. Now I can’t stop. The best I can manage is to protect my family and the woman I love from my dark secret. I feel completely alone.

“Let me tell you something,“ says the counsellor, putting her notepad in her lap. "You two are just about the most open minded couple I’ve ever seen, all considered. You’ve come a long way since February. I can really see the closeness you have together, and it always brightens my day when you come in. If you’d like, I can see Jennifer alone next time. Next Thursday at 3?”

I’m not surprised. Even with everything going on, I have been feeling better lately. With the help ofa mild antidepressant, I can dip into a well of happiness whenever I smile.

My wife, on the other hand, has been stuck at home for a year with two preschoolers and a baby. She’s anxious, so tightly-wound that everything sets her off. A popcorn maker left on the counter from our “date night” instils, without warning, a seething rage the next day. After the kids have climbed all over her, she doesn’t want to be touched. She needs a break. After 5pm, I take care of them and give her some time off, every day. There is no time for beer with friends, and there won’t be for a very long time.

At least I don’t have to visit the marriage counsellor next week. 

That’s when my first gay threesome is scheduled.

“I’m bringing together two previous characters,” I tell one Grindr buddy, “The 5-minute kid and the engaged guy.” Adam and Jack. It’s surreal. I feel like a puppet-master.

“So jealous ;),” he writes back. “Lemme know when it’s on your blog.”

It’s exciting – the 20yo Adam is sexually charged. And I loved chatting about married life with Jack. I wouldn’t mind getting together for coffee with him as his wedding approaches.

Hookups are a lot like public speaking. After the first few awkward attempts, you become natural and relaxed. When the day comes, I’m casual. I get a lot of work done in the morning.

By noon, it turns out that Adam has to work until 4 and can’t meet at 3 as promised. And he needs a ride.

I drive down to where he works and he squeezes into my tiny car. The young Caucasian has slick black hair and he’s built like a football player. He tries to push his seat back, but it’s blocked by the baby seat behind it. 

As we drive, he’s a ball of energy.

“My mom and sister were gone this weekend,” he tells me, “So I drove to Timberville and had sex!” He holds up his phone, sporting a young man in a black shirt. “It was this dude. Did you ever talk to him?”

Being smaller than University Town, Timberville’s population is starving for sex. Late at night, 18 year-olds often contact me, but there are easier pickings locally.

“Just a sec,” he says, and Snapchats a photo of himself. “Okay, who was the waiter? Was it him?” He scrolls through an ensemble of baseball-cap wearing dudes and I say no to each one. “Come on, I wanna know! Wait, Bi guy is saying we have to hurry, his room-mate’s coming back at 5.”

It’s 4:30 when we pull up next to the apartment building. The asian man paces anxiously in the lobby.

We quickly pile into the elevator and he tells us our cover story. “If my roommate comes back, you guys are my beach volleyball buddies. Got it?”

“Yeah, sure!”

“Just nod and go with it.”

We go into his spartan bedroom and quickly strip. We’re on the bed. Jack lays back and Adam engulfs he penis. Moments later I jump on him, straddle his face, and shove into his mouth.

“Oh gahg gyeah,” Jack manages to utter, but his mouth is full of my penis. He sucks on it eagerly. I can’t believe I’m in a fucking threesome. Jack’s having a lot of fun, it seems, as his familiar moans get more urgent.

“Ugh kay guys I’m gonna cum,” he sputters. I pull out to watch. Adam holds Jack’s penis up and a moment later it erupts powerfully. Jack shoots himself in the face and all down his chest, then lays there gasping, chest heaving.

It looks delicious. I dive in and get what I can from his leaking penis, then lap his warm sperm off of his his toned abs.

Adam watches and slowly moves his foreskin up and down his thick cock. I have an idea.

“Hey guys, last time I was here, I choked on Jack’s cock.”

“Yeah I read that, I’m sorry.”

“And now,” I grin evilly, “I think it’s time for a little payback.”

“What?! ”Jack’s eyes widen in shock.

“I want you to suck his cock,” I order. “And I want you to make him gag on it!”

They both stare at me, Jack in growing horror, and Adam with a sly grin. The kid spreads his legs and lets his thick penis flop down under its own massive weight.

“Okay, whatever, I’m game.” says Jack, and rolls over to his task.

Jack bobs his head up and down, and Adam sits back and enjoys it.

“That’s not good enough,” I tell them. I can still remember nearly vomiting as Jack obliviously plunged down my throat with his full bodyweight last week. “Come on, make him gag!” I command. I put my palm on his head and shove. Immediately I hear the muffled gurgle and I know it’s working.

It turns me on, and I’m horrified that it does. I don’t show it though. “That’s enough.” I let him up. He coughs and wipes his eyes. ”Now it’s my turn.”

I bend down and grab Adam’s penis, pull his foreskin up around my tongue, and swirl around. His taste is gone already, so I start blowing him. Moment’s later, he’s humping me from below. We fall out of sync so he grabs my head. It works, and I feel him shooting, filling my mouth with his sperm.

I’m the only game in town now, and both of them take turns sucking on me. But I came too recently, so help them out.

“Where should I cum?” I ask.

“On my chest,” Jack offers immediately.

I kneel over him, my butt to his neck, and start shooting. Then I just keep going.

When I’m done, I hear Adam snigger.

“Oh wow,” Jack says.

It’s like he’s been sunbathing in thunder shower. I’ve covered Jack’s whole chest with thick drops of cum. They start to pool under his pecs.

“Yeah, uh, sorry man,” I say, grinning proudly. He starts to wipe himself with a tissue, then gives up and goes to the bathroom for a towel.

Adam and I pull on our shorts and continue our conversation from the drive over. When Jack comes back with two gnome-mugs full of water, we’re talking about anal intercourse.

“It’s just not something I’ve ever fantasized about,” I tell him. “I can never meet up with a lot of guys again, because they want anal.”

Jack herds us towards the pile of shoes near the door.

“Don’t do it,” Adam tells me. “It just hurts for the first few inches. And with Asians… I mean if his cock isn’t long enough, that’s all you get.”

“But you’re a bottom, right?” Jack says. “You’re just trying to keep all the fun for yourself.”

Adam laughs, unable to keep a straight face. “Yeah, I am.”

“Would you like anything else? More water?!” Jack asks, making increasingly panicked glances toward the door.

“Um, no, I guess we should go now?” I suggest.

I drive Adam back through the 5pm traffic, and we chat about work and life, but mostly about sex. It turns out he's gotten paid for sex quite often.

"Yup," he says, "I would have done it for free. But the guy offered me thirty bucks so I did it for 50. He just wanted to blow me anyway."

I'm flattered he didn't ask me for anything. It’s wonderful to be able to share with someone, and I’m disappointed when he gets out at the bus stop. I can’t help thinking I’ve made two new friends. Or at least the beginnings of buddy-ship.

The next morning when I check my phone, I get a message from Jack.

“Hey Pete, I’m going to uninstall grindr now. I think it’s time for me to stop playing around and get settled down with my fiancee. Thanks for the fun time we had ;)”

I smile, recalling the previous afternoon. I’m sad to lose him, and happy for his new life. Plus, for the next while at least, I am the last man to cum on him.


Pete Gentle

[email protected]


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