Finding Myself Ch. 02

Last year I discovered my enjoyment of gay sex. I'm Richard, a 45-year old married father of two teenage girls and a senior manager with a multinational company. I'd been increasingly interested in the idea of other men for months, and I finally got to live out my fantasies in a debauched night with two young German lads in Hamburg.

After that night I knew without any doubt that I was gay; what I'd done with Johnny and Tommy had been the greatest sex of my life, turning me on far more than any experience I'd ever had with a woman. By contrast, the couple of times I'd screwed my wife, Alison, since then had felt like a real chore. I still felt nervous about the revelation of my true nature though, and about doing anything about it. After all, I did still love Alison, and I felt I couldn't live with myself if she or my daughters, Pippa and Katie, found out that I was fucking other men behind their backs. For a few weeks I was constantly thinking about naked male bodies, but I didn't dare risk visiting the local red light district for fear of being discovered. I was beginning to think about inventing a business trip to London when an opportunity fell into my lap, as it were.

It was when I was on a trip, but an overnight to Belfast, not London. Even though Northern Ireland's a much safer place now than it was a few years ago I wasn't going to go sniffing around the streets for queers there! I'm a former rugby player, pretty solidly built, and I visit a health club fairly regularly -- I've lost nearly a stone in weight since Hamburg -- and my local membership also covers other branches, of which there was one near my hotel. I decided to spend an evening working out rather than working on the figures I should have been looking at. I spent about 90 minutes using the treadmill and various weight machines, and, if I'm honest, checking out some of the fit young male backsides, chests and bulging crotches around me.

Afterwards I had a shower, and as I was sitting in a small cubicle in the men's changing room, a towel wrapped around my waist, a guy across the room caught my eye and gave me a friendly nod. He was several inches shorter than me, maybe five-eight, and I immediately pegged him as a serviceman, from his short ginger-blond hair, his athletic build, several tattoos on his chest and arms, and the way he held himself. He was towelling himself down and was stark naked. He was clearly pretty fit, with a six-pack body, bulging biceps and muscular legs, and not bad looking either -- 30ish, with blue eyes, a small clipped ginger moustache, a freckled face, and an average sized uncircumcised cock. We exchanged nods and, slightly to my surprise he walked over to me and stood with his towel draped around his shoulders, standing about 18 inches from me. With a grin he said, in a strong Belfast accent, "I was watching you in the gym there, pretty impressive."

I thanked him and, having to concentrate hard on keeping my eyes on his face rather than the cock that was swaying in front of me, asked if I was right about his profession. He confirmed it, saying he was between tours of Afghanistan with his regiment. As we chatted he seemed to be inching closer towards me, hands on his hips, not in the least self-conscious about his nakedness, and it was a couple of minutes before it finally dawned on me that he was subtly coming on to me. I don't know what had given him the clue -- maybe the wistful way I'd been looking at the pretty young boys earlier -- but clearly his gaydar was better developed than mine.

When he was about a foot away from me, confident I wasn't taking much of a risk, I casually reached out my hand and brushed it across the tip of his cock. It instantly twitched to semi-erection, and with a big grin he stepped closer still and, his eyes on my face, reached behind him and pulled a curtain across the opening of the cubicle, hiding us from anyone else in the changing room. He angled his hips towards me and without any hesitation I slipped my lips over his shaft. The familiar feel of the soft-hard dick pressing into my mouth was wonderful, and as I sucked and licked him I reached my hands around him and kneaded his small hard buttocks. He in turn placed his hands on my head, pushing me onto him, and whispered encouragements along the lines of "Oh yeah baby, suck me, that's so good". After a couple of minutes I could sense he was about to cum and I sat back and finished him with my hand, pumping him with our eyes locked together until he splattered onto my chest.

After that he sat down next to me in the tiny cubicle and wanked me to orgasm while we kissed. He was a good kisser, his moustache tickling me, his tongue sweeping lazily around my mouth and tangling with my own tongue. Afterwards I invited him back to my hotel but he said his wife was expecting him home. Any last doubts I'd had about my enjoyment of cock were blown away by that encounter, and I knew I was going to have to do something about getting it on a regular basis, even if that meant visiting our local dodgy red light district. As it turned out, that didn't prove necessary.

My younger daughter, Katie, had recently found herself a new boyfriend. He was a bit older than her -- Paul's 20, Katie's just turned 18 -- and seemed a nice enough lad. About 5-10 tall with a pleasant face and neatly trimmed brown hair, he was studying at the local college, and earning extra money by working part-time as a labourer on building sites. I'd met him a couple of times, and not sensed anything, but the third time was different. That was one evening when he came round to take Katie out. I'd recently got home from work and was just out of the shower when the doorbell rang; but my wife was out somewhere, and Katie wasn't ready, so grumbling to myself I pulled on a mid-thigh length silk dressing gown and clumped down the stairs to let Paul in.

Playing the good host I sat him down in the lounge and offered him a drink -- he asked for orange juice -- then sat opposite him to indulge in small-talk until my daughter finally emerged. I didn't realise that my short gown was showing off my meat and two veg until I noticed that Paul's eyes kept flicking down there, and he suddenly seemed tongue-tied. As soon as I did realise, my cock started to swell, and Paul's face started turning red in response. The spark of a wicked thought entered my brain and, casually, I sat back in my big arm chair and crossed my ankle over the knee of my other leg. The effect was to make the silk material slide halfway up my thigh, and give our guest a grandstand view of my crown jewels.

I thought for a moment that the poor lad's eyes were going to pop out of his head! He did his best to keep looking me in the face, but he couldn't resist flicking quick glances down between my legs and he seemed very hot and uncomfortable. That was when I knew for certain: he wasn't simply embarrassed, or thinking I was a berk, he really wanted to get a better look at my dick. I found it hard to keep a grin off my face but I pretended not to notice and sat chatting innocently until I heard Katie approaching. I stood and greeted her at the door to the room and she gave me a bit of a funny look about my attire but I simply shrugged helplessly. After they left I sat in my chair again and sipping my whisky, thought some very deep thoughts.

The following morning, over breakfast, I suggested Katie invite Paul over on Sunday for a pool party. It had been a warm summer and we have a nice, decent sized swimming pool in our back garden. Quite often in the summer the family next door come round and we have a barbecue and swim. Katie seemed a bit down, saying Paul had been in a funny mood all the previous evening, but that she'd ask him. That night, when she said he'd like to come, I felt extremely pleased. Sitting in my home office, gazing at a computer image of a naked boy about Paul's age, I told myself I wasn't planning to make a move on him -- that would be far too risky if I'd misread him, especially right in front of my family -- but at least I'd get to see his body dressed only in a pair of swimming trunks.

On the day I put a few bottles of sparkling wine on ice to chill and my neighbour Stewart came round to set up the barbecue. We had quite a turnout, with five in Stewart's family, plus Paul, and even my elder daughter, Pippa, was home from university for the weekend. I wore a small, tight pair of trunks, to the disgusted embarrassment of my daughters, but I was disappointed when Paul emerged in shorts. Still, he had a nice chest, hairless with decent pecs, good biceps and athletic legs. A couple of times I made sure I was in the pool at the same time as him, and once I even managed to accidentally brush the back of my hand across his chest.

After an hour or so I went inside to uncork another bottle of plonk when I heard a sound from above. Wondering who was up there I walked silently up the stairs and paused with my jaw hanging open at what I saw. It was Katie and Paul; they hadn't even bothered to go into her room, there on the landing Paul was standing naked with my 18-year old daughter, in her bikini, squatting in front of him, noisily sucking his knob! Neither of them saw me -- Paul's eyes were screwed tightly shut -- and I crept away. What I'd seen hadn't knocked my confidence in what I believed about him, but I actually found myself feeling jealous of Katie that it was her lips around her boyfriend's cock rather than mine!

A few hours later Paul said he'd better be going, and went to the little shower/changing room we've built on the back of the house to serve the pool. I gave him a few minutes then quietly slipped after him. None of the others noticed, they were all chattering, drinking their wine and chomping on burnt sausages and chicken wings.

I slipped into the concrete room just as Paul emerged from the shower. My eyes instantly fell to his dick which looked lovely, about the same size as mine and circumcised. He looked like a rabbit caught in headlights as I casually slipped off my trunks and stood chatting to him. Once again his eyes strayed several times to my treasures, and his cock began to twitch towards an erection. Seemingly realising it his face turned bright scarlet and he turned quickly away and started to vigorously dry himself. That gave me a perfect view of his slim pale bum. Christ, I was so turned on that I nearly stepped across and started feeling him up right there, but I was too scared of being caught, the way I'd caught Katie with Paul earlier.

I found it difficult to get the image of Paul's nude body out of my head in bed that night; that and his face as my daughter sucked him off. In some ways I felt quite guilty about what I was planning to do; after all, Paul; was Katie's boyfriend, and I didn't want to hurt her; but at the same time I was very attracted to him, and I had a definite impression the feeling was mutual.

Mid-morning on Monday I phoned Paul's mobile, having copied the number from Katie's phone. He obviously didn't know my number so I introduced myself then, trying hard to sound very casual, I asked him "I wondered if you might fancy meeting up with me for a quiet drink sometime?" There was a very long silence -- I noticed he hadn't asked why I'd issued my invitation -- and I was just beginning to think he'd maybe hung up when he mumbled that he wasn't sure. Breezily I responded "Okay, well have a think about it and let me know, okay?" I kept him on the line until he promised me that yes, he would think about it. Oh well, I told myself, at least he hadn't refused outright. Impatient for an answer, I phoned him again that evening from our home landline. On seeing the number he assumed it was Katie calling and answered quite breezily. I corrected him. "No Paul, it's Richard again. I wondered if you'd thought any more about our drink?"

Another long pause, then he muttered "I don't know, I mean I'm not sure. I don't know if it would be..." A further pause then, "Okay, yes, I'll meet you." We agreed to meet on Thursday afternoon and, my pulse racing with excitement I gave him the name of a city centre hotel and told him to ask for me at reception. It's a place where my company often rents rooms for meetings. The next couple of days seemed to drag, but on the Wednesday I called Paul again to make sure he hadn't changed his mind. He still sounded very nervous -- I got the impression he was with someone and couldn't speak freely -- but he said he would be there. On the Thursday I got to the hotel over an hour early and sat waiting for Paul. I couldn't remember ever being more nervous. I mean, suppose, despite everything, I had misread him and he had no idea I was gay? What if he'd misinterpreted my invite and thought I was checking him out as a prospective son-in-law? Maybe he'd even mentioned the invite to Katie, to ask her if she knew what I wanted. Or perhaps he'd mentioned it to vindictively destroy my relationship with my family.

Just as I was working myself towards a fit of paranoia the room phone rang, making me jump, and I was told a Mr Andrews was here to see me. I asked them to tell him to have a seat, uncorked the wine I'd chosen, had a 10-second splash under the shower, pulled on and loosely belted a towelling dressing gown, splashed on some eau de cologne, took a slug of the wine, took a deep breath, then called Reception and asked them to send my visitor up to see me. After about a minute there was a light tap on the door. I invited him in and Paul entered, closed the door and stood looking nervously at me. He looked great, in a white T-shirt and a pair of jogging pants, secured around the waist with a cord.

Smiling encouragingly I invited him to sit, on the bed, not one of the chairs, and poured us both a glass of wine. We sat silently sipping our drinks, Paul stiff and apparently terrified, and I realised with alarm that I had given no thought to how to start our meeting. Finally I placed my glass on the floor, took his and put it down, then, inclining my upper body towards him, asked, "Paul, do you like men?"

He pretended to laugh and, his voice cracking with nervousness, said "Yeah, of course I do."

Smiling, and leaning a little closer towards him, I half-whispered, "I mean, do you really like men? Prefer them to women? Find yourself sexually attracted to them?"

He looked at me miserably and actually started to wring his hands. I thought for a moment he was going to burst into tears. Finally he groaned "No...I mean, I've had...thoughts, it's natural, a stage boys go through, but, well, it's wrong."

I imagined he was quoting one of his parents. I leaned closer still; my breath ruffled his hair. "Why is it wrong Paul? After all, you can't help who you find attractive, can you? And anyway, if it's natural then it can't really be wrong, can it?" He opened his mouth to speak then closed it again and stared at his hands. Pressing my advantage, I murmured, "I know you're attracted to men Paul. I've seen you looking at my cock." He didn't move a muscle and I unbelted my dressing gown and shrugged it off. "There you are Paul, now you can see it properly."

His head remained down but, despite his efforts, his eyes swivelled towards my semi-erect organ. I reached out and took one of his wrists. He resisted for a moment, then let me pull his hand towards me, following it with his eyes, and gave a huge sigh as I wrapped his fingers around my tool. His hand was cool and felt wonderful on my fevered flesh. My lips almost brushing his ear, I whispered, "How does that feel?"

After a pause, in a tiny voice he said, "It feels good."

My stomach somersaulted with excitement as I finally realised it really was going to happen -- I was going to get to screw my daughter's boyfriend. Trying to keep my voice steady, I told him, "What's going to happen now Paul, is that I'm going to strip you naked, then I'm going to take your cock in my mouth and suck it till you cum. Just like Katie does."

He stared at me with eyes as big as dinner plates, and obediently cooperated as I removed his shirt, shoes, socks, jogging pants and, finally, his briefs. Then I eased his legs up onto the bed and cupped a hand around his balls, causing him to give a huge shudder. As I took him in my mouth he rested an arm across his eyes and gave a sigh of pleasure. Each time I stroked my tongue around the tip of his dick he groaned so I concentrated on that, while also licking and sucking his entire length and his scrotum. After a couple of minutes he muttered "I'm cumming", and I concentrated on sucking his balls while wanking him to a finish. Once he'd stopped bucking around I lay beside him and took him in my arms. Unable to resist, I whispered, "Am I better at that than Katie?"

His face turned red then he slowly nodded. "Yes. Yes you are, that was great." I positively beamed at that response.

We spent several hours in that room, and Paul's confidence steadily grew. When I fucked him it was fantastic, his arse so tight that it felt truly wonderful. While I recovered we kissed -- his lips and tongue were as soft as a woman's -- then he went down on me. It was his first time but he clearly enjoyed the experience, and I was surprised that he finished me off with his mouth and swallowed. His cock was rock hard then, so I think that had been one of his big fantasies. He was a bit reluctant at first to fuck me, but I encouraged him and he did it from the front, with my legs locked around his back as I talked dirty to him.. At the end, both pretty exhausted, we showered together, which ended up with me sucking him again, and making him roar with arousal as I thrust a finger up his bum as he came. As we left the room he gave me a big hug and a kiss on the lips and, with tears in his eyes, whispered, "Thank you Richard, that was fantastic". I was so moved that I felt a lump in my throat!

I did feel guilty about sleeping with Katie's boyfriend, but within a few weeks she'd dumped him, saying he was boring. Personally I've never found him boring(!); we meet regularly and Paul is getting better and better at pleasuring me, while I love screwing his cute arse and sucking him. He's a pretty lad, and really enjoys gay sex, so I'm not sure how long I'll be able to keep him, but while he's mine I'm going to enjoy every minute I can get with him.