His Secret Passion

I am mystified by people who deny the existence of love between two men. If two people find love and happiness together, how can anyone else, mostly strangers at that, condemn them with mindless slogans, and open, visceral hatred?

Their behavior is truly mind-boggling. Why does it bother some people when they see two men in love? Why do they think they have the right to intrude in other human beings lives?

When I get worked-up like this, Gregory laughs and tells me: "Don't waste your beautiful mind over such trivial matters—those people can't see any further than the nose on their faces, and they never will...if they want to live their lives in a vacuum, and willful ignorance—that is their sad and pathetic prerogative."

Gregory asked if I wanted anything special for our anniversary.

"Perhaps..." he said, "a night with Linda as our Slave-Girl?"

I smiled and said, "I want a quiet dinner with you, and afterwards—a hasty retreat to the bedroom—just you and me together."

I very rarely think about my ex-wife. When I thought I loved her I was a naïve boy. I was in love with the 'thought' of being in love with her, if you know what I mean.

Gregory and I have attended a few company functions where I briefly spoke with her. She was still a beautiful woman with a body to match, but there was something different about her. Her smile and laughter didn't seem to come very easily to her anymore.

I'd heard the rumors that she'd become the company whore; and that she lived-with, and belonged-to Marcia, but none of that interested me. In all honesty, my memories of our time together were fading and flickering like a candle in a breeze.

I snuggled-up to Gregory as he drove us to the restaurant; his manly cum still fresh on my tongue. A feeling of euphoria swept over me. I smiled in the darkness of the car.

He had awakened and nurtured my secret passion and I was giddy with joy and happiness.

I leaned over and whispered in his ear, "I love you, Gregory...."