Looking for a Husband

"You're good," he told me. "Faggots love cock. My wife never does me like that," he went on, again giving me strange sense of pride by my efforts as a 'faggot'.

At home that night things were really bad between Susie and me. While I enjoyed sucking the man off earlier in the day there was still a fair amount of guilt and shame facing Susie, even though we had already decided to get divorced. We never really discussed me being gay; she asked if I was gay but I was very hesitant and non-committal with my answers which pretty much told her that I was gay, though I never fully admitted it. Guess I was chicken shit about coming out; everyone has to deal with coming out in their own way.

In my heart I was so gay and femme inside and knew I would be very happy in a romantic relationship with another man, it was not something I had the nerve to tell Susie. She had a pretty good idea and made comments in the past that she thought I had gay mannerisms and how her friends had the impression that I was gay. A friend once told me never, ever tell a woman you had an affair, it will change everything and she will never forgive or trust you ever again. Think what her reaction would be if you let on you had sex with another man?

The guy who I sucked off messaged me the next day that his wife was still out of town and wanted me to come over again. With all the chaos in my head over the divorce, the thought of sucking the guy's cock again was very appealing and a very good way to disassociate myself from Susie as a decadent sexual escape. Once I made it over at the guys house the next day, I felt nervous yet exhilarated about what I was going to do. This time I approached it from the aspect of what I felt inside. When we got inside the guy's bedroom and he was taking off his clothes I excused myself and went to the bathroom. Under my clothes I had worn some lingerie and I had brought along a small knapsack with a wig and some high heels, plus a little makeup.

My toes were painted bright pink and looked sexy in my strappy high heel sandals. In a matched set of dusty rose color half camisole and thin flimsy pair of taupe pant shorts/panties I was already half hard once I had the brunette wig in place and applied some lipstick. The sexual rush I felt dressing sexy for another man was incomparable, it felt amazing to feel so femme knowing it was all about sex. It's a strange dynamic being gay and feminine for a man, such an overwhelmingly powerful homosexual stimulation I felt in my loins. When I strutted out dressed like this the man uttered a loud "Wow" with a catcall whistle.

"Look at you!" he told me as I stood before him.

I did a pirouette showing myself off to him. He turned me around and felt my ass with both hands though the beautiful taupe pant panties. By this time, I was fully erect and it showed when he fondled it as I turned facing him. In a fit of sheer desire, I fell into him, pressing my lips against his, not knowing if he would repel my advance. When his lips opened up and accepted my kiss I shuddered inside. His big manly tongue forced its way into my mouth as his masculine scent wafted about my nostrils. I felt frail and feminine as we kissed and both our cocks grew very hard. Abruptly, he broke the kiss and told me:

"Enough honey. We're not here for romance, be a good faggot and suck my cock," as he pushed me down to my knees.

My arousal being in wig, heels and lingerie was overpowering and suck his cock I did. I sucked it was a robust attentiveness as I heard "yeah baby", "suck my cock, suck it" "don't stop, you horny little faggot". His fat cock was hard with the unique fleshy taste and sensation filled my mouth, only a cock sucker would know what I'm talking about. In and out, licking, sucking, gobbling, gagging on his cock I tried to work my magic on it when at last he moaned loudly and bellowed out "OH. FUCK. YES." as he ejaculated a massive load of cum in my more than eager mouth. Obsessively I hungrily lapped it down the tangy, nasty taste of his spunk filling my mouth to his moans as I heard a few "yeah faggot" and "sweet little cocksucker" bandied about.

For whatever reason the demeaning Alpha talk as I sucked him off aroused me no end. Dressing femme and sucking cock was who I was, even though I wanted more than to just being a cock sucking fag servicing anonymous married men. I wanted more but, in the meantime, sucking cock was very hot, all betas know that. When I finally pulled off this guy's cock and stood up wobbling in the high heels my cock tented in so hard in the flimsy taupe pant panties that there was a big wet spot of pre cum at the junction of fabric and the tip of my penis. The guy must have found this amusing as he reached and touched my penis. The touch of his hand and my incredible arousal from sucking him off all it took was a few tugs of his hand and my penis squirted out ragged spurts of cum through the panties and his hand. He was kind enough to finish me off and then wiped his messy hand on my panties before I went to get dressed.

.....................

There in bed with Martin for the second day in a row, I was floating. So true it was that I was a faggot at heart. Men that dress in women's clothing and eagerly suck cock can easily be labeled as such. I was still a person with feelings and desires who had staged this whole "dating ritual" in hopes of finding a steady man. It appeared that Martin was that man and I was hoping he was. Regardless of any relationship connection I felt we had found, the sexual aspect of it all was more than thrilling. Here in the second sexual encounter between us I was exposing myself as the submissive feminine creature my actions had expressed that I was, in my ad and by dating.

Martin was the masculine Alpha male who loved the type of feminine gay male that was me. Martin rubbed my soft ass as we kissed and fondled each other's penis. It wasn't long before I had his beautiful hard cock back in my mouth as he continued to toy with and finger my ass. Every little twist of his finger in my tight butt made me devour his cock even more energetically. Martin then placed some lube at my hole soon pulling me up to mount me. I spread my legs and gasped out "fuck me like a girl." And fuck me like a girl he did. With his big cock up my butt, the weight of his masculine body on top of me and his mouth forced onto mine, I writhed in a sexual and emotional stimulation like no other. My eyes rolled back in my head as Martin humped me in an agitated frenzy, kissing me, tonguing my ear, telling me I "am so fucking hot". There in his bed in the half camisole and wig he fucked me hard, the high heels still on my lovely painted toes.

In a fit of passion as he was about to cum he flung off the wig, tongued my ear and muttered "lovely little fag" as he came in thundering moans as he ejaculated his seed up into me. As his orgasm subsided mine was just beginning and I feverishly jacked off to spurts of cum out my penis, his cock still pulsating inside my ass pussy.

That weekend was a dream. The newness of our union was full of tenderness, silliness and sex. I loved kissing him and acting demure and feminine around him. Sassy, yes that's how I felt. Feminine and sassy, playful and sexy, just like how some girls are around their man early in a relationship. Martin couldn't keep his hands or his cock off of me. If he wasn't fucking me I'd be sucking him off. We must have screwed four or five times over the weekend and I admit I felt a little sore at work on Monday.

My jaws were sore I had his big hard cock in my mouth so much.

We had wild decadent unrepentant sex all weekend, sex with me in high heels in the kitchen, sex with me telling him fantasies as he masturbated me while fingering my tight bung hole. Sex in bed, sex on the couch. I loved being his sexy little boy toy, being desired as a sexual object. He told me shemales do nothing for him. It was feminine boys, faggy boys, feminine gay males, sexy sweet boys like me who act gay, those are the ones that light his fuse.

From there Martin and I were a couple. We talked every day, even on the days we did not see each other, which was not often. He was my boyfriend, I loved it. The days we were together we'd usually spend the night, mostly at his place but occasionally at mine. His place was nicer, a classy condo in town. We both still worked and were both feeling out the relationship, trying not to go too fast. It was very natural and loving, I think as time went on, we were both surprised how well it was going, yet as in any new relationship both of us being cautious to not "rock the boat". Still, I loved having a steady boyfriend who was a stud in bed and made me feel like the luckiest 'girl' in the world. It's funny that previously when I cross-dressed for another guy for sex the outward trappings of women's clothing made it so great.

With Martin it was different; it was who I was and how I acted, not what I wore. Not that I didn't wear panties or girls' shorts and girls' PJ's around Martin, I did. I kept my toes painted mainly pink and lavender, my legs, underarms and penis were always shaved but I did not go around dressed 100% like a woman, far from it and rarely to never in public. Mainly, in private I was Martin's clingy, fag boyfriend. He knew I was his girl and he was such a man to me. It worked well and we got along famously. Martin was nearly insatiable sexually; I was only too happy to oblige. There was no reason for me to bitch and nag and demand attention like real girl. That might be a difference between gay couples and male/female couples.

Males are always horny and two gay males together are more than happy to engage in sexual activities as often as they like; no drama, no games, no hidden agendas, no punishment for something you didn't know you did, gay males just get each other off as often as they like.

When Martin watched a game on TV, I was only too happy to curl up next to him and hang out, or I could read or whatever I needed to do around the house. I loved being helpful without any issues of chores being done or not being done. Eventually after about nine months it was apparent that we might as well move in together, we were spending all our time together, no point in keeping two households when one is not being used. Martin had brought it up kindly before and when we both discussed it again, we agreed our relationship had reached a point to where it was a natural next step. Inside I was thrilled and knew it was the right thing and that it was a very good thing for both of us. We both had jobs and kept finances separate and I offered to contribute whatever he thought was best.

We discussed it rationally and came up with an amount and a plan, that way it was now a union of two households into one. Another thing that had happened before we moved in together was in every relationship that gets that far when you tell the other person "I love you". Martin told me first, I had known it also for a long time but there is always that fear if you say it, your partner won't say it in return and make things awkward.

Living together I would have to say I loved being rather faggy around Martin, I knew he loved it because he could not keep his hands off me and was always all over me feeling me up, caressing my ass, fondling my penis through my underwear, forcing his tongue down my throat as he fingered my tight hole. Of course, I always would be subtle in tempting him. At this point in our relationship, I was more of a fem boy faggy type than a crossdresser. Perhaps one of my favorite things was to walk around in the morning wearing a midriff tee or girl's tank top with colored boys' briefs. Tight briefs to show off my ass and flat tummy and the little bulge in front. Tight colored briefs in bright red or lime green or blue or orange, the same style as the traditional "tightie whitie" briefs but an array of colors; Calvin Klien, Armani, Deisel like that.

These were the types and colors of underwear that was common in twink and "Emo" porno videos. All the lovely smooth, hairless gay boys would wear this style of underwear as they kissed each other and fondled each other's penises through the tight colored underwear before getting naked for cock sucking and butt fucking each other. That's what I felt like around Martin, that I was his slender, smooth, hairless twink, which I was.

Of course, sometimes it would be actual women's 'boy shorts' by Victoria's Secret or DKNY in shades of pink with white banding or red and yellow combos. Sometimes I would wear simple, thin, skimpy girl's cotton panties in pastel shades or white panties with little colored flowers. Wearing any of these it just felt so naughty to walk around in my underwear like this making a statement about my rather boyish feminine sexuality. And on days off around the house I would accentuate my femininity by wearing subtle eye makeup; lavender eye shadow, mascara, eye liner just to augment my feminine appearance.

Really like any couple we got into routines or rituals that determined a great deal of our interaction with each other. Obviously, we could have sex in the morning before we got out of bed. Other times I'm thinking by me presenting myself so femininely and sexual desirable that it was a huge turn on for both of us. I mean walking around in the kitchen in panties or briefs looking like a casual, sexy girlfriend it was hard for Martin to keep his hands off me. As was it to keep from wanting to feel his glorious hard cock as he was all over me.

This little act of me presenting myself in the kitchen in colored boy's brief, girl's boy shorts or girl's panties could probably classify as a 'ritual' by the number of times we had sex in this manner. I'd present myself sexy like that in the colored briefs or panties with half camisole or skimpy tank top and Martin could not keep his hands off of me. He'd grab my ass (he always said I had a perfect 'girl's ass') and force his tongue down my throat as I rubbed him through his shorts. His cock nearly always ended up in my mouth and I never seemed to mind if he fucked me in the ass across the kitchen island.

One particular episode, one particular Saturday will always stand out. Martin worked a rough day on the Friday and slept in on Saturday. I was already up standing in the kitchen in a pair of pink and white Victoria's Secret boy shorts and a skimpy lavender halter top. Must have been his morning wood because Martin was all over me from minute one. I had his cock out as we kissed and he groped my bottom and my hard little penis. It was just one of those spontaneous erotic moments that I was making him above and beyond horny. He was telling me that I was "so fucking hot" as he was all over me and we were frotting cocks together as he grabbed my ass and fingered my tight hole.

"Talk dirty to me, Daddy," I told him and it seemed to excite him even more.

He called me his sweet little faggot princess among other nasty, dirty names. Martin pulled the cotton boy shorts down and humped my soft cheeks with his angry penis and dry humped me from behind as he pinched my nipples and pulled on my very excited penis. When I told him I was so close he took me in his arms cock on cock with his tongue down my throat in horny, hungry lust. Upon breaking the kiss, I tugged a few times on his gorgeous hard cock before he took over and yanked a few times as I opened up my undies in front as he splashed a massive ejaculation of cum all over my penis dripping all inside my girly undies, literally soaking them in cum and sperm. In my own fit of passion, I frotted my hard penis against his still hard beast and I too came in squirts and splashes over his cock and back over my tummy. We giggled a bit as we came down from our sex induced high. I took off my cute pink and white undies and wiped us both off with them. Boy, were they ever sopping wet in semen! I put them in the hamper and put on some proper clothing as we went about our day.

One thing I loved about Martin was when we had sex and it was great sex (most all the time) it seemed to make him hornier for the next go round. Sure enough, that afternoon he basically threw me on the bed and was all over me again. He stared talking dirty to me again and I told him I was a faggy pervert as I played with his massively hard cock. This comment produced an inquisitive look and I told him I'd be right back. Fetching the sopping wet cum soaked panties from the hamper I could not resist the urge from the days when I was married to Susie and would masturbate in her panties then sniff the damp semen on the panties for another mind-bending ejaculation later. This was even better as I had never seen so much cum on a pretty pair of undies. Martin thought it was pretty kinky but as he fucked me hard the scent of the semen-soaked undies filled my nostrils and took me to another world. Once a cum sniffing semen-soaked pantie perve, always a pervert for any kind of pantie sex.

...........

My sense of femininity after being with Martin only increased what I had long known and felt in my heart. I worked out to keep my boyish figure, cooked and found joy in the housewife role, it really was my natural persona. Martin took me to get my nipples pierced at the tatt parlor. I don't have any tattoos on my lovely boyish body; Martin has a few. He was my "spouse" and I his in my girlish persona. Previous encounters with other men they also could see this feminine element in me as well.

Back when I was married to Susie, I had a quite thrilling affair with another married man. His name was Sam. At first, he did not know I was the feminine type, I was afraid it might scare him away if he knew. Our first time together was in the middle of the day, his wife was at work and I met him at his house. Immediately the minute I walked in his door he started kissing me, I melted in his arms. It was a powerful initiation to something we both wanted. I took off my clothes right away because I wanted him to see me naked. He told me he wanted to see me in his wife's blue dress. How did he know? I didn't remember letting on when we were setting this up, maybe I did but I'm not thinking so. He brought me the dress; he was still clothed as I put it on. Being feminine in this guy's wife's dress as his clothes came off and we kissed, it made me soar as he fondled me through and under the dress. Our kissing, nuzzling, licking, mutual cock sucking was phenomenal as we made gay love, neither of our wives had any idea we were closet homosexuals.

We were both so into it that we stayed cuddled after our ejaculations, no awkwardness, no rush, no "wham bam, thank you mam". He got up as I lay there and returned with a pair of dusty pink taupe panties and a matching half camisole. His wife never wore them he told me, he said I would look better in them than her. This was really cool and casual about the whole thing and made me feel like a million bucks. As I modeled the lingerie for him trying to be as demure, sexy and sensual as possible he told me "you're a natural". The way I felt so feminine and gay being on display for this man dispelled any doubt I had that deep down I was this type of homosexual.

He fixed me a drink and we sat on the couch watching porn together. It was straight porn but still, I felt so sexy as he fondled me through the thin, soft lingerie. This lover really liked playing with my penis as he played with my nipples. I was all over him again kissing him and sucking his cock. We ended masturbating all over each other culminating our first afternoon together. I lived quite a long way away from him on the other side of town almost 45 minutes one way. It was not that easy for me to get away but over a span of several years we hooked up nearly a half dozen times. This guy was really good to me, plying me with lingerie and dresses, even a wig.