The Wife Ch. 01

To Whomever the Hell You Are,

To be honest, I'm not even sure that this will help anything. I'm not sure of anything at the moment. I've been seeing a therapist as of late. She's a lovely person, and I'm sure she has good intentions, but I'm not even sure what the hell I'm supposed to do here. She says that it might help me to recount my journey. Might help me come to terms with my choices and the consequences that followed. Which I think is dumb because, not all of those consequences were from my choices. Which is the bitch of it all.

She countered that it's not just telling my story, anyone can tell their story but that I have to tell it to myself. I'm not going to lie, that made me laugh. For so many reasons and so many things I don't want to get into now. However, I'm willing to try anything at this point to get my shit together. So I've decided to indulge this experiment and try writing this to myself, whoever the hell that is.

See I've been questioning that about myself since I was young. Younger than young. Some people question really early in life while others question later in life, but everyone questions at some point. Even if they don't want to admit it. I know that from personal experience, because when I started, my world turned upside down. My parents, rather my father was a hard man who didn't approve of "lifestyles." He wanted to send me to a military academy somewhere on the coast, but my mother managed to convince him to let me move in with other family.

How she ever did that, I will never know, pretty soon after that I limited contact with them. Luckily, my aunt took me in. That's really all I want to say about my parents. The rest of my life was kind of normal, I guess you could say. I went through normal school, and forgot the question. My aunt wasn't a bad person, but she never knew how to handle that. So we never did.

I don't hold any grudges against my aunt, and she's really not the purpose of these letters and experiences. The start of this story starts in my early college days, which if this is a letter to my former past self, you'd already know that. So now that the backstory is out of the way, how about I tell you about the day that question popped back up. Who the hell am I?

That wasn't an easy question to answer, and when it first popped back up I had this feeling that I had to answer it immediately, and when I tried; I failed. After several attempts at dating and failing I was beginning to wonder what the answer to that question really was. I thought for sure that the answer would just jump up and slap me in the face. Yet it didn't.

After what must have been my hundredth date with a woman, once again ending with me in her bed failing to keep an adequate erection, I was sinking into depression. Another woman left unsatisfied. Another night I take an alternate walk of shame.

It was 5 in the morning. The woman I had been on a date with had been kind enough to let me crash on her couch, but after my failure, I made sure i was scarce early. Along my route home was a Denny's. Now, we all know Denny's has a reputation for being trashy, and really, this one earned it. Trashy doesn't beat out hunger though and I stopped in. The meal itself, uneventful. Tasty but not noteworthy. It was when I went to use the restroom after that the answer I had been searching for, finally slapped me in the face. At least, a part of it did.

Upon entering the bathroom, it looked as one might expect. Dirty and rundown with a stench of rotting something. There was also a strange sound coming from the only stall in the men's room. I knew the sound and knew that I shouldn't but I couldn't help it, I peeked. The stall wasn't even locked or closed, but pinned open by a large bag propped against it. Peering around the corner I saw two men, one super fit and the other a little heavier in muscle and skin, having some of the most aggressive sex I'd ever witnessed.

The muscular man was pressing the fit man against the tile wall, hand on his head securing fit mans face against the tile while his other hand held the fit mans waist firmly in place. From my angle I couldn't see his penis but the balls hanging off of the muscular man gave me some idea of what the fit man must be dealing with. They were both in too much ecstasy to notice my presence, focusing instead on driving his ass back into the muscular mans crotch. Groaning and panting as he pumped in and out of him.

They weren't naked. Both just had their pants down, but as I stared in awe at the sight of two men fucking, I began to notice a tightness in my own jeans. A full on hard on was pressing against my zipper. My hand instinctively reached down and rubbed it, and as I did, it felt good. Better than the sex I had been trying to have with women. My horny horomones took over and I rubbed my own cock through the pocket of my jeans while the two men displaying themselves to me began to pump faster, panting harder.

"I'm cumming!" the muscular man said, with one last forceful shove, shoving his cock deep inside this mans ass. "Jesus...FUCK!...I'm..."

As if on command, the fit man began quivering as his ass filled with this mans cum and he came all over the wall. Spurt after spurt, shooting across the wall his body was pinned on. Moments after, the muscular man released his prize and examined his work. From my spot I could see the cum oozing out of his ass and some more coated the outside. The muscular man must have pulled out on the last few spurts and painted him.

The fit man sighed heavily and pulled up his pants, not even bothering to try and clean himself or the wall up. Gave the man a quick peck on the cheek and left without even glancing at me. The muscular man, however, glanced at me as he redid his belt. Sizing me up and down with a grin on his face.

"You next dollface," he smirked, his voice gravelly and rough.

"N...No..." I managed to stammer, frozen in shock, intrigue and fear.

"Too bad," the muscular man shrugged. "Looks like you were really enjoying the show."

He motioned to my hand still resting on my own cock, to which I quickly removed my hand. The man gave a nod and a chuckle, liking what he saw. He blew me a kiss as he moved past me to the door.

"Maybe next time sugar," he grunted as he left.

I didn't move. I was too stunned to move, I'd even forgot that I needed to relieve myself. I just sat there, staring at the cum slowly dripping off the wall. My own cock was raging hard still. After what must have been 20 or 30 minutes I finally came to my senses. As calmly as I could, I left the bathroom, paid my bill, and continued my trek home.

I couldn't stop replaying that scene in my head. Watching the two men entangled in their sweaty mess. In a Denny's restroom no less. So dirty. Was that why I had gotten so excited? Was it just the dirtiness of the situation? Or was I into men? I mentally placed myself in the position of the muscular man, imagining it was my cock pumping in and out of his firm ass, but it didn't have the same reaction as when I put myself in the other position.

Still numb from the experience and subsequent line of thoughts, I couldn't really register what this meant. However, when I got home, it didn't take long thinking of the two men once again, to get me over the edge. I came harder than I'd ever cum from masturbating to porn before, and after my losing streak the past few weeks, this was a much needed release.

Unfortunately, it didn't lower my horniness all that much and the thought's didn't go away. I thought of another man, fairly generic feature wise, but his cock. His cock was huge! Instantly, I was hard again. I went slowly this time, imagining the muscular mans thick, gravely voice instructing me on how to jerk myself. Imagined he was watching while taking the fit man.

"That's it sugar," the voice said. "Don't squeeze to hard now! Don't want ya getting all desensitized!"

I obliged the imaginary voice, using some lube to soften the feel as I slowly stroked.

"Now I know what your really curious about," the voice said. "You wanna know if you would like the feeling of someone playing with your ass. Well, I want you to do that."

I didn't say anything but I did hesitate. My cock twitching hard from the sudden lack of attention. I did want to try it and in that moment, I made a decision that started something in me. Like finally lighting a candle after breaking all the matches. I stuck my finger in my ass. I did it slowly at first, afraid of the feeling it would bring.

"That's it, love," the voice cut through the pressure. "Finger yourself nice and slow."

I couldn't do it very long though, the pleasure of all these different pressure's combined made me cum even faster than the first time.

"Mmmmm," the gravely voice said. "I wish I could taste some of that. Why don't you taste it and tell me what it tastes like."

I suddenly snapped to my senses and the reality of what I did washed over me. It wasn't shame but it was anxiety inducing. I practically ran to the bathroom to wash my hands, washing all the evidence of my kinky act down the drain. Afterwards, I just stared at myself in the mirror running one question over and over. Am I gay? I just shook my head and pushed it to the side. Another voice deep inside me that I wasn't listening to was already telling me the answer.

So I put it out of my mind and went about my week. Satisfied at last but unaware of the consequences of my choice, starting with peeking in on the two men in the bathroom.

Regards,

Linda