[Part of a continuing series of stories that at some point I plan to reorganize into one. Thanks to Dazmine.]
***
I eventually found out that Dom's full name was Dominic, but it might as well have been Dominate. From the moment I encountered him at the glory hole in a local adult book store, through becoming a cum dump for him and his friends, I slowly become his personal slut. On the one hand, it was shocking - I had always seen myself as smart, sane and secure in my sexuality. I had girlfriends and we had had adventurous sex, but now I was reduced to dreaming and day dreaming about Dom, his 10" cock in every hole, and being reduced to draining any and every cock of every guy who came to his home.
My work life suffered a bit - some from being physically uncomfortable after some of our sessions, but more from my drifting into fantasies. My boss called me into her office at one point to talk about it.
"Close the door behind you, Rich, and sit down" she said. Marilyn Walsh was both my manager and a friend. We'd been in graduate school together for a year; we had one long week away at Sandals resort and fucked each other silly, but after that we parted as friends and went our separate ways, keeping in touch on social media. That's how she reached out to me about my current job as a technical writer. I was there a year - and then I met Dom and my work life went to pieces.
Marilyn was my about my age (mid 40s), single, attractive with boobs that she loved to display - and I still dream about her long, brown nipples - and a curvy figure that she would alternately hide and display. A sexy woman and a good friend, and it looked like she was struggling for words.
"Rich, I don't know what's going on, but all of a sudden you seem to be in outer space. People report they've spoken directly to you and you seem to be far away. You're behind on both the manuals you are accountable for - this isn't like you! The door is closed, and given our relationship, I want to let you know I'm willing to listen as your friend - not your manager. If it's personal, go ahead and let me know - I will keep it confidential. If it's related to something here, we can address it. But please, I want to keep you here but your behavior is drawing attention and I'm concerned." Then she sat back with her hands at her sides and was simply still. It was silent for what seemed to be hours.
"Marilyn, it's personal. Really, really personal. I found out something about myself that has left me shocked, surprised and wondering about my entire life and all I believed about myself. I really do need to talk about it but I'm scared. It's like I uncovered a part of myself I never imagined was there, and it's consuming me. I can't think of anything else. And the strangest part of that is when it happened it was the most amazing thing ever! I just can't put it all together."
She paused, took a breath and asked "did you turn gay?"
My jaw dropped. "Pretty close. How did you know?"
"Because some time after grad school, I went through almost the same thing. I recognized the signs from how you were talking. It had to involve something like that. But I can also tell that that's the tip of the iceberg. It's more, isn't it?"
I nodded. With that, she picked up her intercom and told her assistant we were leaving for the day and we'd be back tomorrow. "Let's go, Rich. We need to talk about this in another environment. With something to take the edge off as well. Follow me back to my condo and we'll get comfortable and air it all out."
With that we each did a quick "the day is over and leave the office set for the night and the morning" set of tasks and walked out the front door together. We got in her car, she drove me to mine and off we went. Marilyn was doing well - her condo was in a gentrified area of town in a gated community. After we got through security we parked and went inside.
"Liquor or pot?" she asked.
"If you have scotch, I'd like a double."
Then, drinks in hand, we shed our outer business wear so I had was in pants and a shirt, and she was in her skirt and blouse. Our shoes were off, our feet up and we looked at each other.
"Okay, Rich, take it from the beginning. And remember that week in Sandals - there is NOTHING that I look down on or will make me blush. Let it all out."