A Confession and a First Time

When James told me he was "70% gay" it didn't come as a big surprise. His designer dog, stereotypical lisp, animated conversational style, and constant singleness were pretty much arrows pointing to a reality that he thought he was hiding. But, as a member of the church, he felt it was important to only come out to a few close friends. People who would be understanding and not judgemental of him.

Hell. I didn't even care. James made a bit of an ordeal of the affair. Meeting at a Starbucks first, then walking his dog for an hour of mindless chit chat until finally the big reveal. Woop. Not a big surprise to me at all, but he seemed relieved to hear it.

I was a little confused about why he chose to tell me instead of some of the others (including our pastor) so I asked. He told me that he already had told them, and for the most part they were accepting, but each one cautioned him that if he ever became involved in an 'active relationship' that he would be in serious trouble with God and maybe asked to leave the fellowship until he was single again...

The whole thing didn't make any sense to me. 'Fuck if God cares who you love,' I said, 'Or who you screw, for that matter. It's about trying to care for others as much as you care about yourself. Not telling them what to do with their money, or their cock.'

James was visibly relieved to hear this. He flushed around the collar when I said 'cock' and quickly turned the conversation to his dog's newfound love of a certain brand of dog biscuit.

Honestly, I didn't really understand the guy that well, or myself, until I got home, cleaned up the house and got the kids to bed. My wife was off on another girls' weekend (when did these become so frequent?) and I was left at 8pm with a few beers in the fridge and Netflix. Not a promising night.

For some reason my conversation with James kept re-running through my mind, like I had missed something important. I started wondering about him. Had he ever had sex? Was he ever horny as fuck when he came over for poker nights with the guys? Who in our group was he attracted to?

Was he like some gay guys who use apps to hook up with random strangers? Had he been repressing all of those feelings for his entire life and then just revealed all of it to me? Why? I wasn't even a minister.

I was, however, in really good shape. For 35, I had less body fat than most 19 year-olds, and I had maintained a solid, eight-pack core and well-defined chest, back, legs, and arms since I was young. I got some kind of high from working out and it kept me level most days. Other days I'd have this feeling. Like an itch I couldn't scratch.

Something about James made me feel it again.

For some reason, thinking about him made me horny. Had he ever had a cock in his mouth? Did he like that? Was he into eating ass or fucking it? Was he craving a mouthful of cum? We'd only seen eachother a couple of hours ago and I wondered if he was on his couch at home, right now, flipping through porn on his phone, filling his balls with lust.

What kind of a gay was he? He was so skinny and effeminate, I wondered if that would mean he liked to be submissive. Would he love to have someone run their fingers through his hair and guide his pretty mouth down onto a throbbing, spurting cock? Or was he more of a top guy, liking to work and massage his partner before threading 'the needle' with a hot and heavy rod?

I decided on the former. He was a pushover in every conversation. Almost like he enjoyed it.

I wondered what it would be like to have him as a gay toy. To get him all worked up and desperate and then tease the fucking shit out of him... I didn't know why, but before I knew it, I'd had 4 beers, a throbbing boner, and I was texting him: "Hey."

"Hey!" he replied, almost instantly. "I was just thinking about our walk and talk! It was SO great to finally get that off my chest with you. You know I really value our friendship. You're just so calm and confident all the time. It helps settle my nerves. I really don't know what I'd do without you."

'Oh, shit,' I thought. 'He's just a vulnerable dude. I shouldn't do this,' but before I could stop them, my fingers were flying over the phone: "I just finished working out. About to get in the shower."

... I waited to see what would happen. I couldn't believe I'd sent that... Oh fuck. What was I thinking? I'd known James for a few years. We talked every now and then. He had come along camping with a group of friends. He was about 5 years older than me, but still in the same stage of life. Just working. Earning a living. Building a reputation. And now all of that was at risk! What would my wife think if she knew I was flirting with him?

After what seemed like forever, I started to see the ... showing.

It was him typing a response.

... ... And then nothing. Did he delete it? What? WHAT!? I was so nervous (strangely, the throbbing in my pants had only increased).

... And then BAM! There it was. I selfie of James. On his knees. Cock in hand. A desperately hungry look in his eye, and the letters underneath, "Oh, really? I was just thinking of heading to bed, myself."

I ripped off my shirt and unbuckled my jeans. Leaning back, I gave a quick hard flex and snapped off a photo of my body from the neck down, hand slipping under the elastic of my boxer-briefs, "Oh, really. I was just thinking that with Tanya out of town, I'd have to go to sleep with an unsatisfied cock. It's difficult to do. You should try it some time." Send. What was I doing?

Instant response.

"I have. Frequently. But if you're open to it, I'd love to cum give you a hand with that... or something else." This time, a closeup of his open mouth in a live shot, broad pink tongue extending flat, the angle of the photo just capturing the trail of hair from his navel down to his now bright pink and seriously hard shaft.

I must have watched the half-second animation a dozen times. The pulsing in my pants growing with each repetition.

"Get over here." I text and then slam the phone down. There's no going back now.

I strip down and get into the shower. Rinsing the sweat off and deep cleaning my crevices. I quickly shave my balls with the wife's razor, using her conditioner to soften the coarse curls. I like James, so I shave my asshole, too. I use Tanya's shea butter: 'I'm definitely going to have him suck these babies full,' I think to myself, cupping my balls. I wonder what it's like to have a man's mouth down there. Will I feel his stubble?

In less than 5 minutes more, I've shut all the doors upstairs so the kids don't hear anything, and I'm down, in a towel, standing near the front door. A candle is lit on the small table behind me. A bottle of mineral oil next to it. I can't totally imagine what the options are here...

I guess I get to wait and see. And the itch, the wondering inside of me, gets a strong sense like it will be scratched in a serious way tonight.

I hear James' car pull up and the door open-and-shut as he makes his way closer to what I found out was the first time, for both of us.

**I've really enjoyed writing this first bit. Comment below, let me know where you want it to go.**