When Barry was gone I walked to my mirror to examine myself. Who are you? What are you? A twenty seven year old man stared back at me. Six feet tall, well developed, big cock dangling. Good looking, hell yes, vanity justified by too many genuine compliments from women. Chestnut colored hair full and half long on my neck below my ears. Green hazel eyes. Fair skin with body hair confined to a modest T across my pecs and down my stomach to my chestnut bush. A sprinkle of hair on my thighs and shins. A splendid specimen of masculine perfection. A most worthy lover of women. Who now knew he had tits that could feel the same pleasures a female felt.
I gazed at my tits. My pecs were pretty much flat muscle. The nipples were average, but the areoles were a touch larger than average. My man tits. Wired to feel what a female feels. I touched my nipples with my finger tips and produced that fuzzy sweet feeling. Who am I? What am I?
Two days later I went shopping at the drug store I usually frequented. A long boxed tube of KY jelly was close to the boxed condoms. Something called a "rectal syringe" almost jumped off the shelf into my hand. With my goodies in hand I walked towards the cash register, and froze. Shit! What would the woman at the register think? What if a line formed behind me and looked at my goodies and looked at me, with shock, with disgust? I wasn't prepared for that. I turned to put my goodies back on the shelf, but a woman was in the aisle doing her own browsing for private needs. I was trapped.
After weeks of being seduced by Barry, I had surrendered myself to his desire to fuck me, but that was to be in hermetically sealed privacy, no one else on earth ever knowing or even suspecting. I never considered my public exposure in buying the paraphernalia to bring that about. Practically shouting to the world that I am making myself ready to be fucked by another man. Or the opposite, that I had a sweetheart boy I was going to fuck. Which would provoke the same disgust in those in line. There was a slim chance the public voyeurs might imagine I had a girl who liked anal sex. My predicament was so silly I almost laughed out loud. Never the less, I sidled about until the moment the register was very much idle before I dashed up to pay.
The woman was professional. Only a flicker of recognition tweaked her face as she scanned my goods and put them in a concealing bag. She carefully avoided eye contact, taking my money and pronouncing her "thank you." Nice and civilized. There are perverts out there, just try not to look at them.
My public exposure in the drug store was amusing. It was less amusing when I became my own voyeur of my own exposure in the privacy of my apartment. Did I really and truly want to do this? This perversion? What if I really liked Barry's cock in my ass, loved it? Would that transform me into a gay man that would never desire a woman again? The unknowns. The risks. Scary. For a moment terrifying. Just like with Andy when I was eighteen and had to battle the truth I was half a faggot and half a normal guy. Things like that, giving in to desire to take a first cock in my mouth, are things that can't be reversed or taken back. And the consequence was my learning I loved to suck cock.
Even so, I still desired and made love with girls. I knew how to separate the two, being a faggot and a stud. I had that firmly in my control. For now. But my self control was undergoing seismic movements, tectonic plates deep inside me grinding together, creating rifts and upheavals. The temblor of thrill in being seduced by a man, a big, big man who had claimed me for his darling, who gave me the fantastic discovery I had tits, as fully wired for pleasure as a girl feels. And that was not scary at all. That was marvelous, precious, a discovery of inestimable value. Barry could suck my tits all night long and I would know bliss. What would his cock buried deep in my ass feel like?
I called Barry to cancel out of our Wednesday night gym meet. An urgent business matter I couldn't ignore. No problem, he said, see you the next week. But his tone betrayed a mild suspicion I might be drifting away from the passion that had detonated between us. Frightened by it, stepping back from it, feeling about for protection. Which in fact I was doing to some degree. Mostly I was vacillating.
The sensation of his finger in my ass was a very exciting and alien thrill. But did that really portend the experience of his big hard cock in there? I seriously doubted it. But I couldn't imagine just what other truth his big hard cock in my ass would generate either. When he fucked me, would I discover something comparable to learning I had tits with the same wiring as a girl? When he fucked me. Not if. In the end I went back to my seduction of Bryan years ago. The stress on his opportunity of a life time to know what man sex was all about. Here was my opportunity. Barry teaching me. Just us alone. No one else would know.
"Hi guy. I'm missing you. How easy is it for you to get away from your office?"
