A gay story: Sex with married guys Clouds blew in and shrouded the moon just after 2 a.m. on a Saturday as I stood half drunk in the driveway. The entire rear of the house was covered in darkness. It was perfect.
I could see on Grindr he was very close. Then my phone buzzed with a one word message, “Here.” A half second later a black BMW cut through the streetlight in front of my house and pulled to the curb.
The driver’s side door swung open and out stepped a dude in a white dress shirt and navy blue pants. He was in his late 40s, probably a couple years older than me.
While I could see the dude out on the street under the light, he could not see me about 20 yards away at the rear of my driveway. I used the light on my phone to signal to him. He saw and headed right for me.
My heart pounded as he approached. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. Again.
He was a bigger guy than me, taller and more muscular. He definitely could’ve had his way with me if it came to that. But I knew it wouldn’t. He was married, too, and had as much to lose as I did.
When he was close, I stripped off my gym shorts and T-shirt. I stood there in the moonlight wearing my wife’s lacy, black Victoria’s Secret bra and matching panties.
The guy grabbed me in a lusty bear hug with two arms emerging from the darkness. It was a shock to feel his touch. He planted his lips on mine. Our tongues played. He smelled like high-end cologne. I draped my arms around his neck as his hands slid to my ass cheeks and squeezed. HIs mouth pulled away from mine and went to my ear. He licked my lobe.
“Where’s your wife?” he asked in a low whisper.
“In the bedroom,” I said even more quietly. “Asleep.”
“I’m cheating on my wife, too,” he said.
“Let me be your side wife,” I replied.
I dropped to my knees as the guy unbuckled his belt, and pulled down his pants and boxers. His cock was already hard, a solid seven inches that curved up toward the veiled moon. I wrapped my lips around the head and slid down his pole. Only soft flesh touched his cock as it slipped down my throat. I loved how the underside felt against my tongue. My head began to bob fast. I needed him to cum quickly, and he did. On maybe the fifth or sixth stroke, the guy grabbed me by the back of the head, made me take all seven inches and jizzed hard.
I let him fill my mouth without swallowing. As soon as he pulled out, I looked up with my mouth open to show him what a good little whore wife I had been. Then I closed and swallowed.
Without a single word, we both got dressed. The guy walked quickly but quietly to his BMW, got in and drove off. I went back into the house and was relieved that it remained quiet. She was still asleep, and I’d gotten away with it.
Again.
I went to the hall bathroom and closed the door behind me. I stripped naked except for my wife’s bra. I rubbed my cock against the crotch of her panties until I came into them. I was so horny, it took only three or four strokes. Then I licked my own salty jizz out of her panties. Shame immediately rushed through my veins. I took off the bra and threw it back in the dirty clothes hamper, along with the panties, where I’d found them. I looked in the mirror hanging over the sink. Looking back was a dirty faggot.
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That is an absolutely true story. It happened just over a week ago.
Let me tell you a little about my situation. I am a happily married man. I fuck my wife at least twice a week, and it’s great. But I can’t stop having sex with men. I started finding hook-ups on craigslist two weeks after the wedding and have kept up my infidelity for 13 years now. It began with one or two hookups a year, just jacking off with other married guys. But I quickly ramped up. A turning point came six years into our marriage when my wife went out of town on a business trip, and I had sex with nine guys in seven days and loved every second of it. For the better part of a week, I squeezed into my wife’s lacy, red teddy and edged to straight porn for hours while surfing Grindr for hookups. One married guy who came over that week put on my wife’s pink bikini. We made out for a while before I fucked him up the ass doggy style on her side of the bed. It was my first time doing anal, and my first and only time barebacking. That week I tried it all– sucking, swallowing cum, having my cock sucked and taking it up the ass.
After that, something in my mind broke. I couldn’t go back. I now have sex with guys as often as I can, as long as they are my type: married to women, plus or minus my age by about 10 years and clean-cut and professional looking. I end up having sex with nine or 10 different guys a year. Some become regulars or semi-regulars for a while. I’d guess I’ve had sex with 70 or 80 dudes by now, if you count every jack-off session, blow job and fuck. I hook up pretty much every time either I or my wife go out of town alone. I also hook up with married guys nearby in hotel rooms on business travel, or local guys in their offices.
Here’s how it always starts: I sit in bed with my back to the wall. I put a pillow on my lap and my laptop on top of the pillow. My favorite is striptease porn. Nothing crazy. Just hot women stripping off their clothes. Young and old, blonde, brunette or redhead– it doesn’t matter. I like them all. While watching stripteases, I cross my arms and pinch my nipples. I instantly get hard and start dry-humping the pillow. Within moments, I am in a sexual frenzy. I feel a burning urge to have sex, even if it means I have to “become the woman.” I go from wanting to fuck the girls on the screen to identifying with them. I download Grindr and post an ad on Doublelist. Sometimes I find a guy. Usually I do not. But I watch porn at least two to three hours a day, more like six eight on the weekends. When you put in those kinds of hours, you are bound to find a few other guys looking to play.
As you can see, my secret sex life takes about the same amount of time as a second full-time job. I have tried quitting so many times. I’ve been to three different therapists, Sexaholics Anonymous and Sex Addicts Anonymous. None of it worked. I am a total homo.
But no one in my “real life” knows how much of a slut I am. I live a total double life. The guilt and shame are getting to be too much. I need to vent my suffering. So I am going to lay it out here.
In the next few chapters, I’ll recount my true-life sex escapades. I don’t know that I’ll get around to all 60 or 70 guys, but I’ll try to hit the highlights and keep you in the loop on new adventures. In the meantime, send me an email. I love hearing from other secret gay sluts. I know you are out there.