When I met my wife, I fell in love immediately. I loved the way she looked, the way she thought, her character. I felt her parents had done a great job of raising her. We dated, I met her folks, with whom I got along with very well, we got engaged and within a year we were married.
Everything was perfect…for about a year, and then I came to feel there was no magic. I know this sounds shallow, but that’s the only way I can describe it. The sex was fine. However, we wanted to start a family so badly that the sex was mostly dedicated to that end.
Nothing has really changed in our relationship. I think of her now in the same way as when we met. I still love her. But there is no magic.
Alice had a brother two years older than she was and two years younger than me. At this stage in our marriage, I had never met him, for several reasons.
He had been getting his doctorate in anthropology at a university on the other side of the country. I work for a rapidly expanding company and as a junior executive in charge of personnel development, I often had to go to different cities in the Midwest where we were opening new offices.
When Gavin had come home for visits or holidays I had always been away, and in the summer he had been doing field work in Africa and the Mideast.
About eighteen months into our marriage he returned home to stay. I was struck by how much he resembled Alice, in looks and character. Besides the same hair and skin color, they both had their father’s eyes and their mother’s mouth.
His nose was slightly larger and he had a squarer jawline and stronger chin as befitted a masculine face. They both had their father’s chin-cleft, but Alice’s was only a hint. He was, of course, taller and was also well-built. He was pleasant and personable and I liked him at once.
We bonded, as they say, and spent a lot of time together. He liked to play tennis (Alice didn’t), loved going to car shows, both classic and new model introductions, and doing social work, such as working with veterans. All of these things were of interest to me too.
Gavin had moved back in with his mom and dad since his room was still there and he was getting settled into his job as a researcher at the state-run museum.
Alice was finally pregnant and as the delivery time neared she began having difficulties. They became more severe and her doctor decreed she needed continuous bedrest and constant attendance. She too moved back into her parents' house where her mother could be at hand when needed. I felt I should be with her as much as possible and wanted to be there when the moment came, but I couldn’t sleep with her.
Gavin offered to share his room with me, but acquiring a bed and putting it in there seemed like an unnecessary problem. It also would have been a tight squeeze.
I opted for sleeping on the sofa in the den. It was private and away from the kitchen, which was the activity center of the house. It turned out to be comfortable and I was fine with the arrangement. A weekly trip to our apartment for changes of clothes sufficed.
One late afternoon when I was getting ready to leave work, Gavin called to say Alice had gone into labor and their dad had taken her to the hospital. Their mother had gone with them. I sped to the hospital, but there had been no reason to rush.
It was long after midnight when she delivered. It was a difficult delivery, but both mother and new daughter were fine. We all went home elated but exhausted. Gavin congratulated me with a high-five, a hug and a slap on the back. After about three hours' sleep, I showered, shaved and went to work that morning and to the hospital after work.
It turned out everything wasn’t as well as we had thought, and they wanted to keep her there for a couple more days under observation. I went home, wrung out from the lack of sleep and worry. My mother-in-law fixed dinner, I ate, showered again and went to my “bed” and fell asleep.
Sometime later it seemed as if I was having a dream. Someone was asking if they could take care of my erection. It wasn't my wife. It was someone with a deeper voice. It wasn’t clear who was talking to me, but I nevertheless said yes, please do it. I slowly awakened completely and became aware I wasn't dreaming.
Gavin was sucking my cock. How I knew it was Gavin I’m not sure. Maybe there was enough light to see, or maybe his scent, or maybe by just logic; there were only him, his father and mother in the house. But here he was, sucking my erect cock.
There could have been several responses. I could have pushed him violently away with an expression such as, “What the fuck?” Or I could have clutched his head and held it while I fucked his mouth. My response was to lie motionless, pretending to still be asleep.
Why was this happening? What about when I came? Could I feign sleep then? My mind was spinning. How can this end? Fortunately, the problem was resolved. He let my cock slip from his mouth and stood up, turned and left.
My first reaction was relief. My second was a sense of loss. My cock missed the feel of his warm mouth. It took me hours of tossing and trying to clear my head before I fell back asleep.
The next morning I got up, showered, dressed and left before Gavin was up.
At work we had a meeting about one of our offices that wasn’t doing well, and should we try to resurrect it or shut it down, and a new office we were getting ready to open, and was that wise at this time. The meeting lasted for hours and when we broke it was well past lunchtime. Instead of going to lunch I went to the hospital. I needed to see my wife.
At the end of the work-day, I left the building, intending to head home. Gavin was waiting for me outside. I had completely forgotten we had tickets to go to a hockey game. I didn’t see any way to bow out.
I hadn’t eaten so we had a couple of hot dogs and a couple of beers. When the game was over Gavin convinced me to go to a bar for a drink. It didn’t take much convincing. The drink became a couple, or three. Maybe it was because I was still tired, or because I hadn’t eaten enough, or the combination of the beers and the stiff drinks, but I got drunk. Not falling down, but enough to cloud my reason.
After one of those typical lulls in the conversation I said, “So tell me, Gavin, how long have you been gay?”
Talk about stupid questions.
He smirked and said, “Oh, I see, I’ve been found out. I’m really sorry about last night, Cooper. It was wrong, completely wrong, but horniness and lust got the best of me. I’ve been wanting to do that since I first saw you.”
I frowned but didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t ready to admit it yet, but that was flattering, and a little bit of a turn-on.
He continued, “To answer your question, actively so ever since I was seventeen. That’s one reason I went to school in California. But I’m back here, and I haven’t found anyone special yet.”
I wasn’t sure I would say the right thing, but I said, “Well, I hope you do.”
He smiled, “I think I have.”
That went right over my head.
It was late when we got home. Mom and Dad (as I thought of them) had gone to bed. Gavin was high but not as bad as me. He helped me navigate my way into the house and to the den.
When we got to the door I said, “Would you like me to sleep with you tonight?”
He stood back and looked at me, “Are you sure?”
I shrugged. “Why not?”
He said, “I’d love it if you won’t regret it.”
I shrugged again.
We went up the stairs, with some stumbles, and into his room. We didn’t say anything. I watched him and followed what he did. We stripped to our underwear, then after pausing he took off his T-shirt and boxers, and I did too.
He threw back the bedspread and sheet and got on the bed. He took my hand and pulled me down onto the bed. Our bodies touched and we then wrapped ourselves around each other, our cocks pressing together. He kissed me and I opened my mouth and let his tongue into my mouth and pushed mine back into his.
Even in my inebriated state two thoughts were coursing through my mind at the same time. How could I be doing this when I had never had a thought about having sex with another guy in all my life? And how wonderful this was.
Gavin kissed my face, my nose, my eyes, my forehead, my chin, my neck, my chest, my stomach, my cock. Probably because of the drink, I was only partially hard. He put it in his mouth and this time I did clutch his head. Had anything ever felt so wonderful?
He quickly coaxed me to a full erection and sucked and worked my cock with his mouth. My head was swimming, but not from the alcohol. He’d let my cock go and jack it while he kissed all around it and licked my balls. He stuck his tongue in my belly button, gave little bites to my skin and returned to my cock.
You might think the alcohol would have made it more difficult to come, but the sensations overcame that and I shot my cum down his throat. I doubt if your body stores cum, but it felt like the past few weeks of collected cum was released in one huge climax. He came back up and we kissed passionately and then sweetly.
I fell asleep, but at dawn, Gavin woke me and told me, “Cooper, you need to gather your clothes and go to the den before the rest of the household begins to stir.”
All day Saturday I felt sluggish as a result of the booze. Late in the afternoon Mom and I went to the hospital to visit, but I wasn’t very good company. On Sunday I was walking down the hall when Gavin came out of the kitchen. He pushed me up against the wall and kissed me.
