My Conversion
By: Morris Henderson
(Copyright 2007 by the author)
 

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

"This isn't working," I said to my wife over breakfast.

"What isn't working?" she asked as she poured herself another cup of coffee.

"Our long-distance marriage. Seeing you only on the few weekends when our schedules permit just isn't what I would call a recipe for a successful marriage."

Sharon and I married right after graduation from college. I took over my family's construction business while Sharon attended medical school. By mutual agreement, we delayed having a family. The plan was to start a family as soon as she finished her schooling but I always felt that she would launch immediately into her career as a doctor and would then want to postpone having a family again. When she finished her internship and residency, she was offered a position at a University hospital 1500 miles from our home in Connecticut. I was not happy but she was enthusiastic about the opportunity and, after a week of discussion, she decided to take the job. She claimed that other couples managed to be apart during the week with alternate visits to each other on weekends and coordinated vacations. I was not convinced of the viability of her plan but I was convinced of her determination to accept the job. I had to concede that it was a remarkably good offer and one that would jump-start her career. Consequently, I had agreed to try to make it work.

During two years of a long-distance, commuter marriage, I recognized that the marriage was falling apart. It wasn't for lack of money. We both had more than enough income to permit me to fly to her home or she to mine. Initially, the every-weekend visits were superb but, over time, they became less frequent largely due to her schedule or mine. My business was taking off and I often had to work weekends either supervising a project in peril or doing the abominable paper work. Her commitments also began to require her to work weekends. It had reached the point where we felt lucky to see each other once a month.

"Yes," she agreed. "I've had the same thoughts. In fact, . . . don't get me wrong . . . but trying to arrange time for visits has often been inconvenient. I still like you, Brad, but, to be honest, I can no longer say that I love you as much as I did."

"I've noticed," I replied. "There have been several signs that our weekends were becoming an obligation rather than something to look forward to. I feel that way sometimes myself. And I've sensed that you do, too. So where do we go from here?"

I was hoping that she would be the first to suggest a divorce. I suppose it's just that I didn't want to be the one to walk out of the marriage even though it wasn't working. She was quiet for a few minutes while I waited impatiently for her answer.

Eventually, she said, "I suppose an amicable divorce would be in the best interests of both of us. We have no children, we've already split into two households, there's no need for alimony but I suppose I owe you for my tuition in medical school."

"Forget about the tuition," I replied. "That's history. Let's just go our separate ways."

I was relieved that the discussion turned out the way it did. I had feared that she would object and offer promises to work things out. I think she was relieved as well because each of us had come to the same conclusion independently but were afraid of the other's reaction. I flew home that afternoon feeling liberated.

For the next six months, my life was simpler. There was no longer a need to get everything done by Friday afternoon. My weekend would no longer be spent on a plane and in bed. I was grateful that the split did not burden either of us with adversarial rancor that too frequently leaves emotional scars that are slow to heal. I missed the sex, of course. Masturbation became my only outlet and, while I enjoyed it, I yearned for some 'real' sex. On balance, however, I have to say that my life was better.

The winter season in the Northeast is a slack time for construction so I had enough free time to visit the gym and to stop at a local watering hole for a few drinks afterwards. It was there, at the gym and in the bar, that I met Jim. He was slightly younger than I was, in terrific shape, and had a personality that made a very favorable first impression and improved from there.

As we sipped our drinks that first night in the bar, I learned that Jim taught psychology at the local Junior College. He was on the varsity baseball team while finishing his degree and now volunteered as a coach of a little league baseball team. He was single and lived no more than 10 minutes from my condo.

Of course, he inquired about my life and I explained that I was also single after a marriage that couldn't span a 1500 mile gap.

"I'm sorry," he said. "It must have been very upsetting for you."

"Not really," I confessed. "Sure, there are some things I miss, like the sex, for example, but I think it's good we split when we did because our relationship was deteriorating and we parted as friends."

Our conversation then turned to other things--my work, his job, our likes and dislikes, and other nonconsequential banter. Before I knew it, it was close to midnight. The time has passed so quickly because it was so very pleasant chatting with Jim. We had 'one for the road' and I went home with more than a slight buzz.

Two days later, I saw Jim in the weight room at the gym and again in the shower after our workouts. "Hi there, Brad," he greeted me as I entered the shower.

"Hi, Jim," I replied.

I had seen him wearing only gym trunks and had admired how fit he was--broad shoulders, well-developed pecs with a sprinkling of chest hair, flat stomach, and muscular legs without being overly beefed up. In the shower, however, he was even more striking. Perhaps it was the fluid movements as he lathered his body or perhaps it was his demeanor that was casual, friendly, and not the least bit self-conscious about being nude. I also noted that his cut cock was slightly larger than what I imagined to be an average size and his balls hung low. At the time, I didn't or couldn't acknowledge any motive other than curiosity for my assessment of his genitals. (Later, however, I would wonder whether my interest -- like perhaps many or most men -- might have a latent and suppressed fascination with and even attraction to the most obvious attribute of maleness.)

"Have a good workout?" I asked.

"Yeah. But I'm thirsty as hell. Care for another few rounds tonight?"

"Sounds great."

Actually, it sounded better than great because I really did enjoy the conversation in our first meeting. Apart from my employees, clients, and a few business associates, I didn't have much social contact with people. The one, short time I had spent with Jim was more social contact than I had had in ages. I looked forward to another evening over a few drinks with him.

We ordered our first drinks and, instead of sitting at the bar, we moved to a booth at the rear where it was less congested and a little quieter.

After about 20 minutes of conversation, I said, "You've told me that you're single but I bet that you have a girlfriend. What's she like?" He laughed and said, "You're wrong about that, Brad. I've dated a little but I'm very unattached at the moment."

"Not for long, I would say. It seems you're a prime target for every single girl who sees you."

He laughed again and said, "Thanks for the compliment but I'd rather be the hunter than the prey."

"Well, whatever girl you set you sights on will be lucky indeed."

Jim suddenly got very serious and looked at me for a few uncomfortable minutes. I began to worry that I had touched a sensitive nerve or had been too forward in my comments.

Finally, he broke the awkward silence and said, "I'm afraid you're wrong again, Brad. I'm not interested in women. You see, I'm gay. I don't broadcast it but I don't hide it either. Are you upset that you're having a few drinks with a gay man?"

I'm afraid my surprise at his revelation was too obvious in my facial expression and belied my reply of, "Not at all."

"Brad," he began in a friendly but serious tone, "I can tell that my news has unnerved you. You do recall that I'm a psychology instructor so I can read other people's feelings. If you're uncomfortable being with me, I understand. We can part company as friends."

"No," I said perhaps a little too emphatically. "I'd like to be friends with you...not part company. It's just that I was surprised. I never expected..." my voice trailed off when I realized I was only making my blunder worse.

"That I'm gay? Not all gays are effeminate, swishy or leather-butch. Most of us, in fact, appear to be what you would call normal." There seemed to be a touch of defensiveness in his tone, all the more remarkable because he had always been so cordial.

"Hang on, Jim. I don't want you to think I subscribe to the stereotypes of gay men. Nor do I want you to think that I condemn gay behavior. All I'm trying to say is that it just never occurred to me that you were gay. It's just unusual to meet one and it took me by surprise. And let me emphasize that I don't think any less of you. You're charming, friendly, and I enjoy talking to you. I'd like that to continue. I really would."

Jim smiled, which I welcomed. Perhaps I had dug myself out of the hole I made by my initial reaction.

"So tell me, Brad. What do you really know about the gay life style?"

"Very little, really. I know, of course, that there's most probably a genetic basis for it but it's also influenced by environment and experience. I know that there are bigoted extremists who condemn it and religious zealots are chief among them. Persecution and discrimination is all too common and, if I may add, unforgivable. I also know that there's an increasing recognition, even tolerance if not acceptance of gays. But beyond those generalities, I'm completely ignorant."

"I see," he replied but there was something in his tone and expression that seemed to indicate he was not satisfied with my answer. My suspicion was confirmed when he continued, "You say that you accept the reality of homosexuality and dislike how gays are treated in society. That might be just a tactful thing to say to a gay man or it may accurately reflect your opinion. Let me ask you a question. And please be honest. How do you really feel? Is homosexuality distasteful to you?"

"Distasteful? No, I don't think it is ... for men who are born or become gay. I'm not one of them, however. I've never been attracted to men ... except, perhaps, as a young teenager going through puberty. At that time, I was fascinated with how boys became men and admired a few of them. But I found girls to be even more interesting. But I'm not answering your question, am I? Is homosexuality distasteful to me? No. Homosexuality is uncommon but not abnormal. I don't think it's a sickness or sinful. It's not something to be 'cured' by psychotherapy or prayer any more than hair color or left-handedness. So I suppose you could say that I accept it even though it's not something that appeals to my taste. I had a satisfying marriage--at least the first few years--and have never had the urge to...well...have sex with a man."

"Aha!" Jim said. "Unwittingly, you've just revealed how your concept of gay is limited."

"How so?" I inquired while trying to recall what clues I may have given him.

"You said you've never wanted sex with a man. That ignores the most important characteristic of a meaningful gay relationship. I admit that gay sex can be satisfying and that some gays are obsessed with sex. Just as some heteros are. After all, sex has been wired into our being through eons of evolution. But sex is just a physiological drive. We also have emotional and spiritual needs. 'Gayness' can and should mean far more than physical contact. In my view, a complete gay relationship must begin with an emotional and intellectual bonding between two men. That's the foundation for a lasting, loving relationship just as it is with a married couple. The sex, however satisfying, is an expression of the devotion and commitment that we call love."

"I suppose, then, that I've revealed the depth of my ignorance about gay people. Like most men, I've mistakenly believed that gay was meant only anal and oral sex between men."

"Don't feel guilty or punish yourself for thinking that," Jim said reassuringly. "It is a common perception. And it's made stronger by the vested interests of those who condemn homosexuality. Penetrating a woman's vagina is acceptable because it's undeniably associated with procreation. Penetrating a man's mouth or anus doesn't seem to link with any biological or evolutionary purpose. However, coupling does meet a number of emotional, spiritual, and psychological needs. Coupling is predominately between a man and a woman but the same needs can be met when gay men bond with each other."

"I can tell you're very effective in the classroom with your students. You've given me, in a few minutes, a valuable education with your clear and compelling arguments."

Jim chuckled and joked, "Your compliment is appreciated but many of my students who would disagree with you. In the classroom, I can be obnoxious in demanding that the students think ... and base their conclusions on facts and logic."

"Maybe it's the atmosphere. Conversation in a bar over drinks seems a much better way to learn than in a stuffy classroom. By the way, your glass is empty, I'll get us another round."

While waiting for the bartender to fix our drinks, I marveled at Jim's self-confidence and comfort with being gay. More significantly, I admired his emphasis on having a meaningful relationship. What he said made a lot of sense. I wondered if I dared to ask him a question that came to my mind.

"Here's yours," I said as I returned to our booth and set his drink in front of him. When I sat down, he raised his glass and said, "And here's to love and companionship; may we each find it in our own way."

I joined in his toast and said, "That leads me to a question I want to ask, professor."

"I'm off-duty," he joked, "but fire away."

"This is a personal question and you don't have to answer but I'm curious. Have you found a partner? Your toast implies that you haven't yet."

"No. I'm still looking. There are lots of ways to meet another gay man and I've met several. Along the way, I've had some good sex and some great sex but it's turned out that either he or I have decided not to continue the relationship. I tried gay bars but that didn't work. There may be someone there who is looking for more than a quick romp in bed but I didn't find him. It's not worth the hassle to segregate the trash while hoping to find a gem. I tried the Internet chat rooms. That was promising but most of the men live too far away. And some of them, like those in a gay bar, were just trolling for sex. I've also attended some meetings of gay-support groups. That's a little more promising but I haven't really found anyone yet."

"That's a shame," I said. "I would think that a lot of guys would be lucky to have you as a partner. Although I would imagine that they would have to be exceptional to deserve you."

Jim laughed and said, "My, the booze has certainly lubricated your flattery. Not that I'm complaining."

"I calls 'em as I sees 'em," I replied.

Partly due to the booze relaxing my sense of reserve but mostly because of the rapport Jim and I seemed to have developed, I ventured to ask another personal question. "I had a marriage but it's over. Have you had a partner in the past?" I immediately recognized how inappropriate my question was and added, "Sorry. That's none of my business. You don't have to answer."

"Ah, but I do," he responded. "First of all, I'm a teacher and I'm compelled to answer questions even when the answer is 'I don't know.' Secondly, I welcome the opportunity of enhancing your understanding of what it's like to be gay. I had several gay experiences in high school but they were just the result of hormones. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed every one of them but, at the time, I was doing it just for the sex. A genuine relationship was not even on my list of priorities. I know you're wondering so I'll tell you that it started out with mutual masturbation and proceeded to oral and to anal sex...with, as I recall, half a dozen boys my age. In college, I began to re-examine my priorities and concluded that sex was still fun but what I wanted was a loving relationship. I thought I found that during my Junior year. Todd was bright, serious, very attractive, and we seemed very compatible. We shared an apartment through our Senior year and I really felt that I had found somebody to share the rest of my life with. Unfortunately, he didn't feel the same way. It turned out that, while we had a great time together--including sharing a bed--he was in it just for the short term. Just before graduation, I started talking about where we would live after graduation. He avoided those discussions initially but finally had the courage to tell me that it had been fun but it was over."

"That must have been devastating," I said.

"Yes, it was. Since that time, going on five years now, I've been looking for somebody else but, as I said, I'm batting zero."

"This may sound strange," I ventured, "but it sounds like the story of the most popular kid in high school who doesn't have a date for the prom. Everybody is afraid to ask her because they assume she'll go with the captain of the football team or the student body president. Maybe guys are just afraid that you're already taken."

"Not that way at all," he replied. "I've been hit on frequently. I've had plenty of opportunities for sex. I've taken advantage of a few when I was either turned on and horny or when I really liked the guy and thought there was a chance of achieving something permanent. None of the guys turned out to be what I wanted. Most of them seemed more interested in sex than a committed relationship. They want to go to bed too soon. They're secretive or evasive about their personal life. We always meet at my apartment and never at their place. They are not willing to talk about the future or are obviously insincere when they do."

"It must be very frustrating," I said. "Is it depressing?"

"Sometimes," he said thoughtfully. "But I keep hoping. One day I'll meet somebody. The chemistry will be there. Things will click. We'll establish a close friendship that will mature into a committed love. There will probably be sex between us along the way but it's secondary to what I want more: devotion, commitment, love."

"I really hope you find it," I said quite seriously.

"It will happen sooner or later. The man I find, if you don't mind my saying so, will be very much like you. It's too bad you're straight and not a viable candidate."

"Now who's indulging in flattery!" I joked.

"Seriously, Brad. We only just met but I enjoy your company and would like to count you as a friend. Just that, by the way, a friend. I'm not hitting on you."

I raised my glass and said, "To friendship!"

We clinked our glasses together and finished our drinks. I declined his offer to get another round, explaining that I had an early morning meeting with a client where I had to have all my wits about me. As we parted, we agreed to meet at the gym on Friday and continue our conversation after that. As I drove home, I pondered the lesson he had given about gays and, more significantly, how much I admired and genuinely liked him.

Over the next three weeks, we got together at least twice a week. We met for dinner a few times and even went to a movie together. It was as if we were dating but, of course, the ground rule of 'friends-only' had been agreed upon.

At each meeting, we became more comfortable sharing ideas and opinions on a range of topics. He listened patiently while I complained about demanding clients and feather-bedding employees. I sympathized with his frustration over students who wouldn't or couldn't think but whined about their poor grades. We shared stories about our younger years and family. Through it all, I found myself revealing more of my life and inner thoughts than I would ever have imagined. And I felt completely comfortable doing it. I had come to treasure the time we spent together.

On a Wednesday night at the end of that three-week period, he asked, "What's on your agenda for the weekend?"

"Not a lot. Business is slow this time of year. I thought I might run some errands...my car is due for service, dry cleaner, groceries, maybe even some time for recreational reading, nothing urgent."

"Can you spare a few hours from mid-afternoon to evening on Saturday?"

"Sure. You have something in mind?"

"Matter of fact, I do. My parents own a lodge in Vermont. There's a beautiful view of a lake, a boat, lots of woods surrounding the lodge, even some wild life--deer, ducks, that sort of thing. I thought you might like to take a drive up there to get away from things for a while. I don't know if there's food there but we could take some groceries and cook dinner or, better yet, there's a lovely little restaurant about five miles down the road that has the best sirloin you ever tasted. How about it?"

"Sounds wonderful. I'd like that very much."

"Splendid! I'll pick you up at, say, one on Saturday. We should get to the lodge about two or a little after. That will give us time to do some hiking, boating, or whatever appeals to you. Then dinner and home again. It will be a micro-vacation for both of us."

"There is one request I have, however."

"And that is?"

"I buy the dinner."

"Your on, my friend."

That evening, I grew more and more excited about the opportunity to spend several relaxing hours with my new best friend. I did, however, do some serious soul-searching over how much I liked Jim and how I enjoyed being with him. He was always pleasant and cordial, he had an incisive mind without being pedantic, his values, particularly with regard to companionship were admirable, he showed occasional flashes of wit that never disparaged anyone, and -- most of all -- I thoroughly enjoyed his companionship. But, alas, he was gay and would eventually find a gay man to devote his life to. I envied whoever that man might be.

I didn't see him on Thursday or Friday but I thought about him often. I thought about how much I admired him and enjoyed being with him. I had to admit that I missed not seeing him. And then it hit me. I was experiencing many of the signs of companionship that he had ascribed to a healthy gay or hetero relationship -- high mutual regard, interest in the other's needs and wants, willingness to help without an expectation of reciprocation, and, most significantly, the undeniable pleasure of simply being in his company. All of those things, of course, might describe how two very good friends feel about each other, even two completely straight men who would never consider going to bed with each other. But somehow my feelings were running more deeply than mere friendship. That was surprising ... and a little unsettling.

A wild thought came to mind--if only I were gay, I could share my life with him. I immediately dismissed it but it lingered, took root, and grew. By Saturday, the initially wild thought was even more compelling. I knew, of course, that to be his partner would require my becoming gay. I would have to accept all the unique consequences of being gay--the discrimination, the gay sex. It would require a fundamental shift in my basic character. However, I would be living with a man who I had undeniably grown to admire and whose company I treasured. I liked him at our first meeting and that liking had developed into a true affection. Just what was I willing to do and to become in order to maintain and continually improve a relationship that, without a doubt, meant a lot to me?

Promptly at one on Saturday, my phone rang. "Brad. I'm out in front of your building. You ready?"

"Park the car and come on up," I replied. "I'm almost ready."

"I can wait here," he said. "It won't be long, will it?"

"No, not long. But I'd like you to come on up anyway."

I'm quite sure that Jim had no clue but I had decided that, yes, I would like to live with him. The one reservation I had was the sexual component of a relationship. I had never been sexually attracted to men but neither did I think it was objectionable if the sex was, indeed, the result of a caring bond between two people. My inviting him up to my condo was therefore a tactical move to assess any possible interest either he or I had in a more meaningful relationship.

The doorbell rang and I opened the door, inviting Jim inside.

"What's the deal?" he asked. "Are you ready?"

"The deal is," I began, having carefully planned my comments. "You invited me to your place...or at least your parents' place. And I wanted to invite you to mine."

He looked quite puzzled and said, "That's all?"

"I remember your saying that it was disappointing to always meet at your apartment and never be invited to a friend's place. Well, I didn't want to disappoint you."

He gave me an astonished look, paused, and said, "But that's when I was talking about finding a serious partner."

"Right," I said as I cocked my eyebrows. "I'm ready." I paused for what I hoped was just the time it would take for my covert meaning to register and then said, "Shall we be on our way?" My comment about being ready was deliberately enigmatic but I hoped he would catch the double meaning.

The drive to Vermont was pleasant but our arrival at the lodge was breath-taking. Jim's description did not do justice to the beauty of the lodge and its setting nestled among towering pines whose branches drooped from a covering of snow. The long driveway from the road to the house had been plowed and Jim parked near the front door. The inside of the lodge was just as impressive--rustic but furnished in an elegant way without any sense of oppulance.

"Make yourself comfortable, Brad. I'll just start a fire to take the chill off. There's a propane furnace but I think the fireplace is more in keeping with the surroundings." I took a seat in an armchair.

Having started the logs in the fireplace with, I assumed, a propane burner, Jim sat on the sofa facing me. "So," he began, "What do you think of the place?"

"It's beautiful. I've never been too keen on winter and snow but this place could change my mind. I change my mind often, you know...when there's a good reason to." I hadn't planned that comment but it seemed to fit my mood and the situation. Jim, however, didn't show any sign of picking up on my ulterior meaning.

"I love this place," he said. "I come here as often as I can but usually in the summer when school's out. It's even more beautiful then. So, would you like to hike? Boat? Build a snowman? What's your pleasure?"

"My pleasure?" I mused. "I suppose my preference is to explore something new and see what pleasure it might hold." I paused just long enough for Jim to hopefully recognize the clue. If he did, he didn't show it so I continued. "I'll be honest, Jim. As I said, I'm not fond of snow so the hiking doesn't appeal to me. But it might be fun to go out on the lake and look around."

"I was hoping you would say that. There's a cove, just around the bend in the shoreline, with a very impressive waterfall splashing down a large cliff. I don't think it's cold enough to be frozen so let's go take a look."

I helped Jim take the tarp off the small skiff that, fortunately, had an outboard motor so we wouldn't have to row. He tossed me a life jacket and grabbed another for himself. Ten minutes later, we rounded the bend of the shore and saw the small but spectacular waterfall. He shut off the outboard motor and stared at the waterfall. Almost to himself, he said, "Lot's of memories for me here. I used to come here in July and August when the water was only chilly and not frigid. I would skinny-dip until my whole body was pruney."

There was another opening for me that I couldn't pass up. "Were you as good-looking then as you are now?"

He jerked his head around and stared at me. I couldn't tell whether it was because I interrupted his private reverie or that he seemed to have finally caught on to the signals I had been sending. His response did not resolve the mystery. "Nah. I was a lanky teenager." He then proceeded to point out where he swam, the best places to dive from, and, several yards down the shore, where he would build a fire and roast hot dogs for lunch. "Now that spot brings back a special memory," he mused, again as if talking to himself.

"How so?" I asked.

"Had my first blow job there. I was 15. A good friend and I had been swimming and we ate lunch there. We'd just been swimming so we were both naked. Well, we both let our hormones take over." He paused to think a moment and continued, "Listen to me! I'm telling you things that I've never told anybody else. I hope you're not shocked or offended."

"On the contrary. I'm flattered that you're comfortable enough to tell me." Becoming more daring and explicit in my hints to him, I said, "In fact, I think I would have liked to have been there with you."

He gave me an intense look that most certainly meant he finally understood what I had been very obliquely saying but he said nothing. Instead, he started the outboard motor and we returned to the dock. With very few words passing between us, we covered the skiff and returned to the lodge that was, by this time, comfortably warm.

He invited me to sit and be comfortable and said he would fix us some hot chocolate. He disappeared into the kitchen, leaving me to wonder whether my hints and clues had been welcomed, resented, or simply ignored. When he returned with two mugs of steaming hot chocolate, he handed me one and sat on the sofa.

To break the awkward silence, I said, "I appreciate your invitation to come up here. It's far better than you described it."

"My pleasure," he said automatically, thought a moment, and then said, "Brad. There's something I need to know. I'd like to ask you a few questions. You don't have to answer but if you do, I'd like you to be completely honest. I think our friendship deserves nothing less and I have no reason to believe that you would ever be anything but honest."

"Shoot." I said, half anticipating the nature of the coming questions. "You've told me that you don't condemn homosexuality. Do you really mean that?"

"Yes. Even before I met you, I accepted that gay behavior was acceptable for those who are gay. Since meeting you and learning more about the gay culture and gay relationships, I've only strengthened that opinion."

"What's the distinction, in your mind, between gay sex and gay relationships? Remember, I expect that you'll be honest with me."

"It's obviously different having heard you speak so eloquently about companionship, bonding, and commitment. I understand now that a few gay men are selfishly out for pleasures of the flesh. That's gay sex. Gay relationships, however, are different from traditional marriages only in the fact that both partners are men who genuinely love each other."

"And your attitude toward discrimination and persecution of gays?"

"Pardon me, Jim. But I feel like I'm taking an oral exam in one of your classes."

Jim laughed. "I apologize. Occupational hazard, I suppose. But I really am interested in how you feel. Don't tell me what I want to hear. Tell me how you feel."

"I said this before. I meant it then. I feel even more strongly now. Discrimination and persecution of gays--or any other minority--is repugnant."

"Okay. This question is a trick question. I'll be listening to your answer, of course. But, as a psychologist, I'll be paying attention to more than what you say. Are you willing to answer knowing that?

"Of course. Providing that you tell me how you interpret what I say."

"Deal. Here's the question. How straight are you?"

I thought for a moment about his question and what he might be looking for. The logical conclusion--or at least the most probable--was that he had, in fact, picked up on my obtuse hints and simply wanted to verify what was in my mind. I decided that I would stop hinting and honestly reveal the results of my self-examination. I didn't know how he would react but I felt strongly that I had to be explicit.

"That is tricky. Not because I don't know the answer. I'm pretty sure that I do. But the answer depends on a time frame. Up until the last week or so, I suppose I was totally straight. I was attracted to girls as a teen and later to women. I married and had--for a while--a very satisfying relationship with my wife. I was never attracted to men or had any urge to engage in gay sex. Of course I masturbated a lot as a young man and do now, since my wife and I split, but in my mind that's not gay. Now let's move the calendar forward to when I met you. I was immediately struck by how handsome and fit you are. I very soon came to admire your personality and character. I found that I looked forward to our time together. It was fun. You made me feel totally at ease. Hell, I never felt as close to my own brother as I do to you. In short, Jim, I've become very fond of you. No, fond isn't the right word. Affection? Love? Whatever it is I feel, I want to be with you and miss you when I'm not. But back to your question. How straight am I? I think I know the answer. It's certainly not the answer I'd have given in the past. I'm not as straight now as I was. I'm not entirely sure that I'm fully gay but this I do know. I've never been more content than the times we're together. And I'd like that contentment to continue. With you. If that makes me gay, then I'm gay. But if I may, I'd like to add a qualification to my answer. There's one thing I'm not sure about. I don't know how satisfying it would be to have gay sex. I don't know if my partner would be satisfied and that would distress me. You see, I have no experience to base an opinion on."

I had been totally honest but I was apprehensive because I was not at all sure of Jim's reaction. Without any prior intention, I had confessed both my strong affection for Jim and my acceptance if not desire for an intimate relationship. Because of my regard for Jim, I felt comfortable saying what I did. Having said it, however, I began to wonder--and worry--about how Jim would react.

So there you have it, teach. My oral essay that bares my psyche."

Jim had been listening intently but burst out laughing at my conclusion. "Very good," he said. "Are you ready for the next question?"

"How did I do on the last one? You said you would tell me your interpretation of my answer."

"And I will. Your body language, facial expressions, tone and pace of speaking, but most of all your eye movements signaled that you were not being deceptive or evasive. Consequently, I have to conclude that what you told me legitimately represents how you feel about gays, about me, and, significantly, about yourself."

"So I passed the test?" I joked.

He laughed again with his easy, infectious laugh. "It's not a test, my friend. I apologize if it seems like an interrogation. It's just that you've made several comments since I picked you up at your condo that could be interpreted in different ways. At first, I thought that, as a gay man, I was particularly sensitive to comments that might signal an interest in hooking up. And I assumed that you, as a straight man, had no clue about how your remarks could be interpreted. I just wanted to ask a few questions to avoid misinterpreting what you said."

"And your interpretation is?" I asked.

"It's not conclusive but everything points to your interest in a long-term relationship with me, which, if I may add, astonishes me. It's about the last thing that I expected. After all, you've led a straight life including a marriage. I'm immensely flattered if that's the case but I've never given any serious thought to your willingness to live gay."

"Then let me remove the doubt. If living gay means living with someone who is a delight to be with, someone you admire, someone you have a strong affection for ... and I mean someone like you ,,, then yes, I'm not just willing, I would jump at the chance."

Jim grinned but then said something that disturbed me. "Brad, once again I'm flattered. And I recognize your courage in saying so. But I'm not sure you recognize all the implications of what you're saying. For one thing, we've known each other for only three weeks. That's hardly enough time to fully assess out compatibility for years to come. Also, you said you are unsure of the sex part of a gay relationship. I respect you for saying that mostly because you pointed out that you don't have the experience to support a conclusion. To continue with your equating of my questions to a school examination, I'm going to offer you a lab assignment. You're entirely free to accept or decline the assignment. There's no penalty for declining. Here it is. Think before you answer. Would you like to go to bed with me?"

"No thought necessary. Yes. I would. You've already taught me so much. I'm eager to learn more if you'll be patient with a complete novice."

Jim smiled broadly and said, "Final question. Multiple choice. a. before dinner b. after dinner c. both of the above"

"That's easy. c. I think it will take more than one lab session. Remember, I'm a beginner at this."

Jim smiled, rose from his chair and stepped over to me. He took my hands and guided me to a standing position. "I want you to know, Brad, that I welcome this unexpected turn of events. But I also want you to know that our having sex today is strictly for you to find out whether you like it and want it to continue. Please don't interpret it as the beginning of a true relationship. That may or may not happen. Are you okay with that?"

"Absolutely. But am I allowed to hope that, eventually, I could be the partner you've been looking for?"

"Hope? Yes. Expect? No. We'll have to wait and see."

He led me down a short hall and into a bedroom. A queen-size bed dominated the room. Suddenly, I grew very nervous. I had only a vague notion of what to expect. More significantly, I began to worry that I couldn't get it up. While I never had a problem getting an erection when masturbating, my doubts about my virility in this situation haunted me. Fortunately, in his characteristic way, Jim recognized my nervousness and said all the right things to settle me down and then boost my confidence. "I know this is all new to you, Brad. But it's going to be all right. I'll take the lead but I'll stop whenever you want me to. If you're uncomfortable with anything, just say so. Because this is your first gay experience, I want it to be special. I want you to be happy with it. Just relax and enjoy it."

We stood by the bed. Jim began unbuttoning my flannel shirt while talking to me softly and reassuringly. He pulled my tee shirt up over my head and complimented me on the musculature of my torso while giving what I felt were admiring glances. Then, no doubt to eliminate any embarrassment I may have over the only one being undressed, he removed his own shirt and tee shirt. "May I take off your pants?" he asked and I nodded my assent.

As he unbuckled my belt and unzipped my pants, I surprised myself with a noticeable swelling of my cock. He slid my pants down below my knees and asked me to sit on the bed so he could remove them as well as my shoes and socks. My heart was beating a little faster, in part because I was venturing into the unknown but also because I found his tenderness and concern for me somewhat erotic. I sat on the bed in only my boxers and watched him strip down to his. The bulge in his boxers was a clear sign that he, too, was getting aroused.

"Lay back and relax," he said softly. "I'd like to admire your body for a little while."

I willingly complied. Propped up on one elbow beside me, he began to run his hand over my chest, not so lightly that it would tickle, not so forcefully that it could be called a massage, but with just enough pressure to be pleasant ... and arousing. I found, not surprisingly, that I enjoyed what he was doing, which was all the more enjoyable because it was Jim doing it.

He nibbled on my ear. He gave me a gentle kiss on a cheek. When my former wife did that, I wanted more and would immediately engage her in a passionate kiss. That, in part, may have been what compelled me to do the same with Jim. A thought passed very briefly through my mind: this is a man I'm kissing! The thought was quickly dispelled by an overpowering sense of pleasurable stimulation. Yes! I want to do this! It feels good. It feels right.

Jim broke the kiss, looked at me intently, and smiled. I took that to mean that he both enjoyed it and was pleased that I also enjoyed it.

While toying with my nipples, he said, "A man's nipples are one of his erogenous zones. Did your wife ever suckle your nipples?"

"No, but I did hers and she seemed to like it."

"A man's nipples can produce a similar sensation." With that, he leaned over and began licking, sucking, and stimulating one nipple and then the other.

"I had no idea that would feel good," I admitted.

Without chuckling over my ignorance, he said, "It's just a hint of the pleasures to come. Are you ready to go on?"

"Please."

I felt his hand fondling my cock through the thin fabric of my boxers. My cock responded quickly, going from semi-hard to fully erect in a very short time. All my worries about not being able to get it up were gone.

"Raise up you hips," he said, sounding more like a request than an instruction. "I'd like to take off your boxers if that's all right."

He removed my boxers and said, "Beautiful. Well proportioned. Not grossly oversized. Well shaped helmet. You can be proud of what you have, Brad." I was sure that he was indulging in flattery just to make me feel good but I was quite willing to accept his praise.

He got off the bed, slipped off his boxers, and stood next to the bed. His cock was hard but not yet erect. I found myself staring at it. I had seen it in the shower at the gym, of course, and had even checked it out but from idle curiosity. I had never seen it erect, I had never anticipated sexual engagement, and the effect on me was astonishing.

"You can touch it if you want," he said warmly. I couldn't resist the offer and reached, perhaps quite tentatively, to wrap my hand around it. It was warm, silky-smooth, and I could detect a faint throbbing as more blood rushed in to bring it a full erection.

"I'm guessing that you've never had you hand on another man's cock. Am I right."

"Yes," I mumbled, unable to say anything else.

"Tell me how you feel doing it," he said.

"I don't know," I said honestly. "It excites me but I don't know whether that's because it's taboo or because it's sexually arousing. Maybe a little of both. But I must admit, I enjoy it."

"Good," he said with a hint of a smile. "Are you ready to continue?" How like him! Checking with me once more to be sure I was willing to go on. "Yes, please," I said.

He laid down beside me once again and said, "I'm going to lick your balls and your cock. I'm going to take your cock into my mouth. Are you all right with that?"

"Yes."

"Then I'm going to suck on your cock and swallow your cum. Does that offend you?"

"No."

With no further conversation, he kissed and licked his way from my chest down to my crotch. At the same time, he was fondling my balls and cock, which sent bursts of pleasure radiating through my body. By the time his mouth reached my cock, it was so hard it felt as though it would burst out of its skin. When his warm, moist lips encircled the head of my cock, I couldn't hold back a moan of pure pleasure.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Yes. Please don't stop. It feels absolutely wonderful."

As much as I wanted the overpowering pleasure to continue, I felt the urgent need to cum and was powerless to hold it back. I was clenching the sheet on the bed and moaning deliriously when I felt the first of several blasts of cum erupt into his mouth. Following the debilitating orgasm, I collapsed on the bed hoping to regain my breath, consciousness, and normal heart beat.

The next thing I was aware off, Jim was lying beside me, again propped up one one elbow and a hand toying with one of my nipples. "Everything okay?" he asked.

"No," I replied. "Everything is simply wonderful. You took me to heights I never imagined possible."

"I'm glad. So what do you think of gay sex so far?"

"As I said--it's wonderful. Even more wonderful because it was with you."

Jim chuckled and said, "I don't know if you're being a salesman, a diplomat, or just a man satisfied with his first gay blow job."

"It's the latter, I assure you. Sharon refused to even try it."

"I'm delighted that you enjoyed it. Conventional wisdom is that a man gives a much better blow job than a woman because a man knows what feels good. That seems to make sense but I can't speak from experience."

"Nor can I," I replied.

We wrapped our arms around each other and pressed our naked bodies together in a long hug. I was amazed at how wonderful it felt and no longer concerned about doing it with a man. I gave Jim another kiss and said, "Thank you. It was wonderful."

He smiled and said, "You know the lab experiment is not over. You've experienced receiving sex from a gay man but giving sex to a gay man can be quite another story. You may not like that."

"There's only one way to find out. Lay back. I'm not nearly as proficient as you but if you're patient with me, I want to try."

"My, you are the adventuresome sort, aren't you. But I have another suggestion. Let's shower, get dressed, and go to dinner. Then, we can come back here for....for your second lab exercise."

He had just subtlety reminded me that the sex was meant solely to let me assess whether I liked or disliked it and not as an implied promise that there would be other such experiences. My disappointment was tempered by his promise of another session in bed after dinner.

We showered--together of course. I had showered often in the gym when one or more men were present and the best word to describe that experience was routine: get clean, rinse off, dry, and get dressed. I was not prepared, however, for the feelings I experienced as I showered with Jim. It was astonishingly erotic and arousing as he lathered my body from toes to eyebrows and, even more arousing as my soapy hands roamed all over his body. I could never have imagined just a short time ago the thrill I felt. Nor would I have thought how the very personal, very private act of washing each other would produce an erection that was almost painfully hard. My erection persisted as I washed his magnificent body. It was during that shower together that I realized that there must indeed be a gay part of me--and possibly other men--that lay dormant and unrecognized until it was brought to life in favorable circumstances. I resolved to ask Jim, the psychologist, about that some time.

We ate dinner in the restaurant Jim had mentioned and the food was superb. We had agreed, on the drive to the restaurant, that we would not talk about sex or relationships over the meal, partly because our conversation might be overheard but also because, as Jim astutely pointed out, we were still only good friends and should celebrate that fact--another subtle reminder to curb my expectations.

Upon arriving back at the lodge, however, I found that my mind and my cock were both impatient to get back into bed. That was a feeling I hadn't had for a long time. It was that way for about six months after Sharon and I first married. I now had that feeling with Jim. I had already accepted that I wanted to spend my life with him. Now I craved sexual intimacy, which meant, of course, that the dormant homosexuality in me had been awakened and was rapidly maturing, I fervently hoped that Jim would accept me as his life-long partner.

We entered the lodge and Jim promptly put some more logs in the fireplace and said, "The only down side to that restaurant is that it's dry. Can I fix you a night-cap? I think we have almost anything you want in the bar over there."

That would delay what I really wanted to do but I said that a Scotch and water would be nice. We sipped our drinks and resumed the conversation that started at the restaurant and continued throughout the short drive back to the lodge.

About fifteen minutes later, Jim said, "We're good friends. I enjoy your company and you've said you like being with me. We've had sex and will again tonight. You've said that you want to live with me. But I have to be honest with you because you deserve it. I'm not ready to commit to a long-term relationship. It's been only a few hours that I've had to consider you as a partner and I need more time to digest the unexpected news. I've liked you since our first meeting. I enjoy your company. The prospect of having you as a friend pleased me enormously. But it's a big leap from friend to life partner. Just grant me some time to make up my mind. Okay?"

"Of course. I'm disappointed because, as I said before, I'm ready. However, I recognize the position I've put you in and I appreciate your candor in expressing your feelings. I must also say--again--that I hope we might be partners. If not partners, then good friends. I hope we can continue to explore our compatibility. If you--or either of us--decide that it's not the right choice, I still want to be your friend."

"Absolutely. I didn't mean to imply that the friendship would cease. In fact, it's essential to helping me make up my mind. And I should add that, like you, I hope that it works out. For both of us. I just need to--pardon me for being blunt--I need to be sure that a straight man can make the necessary conversion. I say that because having been gay for a long time, I'm aware of potential problems that you may not have considered. Over time, we can discuss them and how you will react to them. But for now, let's proceed slowly until we're both sure of living up to the commitments we must make to each other."

"Agreed. And can I add just one more observation? It's startlingly refreshing to talk to someone who isn't hiding something. My clients, my employees, my business associates are not like that. I'm constantly analyzing and trying to guess what they are really thinking. You're very up-front about it. I respect that and try to follow your example."

"There you go again with the flattery!" he laughed. "Keep it up, though, I like it."

"Following your example of honesty, I must confess that I'm impatient to get into bed with you for our second lab exercise."

He laughed heartily and said, "Somehow I knew that. Let's go."

In the bedroom, we both stripped off our own clothes without my nervousness at being naked with him. It would have surprised me not that long ago but the sight of his bare body and the thoughts of doing what I wanted to it...for him...was tremendously arousing.

"Lay back," I said. "I'll try to be as good to you as you were to me although it won't be as masterful."

"You're sure you want to do this?" he asked.

"Never more sure of anything."

"Remember, I warned you that giving gay sex is not the same as receiving it."

"There's a verse in the Bible that I recall from being a child in Sunday School. I hope it's not sacrilegious but it's more blessed to give than to receive. I'm about to find out, aren't I?"

Not knowing any more about gay sex than what Jim had showed me, I tried to duplicate his actions. At first, I didn't know how I would react to administering sex to another man. Jim had warned me that it was different than receiving it but I found that, in its own way, it was just as pleasurable. I'll admit to hesitating before putting my tongue on his balls and cock but once I did, his moans told me that he enjoyed it. That was enough to encourage me to complete the task. I could get only part of his cock in my mouth but I tried to duplicate his stroking and sucking. In spite of my novice status, Jim approached orgasm within a seemingly short time. He warned me and told me I didn't have to swallow his cum but, having made the transition to cocksucker, I was determined experience it all.

He didn't moan as loudly as I had but he stiffened and I felt several blasts of hot cum hit the roof of my mouth and the back of my throat. The force of it surprised me. I momentarily gagged and let some of the salty cream spill out over the base of his cock and into his thick bush of hair. After the first bursts, the cum seem to continue dribbling out so I sucked and licked until he pushed my head away saying that his cock was getting too sensitive.

I snuggled up beside him and found that I enjoyed the contact between our naked bodies. I found myself hoping that it was just the first of many times we would lie together in bed.

After a few minutes, Jim turned to me and said, "That was good. Very good. What did you think about it?"

"I enjoyed it. To tell the truth, I was nervous. I was afraid that I would make a stupid mistake. I wanted more than anything to give you pleasure but after a little while, I was surprised to find that I was getting pleasure out of it myself. And you came so I guess I did something right."

"More than something. Nearly everything. So tell me. What do you think of gay sex now?"

"I like it. I really do. But I'm sure it's because I'm with you. Obviously, I enjoyed it when you did it to me but I was happy to be able to do it to you."

"It doesn't bother you to be a cocksucker?"

"No. I suppose there are those who suck cocks just for the thrill of it or perhaps for cash but that's another species. Sucking the cock of somebody to give them pleasure has its own rewards."

"Careful, Brad. You're forgetting that this is just an experiment to show you what gay sex is like and to see whether you like it."

"Well, the results of the experiment are in. I know what it's like and I would like to do it again and again."

"So tell me, if I can risk one more probing question. How would you compare gay sex with straight sex. You've experienced both now. Which do you really prefer?"

"That requires some thought. Give me a minute." I said. "Both are satisfying. And for me to say that, I think, is significant because I had real nagging doubts about whether I would like gay sex. Which is better? I'm not prepared to say. After all, I've only had two gay encounters." Grinning and cocking my eyebrows, I concluded with, "I think I need several more experiences before I can compare the two fairly."

"Clever answer," he responded with a smile. "Your place or mine?"

"Both! As often and for as long as you're willing to teach me."

For the next six weeks, Jim and I saw a lot of each other. Most of the time was a dinner, movie, playing tennis or golf, or nursing a few drinks at our favorite watering hole. Some of the time, however, was in his bed or mine, overnight on a few occasions. Our friendship deepened as we learned more about each other's background, interests, problems, and successes. Our love-making, usually about twice a week, grew more satisfying as we learned (I had far more to learn.) the subtle ways to maximize the other's pleasure. I also learned, in discussions with Jim, a lot about what it's like to live as a gay man in a society that condemns the behavior, how to handle many of the difficult situations that arise, and how to avoid those situations. I had an excellent teacher.

Midway through that six-week period--call it a courtship if you like--I asked Jim about anal sex and why he hadn't included it in my indoctrination. "Hah!" he exclaimed. "That's one more thing you don't know about me. I have several idiosyncrasies. One of them is that I regard anal sex as the ultimate expression of one's commitment. Cuddling, fondling, mutual masturbation, even blow jobs are great but they are just the preliminaries. To me, anal sex is the consummation of a bonding between two men. Don't tell me that's irrational. I already know that it is. But I just prefer to equate it with intercourse between a man and a woman on their wedding night. It symbolizes to me the final, lasting promise of fidelity."

I let the subject drop with a simple, "Okay."

He responded with a question of his own. "I asked you some time ago how straight you were. I'm going to turn that around now and ask how gay are you."

It took me by surprise. I had given it considerable thought since our first visit to the lodge but my conclusions were still fuzzy. "I really don't know, Jim, but let me answer by telling you what I do know. First and foremost, I know I love you. By any and every definition of love that I can think of. If gay means loving another man, then I'm gay. But by learning from you about what it really means to be gay, I'm much less certain. When I see an attractive woman, I admire her beauty and, to be frank, I sometimes wonder what it would be like to bed her. When I see a good-looking man, I have similar thoughts but that has been a very recent reaction. If being a bonafide gay requires betting turned on by men only, then I come up lacking. However, as I said, that is gradually changing. As for gay sex--and let me assure you that I recognize it as just one part of a meaningful gay relationship--I've found that it is at least as satisfying as hetero sex. The biggest reason that I now enjoy gay sex is because it's with you...it's because it's an expression of something more substantial--love. If all of that sounds corny or ambiguous, I apologize but there's no simple answer to your question."

He continued looking at me, no doubt processing both what I said and other cues to what I thought. Finally, without saying anything, he responded in a way that made me feel he understood.
He leaned over and kissed me passionately.

One morning, after a disappointly rare sleepover, I said to Jim, "I want to thank you again for the enlightenment about gay sex, for your friendship, and for your patience while I was learning."

"Patience?" he remarked. "You're the one who's been patient waiting for me to make up my mind. Well I'm not going to try your patience any longer. I've decided that, if you're still willing, that I'd like to live together as partners. You've convinced me that you have the qualities I want in a partner and I'm confident that you have successfully navigated the transformation from straight to gay. I suppose this is a proposal. Will you be my mate?"

"Without a sliver of a doubt I will. I'm honored to be your partner, your friend, your lover, and your very very happy companion until death do us part."

"Then I have something for you," he said before getting out of bed, reaching into the pocket of his pants that hung from a bedside chair, and retrieving a small jewelry box. He opened it and withdrew a gold band. As he slipped it on my finger, he said, "With this ring, I thee wed. For now and evermore." He then gave me a passionate kiss in which our tongues danced with each other.

I was ecstatic. The man I loved more deeply every day had accepted me and, in effect, promised that we would stay together as a loving couple. However, a thought flashed through my mind.
"That's very sweet. You've made me very happy. But I didn't expect it so I don't have a ring for you."

"I knew it would be a surprise," he said. "So I took the liberty of getting two." He then fetched another jewelry box from his pants pocket and handed it to me. I removed it and he said, "Look at the inscription inside."

I read it aloud. "Brad Jim - forever."

"Yours says the same," he said.

I slipped the ring on his finger and said, "With this ring, I give you my heart, my mind, my unending loyalty, and if it comes to it, my life." He grinned at my choice of words. I grinned back and said, "It's official! We're a couple!"

"Not so fast, my love," he said. "We're not a couple yet." I was confused and no doubt showed my puzzlement. "We still have to consummate our bond. First, we have to have a celebratory dinner tonight. After dinner, we'll come back here for the ultimate expression of our love and commitment to each other."

I knew immediately that he was planning anal sex.

"May I suggest an alternate plan? Dinner tonight sounds wonderful but I'm ready to accept you into me right now."

"What? Are you afraid I'll change my mind between now and tonight? Trust me. I won't. And the anticipation will make it that much better. For both of us."

"One of the first things I learned from you is to trust you. We'll do it your way."

That night, with an astonishing degree of tender compassion, Jim led me into his bedroom and sat me on the edge of his bed. He sat next to me and asked, "Are you absolutely sure that you want to give up being an acceptable straight man and become a gay man?"

"If it means sharing my life with someone I've grown to love...that's you...then the answer is a definite yes."

Jim smiled and began to remove my clothes, synchronizing his efforts as he had done the first time in the lodge, by removing items of his own clothes as mine came off.

He laid me down on my back, kneeled between my legs, and placed two pillows under my hips. He asked me to place my legs on his shoulders. Before beginning the ritual mating, he said that he would go slowly and that I should tell him if I felt any discomfort.

As he prepared me to receive him, he alternated explaining what he was about to do with saying how much he had looked forward to sealing our union. Because he told me what to expect, I had no apprehension when I felt a lubed finger delve into my ass. Because he was so very careful, I felt no pain when a second finger slipped in. Because he knew exactly what to do, the sensations were extraordinarily erotic and arousing, especially when he stimulated my prostate. If I had any lingering doubts about why gay men engaged in anal sex, they were quickly and permanently dispelled as my pleasure steadily increased.

When his third finger slipped through the ring of my hole, I was nearly delirious from the sensations that radiated through my body and my mind. Quite apart from the purely physical sensations, I was overwhelmed with the symbolism of confirming our dedication to a lasting, loving relationship.

With no further explanation from Jim, I could tell that he had withdrawn in fingers and was slowly inserting his cock. He slipped in gradually, painlessly, until I could feel his pubic hair against my balls. He stayed imbedded for a moment and then began a slow in and out motion that, over time, increased in its pace. Where he had been watching me before to monitor my reactions, his eyes were now closed.

I could have gone on much longer, relishing the pleasures and recognizing what Jim felt was the momentous significance of his actions but, with one final thrust into me, he froze and filled me with his seed.

With his cock still imbedded in me, he leaned over and kissed me. We then snuggled together, totally happy and content, for quite some time and reaffirmed our mutual love and devotion to each other,

Then, it was time for me to complete the ritual. He positioned himself on his back with his legs on my shoulders. With a little coaching from Jim, I was able to relax his hole and slip my cock into him. As I began thrusting in and out, I could tell that he was periodically flexing his sphincter, which added significantly to the sensations that were enveloping me. I couldn't last very long and deposited my seed in his bowels.

Epilogue

Through some admittedly cursory research, I found that a surprising number of men transitioned from straight to gay but it seems that in nearly every instance their straight lives were in some degree a sham; they had been concealing their interests by conforming to societal expectations. But I have yet to find a case like my own--a man that initially felt absolutely no attraction to men or to gay sex (beyond adolescent experimentation) and who then fell in love with another man and who learned the sublime satisfaction that derives from both a committed relationship and the gay sex that gives it added meaning.

Jim and I have been together for five glorious years. Our love for each other grows stronger all the time. I sometimes think back to my straight life and become more convinced that my conversion from straight to gay was the best thing that ever happened to me.

 

Posted:06/15/07