actual-photo – Page 2 – Grindr Fantasies

Ragefucked

“Come over and use that slutty mouth of yours on my cock.” The message blinks on my screen in the Starbucks where I’m working on my laptop. It’s from someone I’ve met before. I snap the lid closed. Twenty minutes later I’m there.

The slim brown guy answers the door in his tight white boxers, his black beard neatly trimmed. He’s freshly showered, but he looks tired. “Hey, how have you been?” He asks as I step in and take off my shoes.

“Not bad,” I tell him. “But took a break for a while. I had one of those month long colds. So I might be out practice.” This is my first hookup in six weeks.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, not hearing. “I had a boyfriend. But my friend called me up and said he saw him kissing a guy in the parking lot. I didn’t want to be believe it but it’s true.”

“Oh, that’s rough.”

His big shaggy black dog, usually jumping up at me excitedly, lay on a mat in the corner. She raises her head a little, gazes at me mournfully, sighs, and then lay down again.

We go in the bedroom and he strips, revealing his taut brown skin and his dark uncut cock. I’m staring.

“Take off your clothes man,” he tells me.

“Sure.” as I pull off my sweater he smiles just a little.

“Hey, you look great.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You lost weight or something since last time.”

Aww thanks. I’ve been lifting weights, and trying to bulk for nine months now. I’m bad at it. I managed to gain 15 pounds, but I gave up trying to stuff myself during my cold.

He lays back on the bed, resting on his elbows, nude. I can’t tear my eyes away from his crotch. I lay between his legs and wrap my lips around his penis. It flops and squishes, and his brown skin feels impossibly velvety against my tongue. He grabs it’s base between his fingers and I feel the blood rush in and it slowly fills my mouth. He lets out a slow breath, and gently caresses my hair, sending tingles through my scalp.

I let it slip out and I just want to stare at it. “You have a beautiful cock,” I tell him. It’s seven inches, and the end is a perfect glistening orb, pink as bubble-gum, wrapped in delicate brown skin. He watches me in amusement.

On the bed beside him, his phone lights up and interrupts us. His smile vanishes. “It’s him.” He says, and stabs the cancel button, silencing it.

Last time, we kissed passionately and frantically explored each others bodies. Now, he seems lost in thought as he shoves my head down to his penis. I mouth it and press in, feel it snap past my tonsils. His was the first dick that I ever deep throated without gagging.

He moves his fingers to his balls, presses them against my lips. “Get my balls in too.”

I’m already at my limit but I push down further, let one slip in. He uses his index finger and I feel its partner follow.

I shift, and his glans scrapes the back of my throat. It sends a shiver through his body. He moans, “Oh man that’s good.” He stares at me with his brown eyes, and I know what’s coming next. I feel his two hands on my scalp, pushing me down as he tries to hit that spot on my throat again. He humps hard, lifting his ass of the bed and succeeds. I use the opportunity to slide my hands behind him. His ass cheeks are perfect, I can cup them in my hands. I squeeze them and let my hands slip inside his crack.

MURAARPH. A gutteral, horrible sound comes out of me. I retch, I’m choking and pull off, leaving a string of thick throat mucous all over his cock.

After I swallow, he presses me down again, and starts to hump quickly. He needs to hit that spot. Repeatedly. And hard. He manages 15 or 20 quick thrusts before I retch again. I get up and wipe my face off with the back of my arm.

He leaps up, throws his pillow at the foot of the bed. “Lay down. On your back.” He looms over me, bends my legs back and eagerly strokes my anus. “Have you let anyone in yet?” he asks hopefully.

The look on my face answers for me.

He’s not happy. He moves to the floor at foot of the bed behind me. He stands there, his dick raging above my face. He locks eyes with me.

“Open your mouth. I’m going to fuck you.”

I lean my head back and he shoves himself in and holds it there. The angle lets him go deep, further than anything’s ever been that wasn’t food. It’s fucking hot staring into his the stubble of his butt crack. I wonder when he’s going to grab my penis, or if I will have to do it.

But he’s in his own world now, and when he starts to fuck, my hands fly up to his waist to guide him, or maybe to push him away. He fucks like he doesn’t care. It’s hot.

I retch again. I barely managed to swallow the fluid and he shoves back in, humping faster this time. He thrusts in short bursts, like a hare in heat. When he permits me to breathe, I don’t know if it’s for my comfort or if he’s just doing it so it won’t end.

MMMRAURGH. I taste the pumpkin spice latte I had for breakfast. It’s too much. I sit up, grab a towel, and wipe my face off.

He sighs, flops back down on the bed and jerks himself.

When I lean in and give him a lick, he latches on to a fistful of hair. “Suck on my balls,” he demands. I roll his nuts in my mouth as much as I can while he jerks. I can feel his heart pounding. “You want my cum?” He asks.

“Mmm hmm”

“I said do you want my cum?” He stops and holds his penis up. It throbs. “Then make me cum with your mouth.”

I take it in my mouth and try my best. But then he angrily grabs my head and moves it for me, jerking it up and down. “Yeah, suck it you cocksucker. Suck my fucking cock!”

Now I know how a paint mixer feels. I relax and try to keep my teeth away, while he drills my face down further and further onto his dick. I’m about to retch again, when suddenly his ass lifts off the mattress and I know he’s too close, he will never let me stop, so I close my eyes and will away the urge. My nose slams against bone. I feel beads of sweat as I grip his ass cheeks.

“I’m cumming,” he finally exclaims, and in the same moment the phone rings again. It lights up beside me, ignored. He roars and locks my head in place, and his whole body thrusts up like he’s being electrocuted, and his dick is the centre of it all. I feel it pulsing against my lip and his angry load surges out deep inside me.

He takes a deep breath and reluctantly lets go of my hair. He’s cradling the phone against his cheek, speaking in hushed tones while I suck the rest out of him. “Yeah. The phone was in the bedroom,” he explains. I only catch bits and pieces of the conversation. When he’s clean, I hunt for my socks and quickly get dressed. “I love you too,” I hear him tell the caller. I feel awkward. I tip-toe over the dog on the way to the door.

Before I can leave, he rushes out of the room, dick flopping in the air, phone in hand. He smiles, eyes full of warmth and gratitude, puts his arms around me and squeezes me close. “Thanks man,” he whispers in my ear. “I really needed you today. You’re awesome.”

Yeah, it was hot. My throat is raw but I’m grinning as I drive back to work. After that rage fuck I can take anything.

Danger House

The rain’s been pelting my wind shield for an hour when I finally pull up to his suburban street. I almost drive right past him under the streetlights. The tall asian twenty-something huddles in his black wind breaker beside the stop sign. I wave. He gets in my car.

“Hey.” he says.

“Hey,” I tell him. Grindr in real life.

I have no inkling where I am. Earlier in the day I installed FakeGps on my phone, so I could set this up in the afternoon. Luckily, this guy was free at the time I would be passing through. He couldn’t host, but he knew a place we could go. It sounded sketchy and dangerous.

I agreed immediately.

He directs me down the slick streets through the night. My wind shield wipers give way to the downpour, and I can’t even make out the lane markings on the dark country roads. We get to an intersection blocked by an orange detour sign.

“It’s back there. Just keep going. There’s no other houses or anyone around for miles.”

“Okay…” I drive the car on the shoulder and around the sign. Gravel crackles under my tires. After about a kilometre, I slow down. The street ends and we can go no further. I see a construction trailer on the side of the road. It’s set up in the driveway of a small brick house. I pull into the small space left beside the trailer. As I turn off the car, my car door swings shut. He’s already gone.

I grab my phone, lock up, and chase him through the pouring rain. I can barely make out the path in the darkness.

He’s waiting at the top of the porch. He kicks the door and it flings open, loudly bouncing against the door jamb. It’s pitch black and with a step he disappears inside. I take a deep breath and follow, eager to get out of the rain.

His phone lights up the place, casting long shadows. I’m in the X-Files. The house has been stripped of all life. The only thing left are the ghostly silk curtains, forgotten and mournfully swaying over the hardwood floor in the living room.

“This whole place is going to be torn down soon,” he explains.

“Um, aren’t there usually hobos sleeping in these places?”

“My friend moved out a couple weeks ago. I don’t think anyone has found it yet. Watch your step.”

We descend the damp, carpeted steps into the basement, and shards of plaster crunch under my wet shoes. I look up. The ceiling has been bashed in and bare electrical wires dangle an inch from my face.

We turn the corner into a large room with the remains of a fireplace. This was once a cosy den. Years ago, some child must have waited here with excitement for Santa, baiting him with milk and cookies by the crackling fire. Today, the floor is covered in detritus and bits of drywall. A small roach meanders along a huge crack in the wall.

He puts his phone on the baseboard, carefully pointing it away from the window. The tiny LED fills the room with creepy shadows. Without pausing, he unbuckles and strips off his pants and underwear.

He lays back on the floor, naked from the waist down, puts his hands behind his head and looks at me expectantly. His flaccid brown penis flops down over his large nut-sack. They’ve been shaved smooth for me.

“I’ll start slow,” I tell him.

“Sure. We’ve got lots of time.”

I lay on my belly, resting my arms on the carpet between his legs. I lick his balls and taste nothing. He’s had plenty of time to shower. I take his dick in my mouth and slowly suck. I let go, and we watch it grow hard.

My own boner rubs the floor through my jeans. It feels very nice, and I hump the carpet while I suck him off. He doesn’t make much noise, but I can tell by his face that he’s enjoying it.

“Where should I cum?” he asks me.

“Right here,” I stick out my tongue, to show him it’s alright, and then get back to twisting and sucking his penis. He tightens his muscles, and it flexes and hardens. It turns me on. He’s a quiet one. I have no idea how far along he is, or if he’s enjoying it at all. I know I am. I live for this. Sucking a nice, fat cock has been my dream since I was a teenager.

“I think I’m coming,” he warns me. I feel a hot jet of his jizz shoot against middle of my tongue. It’s a nice, thick glob, and it doesn’t taste like anything. I roll it across my tongue as I gently suck him clean.

On the way back we talk. “Once I had a guy sucking on me for 20 minutes,” he relates, “and nothing was happening. But he wasn’t good like you.”

Well, I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. Studying anatomy and sensitivity diagrams on wikipedia. Porn too, but half the time they don’t know what they’re doing.

“When are you in town again?” he asks.

Soon, I hope.

“I said SUCK IT, bitch.”

I get out of the car into the blackness of night and hear a thousand crickets screaming. This narrow street was carved out of a thick forest with hopeless optimism by some long dead city planner. The windows of the ancient brick houses are empty and dark.

For the first time in a while, I’m scared. I walk behind the drooping branches of some weeping willow trees, out of sight.

The light from my phone assaults my eyes as I scroll through the last message from him. There it is, gleaming in blue:

“Finally i can facefuck u”

“Here.” I text, and turn off the screen.

A minute later a tall dark figure slinks from down the road. He’s wearing dark track pants and a skimpy black tank top. I walk briskly to catch up with him.

“Hi, I’m here to meet someone,” I say, flashing the orange screen on my phone.

“Yeah,” the 18yo smiles, “You’re here to meet me. Is this your car?” He wants to drive somewhere. Okay.

We get in my small two-door Toyota and he looks out the window. “Sorry, I just don’t want to be seen. Actually, can I ride in the back?”

I glance behind at the huge Graco baby seat. “No, not much room. Just crouch down.”

He bends over, head scrunched against my glove compartment. As I drive he directs me down the narrow road and around the corner. Gravel crackles under my tires when I slow to a stop in front of a small dilapidated chapel.

“Please tell me, is there anybody around?” he asks.

“Nobody.”

“Okay.” He unfolds himself and we step out of the car, slowly closing the doors until they just click. He turns and disappears into the thick forest.

There’s no moon tonight, and I stumble over some fallen branches to chase after him.

“Don’t worry, I know this place. I used to come here with my ex.” He lights the way, just barely, with his phone’s screen.

As we walk, he gets close to me and slides his hand across the front of my shorts. I reach over and feel the curve of his ass, and caress his bulge. I’m happily surprised when I touch the smooth rigid head of his penis. It peeks out, pinned against his abs by the elastic of his track pants.

We‘re deep in the woods now. Just when I lose the sense of where the road was, we finally stop in front of a musty moss-covered log.

“Here’s good,” he says.

“Sure.” I take off my shirt and toss it on the leafy ground. We embrace, feeling each-other’s bodies. Then he shoves me down to my knees.

His cock is thick and cut, just as advertised. His glans is like a giant bell at the end, much bigger than the shaft. I run my hands on it. Hard as oak.

Suddenly, he reaches down to my cheek. “Suck it, bitch.” Slap.

Ow. Hot. I take it all in without gagging, silently pleased with my new skill. I feel his hands pressing on the back of my skull, holding me to him. His thick pubic hair scratches my nostrils.

“Yeah, like that,” he breathes. He leans into me, and I’m holding up his weight with my face. The only reason I don’t fall over is my big toe, which is bent backwards on the soft ground behind me. It’s flexed beyond it limits, and I can’t keep my balance for very long. I push his pelvis away and focus on moving up and down, letting my tongue dance against the substantial underside of his cock.

He rewards me with another slap on the cheek. “Stand up.” He yanks me up, then pushes my shorts down. He grabs my penis and gives it a few strokes, but not enough. Then he turns around and falls into me, pushes his ass against my penis. I reach around and keep stroking him. He lays his head back onto my shoulder, exposing his long smooth neck. I gently nibble on him, moving slowly up to his cheek. It looks like we’re going to kiss, but he breaks away.

“You’ve been drinking?” he asks.

“Yeah, a couple of beers earlier.” The only reason I could come out late was because of a rare meetup with old school friends. All of us are in our 30s, and we drank fancy beers and ate tiny plates of gourmet smoked poutine until they tired at 9:30. My wife doesn’t expect me home until midnight.

He pushes me down again, and sharp stones cut into my knees. He raises his tank top, revealing outline of his flat tummy. My eyes are used to the dark now. He stands there and lets me admire his body. His arms and pecs have the defined bulges of a care-free teenager with no body fat. Small muscles, and proud of them. He stares into my eyes and smiles with glee, flashing his white teeth. He reaches down, as if to caress me.

Instead, he slaps my face again. “I said suck it, bitch.”

He shoves his dick into my mouth, and I do my best to not let his giant bell catch on my molars.

“Fuck,” he says. Encouraged, I give it everything, caressing his balls and moving my tongue around his shaft.

“Oh fuck!” he says again, exhales in frustration. “These damn mosquitoes!”

Gotta change it up. I let him slide all the way in, and I feel his penis enter my throat. No more gagging. I try to swallow it down for as long as I can, then I’m forced to let up for air.

“Use more suction,” he demands.

Suction? I’ve never used suction before. That’s interesting! I mentally file this away, then I start sucking. Like this? I stare up into his eyes. My cheeks pinch in on the out-stroke.

“Yeah, that’s good. Like really good.”

After a minute he pulls out and holds it in front of my face. “Spit on it.”

I spit, and pity the circumcised men of the world. He arches back, and wet skin smacks together as the teenager coaxes himself toward imminent release.

“Okay, take it in your mouth. Now.” he orders. He stabs it through my lips, and starts to face-fuck me.

Too soon, he stops thrusting, groans, and pumps out a watery load of bitter cum. I swallow it down, and move to get my shorts back on.

In a flash, he bashes his palm against my shoulder, shoving me back to the ground. I get another slap on the cheek. “Clean it up.”

Okay. I put my mouth on it gingerly.

“No! Don’t suck, just clean it.”

Chagrined, I gently swab the tip of his softening penis with my tongue. He holds it out for me, turning it this way and that as it softens and droops. I stay there, my back and knees aching, until all trace of the bitterness is gone.

Back in my car, he crouches in the seat again, cowering. I drop him off in the dark corner of the street, and he vanishes into the night.

I can still taste his twink cum, and I love it.

Minty Fresh

It’s 6 in the morning and I’m working out downstairs. I don’t know why I bother with Grindr at this hour. It gives me something to do between sets, I guess. Usually, only that 47yo farmer tries to chat with me. Today is different.

I get a message from an fit indian guy, a runner. “Looking?” he asks.

“I’m looking for something to suck on,” I tell him.

“I’m looking to be sucked,” he says.

Hot and compatible interests. That’s all you need on Grindr. We arrange to meet later that afternoon.

Strangely, he goes silent the rest of the day. I drive up to his apartment, and it turns out he’s the fucking superintendent.

I’m convinced it’s a prank. I buzz in, and he takes a minute to answer. I tell the voice I’m here for an appointment. “About the app.”

“OK come up,” he says.

When he answers the door, my fears are allayed. He’s in his boxer shorts. He has a runner’s body, with a perfectly flat tummy. His chest is covered in black hair, the same colour as his short beard. His large dog excitedly jumps up at me.

“Sorry I fell asleep until now.” He leads me to his room, banishes the dog, and goes to wash up. I look around his room. It’s messy, but the bed is made. I put my hand down my pants, determined to be hard before we start, for once.

He comes in and sheds his underwear, his uncut cock hangs down, flaccid as well. We haven’t really chatted about what we want to do. He lays on the bed and flicks it up at me, smiles.

I get between his legs and suck on it until it grows hard. He relaxes, lets me work on him.

“Is your ass clean?” He asks.

I change direction and sit on his chest. From this angle, I slowly eat his cock and prepare to gag.

But it doesn’t happen.

Instead, I feel it slide into my throat, and keep going, until my chin hits bone. I smell his sweet musk under his balls.

I’m flabbergasted. What the fuck– I can deep throat now. I guess nearly choking on that engaged Asian guy’s cock had a lasting effect.

I feel a slick finger pushing into my anus. It feels foreign, and my ass muscles clench shut. I gasp and lay my cheek against his thigh as he forces in another finger, pries me open. I’ve never felt anything like it. It feels good, but I don’t know what will happen, and fearing the ultimate embarrassment, I pull away.

I’m laying on my belly and he gets up now. I feel the warmth of his body as he lays on top of me. His cock presses against my crack, and he starts to hump.

I can feel his hot breath on my ear. “Do you want me in you?”

“Not today,” I tell him. “It would be the first time.”

He slows up, but keeps on humping, his penis slipping further in, dangerously close to my anus. He wouldn’t, would he?

I need to think of something else in a hurry. I turn to my side and bring my mouth closer to his.

It works. We kiss.

But it is more than a kiss. We’re making out. I think back to the last time I made out with the 20yo Adam. I didn’t like it. But something is different this time.

He presses his tongue into my mouth, and I realize what is different. Minty fresh. I can see the box of Excel gum on his desk. Seriously? Is that all it takes to seduce me into kissing a man?

His beard is soft against my skin, and I push back with my tongue until I’m leading. We are sideways now, hands frantically exploring each other’s bodies.

When I’ve had enough, I push him over, and sit on his chest. He’d been nibbling at it earlier, so I know this will work. Sure enough, he opens his mouth. I put my palms on his bed and slide in.

Then I feel his finger again, pressing into my anus.

“Oh my god, that feels good,” I utter, as I fuck his mouth. I have never felt this much pleasure before, from the front and back at the same time.

Too much. It only takes few seconds. “I’m gonna…” I have no choice, there’s no time to warn him, and we didn’t discuss it in advance. I pull out quickly, arching my back over him, trying to keep it in.

Instead, we watch as my penis erupts, white cum welling up and spilling over the edge like an old drinking fountain. It soaks into his chest hairs. It’s going to be messy, so I pull back and spill my load all over his penis instead.

He stares at me. What is he thinking?

“Sorry,” I tell him, grinning sheepishly. “Let me clean that up for you.”

I put my mouth around him and taste my own cum, sweet and bleachy. Messily I bob and lick and blow him.

“Oh man that’s so hot,” he tells me, staring with his large brown eyes.

He scoops up some cum from his abs with his finger. “Clean that up,” he says, and presses it to my lips. I suck it clean, then I lick as much I can from his taut tummy before moving back to his penis.

“Yeah suck my cock,” he tells me. He puts one hand on my head and starts to hump from below, eyes shut in quiet concentration.

In a moment I taste his cum. It gushes thickly onto my tongue. He watches with interest so I stare into his brown eyes and let some dribble out of my mouth. It runs down his penis and settles on his pubes. I lick his cock until it’s as clean as before I started. And a whole lot softer.

When we pull on our clothes, he asks me if I’m going downtown. “Can you give me a lift?”

“Sure,” I tell him. Who needs Uber, when you’ve got Grindr?

We talk on the way. He’s bi too, and we share stories. I tell him how I was first seduced. It happened three months ago, with a 19yo in his dad’s SUV.

Then he tells me his story. His girlfriend broke up with him when she learned he was bi, even though he had never done anything. She couldn’t handle it.

Once, at a party with his friends, he won at a game of ball-toss, and his friend offered him a handjob as reward. He dismissed it, and didn’t think anything of it, until one day he found this same friend sprawled out on his bed. That’s how it happened.

He’s fun to talk to, and we seem to click.

“Some day when I am married, you and I are going to be good friends,” he laughs, as he leaves my car.

Extra Marital Bliss

“Hey man, wanna come over to my condo at lunch today?”

An apartment with a bed and no pesky room-mate around? Meeting horizontally is a rare treat in University Town.

“Sure,” I write back. I balance the phone on the toilet tank, and grab a diaper. My 11 month old just woke up. My wife should be back soon to take over and I’ll leave for work.

Yesterday I’d been chatting with this bi torso. He’s engaged, and we seem to get along well.

“Have you ever tasted your own cum?” he asks.

“Yup. It’s like sweet nectar of the gods. And bleach.”

“Hahaha… I can’t wait to taste it :)”

Those are words I like to hear.

I meet him in the lobby of his apartment. He’s asian, strong and compact. His gray T-shirt hangs off his V-shaped torso. We make easy conversation in the elevator.

In his apartment, the unmatched furnishings and the printer on the kitchen counter reveal that his fiancee probably doesn’t live here. His bedroom is spacious and contains only a bed. It would be Zen, except plastic tote boxes piled against the wall threaten to come crashing down at any minute.

Definitely not gay.

I look out at the trees far below the apartment window. The curtains are missing.

He comes up behind me and puts his hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry. No-one can see us up here.”

I spin around. He’s so close I can smell the sweat on him. It seems like we should kiss, but neither of us want to go there. Instead, I reach down and peel his shirt up, revealing a set of honey-brown abs. In a moment, we’re both down to our underwear.

“This will take longer than five minutes,” he tells me. referring to my other story. He kneels and munches my goods through my underwear. (SAXX Kinetic Brief Fly, $30) I lean against the side of the window and watch him, and run my hands down his back.

But one thing works best to turn me on.

We switch, and I pull down his black boxers. His uncut cock juts out at me, his glans perfectly pink and smooth. It looks like the perfect size for me. I just have to know, so I skip to the good part: I take it all in. It tastes wonderful, and its smooth end just lightly nestles against the back of my throat. I know immediately that I am going to like this guy.

“Lay down, I want to suck you too,” he says. I settle onto the mattress.

“Oh wow,” he exclaims, as he grabs my 6.5” erection. I lay back against the wall as he sucks on my penis. God it feels good. My wife does it best, of course, but it’s been about six months since the last time.

“Want to 69?” I ask when he comes up to breath.

His eyes light up. “Sure,” he says, and we lie sideways against each other.

For me, the hottest part of a man’s body is the little crack between his legs, under his balls. I stare at his and pretend his cock is candy. It’s his turn to moan. Everything I do is turning him on, and he returns the favour.

I use his moans as a guide, and bring him to the edge, then back down, once, then twice. I love teasing him, but he shifts his weight, and suddenly he’s in control. He’s on top of me, thrusting down, pressing his penis against my throat. It just fit before, but now he’s more aroused. With his bodyweight, he shoves himself all the way in, and I panic. I can’t breathe.

I push his hips up and take a quick breath, so I can stop gagging. But he plunges down again, banging against my throat, still moaning. I feel like I’m going to vomit. But it’s fucking hot. I feel utterly dominated. My mouth is his fuck toy.

I’m so distracted, I don’t notice my own feelings down there until they’re unstoppable. I’m going to cum, but I can’t warn him. I let out some desperate moans. And then it happens, sweet release. With the gusto of his urgent need, he sucks it out of me, hungrily.

And then he lets off, allows me to sit up. I quickly wipe the tears off my cheeks. He doesn’t notice. He half stands on the bed, grabs my head and starts to fuck my throat again. I reach around and pull him to me. His moans become faster, more urgent.

When he cums, it lasts a long time. I can feel every strong pulse against my lower lip. There must have been 10 spurts right down my throat, but I taste very little. Finally he drops me, and we both settle down into the bed.

Drained.

As our cocks shrink, we talk. He’s getting married in a few months.

“It’s good that you’re exploring now,” I tell him. “I never did.” I was shy throughout school. After only two awkward lunch dates with girls, I found my soul mate and never looked back. By then, it wasn’t a stretch to stay a PIV virgin until my wedding night.

“Yeah, I guess,” he says, and looks to the blue sky outside the window.

Gazing at the sunlight streaming in from the bare window, I have an epiphany. Bi men often seek other bi men, because the rest of the world sees us as shifty liars. Jilted lovers are quick to point accusing fingers if we happen to switch sides. It’s unfair, because most bi men have completely normal, committed, monogamous relationships.

Us? We are both cheating. We understand one another.

“How do you initiate sex?” he asks.

“Well, it’s rough right now with the baby,” I tell him. Before kids, Sunday was our day, but it ended up being once a month anyway. Now, with three kids under five, we’re both exhausted. The pregnancy was not a good one, and afterwards, the baby seemed to drain from her breasts any remaining whiff of her sexuality. Blowjobs were all she could manage. One night, fatigued after a long week at home with our son, she admitted that our “intimacy time” was yet another chore on her long list of things to do. I stopped asking.

“She gave you blowjobs?” he asks incredulously.

You poor man.

I dispense more marital advice, stories of battles over knives in the dishwasher, compromise, and how to live with your soul mate.

“It was easy to move in together,” I tell him. “It was different than a roommate, because I really liked her.” Like her, I quickly correct myself. “You know what they say. ‘Happy wife, happy life!’” I chuckle.

“Right.”