For the first 44 years of my life, I neither had, nor had considered any sexual liaisons with anyone of the same sex.
This was until the following took place:
Just to give you an idea of me, I am a tall slim (but not skinny) man, with short brown hair and blue eyes. I was in the car with my wife travelling to a music festival, we were having a row. I won't bore you with what it was about (as it's not particularly relevant) but it was getting quite heated and my wife's driving was becoming more erratic.
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Walter Pinge has no life. It was a phrase commonly heard whispered across the floor. That, and talk of how committed he was to his job.
He sat in his private office, day in and day out, quietly number crunching, his obviously intellectual mind constantly churning over behind his thick, black-rimmed glasses.
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"You cannot put it off any longer, my friend. If you do not choose for Asu soon, the priests will take him. The choice will no longer be yours—or Asu's. He is of age for starting the life chosen for him. He cannot do other than meet his destiny."
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Cliff took me for granted. For some reason he thought I was safe. Once I overheard him tell one of those guys he brought home that he wanted only straight roommates, guys who wouldn't hit on him, because he only wanted to fuck when he was in the mood. Well, he had been in the mood a lot these past several weeks.
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Sharon and I have been married close to seven years now, and for the most part it's been great. The sex isn't as plentiful or varied as it was at first, but I gather that's par for the course. I've never felt the need to have sex with anyone else, unless you count Bruno. I consider myself completely straight, but a while back I bought a dildo (that's Bruno) and I like to use it on myself whenever I get a chance. Even that had purely heterosexual origins.
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My wife and I are both professionals and have been married for over six years. Unlike her, my job requires me to travel during the week. I'm a computer consultant and the nature of my business keeps me on the road from one project to the next and I'm always meeting new people to work with.
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I love cock. Can't deny it. Can't escape it. Not guys, as such, but COCK. I am married, love my wife and family, and will do nothing to endanger them or my marriage. But I love cock. Am I repeating myself?
With local University connections, I am able to make use of the 5 different gyms and work-out centers on campus, in addition to the 3 pools they have. I admit, that at the pools I spend way more time looking at the co-eds, than anything or anyone else.
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Several months after I had parted from Jeff and a few weeks after my experience with Lionel (recounted in Chapter 15) three things happened virtually simultaneously. Firstly my wife, in a regular phone call with our daughter, told her that her lover was ill and being taken to hospital. I was not sorry for him, indeed I hoped that he would soon be dead, but I was sorry to think of the anxiety it would cause her. The second thing that happened gave me a shock.
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I slid off my heavy backpack in the shade of a stand of Lodgepole Pine. It was 1980, the summer after I graduated from college. I had put life on hold to hike the Colorado Trail. I had no attachments, no appointments to keep, no place I had to be but on the trail and in the moment.
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It had all started innocently enough. We had just finished the gig when Bill came up and offered to buy us both a drink. To be honest I couldn't remember his name at first, but Julie my partner and vocalist, whispered it into my ear as Bill went to the bar. Julie's much better than me at remembering names, and has often got me out of embarrassing moments.
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