What can I say about Bob? When I first came into contact with him it was through a website devoted to gay, gay-curious, bi, and even the occasional so-called ‘straight’ guys looking for some good sex. I didn’t regard myself as gay. Rather, I thought of myself (and still do) as bisexual, with an occasional penchant for something like gay sex. But what about Bob?
Bob was, without doubt, pretty much gay. Of course, he’d been married once. He even had a son and daughter, and, according to him, he and his ex-wife were, in his words: “Good friends. Better than we were when we’d been married!” When I knew Bob (this is now close to five years ago), he was still working (even at the age of 67). Later, when he retired, that was when he started a glory hole in the privacy of his townhouse, and that was when I began seeing him in that capacity on a much more regular basis than I had before.
Now, before I go on, I have to make a confession. I’m married. Okay? I was married then, and I’m still married (to the same woman I was back then); and yes—I did feel more than a little (how shall I say it?) ‘guilty?’, ‘conflicted?’ (all of that)—and yet, and largely thanks to menopause, I was horny, and so I started visiting Bob in spite of the inner conflicts I felt about doing so.
I love my wife…but, in the interests of being honest and truthful…she never liked sucking cock. Mine, or anyone else’s for that matter; yet Bob absolutely LOVED sucking cock; and that made him extremely good at it! So, after the first time I ever went to his place, I knew that I was definitely going to go back again (and, hopefully, again, and again, and again)!
At first I thought the glory hole setting was emotionally cold and impersonal—but that rapidly changed once I had my cock through that neatly cut and nicely finished round hole.
“Just stand there,” Bob’s voice could be heard saying from the other side, “and enjoy. Let me do all the rest!”
That was exactly what I did, and I was soon totally locked into the entire experience. I’d had sex with women, my wife included, of course, but what Bob did that day was quite unlike anything I’d ever known. To say that it was ‘like’ intercourse isn’t really true. There are aspects that are similar, of course. But taken as a whole, Bob’s mouth was just different than a pussy; it was more…supple; compliant; responsive; interactive! It MOVED. It could be loose, or snug. It could move rapidly, or so slowly it was barely moving. It was warm, and wet like a vagina…yet it was most definitely not a vagina. It was his mouth! His tongue! His lips!