Tom’s Story – Repression Leads to Explosions
Tom's Story - Repression Leads to Explosions
Del-Bird
Remember: you must be at least 18 years old and not offended by M/M sexual intercourse to read this story. If you are not either of those, do not blame me if you are offended, cause honestly if you are you deserve it. This is my first story, with a sequel to this coming out in the future, so please enjoy (if you're 18 years or older and like gay stories that is).
Being in the closet... Sucks. It sucks big balls. Being in the closet and married to a woman is even worse. But the worst is when you come home to find your wife banging another man when you get home from work!
I remembered the quick talk to Sam, the white wolf who works in the accounting firm at work. We talked about the weather. It was fucking cold outside, I know, but I didn't want to leave him. Call it attraction, call it a slight crush but he is the hottest wolf I'd ever seen, and I imagined us together almost immediately after meeting him. It helped to know he was bisexual.
I almost invited him into the car, but I didn't know where to I would go from there. Would we talk while I drove? Maybe pretend to miss a turn and then take the long way around to get some more time with him?
It didn't help that he was obviously annoyed with me.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I'll see you tomorrow." He sure left quickly, leaving me feeling pretty stupid about myself. But I let him go, because my wife, who I often bragged about to him just to find a way to talk to him without sounding like I was attracted to him (and there was an attraction!), was waiting for me at home, and it was getting late. In December, it still surprises me how dark it is at 5:00 pm.
The drive is about a half-hour long, and I get home at around 5:28 pm. Jessica is usually back from the hospital by then; the hospital has a lot of other nurses that can cover for her, so he takes off as early as possible. Hopefully to me, I used to think, but not anymore. Not after:
I get out my keys to open the door to my apartment as I climb the stairs, but as I turn the key in the lock I realize it's already opened. How odd. Of course, since this has never been opened when I got home before, even if Jessica is home, I enter carefully, making sure not to make too much noise as I open the door.
The living room is deserted, but a sound is coming from the bedroom. The sound of... I quickly hurry to the room as lightly as I can and peek into our bedroom through the narrow opening of the slightly open door.
There, on our bed, my wife, my beautiful wife, Mrs. Jessica Forey, is fucking another man. Not being raped, not struggling against the stranger ram in our bed, but moaning like a slut, occasionally leaning in to KISS HIM! WTF?!
I back away from the door, too shocked to keep from making choking sounds from the back of my throat in disgust. All I can do is just stand there while my wife cheats on me in the other room. Just as I am about to move, to walk away from the scene, a thought occurs to me...
Taking my cell phone, I go back up to the narrow slut just as I hear her telling him she's about to come and click the record button. I keep recording for three minutes as the bitch starts to come down from her sex high before hitting the stop button, turning around and leaving the accursed place.
I go back to my car and drive away, never looking back. For years that woman was my cage, my prison, holding me back. We had been set up by her family seven years ago. Now, at the age of 32 I finally feel grateful towards that woman; I now have an excuse to leave her sorry as and drop my disguise. I'm still terrified of coming out and admitting being gay to anyone, but now I have no ties weighing me down.
If she claims I made the whole thing up, my cell phone holds proof of her lie.
But, I'm lost. I don't know what to do. She's still at the apartments, with him, and I have nowhere else to go that doesn't involve work or her again until I'm ready to confront her.
But then I remember the gym. There's a gym near the office, not five blocks away and close to where Sam lives. I would usually go there before going home and get back by 6:45. That's why I have my gym clothes with me in the boot of the car.
Hmm, I decided to skip the gym today and get home early for my wife, only to find her bedding another man. I wonder how long she's been up to that.
I mull it over as I drive to the gym, get my stuff out and sign in. But as I change in the locker room I'm distracted.
He's beautiful. I honestly haven't seen another bull so amazing in terms looks and physique. He has black fur all over, which makes his muscles harder to identify, but the lighting made them bulge out more. And the fact that he was only wearing a towel helped. A lot.
He notices me staring and I feel flushed, but I don't stop admiring his physique.
"Don't feel the need to stop or anything", he teases. He teased me! Or he's flirting, one of the two, but I can't remember. "I'm Justin." I notice then how young he sounds, like maybe he's still in high school.
"I-I'm T-Thomas", I respond, embarrassed by my stutter. He chuckles, looks around him and walks toward me. For the second time today, and much too soon after the last time, I feel frozen in the spot.
"Hi, T-Thomas. How long have you been here? I don't remember seeing you here."
"I just got here. I, uh..." It's weird how awkward I feel about being with another guy. "I work at the law firm just a few blocks away."
"That's cool," he responds, still smiling. "I'm a senior in high school." So he is in high school. I chuckle to myself. "I thought so; I mean you're quit young."
"Thanks." He's very close now. How did this happen? Just a minute ago we were talking, and now...
His lips press against mine, as well as his body. I open my mouth, enjoying the sensation as his tongue traces my lips, our breaths mixing. Our breathing starts to pick up as his towel falls to the floor. His hands messaged my bare back, moving down to my ass just as mine were kneading his. His hands slipped into my pants while he moaned from the treatment I was giving his rear.
How did this happen so fast? The small part of me that clung to reason felt as if all that had transpired in the last hour should have happened over the course of the week. So why did I enjoy doing this? Why was I hard when Justin nipped on my neck? Why was I hoping this would go further? And immediately I knew the answer.
All my repressed urges, all my fantasizing about men and having sex with every stud I saw that I put at the back of my mind, were coming to the surface. It seemed like my body, my hormones, realized how free I was to now pursue those feelings and was intent on making up for seven lost years of repressed lust. And it was going to start with this young bull whose obvious hard-on was rubbing against mine...
I hadn't even noticed when he took off my pants and underwear.
Suddenly he's kissing me down my chest, over my well-developed abs, down to my cock. Kissing the tip, he looks up to me, smiles at me and then licks the tip before putting sucking on my head, going down until he got the first five inches down his throat. And I love it. I moan loudly, grabbing the back of his and helping him pump my cock with his hot, moist mouth, pushing him further down until I feel his lips in my crotch hair.
We continue like this for what feels like hours until he pulls off. At first I was upset.
"What are you doing? Don't stop!"
"Oh relax. I'm not done with you just yet," he answers slyly, like he had this planned from the start. Taking my hand, he pulls me into the shower, puts his arms around me and backs up against the wall, taking me with him. As we kiss, we slide down towards the floor. Before I now, his legs are around me, his hands going down my front as I take his head in my hands. Then I stop, smile at his puzzled expression and then move down to his cock. I kiss the tip and, as he looks at me expectantly, I pull him forward and raise his hips up. This exposes his ass to the air. I laugh a little at his shocked expression, get down and... lick his anal ring. His pucker clenches at the sensation as he gasps.
Before I can appreciate the fact that he cleaned that area very well before we met for very long, I go back to licking his fuck hole, slowly building pressure until I finally penetrate. There's a clack as his horns touch the floor from his throwing his head back in pleasure; it's obvious how into this he is, and I take confidence from that. I continue to fuck him with my tongue, ignoring the taste while his moans get louder. Getting an idea, I reach up and tug on his leaking cock, taking his pre as lubricant on my fingers.
"Hey, w-what are you doing?" Now it's his turn to stutter.
Taking my now sticky finger, I push it into his ass, going as deep as I can go. He clenches tightly on it, gritting his teeth. I pull myself back up so I can kiss him as I wiggle my finger in him, seducing my moans from him.
After we do this for a while, I pull my finger out of him and, as he grabs my head-fur, I take my throbbing cock up to his hole and push. As I continue to force my staff further into his fuck hole, he grinds his teeth, intent on not screaming in pain. As I pull back, he gasps as my cock slides out of him before quietly gasping as I push back in. He feels so warm and tight, squeezing my dick as I slowly fuck him. My thrusts increase in pace as I reel in ecstasy, and Justin's moans get loader and more pronounced as more from pleasure than pain. His arms are splayed out like and eagle as he takes what I have to dish out to him, grunting as I do, as his cock rubs off against my stomach.
After what feels like we've fucked forever, he suddenly starts clenching his ass as his orgasm rushes at him, causing me to let loose the stream of cum I had been saving for this moment deep into his bowels, claiming him as I moan loudly. His ass tenses as he cums, sighing as he spurts rope after rope onto his chest.
But before I can even enjoy the afterglow of male-on-male sex, it's ruined by the least expected person I ever thought I would run into here at the gym.
"Hey, Thomas!" I turn to find Sam, Sam Linkin, the wolf I've had a crush on for a good, long year now is there, smirking, like he's trying to hold in a laugh. As I stare back in horror, his lips twitch. Oh yeah, he wants to laugh.
"Samuel, what..."
"Just thought I'd come in to do a quick workout. Do you come here often? And do you regularly visit this gym?" He busts up then. "And you are?" He looks at Justin, who gulps under me before answering.
"Justin. Justin Crammers."
"Hi Justin. I'm Sam Linkin. I'm sure you already know Tom Forey, here. Very well, I might add." His taunting does it. I pull out of Justin as I get up, which seems to get to him, but I ignore that. I go up to him, towering over him.
"Don't you say a fucking word about this to anyone, you got that! Not even a fucking syllable!" I can't let anyone know about my preferences, especially not someone from work.
"Maybe I will, maybe I won't, but do you think threatening me is anyway to win me over?" He smiles innocently, but I know he's up to something.
And I'm right. "Maybe you should leave for today... And take Justin with you."
"Fuck you! You don't tell me what to do!" I can feel the rage on my face, but I can't quite reign in my panic. He smirks, then drops it, making him look serious and meaning business.
"OK, then how about this: leave me the fuck alone at work and shut up about my private life! The last thing I need is some hypocrite telling me how wonderful his marriage is when not even he can get enough cock from his wife..." What is he talking about? Oh. Going back over our conversations, I realize I do sound arrogant about my now failed marriage. But I shove the guilt aside and focus on him.
"Shut up! I will so get you for this, Sam!"
"I don't think so." With that, he storms out of the gym, taking his stuff with him.
For a while I just stand there, staring at the place where Sam left, but I eventually turn around to look at the black bull lying on the floor. He stares at me with a frown on his face.
"Mind telling me what the fuck that was about?"
* * *
It was later in the evening. Justin took me out to a bar while I explained the situation to him, about my wife, my colleague Sam, everything.
"It seems to me like you really like this guy. Maybe if you talked to him about the situation he might come onto your side."
"Ha! To him I'm just an arrogant jerk that rubbed my marriage in his private life." I put down my third beer and hold my head in my hands. "What am I going to do about him?"
"What can you do?" Justin asks. I look up to see in across to table, holding his second beer to his lips while looking away. "If I had to say so, your colleague didn't look that uninterested by what was going on between us."
"He's bi. There's not much that he saw that he probably didn't like." And Justin tells me he's a straight A student. Then again he does go up to random strangers and fuck them in public.
"I'm just saying he must feel very alone right now. It wouldn't hurt to try to get to know him in a more... personal way."
I contemplate the thought of Sam and I being more than friends, like I have done millions of times. But instead of us fucking, I picture us taking walks together, holding hands in an apartment as we watch TV. I imagine us going out to restaurants and traveling to other countries together.
And I like what I see. Ordering my fourth beer, I turn to Justin.
"Yeah, I can see us together. But I don't know where I would start off."
"Try doing something romantic or spontaneous. That usually works in movies and that type of crap." He get up, putting down his empty glass and taking his backpack. "I have to go. But maybe I'll see you around at the gym again, sometime?" He looks at me hopefully, and I can only guess what he's thinking.
"Yeah, sure. But next time, let's just be friends. Maybe by then you and that guy you were talking about will get together."
"What, Karl? I wish!" With that he heads for the door, turning back to wave at me before reaching the exit. When he's gone, I turn around and look at my reflection in my bottle.
So, something spontaneous and romantic, huh? I was never really creative. At least not while sober anyway.
"Hey, mister. Give me another one!"
"This will be your fifth, sir."
"Wow, I guess I must really start caring about that shouldn't I." The bartender walks away to get my fifth glass, huffing at my rudeness, but who gives a fuck. Once I get drunk I can start to think of ways to seduce Sam into becoming my boyfriend. After that, of course I'm gonna have to go back home and tell Jessica it's over between us, but I can't imagine her being too upset.
The bartender finally come back with my beer and, as I raise the bottle to my lips, I wonder what the night will bring.