THE BISEXUAL MARRIED MAN’S DILEMMA

INTRODUCING YOU TO A NEW CHARACTER I MET

WARNING

This blog does contain adult and gay material. If you are under your country's legal age (18 or 21), do not scroll down and leave this page now. Thanks

By Phillip Oropesa

Allow me to introduce myself: I am Phillip Argelio Oropesa. (Felipe) but everyone calls me Phil. I was born in Tampa to Cuban-American parents but I consider myself completely American. My parents came when they were very young and were not exposed to so much of the Cuban culture that it mattered at all to them…they were striving for the American dream, they even changed religion in the process and became very fanatical Evangelicals. I have agreed to do a series of guest posts for your blogger.

I had to grow up with all of that which you may by now deduce had a very negative effect and a damaging impact on my life and mind. It is not hard to imagine that being the fourth child in a family of religious fanatics it is not going to affect you in some way.

My young life was riddled with church activities and my education was totally at the St. Petersburg Christian Academy. I had therefore very little contact with “the outside world” I knew the Scriptures backwards and forward and could recite passages by memory totally verbatim. I have the gift of an almost photographic memory.

But not all is well in paradise. If there was ever a homosexual that was born that way, that would be me. My other siblings were female and thought pretty much the same way I did…actually even more radical. They were rebelling against a tyrannical religion and very inflexible parents who chose and picked those passages in the Bible they liked and carried them to extremes.

Naturally when you are raised in that kind of an atmosphere the guilt also accompanies you; it will hound you for the rest of your life because even as you become “enlightened” that guilt will continue to exist in the back of your mind…It is actually a scar on your soul, a stain on your intelligence and a barrier to the pursuit of happiness. That guilt will creep up at the worst times, spoiling any moments of real happiness you may be experiencing.

You probably have seen children like I was when I was little; they would much rather play with dolls than toy guns. They would avoid sports and enroll in a home economics class instead. They dress according to some unconventional role twisting manner. Their clothes will be brighter than what their peers wear and at times they will adopt an “androgynous” persona.

High School was torture for me; not only did I get bullied and ridiculed but I had to live with the humiliation of being a “fag” which in that fucking environment of the Christian school was the worst thing you could be. It took the self respect out of me, my self-esteem and my pride. But I knew I had to live with it because I was a “sinner” and I had to either change or perish.

On more than one occasion I considered taking my own life because I didn’t see my way clear out of my predicament. I could not help the way I felt and I could not change my attraction for other males. I included some of these attractive ones in my dreams and my fantasies. I began to build a little world in which I would be a female and them my husband.

Once I got to college things began to change and not faced with so much hostile attitudes I began to see that the rest of the world didn’t live by my parent’s or my religion’s standards. I also thought that it was possible for me to change my behavior or perhaps I was in denial.

I began to date women. At first it was awkward and contrived. I could not get an erection if my life depended on it. But as I progressed into more of the dating the opposite sex; by some miracle I “learned” to be sexually aroused by females. Don’t ask me how I did it…I think that there were times when I would be kissing or even having sex with a girl and all the time I was pretending she was Peter or Carlos. That was my way of coping with it.

Eventually I met a wonderful girl…well, wonderful at the time and we got very heavily involved in the romantic department. I told her about my insecurities and my homosexual tendencies from the outset so that there was no dishonesty on my part and all she did was to say that “I can change all that” She was perhaps counting on her sexual prowess, her charm and beauty to erase what can’t be erased, to change what nature intended.

It worked for a while. We actually took the plunge and got married but I was not happy; I was missing something in my life and it was the company and the sexual relation with another man. My wife became pregnant and totally rejected me…it was one of those pregnancies where the woman becomes a monster and rejects the husband.

The baby was born and she returned to some degree of normalcy although she still retained some of the contempt and rejection well beyond post partum blues. Then the second baby came…once I talked her into having sex again which she was adamant to grant me. She would use sex as a weapon…if I didn’t do a certain thing, if things didn’t go her way she would be pissed off for a week and there would be no sex.

It got to the point that I was finding those times actually rewarding to me because she started to turn me off so much…her body became fat and ugly, her face was not pretty anymore and her attitude was domineering and selfish…she was one of these “me, me, me” types.

There would be months going past us and we didn’t have any sexual intimacies. We slept in the same bed but I would be long asleep by the time she came to bed.

On the rare occasions that we had sex it was all about her. She could care less if I reached an orgasm or not. The position she wanted me to take while making love to her not even Houdini could assume. It was missionary position, with me squeezing one of her tits while stimulating her clit with my dick inside. Naturally I would bring her to an orgasm but it didn’t do anything for me…Almost all of the time I ended up in the bathroom, sitting in the toilet and jerking off.

All through my marriage the gay in me kept creeping out. I made beautiful flower arrangements; I would set an elegant table and cook a more than adequate gourmet meal. My wife and I would watch television and I would be looking at the men actors and fantasizing.

I am a computer geek and can do wonders in the programming department. I was employed by a computer company and made a pretty decent salary. It was a small company by any standard; only a dozen people but we had a stranglehold on the South America computer market.

And it was inevitable…it had to happen; my first gay experience at age 26. Our company was one of the vendors at the Las Vegas Computer show that is held every year. They have been setting up a booth and derive a lot of business from it. Of course I was sent to man the display and to sell stuff. I had my wife with me and there was another fellow who worked alongside my wife and I. His name was Peter and he was from Argentina.

I always looked at Peter and could not help but admire all of his qualities. He was not really handsome but a very rugged, masculine man and a very intelligent and sweet person. I knew that he had a nice body because when he wore tight pull over shirts the muscles would be accentuated. He had incredible biceps. And then there was a bulge in his pants…I don’t think the guy could help it; the fact is that when there is a bulge something is behind it and it is usually a very large penis and testicles or both.

We got there the night before rather late and Peter flew in with us and we each had a room. Of course I had my wife with me but he didn’t have to share. He told me on the way to security check at the airport that he intended to have some serious sex…I kind of laughed dismissing it as a joke.

So that the next day we were to go to the Convention Center and finish doing the set up. There was equipment to take out of the boxes, connections to be made and that sort of thing. Peter and I agreed that we would do it at one in the afternoon.

I gave my wife Rita $100 to go play the “slut” machines…that is what she calls them. She is a CAP, (Cuban-American Princess) and English is her second language although she doesn’t speak Spanish well either…more like SPANGLISH. After she left I went to Peter’s room and knocked at the door. Peter answered and was wearing a tight red shirt and blue jeans. He said: “Come on in, I just have to change clothes”

I’ll be dammed if he didn’t begin to strip in front of me…he was doing it methodically, very suggestively and slowly…letting me take it all in, he was coming on to me for sure, I thought.

Once he was completely naked he began to get an erection or he already had it by the time he lowered his underwear. He says to me: “Do you think I have a nice body?”

Me: “Uh, well, uh, yeah, it is very nice, but you spend so much time at the gym”

Peter: “Do you like my cock?”

Me: “Peter, what the hell are you saying?”

Peter: “How about my ass?” as he turned around and got close enough for me to touch it..”go ahead, touch it, squeeze it…my ass is very firm…wouldn’t you like to fuck it?”

Me: “Now I heard everything, I’m leaving”

He grabbed my hand to stop me and placed it on his cock. I did hold it and it was beautiful. It was uncut and about 7 inches. Then he took my hand and guided it towards his ass. I could have left at that point but didn’t. I wanted to see where this was going.

Peter then turned around and began to unbutton my shirt. He ran his hands over my chest and then began to kiss it and lick my nipples. I was a gonner at that point. I was surrendering to his advances and I knew I was helpless at that point. He kept undressing me and commented on how large my cock was and what a nice body I had. He also said: “That bitchy wife of yours doesn’t deserve to have such a nice stud for a husband…if I had you I would be pleasing you every night, two or three times a night if you wanted it, instead of not putting out the way she does” Peter knew about this intimate details because in a conversation I revealed it to him.

Now I was standing totally naked and so was Peter and he then went down on me. I had never had my cock sucked. My wife Rita says that is gross, so when Peter began to suck it I just shot my wad after only a couple of times in and out of his mouth. But my hard on never went away.

Peter then got up and offered me his cock…I looked at it with trepidation and then he brought it closer to my mouth and he held the back of my head and began to press his dick against my lips. I opened my mouth and allowed him in. I just couldn’t believe what I was doing…I actually was sucking a man’s cock…Does that make me gay? Would I turn totally gay all of a sudden? Those ideas were going through my mind as I was sucking him. But amazingly enough I liked it and I was wishing he would have an orgasm so I could taste it.

He never came that way…instead he turned around and offered me his ass once more. “Phil, wouldn’t you like to fuck my ass?” Before I could answer he was already backing on to my cock and sat on it, the ass just gave and it swallowed my big cock in one gulp.

I have to say that at that point nothing else mattered…it felt so good and I was making mental notes, comparing how much better that ass was to Rita’s cunt. Peter was now on the bed and I was kneeling and he was doing all the work. It was incredible the way he moved, with that ass of his contracting and letting go to the point that he had me ready to shoot my wad.

Me: “oh my God, I’m cumming again; ah, ah, ah, aaaaaah” My ejaculations are very copious and I deposited almost 1/4 cup of semen into his ass...it was leaking out while I was still pumping away.

After we fucked we took a cab to the Convention Center and did the set up. I was quiet for the rest of the afternoon…something very unusual in me…I had to drink it all in, to put into perspective what had just happened. Towards the end of the afternoon and into the early evening, once we finished the work Peter said that I needed a drink. I don’t drink at all because of my religious upbringing. But I had sucked cock and I had fucked a guy in the ass…surely I would burn in hell for that so a little drink was not going to add any more transgression points and I went. For the first time in my life I tasted liquor. It was wonderful; I was getting a buzz and we went back to the hotel and I just passed out on the bed. Peter took off my clothes and I remember him going down on me again but I am not sure if I came or not.

He left and I went into a very deep slumber. Rita came back and I was all passed out. She didn’t wake me either and the next morning I got up with a hangover. Rita asked me what happened and I told her that Peter had bought me drinks and that I just got drunk. But in my mind I was now a gay man…or at the very least bisexual. It had awakened in me all those dormant yens and I intended to do more…I was now ready to explore that big wide rainbow world out there.

I will tell you more in upcoming chapters…it gets a lot better