My Transition

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My transition into male sex occurred a number of years ago after my first wife passed away following an extended illness. She had been unable to engage in sex for some time, and so I dealt with my physical needs the best I could, mostly through chronic, habitual masturbation. The months following her passing were very difficult for me emotionally, and I was having a hard time dealing with the grief, and the guilt. I had periodically struggled with bouts of guilt since high school, when I began to use masturbation to help deal with stress and insecurities. Back then, it was referred to as “abusing oneself”. I tried to stay busy and exercise to manage these urges, but when that did not work, masturbation (usually in conjunction with anal stimulation) became my “drug of choice”, as it were. I thought marriage would alleviate the need for this, and it did, for a while. But, compulsive, addictive behaviors are hard to break, and I found myself despairing over my lack of self-control. An even greater threat to my battered conscience was my growing desire for close physical intimacy with another male. Throughout my life, my traditional Southern upbringing and church teaching consistently taught me that such desires and behaviors are, at best, morally disordered, and at worst – well, you get the idea. Right or wrong, this was poured into my istanbul escort foundation from the very beginning. So, it should not have come as a surprise that this would be a source of emotional turmoil, especially when these thoughts occasionally gave way to outright craving for sexual union with a male lover. My taste for male sex (no pun intended) had been awakened some years earlier by an experience involving anonymous sex through a gloryhole at an adult video arcade, an experience for which I had repented profusely and repeatedly. I tried repressing these feelings as best I could, marshalling all of the Stoic resolve and spiritual strength that I could muster. But, in the end, it amounted to little more than token resistance. I could never share this struggle with anyone, or so I thought. It was during this period I was befriended by a fellow from church named Ken, whom I discovered was also a widower. He was a soft-spoken guy, about twenty years my senior, with a few extra pounds and a gray goatee. I learned that he had been in the ministry at some point, but had since retired. I can’t explain why, but I found myself attracted by his winsome personality, easy-going demeanor, and strange twinkle in his eyes. He invited me over to his house for dinner one evening, and I accepted. Following dinner, istanbul escort bayan we were seated on a couch in the living room, sharing our respective stories and experiences. He seemed like a wise father-figure, and I felt free to express my thoughts and feelings. I even felt safe to share some of my secret struggles. During the course of doing so, I broke down, whereupon he slid over and held me in a strong, manly hug. I embraced him in return, and as my tears began to subside, I felt the whiskers of his goatee on the side of my neck. This was followed by soft kisses on the side of my face. I turned to face him, and our lips met, then our tongues. It all seemed so natural, so intimate. At that point I melted into him, releasing years of suppressed passions and physical needs. Our clothes were quickly discarded, revealing our mutual arousal. We engaged in a prolonged period of nude cuddling, kissing, and fondling. He led me to his bedroom, and we resumed our foreplay on his bed. His kisses trailed down to my nipples, over my stomach, and to my erection, which was drooling copious amounts of precum. He gently kissed and licked my hard shaft and sensitive head, and then, looking into my eyes, took it fully into his mouth. The feeling was indescribable, and I responded with moans as I watched Escort istanbul my cock disappear between his lips. “Oh my god, Ken…yesss, pleeezze!” I was so aroused that I barely lasted a minute before I groaned and erupted in an explosive orgasm. He took it all in his mouth, then climbed up and kissed me, sharing my cum with me. I wanted to please him as well, so I rolled him over on his back and did my best to follow his example. His cock was similar in size and shape to mine, and I savored my first taste of another man’s sexual organ. I, too, looked into his eyes as I took him into my mouth and started sucking. It took a little getting used to, but I gathered that I was doing okay by his soft moans and body language. It took several minutes, but to my utter delight I was rewarded with a mouthful of hot male nectar, which I shared with him as he had done with me. I liked the taste of it. I liked it all very, very much. After we recovered, we cuddled on the bed for a long time, sharing our experiences and longings. Both of us were getting aroused once again. At that point, I told him that I wanted him to make slow but passionate love to me, and that I wanted to receive from a male lover all that one could experience. He smiled and rolled over to the bedside table to retrieve something (personal lubricant). He had me lie on my back with a pillow under my hips and my legs spread. He climbed between my legs and began to gently suck me. As he was doing this, I felt his lubricated finger against my puckered anal orifice. The teasing was very exciting, but nothing like the feeling of his finger parting my anal sphincter and slipping inside.

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