My head started to pound. Why was I seeing gay everywhere? It was like that Baader-Meinhof Phenomenon. Once you learn of something, you see it all over the place. Not even finishing my drink or my meal, I quietly shelled out some money, more than enough to cover my dinner and drinks, and left.
I hit the road with the top still down, driving south down the coast. My mind kept turning over and over this whole ‘gay’ notion. Gay was wrong. Right? My whole life I’d been opposed to gays and their lifestyle. I voted in favor of Prop 8 every time it hit a ballot. Gay was a choice. A perverted choice. Not natural. But really, what was wrong with them? Those guys on the deck seemed normal. They weren’t running around making people gay. The way they looked at each other and enjoyed the other’s company didn’t seem like a choice. Their interactions seemed natural. And Tanner was cool. He was a professional jock. It didn’t seem like he’d had an agenda to corrupt me. He acted natural. When he realized I wasn’t gay, he seemed shocked and sincerely apologetic for kissing me. He didn’t push it and try and go further or convince me that I wanted it or something. Somehow, I had sent out wrong vibes. My parents had always drilled into my sisters and I their strict religious beliefs that gay was a sinful choice. That choosing gay was an abomination to God, and indeed evil. But none of the gay men I’d seen were ‘abominable.’ Suddenly I couldn’t come up with one solid idea of why “gay was wrong.”
An hour or so later, I arrived in downtown San Francisco. Paging Dr. Freud. I drove the streets just looking around and found myself on Lombard Street. Enjoying the handling of the eight hairpin curves of the road in my sporty little convertible, I smiled to myself as I realized how manly my thought was. Cars. Sports car handling. See. Not gay, but was I choosing ‘not gay.’
Having been to the Financial District of this town more than any other, I headed to familiar territory and parked my car in a garage. I headed to the row of bars on Belden Place, where there were several bars with sidewalk seating. I stopped at B44, and headed in. I briefly wondered if I would be a target for a gay guy looking for a hookup, but I took that risk. I sat with a beer and just people watched. For every straight couple, I spotted a gay couple. Some were obvious, some you needed to really look at. I always knew that San Francisco was a gay friendly town, but never really paid much attention. Now I was realizing that just because guys looked “straight” it didn’t mean they were. Nor that gay couples were being lewd all over the place. They were polite, respectful, friendly… normal. Driven by what felt natural. Not a choice or trying to be flamboyant or obnoxious. Every notion I had of gay was being shattered.
Never once did a guy come by my table to try and pick me up. I thought one had looked me over, but my aloof posture probably kept him at bay. On the one hand, I was a little insulted. On the other hand, relieved. I wouldn’t have said yes. I found myself wondering: If Tanner happened by, what would I do or say?
Images of Tanner popped to mind and my lips, with a mind of their own, recalled the feel of Tanner’s lips. And as if the two were connected, my cock started to wake up. I wanted to see him again. I pulled out my phone, opened his email and replied thanking him for sending the draft back to the offices, and that I’d bring the finished portfolio for him when I came to town. I added that I was staying through the weekend and, if he wasn’t busy, I could review the package with him. As for the game, that I’d need only one ticket, as I was making the trip solo. Hastily, I hit send and wondered where my suddenly impulsive nature was coming from. I had always been the calculated one. Always planned out. I never just dashed off emails in my life, business or otherwise. Elizabeth had always been the spontaneous one in our relationship.
Feeling completely off balance, I paid my tab and headed home, blaring classic rock on the impressive sound system in my Bimmer. Sitting on the streets in San Francisco, one of the most gay friendly towns in the world, people watching and thinking about Tanner, wasn’t helping at all. It was accelerating a change in me that was in a word, unsettling.
As I drove home, I turned my thoughts over repeatedly.
What in the hell?! I was going on forty-six. I have never been attracted to men. I’ve dated women all my life. Why was I suddenly attracted to a man? Or at least thinking about one? I was married… to a woman… had kids with her. I loved her. Then it hit me. Her last words to me…I don’t want to feel like an afterthought…you don’t want to be married to me…We are dead, Greg. You like the idea of being married to me. But you don’t want to be married to me. Maybe there is someone who will light you up. Someone you will want to be with.
Tanner did light me up. I enjoyed spending time with him. We had several common interests. He was a good friend. That was it, right? A friend. I had common interests with Jim, Aaron, and Marc. But my other friends never made my body react. Never made my pulse race, my breathing ragged, or gave me a boner. That said, not every woman did either. Elizabeth did, sometimes. However, the hard-ons I got from thinking of her were never the magnitude that Tanner elicited.
Maybe I was just curious? That was possible, right? Mid-life crisis and all. I mean I did buy an overpriced sports car. Classic mid-life move. Toss in Elizabeth’s divorcing me. My whole life had capsized.
That’s it! My whole life had been upended. It’s possible that all of this is just some sort of brain chemistry confusion. That’s it. I’m not gay. Or even curious. I’m just in a tumultuous time of my life.
When I got home, I booted up my computer, not for porn, but for research. I had a burning question that needed to be put to rest. In the search bar, I typed, ‘How do you know if you’re gay.’
Wow. Plenty of suggested sites. Wikihow boasted a three part self-evaluation to determine if you’re gay. A site called All the Tests had a quiz. Another site called Your Sexual Orientation had a guide for exploring this question.
Two hours later, and a major cramp in my neck from reading website after website after website, I was more confused than ever. On the other hand, maybe I was just fooling myself? Maybe I wasn’t confused. Maybe I was just fighting myself. But that’s preposterous. Maybe I was only thinking that way because I had just spent hours and hours thinking about gay men, and wondering if I was gay. Gay curious?
Overwhelmingly, the information I had been culling suggested many things. That just because you have a same-sex fantasy doesn’t mean you’re gay, unless it’s the only way to get excited. Women have always done the trick. Not to the degree I was experiencing lately, but… Moreover, having one encounter didn’t make you gay; just like if you were to have one cigarette didn’t make you a smoker. History was what counted. My history was all women.
One of the articles suggested an ‘experiment’ of sorts, without doing the “deed.” It suggested masturbating to ‘straight sex’ for several minutes, then masturbating to ‘same-sex sex’ for the same amount of time and seeing which aroused you more.
Determined to find some clarity, I pulled up the free-porn site I had been on the other night. I pulled up a straight sex set of videos, scrolled down the page looking for one that looked interesting, and shoved my pants down, then hit play. I enjoyed three or four videos, each less than five minutes. All in all, I spent twenty minutes ‘at it.’ My dick was hard. It felt good. Feeling stronger, I typed in “MALE GAY” in the search bar and then enter.
Instantly there were thousands of thumbnails. Taking a few breaths and building up… courage (?)…I pressed play on the first one in the queue. I braced myself for the repulsion I expected I would feel. The men in the video were standing face-to-face and kissing, clothed. My dick twitched in my hand, and my chest swelled. My heartbeat pounded in my ears. But that’s because it was taboo. They pulled apart, and I got a look at the two guys. One was clean cut and blonde and didn’t look gay at all. And the other guy, well, he didn’t look gay either. In fact, he looked a little like Tanner… similar dark hair and stubble that graced his jaw. He also had blue eyes. And he was tall. The “Tanner” looking guy pulled his shirt off, and I looked o
ver his body, which was clean, but my mind recalled the tattoos that Tanner had on his chest, lower abs, and the one across his side. My cock was now painfully hard, my hand was slick with pre-cum, and it was only twenty seconds into this video, and no sex. This didn’t seem to be going how I had thought it would go.
The image dissolved into the two men, now both completely naked, on a bed. The “Blond Man” was on his back looking up at the man that looked like Tanner, who was on his knees between “Blond Man’s” legs. With a gleam in his eye, “Tanner” lowered himself to take Blond Man into his mouth. As he did, Blond Man groaned, and looked like he was in heaven. “Tanner” worked Blond Guy expertly, and looked like he was enjoying it every bit as much as Blond Guy.
The memory of Tanner’s lips on mine came rushing forward and I breathed hard and ragged wondering what his lips would feel like on my dick. I started watching the video intently wondering when “Tanner” was going to turn “Blondie” over and fuck him in the ass. My hand was now pumping my dick hard, and my other hand was rolling my balls and squeezing from time to time to hold off blowing my wad. I wasn’t sure if I was going to last much longer.
“Tanner” pulled off “Blondie” and grabbed a black bottle of lube and squirted it all over his fingers, which he then lowered to the crack of “Blondie’s” ass, who was still on his back. My own ass clenched slightly and my hand that had been working on my balls, slipped lower and rubbed firmly on the skin between my asshole and cock. Pre-cum now oozing all over the head of my dick, I collected some of it on the hand that wasn’t stroking firmly up and down my shaft, and dropped it back to my perineum and inched toward my ass. On screen, “Tanner” slipped a finger into “Blondie,” who moaned deliciously at the intrusion. “Tanner” started to work his finger in and out, then slipped in a second, and “Blondie” bucked with delight and ground into “Tanner’s” hand.
Unable to keep my curiosity at bay, I slipped my finger just a little into my own puckered hole. Oh—Fuck!!! That feels good. I pulled the finger out, shocked at how incredible that felt. I’d never for an instant entertained that hole being an entrance. ‘Exit only’ was my view. Now? I slipped it back in again, gently and felt my muscles clench, almost excitedly, around the intrusion. My hips started to buck as I worked that hole and my finger in up to the first knuckle—in and out, mirroring what I was seeing on the monitor. I started to imagine that I was “Blondie” and that it was actually Tanner who was doing these things to me. “Blondie” was stroking his own erection with one hand, and fisting “Tanner’s” hair with the other. My balls started to pull up into me, and the familiar tingling at the base of my spine signaling my orgasm shot up my back and I was curling my toes into the carpet.
On the screen, “Tanner” stopped with the fingers and pulled them out of “Blondie’s” ass. I held my breath and gripped my dick. This is it. This is when he flips “Blondie” over and fucks him in the ass, I thought. I couldn’t believe how eager I was for this moment. But I was wrong. “Tanner” didn’t flip “Blondie” over, rather he simply pushed up and was face-to-face with “Blondie” now and was kissing him deeply. The camera was now positioned at “Blondie’s” ass, and “Tanner’s” cock was miraculously sheathed with a condom and positioned at “Blondie’s” hole.
Slowly, “Tanner” eased in, just the head of his cock into “Blondie’s” ass, who groaned deeply and winced. My finger mimicked the move and I was wondering what something bigger than my finger would feel like. “Tanner” pulled back, and so did I. In again, and out again. I was no longer stroking, just gripping the base of my dick tightly, holding off an explosive orgasm that was waiting ‘right there’ to be released. My finger, however, continued to work feverishly using the pre-cum that was flowing from the head of my cock. I was vibrating with anticipation…waiting for “Tanner” to finally give “Blondie” his entire dick.
A few more barely ins and outs, and then “Tanner” finally pushed in, slowly, and firmly. “Blondie” let out a deep moan, somewhere between ‘ouch, you’re huge,’ and ‘fuck! that feels good!’ Tanner was looking hungrily at “Blondie”. I was feeling … jealous? “Tanner’s” body started to rock back and forth. He was grunting and clenching his jaw, and I could only imagine it was because he was suppressing the need to pound into “Blondie’s” ass. It’s what I would be doing. Before I could fully consider that thought that had just gone through my mind, “Blondie” stroked himself to release, ropes of cum releasing onto his cut abs and chest as he shouted out. My fist started to pump wildly on my cock again, and my full finger was plunging into my ass. There was a spot inside my ass that made me feel amazing and I started to lose it. On the screen “Tanner” started to pound quickly, and then he pulled out, ripped off his condom, and then stroked himself to orgasm, spurting all over “Blondie”, the look on his face probably matching my own as I came all over my chest, legs, and desk.
The video faded to a close and I was left breathing hard, and still holding my hard dick in my hand and squeezing more cum from the head. I don’t think I had ever come that hard, ever, in my whole life. Fuuuuucckkkk!! Seriously??
I started to clean up with the Kleenex on the desk, and realized my junk had shot so hard some had landed on the keyboard. Shit. How do you clean that? Instead of even trying, I tossed the keyboard into the trash and decided I would go out and buy a new one.
I didn’t have to watch another video to deduce that I was, at the very least, “curious.” Why was this happening in my forties? Wasn’t I have supposed to have gone through this shit when I was in my teens or, at the latest, my twenties? Mid-life crisis, I reasoned again.
Now what?
CHAPTER 8
Saturday morning I woke up with my hand gripping my rock-hard erection, a vivid erotic dream featuring none other than Tanner Williams, still unfinished and playing in my mind. I seldom recalled dreams, but this dream remained with me and I couldn’t shake it. Needing release, I finished jerking off imagining that I was fucking Tanner in the ass. I found myself incredibly curious to know how it would feel to have my dick in a man’s ass. But not any man’s… Tanner’s. How would it compare to a woman’s pussy? Imagining that it would feel tighter, I gripped my dick more firmly. I closed my eyes and thought about Tanner’s tattoos, his body, his lips, and in no time, I exploded all over myself. Feeling like crying, I dragged myself out of bed, stripped off the dirty sheets, and dragged myself into the shower.
I spent the rest of the day laying low. I didn’t go anywhere, or do anything. I avoided the computer, which without a keyboard was fairly easy, and focused my attentions on watching sports and action movies all day. I ate junk food and drank beer. I belched and didn’t shave. I was being a caveman. A man. I refused to acknowledge anything that had happened yesterday afternoon and evening into early this morning.
Flipping through channels just after five that night, I stopped when I came across a soccer game on a Fox Sports station. I rationalized in a small corner of my brain that it was a sport, and that was achieving my goal of being manly and not… well, trying to somehow connect to Tanner.
The announcer on the TV continued whatever he was saying before I had tuned in, saying, “…the Smoke out for redemption here at home in Chicago after their punishing loss last week against the Lauderdale Lions as evidenced by this first goal after only three and half minutes into this game.” Hearing that it was the Chicago Smoke playing, I dropped the remote and chewed on my lip as I looked at each player on the field that the camera focused on. I quickly spotted Tanner on the field playing, and sweating, his longish brown hair sticking to his forehead as he focused on the activity on the field. Number 31. Unable to look away, I sat riveted, learning about a sport I had never followed. Tanner was a forward and in this game, that meant running. A lot of running. That would explain Tanner’s incredible body. Did I just think that? Yeah, I did.
I spotted my iPhone and was struck with curiosity to know more about Tanner. I opened the web app and typed in “Tanne
r Williams.” Then to ensure that I didn’t end up with some politician, or author, or something, I added “soccer,” hit search, then held my breath.
The screen lit up with a number of searches ranging from social media sites, to the Chicago Smoke Soccer Club site, and even a Wikipedia page. Off to the right was a ‘snapshot’ from his Wiki page:
Tanner Williams
Soccer player
Tanner James Williams is an Australian born soccer player who has played for the Chicago Smoke Soccer Club for fourteen years, and will be one of three coaches for the new Sonoma County Conquistadors starting next season. Full Wikipedia
I clicked on the “Full Wikipedia” link and was rewarded with Tanner’s full bio.
Born: March 18, 1975 (age 38), Melbourne, Australia
Nationalities: American and Australian
Current team: Chicago Smoke (#31, Forward) since 1999
Salary: 1.4 million USD (2012)
Parents: Lenora Wellington Williams, David Joseph Williams
Siblings: Samantha Williams Schafer
Tanner James Williams is an Australian born soccer player who has played for the Chicago Smoke Soccer Club for fourteen years. Next season, Williams will be one of three coaches for the new Sonoma County Conquistadors.
Nothing new there. As I continued to read, I learned that he had been awarded the FIFA World Player of the Year in 2003 and 2006; that he was among the top paid soccer players in the industry, and that his respect not just in the sport, but in volunteer efforts was highly lauded. His volunteering was not just among youth sports organizations, but also in supporting the LGBT community.
Unexpected Dreams: Dream Series, Book 4 Page 6
