Gonzalo Narvreón - Stories of a married man

“I’m so sorry, man; I thought I could help relieve your horny,” I said.

“No, man, thanks, but I’ll pass,” replied Martín.

He went to get his clothes, got dressed, and started down the stairs. I followed him to open the door, we said goodbye coldly, I apologized again, and he left without saying anything else.

It was the first time in my life that I was faced with such a situation... Would Martín divulge what happened to the people at the gym, or would he keep it between us? Obviously, I would not return to the gym, and I couldn’t imagine any excuse to make up for my wife. I was disturbed, and a cataract of thoughts began to invade my head.

I certainly had no idea how I would look him in the eye again, and I suspected that he would never come back to my house. The uncomfortable situation I had just experienced had taken away all kinds of heat. I went to the kitchen to eat something on the way and watched TV in the living room until I fell sound asleep.

I was awakened by the sound of an incoming call on my cell phone. It was 06:00 p.m., and to my surprise, the screen indicated that it was Martín. I didn’t dare answer, and the phone stopped ringing. Two minutes later, it rang again. As hard that it was, I should face the situation at one time or another, so I better do it quickly, so I decided to answer it.

“Hello,” I said dryly.

“Hello, I’m calling to apologize for the somewhat violent reaction I had today,” said Martín.

“No, I’m the one that must apologize; I really did not think about it, and somehow your reaction was logical,” I said.

“Look, the truth is that I went wrong and stayed wrong the rest of the afternoon. You were very kind to invite me to the pool, to lend me clothes, to let me take a shower; maybe I did or said something that led you to think in a wrong way,” said Martín, and continued:

“If we are going to be honest, you really made me get a bone when you started talking about the things you do with your wife, and obviously you noticed it; maybe that made you think I was looking for something else.”

“The first comment imagining what I was doing in front of the mirror with my wife was made by you; you started talking about sex; anyway, everything is fine, Martín, let’s leave it at that; it was just a misunderstanding. What I do ask is that what happened to remain between us,” I said.

“From now on, forget it... Do you want me to come to your house and we talk personally?” he asked.

It was difficult to leave me speechless, but Martín had just achieved it; I did not know well what to answer. Bringing Martín into my house had always been with a concrete intention. He was proposing to me to return to talk about what had happened after the anger he had left... I really did not know how to take it or what it would end up with.

“You surprise me, I thought you wouldn’t want to see me even away, but if you come, I have no problem; you know that I’m alone and free; we can talk freely,” I said.

“OK, I’ll be there in fifteen,” he said, breaking off the call.

Actually, I got nervous... I went to the fridge to check if there was any cold beer. I went to the bathroom, put on a T-shirt so I wouldn’t be alone in my boxers, returned to the living room, played some quiet music, and waited for his arrival.

I heard the sound of a car parking at the door, and I sent him a message telling him that I would open the gate so he could enter the parking lot. Martín came in with his car, and I went to the front door to greet him.

We looked at each other, smiled, and both made a gesture of shame. Martín had changed his clothes; he had a bermudas, a light blue sweater, and flip flops. I invited him in, we did sit down in the living room, and I offered him a beer, which he gladly accepted.

I went to the kitchen and came back with two little bottles, handed him one, and sat down next to him.

“Well, we already said some things to each other on the phone,” I said as if to break the ice.

“Yes, it’s real, and as I told you, you were very kind, and I apologize again for the way I reacted, but you must understand that nothing like this has ever happened to me before,” said Martín.

“I understand, it’s just that since you had a bone and I’m very open with sex... actually, I confess that I’m bisexual, and I thought I could helping you to release your needs,” I said.

“I’m speechless,” he said.

“Look... I take my bisexuality naturally. Sex is sex, sex is pleasure, sex is enjoyment; everyone does it in their own way and in the way that best suits them; as long as it is consensual between the parties, everything is fine, what is the problem?” I said.

Martín looked at me with his eyes wide open and without saying anything.

“Also, I have my limits, and there are things that do not suit me. I only fuck with guys who are machos; I don’t like sissy men, trannies, scatological sex, or risky things; men next door are the ones I want to have sex with,” I said.

“Have you ever shared at least a jerk off with a man?” I asked.

“Since you were honest like that, the truth is that I shared some girls with a friend, I participated in threesomes with him and with several girls, but I never touched his dick intentionally. In truth, and I’m ashamed to say it, I may have grabbed it to stick it in the pussy or in the asshole of girls, but that’s as far as I got,” said Martín.

“Did you experience double penetration?” I asked.

“Yes, I did it several times,” answered Martín.

“And didn’t the pressure of the two cocks inside their pussies and assholes warm you up? Or watching while your friend fucked her?” I asked.

“The truth is that I did, but I never thought I’d be able to have sex with my friend,” he answered.

I looked at his crotch and noticed that, as had happened at noon, his dick had started to get hard. It was evident that he was boiling and that the sexually charged conversation was once again beginning to ignite him.

“I ask you a question,” I said.

“Tell me,” Martín said, gesturing intriguingly.

“Think of it this way: what’s the difference between getting a blow job from a woman and getting a blow job from a guy?” I asked him.

Martín was silent for a moment, staring into my eye, and finally, he answered.

“If you put it that way, if I close my eyes while they’re doing it, there’s really no difference; they both have a mouth and a tongue, they both suck the same... well, I guess, I’ve never had a guy sucking my dick. Just in context, seeing a girl’s tits while she’s sucking your dick is not the same as having a guy in front of you seeing his balls and dick... I don’t know, I’ve never imagined a guy sucking my dick,” answered Martín.

“Look, they both have mouths, but I assure you that a guy’s blowjobs are better than women’s; what’s more, I’d dare to tell you that the active guys suck better than the passive ones. Men know how to give another man pleasure, even better than a woman do,” I said.

I deliberately looked at his crotch again, then looked into his eye and back into his crotch. I wanted him to realize that I had noticed his erection, and since I no longer had anything to hide from him, I didn’t mind being explicit with my eyes.

“I see you’re hard again,” I said.

Martín looked at me with a gesture of shame.

“I told you, I haven’t had sex for months, and you make this kind of lustful comments... What do you want me to do?” he said.

I stuck my eyes back into his bulge and ran my tongue over my lips to moisten them. I looked into his eye as if asking his permission to do what I had wanted to do at noon. In truth, it is what I had wanted to do since that day when I first saw him at the gym.