Everything Happens for a Reason Ch. 02

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This is a sequel to, “Everything happens for a reason-Ch.1.”


The sun was shining right in my eyes when I awoke. Ooh, my head…I had WAY too much wine last night. “This was getting to be a habit,'” I thought again for the hundredth time. I focused on the source of the light, and it was the partially closed hotel blackout curtains. Damn those things. No matter which hotel I stay at I can never get them all the way shut! As I gradually got used to the light I started to remember the night before.

My routine seldom varied. First, check in to the hotel and unpack. Second, go to the store and buy some wine. Third, hit the hotel happy hour. Fourth, go get some dinner and have some more wine. Finally, back to the hotel room, open up yet more wine and hook up the laptop and chat with hot guys on-line. Sometimes, I would surf for a hot adult movie and hope that I find one that promises lots of hard cocks with cumshots, because many of them don’t. I always preferred porn that focused on oral sex. Then I would pass out for the night.

As I lie there reflecting, I wondered how I had gotten into this rut. I had a modicum of success in my career. I had a stable (if not passionate) sex life with my wife, and no kids left in the house to complicate things. Beth was still attractive and had her own success, and our son was doing well in college. So why did I always feel like something was missing? Why did I keep chasing on-line what I could not have in real life? Given the choice, I would always choose Beth.

I closed my eyes and enjoyed the sensations of my fingers as I wrapped them around my reliable morning erection. My erections usually did not last long in the mornings but they were always rock-hard. I propped my head up on two pillows and watched my hands at work. One glance at the clock is all it took to cause my erection to subside. I headed for the bathroom to prepare for the day. “At least I can still get it up,” I conjectured.

I turned on the bathroom light and gazed at myself in the mirror. The man with the hangover looking back at me was not half bad, I decided. 6′ tall, 180 lbs, with thick dark brown hair graying at the temples. My skin was not too wrinkled, despite my efforts at staying slightly tanned. I needed a shave, but I still looked younger than my age. I looked into my eyes. My wife used to call them “Bedroom eyes,” and I thought she meant that I looked sleepy. I later came to understood that expression very well when I saw it in a man I loved, so very long ago. “Where is he now?” I asked myself out loud. If only there was an answer. Maybe if there were, I would not drink so much.

Showering, I thought about the coming day and the meetings I would be attending and the presentations and debate that would follow. “Oh man, fuck that,” I thought, as I sat down in the hotel tub and sat under the spray. It is always so relaxing to sit under the shower instead of standing. It is like being a kid in the rain. I leaned back against the back of the tub with my legs bent and I relaxed. I maneuvered my body so that the spray was coming down on my cock. I stroked it with my right hand and lifted my left leg onto the edge of the tub. My left hand’s soaped-up middle finger worked its way inside of me. It was a challenge, but sometimes I could find my prostate and press against it just right.

That sensation was highly sexual, but in an entirely different way than when my cock was stimulated. As my fingers stayed busy, my mind wandered back to the time when I finally understood the expression, “Bedroom eyes.” God, the memories of Taylor and me in the spa that night haunted me more than any ghost ever could. As I looked up at the spray coming down on me it was like being hypnotized. I allowed myself to return back to that fateful day in the spa when I discovered what it was like to be with a man, a very special man.

The memory was sweet. With tears rolling down my cheek, my aching cock released its pent-up load as I remembered our explosive encounter, way back when. I closed my eyes tight against the thought of what could have been. After a couple of minutes, the sound of the spray brought me back to reality. “What a fool I am for obsessing about Taylor,” I said out-loud to no one but myself. We had exchanged a few e-mails over the years. The last one was like a skewer through my heart. It was several years back, and his words are imprinted in my mind, forever. It was clearly the last one that we would share:

“Trent, it has been so long and so much has happened. Please know that I want everything good in this world to happen to you and that I will never ever forget you. I mean that buddy, but my life is on an even keel. My oldest is in college and the triplets are doing commercial work. Things may not be perfect with Laura, but we are finding our way as best we can. We’re planning a romantic cruise this fall to re-kindle the spark. Wish me luck and promise me that you will always take care of yourself Trent. Good-bye, Taylor”

I must have kept that e-mail for a month. Bayrampaşa Escort I kept reading it over and over and in a moment of strength and with a sense of honor I finally made that promise to him. I responded back, “I promise, Taylor.” Now several years later, here I am lying in a hotel bathtub obsessing about it yet again. If only Taylor knew how often I think of him. He found a way to move on and I have not. It wasn’t healthy and I knew it. It was time to live up to the promise I had resolved to make to him to take care of myself. I had a client that was expecting to be “wowed” today, so I stood up and rinsed off the remnants of my release. It was time to get on with my day, and my life.

The meetings were over and my client was happy, so I headed back to the hotel. I prepared for the same evening routine, but I felt like a lemming headed for the cliff. I turned on the PC and headed for the chats logging in as, “Imissit.” Twenty minutes later I am chatting with a guy in a hotel in New York City. Just when I think we hit a groove he says he wants me to, “Fuck him up the ass” and then, “Lick it clean.” I shook my head, blocked him and looked for others to chat with.

The next one wanted me to, “Suck his big black cock in front of his wife.” He gets blocked also. I go into a bi-curious married chat room next and as usual, nobody is chatting. “Why do I waste my time with these guys?” I ask myself. The next pop-up was a husband wearing his wife’s panties and looking for the same. Good god. I got up to pop some popcorn, turned on the TV and sat down for awhile, only occasionally glancing at the lap-top. After about fifteen minutes I noticed that someone had sent me an instant message. I ignored it.

Half hour later, I wander over to my laptop. There were two or three “Hellos”, and I deleted them. The last one was from, “Itsbeen2long.” The message said, “So, you are searching for the right guy also, and he has to be married?” Here we go again, I think. I typed, “Yes, aren’t we all.” The server response was, “Itsbeen2long is no longer logged on.” Aha, that was the one that I had ignored, earlier. I had to smile at how typical it was for us guys to reach out, only to be ignored. I had done the same thing. After all, what are the chances of meeting someone like me on-line? Zero? What I was doing seemed so futile as I was not looking for casual sex, and I only wanted to chat with married guys. The bi-sexual married chat rooms seemed to consist of 95% gay men.

I started to log off, but I noticed that I had a new e-mail from “Itsbeen2long.” I opened it up. It said, “Hey Imissit, I like your profile. You sound like a decent guy and there aren’t too many of us on-line. E-mail me if you wanna chat. I could use another married guy’s perspective.” I replied that it would great to chat, but only if he were “real.” I knew I would not hear back from him. The word, “real” always scared them off.

A day later I was back home. Laura has a thriving consulting business that she runs from our home. She has a handful of clients that are out of state, so she never knows when she will be called out of town. This was one of those times. She left me a note saying, “Trent, I will be in St. Louis for an extra couple of days. Please water the plants on the patio.” I loved Laura a lot, but I have to admit that I craved time alone, so I wasn’t too bummed that she was away. Our marriage was good, but not great, and we both knew it. I made a note to try harder.

I went out to get the mail and dumped it on the table. The usual junk mail and magazines. What’s this? I picked up a magazine that was wrapped in brown paper. I noticed the address label…it belonged to the same address as mine but on the next street.

It was obviously porn and someone was expecting it, but what do I do, ring their doorbell and say, “Here, this is yours?” Smiling, I tore into the package. Sweet Jesus, it was a gay mag. I had to chuckle to myself as I realized how humiliated my neighbor would be if they knew I had intercepted this. Page after page had naked guys doing any number of things with each other. I wasn’t into the leather thing, but I sure got hot seeing all the naked guys worshiping each other’s hard cocks. One pic was in a gym with naked guys lifting weights. That turned me on.

I made a sandwich, watched the news and headed for an early bedtime, stolen magazine in tow. Let’s see, which of these guys do I suck off and then dream about tonight? I got the tissues ready and quickly got as hard as the guys in the magazine. I remember laying the magazine down on my chest to rest for “just a minute.”

I was tossing and turning in my sleep. Three guys were standing over me, jerking over me as I am on my back on a weight bench. One guy is spotting me as I lift weights, and I look up his shorts and see his cock and balls. He says, “Pull my shorts down,” so I do. His cock then pops out and starts cumming like a geyser all over my hair, face and neck.

Awake now, I am slicked with sweat from head to Bayrampaşa Escort toe, and breathing hard. My erection was a “ceiling scraper.” That magazine had me so worked up, but I had fallen asleep before I could jack off. I needed to find some on-line porn, right now. This would be quick, I knew. I would not be particular about what I jacked off to, not this time. I got up and logged onto the PC. It was only 1:00am.

So there I sat with my erection demanding attention, surfing the porn sites, looking for a quick release. I found one of my favorites, the gallery with the guys who were naked, hard and kissing. I clicked on the one with the guys in the spa and I went to work on my throbbing cock. It didn’t take long. Within thirty seconds I was cumming.

After cleaning up, I sat at the PC feeling very lonely. As useless as it has always been, I still felt compelled to enter the bi-married chat room. Thirty wasted minutes go by, then an hour. A few pop-up chats that go nowhere. Same bullshit, different day. I was ready to log off when “Itsbeen2long” joined the room.

He sent me a message saying, “Wow, you’re on-line! Thanks for the e-mail; I was wondering if you got my message. I was really glad to see your response. Hey, did I tell you that I liked your profile?”

I typed back, “Yeah, sorry guy, I was doing other things and you were gone when I got back. I was tired and needed to get back to bed.”

“So can you chat now? We seem to have a lot in common.” I then went to look at his profile which stated, “Middle-aged bi-married male, 6′, 175, brn, brn, go-t. Still look pretty good and in good shape according to my wife-LOL—:) Not much experience, and very curious to chat with someone like me.”

Ok, I will bite. I typed, “Hey “Its,” I like your profile also…what did you like about mine?”

He replied back, “You just seem different than the other guys…more “real,” as you said in your e-mail to me.” I had to chuckle at these guys and their attempts at on-line flirting. However, two hours later we were locked in a deep discussion on being married and secretly bi and hating it. Both of us had only one experience with another guy and it had left us “marked for life.” We both admitted to being hooked on gay porn, ever since then. We loved our wives, but we secretly craved cock, and oral sex. It seemed to be a sensitive subject for him to discuss, but he said that he grieved many years for the guy he had been with.

“Did he die?” I asked.

“No. It’s a long story, but I had to break up with him. Hardest thing I ever had to do. It was for the best.”

We finally shared our names. His name was Brian, but I lied about mine. Instead of telling him I was Trent I said my name was Jim. I felt guilty, but I had learned from other obsessive guys on-line to stay away from using my real name. I had been doing this for years. I swear this guy was addicting. So addicting, that I preferred him to my wine. I was drinking less, and I used that as justification for our time together.

The weeks passed. Night after night I would sneak away from bed and log on to chat with him. He was in a different time zone, but he was more or less sneaking time for me as well. We soon had a code for an approaching spouse and it was to type, “F” (for fuck!) We got a good laugh out of that. Sometimes that “F” would be there forever and we would log off while the other one lived his “real life.” Somehow we both understood.

We had our “ground rules,” which meant that we would never push the other for anything more than chatting on-line. No pictures, no phone calls, no employer info…just innocent chat as friends. We both had wives and careers and we did not want to rock the boat, so we would NEVER meet. He made me swear to the ground rules as a condition of our chatting. I was in agreement with him, and so it was.

Brian was different than the others and after a short time I abandoned all attempts at chatting with anyone else. We stayed out of the public chat rooms and created our own private room. I was drawn to him like a moth to flame. Infatuation had a strong grip on me, and my chats with him became the highlight of my every day. Brian and I graduated to hot cyber sex at every opportunity (which with wives around was not often) and we both shared that we dreamed about the other.

It soon got to the point where people would be trying to talk to me at work, and I would be caught up in the previous night’s dialogue with Brian. I would remember us talking about being in a “69” position and tonguing each other to orgasm. It was affecting my concentration. He said that he had the same problem.

One week-end, both of our wives were out of town. Hot damn! We arranged to be on-line at 7:00pm, and we both promised to be naked. It was as if we were immersed in a bubbling cauldron of sex. Whatever we typed to each other seemed to cause the sexual flames to burn hotter. Brian got me off twice and I got him off three times. We were both in need of a cold shower Escort Bayrampaşa yet we couldn’t stop. It was beyond hot.

We finally and begrudgingly said our goodnights at 2:30am. Wow, a seven and a half hour chat, with five orgasms between us! That was a record. We were typing “I love you man,” getting the response, “Me too.” I typed, “Imagine that I am sleeping in your arms tonight, Brian.”

Brian responded back, “If we did that Jim, we would never get any sleep!” We were like a couple of high school kids who could not hang up the phone. After a quick shower, I went to bed. I was exhausted, but my mind was as stimulated as my cock had been.

Try as I might, I just could not sleep. I thought of the deadline that I had missed the week before, because I was chatting with Brian instead of working. After two hours of tossing and turning, I realized that I was letting this cyber thing consume me. I had actually told Brian that I loved him and wanted to be in his arms! I suddenly felt embarrassed and juvenile. I was letting important work projects slide, and I was virtually ignoring my wife. I was slacking, both personally and professionally, and I was a better person than that. I decided that I had better tell Brian that we have to back-pedal a bit. I was hoping that he would understand. After all, he was having trouble at work, also.

I got back up out of bed at 4:40am with the intent of e-mailing a serious note to Brian. To my surprise he was on-line again! God, here I was trying to send an e-mail to him that we need to cool it down, and he is on-line when I am trying to send it! I decided to beat him to the punch so I sent him an instant message, “What are you doing up?”

He immediately responded back, “Jim! I am SO glad that you are back…I can’t explain it, but I somehow knew you would be. I can’t get you out of my mind, guy. I could not sleep and I have been doing a lot of thinking. I was just going to send you a note asking you if it would freak you out if we met with NO EXPECTATIONS. I know that goes against what I said before, but we have such chemistry together, man. I can’t take not knowing what you look like and what you sound like. I want to know what it’s like to look into your eyes.”

Ok, that did it. Brian had found my hot button and he had pushed it. I was immediately hard again. What was this power that he had over me? “What about our ground rules?” I typed.

After a long delay, he responded, “Fuck the ground rules, Jim! I’ll say it again, fuck the ground rules! I’m going crazy here. You know I had someone special once and I was stupid to not find a way to keep him in my life. I let him go. I don’t want that to happen again. Call me crazy, call me a hypocrite because of my goddamn stupid ground rules but I gotta do this. I’m saying I wanna meet and talk, nothing more! Please don’t say no, Jim. I know that you are several states away, but if we really want to meet, we can make it happen. Jim, say anything, say that you will think about it, just don’t say no. Please!”

I could tell that Brian was riled up and of course I was too at that point. We had whipped each other into a sexual frenzy several hours before. This sexual tension that we had built up was starting to undermine the safety nets that we had in place. I hated to waffle on what I needed to say to him, but I agreed to think about it. After a moment, I began to type again.

“Brian, you are all that I think about. I don’t know how healthy that is, but I can’t help myself. It has been a very long time since I felt like this. I feel like I am addicted to you! I am putting my real life on hold for our chats, and I need to be careful here. We both do. Let’s take some time to think this all the way through. I know that we planned to chat again tomorrow night, but let’s both swear that we will take the night off and cool down. Will you do that for me Brian?” I pressed the send button.

After a long delay, he replied back, “Jim, I will do that for you but I hate to waste a precious night with our wives away.” I saw his screen name go blank as he logged off. His pleas had been so passionate, and my response had been so practical and composed. He had a right to be pissed.

Sighing, I headed back to bed, still aroused from his passionate pleas. Lying in bed, I felt guilty that Brian didn’t even know my real name. We had shared the most personal things with each other and discussed meeting, yet I was lying to him. Perhaps it is best to keep that last bastion of privacy. That was the last thing I thought about before sleep engulfed me.

I not only stayed away from Brian the next night, but also for four weeks after that. Staying away from his frequent e-mails was like an alcoholic walking back and forth past the bottle. I also chose this time to literally walk past my wine bottle. It was hard, but I knew I had to stop drinking, that it was not helping anything. I had decided that we both needed time to cool down. Brian obviously disagreed. However, too much was at stake and I was frankly scared of my own passion toward the man. I even fantasized about being single again and having the freedom to pursue a relationship with him. The last time I felt this way was with Taylor so many years ago and that made me a basket case when it didn’t happen. I could not go through that again.

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