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 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, 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 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.

I groaned with unspeakable pleasure as he found my sensitive prostate. My body was fully yielded – legs wide apart, back arched, head back, eyes closed – communicating to him in unmistakable terms what I needed and wanted.

He probably realized that I would not last very long if he continued, so he rose up and applied lubricant to his bare cock. Crawling on his knees up between my legs, he placed his engorged knob at my puckered entrance.

Looking up at me for consent (as if he needed it), I whispered to him. "Yes, please take me now; take me deep...”

He pushed forward into my hungry love canal, eliciting from me a loud moan. He was very gentle and slow, and as my anal ring of muscles adjusted to his girth, he continued forward until his pubic hair was pressed against me.

He lowered himself onto me, and we resumed our kissing. As we did, his hips began to move, slowly at first, then with increasing speed. Soon, he was thrusting into me with animal passion, and my groanings were drowned out by his guttural grunts and the slapping of his ballsack against my ass. I never imagined that something could feel so good. The combination of his anal stimulation and his motions against my cock were bringing me close to orgasm.

Ohhh, Ken, I’m going to cummm…. Oh, yesss!”

My orgasm, together with the contractions of my spasms around his cock, brought him over the edge as well, and he gave a final thrust and emptied his hot male seed deep inside me.

He collapsed on me as we lay there, panting and holding each other. By now it was getting late, and I needed to go home to my son, who was there by himself. Reluctantly, we parted and dressed. With one final hug and kiss, I departed. I communicated with him in the following days, letting him know in no uncertain terms how much I loved being with him in that way.

The next time we saw each other was the following Sunday at church. We sat together, and during the sermon, our hands ended up discretely clasped together on the pew between us.

Later that evening, I went by his house again. This time, he met me at the door in a loose fitting robe, which was soon discarded as we embraced and engaged in prolonged kissing and stroking on the sofa. I then kneeled down between his legs and took him orally, demonstrating my love for him with my eager but still inexperienced mouth and tongue. It was enough, though, and he readily gave up his essence, flooding my mouth with hot manjuice. I received it as if it were a priceless gift.

I climbed up on the sofa on my knees, facing him and straddling his chest, whereupon he slid down and took my hard, drooling cock into his mouth. I groaned aloud as his oral ministrations gave me pleasures unlike anything I had previously experienced before meeting him. Had I allowed him to continue, I likewise would have soon emptied my pent-up load into his waiting mouth. However, I wanted even more. I wanted to make love to him, and I told him so.

As if he anticipated this, he quickly retrieved some lubricant from the side table and applied it liberally on my bare manflesh. He then guided it to his waiting orifice. I pushed forward, and slowly eased into him, watching this incredible sight as my slippery cock disappeared into him...

I was overcome by the amazing feel of the warm, wet cavity that completely enveloped my hard shaft. My eyes looked up and locked with his. Though no words were spoken (other than gasps and soft moans), much was being communicated, all of it nonverbally.

I started to move using long, slow, deliberate penetration. I wanted each thrust to express “I love you”. I was more focused on giving him pleasure than I was my own. But the beauty of two lovers is that each wants to please the other, and so both are caught up in intense and unspeakable pleasure as they move together towards an inevitable climax.

As passions grew, so did the speed. My hips were now slamming into him, my balls were slapping his furry ass, and our moans had become labored grunts. I signaled my pending orgasm with a loud groan, seconds before I exploded into him, flooding his bowels with my hot seed. I continued to pump in and out, and my cum formed a sticky white lather on my cock. With a little help from his hand, he soon reached his own climax, ejaculating rope-like strands of thick, white semen up onto his heaving chest. I leaned down and licked it up, then moved up and shared it with him in a wet kiss.

Eventually, my softening organ slipped out of his well attended ass, followed by an oozing dribble of white liquid. I climbed down and licked up the anal emission running down his crack, pausing to kiss and tongue his still-gaping opening. I then climbed up and straddled him once more, presenting my still semi-hard cock to him. He gently licked and sucked me, thoroughly cleaning off all remaining residue. This act of sensual cleanup became a regular conclusion to our lovemaking.

We met on several more occasions, all involving similar activities, up until the time he had to move some distance away to be closer to his daughter and grandchildren. I missed him very much in the weeks following.

Of course, I was forever changed by all this. My grieving slowly diminished as I enthusiastically pursued my newfound interests in men. My only regret was that I had not discovered this years earlier.