Confessions of a Hidden Gay Love

A secret affair defying power and fear!!

1

I had never had homosexual relationships until I met José. My beloved José. So androgynous. My gentle 22-year-old boy. I never thought I would enjoy sucking a penis so much. Perhaps I only like his penis. His penis and his entire body. His dreamlike face. His tight anus. José, my delicious José.

The details of how we met don’t matter. I don’t feel like thinking about that. Yesterday we went out for drinks at the luxurious Swiss Hotel. He ordered a mimosa and I had a whisky. He was wearing a white women’s blouse, black pants, and designer shoes. His semi-long chestnut-colored hair drives me crazy. A man who is not a man. His laughter is soft. We always talk about everything. I have never felt so free chatting with someone. Around his neck hung the gold necklace I gave him a year ago.

After having fun at the bar, we went up to one of the rooms, one of the most expensive ones. And we had sex.

Him on all fours and me, holding him by the hips, fucking him in the ass. The birth of a rose. The death of my hardships. How good his anus feels. It fits so perfectly around the shaft of my penis. He moves skillfully. I had never tried anal sex before. Sometimes he does it to me as well. The idea would have horrified me, but with someone as special as José, I love it. His angelic face, full of pleasure, while he fucks me.

When he penetrates me, he doesn’t put me on all fours; instead, I lie on my back and raise my legs. I love looking at him while he does it. Sometimes, as he penetrates me, he sucks my toes. I had always had something for feet. And his are so beautiful that I can spend half an hour sucking on them. They taste so good, and my José’s hygiene is perfect.

I could invent a narrative arc in which I have some problem with him, and the story would be more interesting. But in reality that’s not the case: with him everything is dreamlike. The problem is society. My position as a bank manager puts my private life under scrutiny. The board of directors is homophobic. I myself was homophobic before meeting José. Because of this, I have to keep our relationship clandestine.

Tomorrow José will move into my house. We will live together as a couple. To do so, I’ve had to invent that he is my nephew from abroad.

2

José, who is always so open and flexible, found the idea amusing. On the street he sometimes calls me “uncle” and laughs. One of the colleagues from the board met him. I invented a fictional sister who would be his mother. I am an only child. My inventions always amuse José.

But I don’t want to talk about others, only about him. For example, something wonderful is his anus. He has had anal bleaching done and, as I said before, his hygiene is perfect. Asses in general disgust me, but his is beautiful. Sometimes he lies on the bed, I spread his cheeks and contemplate his precious anus. It is pink and soft to the touch. And his buttocks have no hair at all.

I love caressing that beautiful ass and contemplating that anus, which is like a star. Sometimes I massage his whole body and end up wetting a finger with saliva and fingering his anus. He loves it when I put my finger in his ass. He lets out small moans that excite me greatly.

I should clarify that I am a man divorced from a woman, and that before that I had only been with women. Therefore, my homosexual bond is not only beautiful to me, but also novel. The discovery of my own anal pleasure has also been a very special event. I remember the first time: I was full of fear. José spread Vaseline on his cock and pushed it into me slowly. It only hurt at the beginning, a little. His penis is medium-sized. But when I felt the shaft sliding through my anal opening, I was in heaven. I could never have imagined that I was capable of feeling so much pleasure.

There is something beautiful in homosexual passion: to dominate and to surrender to being dominated. It is a psychological experience that is only possible in the homosexual bond.

José’s settling into my house has been fascinating. Although he has feminine energy, in the end he is a man. We understand each other perfectly. Everything is so comfortable. With women I always had conflicts; not to mention my ex-wife. If a certain misogyny can be felt in my words, I hope not to be judged. My problems with women have been intense. And my ex-wife was cruel, to the point of sadism toward me. She used to manipulate me to get money, tried to lower my self-esteem, and any complaint on my part was met with an intense dose of gaslighting.

In contrast, my life with José is a diamond. Just today, at midday, José was wearing a small swimsuit, one of those called a speedo, and he jumped into the pool I have in the backyard. That pool hadn’t been used in so long. His slender, graceful body moved with natural elegance. I loved seeing how his back was defined, the contour of his hairless legs and his perfect feet.

He swam four laps and then rested, leaning against the edge of the pool. I was sitting on one of the lounge chairs. He smiled at me and asked if I liked how he swam. “I love it,” I replied. His smile is beautiful. After that he got out, and I saw his wet body, that aesthetic body, and the speedo so tight that it outlined his package.

“Don’t move,” I said to him. “I want to look at you.”

I took out my penis and masturbated while looking at him. When I was about to come, he approached, knelt in front of me, and drank my ejaculation. After swallowing, he looked up at me and gave me his angelic smile. Something like that would never have happened with my hateful ex-wife.

3

Sometimes José likes me to tell him about my time in marriage. And what excites him most are the sexual details. Although my wife was odious, she was sexually voracious. But not in the pleasant way I have with my dear José. My ex-wife was what I like to call a sexual egoist. She only sought her own pleasure. My penis was nothing more than a dildo to her. She wanted pleasure, but knew nothing about giving it.

That’s why I feel no guilt at all, and I have told José that once, out of revenge and morbid curiosity, I slept with my wife’s sister. It was at my wife’s birthday party. She offered herself to me, perhaps because she also hated my wife, and in the middle of the party we went into the bathroom. Now something would be missing for me if there were only two holes. José offers me a hole and a phallus. A beautiful phallus.

At this moment José is sleeping. Before going to sleep I massaged his entire body. He lies naked on the bed and I run my hands over all his skin. Those buttocks. Those feet. Those shoulders. Those hips. That everything. How much pleasure I take in touching him, and how much pleasure he takes in being touched, invaded by my hands.

I know the years will pass and perhaps the androgyny of his appearance will fade. Then, perhaps, he will no longer be so beautiful to me and will have to leave my life. And I will grow old with the years, and he will prefer another, younger man. What matters is living in the here and now. Tomorrow will be a new day, in which I will continue enjoying our passion.

We will make love in the morning. I will go to the bank and look at the members of the board of directors. And I will know that although we are all equally wealthy there, I possess a superior pleasure; because pleasure does not require money, but sensitivity. Enjoyment is an art that does not come from money, but from the capacity to feel.