House-Sitting with a Homosexual Pt. 05

Which isn't to say Elena and I were unhappy. We got along well and helped each other as only great partners do despite the regular tiffs that occur between married couples. Elena really was my best friend; we understood each other in a way no one else ever had. Our only problems were a lack of excitement in our lives and a declining interest in sex with each other; otherwise our marriage was strong. Elena and I were comfortable enough in our relationship that a night spent cuddling on the couch and binging a TV show usually felt more satisfying than nights we had sex.

The fifth anniversary of Elena and I's wedding arrived quicker than I could have imagined back when I was a bachelor. The day before our anniversary, I couldn't help myself from recalling this eve marked exactly five years since I had last been with Daniel. Elena and I went all out on gifts for this occasion. I bought her an expensive new dress and sapphire earrings while she bought me a premium bottle of single-malt barrel-aged scotch and a new tablet I'd been wanting.

We reserved a dinner for two at one of the most romantic fine dining restaurants in town and ordered a bottle of one of the most expensive reds on their wine menu to complement our meal. Elena covertly shared at the dinner table that she had purchased lingerie just for this occasion and couldn't wait to show off her new knickers to me when we got home. I felt a sense of anticipation building once I received confirmation that we'd almost certainly have sex before the evening's end. I knew I should pace myself to keep my mind and body limber but the Cabernet was of such exquisite quality that I couldn't stop myself from pouring out glass after glass. Elena controlled her alcohol intake far better than I, sipping slowly at her wine and savoring it so that she only required one slight refill.

We spoke about politics, about movies and music, about the historical events that transpired during the last five years of our marriage. Elena and I told each other how happy we were and how wonderful married life was. We both agreed that our sex life had grown stagnant over the last year and could use a spark to rekindle that old excitement we felt back when we were stupid, horny teenagers struggling to take each other's clothes off for the first time.

"Maybe we can work on that tonight," Elena offered as she blew me a kiss and gave a suggestive wink that made my throat tighten.

I glanced down at my near-empty wine glass and prayed I could still perform after drinking so much. Only a few years from my thirties and I had already noticed my prick took longer to get hard than it used to and also required constant stimulation to retain its firmness.

While we were on the subject of sex, our conversation took a turn to more playful and flirty. I asked Elena what was her greatest sexual fantasy that could never be fulfilled now that she was married. I doubt I would have had the audacity to ask such a question without downing half a bottle of wine first.

"Oh, I don't know," Elena said with a wilting smile and a blush that turned her large, adorable cheeks red. "I guess... well, you know you're the only man I've ever slept with?"

This was true. Elena lost her virginity to me and kept herself monogamous throughout our relationship. I felt some embarrassment at the knowledge that I couldn't say the same on either count but didn't let it show. I lost my virginity to my high school girlfriend a few months before I left for college and met Elena. She was the only other girl I ever slept with. But I had sex with Daniel on numerous occasions too and there was also that unnamed bartender from Indianapolis.

"I guess I've sometimes wondered..." Elena forged ahead reluctantly. "Oh, this is embarrassing to admit. I've sometimes wondered what it would be like to sleep with two guys."

"You want to fuck two guys at the same time?" I blurted out in disbelief.

I quickly realized my volume might be too high and my repartee too indecent for the illustrious crowd of such an overpriced restaurant. I glanced back and forth to make sure no demure ladies sitting nearby had fainted in shock but thankfully no one gave the impression they overheard me. I never thought Elena would ever consider such a depraved act as having two cocks inside her at the same time.

"Oh, God no!" Elena rushed to exclaim. "Double penetration sounds awful to me. I meant having two guys there for me, both totally focused on taking care of my needs and making me feel great. Maybe taking their turns with me, one of them watching the other fuck me while they masturbated knowing they would get to have their turn with me next. Oh God..."

The familiar look of lust showed in Elena's penetrating gaze as her arousal became manifest. Her eyes normally appeared dark, mysterious, and beautiful but when they smoldered with desire too... watch out! Curious what else might be revealed in the course of this conversation I pressed her further.

"Do you ever imagine me as one of the guys in this fantasy?" I prodded Elena.

"Yes," Elena admitted quietly as her blush deepened to encompass all her usually pale visage. "I've fantasized about that before."

I gulped at the implications of her answer and asked further, "Do you ever imagine me and this other guy... doing stuff to each other?"

The fiery look in Elena's eyes grew stronger and I already knew what her response would be.

"Maybe..." she answered coyly rather than outright admitting it. "Why? Is that something you'd actually be into?"

To this day, I can't say why I answered her question so honestly. Maybe the nearly ten years of our relationship together had been building up to this very moment. Maybe I was weary of hiding my true self, of making myself lesser to appease Elena and conform to society's expectations of my masculinity. Maybe I was just tired of all the secrets. The lies.

"I'd be more into it than you think," I told Elena as I nervously fingered the stem of my wine glass. "Elena, I'm bisexual. I'm sexually attracted to men."

A stunned, confused expression slowly formed on Elena's face like she couldn't believe what she just heard.

"Okay..." Elena replied carefully. She remained silent for thirty seconds or more before asking, "How long have you had these feelings?"

"Maybe they were always there and I just didn't realize it," I told Elena with a cracked voice as my tongue worked to restore saliva to a mouth that had suddenly gone dry. "I didn't notice that I held these attractions until about nine years ago.

I watched Elena perform the mental math in her head and realize that was nearly the entire length of time we'd been together. She had to be wondering what first precipitated my doubts of my own sexuality.

"So have you ever... acted upon these inclinations?" Elena asked with an expression that already showed heartbreak.

Here it was. My hands shook, my stomach churned with nausea and my face turned as pale as a sheet. But I had to tell her. It wasn't fair to Elena or to myself to hide this any longer. It was time to finally come clean.

"Do you remember that week the summer after our freshman year when you went on vacation to California with your family?" I asked her.

Elena nodded warily.

"You remember I house-sat for you at your old place? There was one night I called Daniel and asked him to come over and hang out. When we were alone together things got weird and we kind of got caught up in the moment. We ended up... experimenting together."

"What did you and Daniel do together?" Elena asked. Her gaze had shifted fully away from lustful and hardened into a penetrating, accusatory expression.

"Everything," I told her ashamedly as I buried my face in my hands. "We did everything."

"How many times?" Elena asked pointedly.

"A few times, just over that week," I lied. "I'm sorry."

I had dropped enough bombshells in the last few minutes; I wasn't about to tell Elena that I came inside Daniel's asshole on the eve of our wedding just before the wedding rehearsal.

"So you cheated on me," Elena squeaked as she laid her face in her palm and sobbed. "God, I wasn't enough for you, was I? I never was!"

"Elena, it's not like that," I told her as I laid my hand over hers. Elena flinched and snatched her hand away from my touch.

"I love you, Elena Dexter," I said pleadingly. "I've always loved you. But you have to understand I was curious and afraid of these new strange feelings I felt for Daniel and he was there to help me work through him. I won't lie, I care for Daniel. A lot. Elena, if you and I weren't together I'd probably be in love with him. I'd never had a single homosexual thought or questioned my sexuality once until the day I met him. He does something to me I don't quite understand and the only other person I've felt like that with has been you."

"I can't believe I'm hearing this," Elena wept. "Our whole marriage, the lives we built, it's all a complete and utter sham."

"Don't say that!" I insisted, suddenly feeling defensive. "You're still the most important thing in the world to me. I want to be with you, Elena. Not Daniel or anyone else."

"Save it Eric, I don't want to hear your crap," Elena growled. "You've hurt me. You have no idea how badly."

At that inopportune moment our main entreés arrived. The server noticed Elena crying and clearly her tears weren't from joy. Dispensing with the usual greetings and idle chit-chit, the waiter quietly laid out our platters of food and removed himself from the awkward situation immediately. My wife and I sat in silence for a few moments as I waited for Elena to say something. Anything. But she just sat there quietly staring at the tablecloth until finally I grabbed my silverware with a shrug and began digging into my steak before the meat grew cold.

Elena picked at her expensive dish of roast duckling and salmon with kale salad but barely ate a bite. When the server returned we didn't order any coffee or dessert even though Elena had obsessed all this week with giddy, childlike excitement at trying the famous chocolate cake that was the restaurant's namesake. We paid our bill and Elena wouldn't even allow me to put her coat on or hold the door open for her. Chivalry was dead and I seemed to have murdered it.

We drove home in total silence, the tension almost killing me as it grew worse by the minute but at this point I knew saying anything could only make things worse. I had already resigned myself to knowing Elena's new lingerie and the prospect of any sexy times with her were out of the picture. I only hoped we wouldn't go to bed with Elena still furious with me.

I couldn't help feeling some resentment toward Elena. She had taken my coming out as bisexual as poorly as I could have anticipated. For being such an outspoken ally to LGBT persons, Elena seemed awfully judgy now that someone close to her was experiencing a sexuality crisis. I understood that cheating was unforgivable but she refused to consider the situation from my perspective or think about how difficult life must have been for me these last several years.

When we arrived at home I climbed up the stairs with Elena and tried following her into our bedroom. But right before I entered Elena turned around and slammed the door shut in my face. I heard the click of the lock as Elena turned the bolt on the door handle inward and shut me out.

"Elena, come on!" I yelled through the door as I jiggled the bolted handle futilely and slammed a fist against the door. "Don't be like this! We need to talk!"

"No way!" Elena cried. "I'm not talking to you and there's no fucking way you're sharing a bed with me tonight!"

"I'm not leaving this door until you come out," I threatened. "I'll stand here all night if I have to."

"Fuck off!" Elena screamed. "If you really want to stay here you can sleep on the couch tonight but I'm not letting you inside my bedroom."

Our bedroom, I thought glumly. Fuck me, is this bad.

I stood outside the door for several minutes fuming with my arms crossed petulantly. I eventually realized with a sinking feeling that Elena hadn't been bluffing and really wouldn't be coming out. A few moments later I heard the wheeze of her light snoring from the other side of the door. She fell asleep and had no intention of letting me in.

I stumbled down to the living room on our ground floor in a daze. I went through the motions of human activity in a zombie-like state as I stripped down to my boxers and carefully folded my shirt and slacks before laying them on a nearby chair. I found a blanket tucked away on the upper shelf of the coat closet that I wrapped myself with while I slumbered on the couch. I went to sleep that night wondering if my marriage was over, if the best woman I had ever known despised me. I'm not too proud to admit that I cried myself to sleep that night thinking that I'd blown it and the wonderful life I had known was over.

Elena

When I first met Eric, I thought all my dreams had come true. Here was a guy who was smart, funny, athletic, ambitious, driven, gorgeously handsome, and most importantly kindhearted and not full of himself like so many of the weak excuses for men that I've known. I scarcely believed such a wonderful guy could be into me too.

I'd always been labeled the "weird girl" by most of my peers not only due to my fashion choices and bold makeup applications but also because of my fierce intelligence and outspoken nature. With my dark curly hair and lipstick combined with my pale face, I felt like a woman out of time. I sometimes felt I should be starring in a silent film from the '20s instead of living in this millenium.

Other girls my age seemed intimidated by me or I suppose they were just jealous that I was close with so many boys at our school. While I had a core group of girlfriends most of my friendships were with boys instead. Girls always seemed to resent me for my relationships with guys they wanted to be with. They shouldn't have worried, I had little romantic interest in most of the guys I knew and none of those boys mattered to me as much as Daniel who held zero attraction for women.

Daniel and I were in the same preschool class and by elementary school were inseparable partners in crime who played almost exclusively with each other. Too ignorant to realize the blatantly obvious signs of his sexual orientation, he would be the first boy I ever fell for. At the age of twelve we were each other's first kiss, awkwardly enough. I was the middle school equivalent of being in love but too blind to understand Daniel's preference for men until I became the first person he ever came out to. How could I not want to be with him though? Daniel is handsome, funny, kind, and would do anything for those he cares about. I suppose I can understand his appeal to Eric.

Eric's admission totally blindsided me. I never once considered whether or not he was totally heterosexual. Eric never gave me a single indication that he felt attracted to men. I figured that I was good enough for him; that I could make him happy for the rest of our lives. What a fool I was.

Sure, our lives had become routine and unexciting these last couple years but I'd hoped that a night of hot anniversary sex along with some dirty talk at dinner might get those old sparks smoldering again. Boy, did that backfire. Sadly, I was wrong in my assumption that I was enough to keep Eric happy. I don't know yet whether to feel rage or despair at my situation.

It's still so strange to imagine Eric engaged in sexual activity with Daniel. I try to picture the two of them kissing but can't conjure the image in my mind. It sounded like they definitely did other stuff too. Would Eric actually enjoy sucking Daniel's cock? He must have considering how proudly he announced his bisexuality. I recalled gossipping with Daniel after our freshman year and learning that he lost his virginity over the summer break. But he would never admit who he did it with or provide me any of pertinent details that I begged him for. Now of course I was painfully aware of the identity of Daniel's mystery sexual partner. Holy fuck, I just realized that asshole took both our virginities!

I'll admit I became furious and overreacted after hearing Eric's confession. After all, he did cheat on me and I felt rightfully livid about it. But I also had to bear in mind this affair happened nine years ago and my relationship with Eric had only grown and strengthened since then. Yes, our love life had become staid and predictable. I hoped an evening spent making each come over and over the night of our anniversary could begin fixing that deficiency. But learning of Eric's infidelities spoiled any chance of that happening. And don't think I was acting biphobic; I would have been equally pissed if it were a woman he slept with rather than a man.

After I shut Eric out and locked the door behind me I collapsed down onto our bed, not even bothering to take off my dress or high heels first. I watched the shadows outlining Eric's feet beneath the doorway and once I realized he wasn't going away I faked snoring noises to fool him into thinking I'd fallen asleep.

Once Eric finally left, I spent a good long while weeping into my pillow. Pain always feels more bearable once you get a good cry in. I spend a few moments every night writing in my journal, a practice I've followed habitually since I was eight years-old. That night I transcribed all my pain and confusion, describing in detail the utter shock and devastation I felt. The words poured out of me into the lined pages of my notebook.

After writing and gathering my thoughts for long enough, my perspective shifted. What was Daniel's role in all this? Did he feel the same way for Eric that Eric apparently felt about him? Was their affair just a throwaway fuck or did it mean something more?

Oh God. What if they're in love with each other and I've been the one holding back my two best friends from being together? Could I live with myself knowing I'd ruined their happiness?

I knew my path forward now, the only path I could possibly follow. I needed to speak with Daniel.

Eric

I spent the next week in a barely functional daze. Elena hardly spoke to me and I continued spending each night sleeping on the couch. Alone. Elena didn't come home at all yesterday; I have no idea where she spent the night. I seriously considered calling Daniel to talk about this but if Elena found out I spoke with him that might set her off again. Instead, I struggled through my miserable existence for the rest of the week. I ate dinner alone, drank too much whiskey and blacked out on the couch in front of the television most evenings.

I even started fucking up on my reports at work where I never made those sort of errors. My supervisor noticed my shoddy performance and despondent nature. He called me into his office at the end of my shift to ask what was going on. His face expressed surprise when I confessed that Elena and I were having marital troubles. By all outward appearances our relationship looked rock-solid. My boss told me to just go home for the rest of the week and be back ready to work next Monday. I reluctantly agreed. It had now been five days since Elena and I had our fight.

I went home that night feeling sorrier for myself than ever. I almost wished Elena would just announce already that she was separating from me or filing for divorce just to get it over with. This constant uncertainty felt torturous, especially when my wife refused to say more than three words to me in a day. I didn't just rest on my laurels crying 'woe is me' either. I sent Elena flowers at work with love letters attached to them, tried initiating conversations at home and by phone, sent her cute text messages, and apologized in every way I could speak of. I received no response to any of these overtures. No grand romantic gesture on my part would save our relationship from certain doom. I had hardly thought of Daniel or the confusion over my own sexuality these last few days, my mind focused on nothing except ways to win back Elena's love and receive her forgiveness.