Do I Want to Play a Game?

L came by the house several weeks ago so I could setup a new email account on her phone and disable her old one. I didn’t ask (because I just don’t anymore) but I figured this was to keep the boyfriend from contacting her. Over the past two years she’s changed mobile numbers twice and has blocked him at least three for four times, but always winds up in contact with him again. Changing her email won’t keep him from talking to her, or her to him, but I didn’t bother saying anything; I just did what she asked.

In the process of setting up the new account, she forgot what password she used. Since it was a Gmail account, I logged out of mine then did the “forgot password” function on the login page, which started the process for her to enter a new password. She didn’t want me seeing it so I handed her my computer to let her type it in herself. Somehow, my Gmail accounts came up, and she saw the name of the one I use on this blog, curiousinroanoke AT gmail DOT com.

She didn’t see anything other than the account name, but that was enough for her to start accusing me of having some “whole secret life.” Well, yea I guess I do, but I’m not going to admit it to her! At first she assumed it was all about trying to hook up with women, which is also partially true (LF and I had been talking already by then), and when I tried changing the subject she said “fine, but this isn’t over.” She was saying it with a laugh, but it was a rueful laugh that left no doubt that she wasn’t pleased.

Later, after she’d left, she texted saying “curious is the word they use when talking about same-sex stuff.” I acted shocked that she would even think such a thing (Ha!) and told her it’s just a name I made up to stay more anonymous. She wanted to know what I needed to be anonymous for, and I said if I wanted to tell her that, I wouldn’t need to stay anonymous. She responded “Ha ha”, and that was it.

(I made the address last year when I was trying to use Craig's List to hook up with guys, and now I use it for everything I want to keep as hidden as possible.)

It was right after this that I started noticing that she was being flirtier, which I wrote about earlier this week. We’ve been alone a few times since then, and I’ve been expecting her to bring the email account up again but she hasn’t. In one way I’m glad, but in another way I kind of want a confrontation about it. Really, I guess I just want her to be jealous of what I might be doing (though I don’t want her to suspect any of the bisexual activities.) And it’s frustrating that she hasn’t brought it up!

I’ve been tempted to “accidentally” send her a text; something that wouldn’t be too sexually blatant but would be obviously meant for someone else, and be just suggestive enough to indicate something naughty (or at least sneaky) is going on. And yes, I KNOW exactly how childish that sounds, which is one reason why I haven’t done it. Another reason I haven’t is because L is so unpredictable; it may start up the conversation I want, with me getting to play coy and watching her get jealous. Or she may fly right the fuck off the handle and go nuclear. I admit a small part of me wonders about just how that would play out and thinks it could be interesting to see, but the repercussions could be huge and I’m reluctant to take that chance.

There are other reasons I haven’t yet done it: For one, it feels creepy to think about trying to be that manipulative of her, and the potential pain it could cause her. Also, what if I do send something and L just doesn’t care. I’d apologize, saying that the message wasn’t meant for her or to ignore it or whatever, and she says “oh, okay” and that’s it. I think that would be worse than “nuclear” reaction.

But despite all of that, I’m still sorely tempted to do it. I’ve almost sent some carefully formed text two or three times a day all week, and I already have in mind what I would send today if I were to send it. I have the same feeling I usually do after two drinks on a work night when I’m thinking about getting a third: I want my wife to tell me not to, even though I know I’ll resent her for it. And though I’m hoping she’ll say “go for it”, I would consider it irresponsible of her to encourage me in that way. I want to say maturity will prevail, but I’m not at all certain of that right now. On the bright side, if I do send something, it will make for one hell of a post later, right?

For the record, it’s harder to write about L now. I feel like everything I talk about is being drowned out by some air raid horn blaring out “SHE’S MY SISTER! SHE’S MY SISTER! SHE’S MY SISTER!” I think that will pass over time, or at least I hope so. As I said, this blog will be useless to me (and boring for you, the readers) if I’m not able to write honestly about everything, including L.

All in the Family

Yesterday, June 24, was a special anniversary for me. Not my wedding anniversary (though that is special too, of course) but one of a different sort.

Three years ago yesterday I received an email that would change my life. It was from a woman, and she gave me a brief history of her growing up in the same area I did, and graduating from the same school I did, but five years later than me. She’d been adopted as a baby and over the years she followed up on different leads and finally thought she knew where her family on her father’s side was. “That’s right,” she ended the email, “I think you’re my brother.”

To say I was shocked is an understatement. The wife was sitting beside me doing something baseball related, but even she noticed something was wrong. I told her about the email, but I couldn’t sit still. My initial reaction was to think it was some kind of joke, or a scam, and it couldn’t possibly be true. But I remembered how irresponsible my father was, and how bad a husband and father he was, and something deep down started to think this might be real. I paced and muttered for 20 minutes before finally answering her email.

I responded to the email the way I typically do when I don’t know what else to do: with a joke. “I’ll say this,” I opened, “you certainly have the [family name] flair for dropping bombshells!” The long and short of my reply was that I could tell she was sincere in her belief, and in her desire to find her missing family, and I would do everything I could to help her. I told her that even if it turns out we aren’t related, at least that would possibly give her some other clues. Okay, I was babbling at that point, but come on, I was still in shock!

Over the next few days she and I talked, and the more she told me about what she knew of her “real” father (which she learned years ago from her “real” mother), the more I was convinced that we were related. We finally decided to have a DNA test done to see if it’s the case, and by this time we both admitted that we’d be sad if it turned out we weren’t related. My father had been dead since 1982, so it would have to be just us, with no confirmation from him.

I have two older sisters who I considered calling immediately, but decided to wait until the DNA test came back before saying anything. There didn’t seem any point in introducing a lot of drama before we knew for certain. I didn’t want to say anything to my mother at all, no matter what, because the timing of her birth would have been when she and my father were still married. She had no illusions as to what kind of man he was, but she didn’t need proof thrust in her face.

July 9th, Friday, is the second anniversary related to this event, because that evening is when we got the DNA test back: 93% chance that we are half-siblings. My concern was that there would be some ambiguity in the results, especially after spending over $500 for the test. But in the world of DNA, 93% is as close to dead certainty as you can expect (in terms of determining being related.) I actually passed out a few “It’s a girl!” cigars to some close friends. What can I say; I’m a goofball.

The next day I told both of my sisters in a conference call. They didn’t take it well. The oldest sister was excited about it at first, but then changed her mind. The middle sister was cool to the idea from the beginning and, as far as I know, has not changed her mind at all. I’m very sad, and disappointed, by their reaction. The oldest sister gave up a baby girl for adoption when she was 17, and still has regrets about it. The middle sister’s husband was adopted and has often said he wishes he could find out about his biological family, whatever there is of it. It’s astounding to me that the two of them, under the circumstances, can’t find it in their hearts to at least meet their half-sister before deciding to keep her out of their lives. If for nothing else, they should consider the possibility of her being a source of a kidney should they ever need one, for fuck’s sake.

And damned if the both of them didn’t almost immediately tell our mother about it! When she told me she knew, she said they each did it independently, and both of them sounded like they were doing it as much to get me in trouble as anything else. It's really driven a wedge between us

Imagine being 45 years old, and finding out you have a sister who is 40 that you had no clue whatsoever about! My sister (I no longer consider her a half-sister, and only use that phrase when I’m being precise) and her husband became really close with the wife and I. We went to dinner together a few times, got drunk together, and had a lot of fun. Some things have changed over the past three years, but we’re still close and I love her dearly.

I’ve started this post a number of times over the past month or so, only to discard it. I’ve been concerned about what it will mean to some of you, and how you’ll react. This blog is for me, of course, and for my own healing, but I’ve grown close to many of you who have interacted with me either on the blog or via email. I’d hate to think that I might lose some of you as internet friends, or lose your respect. But ultimately, I have to continue to write about the things I have to work through or this blog is just meaningless rambling, and I’m wasting my time. That’s why I’m posting this, and telling you:

My sister is L.

Weekend Update

Good morning and happy Monday! Time to get the week started and push on until Friday. Is it bad that by Sunday night I'm already looking forward to Friday?

I don't have a lot new to report with LF. With no games for the wife to go to until this Friday, LF and I haven't been able to play on Skype. We text and email during the day while at work, and a little over this weekend, but that's not the same. And now her work schedule is changing so it's going to become even more difficult for us to get together. Not impossible, though. I've got some ideas, if we can work them out.

My girl dog has had some problems recently with her lady parts. Specifically, she's apparently gotten a UTI and the poor thing spends the majority of her time outside going from spot to spot trying to pee. We got her to the vet Saturday and now I have to force two Amoxicillin capsules down her throat a day. In two weeks we have to get another pee sample from her to the vet so they can see if it's cleared up. Meanwhile, we also have to keep an eye on her for a bad reaction to the meds. Fun times!

L and I have gotten a little more flirty lately, which has me wondering what's going through her mind. This is a pattern we've gone through before, though it's been a long time, and it's telling that in some cases she's the one who starts it. She mentioned last week that she'd caught me looking at her boobs when we were in the pool, and I told her about the slippage (which she claims she didn't know about.) I admitted that even though we aren't like that anymore, she's still always going to turn me on, and she admitted it makes her feel good to know that. She also said she still thinks I'm sexy, though at my current weight I don't see how that could be.

One part of my brain is telling me that I'd be a fool to start getting my hopes up about something happening again. L is probably feeling down and needing an ego boost, which I don't mind giving her, but she's almost certainly not wanting anything to start up again. Another part of my brain is saying even if she wants something to start up again, I need to run from that as fast as I can. There are too many factors against us for it to turn out well. 

But if she said the word, I know I'd jump right back into that with her again.

I'm supposed to meet T for dinner Tuesday night (he contacted me this time), but I don't think any shenanigans will ensue. We'll catch up, though, and I'll tell him about Brent and I getting together. It should be an interesting evening, that's for sure!

I ain't Stella, but I'm Getting My Groove Back

I started my current job a year ago this month, but as a contract employee through a temp hiring service. I really enjoy the job, I like the people I work with, and I respect the company I work for. It also helps that it pays more than any other job I’ve had before, which is kind of sad when you consider it still barely cracks $40K/year. I can’t complain, though; it’s twice what I was making at my old job, and far far more than I made owning my own business.

The one downside is that I start at 8 a.m., and it’s a 30 minute drive, so I have to leave the house around 7 so I can get here and get my work area settled, relax, etc. It’s fine, though; I’m a morning person and I’m usually up by 4:30 or 5:00 most days anyway (I sleep in until 6:00 on the weekends when I can), so it’s not like I have to rush to get out. It’s just been an adjustment.

Previously, when I had my own company (I was a co-owner, actually), I wouldn’t have to be at the office until 10 or so. If I had clients needing immediate attention I could get there whenever they needed me, but for the most part I would wake up at my normal 4:30 or 5:00, exercise (if I had the motivation), have coffee with the wife, then wave good bye as she left with at least two hours before I had to start getting ready for work! Guys know what I’m getting at here, right? Well, women who read my blog probably know what I’m getting at here too for that matter. Alone time!

“Alone time” is my euphemism for masturbation, and WOW! did I do a lot of that! Every day I was on my favorite sites reading sex stories, watching videos, and slowly stroking myself. I could take my time and “edge” over and over, letting the pleasure build up then back off. Usually I’d just sit on my couch with a towel (that’s where I keep my laptop), but sometimes I’d kick it up a notch and spread out on our bed. That way I could be a little more adventurous with positions and toys (yes, I like toys as long as they’re small and thin enough). The orgasms weren’t always mind-blowing, but they were always satisfying.

And despite the daily jack-off sessions, I would still be aroused enough to want sex more often than not. The wife isn’t always likewise ready, so I’ve learned over the years not to put myself in a position to be too disappointed when nothing happens. And heck, there’s always the next morning to enjoy myself, so no biggie, right?

Even after giving up on having my own company (going months at a time without receiving even a weekly paycheck tends to sap your enthusiasm) and starting the phone support job, I didn’t have to be in at work until 9:30 or 10:00, depending on how they changed the schedule. That meant I didn’t have quite as much time, but it was still enough to enjoy myself thoroughly. The freedom to be completely naked while I played was heavenly.

But then I started this job. Again, I like it, and it pays well, but I’m out of the house every morning before the wife is. That means I don’t get much time to play, and even my ability to exercise in the morning is hampered because it throws off my timing. Last summer I could make up for it when the wife had games to go to that evening, but it’s not the same. As I said, I’m a morning person and that includes being at my most horny in the morning. That’s not to say I can’t enjoy myself at nights, alone or with… someone. But it’s just not the same for some reason that I’m not sure I can adequately explain.

And once baseball season was over, even that window of opportunity went away. I rapidly went from pleasuring myself almost every day (morning) to the occasional wank when I had the time and motivation.

And I was slowly losing the motivation, to be honest. Not only was I not getting to jack off, a lot of times I just didn’t feel like it even if I did have time. Part of this was the depression I started going through at the same time (mostly because of L and the ups and downs of our fucked up relationship) but that wasn’t all of it. It was just a general lack of interest in getting off, either with the wife or alone.

At the same time this was going on, I was still half-heartedly trying to get something going with A, the girl I worked with before. I wasn’t making any progress, but the hope was still there. Also, it was near the end of that summer that I started really feeling the urge to get with another man so strongly. If I did get motivated to masturbate, it was usually to fantasies involving A, T, or some other man-on-man situation. And even then I noticed that my erections weren’t really as strong as before, and though I would enjoy the orgasms they just weren’t as satisfying as they had been.

So fast forward to this past April, and that’s where I was. Except the rare times alone at home became even rarer because the niece is staying with us, so even if the wife is at a game I still don’t often have time. But I’d honestly just gotten to the point where it didn’t matter. I worried about my lack of desire to get off in some way more than the fact that I wasn’t getting off. I thought maybe it was age, or being out of shape. I even considered that I might have low testosterone, as I seemed to have a lot of the same symptoms, which includes depression and decreased sex drive. (As it happens, my testosterone level is fine, according the lab tests done this summer.) I didn’t know if the depression was keeping me from wanting sex, or if the lack of desire for sex was making me depressed. It was probably a little of both, one feeding the other in a vicious circle.

But by April I’d been blogging for a month, and exorcising some of my demons, which has helped. (Don’t worry, there are still some demons left; I’m not going anywhere for a while.) I also discovered Dizcrete, though sadly now defunct, and there I talked to a number of men who were going through the same closeted bisexual urges that I was. Of course you know that’s also where I met Brent.

I started noticing, from chatting and looking at pictures there, that I was slowly starting to get back some of those old feelings. Not like before, mind you, but I was aroused more often. I was finding time in the morning once in a while to rub one out before the girls woke up, or ducking into the men’s room at work to sneak one in. I still had times where it was the last thing on my mind, but more and more it was becoming something to look forward to again. And I was starting to get interested in sex with the wife again, though there’s still the issue of synching up the timing.

The more Brent and I talked, and planned to meet, the more I was getting back to my old self. My biggest worry was that my libido would pick the day we actually did meet to go back in hiding, but it turned out that wasn’t the case. I was nervous, and it took some bit of effort to get me going, but once I did everything was fine. In fact, after I came I might have been able to go again (with some effort), but we ran out of time and had to wrap it up.

In a comment on the post where I told of Brent’s and my adventure, JFB asked if this was now something I’d gotten out of my system and was ready to move on, or did it make me want it again even more. After some weeks of reflection, here is my current answer:

I enjoyed the encounter (thanks again, Brent!), and I think there is no doubt I needed to experience it. I didn’t, and don’t, have any negative feelings about it like regret or guilt, and I’m definitely open to the possibility of doing it again at some point in the future. The desperation for the experience that I felt last year isn’t there, and that’s probably a good thing. But I could see, under the right circumstances, doing it again, and I think my anxiety level would be less the next time around. I’m not actively searching for anything at the moment, but I’m keeping my eyes (and mind) open to opportunities that might come along.

My somewhat ambivalent feelings about future experiences should be in no way considered a reflection on Brent, and I hope it doesn’t come off that way. My desire for sex with guys has always been this way; sometimes very strong and other times barely there. If it weren’t for the logistics, I’d definitely be willing to meet up with him for another encounter, and that’s something that may happen down the road anyway.

In the past few weeks, LF and I have been talking more and more, and now it’s like every day I’m in need of finding time to take care of business. My concern used to be whether or not I could even get an erection; now it’s how to hide the obvious bulge in my pants from my coworkers.

I mean, look at this thing!

I don’t know if there’s any one thing that’s been the cause of the turn-around; likely it’s a combination of a lot of factors. But I believe the excitement of a new, naughty relationship with LF has a lot to do with it. It’s hard to stay in a dark mood when I'm anticipating meeting someone for the first time, kissing her, getting sweaty together… yea, I think I’m going to have to go to the men’s room againtoday.

 I’m also more responsive on those occasions when the wife wants some action, which is nice. On the other hand, that also means more often than not I’m horny and she’s not, but that’s at least another sign of things getting back to normal.

And heck, there’s always the next morning to enjoy myself, so no biggie, right?

Miscellaneous Notes

In no particular order:

- I've made a few adjustments on the site recently, adding a blog roll on the side (if you're viewing the full site) and removing the challenge for posting. Blogger recommended not using the challenge since they have their spam filter in place, and it does make it easier (I hope) to just post your comment, without having to enter two obscured words or collection of letters. I know it's a particular pain on a smart phone, especially when I'm wearing my contacts and my close-up vision of small type isn't very good.

- LF and I spoke on the phone for the first time yesterday. We've been emailing, texting, and even Skyping, so a phone call shouldn't be any big deal. But somehow it was, at least a little. It seemed more... intimate, I guess. Anyway, for now we're just playing around and having fun, but hopefully there will be a chance for us to get together for, uh... a drink. Yea, a drink.

- L came by last night and hung out with the wife and I. I'd put our little blow-up pool up Sunday and filled it with water, and last night was just warm enough (80º) to sit in water slightly warmed by the sun all day. The top of L's one-piece suit was just a tad small for her, and her left boob kept trying to sneak out over the top. I don't know if she noticed how often her aureola peaked out, but I sure did! The wife didn't see it or she would have said something to L. I'm mostly done with mooning over the loss of the sexual relationship with L, but dammit, I'm gonna look at boobs!

- I have 13 followers now, and over the past 3 1/2 months I've posted 75 articles, including this one. I'm still averaging around 40 to 50 views a day, with big spikes on some of the posts. "Lost and Found" has been the most read, but I think that's because other people who've been searching for news on Dizcrete have landed there. Otherwise it was a pretty innocuous post. Next up in page views is the post "I don't see it..." which has a picture of my eyes. I'm not sure why that one has gotten such a good viewing. I've had a total of 6,822 page views all time, and a total of 293 comments thus far. All in all, I'm not setting the world on fire, but I'm happy with the progress. Thanks, everyone, for your continued reading and comments.

Weekend Update

Happy Monday, everyone!

Not a lot to report from this weekend, though it was a pretty good one overall. I got to play with LF a bit Friday night on Skype, but we had to cut it off when the niece came home earlier than I'd hoped. That left me really horny and hoping the wife would want some action when she got home from the game, but no dice. It was "too late" and she was tired. *sigh*

Saturday was a good day for riding, so the wife and I hopped on the motorcycle to run a lot of our errands. We had to use the car for grocery shopping of course (ever try to carry several bags and a case of sodas on a motorcycle?) but the rest of the running around was doable on the motorcycle. It's actually preferable; our ability to impulse-buy crap we don't need is hampered by the lack of trunk space.

I grilled a couple of ribeyes for an early dinner, but I'm still not getting that right. We both like our steaks medium-rare, but I keep jumping the gun on getting them off the grill, so they wind up rare. I don't mind it so much, but the wife really doesn't like it that undercooked. I try to keep them on longer but I get too impatient I guess. Plus, the meat had more gristle and was tougher than it really should have been, so overall I was a little disappointed in them. They had a good flavor though, and the leftovers, cut into little chunks, made for a decent omelet Sunday morning.

Despite having taken care of myself Saturday morning, and again Saturday night while the wife was at yet another game and the niece was gone for a short time, I woke up Sunday morning as horny as ever. Okay, it was partially my fault for spending much of the morning looking at some of the sites on JFB's Awesome Links, but by the time I woke the wife up I was in need. She must have been too, because she responded immediately to my touches and hints. We had to be a little careful, and quieter than usual, because the niece's room is right next to ours, but it was satisfying and fun for the both of us.

We got to do a little more riding Sunday, but the wife left for a double-header at 12:30 while I mowed and took care of a few other chores. I sat outside later and had a cigar (I need to cut back on that, I think), then grilled some bratwursts for dinner when the wife got home around 7:00.

There are no games this week, and not for the next ten days or so. I want to be glad that the wife will be home, but I'm really not. She'll be here, but won't really be "here" in a meaningful sense. She'll have all of her attention on whatever baseball games are on, either on TV or her computer, and I'll wind up reading or whatever. Beside each other but in our own worlds. I won't be able to "play" with LF during this time, of course, so that's another problem with it.

That's all for now. Have a good week, y'all.

FFF - Apartment #6 - 6/14

Word Limit - 369
Required Phrase - Bewildered
Forbidden Words - Knock, Lock(ed), Super
Extra Credit - Set the story during mid-day.
Bonus Words -
Tell us how she got the slipper (25 words)
Tell us about the neighborhood (25 words)

Jenny took a deep breath, gathering her courage. She knew she should have insisted on meeting Henry somewhere public for the first time. She really should have insisted on wearing clothes, but he had been… persuasive. Besides, when you meet someone on Ashley Madison, there’s no doubt you’re going to fuck. At least this way he’d know instantly that the carpet matched the rich, red drapes.

Her one act of defiance was at the last minute stopping at the nearby Wal-Mart and picking up a cheap pair of slippers. Jenny never did like going barefoot, and wasn’t about to start now. People had looked at her funny because of the trench coat on such a hot day, like they knew she was naked underneath it, but it was hard to be concerned about the opinion of people at Wal-Mart.

When she pulled up into the quaint, brown-stone neighborhood, she’d wanted to leave the coat in the car, but there were children playing. A month earlier and they would have still been in school, but now they were on summer vacation. She left the coat on until the elevator stopped on the third floor, then disrobed before heading down the hallway to apartment #6.

Suddenly her nerves started getting the best of her.  What if Ian, her husband, called the office? They’d tell him she’d left early, saying she wasn’t feeling well. That would lead to an awkward conversation. Jenny’s hands started getting damp, and she worried the pages she held would get stained. She had a feeling Henry wouldn’t like that.

There was no buzzer on the door, so she’d have to announce her presence the old fashioned way. She rapped on the door and waited, fidgeting and shifting her weight from one foot to the other. She heard movement form the other side of the door, and a thrill of excitement shot through her. She felt herself getting damp despite her nervousness.

The old man who answered the door looked nothing like the pictures Henry had sent. When his bewildered look was replaced by a wide grin, Jenny knew something was wrong. She desperately covered herself as much as she could while she stammered out “Isn’t this Apartment #6?”

The old man looked at the door number, sighed, and flipped it up. “One day I’ve got to get that damned thing fixed!” he said, looking Jenny up and down. “But I’m glad it wasn’t today!”

I don't remember the actual word count per MS Word, but I know it's under the 369 plus 50 bonus words. I did some last minute editing before posting as well, so I should be golden.

Go on over to Advizor54 to read some good submissions from the other fine folks who play FFF with us.