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Your Husband

Eshoreman

Jockstrap Fan
You don’t know me, but I suspect you know of me. I am the reason that D. runs so many errands on the weekend, though he usually comes home empty-handed. The thought of me is there in the back of your mind but you refuse to let that thought go any further. After all you and D. have been married now for nearly 26 years, and if you’re being truthful with yourself, you take his presence for granted.

He may love you, but he needs me. He needs – he wants – what I can give him. When he comes over to my house, he’s always hard by the time he reaches my front door. Hard as a fucking steel rod, horny and busting to come. I’m pretty sure you don’t get that reception from him, at least not anymore. When I see him, he’s always strapped in his favorite jock. The one he keeps in the trunk of his car because he doesn’t want you to touch it, to wash it and treat it like it’s just a pair of underwear. That jock is part of our bond, our ritual. He actually stops on the way over here to put it on for me, just as I’m always strapped and eager for him.

D. may look like the average soccer dad to you, but he becomes a rambunctious teenager as we head off to my bedroom. He’s always squeezing my biceps and running his hands over my six-pack. I am a good 6 inches shorter than him, but I’m built like a brick shithouse and that drives him crazy with lust. He’s shredded more of my t-shirts than I can count, pawing his way to get to my cock-filled pouch. And he is so ready to take me in his talented mouth that we often don’t make it to the bed before we get busy. Maybe you were wondering about that rug burn on his back a few weeks back. Yeah, that was me.

I’ve had a lot of men, but D. is one of the most gifted fucks I’ve ever known. He likes it hard and deep but really gets off when I pull out of his ass and come on his face and in his mouth. Sometimes I come on his jock while he’s still wearing it, and then his spunk really starts flowing. Only after he’s finished jerking does the jock come off, so he can lick it clean.

You probably have a lot of questions. No, we don’t talk about you – you’re not part of our world. And no, I’m not looking to replace you. Why would I? D. enjoys his life for the most part, and I have my own rich life outside of our sex romps. And yes, I’ve had other married men, but D. has brought some new things to the table and I am enjoying the time he and I share.

Maybe you’ll get lucky tonight, who knows. But know this: I was in him only 2 hours ago, and I know I’m still in him now.
 

Jocked_Jim

Jockstrap Fan
I'm in a non-traditional marriage, happily wedded to my wonderful penis. We make passionate, porn-fueled masturbatory love for many hours each day, always while wearing a well-seasoned athletic supporter, of course. My balls are our children, who work diligently 24/7 creating sperm for us to spew into our jockstraps.
 

ibz1492

Jockstrap Fan
hey jocked Jim.
I totally understand your marriage to your penis. I began my love affair with my penis when I was about 10 yrs old. I discovered that I could kiss and then suck on my fast-developing boy love stick. there has rarely been a day since then that Freddie, my penis, has not spent time in my loving mouth and throat. He actually helped pay for lots of my university expenses with his amazing shows. So, a non-traditional marriage is quite the norm for me. I do also have the traditional family which also provides Freddie and me with endless hours of intense pleasure. My son is currently Freddie"s favourite family member.
 

Jockstrapguy

Administrator
Staff member
I'm in a non-traditional marriage, happily wedded to my wonderful penis. We make passionate, porn-fueled masturbatory love for many hours each day, always while wearing a well-seasoned athletic supporter, of course. My balls are our children, who work diligently 24/7 creating sperm for us to spew into our jockstraps.

I love this!! I also love your profile photo!
 

Redsucked02

More in my albums!
hey jocked Jim.
I totally understand your marriage to your penis. I began my love affair with my penis when I was about 10 yrs old. I discovered that I could kiss and then suck on my fast-developing boy love stick. there has rarely been a day since then that Freddie, my penis, has not spent time in my loving mouth and throat. He actually helped pay for lots of my university expenses with his amazing shows. So, a non-traditional marriage is quite the norm for me. I do also have the traditional family which also provides Freddie and me with endless hours of intense pleasure. My son is currently Freddie"s favourite family member.
Do tell more...
 

engjock

Jockstrap Fan
This is superb. Completely accurate and descriptive. I often wonder about horned up married guys.
Hi Opinionman. Here’s one gay guy’s take on your question.
Firstly, having been a ‘horned up married guy’ for many years before I finally came out, it wasn’t, in my case like this, possibly, fictional story.
Yes, I was often horny and desperate to be fucked and I often enjoyed the encounter, but almost always, once the tension had been released, the remorse, guilt and worry kicked in.
Quite often I hated myself for being a closeted gay. Yes, closeted and, oh yes! married. This was because of the circumstances surrounding me in my early twenties and thirties. Time and time again, I would vow to myself that that last fuck would definitely be the last and listen to the metaphorical angel whispering to me from my right shoulder. Every time, thanks to the devil permanently glued to the opposite ear, the desire would creep back in, sometimes slowly over a month or so, sometimes the next week or even the next day. I could assuage the desire through gay porn, or memories of previous encounters, but every time desire won through and I would give in and go to a cottage - often v risky, a cruising ground - less risky, or a sauna - risk free in a personal sense, but I was always worried about catching an STI. I was a regular at the local STD clinic and always worried about being recognised by a non-gay user.
I also felt an overwhelming sense of guilt to my wife, who I loved and still love, and to my children, all three of whom were blameless.
Do I blame the many guys who fucked me and basically used me? Not at all; a lot of them were like me, using anonymity to satisfy a basic God-given primal need. In turn, I also used them.
Eventually, the pressure grew to much and I came out, first to my wife and then to my two grown-up daughters. Once the dust died down, my wife supported me, while both daughters independently said virtually the same thing, ‘So what? You’re still my dad and I still love you.’
I am now in a Civil Partnership with a wonderful man I met nearly 8 years ago. My wife and family love him and accept him, while my grandchildren accept him and me without prejudice or question.
Oh yes, one more thing. While I enjoyed the random fucks, in most cases, although not all by any means (some were very memorable!), sex, or (as I prefer to call it) making love with my partner, now is way outside anything that I could have imagined before.
A friend who was a journalist, asked me at a party about how I’d really felt, once I’d come out. I had to pause while I took a drink in order to really try and explain my feelings without rambling on. I simply replied that it felt like some invisible person had cut the strings to an increasingly heavy weight that I’d been dragging along for nearly all of my life. I was finally free to enjoy being myself and, for the first time in my life, to proudly celebrate being gay.
Do I still get the urge to have the occasional random, anonymous fuck? Oh yes! Have I, or will I give in again to the devil whispering from my left shoulder? Definitely not. I’ve too much to lose now and absolutely nothing to gain. I’ve been extremely lucky once; I’d never be so lucky again.
I‘m sure that some of the fellow members on this site will read this and recognise my story because they’ve had similar outcomes. However, some will also wonder how I’ve ended up so lucky, because their story has ended with them losing everything that they once held dear. My sympathies are with them, because, as the saying goes, there but for the grace of God go I.
There will be others who simply won’t be able to have any sympathy with a closeted, or in my case former closeted, gay guy. I never asked for sympathy, when the guy who’d just fucked me found out and was disgusted that he’d fucked a ‘perv’ (a description I had thrown at me). All I ever hoped for was understanding that not everyone who’s gay can be as open and out.
I hope that I’ve partly answered your question @Opinionman, even though it might not be the answer you we’re expecting.
 

Redsucked02

More in my albums!
Hi Opinionman. Here’s one gay guy’s take on your question.
Firstly, having been a ‘horned up married guy’ for many years before I finally came out, it wasn’t, in my case like this, possibly, fictional story.
Yes, I was often horny and desperate to be fucked and I often enjoyed the encounter, but almost always, once the tension had been released, the remorse, guilt and worry kicked in.
Quite often I hated myself for being a closeted gay. Yes, closeted and, oh yes! married. This was because of the circumstances surrounding me in my early twenties and thirties. Time and time again, I would vow to myself that that last fuck would definitely be the last and listen to the metaphorical angel whispering to me from my right shoulder. Every time, thanks to the devil permanently glued to the opposite ear, the desire would creep back in, sometimes slowly over a month or so, sometimes the next week or even the next day. I could assuage the desire through gay porn, or memories of previous encounters, but every time desire won through and I would give in and go to a cottage - often v risky, a cruising ground - less risky, or a sauna - risk free in a personal sense, but I was always worried about catching an STI. I was a regular at the local STD clinic and always worried about being recognised by a non-gay user.
I also felt an overwhelming sense of guilt to my wife, who I loved and still love, and to my children, all three of whom were blameless.
Do I blame the many guys who fucked me and basically used me? Not at all; a lot of them were like me, using anonymity to satisfy a basic God-given primal need. In turn, I also used them.
Eventually, the pressure grew to much and I came out, first to my wife and then to my two grown-up daughters. Once the dust died down, my wife supported me, while both daughters independently said virtually the same thing, ‘So what? You’re still my dad and I still love you.’
I am now in a Civil Partnership with a wonderful man I met nearly 8 years ago. My wife and family love him and accept him, while my grandchildren accept him and me without prejudice or question.
Oh yes, one more thing. While I enjoyed the random fucks, in most cases, although not all by any means (some were very memorable!), sex, or (as I prefer to call it) making love with my partner, now is way outside anything that I could have imagined before.
A friend who was a journalist, asked me at a party about how I’d really felt, once I’d come out. I had to pause while I took a drink in order to really try and explain my feelings without rambling on. I simply replied that it felt like some invisible person had cut the strings to an increasingly heavy weight that I’d been dragging along for nearly all of my life. I was finally free to enjoy being myself and, for the first time in my life, to proudly celebrate being gay.
Do I still get the urge to have the occasional random, anonymous fuck? Oh yes! Have I, or will I give in again to the devil whispering from my left shoulder? Definitely not. I’ve too much to lose now and absolutely nothing to gain. I’ve been extremely lucky once; I’d never be so lucky again.
I‘m sure that some of the fellow members on this site will read this and recognise my story because they’ve had similar outcomes. However, some will also wonder how I’ve ended up so lucky, because their story has ended with them losing everything that they once held dear. My sympathies are with them, because, as the saying goes, there but for the grace of God go I.
There will be others who simply won’t be able to have any sympathy with a closeted, or in my case former closeted, gay guy. I never asked for sympathy, when the guy who’d just fucked me found out and was disgusted that he’d fucked a ‘perv’ (a description I had thrown at me). All I ever hoped for was understanding that not everyone who’s gay can be as open and out.
I hope that I’ve partly answered your question @Opinionman, even though it might not be the answer you we’re expecting.
As a formally married man, now gay, I can completely relate to everything you wrote about your experiences! Well said! I was 47 when I finally stepped outta that damn closet, cast aside all those chains holding me back and don't regret anything! Thank you for sharing!
 

engjock

Jockstrap Fan
As a formally married man, now gay, I can completely relate to everything you wrote about your experiences! Well said! I was 47 when I finally stepped outta that damn closet, cast aside all those chains holding me back and don't regret anything! Thank you for sharing!
👍🏻
 

Eshoreman

Jockstrap Fan
Thanks for taking the time to read and enjoy my story. D exists and we live in adjacent small towns; what I wrote about our relationship is true. D identifies as gay though married to a female -- which is a lot more common than I ever realized until D took me to a party where most of the men I met identified as gay (though some identified as bi and a few just "enjoyed sex in any form"). Some of the guys continue to have sexual relations with their spouses, while others describe to me a more platonic relationship and are each others' best friends. Variety -- it really is the spice of life.
 

Opinionman

Jockstrap Fan
Hi Opinionman. Here’s one gay guy’s take on your question.
Firstly, having been a ‘horned up married guy’ for many years before I finally came out, it wasn’t, in my case like this, possibly, fictional story.
Yes, I was often horny and desperate to be fucked and I often enjoyed the encounter, but almost always, once the tension had been released, the remorse, guilt and worry kicked in.
Quite often I hated myself for being a closeted gay. Yes, closeted and, oh yes! married. This was because of the circumstances surrounding me in my early twenties and thirties. Time and time again, I would vow to myself that that last fuck would definitely be the last and listen to the metaphorical angel whispering to me from my right shoulder. Every time, thanks to the devil permanently glued to the opposite ear, the desire would creep back in, sometimes slowly over a month or so, sometimes the next week or even the next day. I could assuage the desire through gay porn, or memories of previous encounters, but every time desire won through and I would give in and go to a cottage - often v risky, a cruising ground - less risky, or a sauna - risk free in a personal sense, but I was always worried about catching an STI. I was a regular at the local STD clinic and always worried about being recognised by a non-gay user.
I also felt an overwhelming sense of guilt to my wife, who I loved and still love, and to my children, all three of whom were blameless.
Do I blame the many guys who fucked me and basically used me? Not at all; a lot of them were like me, using anonymity to satisfy a basic God-given primal need. In turn, I also used them.
Eventually, the pressure grew to much and I came out, first to my wife and then to my two grown-up daughters. Once the dust died down, my wife supported me, while both daughters independently said virtually the same thing, ‘So what? You’re still my dad and I still love you.’
I am now in a Civil Partnership with a wonderful man I met nearly 8 years ago. My wife and family love him and accept him, while my grandchildren accept him and me without prejudice or question.
Oh yes, one more thing. While I enjoyed the random fucks, in most cases, although not all by any means (some were very memorable!), sex, or (as I prefer to call it) making love with my partner, now is way outside anything that I could have imagined before.
A friend who was a journalist, asked me at a party about how I’d really felt, once I’d come out. I had to pause while I took a drink in order to really try and explain my feelings without rambling on. I simply replied that it felt like some invisible person had cut the strings to an increasingly heavy weight that I’d been dragging along for nearly all of my life. I was finally free to enjoy being myself and, for the first time in my life, to proudly celebrate being gay.
Do I still get the urge to have the occasional random, anonymous fuck? Oh yes! Have I, or will I give in again to the devil whispering from my left shoulder? Definitely not. I’ve too much to lose now and absolutely nothing to gain. I’ve been extremely lucky once; I’d never be so lucky again.
I‘m sure that some of the fellow members on this site will read this and recognise my story because they’ve had similar outcomes. However, some will also wonder how I’ve ended up so lucky, because their story has ended with them losing everything that they once held dear. My sympathies are with them, because, as the saying goes, there but for the grace of God go I.
There will be others who simply won’t be able to have any sympathy with a closeted, or in my case former closeted, gay guy. I never asked for sympathy, when the guy who’d just fucked me found out and was disgusted that he’d fucked a ‘perv’ (a description I had thrown at me). All I ever hoped for was understanding that not everyone who’s gay can be as open and out.
I hope that I’ve partly answered your question @Opinionman, even though it might not be the answer you we’re expecting.
Fantastic. This has got to be the story of lots and lots of guys. One of my friends in a close group from hs got married, had four kids, then came out like you. He survived, but I'll bet it was tough. I hope to fuck we're not going to back pedal in this country and damage the rights of people to be who they are, which are not guaranteed in many countries in the world, as you know.
Thanks for the details!
 

Redsucked02

More in my albums!
Fantastic. This has got to be the story of lots and lots of guys. One of my friends in a close group from hs got married, had four kids, then came out like you. He survived, but I'll bet it was tough. I hope to fuck we're not going to back pedal in this country and damage the rights of people to be who they are, which are not guaranteed in many countries in the world, as you know.
Thanks for the details!
All the more reason for all of us to vote this November here in the United States! Our freedoms are being attacked daily and we must vote them out of office! Sorry, but I'm very passionate about these hard won freedoms and how easily we could lose them in the very near future!
 

engjock

Jockstrap Fan
Unfortunately, Redsucked, the view from this side of the pond, with RoevWade overturned and Trump stuffing your Supreme Court with Right-wing members, it looks that way.
Over here we’ve now got a right-wing non-entity of a Prime Minister who’s been foisted on us by c160000 members of the Conservative party. She now got to deliver to those members, plus she’s in hock to the even more rabidly right-wing MPs who voted for her selection in the Parliamentary vote.
We’ve also got a Labour Party who can’t decide how to define what a woman is and are led by a guy who couldn’t organise a piss-up in a brewery.
Welcome back to the future of the 1970s.
That’s it; political rant over.
 

Redsucked02

More in my albums!
Unfortunately, Redsucked, the view from this side of the pond, with RoevWade overturned and Trump stuffing your Supreme Court with Right-wing members, it looks that way.
Over here we’ve now got a right-wing non-entity of a Prime Minister who’s been foisted on us by c160000 members of the Conservative party. She now got to deliver to those members, plus she’s in hock to the even more rabidly right-wing MPs who voted for her selection in the Parliamentary vote.
We’ve also got a Labour Party who can’t decide how to define what a woman is and are led by a guy who couldn’t organise a piss-up in a brewery.
Welcome back to the future of the 1970s.
That’s it; political rant over.
Yikes! And now a new King! Uffda!
 
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