Speaking of In the Closet

I'll never forget the first few times that we had sex. The intellectual connection that Mr. Kinky and I were feeling just added to the tension from the subtle sexual innuendos and height of flirting that we'd reached. At times, I wasn't even sure if the flirting WAS actual flirting and the entire guessing game of it all made my mind race and my panties wet.

Our first few sexual encounters happened after I'd moved out during my first separation with my now, ex-husband. They lasted for hours. The tension was tremendous. And when we finished, we'd start all over again. I knew he'd not had many or any sexual experiences in his life and would jokingly tell him that I could never sleep with him because he's so young that I'd corrupt him for life.

In all likelihood, I figured that I'd be the one doing the teaching. I'd been around the block a few times, even before my first marriage. I knew what I wanted to receive. I knew what I wanted to give. And I knew that I'd have little difficulty expressing what I wanted him to do.

What I certainly didn't anticipate was that some people just have natural sexual instincts. Eventually, I'd find out later that Mr.Kinky had never been with a woman, perhaps never even kissed a women in his young, 21 years. I'd also find out later that he'd had a boyfriend, both of them closeted, for two years before I'd met him. They'd been high school friends. Apparently it'd progressed into a sexual encounter one day during an episode of Jeopardy. (Yea... go figure!)

In something that I'll cover in a future blog, Mr.K would come to tell me that for him, it was purely a physical relationship, though his boyfriend was in it emotionally. And yes, it was a closeted relationship.

On the outside my Mr. Kinky appeared the young, intelligent, straight, artsy, music nerd. (Such species is extremely attractive to the intelligent, straight, artsy, music nerd colleague.) It had never occurred to me that he might be gay. Actually, I don't recall ONE of our friends ever saying that. This is not to say that I was burying my head in the sand either. I'd had many gay friends throughout the years. And my very best friend in high school was gay. I thought I had pretty good gaydar! But, Mr. K walked and talked like a duck, so to speak.

Now during those first few encounters, Mr. K would just leave me exhausted, spent and sweaty and..........wanting more. After a few "dates" of going out to dinner and then dancing and then back to my apartment for our love fest, we decided that we should probably just skip the overture so that we'd have more energy for the finale. He'd come over and we'd make dinner, and then have wine while naked in bed. He'd make love to me. We'd talk. We'd laugh. We'd make love.

The lustfulness of it all was just like nothing I'd ever experienced. And this young man, who'd never been with a woman before, taught ME a few things about sex, and myself. All along, I'd thought I might have to teach him a few tricks to make the whole experience worthwhile. Well, never once did I have to. I'll never forget the sight of him in my apartment kitchen after an evening spent in bed together, in his underwear and wife-beater, making me breakfast in the wee hours of the morning.

We were both so enamoured by each other and our new found "buddy" that we both spilled the beans to a few of our fellow music majors. Neither of us wanted to admit that we'd told anyone. But no one seemed surprised once they found out. And that just fanned the flames for us to hook up in the afternoon, in the mornings, all evening and anywhere we could. I cant recount how many times we'd walk into a rehearsal a bit disheveled and both wearing guilty grins.

Mr. K's boyfriend was by no means happy at the time we'd been spending together. I remember how Mr. K and I'd had been in his apartment messing around when there had been a knock on the door. We both knew who it might be. Mr. K answered the door and had to admit to his boyfriend that he had me in the bedroom. They broke it off sexually, soon after.

They'd continue to remain friends over the next few years both in a sexual and semi-emotional relationship, both still closeted, though Mr. K would come out within two years. Mr. K and I would continue to see each other for a couple of months and then break it off sexually, for the most part, over the next several years.

I'll eventually get to the actual sexual encounters, the swingers parties, the events between and leading up to our marriage and how the hell it all works for us. I have so much to tell, that I might be a while.

In the beginning, there was a closet.

I met my beautiful husband in college. We were both music students. I, being the nontraditional student, having come back to college for a second chance at finishing my degree for real this time was certainly an old fish out of water. I only met the future Mr. Kinky Freckles well into my first semester back. I don't believe we actually even noticed each other until my appearance as a replacement to a fairly bad flutist at our university. Apparently, I was better or something.

From then, Mr. Kinky and I just chatted. He was going through a hard time with his mother, who at the time was in the hospital having tried to commit suicide for the second time. I'll never forget the night we spent several hours talking in the hallway of the music building.

I began falling that evening. I was actually in the middle of a good marriage turned sour. I was back in school to get my degree and to be able to finally know that I could take care of myself. Once I could take care of myself, I could make the decision on whether I should get out or not, though I knew the answer already.

In the weeks ahead, our ensemble traveled to Honduras and perform concerts at the National Theater and at several schools throughout. At the time, Mr. Kinky was affectionately known among our fellow musicians as "the boy scout". This trip was just the beginning of a long, beautiful, and very nontraditonally wonderful relationship.

We discussed the similarities of Italian, and Spanish. He spoke Italian fairly well, and I touted everything I remembered from my high school Spanish class. (mostly probably wrong....)

Several months passed. I seperated from my husband. Mr. Kinky and I went to lunches or for drinks after concerts, performances, etc. He'd let me vent. He'd flirt. I'd flirt. My heart would pound wildly in my chest. How thrilling it was to have a young, sexy, very intelligent and talented young man interested in me enough to flirt with me. You see, he was 21 and I was 31.

Soon after I moved out, the tension had been enough, and we ended up in bed together. And let me tell you this was the most mind-blowing sex that I'd ever had! Mr.Kinky still rocks my world to this day! Once, I'd slept with him, his scent never left me. And I mean, I could just conjure it up at will for the next six years.

After seeing each other for about two months, I decided to try again with my hubby. And I would spend the next six years trying.

And wouldn't you know it, during this time, Mr. Kinky................

he CAME OUT of the FREAKING CLOSET!!

Yes.... my Mr. Kinky.... my young sex pot, the only man who could make me cum within 10 seconds of any love making, was GAY!

The stories that follow are of our sex life; HIS.....MINE.....and OURS, how we ended up very married and in love, of the adventures we've had, and how this all works for us!

Stay tuned!