Before And After the Divorce - 1. The Wedding, Honeymoon, and Trouble Starts

"Geez, I'm so nervous Dave."

My much older brother looked at me with an expression on his face that was easily interpreted as 'no shit?'

"I can't understand why. You're 19, have a baby on the way, and can barely pay your own bills."

"Yeah, but when my probationary period is over, I'll get a decent raise."

"Yeah, you always had a stick with it and do your best attitude. You should be alright if you add a part-time job to the mix."

I've always been good with my hands. Yeah, I know; that's what she said. But really, I have a job as a carpenter on a construction crew. I've been there four months, and in two more, I'll be able to join the union and make $20 an hour. It's not a fortune, but if we watch our money, we'll be able to afford the apartment, car insurance, food and other necessities. If, like Dave said, I get a part-time job too, we might even be able to afford one luxury. That is, until the baby comes.

It's time to head out into the church proper. We're getting married in a non-denominational church. I was raised Catholic, but they had too many rules and too many hoops to jump through to get married in my regular church, Lacy being pregnant and all. Or should I say my parents' church. I don't go anymore, now that mom and dad can't force me to go.

OK, now Dave and I are standing by the altar, waiting for Lacy and her father to come up the aisle. They enter the church. Damn, she's beautiful. We couldn't afford a traditional wedding gown, but she's wearing an ivory dress, down to just above her knees, with silver sequins or rhinestones, something sparkly, starting at the collar, down the front in a 'Y' shape. The sparklies continue around the hem and on the ends of her sleeves. I'm sure I have one or more of the terms wrong. Does a dress even have a collar? What the fuck do I know about women's clothes? I know it looks great on her. What else matters?

Me; I'm in a navy-blue pinstripe suit, a powder blue button-down shirt, and a medium blue and red striped tie. Yeah, a tuxedo was out of the question as well.

After the ceremony we have a nice dinner at a local Italian restaurant, Vincenzo's. With all four of our parents being Italian, it was the obvious choice. But it's a nice place. We have their smaller banquet room. The fare reminds me of Olive Garden's Tour of Italy. Lasagna, fettuccini alfredo, and chicken parmigiana. Only because they're named the same. Vincenzo's is way better.

Then it's on to the honeymoon. Some honeymoon, two nights at a Holiday Inn. Well, we get breakfast in the morning. Lacy's not too pregnant yet. Wait, that didn't sound right. You're either pregnant or not. She hasn't been pregnant too long yet, four months and a couple days since C-day. Conception day if it wasn't obvious. Therefore, we spend most of the weekend in bed. I lost count, but I think we made love 9 or 10 times between Friday night's check-in and Sunday morning's checkout. I won't bore you with the details, let's just say we took a healthy chunk out of the Kamasutra.

Then it was back to work on Monday. That's really where the troubles began, but Lacy didn't find out for almost seven years. Dominic was a little over six years old at that point. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Monday morning, a new guy joined the crew. Zach Washington. I never really felt any sort of attraction to a boy, or in this case, a young man, before. There was just something about him. I was majorly confused. I mean, I knew what being gay was. I just didn't think I was like that. I liked having sex with Lacy, and I thought she was beautiful and all that, but I was never sure I loved her. Now I'm not saying I fell in love with Zach right away. That wasn't it. But it was something. I said hi, welcome to the crew, things like that, but I knew I wasn't going to be able to hold up my half of a full conversation, so I pretty much ignored him the whole first week.

On Friday, as we were packing up at the end of the day, Zach took the first step.

"Dylan, can I ask you something?"

I knew before I spoke, I was going to be tongue-tied.

"Um. Y-yeah."

"Did I do something wrong?"

"N-no. Wh-why?"

"Other than hi, goodbye, or hand me that hammer, you haven't said two words to me all week. The rest of the guys are friendly. I've tried to start conversations with you, but you always seem to keep it from going anywhere. What did I do?"

Take a breath, Dylan. You can't stutter through this. It's not going to end soon. Or end well, probably.

"Nothing."

"Then why haven't you opened up? Is is because I'm black? We have to work together; we can't have that kind of stuff here."

"No. I have no problem with you being black. Shit. This is hard."

"Just take your time and tell me."

"OK. I'm not gay, but I think I like you."

"You like me, but you ignore me. And what would being gay have anything to do with it? I'm missing something."

"I can't explain it, but I guess I'm attracted to you."

"But you're married, right?"

"Yeah, with a kid on the way. That's what makes it hard for me to deal with these feelings."

"Can we go somewhere, sit down, and talk this out?"

"Like, a date?"

"No. Just two guys having a drink together."

"I can't drink. I'm only 19."

"Oh, I thought you were older. I'm 23. How about DQ, or will that spoil your dinner?"

"That could work."

We meet at the DQ down the street from the job site. We both order a blizzard, mine small, and sit down at at table.

"So, help me understand. You're married, but you feel attracted to me in a way that most men don't feel toward other men. Is that right?"

"Um, yeah. I can't put my finger on it, but I'm... I don't know, getting some vibe off you or something that I don't understand."

"Have you ever heard of gaydar?"

"Yeah, I've heard the term before."

"But, do you know what it is?"

"I guess. Recognizing that someone is gay without being told."

"Close enough. I don't tell the world, but I'm gay. I don't think I've been sending any signals, but I do think you're attractive, so maybe you have some form of gaydar."

"But wouldn't I need to be gay to do that?"

"At least partially, yeah. I mean, you're married and I'm sure you have sex with your wife, but maybe..."

"Maybe I'm bisexual?"

"Yeah."

"No offense, but I don't want to suck your dick or have sex with you."

"None taken. But these feelings you have don't need to result in a sexual relationship. Do you have any brothers?"

"Yeah, one, about 14 years older than me."

"Do you love him?"

"Of course."

"Do you want to have sex with him?"

"No!! OK, I get it. I have these feelings, maybe similar to love, even though I'd never get in bed with a man."

"Never say never, but yeah."

"Well, I guess that helps. I'm still confused about all of it, but I won't need to ignore you anymore. Sorry about that."

"It's quite alright. I understand why now. So, one more question. You said you're OK with me being black, are you OK with me being gay?"

"Yeah. Just don't hit on me."

"Hehe. OK, at least not until you ask me to."

"Um, I don't see that happening."

"We'll see."

Things were OK for a long time. I got along well with Zach, we were friends, but never crossed over the threshold into gaydom. That is until I turned 21. Married almost two years, a year and half old child that still had the occasional night he wouldn't sleep through. All of that led to a severely reduced sex life. We were pretty good friends by then, Zach and me. One Friday night after a particularly busy work week, he suggested we go out for drinks. I called Lacy, told her I was going to grab dinner with the guys and go out for a drink afterward. She was fine with it. She'd been telling me I should find a hobby, or some friends or something. There were four of us that grabbed some pizza together, but only Zach and I went for drinks.

We talked about work; how sucky the week was. We talked about sports. After a few drinks, I confided in him that my sex life wasn't what I wanted it to be. By this time, you could say I was a little buzzed.

"I'm sorry. Is it Lacy saying no all the time?"

"Not exactly. There just doesn't seem to be a good time anymore. I don't jerk off a whole lot, hoping we can make the time, we just don't. It's frustrating."

"Why don't we go back to my apartment, maybe I can help you out with that."

"You mean...?"

"Yeah, I would help you gain release."

"I'm sure it's the alcohol talking, but yeah, let's go."

We settled the tab, and I followed him to his apartment.

"Don't you have a boyfriend or anything?"

"No, I broke up with my last one a couple months ago."

"So, how do we do this?"

"Let's just sit on the sofa first, maybe hold each other."

So, we did that. Holding led to kissing. I never really thought about kissing a man before. I thought it would gross me out. Again, maybe it was the alcohol talking, but I enjoyed kissing Zach. After a little while, he reached for my belt. I flinched at first, but then told him to go ahead. We kept up the kissing while he undid my pants, reaching inside my undershorts once he made enough room. Maybe it was because I hadn't had sex in a while, but I got very hard, very quick. I reached for his belt, not even thinking about what I was doing. I wrapped my hand around his cock, and I felt like it was so right. By this time, he was rubbing me gently. He stopped kissing me for a minute.

"Let's go into the bedroom."

"OK."

Once in the bedroom, he finished the job of undressing me. I was standing naked in front of another man for the first time since I was maybe six or seven and showered with Dave for the last time. He took off his clothes and I just stared at his naked body for a few moments before he pulled me close and kissed me again. We laid down on the bed, our hands wrapped around the other's cock. What started as gentle rubbing quickly graduated to full-on jerking off. He made me cum in just a couple minutes. My cumming pulled him over the edge to having his climax. I felt his cum hitting my abdomen before he rolled over on top of me. We were both still completely erect when he started kissing down my neck, chest, and stomach. When he put his mouth over my turgid cock, I moaned with pleasure. He did things with his mouth that I'd never felt before. The few rare times Lacy gave me a blowjob, it was straight sucking until I was ready to cum, then finishing with a hand job. After a few minutes, I could feel the pressure building back up.

"Stop. I... I'm gonna cum."

He didn't stop, so I had no choice but to unload into his mouth. We both moaned in pleasure. When I finished cumming, he moved back up the bed and kissed me sharing my cum. I don't know why, but this turned me on more, so I started kissing down his body.

"You don't have to do that."

"I know. I want to. I need more. I want to try it."

He obviously didn't complain. I knew to be careful of my teeth while I was sucking him. I had a cock in my mouth for the first time in my life and I wasn't disgusted. There were still some remnants of our cum on it. Tasting that just drove me harder. A couple more minutes of sucking him, he told me he was cumming. But like him, I didn't stop. Taking as much of his cum in as I could, swallowing most of it, but some still leaked out of my mouth. I followed his lead and moved back up the bed for another round of kissing and cuddling. After a few minutes, he spoke up.

"Are you OK with this?"

"Yes. Even though it may have been the alcohol contributing, I don't feel buzzed anymore. I enjoyed myself. I may have a delayed reaction to this, but for now, yeah, I'm OK."

"Good. I wouldn't want you to feel bad or like I forced you into anything, Dylan."

"No. I went willingly. I'll probably have a lot of thinking to do when it really hits me what we did. But I don't regret it."

"Come on. Let's clean you up. I don't think going home smelling like cum is something you want to do right now."

"No, definitely not. Um, do you have a spare toothbrush?"

"Yeah, I can get you one."

We went into the bathroom together. He took a washcloth, wet it and soaped it up and cleaned my stomach and genitals. I brushed my teeth and gave him a quick peck before I got dressed. Before I went out the door, he gave me a shot of JD.

"Have to mask the toothpaste smell. See you in work on Monday."

"Yes. Thanks for this Zach. I'll be confused about it for a while, but in the end, I'll know it was right."

"You're welcome. Maybe we can do it again some time."

"Yeah. I think I'd like that."

I got home, it was a little late, but not very. Lacy was still awake. I kissed her hello, no bad reaction. Masking the toothpaste worked.

"Did you have a good time?

"Yeah. Like you said, it was good to get out and not have to worry about anything for a couple hours."

"Yes, you do seem a little more relaxed than usual. Maybe you should make this a regular thing. You don't seem like you're drunk. As long as you control how much you drink, I think you should have a regular night out with the guys."

"Maybe. With working some evenings at Home Depot, and those nights not being regular, it may be tough."

"You'll figure something out. It doesn't have to be the same night every week. You've mentioned that Zach is pretty close to your age. Were you with him tonight?"

Oh, boy, was I with him.

"Yeah. Mike and Charlie too, but they left after only one drink. Zach and I stayed a little longer and watched the Phillies, nursing a couple more."

"There you go. When you know the next week's schedule, pick a night, go to a sports bar or whatever and just let it all go."

So, I did that. That kind of ended up being strike three in the long run. Strike one was simply my attraction to him. Strike two was the mutual attraction and the gay/straight line getting obliterated that first time. Strike three was her giving me the go ahead to see him regularly. Of course, she didn't know it at the time. I kept it hidden for quite some time. But I'm human. Humans make mistakes.

Next up - "Leading a Double Life"