The big reveal: sex, lies and secrets

Talking about sexuality is never easy when our feelings are outside the realm of the “Norm.”  Since puberty I have had a unique way of masturbating, however, never has it turned any of my lovers off, nor caused me to feel awkward when confessing the pleasure I occasionally find in my hubbies pillow.  But it was no easy task. Once he knew, however, it became a proper form of foreplay and led to a great source of arousal for us both.  The same holds true for the topic and of Bisexuality.  It wasn’t easy for me to admit to him that I have found females in pornography erotic or fantasized once about being involved in the lesbian flick we were watching.  Not easy at all, especially given how w  Likewise, it was not easy at all for him to admit to having on multiple occasions sexually involving himself with men, alone, with men.  From sucking his best friend off while they watched porn as teens, to a golfing partner twice his elder sleeping with him and getting my baby to find his inner voyeur. Not easy to blindly admit to your spouse whom you love infinitely but may leave you forever based on said admission.

Well as JFK said, “we choose to do these things not because they are easy….” well, I can be quite persuasive and get my husband to emote his darkest secrets quite willingly.  I have my ways and will share them with you.  As long as he loves you, and he has know reason to mistrust you truth will find you in short time.  My stubborn husband usually has confessed completely honest and in depth within 4-6 hours from the start of the inquiry.  We always emerge stronger out the other side, regardless.  Sometimes truth can be a hard to swallow, but we have always managed to talk through adversity .  The hurt from feeling lied to about hubbies prior Bi romps subsided when time aloud me to see that he was unsure of his “label” and definitely did not want to risk losing his soul mate over a classification with know clear criteria.  To him, he had given head under the assumption it was typical boys being boys, he had gotten down on all fours for a family friend who lured him in with alcohol and boobs only to pin him against those tiny pointed tits that offered no comfort or pleasure while he showed him forcefully the bottom.*  My husband openly divulged to taking this “friend” twice more, each time slightly more willingly. This experience left him with three things for certain:

  1. A ferocious disdain for Seagram’s VO whiskey.  The smell triggers near PTSD symptoms yet weirdly a harder than normal cock and feverish drive to get in me.
  2. An understanding of feeling an orgasm triggered solely on prostate stimulation.  Although, he was not aware why he had it until we discussed it, nor I call it his lil G spot.
  3. A barrier between him and his previously unfelt bisexual feelings caused by his alcoholic memory suppression.

My husband is loving and caring and means mostly well. A real Genius, academically, philosophically and occasionally emotionally.  As well as an extremely handsome man.  At times are those moments when he loses control of his ever-firing neurons and is lost briefly in a storm of paranoia and anxiety, so rare I often forget he suffers from time to time from acute anxiety and PTSD.  These rare and brief episodes must be horrendous… it is evident from the green in his cheeks and the vacancy in his eyes immediately following, but he always musters a joke.  This particular day he did not address his delusional worries he had conjured up after the abnormal incident of an unscheduled 3pm Grocery run,  instead he felt lucky to be alive.  His pain had left him so happy to be alive he could not live with the elephant in the room another day.  He confessed…most sex secrets, he was a bit confused but ever so relieved when I told him that I accept him for all and everything that he is. The ground floor had been laid.  Truth.  My patience and willingness to focus only on what I knew was true, gave us time.  Time healed his fear and shame, his devotion to his wife forced him to come clean. Our wounds were amazingly healed with the most passionate, intense sex ever.  Replacing the mental void we slowly crafted a fantasy scenario that even Penthouse or Hustler could concoct.  We now had our unicorn defined.

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