When one resides in a small Midwestern town of the United States and cannot resist recreational sex with a male, what is the answer? The choice is simple: either stay or go.

If the choice is to stay home and find a willing partner, chances are the candidate will be familiar. This certainly heightens the adrenaline rush of outlaw sex. Of course, sometimes the risks involved are far more arousing than the actual sex.

If the recourse is a familiar candidate, both parties know there is an unspoken bond of secrecy, especially when this involves married bi-sexuals.

For a time, I placed personal ads with select on-line services and achieved some memorable results.

The number of married bi-sexual men in small towns is quite astonishing. Beneath the façade of civic respectability: professionals, church members, youth-league coaches – lurks a male with a penchant for cock. There is no easy profile for quick detection. No gay radar. Stereotypes of fags, queens and swishes have no application. Many married bi-sexual men are happy with the flourishes of a straight life – they just happen to enjoy casual, “no-strings attached” sexual experiences with other adult males.

The initial response to my personal ad occurred rather quickly. People who solicit partners for casual sex through personal online ads recognize the feeding frenzy.

My prime candidate lived in the same small town. This was both cause for immense anxiety and a perverse exhilaration. Because: what if we really knew each other? What if our wives were friends? What if our children attended school together? And then: who makes the first move? Who is going to be dominant or submissive? Lastly: where can any activity occur without detection?

If e-mail contact persists after an initial exchange of information, there is a cat-and-mouse game of more revelations. This usually happens over the first 48-hours. And then, one must commit to some meeting, or it’s simply a pointless exchange of photos and pornographic fantasies.

Imagine my surprise when I quickly discovered the candidate was Rob, a long-time co-worker. After 15-plus years, I ended my role with the company and moved on to another position. Although Rob and I had not worked directly with one another, we had been in the same family-owned business setting for all those years.

More than a surprise, it was a shock to consider a rendezvous with Rob. In my ad, I had already indicated my complete willingness to perform oral sex. So, he knew I was a cocksucker.

Rob was in his mid-40s, attractive and very fit. In fact, he worked out at the local gym so often he was a border-line narcissistic. Yet as Gore Vidal said: “A narcissist is someone better looking than you are.”

Add to the mix, I knew Rob’s wife and children; all this seemed like typical small town clichés, though nothing like a Norman Rockwell illustration.

I called Rob at work to arrange a meeting, and it seemed awfully weird to speak to a former co-worker – a married man, about an illicit sexual rendezvous. We both knew what was going to happen. Rob would expose his seven-inch cock and I would give him a long, lingering blow job.That evening, around 8 p.m., we met on an off-road area by a lake in the country. It was mid-September and still warm in the evening. Both our wives thought we were involved with separate and unrelated matters.

For a time, we sat in Rob’s sports car and made some nervous small-talk. It was only a matter of time, of course – and time was really of the essence. We moved from his car and Rob sat on the hood of my vehicle. He wasted no time exposing his cock. He was already stiff and throbbing.

Rob’s cock was appealing beyond words. He was large and smooth and appropriately thick. How could I possibly resist pleasing him? I couldn’t. Nothing mattered anymore. Our past didn’t matter. Our wives didn’t matter. I sucked his cock in a worshipful way. I seemed to control Rob’s mood with my mouth. With every subtle movement of my mouth, he groaned more and more. Finally, Rob surrendered and filled my mouth with his hot cum.

As I resumed my straight life, all I could think of for days was: I gave Rob a blow job. And I wanted to repeat the experience over and over again.

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