On the Therapist's Couch

"It feels natural, wonderful. The sensation is beyond compare. I'm not sure how to express this so it makes sense, but to act and feel faggy and femme with another guy is something that drives our closet sexuality. Crossdressers who have sex with other males, we embrace being called a faggot or a sissy. We love acting out our gay femininity to masculine males, we love being sought after for sex, to be desired for sex," I told him this using 'we' as me being part of the community of sissy cross dressers.

"How do you balance your closet feminine homosexuality while acting straight to your wife and the rest of the world?" Daniel asked. "As much as I thought I knew about sexuality, I must say I'm fascinated."

"Being a closet sissy faggot means you open a door and step into a fantasy sex world that no one close to you knows about. You then "play act" out your deepest darkest most forbidden taboo homosexual longings. You can be swishy, limp wristed and faggy and femme, the type of behavior that is derided and made fun of by straight folks. When it's over you step out of that secret world and close the door behind you, acting as if nothing out of the ordinary has transpired." I was pleased to give Daniel such an accurate assessment.

"Excuse me for so many questions, but really talking with you about all this is more in depth and complex than I could ever imagine, for a married man, especially." Daniel said with an inquisitive look on his face.

"I'm all yours, s-thir," I said with a fake animated gay lisp as I playfully gave a limp wrist and looked over at him with a glowing smile.

"What about anal sex? That is something we have not touched on. I'm assuming with you being femme you are mainly a bottom?" Daniel was happy to demonstrate some degree of LGBTQ knowledge. "is that something you have engaged in? It is not something that has been brought up."

"We can talk about that. It's something that I don't have a lot of experience with and may have shied away from because of sexual hygiene and safety, especially being married and not wanting to bring anything home with me. There were a few very wonderful times that I really enjoyed being on the receiving end of intercourse. Actually a few years before I met Katie, I snuck that guy into my room while my straight roommate was asleep. We hit it off right away. Lots of passionate, hungry kissing. Once we were naked together our bodies melted into each other as we kissed and pulled on each other's cocks. We licked and sucked each other's cocks, for some reason it was just one of the best gay hookups I had ever had."

"In quiet determination I went down on the guy as he was sprawled across my bed. With his cock in my mouth I lovingly sucked him off till he ejaculated in my mouth. I sucked down every drop of semen from his cock, then bathed his cock and balls with my mouth and tongue. When I returned to his arms we kissed and nuzzled lovingly in the darkness for the longest time, it was fantastic gay sex, we really hit it off. It was over an hour later of rolling around, kissing, being intimate and loving and playing with each other's cocks and he was hard again and I had yet to come. I told him I wanted him to fuck me and I slipped a condom over his cock and climbed on top of him. His cock slid right in and we fucked till we both came. There was no lingerie or women's clothing involved but I felt so very feminine."

"As he was dressing and getting ready to leave, I had some lingerie catalogs laying on the floor, I told him I wanted to be like that for him. When we parted, I'm not sure why I did not get his phone number, we both had such a wonderful time. I'm still kicking myself for not getting his number. I ran into him at a restaurant a few months later and we both knew who the other one was, we saw the acknowledgement in our eyes. I was with someone, as was he, so we could not talk or reconnect. I know we would have dated if I had only gotten his number."

"Those times really heightened my sense of femininity and tie into a lot of my gay wife fantasies," I let slip a bit about what was really going on in my psyche. "I should let you read some of my stories. Then you will really have an insight of how my evil mind really thinks."

"Stories?" Daniel asked with a perplexed look on his face.

"I write porn stories to help me express my sexuality and deal with my homosexual feelings. It gives me an outlet where I might otherwise go crazy, especially trying to deal with and balance living in the closet. I'll send you the links to my stories. You can read up on me, read my stories, if they are not offensive to you. They might give you a much clearer picture of my twisted psyche." If I sent him the stories, it would be doubtful that he might actually read them.

"Tell me what they are about. Is there a common theme to them?" Daniel pressed.

"The story titles should give you a clue about my fantasy world. I told you I longed for an intimate relationship with a man though I had never really been in one or had a boyfriend. One is called "The Homosexual Sissy Wife" another is "Looking For A Husband". Right there, it should raise some flags. The stories are very gay, very indulgent and a lot of explicit gay pornographic sex. Even stories that don't have such obvious titles have the thread of being a boy wife to a man run through them." Telling him this I could tell his mind was racing to keep up with all this new information.

"Not to change the subject, but another thing I meant to ask was what about transgender thoughts? Do you feel like a woman? Do you identify as trans?" Daniel was having a hard time keeping up with all I had revealed.

"Not at all," I replied. "I know I'm male and have no desire to live truly as a woman despite my love of being feminine and my gay wife or boy wife fantasies. I love the faggy and femme aspect, it's exciting to be that type of homosexual, knowing you are the feminine one, the bottom as you mentioned. Many twinks are feminine bottom faggots with no lingerie or makeup. A boy wife is understood to be the feminine partner in a gay relationship taking the feminine submissive role who receives sex, who takes cock rather than gives it. For me, being a boy wife is a wonderful ideal of being desired for sex, being desired for acting femme to accept a man's masculine intentions towards you where you receive sex rather than initiate sex. My gay wife, boy wife fantasies are interchangeable and being feminine in clothing and mannerism are simply an aspect of my faggy homosexual desires."

"So, you'd rather have the role of a wife than a husband?" he asked.

"Pretty much, yes. Twisted, I know. In my straight marriage I do maintain a traditional male husband's role. If I had a steady relationship with a man, I would assume the role as the feminine partner. I love the thought of being desired by a man as feminine for sexual purposes," was my honest response.

"Your wife has no idea? Do you think that these desires to play the feminine role to another man are affecting your marriage?" Daniel was still trying to wrap his head around the enormous complexity of my sexuality and how my hiding it from my wife was impacting the marriage.

"I'm pretty sure she does not. Katie and I have had lengthy talks while doing the dishes together about gay people and homosexuality. She's very open and understanding about gay people and even transvestites. Eddie Izzard is one of her favorite comedians and she thinks his transvestism is cute, amusing, okay. People who have sex changes is something she does not understand, or how a male would have surgery to become a woman."

"I subtly tried to explain that many trans women enjoy having a penis rather than surgery. A chastity device over the penis is common for TS women. Homosexual men have an insatiable desire for sex even if one is a very feminine partner or a TS partner. I tried telling Katie this in a manner that she would not suspect my own homosexual desires and experiences. I don't think she suspects anything. I could be wrong, but it seems that for women in a marriage, sex loses its luster as the years go on. Sex becomes more of a necessary chore to mollify her husband's sexual needs, even if her desire for sex has waned."

"Do you view yourself as gay? And if you do, have you thought about coming out?" Daniel asked pointedly.

"That's kind of why I'm here, trying to sort things out, don't you think?" I responded throwing the obvious back at him with out being too rude.

With that the session for the week ended. When Daniel asked if I viewed myself as gay and if I thought about coming out, it unsettled me quite a bit. That was much of the reason I went to see him in the first place, to reconcile my sexuality being married to Katie yet so obsessed with crossdressing and gay sex. Via email, I did forward on the links to the stories I had written to Daniel, knowing it was unlikely that he'd read them. Katie went up to her folks for the weekend, but I did nothing more than masturbate while she was gone as I was in a state of flux seeing a therapist and my mood told me to keep things simple.

The next session I was rather subdued, rather blah, unsure of myself and my situation. Daniel was an above average guy, taller and bigger than me, he may have been an athlete in college. He always dressed "business casual" in a crisp white or light blue Oxford shirt with no tie. Sometimes he wore a beige polo shirt and usually wore khaki pants and loafers, sometimes without socks. His brown hair was cut fairly short and he wore clear framed glasses. This next session he wore a very deep lavender Oxford shirt, which seemed like it was new or a gift.

"Nice shirt," I commented as we began our session.

"Thank you, maybe too loud for my style. I can roll with it today. A gift from the wife, so I have to wear it at least once, right?" he said, confirming my impression. "I thought you might like it. Anyway, how was your week," he asked as we began.

"It was pretty uneventful," I told him. "The week before than this past week I was a lot hornier and masturbated a lot more than last week."

"Why do you think that was?" Daniel asked.

"Not sure," I replied. "Sometimes my horniness and excitement levels come in waves," which was true, just a blah week.

"Well, I read some of your stories," Daniel told me, much to my surprise. "Well written and very erotic. And yes, you were right, they do give me a very clear snapshot of your sexual psyche."

"Hopefully they did not make you masturbate behind your wife's back, like I do to gay erotica," I joked with him. He gave me a shocked look, then he hesitated a long while before responding.

"That is a rude, very inappropriate statement, Bobby. I will pretend that you did not say that. We can get started." Daniel said, seeming put off by me joking about him masturbating to my stories behind his wife's back. Wow, I must have hit a nerve and I was then rather ashamed of myself for saying what I did.

"Today I think rather than me leading with questions, I will leave it up to you to talk about whatever is on your mind," Daniel said with obvious agitation and displeasure in his voice, apparently an effect from my comment. It was much more than simple clinical aloofness; it seemed as if my comment really upset him.

Again, I was very embarrassed about what I had said and I wanted to crawl into a hole. There were quite a few minutes of silence as my social faux pas killed my usually exuberant mood talking about my sexuality. Waves of shame washed over me. Shame about my rude flippant comment to him, shame about my closet homosexuality, shame about hiding everything from Katie, being a faggy femme gay crossdresser behind her back while she stood up for me and was nearly always kind and supportive to me. When I came into this day's session I was not as upbeat as I usually was, but now rather than speak, tears welled up in my eyes. I tried to fight back my tears, but my sobbing burst out as I ashamedly broke down in front of Daniel.

The weight of a lifetime of acting out my sexuality from the closet, living a lie, came crashing down on me. Up until this point, I was strangely proud of the in-depth gay erotica I had written about my boy wife fantasies and tales of homosexual longings. I was perhaps a little smug that I maintained a dual life as a closet homosexual with such undiscovered ease. Now I was crushed, I felt like a fraud, a fake, a sneaky behind her back sleaze ball more interested in getting my rocks off than being a good person, a good husband to my sweet wife. Daniel sat there in concerned silence. I could not help it as I continued sobbing uncontrollably. I'm sure as a therapist he'd seen this with clients many times. I felt lightheaded and disoriented like the world was spinning. I felt like I did once as a child when I crashed into a fence riding my bike where it nearly knocked me out and my world was spinning as I was crying and my older brother was trying to bring me back to consciousness.

Finally, the sobbing subsided, but I still hurt inside and the ache in my psyche pulsated. I did not really know where I was or who I was. I guess the best way to describe it was an emotional car crash; the doors were ripped off and I went into the dashboard, making it out alive but in physical and emotional shock from the impact.

"I can't go on anymore, today," I bleated out, embarrassed about saying this in a sobbing weak voice, embarrassed I had melted down like this in front of him.

"We can stop and continue this next week," Daniel said.

"That would be best," I said, as Daniel handed me some Kleenex. Through the sniffles and dripping snot, my bleary red eyes, not looking him in the eyes, I sheepishly left.

When I got home, luckily Katie was not there yet. I was a zombie, and everything felt unreal and strange. When Katie got home, she knew something was wrong and was kind and sweet but knew to keep her distance. We had Chinese food delivered and had a quiet night. I actually slept soundly but was still somewhat of a zombie till the weekend. My chronic masturbation ceased, and I tried to maintain it at work, though some people asked if I was okay. I emailed Daniel and told him I was ending therapy. It took me over two weeks before I was really myself again. Katie was kind and loving and did not pry about what was bothering me. I did not press her to have sex which I'm sure she thought was strange as I usually "tried to get lucky" at least once a week if not more up until that point.

She was nice and initiated sex on the weekends and with me pretty much stopping masturbation behind her back, our love making was wonderful and intense. Still, though I tried to fight it, during sex with Katie my fantasy thoughts about gay sex were as powerful as ever. For me to be able to climax inside her, it was only by thinking about kissing men, sucking cock or being some man's boyfriend or wife. Some of my most powerful climaxes inside Katie were of me fantasizing about being in chastity being sexualized by another man. This made me wonder why thoughts of being in chastity turned me on so much, was it a subconscious desire to dampen the flame of my homosexual desires and punish me for them? Thoughts of homosexual scenes during sex with Katie always made sex wonderful and was the only way I could achieve climax.

The fact that my chronic masturbation ended and I was not actively seeking a clandestine homosexual encounter told me that my time in therapy must have helped. My meltdown in Daniels office must have been a catharsis, so in some ways I felt like I righted the ship. When Katie went to visit her folks, I went with her one weekend and was mostly good when she was away other times. Mostly good meant no crossdressing and no sex with other men, though old habits die hard, and I had some very intense jack off sessions to gay porn wearing panties, though I felt guilty afterwards and tried to put these types of jack off sessions out of my mind.

Life with Katie had settled back into a good routine and it seemed I had mostly vanquished my demons of excessive masturbation and anonymous gay sex. Rarely did I do any cross dressing and while I was masturbating now and then in a pair of panties, it was a fraction of what I was doing before. In a stroke of fate, I met a guy at the coffee shop I frequented and he slowly and kindly was hitting on me. I was flattered and felt like a teenage girl from the attention. This unexpected gay prospect threw me for a loop, and I fought it for the longest time. In my back and forth in emails with Rick I let on about my past sexual flings while I cross-dressed. Though I loved the attention from him and the prospect of hooking up, being married with things going fairly well, it was crushing me with guilt. I wanted him so badly and told him "if only" and to understand my situation.

Rick was not pushy and said he understood and was recently divorced. He told me to take my time, if things were right to move forward, I would know when that was. His kind, sly patience must have done the trick. One weekend with Katie out of town I gave in and went over to Rick's place for drinks. We talked for an hour or so on his couch when I gave in and leaned into him for a kiss. Our passions exploded, kissing him brought everything I had been fighting to the surface, but it was too late to stop. I had worn panties and stockings under my clothes so when Rick took me to bed I was right back to where I always loved to be -- acting femme and faggy with another man. Through our conversations and emails he knew of my feminine homosexual leaning. This was unlike my previous anonymous gay hook ups in that after talking and communicating with him for months we knew each other. It was a fabulous sexual encounter; kissing, nuzzling, groping and fondling of cocks, frotting cocks together.

Admittedly Rick's mouth on my penis felt divine in our homosexual sixty-nine. Another man's mouth on your penis and balls is so unlike that of a woman's; a man's mouth is tingly horny passion where with most women it is merely tepid wetness. Katie would rarely put it in her mouth barely holding it inside for very long and certainly never really sucking or *gasp* sucking me off. I whispered lovingly in Rick's ear to make love to me and as he penetrated me with my legs spread, my own cock was throbbing.

Of all the gay encounters I ever had, getting fucked by Rick was one of the best experiences. His ejaculation inside me and my own ejaculation as I masturbated furiously with him fucking were two remarkable climaxes. My hookup with Rick broke new ground in that I had never slept with another man the entire night, always just anonymous "wham bam thank you man" hookups. In the morning Rick made love to me again in our newfound sexual union. He was kind and sweet to me as we relished the incredible sensation of our gay relationship; it felt so natural and right despite that I was married. Our homosexual affair was ongoing for several months now with me actually having a boyfriend for the first time in my life, even though we'd only get together once a week, if that.

With an ongoing relationship with Rick I was back beyond the place I was when I broke therapy off with Daniel. My guilt and shame of having a gay affair behind Katie's back was no less troubling though it did not seem to affect me in the ways in did before. I was calmer and rationalized living in two worlds, still not knowing really what I should be doing about it or where it would lead or would it blow up in my face with an emotional meltdown like that last session with Daniel. During this time the dynamic of my relationship with Katie and the nature of our sexual interaction was changing. Katie's closest friend from college had recently moved back to the area with her husband. And no, it's not what you are thinking, no, it was not us four being 'swinging' couples, not even close. And no, Katie did not have a lesbian affair with her friend Leslie.