RG's "Bloggers With Which I Would Engage In Sex"

I'm crushed!....CRUSHED... I tell you!!!... that I didn't make the cut for Dulce Y Peligroso's list of bloggers he would engage in sex with.   (RG is a very sexy, very funny blogger from Boston.)  In truth, I've posted only a couple of sexy underwear and Speedo pics of me which I only left up for a short time.  So...* sniff * ... I understand being omitted.

To throw my hat in the ring, here is an actual picture of me taken moments ago.

RG invited other bloggers to publish their own "sex list."  I'm not quite bold enough to do that just yet, but expect I will, one day.  Suffice it to say, the bloggers on his list would definitely be on my list as well, with several additions.

Growing up Without Porn

Would I have figured out that I was gay sooner if I had had access to gay porn at a younger age?   

My friends, cousins, brothers and I grew up in an environment in which pornography was just about absent.  We rarely saw it, never talked about it and indeed, barely knew it existed.  We lived in a small, rural town where everyone knew everyone else and porn was completely off the radar.  Where would you get it without everyone knowing?  Strict puritanical laws in our state strictly controlled all "immorality";  no Sunday shopping, restaurants not allowed to serve alcohol and no porn publicly displayed in shops.

My only childhood memory of porn was in grade 5, a back-and-white photo of a woman, naked from the waist up, being passed around.  "Funnel tits," we called her.  I couldn't see what the other boys were so excited about, especially since I grew up in a family with a very casual attitude about family nudity.  Naked breasts and penises galore were things I'd seen 'in the flesh' countless times before.

At 24, living in a major city on my own, I wandered into a porn shop and looked at my very first gay porn magazine, "Torso" or "Inches" or something.  Although I was obviously curious and drawn to look, I never once thought why I wanted to look.  I was completely oblivious;  absolutely non-reflective! 

I found the pictures themselves just gross and I left immediately, never to return!!  The models were mainly skinny, homely boys with huge grossly swollen members.  Ick!   These were the first erections I'd ever seen, except my own.

At 26, in another city's public library, I saw the book The Joy of Gay Sex on the shelf.  Again, I was compelled to look inside and was instantly revolted yet fascinated by the line drawings.  Men were engaged in things I'd never imagined such as anal sex and cock-sucking.  It was just disgusting and I put the book away quickly.  I'll admit, however, that I did pop an erection while looking at it.  Again, "the lights were on but no one was home."   I didn't even once consider what my curiosity might signify.

In my early 30s, married with two kids, and enjoying (...no savouring... wallowing in....) frequent sex with my wife, we got our first internet service.  At first, I only looked at straight sex... penis in vagina, the juicier the better ... in fact, I still love looking at this. To this day, I cannot look at video clips of anal sex or pictures of assholes without feeling nauseous.  

Fairly quickly, I moved on from straight sex to looking at naked men alone, but never men-on-men.  For the first time in my life, I had unlimited access to pictures of naked men.  My attraction to men was something I could no longer ignore.....

12 of 12

A big thank you to Jayson of Bi Guys Like Me  who included my blog on his blogroll yesterday.  Gosh!  In one fell swoop I was pushed into the blogging stratosphere!!!   My original goal as a blogger was to share my story and to receive experienced advice from other bi/gay-married-with kids guys.  I have received a wealth of incredible advice which I pay close attention to.  Without exaggeration, every comment and every single piece of advice has been a valuable contribution to my understanding of my situation. 


Please, keep the advice and comments coming!


I am also getting a sense that other blog readers who are still closeted to their wives are following my story in anticipation of starting such a journey themselves.  I hope telling my story helps them in their journey, either as a cautionary tale of what not to do or as a inspiration.  (likely, there will be elements of both)  To those guys, I would be honoured if you to drew parallels from my situation and applied them to yours.  Best of luck!

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Here is a completely "non-gay" post. Don't worry, Wednesday's post will continue my gay story and include some hot bulges.  For now, read about Chad Darnell's 12_of_12 project and check out the links page to see pictures taken all over the world by lots of  bloggers.

This month, I thought it would be best to have a 12 of 12 with no pictures nor any details of me at all.  These were all taken in the wilderness near from my house.  The Interior Plateau can be rugged but is not as mountainous as people would imagine British Columbia to be. As you can see, we have snow, rocks and trees in abundance.

What do you want?

This question was asked of me quite a few times over the past year by a variety of people.   At the time, I did not know what I wanted.  Actually, I still thought that my marriage was salvageable and I could live a married life with some degree of intimacy.  I would just not act on my same sex attraction.  This is no longer possible;  there is no salvaging this marriage!

I  always gave an evasive non-answer.  "I want my kids to come out of this not all screwed up.", " I want my wife to be happy." etc.  The questioner would then repeat the question more forcefully, "What do YOU want?"  I wouldn't answer honestly.

Finally, I now know the one thing which I want more than anything:   a divorce.  I just want to be free of the drama, conflict and bitterness.  Although our conversations over the phone can be quite civil, during face-to-face meetings, the hurt, bitterness, personal attacks and hatred often come spilling out.  I understand why these feelings are there, but they make communication and planning for our future impossible.

I plan to talk to a therapist soon.  I hope to find out what can one person do to get another to move past these negative emotions and to begin talking constructively.  We have to be talking to each other if there is any hope of ending with the best possible outcome for everyone in the family.

I know time will help, but I fear this will require a very, very long time indeed.

Shrinkage + Frostbite

The start of my marathon training is going extremely well. Knees, don't fail me now!! I am starting out very slowly, running about 3 - 4 miles per week. I will increase my mileage by about 10% per week until June.

I hope to be running about 20 miles per week when I start my 'official' training schedule which will run from June 12 to the marathon on October 9.   (I'm following the First-time and Casual Marathon training schedule.)  The biggest mistake is to increase your mileage too quickly; the risk is an over-use injury.

My theory is that every step taken during marathon training is like depositing money in the bank. Then during the marathon, you withdraw all of it, all at once. Also: in my experience, once you commit to a training schedule, you cannot miss a training run regardless of exhaustion, rain or freezing temperatures. If you miss even a single training run, it becomes a slippery slope and before you know it, you've missed too many to be properly conditioned for the race.

Temperatures here have been chilly, about -20 to -26 C. My neighbour is from SE Asia in the tropics who says, "It's not just the fact that it's -30 below, it's the HOWLING WIND!!! Add wind and it feels like -35 or -40 C. As much as I love winter, training in winter is a hassle. Pitch darkness, icy roads, difficult to dress correctly and a risk of eskimo lung.

As every northerner knows, your appendanges are at most risk of getting frostbite... fingers, earlobes, toes, your nose.... Half-way through a 3-mile run last night, I started to feel sharp pain in my pork sword, ... trouser snake ... dangling appendage. OMFG!!! FROSTBITE!! I competed the rest of the run through the neighbourhood at a sprint, both hands shoved down the front of my pants cupping my manhood. Undignified or what!

The next day it was even colder. I wore two layers of spandex shorts with a plastic grocery bag shoved in between to cut the wind and a pair of windbreaker pants over all.

An aside: I should try this look in the summer without the wind pants; the plastic bag gives a most impressive bulge... it might be one way to attract the attention of the closeted, hottie DILFs in the neighbourhood. (more about them in another post)

Ski Cam

This is not what I look like;  I just think the spandex skinsuits are hot!

We discovered several years ago that a unified front is essential when raising two teenagers.  When decisions had to be made, large or small, we would discuss the matter together and, despite our differing parenting styles, always managed, somehow, to arrive at an agreement.  

Only then the kid in question was told, "Yes, you may do this;  no you may not do that."   Although our marriage was lacking in most other departments, this was one thing which we were pretty good at, I think.


It was encouraging to see that this process has continued over the phone from our separate households.  We have had numerous phone conversations about routine parenting matters;  it was all fairly cordial and each discussion ended with an agreement about the topic in question..  What a change from a week ago!!
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This weekend, I got in several hours of skiing early in the morning by myself.  The kids had a late night and slept until noon.  Later that afternoon, we did other winter sports. 

Skiing is one of my greatest joys in my life.  Exhilarating, effortless, exciting!!  I completely forget about everything else when I'm zooming down a hill.  In this area, we are blessed with the best skiing anywhere. Here is a sad little ski-cam video I shot with a hand-held digital camera.

Sexy runners' legs

Nothing new to report.  Our phone conversations have been businesslike, if quite cool, centred around parenting issues.  The parenting must continue, even if we live in separate households.  Still, a big improvement from the past weeks.... but the more difficult conversations will have to wait for quite a while yet.

I've just started training for a marathon in October 2011, it may be this one or this one.-- for me, a minimum of seven months is needed for me to finish in a good time and in a good condition.  It is an excellent project for me, fitness-wise.  And, let's face it, I most likely will have the time needed to devote to training properly.  I need the motivating goal of a really big race to put in that amount of training.  

The only 'wild card' in the thing is whether or not my middle-aged knees, hips or ankles can hold up.....I've completed four full marathons in the past 10 years, starting at the age of 35.   Before this, I never ran at all and could only run about 100 yards at a time.  In fact, the first race I ever competed in was a full marathon.  I quickly discovered that I was a fairly good runner, if a bit slow, and really enjoyed it.  I usually finish a full marathon in about 4.0 - 5.0 hours, around the median finisher time for the races I've been in.

Normally during marathons, I end up running with the lumpy, middle-aged crowd far back in the pack. (ie:  people like myself)  Several months ago, some work colleagues and I participated in a charity relay race.  As the race was done on a track, we continuously ran alongside the younger, elite runners. 

I passed the hours by focusing on the endless stream of sexy, muscular legs and hot asses in skimpy shorts every where you looked. Mesmerizing!  Absolutely stunning!!   As a runner in the race, however, you normally don't get a very good view of the jiggling frontage of your fellow runners. Since this was a relay, there was plenty of time to sit on the sidelines and enjoy those views as well.

Running marathons used to remind me of the +3 months of radiation treatments I had as a cancer patient.  With the cancer treatments, although I was in pain , felt like crap and got steadily worse as the time progressed, there was only one way out and that was to move forward, one step at a time.   Now, I can think of another analogy to running a marathon;  my on-going personal drama.   Like a marathon, there is no way that I can go back to the way our lives were.  To remain in place is unacceptable.  The only answer is to keep moving forward, one step at a time.

Note:  none of these pictures of of me, although I look very much like the last runner in the red shirt.  Sadly, I'm sure that I don't fill out my spandex shorts as deliciously as he does.  :>(