Before my 45th birthday, my wife of nearly 20 years asked me what I wanted. We were driving at the time, so I didn’t have to make eye contact with her. After some back and forth and some cajoling, I finally admitted I wanted to be with a man, to have that experience. She was understanding and maybe even a little aroused to know that my laces maybe weren’t as straight as she thought.
The drive was a long one and after leaving the subject, she came back to it, to see if she could figure out my “type.” Again, I was grateful to not have to make too much eye contact, but I was enjoying being honest about this. I did have a type, even a specific man in mind, and as I gradually painted the picture for her, my cock stiffened in my pants. This was turning me on in a huge way.
I’m 6′, 175 lbs and athletic. 7″ circumcised cock. I work out daily. My type, though, was somewhat different. As eliptically as I could, I described one of my wife’s coworkers, Tony: 35 YO, 5’7″, rolly-polly, Hawaiian-Filipino, gay man.