We had a nice five or six days together at my cabin, which really solidified where we were, and where we were heading. During the day we'd do some work outside, and then go inside and work out again. Nice naps together too. Great nights sleeping in the same bed, waking each other up for love, and then going back to sleep together, sticky and satisfied.

On the way home, I again broached the subject of telling my wife what was going on. I tried to tell Paul that it was bothering me to be keeping this from her when I knew that she'd be okay with it. It was bothering me a lot. We'd never had any secrets, why start now? If she found out on her own, and she's an intuitive woman, she'd be sure to be more pissed off that I didn't tell her about what I was doing, than about what I was doing.

Very reluctantly, Paul said finally that if it was what I had to do, it had to be done. He said he felt like he was standing at the edge of a cliff though, and that the next step could spell disaster for a lot of people--his kids, my kids, our marriages. So, even though he did basically give me permission to talk to Chris, he also made it clear that he would rather that conversation never take place at all.

It was tough. I really didn't know what to do. In the end though, I had a lot of trust in my wife, and what we had established in our relationship with one another. Finally, that history had to take precedence over Paul's unsureness, insecurity, fear. I understood his position, but at the bottom of it all I knew that Chris would never do anything to 'out' Paul and me.

So I told Chris the whole story. Laying in bed that night I spilled everything, from the trip out West to the hunting trip North. It was a bit more tense for me than I had expected, because at the end of the day, I was telling her I was having an affair; so there was a twinge of danger in my heart and head, a moment or two where I felt a lot like Paul had described...standing at the edge. That image struck home for me.

But Chris didn't let me down. I could see she was really able to be happy for me, while at the same time, there was obviously a bit of sadness too. We spent a lot of that night awake and talking, and I won't deny that we made love too, after a fashion. It wasn't like the old days, and the act itself was still full of tenderness, though there was also a sort of 'goodbye' feeling to it. She wanted me inside her, even though in reality it was somewhat painful for her, and I wanted to be in her, though I knew she was not feeling it the way we both once had. It was a necessary step, it seemed, an aknowlegement that we were still lovers, but that it would have to be in a new, different way. There was a bittersweet flavor to it, that was satisfying in its own way, but tinged with a certain sadness. It was an ending, and we both knew it.

I had told Chris about Paul's deal at home, and how he was feeling about me bringing Chris into the secret too, how conflicted he was, and how scared he was. Her response?

"Paul and I need to talk. And you too. You have to get him over here for lunch or dinner, or something, and let me help out."

A few days later we did just that. Chris and I kind of ambushed the poor guy, got him over to the house under false pretenses, and had a long talk with him. I had actually told him that I hadn't talked to Chris yet, so he was surprised, and then really surprised when Chris hugged him and told him it was okay, that she knew everything and that it was okay.

We sat around the kitchen table while Chris told him what was what. She told Paul that she was glad I had him in my life, and that the gay part of it was not an issue with her at all. In fact, she said, it might just make the whole thing easier for her. She said that she loved me, and wanted me to be happy, and knew that if I had gone out and found a lover, a woman, it might have been an awful lot harder for her than she knew. Our marriage might have foundered, and she really did not want that to happen, and yet she felt lousy about not being the 'good wife' that she had been. Man, let me tell you this was a hard conversation, and there were tears in all our eyes. If I could only really put you in the room with us there, you'd know what an amazing wife I really have, because she touched on all the bases. She knew how I was feeling, how Paul was feeling; she knew there was guilt and remorse, and fear in the mix, and she was like the grand facilitator, the psychologist, the mother figure, who tied the whole package together, and brought us all to a place where we could talk, and keep talking, and talk about the hard stuff.

She explained how conflicted she'd felt when she had given me permission and encouraagement to shop around; she focused right in on the difficulty of giving away something that is precious to you, because you love it so much. And, she made us face our fears of losing something that we didn't want to lose. Does any of this make sense? It does to me, 'cause I lived through it, and I know Paul walked out of our house later that day shaking his head at what an amazing thing had just occurred, what an amazing person Chris is.

It was a long while that we talked, but the last thing she did was maybe the most amazing. She suddenly got up, kissed us both on the mouth, and Paul got the full deep treatment, and then she said, "I have to go get some errands do boys. I'll be back late. Don't expect me before the stores close."

Before either of us could respond, she was out the door and gone, obviously leaving us to be alone together with her full blessing. We sat there stunned for a few minutes, talking about what had just occurred. Finally I said that it didn't make sense to sit at that damn kitchen table any longer. I wanted to be in bed with my man. And that's where we went. Chris and I already had seperate bedrooms, because sometimes I can snore really bad, and since retiring, my hours were not driven by a clock, like hers were. So, she slept upstairs, and I had a room downstairs, where I now led Paul for the first time with both of us really relaxed, free from worry and guilt, and ready to take our time and make love.

I stood him in front of my bed and kissed him while I slowly unbuttoned every one of the buttons on his shirt. He tried to reach for mine, but I decided to be the one in charge today--hey, it was my house--so I stopped his hand. I got to my knees in front of him and slowly unzipped his pants, and then unbuttoned them. He had a nice lump going there, which I ignored for the time being, and slid my fingers up, under his t-shirt to his nipples.

I pinched them then, ever so slightly, as I kissed his hard cock through the pants. Still pinching, I pulled his pants open using my teeth, then taking my hands briefly off of his hard nipples, brought his hard cock out into the air momentarily before swallowing it whole. Back went my hands to his tits. By this time, I had changed my mind about who was in charge; I think I wanted to send Paul a message--a message which said, "I belong to you," and unconsciously I guess I wanted to serve him, to be his 'boy.' I had never thought in these terms--it's all in retrospect that I put this together, but I wanted to give myself over to him in that moment, and subordinate myself to him.

At the same time, I squeezed his nipples harder than I ever had--I know it would have hurt if they were my own, but his moans told me that it was not pain that he was feeling. Sucking his cock, bobbing my head up and down, feeling his bushy forest on my cheeks, while I pinched his furry tits, my sense of who was subordinate to whom was flip-flopping. I was in total command of his pleasure...so I was in charge here...no...I was on my knees in front of him, he had his dick in my face...he was in charge...no...who was in charge?

I reached away from his tits and pulled his pants down, determined not to let that cock out of my mouth at all until I'd tasted the jism I knew he was holding. Paul stepped out of his pants and underwear and I let my hands roam up and down his furry manly legs, caressing his sack here, pinching a nipple there, rubbing his hairy belly and chest. Again and again he tried to reach for my chin to pull me up and kiss me but I wouldn't let my lips leave that stiff cock. Finally I had to fumble for my own pants and let my own cock loose--it was scrunched up while hard, and nearly tying itself in a knot. I kept pumping away at his cock, but finally Paul pulled his cock away and said, "Come on, give me a chance."

I stood up and kissed him on the mouth, but then went immediately to sucking on his tit as hard as I could, pinching the other, and stroking his cock with my hands. He pulled his t-shirt off and was nude in front of me now--a nice chunk of hairy man. Paul is built like a rock--sturdy hard, hairy and muscled--with a nice round hairy tummy. I am one lucky bear, to have another bear like him to call my own.

He pulled my face into his hairy chest and sat on the edge of the bed, inviting me to swallow his cock whole again. Paul lay back and put his heels on the edge of the bed, so I sucked that cock and slid a wet finger ever so slightly into his ass. By this time he was ready to come, but I wanted to hold it off a bit. I stopped long enough to step back and slowly undress in front of him. I stepped out of my jeans, out of my underwear. I took off my shirt. I lifted my t-shirt off and stood between his legs, my cock in front of me and my hairy belly bumping against the tip. Paul sat up and grabbed my cock and went to work on it. He squeezed the shaft hard--not too hard, but hard, while he nibbled at the very tip of my stiff cock. He stroked my balls and suddenly slammed the whole cock deep into his throat. He pounded his face into the bush in my crotch again and again with one hand on his own cock, and the other squeezing my balls. I saw thick threads of precum dripping down the hair on his chin, and now and again he'd rub that chin hair on my cock tip and send me into near convulsions.

I pushed him back down and lay on top of him, pushing my hard cock into his belly as we kissed. Look, I could go on here, piling up the details, but the main thing I remember about this day is that we had nothing hanging over our heads. We made love for a long time like two very hungry men. I know that I finally came all over Paul's face as he lay on his back licking my balls and jacking me. I swallowed a huge load of his come myself--I'm not one to waste that good stuff on my face--and we lay together for another hour just locked in each other's loving arms.