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My name is George Wilson. In the last several months, I have experienced several life-changes that have left me questioning many, many things. I was ten years past the end of a successful career in professional football, and now that the bright lights and sports reporters were gone, I felt as if there was some type of void in my life. When my wife ran away with a man twenty years her junior, I knew I needed a few days to get away to just clear my head and relax. Because I had always liked the west, I chose to spend four days in Denver, a town with great restaurants, shopping, and museums. It was also a place where I still had friends. So, packing my bags and taking the first flight to the Mile High City seemed like a perfectly logical way to get away and leave my troubles behind for a few days.

But something happened in Denver that revealed things about me which I did not know. Jason, the young twenty-something proprietor of the bed and breakfast where I was staying, unexpectedly walked in on me while I was relaxing in the bathtub. Well, I wasn't exactly relaxing: I was stroking my cock and fantasizing about what it was like to fuck another man. I had this fantasy in my mind after accidently walking in on Jason while he was kissing Lane, his homosexual lover. This was the first time I had ever seen two men kissing, and while I had never taken part in a man-to-man relationship before, for some reason, seeing the two young men locked in an embrace stimulated me. I returned to my room and for the next several hours, fantasized about fucking another man. The next morning, after going on a short, five mile run, I decided to relax ...

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