"Babe, I'm not going to pretend that I don't know what you're talking about," I said in a controlled monotone. "I'm guessing you came across some pret...ty revealing photos on my laptop."With tears welling in her eyes, she blurted out "Are you gay?" No baby, I'm not gay but I am bisexual," I admitted frankly. "While I was going through my divorce and before we got together, I explored a long-suppressed desire to experience sex with other men."I could see in her eyes that she was only. I had slept with this woman and hadn't even had sex yet. It didn't take long to change that. I reached over and fondled one of those big knockers, I found the other one with no problem. Nobody had to tell her what to do. She leaned up in bed and pulled that t-shirt I loaned her off and threw it on the floor. Her panties soon followed. We rolled up together and made love like newlyweds. She was an enthusiastic lover and a good kisser. One little tug on her arm and she rolled over on top. "When I was, like, thirteen, I used to whack off all the time. I mean anywhere! My room, bathroom, school bathroom, heck - one time, I did it in a department store dressing room! If I had five minutes and no one was watching? Bam!" We all gotta have a hobby." I chuckled."Yeah!" He agreed. "So this one time, I was whacking off in my room only I forgot to close the door all the way so my older brother caught me and started giving me grief about being so fast. How girls don't like 'minute men' and. As the energy flowed between us, I pulled us out of time. Understandably, she was confused. Part of my game is to act just as confused. She felt we were both in the middle of something that we didn’t understand. As far as she knew, neither of us had any control over the situation. She looked all around at the fans frozen in mid-cheer, at the players in mid-stride, and then at me. Her fear evaporated and she clapped like a little girl shown a brightly wrapped present. I had chosen right. She.