Now, nearly 15 years, a few boyfriends and two husbands later, I’m on holiday in Asia and I’ve chosen to travel by train for practicality and sigh...seeing reasons.It’s late evening, the lights are dimmed and the passenger car is almost empty. I look at my husband sitting opposite to me, a large, ugly, seafoam green table between us. He is reading something on his phone with an amused look on his face. His two days scruff and the old, slightly faded ‘Save the ocean’ t-shirt with the whale logo –. We went to the bedroom and I started to undress. I stripped down and pulled the sheets back, climbed in bed and went to sleep. I woke up with Roberts hand on my dick. Instinctively I grabbed his hand and started to get out of bed. My head still foggy between sleep and alcohol, I looked around thinking where am I."Relax, it's okay" Robert said. Remembering I was at his house, and in his bed I relaxed a bit. (Not the first time a man had my dick in his hand, or my hand on his) I laid back down. More

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