Coming Out
Chapter 1

Caution: This Drama Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Ma/Ma, Mult, Consensual, BiSexual, Heterosexual, Cheating, Sharing, Incest, Son, Brother, Sister, Father, DomSub, MaleDom, Spanking, Group Sex, Harem, Orgy, Polygamy/Polyamory, Analingus, Exhibitionism, Oral Sex, Petting, Voyeurism,

Desc: Drama Sex Story: Chapter 1 - David Morgan thought that he had a great family life, including a wife of twenty years and two wonderful children. Then came the day that his teenage son Curtis came out of the closet and all hell broke loose.

“Mom, Dad, Stephanie ... I called you in here to inform you of something. Please ... try to understand this, okay? It’s not easy. Trust me, I have struggled over how to tell you this. Just please ... listen to me. Guys ... I’m bisexual. There. I said it. I’m bisexual. I’m attracted to both men and women. Well ... what do you think? I’ve really had to work up my courage to say that, of course. But that’s the honest truth,” my teenage son Curtis informed us all, clearly awaiting with some anxiety our response.

“Well, bisexual, I’m Dad. Nice to meet you,” I joked, trying to ease the tensions and break the ice.

It worked with Stephanie, my teenage daughter, Curtis’s fraternal twin. She burst out into laughter herself, feeling real relief at the idea that Daddy really was the kind of man who could handle these situations in such a manner. Steph reached out and hugged both of us, having apparently suspected things already of that nature, so being quite overcome with emotion as she heard my response. As for Curtis, I reached out and hugged him, telling him by my actions that he was still my son, whatever his orientation.

That was when we noticed that my wife wasn’t quite so ready to cope with things the same way. She had a very intense frown and scowl on her face and she stood up to slap me clear across the face. I didn’t see that coming, and in fact, I had no idea of why she would do that. She didn’t take long to make that apparent to me. I was evidently to “blame” for my son turning out other than straight. My wife of twenty years, whom I honestly thought that I knew and who I thought had evolved beyond the values of our parents, was definitely not on board with us at all.

“Get out! Get out of my house! I will not have you around here! You’re not my son, you disgusting sodomite! You filthy pervert! And you, spiritual head of the household, what do you have to say for yourself? Remember our wedding vows? You promised to lead a Christian household. Instead, you’ve turned our son into a sick, twisted heathen and our daughter into the kind of slut that probably thinks that it’s cute or hot that her brother likes to suck dicks! You’re to blame for this! It’s all your fault that he’s going to Hell! Well, all of you can burn in Hell together, but I’m done with you! Out!” Tracy told me as she threw her wedding band down at my feet.

“Tracy, really, is that necessary? He’s our son! I love him! Stephanie loves him. You love him. Look inside yourself, honey. You know that you didn’t mean that. I don’t know what the matter is with you, but he’s our son and I love him! This is not Christian of you, don’t you know that? What’s not Christ-like? Accepting and loving unconditionally or judging and rejecting family because they don’t conform to some kind of taboo?” I tried to reason with her, having of late started to rethink the teachings of my past.

“Oh, my God, you’ve actually fallen for that bullshit, haven’t you? Well, I haven’t! I am done with you! I want a divorce! Get out of my house now!” Tracy demanded now.

“A divorce isn’t very Christian, either, missy. What kind of example are you showing our children? And this isn’t just your house! It’s our home. One that I paid for and we built together! See how long you keep it if you keep treating our children like crap! Do you actually think that you’ll get custody? Child support? Just try me! I’m giving you one more chance to come around. If you don’t, that’s on you and I’ll be very disappointed in you, but here’s your chance to change your mind,” I started to tell Tracy, but she now threw a vase at me and it shattered into pieces.

“For the last time, mister, this is your last chance! I’m your wife! Choose! Me or the two perverts here!” my wife continued to behave very much unlike her old self, at least that I had seen and known her for most of our marriage...

This was a very ugly side of her bubbling to the surface, and in spite of my expectations, I completely fell out of love with her. Rather, I didn’t love this version of Tracy.

“Then I choose the kids. You’re not the woman that I married. That woman would have put her arms around our children and treated them with love and respect. What the hell has gotten into you? I’m hurt that you’re behaving like this, but so be it,” I told her as I went to the bedroom to gather some things.

“If you walk out that door with those deviants, never come back! I’m so done with you! I guess that I’ll spend Easter with my folks, then! Hell will freeze over before I let you back into my bed!” Tracy tried threats, “and they’re not my children. They’re all yours. They didn’t get that sinfulness from me!”

My children were as devastated as I was, so they walked with real sadness to their bedrooms to get their things for now, as we all, almost telepathically agreed to come back later and challenge Tracy over the house at that point. There was something dramatically wrong with my wife and I had no idea what, but I wasn’t going to put up with that kind of disrespect. Little did I know what a mess was sure to follow and how radically my life would change from there. I should have guessed some of it, but some was so extreme that it would only come from the pen of a porn writer, that much was sure ... and yet, it happened to me.

For one last gesture, though, I hurled my own wedding band through the open door and scoffed as it broken of her favorite china sets ... shattered forever and irreplaceable, just like our home, our family, and our marriage. How fitting, I thought, as I listened to my wife scream her outrage and try to chase me with an iron skillet ... I would miss her, well, the usual her, but I wouldn’t miss this. Whatever was wrong with her ... I was about to find out.

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