It was one of those charmed Indian summer mornings on the mid coast of Maine. The early fall chill of night had lightly frosted the colorfully changing leaves of the village; the smoke of the first wood stove fires of the season was rising from the dozens of chimneys visible from my window. As the sun rose, its warm golden rays turned roof frost on the house tops in the village to change from frosty white to wet blackness. The melting frost rose as wispy steam in the cold air. I watched in fascination as the warm breath of the sun floating over the icy landscape caused the world outside my window to warm and welcome the day. I was feeling deep melancholy; the sun was unable to melt the chill I felt in my heart.

As the sun’s rays warmed the rime coated maple leaves inches from my window panes the leaves wept tears of joy, rejoicing in the momentary but much appreciated return of warmth. Soon we would succumb to the bite of fall hoar frost; then would come winter with months of bone chilling cold and snow. Spring seemed to be an eternity away. The anxious tears of angst for fleeting summer fell from leaf to leaf and ultimately on my windowsill.

I lay there in my bed day dreaming and staring out the window at the thawing – dripping world; the clear rivulets running down the window emulated the rivulets of warm clear sap that drooled from the pink slit at the tip of my erect penis. My cock was rock hard, not unusual for the morning but this was different. It wept in the aftermath of a blistering Aneros session just a few hours earlier at my prime hour for intense MMO’s. The extended hard prostate orgasms left my cock aching in erotic desperation. However more and more now my member was steeled in hard arousal multiple times during the day beyond morning as a result of my prostates awakening..

Relentless desperate arousal was a new state of affairs for me in the early stages of Aneros rewiring. Aneros had linked my prostate to my penis; in concert they reinvigorated my libido. In erection my cock and prostate were still vibrating in post MMO arousal. My desire that had been dulled for years and was now awakened by the chains of super o’s I wallowed in almost every night. My sex drive was blossoming as if I was a teenager, it was unfolding and evolving; the state of my sexual condition was both daunting and intriguing.

The peaceful and calm tap – tap of the transformed ice on my window was both soothing and annoying. While it’s rhythm was calming, it’s insistence impatiently urged me to get up. The melting frost on my bedroom window was being drawn away as if it was a curtain being opened to my eyes to see the world outside as it was changing. With the suns increased azimuth it’s golden rays gained greater advantage to see me, penetrating the window and relentlessly seeking me out. The world was awakening and it wanted me to join in.

As the golden light invaded the quiet world in my bedroom and ultimately my consciousness, it drew me from the privately serene world of hazy sensual relaxation and the surreal escape of sleep to face my life as it was. I looked at the empty other half of the bed next to me; there was no one there. Even after the last three months of the separation I had never gotten used to sleeping alone. Indeed if the bed was not empty I might have awakened with a delicate feminine hand soothing my turgid penis and maybe even coaxing it to regurgitate a steaming stream of my liquid sexual desperation onto my belly. The void of soft femininity against my skin in the bed was equaled by the emptiness I felt inside. Not only was my life void of my feminine life partner but the bedroom and the house itself was empty and unfamiliar; this was not my old familiar rambling house, it was a new compact place that reflected my new life alone. Maybe it was just because of the solitude. Maybe it was the thought that I could be laying intimately with a woman in the morning but I was not. Maybe it was the heavy erection in my groin that was whining with the ache arousal. My rigid penis was wetted in its hunger for tender intimacy .

I missed that familiar warm sexy eroticism of the warm soft skin of a woman’s nude body pressing against my own nude body under the covers snug in our bed. Lying there alone in the bed with an aching erection was a state of mind that was difficult to ignore. In my woman – less bed with my lusty rewired mind I wondered what it might be like to be laying there with a nude man next to me instead of a woman. I wondered what it might be like to feel his erection touching mine, oozing our shared passion and mingling it. That lewd fantasy caused a sensation of awkward embarrassment to grip my mind as it made my erect cock twitch. These seemingly incongruous fantasies were happening more and more often lately and they were making me feel increasingly off balance.

My cock hardening bisexual fantasies were exacerbated by my real life. It is hard for a sensual man to live in a college town, especially in late spring and early fall. With the warm weather the college girls shed their wooly and flannelly husks to reveal their hard nippled full breasted nubile bodies for middle aged men like me to ogle with longing arousal. Watching their bodies sheathed in skin tight garments, I undressed them in my mind.

In spring in particular, emergence from cold frigid winter encouraged these sexy full breasted 19 year olds to saunter around the campus and the village flaunting their sexuality for all to see. In unabashed celebration of warm weather and their warmer sexuality they seemingly begged men to stare at their ripe vulvas by wearing skin tight leggings that revealed their cunt lips, vaginal creases and folds with fabric so sheer and tight that it offered a clear outline of every cunt hair of their Mons. Innocently and unashamedly their lush ripe bodies seemed to be begging to be inseminated, impregnated with the semen of men like me. They knew that they were safe teasing me with their sexuality. I could see it in their taunting smiles when we would pass in the campus; I would be unable to resist staring at their puffy young cunts as they watched my gaze that was riveted to their crotches. These nubile vixens carried an air of smug assurance that I would not touch them. The steaming hot semen welled in my balls from a day walking in the village making them hang heavy in my pants. It seemed during these two sensual seasons I was always walking around with a stone hard dripping erection and briefs wetted with my precum.

It was as if I was drifting without a tether to sexual reality and who I was. My sexuality was raging, running so fast it threatened to derail me. This free floating mindset of mine was unsettling to my traditional conservative Yankee mindset.

The free floating nature of my sexuality was akin to the thawing outside my window. It was as if the warmth of sexuality had melted the chains that froze me into my former rigid self identity . Like the water running down my windows I was fluid, being pulled by the force of my own sexual gravity to a pit of unknown erotic desire. I was scared.

Lying in my bed I fought the angst that surrounded me and tried to savor being enshrouded in the lazy pleasant melancholy of post sleep. I enjoyed the beguiling eroticism of the warm bed as it caressed my naked body; the sensation of the covers on the taut skin of my erection and the silky softness of the sheets laying on and teasing my erected nipples stirred my decadently erotic mind. Ever since the separation I cast off pajamas and began to sleep in the nude. The act of sleeping nude often inspired steamy erotic dreams and always found me awakening in turgid arousal.

Savoring my sensual self and relishing arousal was a new and exciting part of me. Yet despite everything else that had changed in my life there were still some constants; the erotically sweet ache of early morning erections was one of those constants. Despite other things that were happening to my sexual response I could always count on morning arousal to saturate me every morning. The combination of sensual softness of my thoughts and the arousing environment enticed my already rigid penis to stiffen to stone like hardness and throb with familiarly welcomed heaviness. I relished the sweet erotic tension that tugs wickedly at my aroused maleness while the quiet weight of unyielding relaxation coaxes me to remain still in bed.
The sensuality of the moment cast my imagination to fantasize that a woman was caressing me; the fantasy caused my rigid penis to twitch in a spasm of aroused interest and raise slightly in the air. I imagined my cock wailing its plight to her as a long string of precum tears dribbled from its little pink opening. The sweet anguish of my arousal made me recall pleasantly intimate memories of Marie in my bed caressing my shaft, kissing my wetted slit and licking my swollen sulcus. She loved to noisily sip the sweet reward of my passion from my little opening. Her ministration would make the sap of my lust run fast, warm and sweet. The sap of my arousal would drip from the tip of my erect penis as if it was a spile in a maple trunk yielding a sweet reward to the erotic warmth that caressed it.

Her flitting ministration would set the stage for her hummingbird tongue to gather my nectar and with more effort my semen. I sighed. Some things just can’t remain the same. My life has been that way lately, everything seemed to be changing around me and changing fast in ways that I struggled to comprehend. It was sometimes hard to grasp the change; more than the change around me though the hardest thing to cope with was the change within me.

I missed Marie, and our intimate cuddling in the morning, especially in the fall and winter when my work life slowed down a lot. I was not the one to leave, it was her decision and that decision left hollowness in me. I missed the chance that early morning offered to caress each other and enjoy the warm closeness of her soft femininity and the teasing suckle on my erected nipple that conveyed a promise of imminent intimacy. So much has changed in my life this last year, Marie’s decision to leave me was an emotional earthquake though; I never saw it coming. I really still had not recovered from the unforeseen shock that that brought.

Any other man might have seen it coming but I was too comfortable and complacent to be wary. As a teacher she often time had to go to conferences and professional development days in Augusta and Portland. It was a summer institute in Portland one July that was the undoing of our marriage. While she was at the weeklong seminar / session she met a very young guy who was not that much older than our oldest son. She was smitten and he had a penchant for older women. From what I could gather they spent a lot of time together in the first days of the conference and in the last days they spent many nights too. They even extended the stay to the weekend spending two days alone in the hotel during which I suspect they never got out of the room. The image of her laying with another man angered me, distressed me yet it aroused me in equal measure. Human sexual response is a complicated thing.

The months after that weekend Marie began to spend more and more weekends away alone, and I still didn’t suspect. She would tell me it was social time girlfriends but I know now that it was for sex with him. After the first of the year she decided to leave me to continue her relationship with him. The weekend she told me was the most awful two days of my life. She wound up leaving the Saturday she told me, coming back sporadically to sort through our belongings and figure out what she needed.