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I went from being heartbroken, to just beingplain pissed off. How in the hell did this keep happening to me? I just didn't get it at all. In the span of four years, I'd managed to lose three girlfriends, all of whom cheated on me. Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable.

First there was Karen, who I dated and moved in with after six months. We were great together. She was sweet, funny and faithful--or so I thought she was faithful. Three months after we moved in together, I find out from a co-worker that she's getting banged by half the guys in the city. I was shocked, devastated, and heart broken, then I just got angry. I moved out to my own place two weeks after I learned the truth about her. I just packed my shit up and left, leaving her a note that told her to "rot in hell". I meant every word of that.

Not long after that, I get involved with Marie, who was a little on the rough side as far as her personality went, but I kind of liked that. She actually worked as a customer service representative for a manufacturing company. Pretty bizarre given how abrasive and short tempered she could be most of the time. We'd go out to eat at a nice restaurant and she'd give the nastiest looks to the server if they didn't bring her a refill on her drink in a timely manner. Shit, I wouldn't be surprised if she ended up getting spit in her food from those waitresses because of how she acted. Despite that, there was still something I saw in her; maybe it was how wild she could be in the sack. We even got complaints from the neighbors in the apartment next to us because of her screaming during sex. As good of a lay as she was, in retrospect, I think it was doomed to fail. She broke up with me when she just decided to quit her job one day and move clear across the country. Who the hell does that? Not a sane person, I assure you. I found out later she met some rich guy on line and decided to go after him. Well, good for her. I guess I wasn't good enough.

And then there was Jasmine. She had the sweetest personality of all of the three--the complete opposite of my previous girlfriend. This was also the most serious of all three of my relationships. I never lived with Marie (again, another sign that it was a relationship headed for disaster), but I did have Jasmine move in with me. We got along great. Never argued over who was going to clean the place up, wash dishes, or any of the domestic chores that can cause so much squabbling with other people. We seemed to be made for each other. All of our friends complimented us on how we were "such a cute couple". I never got tired of that, really. She was a professional chef at a gourmet restaurant, so I never had to worry about going hungry with her around. She made the best meals, I mean really well prepared stuff. Two and a half years we were together, everything looking great, perfect, and then it happened. The day I come home with an engagement ring, ready to kneel down and ask for her paw in marriage, I come home to find that everything of hers was moved out of the house. There was a note, telling me she had met someone else. Just my fucking luck. I find the girl of my dreams, only to find out that she's a gold digging whore just like Marie. Boy, I sure could pick them, huh?

I was in a depressed state for almost a month. The first week of that depression, I took a week off work, trying to make sense of everything. I just laid around in bed or on the couch, listening to music or watching TV. I'm glad that I couldn't stand the taste of alcohol, having tried it a few times when I was in high school, otherwise I might have hit the bottle really hard that first week. I knew better than that. Besides, booze wouldn't have undone the damage those three ex-girlfriends of mine had created, and I knew enough drunks to realize that I didn't want to go down that road. Nope, I would just try to deal with this.

The second week was still bad, but I actually managed to get out of the house and go to the gym. I took good care of myself physically, though psychologically I was a mess at the time. The exercise did help with the depression, but it still hurt, thinking about how Jasmine had wasted two and a half years of my life. I didn't push myself like I should have when I was working out, but maybe I wasn't ready for that yet.

The third and fourth weeks were much better. I went to the gym every single day, and actually managed to drive myself hard when lifting the free weights. It was nice to finally get out of the fog that seemed to cover my life. The people that I associated with commented that by the end of the month, I actually was looking like my old self again. By that point, I'd let the housekeeping in my apartment really slide, so I spent an entire Saturday cleaning the place up. It was nice seeing the place in proper order again; maybe a symbol of my life getting back in order, or maybe I was reading too much into that.

By the end of the month, I didn't feel the heartache anymore. I also learned some things about myself. I found that it was kind of nice coming home and not having to worry about anyone but myself. I could come and go as I pleased, didn't have to call or text a girlfriend. I was a completely free to do as I pleased. I didn't have to argue with anyone about where to eat out, what movies to watch, or any of the other petty things that many couples argue about. I was living a solitary, but reasonably happy life.

There was one thing missing in my life. With all three girlfriends I had, I was used to getting sex on a regular basis. Living alone, I wouldn't be able to come home and expect to get any. I wasn't ready to "get back out there" in the dating scene. I wasn't sure if I really even wanted to date at all, at least not for the time being. I'd never been the type to just seek out casual sex, but with the need to release my seed and the desire to be by myself, I guess I was headed that way eventually. I put some NSA ads on Craigslist, only to learn that most of the replies were bots, somebody playing a joke on me, or ads trying to get me to join a "free" dating site. Yeah, it was free until you wanted to respond to someone's profile that you were interested in. Two weeks of that, plus looking like crazy on the weekends, and I called it quits. I ended that journey, knowing that continuing to respond to those ads was simply a fool's errand. That left me no other option than using my paw. I did that plenty as a teenager, but it just wasn't that fulfillingI'd after getting pussy. It was like going back to riding a bike after you'd been driving a car, if that makes any sense. As empty as it felt to jerk off, I still wasn't going to date again. I wasn't going to go out and pick up some bar skank either. Like I mentioned earlier, I hated alcohol and smelling cigarette smoke turned my stomach. I evaluated my options, wondering whatever was I going to do.

Over time, a strange idea came to me. I'd been reading some article about the growing number of males who were casually hooking up with other males for sex. It was an eye opener for sure. There were guys that talked about how they didn't consider themselves attracted to guys at all, but they'd let other males pleasure them simply because they were tired of dealing with the complicated minds of females. I would have added treacherous and conniving to those statements, but the author of the article had not called asking for my opinion. I finished the article, feeling like I had read something that had totally changed my perspective about sexuality. It was way more complex than I realized.

I spent the next week constantly thinking about what I had read in the article, and contemplating my own situation living as a single male. I was no homophobe, but I never had seriously considered being with a guy before. I wasn't opposed to it either, but it . . . I don't know. I was happy sticking my manhood in what a female had between her legs. Still, the thought of actually hooking up with a guy kept gnawing at me. I mean, we're living in 2016, so it's not like anyone was going to come arrest me if I was doing that with a guy. Finally, a week after I first read the article, I put an ad on Craigslist in the "Male Seeking Male" section of the "Casual Encounters". I did some research, and decided to be honest in my posting. I said that I had never been with a guy before, but would consider getting together to see where it went. I waited until Saturday morning to post the ad, as I did not want to be responding back to the replies I received when I was at the office. Oh boy, that would be very awkward if someone came into my office and saw that on the computer or my cell phone.

One of the things that I read in my research was to be careful about people putting fake ads up, and to be careful about giving out your phone number. I had no intention of doing that. That was all I needed was for some asshole to get hold of my number and blow up my phone with texts and calls. So, I laid around the house that day, reading a book on the Kindle app of my iPad as I heard the "Aurora" sound of my email app letting me know when someone was sending me a message. Exiting the Kindle app, I would see replies to my ad, most of them asking me to meet them at a hotel or motel, or asking if I was willing to reciprocate. It pissed me off how many idiots sent me shit like this when I specifically mentioned in the ad that I was not interested in reciprocating and that I wanted to take things slow. I chalked it up to people not bothering to read all of the ad due to their inattention or stupidity, or maybe they were just fucking around with me for their sick amusement. Whatever it was, I wasn't going to waste my time with them.

I staid on the couch until late afternoon, still reading, though I got up to use the bathroom, eat and stretch. It had been over two hours since I'd received my last response when I again heard my email app telling me to check my messages. Looking at a response, I noticed something very different in this one.

"Hey. Cool you're trying this out. I can take things slow if you want."

This was certainly a departure from what I had seen earlier in the day. Most of the time I was being asked if by the responder if they could come over right away and suck me off or get fucked by me. Again, I guess some people were stupid or just being dicks. I decided to respond back to the guy.

"What species are you?" I asked.

"Red fox."

Hmm . . . I never knew an ugly fox, that was for sure. He responded back asking me something that, in retrospect, I should have included in my post.

"What species are you?"

"Gray wolf"

I waited a few more minutes, really wanting to know more about the guy. It was strange, thinking about me actually waiting on a response from my first foray into a gay hookup.

"Could you tell me a little about yourself? I'm 22, 5'10, 180 pounds. I work as a paralegal at a law firm. I love sports, cooking, reading, working out. Laid back and very friendly."

Damn, this was the first response where a guy didn't tell me how big his dick was or ask to see a picture of mine. All of his hobbies were things that I liked as well. I thought of myself as laid back, though I would undoubtedly get incensed when a female cheated on me. There was no denying that.

"I'm 29, 6'4, 240 lbs. I work as a systems analyst. I like all the same things you mentioned too. I'm laid back as well."

I waited. Getting a response.

"Wow. You're pretty tall! You sound like a very likable guy."

We kept responding back and forth, and it amazed me that he never once mentioned sex, other than saying we could take things slow. We talked sports, finding out that we both liked boxing, MMA and UFC the most. It was kind of weird in that the conversation seemed to flow so naturally. There was never any rush to meet right away, no talking about what I was "into" as far as sex. Two hours later, I actually sent him my address. He told me that he would be over in half and hour. I guess he didn't live too far away.

I kept reading my e-book, occasionally looking at the time to see that it wasn't past the time he said he would arrive. I read that was a common problem in meeting people like this. Guys either got cold feet, or were just being disingenuous from the get go. Sure enough, I heard the doorbell ring almost exactly at the time he said he would be there. Getting up, I shambled over to the door, looking through the peephole. There was a fox standing outside fitting the description he'd given me via email. I could feel myself getting jittery, but I played it cool as I opened the door.

"Hi," I said, shaking his paw as he entered my home. "You must be Mickey?"

"I'm Mickey," said the fox, handing me his leather jacket. "And you must be Johnny?"

"I'm Johnny," I said, hanging his jacket up on the hook I had installed next to the door. "Thanks for coming. Can I get you something to drink?"

"Sure," he said, going out to the living room. "Ice water'd be fine."

I got him the ice water he requested, as well as one for myself. Taking them out to the living room. I sat down on my chair opposite Mickey, who was sitting on the couch.

"Thanks," said Mickey, taking a sip. "Thanks for inviting me over."

"Thanks for coming over," I replied. "I'm glad you showed up?"

"Oh? You been stood up before this way?"

"No," I said, shaking my head, "but I've heard stories about those things happening."

"They're true," said Mickey. "You've got a nice place here."

"You wouldn't have said that a couple of months ago," I said, laughing. "I really let the place go to hell after my last girlfriend left me."

"Yeah, you told me about her," said Mickey, taking another sip of his ice water. "Sorry about that."

"I'm fine now," I said, only half believing that. "Been kinda nice being by myself."

"I know what you mean. I just got rid of my room mate. He was a complete slob and a drunk."

"Glad to hear you don't drink," I said. "I hate alcohol."

"Me too," he replied. "It just never had any appeal to me. Besides, I like to stay in shape."

Indeed he did. After he took his jacket off, I got a better look at his physique. He was in excellent shape. Lean, muscular and very striking. I know this sounds awful, but I normally pictured gay guys as being these flamboyant, limp wristed effeminate types. Mickey was nothing like that at all. Just looking at him, I would have guessed that he could get any vixen he wanted if I didn't know he was gay. He definitely shattered my perceptions of homosexual males.

"That guy you wee living with, he was just your room mate?"

"Oh yeah," he said, leaning back on the couch. "There was never anything between us. He used to be a good friend of mine, but things changed. I guess that's life."

There was no bitterness or sorrow in his voice. If anything, he seemed to take his losing a friend in stride. He put his ice water down on the stand next to the couch. I noticed that he was courteous enough to use a coaster. Very nice. It got on my nerves when people failed to do that.

"You . . . you ever had a boyfriend?" I asked, feeling my heart flutter slightly.

"Sure," he said, not bothered at all by the question. "My last one cheated on me. That's the reason I got a room mate." "I'm a veteran of that kind of relationship," I said, feeling the bitter memories of my past girlfriends momentarily resurfacing. "It stinks."

"No doubt about it," said Mickey. "I was shocked to hear that you had three girlfriends cheat on you. Talking to you, I can tell that you deserve better than that."

I was stunned at how calm, cool and laid back Mickey was. He never did anything to annoy me, or make me feel like I had invited the wrong person into my home. Oh, I know, there were stories out there about people meeting other people on Craigslist to buy and sell things, or to hookup, only to have that end in being robbed at gunpoint or being brutally assaulted. If Mickey planned to do either of those things, he sure didn't give off those kind of vibes. He let me steer the conversation in the direction that I wanted. After an hour of talking, I got into the real reason why I had invited him over.

"Mickey," I said, feeling more comfortable about what was going on. "Do you do this thing very often?"

"What? Hookup? No, I usually can't find the right type of guy out there. I'm not just looking for sex, though sex is fun. I have to like the person I'm going to be with."

"Makes sense," I said, nodding in agreement. "You . . . you ever been with a straight guy who was just looking for sex?"

"Sure," he said nonchalantly. "I've had guys tell me they were just looking for sex, nothing more. I understand. Sexuality is way more complex than most beasts realize."

Damn, he'd reached the same conclusion I had after I read that article about straight guys seeking out other males. My guess, Mickey had more first hand experience with this sort of thing--probably could have written that article himself.

"I guess so," I responded. "I've just been so happy living by myself again."

"Same here," he said.

"But at the same time, I'm sick of having to, you know . . . paw off. I'm not hitting the bars, and forget about getting a female on Craigslist. I'm . . ." I couldn't find the words to adequately describe my reasons for trying this out. "I don't know . . . I guess I wanna try another way to have some fun, but I've never really thought about doing something like this before. You get me?"

"Completely," said Mickey. "It's a very different world we're living in than our parents' generation. It's more open, more understanding, but old taboos die hard, and I think you understand that."

"I do," I said, feeling myself suddenly getting horny. "Can . . . can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"Could . . . could we try it out? I mean, I wanna know if this is for me or not, but I don't want this to feel weird, cause I think we could be great friends too."

"Sure," said Mickey, still sitting down. "We don't have to do anything you don't feel comfortable with. Always better when both guys are enjoying themselves."

I got up first, my legs a little on the rubbery side. "You . . . you wanna come back to the bedroom with me?"

"Yeah," he said, getting up. "Lead the way."

We went back to my bedroom. I flicked the light switch on. My heart was still on the fluttery side, but my sexual drive was overpowering my nervousness by this point. I turned the ceiling fan on low. I wasn't sure exactly what to do next, but Mickey remained calm as he waited for my next move. I sat down on the bed, sighing.

"I guess . . . I guess we could start with oral, right?"

"That's usually the best way to go," he said.

Slowly, I unbuckled my belt. I didn't feel like getting undressed--still not sure if I wanted to be naked with another guy yet. I didn't even pull my pants down all the way, just enough that I could pull my cock out. Despite being horny, I was flacid. I took my cock out, rubbing at it. Mickey was standing up, not touching my cock.

"Could you just touch it first?"

He nodded. Getting on his knees, I watched as he put his right paw on my cock. I shivered. This was the first time another male had ever touched me down there. It didn't feel bad at all. My breathing got heavier as he rubbed it to the point that it was semi-hard. I closed my eyes as I whispered.

"Could you lick it a little?"

He didn't say anything--just went right to licking it. Damn, he was skilled with that vulpine tongue of his! I kept my eyes closed as he licked the head down to the base, occasionally he'd swirl his tongue around the head of my dick. It felt great. Every once and awhile, I'd open my eyes, seeing the fox licking my cock. It was so . . . surreal is the word I'd guess I would use to describe it. Several minutes passed before I was ready for the next step.

"Could . . . could you suck it?" I asked, whispering.

He obliged my request, taking my cock into his maw, in fact, taking all of it into his maw. I don't want to brag, but I'm pretty big, so I was amazed at how seamlessly, effortlessly he went about it, never once gagging or coughing on my big guy. It was so amazing how he was easing me into this. He didn't make a move unless I asked him to. He was right when he said we could take things slow.

After a minute or two of being sucked on, I asked him to stop. He looked up at me, not puzzled, or angry, but very calmly as I stood up to pull my pants completely off. Instead of sitting back down, I laid down on my back, resting my head on the pillows. He went back at it. I put my arms behind my head as he sucked away. I was so relaxed, so at ease with everything we were doing. Strange that only a month ago, hell, even a week ago, I would have never guessed that I would be letting a guy touch me like this. I was so into it, I decided to take it a step further again.

"Hey," I said. "Could you do me a favor?"

He stopped sucking. "Whadda ya need?"

I stood back up, pulling my shirt off. "Could you take your clothes off too?"

He grinned like only a fox can. "Sure."

I smiled as I laid back down on the bed. Both of us now naked, I watched him go down on me. I felt the slight breeze of the ceiling fan against my fur. Here I was, naked, with another naked guy, getting my cock sucked. It was just wonderful. Eventually, I felt so comfortable that I let my paws explore Mickey's body. He never once objected or even acted like I was doing anything wrong. I let my paws go all the way down to his mid section, feeling his bushy, reddish brown tail, letting myself stroke it all the way to the white tip before going back and feeling his butt. Shit, he sure had such a cute, tight butt! I alternated between closing my eyes, getting lost in sexual bliss, and opening my eyes to see the fox work on my dick. I had my share of girls go down on me, but none ever did as good of a job as Mickey was doing right now. I guess it was true what I had heard about guys giving better head than girls.

I held back as long as I could, not wanting it to end, but he was just too good. Closing my eyes, gritting my teeth, I moaned as I came in his mouth. I slurped down my load, but he stopped sucking when he could tell that his post orgasmic sucking was tickling me. I exhaled deeply as I basked in the afterglow of the best fucking blow job I'd ever gotten. I was worried that I would want him to leave when it was over, but I didn't feel that way after all.

"Hey," I said. "You wanna come up here and lay down beside me."

"Alright," he said, getting up and laying down beside me. I looked over at him, smiling.

"That was . . . amazing," I said. "Thanks."

"Glad you liked it," he said.

Maybe with another guy I would have been worried about being asked to return the favor, but Mickey just laid there, rubbing his own hard cock as we kept talking. I mean, I never once felt awkward, even though I was naked with another guy. It all felt so natural.

"You wanna make this a regular thing?" I asked.

"I'd like that," he said, smiling. "I like being with you, Johnny."

I smiled back at him. Looks like I was beginning a beautiful friendship.