Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: 28 June 22

I never struggled with my sexuality.

It took me a whole decade before I “got around” to asking myself if I was really gay and without immediately realizing that I’d been proving to myself that I wasn’t all along, but I would come to think that this question comes up almost as a matter of course when one gets to questioning themselves in these things.

I had more things to be worried about, like being 4′ 11″ when other guys were growing tall like weeds; I was soft-spoken and “too smart” for a lot of my peers who’d tease me about being “all proper and shit.” My mom had kicked my dad out because she couldn’t take any more of his shit and that shook me and my siblings up in ways that made my sexuality look like a non-issue. I had the “usual” bully problems, but they were temporary since bullies didn’t like victims who fought back.

Of course, I literally grew up hearing all the fucked-up shit people were saying about “those damned homos” and, well, that was fucked up because my sexuality was teaching me that there wasn’t really anything wrong with being homosexual but everyone thought otherwise and one always had to be on guard because, well, human children can be some of the most vicious critters and especially those whose parents were teaching them how and who to hate. Indeed, I had more problems being Black than anything else and those problems, again, made my burgeoning sexuality a non-issue.

If there was something I thought a lot about, it was whether or not I was doing the right things for myself when it came to having sex. That I was learning some hard lessons was… part of the growing process and while some of them were like swallowing bitter medicine, I was seriously learning how to learn from my mistakes and innately understanding that it’s not that I’m not going to make mistakes but putting forth the effort to not make a lot of them and definitely not to make the mistakes I’d seen and heard others making.

Otherwise, I was quite fine growing up as a male bisexual. My sexual behavior quickly became second nature to me and not something I really had to think about other than doing my best not to have sex with the “wrong” person and regardless to them being male or female… but that, too, was part of the growing process. I could see how a lot of kids/teens struggled with sexuality and, of course, especially those who were homosexual; it’s a bitch living in a world and being something that is hated and despised and, worse, not really understood. My heart would go out to those gay kids because their struggle was very damned real but I’d gone about being bisexual with “relative ease” because I knew I wasn’t homosexual so, in a way, I didn’t have anything to worry about and, yeah, I’d learned how to defend myself with both my hands and my words and those who might want to question my sexuality and make a big deal out of it quickly learned that, yeah, I was one of those quiet motherfuckers you did not ever want to mess with.

That didn’t mean that I’d come into contact with other guys who were struggling with their sexuality. The overall fear of being really gay and being surrounded by people who they were sure wouldn’t accept the fact that when it came to having sex – and even being really close enough to a guy for sex to happen – it wasn’t really that big of a deal.

The question I had to answer for myself was… why wasn’t I struggling with this like so many others were? Like everyone else was, I was also surrounded by a lot of people who wouldn’t understand this and as I had come to understand it. I was understanding that having sex with someone was a social skill that we were all expected to learn and a skill that wasn’t relegated to girls only… since boys having sex with each other seemed to be more normal than it was being said to be. What made all of this hard for me and my peers was that this aspect of growing up wasn’t talked about in positive terms; we’d be told more about what not to do and who not to do it with than we were anything else.

I’d grow up into adulthood and liken this to someone telling me to take a car’s engine apart… with only a flat-head screwdriver. In this analogy, if you were to try this, you’ve failed before you try getting the first part off and you can get well into trying to do this before realizing that it cannot be done because you need more tools in your toolbox to get the job done… while also learning a whole lot more about car engines and, indeed, the tools themselves.

So I – and so many of my peers – learned how to “take the engine apart” together. On the job training and a lot of trial and error involved. Toss in the hatred toward homosexuality and, yeah, that made learning even harder and while all of this tended to bother a lot of my peers, it didn’t bother me all that much… and I didn’t know why. If I really struggled with anything, it was trying to find the answer to this particular thing but it was more of an… intellectual exercise than it was something that well and truly bothered me.

I very much hated not knowing something. I’d ask those who were more experienced in these things, and I’d get a lot of answers that, one day, I would boil down to the “fact” that some people are just… naturals at this. It was… easier to have sex with a guy than it was with a girl, and I was beginning to see how similar it all was but, yeah, having that Sword of Damocles that was homosexuality hanging precariously over everyone’s head was giving a lot of people – guys and gals – a complex trying to resolve what was going on with them in this.

I just had to accept that I just didn’t have a reason to keep kicking my own ass about it. Hah – maybe I was too smart for my own good. I’d grow up even more and see this one: If you can keep your head while everyone else is losing theirs, you don’t understand the problem. I had to ask myself if my lack of the struggle I’d seen in so many was because I didn’t understand the problem. After thinking about this for a few days, I realized that I did know what the problem was – and I wasn’t all that affected by it and, of course, the problem was what everyone else thought about homosexuality.

More “concerns” about whether being this way was still a good thing for me than anything else. I did go through that crisis of faith that I’d see a lot of people going through. Religion said one thing; it was forbidden and evil and a sin that would see you going to hell because if you did this, God would strike you down with a thunderbolt from heaven. And “resolved” it early on because I’d been well into having sex with guys… and no thunderbolts. I’d grow up to understand how this fear was used to control our more… baser instincts like that need to have sex and, later on, the whole baby-making thing and that if you weren’t having sex for the purpose of making babies, you were just wrong and a different kind of sinner.

People would ask me why I seemed to not be bothered with being bisexual and the only answer I could give was, “I’m just not bothered by it.” Much later, I would kinda understand why I didn’t struggle with this and like a lot of people were: I knew and accepted the truth so whatever anyone else was saying about it was… bullshit. Incorrect. Not really a lie unless you consider that lie of omission thing. I had seen that it wasn’t what everyone was saying about this – it was what they weren’t saying; it was what was being hidden from us all but so many of us had uncovered what wasn’t being said.

Guys having sex with each other is just human nature. I was a “child of science” more than a believer in religion and probably intuitively understood that if you know a thing, you can’t fear it all that much… and religion was very much into scaring people into complying with its edicts. Do as I say… or die horribly and burn in hell for all of eternity. And I wasn’t buying it and “reasoned” that it must be okay for me to be this way because there were a whole lot of guys and gals who were just like me so one of these things has to be wrong and, well, for me, it was “easy” to see which thing was wrong.

The Question I found myself asking not minutes after being introduced to sex with a guy: How can something everyone says is so bad feel so good? And learning that it feels good because it’s supposed to feel good and making that connection when overhearing adults talking about how good it was to have sex. My young mind would grasp that if getting laid was a good thing, well, I get laid being a guy and with a girl so it must be a good thing, right?

Yeah, not always but, again, that was some shit you just wound up learning along the way but for the most part? Yeah – sex is not only good but damned good… so why all this crap about having it with other guys? Learning the difference between “not supposed to” and “can’t.” It obviously wasn’t because it couldn’t be done because me and my horny friends sure did know that it could very much be done… so “not supposed to,” eh, okay, I got it or, really, I’d get it a few years later and the hypocrisy was exposed and… I just didn’t buy into it.

But others were and did. It made them struggle with their sexual identity and that was understandable because being bisexual was different from hetero- and homosexuality. That weird sense of being the only one who was like this but, for me, having that “duh” moment and seeing that I couldn’t’ be the only one who liked having sex with boys and girls… because so did the others I grew up with. I would, in school, learn that famous line that said the only thing to fear was fear itself. I would learn that, in this, a lot of people were afraid and the “simplest” answer to this was to not be afraid… which might have been “easy” for me but not for the many guys and gals who were struggling mightily with being bi or gay.

I didn’t “dodge a bullet” in this because in order to have sex with someone, you have to content with their own views, thoughts, feelings, and even experiences… and there was “no escaping” having to contend with how others were struggling with, bluntly, not being straight or gay and then because of whatever fears were haunting them and, yeah, what others would say or do if they were to find out that they weren’t straight and like they were supposed to be.

It was a concern – make no mistake about that; but as something to struggle over? I guess I just didn’t see the sense in it. A guy had told me how guilty he felt after having sex with a guy and had asked me if I had felt guilty. I had had to really think about that to see that, yep – I did feel guilty but would eventually tell myself that it didn’t make any sense for me to feel guilty over something I wanted to do. I would, one day, kinda/sorta understand that the reason why I didn’t struggle with my sexuality – and as others still tend to do – was that I had the ability to… resolve things in my head. A lot of people flat out hated gay people and I’m not gay. I knew that they did (and still do) but was it something that I had to let fuck with me?

Nope. Ohmygod – what if someone else found out? Eh, I’d worry about that when I had to and, yes, I did have to worry about it but did it change anything about me? It didn’t and I really did stop giving a fuck about what someone else had to say about it when I was 15 or 16. I just knew that the thing they said was very wrong wasn’t really all that wrong.

I would say that if you know the truth about yourself, it’s nothing to struggle over. I would continue to grow up and be told that being true to oneself was the thing that always had to be done. Don’t be a fake-ass motherfucker to yourself. My truth was… I loved sex and that meant getting dick and pussy and there was no denying it so… no struggling. Not like I was seeing in others. Pretty much fearless because there was nothing about getting some dick that scared me, well, once I learned not to be, say, scared of guys with really big dicks. Yes, I would feel bad because people were saying whatever the fuck they felt like saying about not being straight – but I wasn’t feeling bad for myself: I felt bad for them because I knew that they didn’t know the truth and were believing the lies they’d been told and made to believe.

I just didn’t struggle with being bisexual. There are inherent problems that come with having sex – period. It’s not all “nice, neat, and pretty” as we’d like it to be and, yeah, there really was a reason why I’d hear adults telling us not to have sex because it was dirty and nasty… because it really is and I had learned this even when “dirty and nasty” was literally getting dirty and nastily sweaty having sex… with anyone and in any way. I… believed the science more than I believed anything else. I still do.

Sigh. I get to sit and read about how others are struggling with being bisexual and all of the stuff we’re being told to be fearful of. I’m more afraid of catching a stray bullet than I am of being bisexual. Having a stroke was scarier. But, yeah, I read about others struggling and I know why they are but what I don’t know is why they haven’t figured it all out yet and, uh-huh, my bias is getting involved because if I’ve learned nothing else, just because I didn’t have a lot of problems figuring this out never means that everyone will have smooth sailing in this. Some very real ones… and a lot of imagined ones that are borne out of the fear that has been instilled in all of us.

Someone told me one day, “You make this shit sound easy…” and I had to admit that I did and because, for me, it was easy. It’s not that big of a deal and if you’re smart enough to do things carefully, it becomes even less of a big deal. I think that it’s “not that hard” to understand… because it isn’t. But everyone isn’t me and that was a very hard lesson my mother taught me a very long time ago and it was humbling – and that’s being nice about it.

If you pay attention to what the “haters” are saying and, yeah, that religion is really telling the whole truth of things, chances are that you’re going to struggle with this and it’s really not that easy to get your head into a place where the truth you know about yourself is the thing you always have to believe in. Indeed, it’s one of the reasons why I still keep writing about this and doing my best to be as for-real about things as I can be. People struggle with this. I didn’t other than the normal struggles that comes with anything that has to do with people. Adopting and accepting that thing that says that you should always make it easier on yourself or, work smarter, not harder.

If you’re struggling over how to get others to accept you, you’re setting yourself up to fail because not everyone is going to so the thing that you have to do first and foremost is to accept that this is how you’re feeling and thinking and wouldn’t it be nice to have sex like this? If you let anyone erode your belief in yourself in this, you’re going to struggle. I’m not talking about arguing with them or trying to futilely make them understand something they don’t want to understand:

I’m talking about knowing who you are and what’s going on with you in this – and making it proof against those who, again, are going to think you’re some kind of fucked up or, yeah, in denial of being gay. If you allow someone else to make their problems with this your problem, the struggle will be all too real for you. There is truly no “Yeah, but…” in this. I’ve talked to too many who struggle with bisexuality and it’s not that they don’t understand this…. but. And the but is usually and persistently what someone else is going to think, say, or do because, bluntly, you’re something that they don’t believe in.

If you don’t believe in yourself, yeah, welcome to the struggle and you could have avoided it. If there’s a way for something to be fucked up, humans are damned good at finding ways to do it and we have seriously fucked up the whole issue on sexuality because we still believe in some shit that isn’t the whole truth of what it means to be a sexual human being. I learned that, um, I’m very sexual and I don’t have a problem sucking a guy off and turning right around to have delicious sex with a gal… but a lot of people do and I just learned to not let their problems be my problems to struggle over.

Just don’t ask me the details about how I figured that out… because I don’t know other than to say that I’ve had a very long time to think about all of this and, yeah, maybe way back when I was a youngster and I’d hear adults “busting my ass” for being so smart or being too grown for my age, maybe that was what allowed me to realize that there was nothing to struggle with or over.

I don’t know. What I do know is that it’s real… and it can be put to bed… but you gotta believe more in yourself than you do what someone else thinks about not being straight or gay. And that’s just not easy for everyone to do but if you’re struggling, believe that I’m not the only one who figured this out and, in a way, if a lot of us have figured this out, you can figure it out, too.

Just saying. It’s only going to be difficult because you allow it to be and people are going to think and say whatever that’s going to be and there’s nothing you can do about it… except to keep right on believing in yourself and in the face of all this derision and misinformation. The sex… is actually optional. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to or you just can’t and depending on situational things. Just the way things really are and it’s something you have to deal with… but not struggle with. I never romanticize the sex because it makes it into something it really isn’t but, okay, still no need to struggle about it and even finding someone to have the sex with shouldn’t be looked at as something to struggle over – it’s just something everyone has to deal with… and dating still sucks.

The struggle is real because we make it real for ourselves and, well, stop that!

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: 27 June 22

Today’s Thoughts aren’t as much about that asinine ruling made by the Supreme Court as it reminds me of what tends to happen when women have reason not to have sex with us. The only thing I’m going to say about that ruling is… I don’t fucking believe they did that, and they shouldn’t have.

Somewhere around 1977 or so, it was like women went on strike. Lots of music performed by male groups and singers about wanting women and some songs kinda steamy talking about what they’d want to do with them. Pretty standard stuff. Then Tina Turner released her hit single, “What’s Love Got To Do With It…” and that seemed to set off a tsunami of women letting it be known that they needed more from men than a hard dick and if they wanted to bed them, well, some songs were rather specific about what a guy would have to do.

Back then, there was no such thing as the memes we see all over the place today; sometimes, you could just put a record on that would tell someone how you felt, what you were thinking, what you expected, and other things: If you couldn’t say it, play it.

In the city, unemployment was rampant; you used to be able to get by without a high school diploma; then you needed one; and then if you didn’t have a college degree of any kind, well, good luck trying to find a job that paid enough money to keep the wolves away from your doors. It was also a time where there were a lot of men who, well, they spent a lot of time hanging out on street corners and complaining how they couldn’t get a break but, at the same time, they weren’t really looking or trying to make their own breaks and, yeah, if they could get a woman to take care of them, those asshats figured that they didn’t have to work or otherwise contribute to things.

Women weren’t having any of that and the first casualty to happen was… no more pussy. I would like to say that women were, at that time, really understanding that it wasn’t he who has the gold makes the rules; it was she who had the pussy did. Even the guys who were out there pounding the bricks every day – and unsuccessfully – weren’t immune from getting cut off but because they were making a supreme effort, they’d get cut some slack but if they were getting it every day, well, they could forget that. A lot of men in the city learned that there really isn’t such a thing as a free lunch.

As a result, both the economic and social situation in the city led to a huge increase of men looking for dick as an alternative to the scarcity of women willing to have sex all that much. Times were hard for a lot of people across the city and one of the things even I noticed that when people would be stressed, they either wanted to get high/drunk, have sex, or both and more men than women. Things were even harder for some when the rules concerning welfare were changed and women having babies were finding themselves either being reevaluated or cut off if they had a man living with them and some other new requirements placed on them to not keep having babies just so they could get that bigger check every month and, well, the shit got bad. Really bad.

I would guess that a lot of women decided that the best way to avoid having to decide about an abortion was to stop letting guys fuck them; the word was out that a woman didn’t need a man to do bad because she could do bad all by themselves. What I think a lot of guys didn’t know was that there was a rise in the number of women turning to other women for sex and as “evidenced” by the number of women I would hear saying, “A woman knows what a woman wants!” and a sentiment that was met with a great deal of derision from men… and quite a bit of fear as well.

A lot of guys weren’t getting any and whether it was their fault, or they were just being victimized by the way things were and for a lot of guys, well, there wasn’t much they could do about the way things were but there was something they could do about not being able to get in a woman’s panties:

Find a guy to have sex with. For a lot of guys I knew, to break down and have sex with a dude was not only the last thing they’d ever consider doing – and so far down on that list of things they would do that it might as well not been on their list at all – and it was considered to be an act of desperation. I would sit and listen to guys doing an odd thing: Pitching a bitch about homosexuality but turning right around and being rather specific about what would have to happen for them to wind up having sex with a dude. It was like, okay – I can’t stand liver and there’s nothing I like about it, and you couldn’t pay me to eat it – but if it was the only thing there was to eat and I had to eat it to save my life, well, I’d suck it up and eat that nasty-assed liver.

I would learn that guys would talk about it like this and with the presumption – or assumption – that getting to the point where sleeping with a man would become a “life-saving event” would never happen… but for many, it did. Some guys were finding it almost impossible to get a woman and the guys who had one, well, as the saying went, they hadn’t had pussy since pussy had them. These two things alone created a lot of stress in the guys I knew and many of them had reached that very last thing on their list of things they’d do because it was either that or… nothing.

Sure, masturbation was always on the table but there are times when you can jerk off and not only does it not take the edge off, but it also just makes you hornier if it didn’t straight-up piss you off. So many men caught between the rock and hard place and as a result, I was sucking a lot of dicks. Probably more than I’d sucked growing up (and I sucked a lot of dicks then as well). At first, I was… surprised. Then I started looking for a reason for this because there were a lot of guys telling me why they wanted to check this out and if it wasn’t for the way things were going, it was because they weren’t getting any pussy.

I would often see guys at their wit’s end about this. It was… suspicious that I could be hanging with the fellas and they’d be talking about how they needed their dick sucked right about now but what they weren’t saying was that finding a woman to do that was harder than their dick supposedly was. I mean, I’m talking to one of the fellas about the situation a lot of us were in and, invariably, he’d start talking about needing his dick sucked… and looking at me in a way that, later, told me that what he was really saying that he needed his dick sucked… and he wanted me to do it (or whomever they happened to be talking to at the time).

One of the things that cracked me up during this time was how guys who did get sucked off by another guy acted like it was no big deal – and it really wasn’t – but most of the times, a lot of guys blamed getting some dick on being high/drunk and they were stoned out of their mind because of the way things were going. I would find that the psychology taking place to be horribly interesting and more so when male blustering and what I would call all that “Old Testament nonsense” about what men are supposed to and what women are supposed to do was still very much a thing – and a thing that was going by the wayside because, well, women weren’t having any of that shit.

Which left a lot of guys at the end of their ropes. Needing sex that wasn’t jerking off. And “breaking down” and going to the very last thing on their list of what they’d do so they could relieve not only their sexual stresses but a lot of the everyday stresses as well. A lot of the guys I’d have sex with had the caveat and disclaimer that said, yeah, man, I need to do this – but that don’t mean I’m gay or some shit like that – and I never did figure out what “some shit like that meant” except maybe they were talking about being bisexual. I would see so many guys mindfucking themselves over having sex with another guy and I would see a lot of guys totally “let their guard down” and admit that this was something they’d always wanted to check out or, gasp, getting some dick wasn’t really their first rodeo.

Like a lot of us, to be general about it, they’d been very bisexual in their youth and had walked away from it and like they were supposed to. But now? It wasn’t easy to get a woman to either be in a relationship with or just for having sex… but all of them knew that having sex with a guy was possible and doable and now it was a matter of how badly they needed to bust a nut or two.

I would come to understand the… environmental nature of how men can find themselves turning to sex with men and it wasn’t always about that need to bust a nut or three or four of them. Stress, it seemed to me, was an interesting catalyst that could drive the need to have sex and that was fine… as long as you could find someone to have sex with and women were on strike in that department and not without reason because the times were just as hard on them as it was on men and, well, getting laid is nice – but doesn’t solve anything and it sure as fuck doesn’t pay the rent or put food on the table.

It was a mess, to be nice about it. Not everyone was immune from the environmental impacts and, again, there were a lot of guys being hammered by it and to the point where having sex with a guy stopped being that measure of last resort but started to make sense. Indeed – I’d blown a guy one day and he’d blown me and as we kicked back so we could get ready for another go at it he said, “Man, that was so good that I don’t need no woman to suck my dick!” I understood what he was saying even if I didn’t necessarily agree with it but I was also understanding that a lot of men were pretty pissed off with women being on strike in the sex department.

I would learn that between 1976 and, oh, maybe, 1983, the economic situation in the city and the social impacts had a lot of men learning some stuff about sex with other men… and themselves. Or, as I would often say to myself, they were just now learning something I’d already known. While guys had a slew of reasons why they wanted sex with a man – and some of those reasons were pure bullshit and designed to hide the fact that they wanted it more than they were willing to admit to – when it came to breaking it down in today’s terms of top, bottom, and versatile – I was surprised to see that a lot of the guys I’d had sex with in that time were… bottoms or versatile and greatly outnumbering tops.

I thought that this was because a lot of guys were funny about messing with anyone’s butthole but if you needed to fuck and you were with a guy, well, the choices were severely limited; you were either going to cum in his mouth or in his ass. While a lot of the guys I encountered were happy to have their dick sucked and would suck my dick – and after they’d say that they didn’t want to – some guys were so much in a lurch that if being able to get laid meant sucking a guy’s dick and being fucked by him – but it wasn’t likely that they’d get to fuck the guy in return, well, it was better than nothing.

I would learn that this wasn’t just a localized thing to my neighborhood because I’d be hitting the bricks and run into a lot of men from all over the city who would also be at their wit’s end because of the “lack of pussy” impacting them and some so stressed by this that it would embolden them. Like, I was at the bank depositing my check and the guy behind me leaned forward and whispered in my ear, “Man, I really need to suck your cock!” Not wanted to. Needed to. Once outside, he actually told me why he needed to and that was because his old lady had cut him off because he didn’t get the promotion he thought was coming his way and, as such, he hadn’t had sex with her for almost two months.

That and I looked like the kind of guy who wouldn’t mind a guy sucking my dick. He had such a great sense of urgency and need that I agreed to go with him so he could blow me… and, boy, did he ever! When I say that he went at me like he was starving, I’m not exaggerating. He got me off and swallowed my cum, sat up and said, “You don’t know how badly I needed that!” He’d also said that once he realized that his wife was serious about not giving him some, he’d resisted being pulled toward sex with men but that day, he’d seen the back of me and decided to take a chance that I might be interested.

When I sucked him off, um, yeah – he had been pretty “backed up” and it was one of those moments that had me wondering if he was ever going to stop cumming. Then he wanted me to fuck him because, as he had said, “In for a penny, in for a pound…” and, afterward and when I was on my way home, I wondered about why he’d put it like that. I was seeing a lot of… stuff about this and it wasn’t easy for me to make sense of it and more so when I’d have sex with guys who weren’t under the socioeconomic pressures that a lot of guys were under… but some of them were using these bad times as an excuse to have sex with a guy and however they wanted to.

Like I said, a lot of guys… found themselves and I’m not just talking about the many guys who were very curious about this and of a mind to not be curious. Guys who professed and swore that they’d never so some shit like that… were not only doing “shit like that” but were very damned good at it, first-timer or someone returning to having sex like this. I just couldn’t figure out why many of them seemed to know that if they wanted to have sex with a guy, I was the guy they needed to do it with. I felt… picked on but I would learn that I wasn’t the only guy who was drawing the attention of a lot of men… and men who weren’t gay but, yeah, the gay guys in the city were definitely availing themselves of this new influx of dicks and asses.

I overheard a local gay guy telling one of the fellas, “Come home with me – I’ll take care of you and like a woman should!” I laughed to myself about it since those guys were doing their best to be more woman than the real thing, but I also knew that this particular guy was seriously good in bed, and you know how I knew this. They were taking advantage of guys not being able to get pussy and some of those guys would grudgingly admit that fucking them was just as good as – or better – than fucking a woman. That particular guy, when he had hit on me, said that I wasn’t like the other guys who were very desperate and I told him that, no, I wasn’t suffering from a lack of pussy – I was bisexual and had been all of my life so what he was proposing was nothing new to me. Yeah… even I had to admit that he was “better” in bed than a lot of women I knew of, and I would later think about how he reacted to things we were doing that I’d feel was… exaggerated? Proving that being gay like they were made them better women?

I couldn’t make sense of it but, yeah, his ass was like butter but, eh, his cocksucking skills could have used some refining and I even laughed when, after I sucked him off in less than a minute, he had said that nobody had ever done that to him before. Well, maybe not… but I wasn’t just anyone. While those guys who “succumbed” to having sex with men as that last resort, this was just another day for me and one of many. Still, what he was telling me about the other guys in the neighborhood that he’d slept with, a picture was emerging in my mind that there were so many… environmental things coming together at this particular time that had a lot of guys wanting and needing to have sex… and if it was with another guy, it just worked.

You could always tell when a guy “got lucky” and got some pussy because you wouldn’t see him for x-amount of time or, the next time you saw him, it was because he was back to not getting any. As a very avid cocksucker, business was good for me in that respect, but my damned curiosity was pushing me to figure out why I was seeing what I was seeing and what could be going on in a guy’s head that made him “figure out” that a temporary solution to his problems was to get with a guy and do whatever they might agree to. The… emotional stuff I’d see from a lot of guys just continued to pique my curiosity. Getting dumped by a woman would put a guy in such a mental state that would get them “knowing” that to ease the pain some, having sex with a guy was what would help… and, sometimes, I knew it even if the other guy wasn’t even talking about it. Like my friend who gottten dumped – again. I felt so sorry for him because, clearly, the breakup had devastated him and more than any other time he’d gotten dumped.

I knew what would make him feel better; I just got up, went to where he was sitting (and crying), got his dick out, and started sucking him until he came and making so much noise that I was sure people walking by could hear him. He was… surprised because he didn’t know this about me, but he had also asked, “How did you know that was I what I needed?”

“I just knew,” I said – and trying to figure out how the hell I knew. I would realize that I had “created a monster” because every time he got really stressed and upset, he’d come visit me and I knew it just wasn’t a social call… but I would also learn that a lot of guys were having sex with guys for very similar reasons. It wasn’t so much a sexuality issue as it was a “gotta have sex” issue but many of them, again, found themselves. Admitted that for them, it was more than just having sex and in the sense of being real about who they were as a person and as a man.

And “all because” certain socioeconomic things came together in the right way that women going on strike was, honestly, a thing they had to do. Yeah, they were making it clear that they could get any dick and any time they wanted to… but they needed more than that and the hardships being faced meant that they had to be focused more on keeping wolves away and some also made it clear that they didn’t need us to have good orgasms. Turned out that “business” was good for my bisexual wife, too; she would tell me that some of the women she’d slept with were also feeling the same stresses I’d told her about regarding men but many of them just didn’t want to be bothered with having sex with a guy who “had a lot of shit going on with him” and, yeah, because things were so hard to get done – and if they were even trying to do anything at all.

“Comparing notes” with her filled in the picture for me and kinda supported my theory that when times are bad, people want to get laid and in any way they can manage to do so and, well, for whatever reason that made sense to them or was readily available to them. Or, oddly, things were bad but any sex they were having was the “same old cracker” and like Eddie Murphy would famously say in one of his early shows. Some wanted and needed… something different and not just someone else different but someone else who was really different.

Like a guy thinking, feeling, deciding or whatever that what he really needs is to have sex with a man and as evidenced by the guys I’d have sex with who were, in fact, getting plenty of pussy… but the economic situation that was beating a lot of people like they were rented mules was affecting them as well. It wasn’t about liking guys like that – and y’all know what that means – but for many, it was a means to an end and one that I would hear a lot of justifications put out there, from being curious about it to, again, being at their wit’s end and jerking off didn’t do anything other than making a mess they had to clean up.

If women were being funny about it, men weren’t being all that funny about it other than some of the ways I’d see them say and do to let a guy know that, um, ya know, if we were to suck each other off, that wouldn’t be a bad thing and it’s just what the doctor ordered right about now. “Now” just wasn’t being in that particular moment; “now” was the environment that had a lot of people struggling and a break in the struggle was to have sex… except, women were struggling as well and, clearly, if a woman was struggling, having sex was the last thing she’d want to do.

In that period of time, this was life in the inner city but, again, the environmental impacts didn’t leave people in the suburbs alone. I remember reading some shit about male bisexuality – and inner city/urban like – was a prime vector for men having sex with each other and, yeah, spreading STDs (and narrowing it down to Black men in a disturbingly specific way) and I called bullshit on that because I knew that there were a lot of men in the suburban areas who were bona fide cock fiends with or without all that socioeconomical shit going on. It wasn’t about race; it was, however, about men inside and outside of the city limits who were feeling the stresses of the time and trying to cope with them and one of those coping mechanisms was… to have sex with a guy.

Why that “made sense” escaped me for the longest time. Then again, I was under the impression – and as a lot of inner-city dwellers were – that if you lived in the suburbs, that automatically made you some freaky motherfuckers with all that wife-swapping and sex parties, so on and so forth. It was, for many, more myth than anything else but for those like me who’d find themselves out of the city limits to look for work, nah, it wasn’t a myth so much and, nope, those suburbanites weren’t as… uptight about getting into some same-sex stuff as folks were in the city proper.

We were all subjected to the same socioeconomic pressures and stresses… and getting laid was the pressure-relief valve and sleeping with a guy? It worked. Just don’t tell anybody that we did this, okay? Times were hard and the struggle was very damned real… but image and one’s reputation still carried a lot of weight and importance; it wouldn’t look good to be ranting and raving about gay people and how fucked up they were if it were to be discovered that they got some dick to ease the pressures or got some pussy because, well, why not?

For bisexuals, that time where I live was like shooting fish in a barrel. A serious target-rich environment; you didn’t have to search all that hard to find a guy who was interested in getting his dick suck and doing some sucking and being able to fuck was a added benefit. It wasn’t about being into guys… it was being into the sex. I would think that, oh, around 1984 or so, things got better in the city as far as the economic stuff went and that lessened a lot of the pressure, stress, and struggles that had a lot of men looking to get with other men. It seemed, at first, to really be like a receding wave but the truth was that a lot of the same sex stuff both men and women were doing just went… underground… and I have no sensible explanation for it other than to say that, from my perspective and in that specific time period, a lot of men and women discovered their sexuality and accepted it even under “it’s better than nothing” justifications.

That and Blacks were still being portrayed as being rabidly and violently homophobic… and, my goodness, was that not even close to the truth! The city had a lot of homophobes and race didn’t have shit to do with it which, given all of this, lent itself to things going underground and off that particular social radar. Guys were still looking to get some dick/ass and a surprising number of them were looking to bottom for any guy “brave enough” to slide their dick into their asses… and a lot of those guys were very manly guys. It gave me a lot of insight about being one way publicly but a whole different way in private. Guys were still blustering about how they wouldn’t do any of that gay shit and still talking shit about what they’d do if some dude asked to have sex with them – and how they’d teach them a lesson… by having sex with the guy and the rougher, the better the lesson would be.

Um, wait – how does that work? As a young bisexual, I’d learned a lot about guys but now? I was learning so much more and finally realizing that a guy who’d say that he’d teach that “gay motherfucker about what it really means to be a man!” might not have been aware that he was telling those of us who were listening that, sure – if a guy hit on him for sex, he’d agree to it and under the guise of teaching a lesson. Yeah, right. You were teaching him how much you liked having sex with guys; you were teaching him how good you could suck a dick or take the big ones in your ass. Uh-huh.

In 1988 or 1989 – I can’t remember offhand – I’d moved out of the city because living there was getting seriously dangerous, and it was economically less expensive. I would find that even in the more relaxed environment, there were still a lot of men who wanted to get some dick. They wanted to suck them and take them in their ass and while some of it was stress related, eh, the majority of it wasn’t. So very different from the environment I had moved away from except the “main reason” to get with a guy was… why not? It’s just sex, dude! I now lived in a college town and learned some stuff about that and how many male students were seriously on the prowl for dick… and especially from guys my age.

And would learn that the stuff I saw living in the city… wasn’t really anything new but it was a cycle that kept repeating itself in that if you subjected a guy to enough stress, well, giving up da booty to another guy was a way to get rid of the stress and even when pussy was more… available than it was where I used to live.

We get into the nature versus nurture thing and while I found this to be a very interesting topic of discussion regarding sexuality, the thing I was now very much aware of was how one’s environment and the conditions within that environment can affect sexuality. I would learn about… micro-environments; one development could be highly sexual and the one next to it not so much if at all. Or that part of a development was having sex like it was going out of style but two streets over? Just normal sex and, again, if it was happening at all. The city would announce some shit that would stress folks out and there would be protests… and a lot of dicks being sucked, and asses being fucked because, in an odd way, it was just something to do while waiting for the “problem” to resolve itself or get adjusted to.

Bisexuality is… interesting. It’s a way people can be, and I’ll even dare to say naturally so; they know that they like both guys and gals. Some are introduced to it and couched in experimental terms. Nothing new about that even though it always seems to be new. Some become bisexual because for them, it’s the “only viable option” available to them; it was either this or find themselves not having sex. Some become bisexual because it’s something different and there are those who sit back and wonder if this is all there is to having sex – and knowing that it isn’t but now it’s about whether or not they dare to go somewhere that we are morally prohibited to go. And for some, environmental pressures just seem to make a guy “know” that getting some dick (or giving up his ass to be fucked) “the thing” that has to be done.

Sometimes, the “underlying” reason is, indeed, bisexuality and sometimes it’s… just sex. Another way to get off that doesn’t have to have the romantic/relationship stuff attached. More often than not, I would dare say, because women have other ideas about having sex and, yeah, we do fuck shit up with them that will get us cut off or we’re putting so much pressure on them to have sex that it’s better to not give it up than it is to do it. While some guys will go cheat with other women, one of the things I learned back then was how many people felt or believed that if you were a guy and had sex with a guy, it wasn’t cheating and because it was just two guys doing what two guys could do.

Or blowing each other, while “nasty” was one thing and fucking, well, what the fuck is up with that? I would find it horribly interesting how others dealt with this when such activities were discovered and, sometimes, the argument wouldn’t be about what someone did… but who they did it with. Some men and women didn’t have a “sense of humor” about this kind of sex but almost always along the lines of it not being something that they’d do – and no one who would do it better not ever step to them like that.

It was like it was known that boys will be boys and girls would be girls… but there had to be a reason for it and I know a lot of guys who “got caught” getting some dick would speak to the pressures and stresses they were under due to the lack of employment opportunities as well as people getting in their ass about being a real man and doing what real men are supposed to do and there was no excuse for not being a real man and, well, baby, I was talking to “Carl” and we got to talking about all this shit and one thing led to another…

And some guys would be… forgiven. Well, not really but the woman in question wasn’t going to pitch that much of a bitch about it because, as one woman told me, “If he’s getting his dick sucked by some dude, he ain’t bothering me to do it!” His sexuality, such as it was perceived to be, wasn’t of any issue and probably because, back then, we all pretty much believed that gay men didn’t want anything to do with getting some pussy. So this guy, who was, at some point, getting her pussy until she cut him off for some reason couldn’t be gay, right?

Well, right. Kinda. Sorta. Excusable but inexcusable at the same time and there was a lot of riffing going on where women were standing up for their right to deal with their body in any way they saw fit and men asking them that if they weren’t going to give them any pussy, what are they supposed to do when they needed to have sex? The official answer was, “That’s not my problem…” or more to the point, “There’s nothing you can do except to not like it.”

But there was. I think we “knew” what else could be done but the overall angst toward homosexuality also lent itself to the way things were happening and, yeah, on the down-low which only meant doing whatever and not letting “everybody” know what you were doing and definitely not letting anyone know that you were having sex in a way you weren’t supposed to. Or, truthfully, it wasn’t a problem until it became a problem and then it did become one, yeah – talk about shit hitting the fan?

Those were some interesting times. I would learn that there are… different paths to bisexuality and that some of them aren’t all that obvious and how one’s environmental conditions could very well lend themselves to a guy deciding that what would take some of the weight off of him right now would be to get some dick and because humans can easily justify anything they might do, getting with a guy and sucking each other off… just made sense. I didn’t know why it made sense or what would go on in a guy’s head that would make it sensible to him other than knowing, and as everyone did, that there are men who live to have sex with men… but those guys are gay… and the guy who’s asking me if we can blow each other because it would be a big help, well, he isn’t gay, and neither was I.

I would come to understand that I was having a hard time understanding it… because I’d long since accepted the fact that I was bisexual and it was no big deal to me – I was being blinded by my own biases and biases that I didn’t know I had… until all of this jumped off and I was trying to make sense of it.

Still, I knew what I was but I don’t believe that being bisexual was what a lot of those men were thinking; they just knew that the pressure was on them, the women weren’t trying to give up the booty without their shit being proper and, well, shit – jerking off wasn’t doing shit but, um, how bad can it really be if a dude sucks them off and, uh, is sucking dick really that bad? It’s better than nothing, right? Doesn’t mean we’re gay, right? I won’t tell if you won’t, okay?

Not really so much about sexuality as it was about having sex with a guy as a coping mechanism given how shit was going for almost everyone. But, yeah, if you wanted to know why some guys are bisexual, now you know something else about it and I’d say that society should not be surprised if there’s another huge tsunami of both men and women turning to bisexuality because of what the Supreme Court ruled (the idiots – what the fuck were they thinking?).

Interesting times.

 

Xbox One Gaming: Bioshock 1 and 2

I’ve been playing the remastered versions of these games and I remember when they first came out for Xbox 360… and how it frustrated the shit out of me.

I couldn’t figure out how to play the game; the pamphlet that came with the disc wasn’t helpful at all and I remember tossing my controller aside in frustration and disgust just a few minutes into playing the game. My son-in-law had had a good time laughing his ass off at me and telling me that he was playing it and how much he liked it and how easy it was.

Bullshit! Then I got the second game… and realized that it didn’t make sense because I hadn’t even gotten into playing the first game. I had set both of them aside to play other games and when I traded in my 360 for my first Xbox One, I also traded both games in, too… and forgot about them.

Until, one day, I was in the store and looking for something new and different to play… and saw the remastered games, including the third one which I had owned… and didn’t like because it was really not like the first two games at all. Both were $9.99 and I said, “What the hell – lemme get them again and really play them this time!”

Bioshock is a “weird game.” It’s dark and gritty. Set in an underworld city that’s seen better days and filled with a lot of corpses and people who’d gone batshit crazy after being hooked on a series of differing “plasmids” that not only gave them amazing abilities but, yeah, made them lose their minds, too. As I got into playing Bioshock 1, man, because I hadn’t played the game before, everything was a surprise for me. It’s an FPS – first person shooter – and it was… easier to play since I’d gotten used to playing this type of game playing Borderlands. I don’t know how many times I got killed but, eh, you learn to expect this. Being able to acquire weapons and my own set of “plasmids” so I could do battle with the crazies took some getting used to. Being worried about running out of cash to buy stuff and ammunition with and, yeah, running low on “Eve,” which powers the various plasmids to be found and used.

Getting deep into which weapon would work in a certain situation and being able to quickly switch weapons when the one I thought would work wasn’t working… and then doing that without getting killed in the process. One of the things the game calls for is for the player to either rescue a “Little Sister” for her ADAM… or to harvest it from her. Rescuing her frees here from the effects of the ADAM she’s been collecting and consuming… and harvesting it from her kills her.

You get more ADAM when you harvest it, and you need all you can get. But first, you have to defeat the Big Daddy that is protecting her, and they are no joke. I would defeat one – and, sometimes, after he killed the shit out of me – and if I had to harvest her ADAM – because I needed it to update my stuff or get new stuff – I felt… bad about having to kill her. Silly, huh? I’ve played the game twice and I got an achievement (which I didn’t really care about) for going through the whole game without harvesting a Little Girl the first time around.

In a time where a lot of games are all about multiplaying with other users – and even across the many platforms now out there – both Bioshocks are about you against this murky, gritter, underwater city while being taunted and hunted by, in the first game, the guy who built it and, in the second, by some ditzy chick who had taken it over and, I guess, after I killed not one but two guys who wanted the city all to themselves… and me dead. While part of the end game for Bioshock 1 is for you to become a Big Daddy – which is well into the game – Bioshock 2 starts you out as a Big Daddy and as I played it, I realized that, yeah, if you don’t play the first game, just playing the second one doesn’t makes sense as far as the story line goes and because Bioshock 2 is a continuance of Bioshock 1 – you’ve just changed characters.

I’d played both the first time and it was worth what I’d paid for them. I’m done with them and looking at my other games and trying to decide which of them I wanted to play… and went back to play both of them again and as is my habit, trying to play them better than I did the first time. And I did. And not so much. Discovering a lot of stuff the second time that I hadn’t been aware of the first time. I’ve played both games three times now… and all three times have been different. And since I have three Xbox profiles, yeah, I get to play them on my other profiles, and you’d think that I’d have them down pat…

And you’d be wrong about that. The many times I screwed up and said to myself, “You know better! You knew what was coming!” And still fucked it up in some way. Incredible. I’m having fun playing a very old game and, yeah, I’m wondering why I got frustrated when I tried to play it so many years ago. When I finish writing this, I’m going to finish the games I have in progress; I’ve found that because both are set in an underwater world, it… gets to me. Gives me that closed-in feeling that, I think, speaks to how well the game designers did their job because I’m playing the game and feeling… wet. Damp and moldy. I’m not just playing the game – I’m in the game.

Maybe I’ll buy the third game again and give it a serious try. I remember playing it and it was… confusing but it didn’t really hold my interest because, as I said, it’s nothing like the first two games and it’s more aboveground than being anywhere near the water. I dunno. What I do know is how silly I feel not being able to play the first game when it came out.

But I’m making up for that!

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: 24 June 22

When it came to boys being boys, adults called it experimentation and I would, one day, read a summation that suggested that it could be looked at as “practice” in things sexual and in preparation for the moment where their sexual energies would be turned to and applied to girls/women. I had found this to be quite interesting and, if nothing else, plausible because:

1. You learned how be interested in sex
2. You learned how to do things like flirt, tease, kiss, cuddle and fondle
3. You learned about oral sex
4. You learned how to stick your cock into another person
5. You learned how to get your body to move the right way to make it feel good
6. You learn that when you shoot your sperm into another boy’s behind, it’s okay because he’s not going to get pregnant

Stuff like that and many other things I can’t think of at this moment. As I’ve said many times I was under the definite impression that the adults knew what us guys were into, even if only in theory, which partially explained why they were so dead-set against us finding out about this but, yeah, we did and now, as I would also think, it was about giving this… experimentation x-amount of time to run its course and the only time that adults really intervened was if (1) a serious ruckus occurred, (2) someone got caught in the act and/or (3) they arbitrarily decided that enough was enough; time to put a stop to it and get boys doing all of this to girls… after we were also told not to have sex with girls.

The “problem” came when, um, some of us didn’t stop doing this; yeah, some guys just walked away from it for some reason but it was easy enough to surmise that they did because girls weren’t as yucky as they appeared to be or, again, they were told to and usually in a backhanded way by the guy in question being asked if he had a girlfriend and if he didn’t, why didn’t he? If a guy didn’t show an interest in girls and, again, at some arbitrary point in time, hmm – he must be interested only in boys and that made him queer and a faggot… and now that poor guy would be getting levels of attention that he might not have wanted to get and the bad part was that some of those guys were “queer” – they were just late in being interested in girls and not all of those guys had been having sex with other guys.

Even back then, a lot of guys found that it didn’t get any better than to be able to have sex with girls… and boys and more so when girls were leery about having sex and, one day, I would learn what was at the root of them being so funny and picky about who got to do it to them: Sperm is plentiful, but eggs aren’t. Even in prehistoric times – and as a survival mechanism – women selected men to breed with based on the guy’s qualities like strength and being a good hunter and even “just” a good provider to protect her and her offspring.

There are no written records, but it was, I’d think, because of this, two guys figured out that they could have sex with each other and even probably because they simply weren’t the kind of men that women would want to breed with or, as I mentioned to Cityman a little while ago, two guys were out hunting, were far away from home and women and, um, well, yeah – that. Probably not how it all really happened but it’s plausible at best and given that part of my growth and experience in this came when me and another guy were sitting around doing a whole lot of nothing but, ah… there was something we could do.

Or being away from home – having a sleepover – and, well, if you think all we did was sleep, yeah, keep thinking that. Toss in what girls were being taught and talked about us and, well, try getting into their panties and find out what wasn’t going to happen but for a lot of us, that was fine… because we knew we could do it to each other and you didn’t have to beg, plead, or make promises that probably weren’t going to be kept or, today, she liked you enough to do it and tomorrow, she just found someone she liked more and for reasons like the other guy had better hair; he wasn’t too dark or too light; tall guys were better than short guys.

Stuff like that. Once I learned the sperm v. eggs thing, a lot of the stuff I went through with those crazy girls made sense as well as it made sense that if a guy couldn’t get pussy, another guy would very much suit the need because you could get a guy to suck your dick and most were more than willing to have you stick it in and fuck them and if you were shooting sperm, that was even better. I would see that even in this situation – which was pretty common – if a guy wanted pussy, couldn’t get any, and did it with a boy, if he did get lucky and got some pussy, you wouldn’t see or hear from him about sex until the next time he got left high and dry and his nuts were hurting very badly.

If nothing else, sex with other guys was… convenient. Usually, hassle-free and, sometimes, it didn’t take a whole lot to convince a guy who hadn’t done it before that, yeah, if we do it, you’re gonna like it and want to do it again. Not every guy did but, yeah, I could easily look back in time and see how true this really was. While the burgeoining social angst toward homosexuals was “going viral,” all it really did was to take having sex with men underground and as much out of the sight of social “eyes” as possible although, in this, yeah – the really gay guys didn’t help the rest of us out all that much by putting their gayness on display for all to see, get harassed for doing it, and making those of us who weren’t gay sorely afraid to be singled out as being gay.

“I won’t tell if you won’t!” was a major watch phrase between us because, duh, telling was bad… unless you told someone – another guy – who also wanted to have sex with a guy; then it was kinda okay most of the time but there are always bad apples. At times, we’d run into girls who wouldn’t give us the time of day… because they really liked girls way more than they liked boys, but I would see the emergence of girls who were bisexual because, if nothing else, girls were safer to have sex with than boys were and especially when all of us got around to shooting tremendous amounts of baby-making sperm.

Yeah… do you really believe that all girls did during sleepovers was talk about boys, do each other’s hair, talk about clothes and shoes and gossip? When they were horny, eh, they might do it with a boy – if he met their exacting requirements but if not and masturbation wasn’t helping all that much, girls knew what us guys knew: We could have sex with each other, and it could be just as good or better and it was definitely better than not having sex at all.

“Safer” in a sense. Convenient. Felt really good being bad in this way. Parents kept a closer eye on girls than boys which I thought made it… easier for them to be with each other and, sure, if boys will be boys, why can’t girls be girls? And, importantly, why did we all have to stop having sex in this way? Well, we were told to or it was assumed that we’d stop all by ourselves.

A lot of kids did. An untold number just didn’t. Some would find that they were gay; some would find that being straight about all of this was what suited them better and the rest of us, well, hmm. I would grow up learning that no matter where you went, there was always a guy who was looking to have sex with a guy. Always and not all of them were gay. More of a matter of convenience and expediency more than having any real attraction or affection; a true means to and end and, yes, the end very much justified the means.

If you didn’t mind, it never mattered. Just don’t tell anyone that we did this. I would run into really tough guys and the kind you just knew it would be in your best interest to avoid… and, um, they not only were amazing cocksuckers, but they preferred to be fucked more than anything else and, as such, would put most girls to shame and made them look like none of them knew how to be screwed. Or that shy and totally unassuming guy deemed to be a nerd could, in fact, get you naked and rock your world and with great gusto. I would learn that things like attraction and affection really did happen among males but not quite like it did – or we’d heard it did – among gay guys and, yeah, the more effeminate ones. This would set the basis in my mind that you didn’t have to like a guy like that – you just had to like him enough to want to have sex with him and if he wanted to, that just worked.

I’m there, you’re there, we don’t have much of anything else to do and, yeah, we get to talking about girls, our “hornometers” get redlined and, um, damn, my dick is seriously hard! And if neither of us minded, we knew how to take care of that problem. We could jerk each other off; suck each other off, fuck each other if that’s what it was going to take and, hopefully, no one would be the wiser.

Was this behavior really abnormal? Homosexuality was said to be, but we know why… but bisexuals aren’t homosexuals. I would, one day, read what Freud had to say about having sex: The only abnormal sex is not having sex at all. Yeah, that dude was probably ahead of his time, but his peers didn’t agree with his assessment of things regarding sex and, to an extent, sexuality because he probably knew that a lot of what sex is about… goes on inside our head and he was all about talking about stuff that society, in his time, would have preferred him to keep his big mouth shut.

I would, one day, learn that when it comes to humans, it’s not really about being heterosexual, bisexual, or homosexual, but it is really about all of us being sexual. Period. That hard-wired and very social need to have very carnal knowledge of each other and finding ways to take care of that need that would get broken down into those three – and long-standing – terms because, well, we had to call it something and we’ve proven ourselves more than capable of coming up with different ways to say the same thing – and then getting surly and defensive about it because, at the end of any day, it’s not what everyone thinks:

It’s what the individual thinks that carries the most importance. I say “bisexual,” and someone says “heteroflexible” and we are, in fact, talking about the same thing… but it’s perception on the part of the person who says that, nope, they’re not bisexual – they are what they say they are.

I think, therefore I am… and nothing you can say to me is going to change that and even if I know that what you’re telling me is the same as what I think about myself. Except, if you think I’m really gay, you are sadly mistaken – but that’s a social thing that only served – and continues to serve – the purpose of denigrating anyone who dares to not be 100% heterosexual.

I would grow up and learn that, as I’ve been saying, bisexuality isn’t the problem; there’s a reason so many men and women, upon their first experience, have said that it felt right and normal to them if not quite weird but, yeah, the need was met and/or exceed… because it is. We tend to differ on that one but, again, that’s a social construct that was designed for a specific purpose and heavily laced with fear to keep as many people as possible totally focused only on that specific purpose.

I – and a whole lot of others – had the “advantage” of getting in on the ground floor and early on in life. What made it easier, in that sense, was knowing that my male friend and I shouldn’t be having sex but since we could, why not? It felt good, it felt right but, if nothing else, it made us feel… wanted. A part of something that was better than being a part of nothing. Inclusion. Being able to override or overcome that guilt that social norms instilled in everyone or, as I would grow up to say, I saw no sense in feeling guilty over something that I wanted to do but, yeah, I would also learn some stuff about that, too.

All of this isn’t necessarily a… picture of how I came to be and embrace bisexuality because a lot of us had similar versions of the same picture. We can get all into how we got to know about this picture but that tends to make us overlook the fact that we found out about it just the same; either you liked it, or you didn’t. If you didn’t like it then, you could find yourself wanting and liking it later and you could still be straight or gay and, no – not all gay folks are 100% opposed to opposite sex stuff and like we all believe.

Because at the root of all of this, we are human, and humans are very damned sexual and creatively so. There are, of course, rules about having sex and who you are allowed to have sex with and under what conditions you’re allowed to have sex and, well, okay. They are what they are but as some unknown to me person said, “Rules are made to be broken…” and we have proven that we are very, very good at making rules and breaking the dooflicky shit out of them… because, in this, it feels pretty damned good. There is a thrill to be a guy and finding yourself sucking another guy’s cock and knowing good and damned well that you’re not supposed to.

I’m leaving out how fucked up we can be about having sex but that’s just us being… us. I sit and observe so many people trying to qualify and quantify bisexuality and applying all kinds of society-based stuff that I don’t think they can really see the forest for the trees; they’re too busy trying to decide if the trees should be there at all or that they should all be the same kind of tree and those trees should be kept separate from any other kind of tree. Or, yeah, that tree over there looks the same as the tree next to it but, nah, not really.

People are bisexual because they can, want, or have a need to be. It is very much in our nature as the social animal that we know we are but, yeah, we developed a serious complex over how social we can be to and with each other. What we think – or how we’re made to think – negates the way we can be if it suits our purpose, whether it’s a one-off kind of thing or embraced as a way of living one’s life. It’s not all about love but, yeah, love can be rather nice. It’s not all about being in a relationship but they, too, can be rather nice. It is about these things… and sex.

Mind-numbing, toe-curling, someone please save me sex. We have been going about the assumption that it can’t be that easy as far as an explanation… and it is that easy – we just can’t admit that it is but, this, too, is part of what it means to be human: If we can confuse the shit out of something, we will do just that and according to both our beliefs and perceptions. Society, so I’ve been “told,” has an objection to guys like me being bisexual but as far as I’m concerned, eh, I don’t know what the problem is because it has always worked for me… but I know why the objection exists and continues to exist.

We’re so “ashamed” of our ability to have sex and how… prolific we can be about that and nothing else that rules were made to suppress what we knew ourselves to be capable of. And every last one of us bought into this… until we found out otherwise. Are boys supposed to have sex with each other? No. Can they have sex with each other? You bet your bippy we can and some of us still love those crazy-assed women and, yes, their delicious pussies… because we can, and we want to and just like those who are steadfastly straight can and want to be and the same for those who found that being gay is just what works for them.

I don’t have to like a guy in the “exact same way” that I would like a woman in order to have sex with him; I just have to like him enough – and in some way – to want to and now it’s all about if he’d like for us to gain some carnal knowledge of each other and even if it’s merely convenient for us to do so. The thing is that I learned a lot of this before I was an official teenager because, even then, it was… obvious even if I didn’t know what I know now. I could like a guy… and I could really like a guy. Or not at all and that went for girls, too, which also taught me some important shit about attraction that that, yeah, most people get it wrong, but I know why they do.

But, yeah: If you don’t mind, it never matters. I won’t tell if you won’t. Like Cityman loves to say, it’s one way that men can bond with each other and more so when we do tend to treat each other like “enemies” or, better, competition. Why should we do this – and do some really horrible shit – to each other fighting over who gets to fertilize that woman’s egg when we can um, “fertilize” each other and pleasingly so?

A lot of guys get older – and much older – and become sexually frustrated and for a lot of reasons. One guy I got with said that he’d gotten to a point in his life where he wondered if this – women – was really all there was when it came to having sex. He knew that guys did each other but, as I’ve said, that’s not the same as wanting to do it yourself. I found his perception to be interesting and while that was the first time I actually heard it said that way, I would look back and see that other guys I’d had sex with spoke to the same kind of frustration and it didn’t always have to do with women not “putting out.”

They just “knew” that there had to be more than just that. They knew what else there was but, again, now it’s about convincing oneself that taking that step into forbidden territory was the thing that was missing or was, well and truly, more than just being intimate with women. You could correctly say that, as youngsters, yeah, we didn’t “know better” but I can assure you that I – and my fellows – did know better… and didn’t much care about that. Adults, however, are held to a much higher standard and, as such, they sure as hell do know better but, yeah, so many have found that the standard they’ve been held to, well, okay, it is what it is and in a great many things… but to lie with another man despite the forbidden nature of it?

Yeah… it’s not as bad as everyone says and believes it is. I don’t know how many times I’ve sucked a guy off – and it was his first experience with this – and see that if they didn’t “get it” before the fact, now they do. Lots of questions which I’ve mentioned too many times but, yeah, if they didn’t know, now they knew. Okay – I’ll admit it: Visually, it just looks wrong but I would figure out why it does: Because we’re not supposed to be doing it in the first place. It doesn’t look… sexy, not like how sexy it looks when a man and a woman are having sex and, yes, when two women are. Ladies, this isn’t objectification: This is just a fact of the matter and a lot of men are seriously jealous that y’all can please each other better than we can and no matter how good we are at having sex.

I have looked at a guy sucking my dick and that… something in my head says it doesn’t look right – because a girl should be doing that – and he shouldn’t be doing this to me at all. Yet, what was really the difference? Only one – it’s a guy doing it to me. I would be in the process of sliding my dick into a guy’s ass and all kinds of shit was screaming at me not to do it and not just because of what that place was really meant for… but fucking feels good whether it’s your hand, someone’s mouth, pussy, asshole, whatever and guys, well, part of our bad rep is that we will fuck any hole we can get our dick into… and as fucked up as that sounds, well, um, it’s the truth and even I felt some kind of way once I ran into this one.

If we get into fucking every woman we can get our hands on, we’re just dogs… but if we do this with another guy, we are the worst motherfuckers ever born but, again, this is social shit that plays into why same-sex sex is forbidden. There’s what we’re supposed to do – have sex with women only – and then there what we can do: Have sex with them… and any guy who wouldn’t mind all that much. Not because we like guys like that – and this premise is a social construct as well – but, simply, because we can and it’s… sex.

It doesn’t get any simpler than that but, again, if we can confuse the shit out of something, we will. In this, being homosexual goes 100% against the way sex is supposed to be done… and bisexuals just fuck the whole social premises up because we have sex the way it’s supposed to be done… and in the way it’s never to be done… and at the very root of it is sex. Getting our dicks hard and making them soft again and literally sowing our seed even if the only results of it is… two guys feeling pretty good about the sowing. Or two women being comfortable in mind and body that, um, no sowing is going to take place.

Because, again to bottom-line it, it’s sex. Anything more than that is… gravy on the mashed potatoes; now it’s just a thing of whether you like mashed potatoes and how you like them: With gravy. Just a good chunk of butter. Plain. All of the above and let’s toss in some garlic because that tastes good, too… unless you don’t like garlic.

You either like mashed potatoes… or you don’t but, eh, sometimes, they aren’t bad because they just might be better than nothing when you’re hungry… and some folks who didn’t like them found that, um, they’re not really that bad but – wait for it – it’s not something they’d eat all of the time and as a matter of course.

Bisexuality is like this. Yeah, the analogy kinda sucks but still valid because, at the root of the food thing is that need to eat. Period. Not all that different from our need to have sex and while white potatoes are the standard for mashed spuds, um, so are sweet potatoes. Or those purple ones. If you “prefer” sweet over white, well, hmm, aren’t you quite the weirdo – but we can get so wrapped up in this that we overlook the simple fact that… it’s a potato that got mashed. Try a mashed sweet potato – you might like it… or not. You could like both. Not equally but, yeah, if the potato is sweet rather than white, it still works and no “hating” needs to be involved since it doesn’t make a lot of sense.

I learned all of this when I was young. A lot of us did. Boys will be boys… and can continue to be “boys” even when we’re all grown up… and should know better. We do know better. Doesn’t mean a whole lot in the grand scheme of things because, if nothing else, it’s sex. Toss in all the likes and dislikes and preferences and it’s still… sex. Someone asked on the forum, “Why is it called gay sex?” Well, because it is. It is very much how homosexual men have sex with each other. Duh. Homosexual equals gay and the sex is… gay sex. We can and do get fucked up in the head about being gay – but, well, we know why and getting bent out of shape about this also serves to make us overlook what’s at the root of it: The sex part.

Sighing. Who in their right might would even want to go both ways? A lot of us and if that makes me crazy, well, um, I’m probably the craziest person you’ll ever meet because it just makes sense to not deprive yourself of the pleasures of sex – period. Oh, we find reason to but I’m not talking about that. A woman can give me head and it’s just as pleasurable as a guy giving it to me. I can fuck a woman and, shit yeah, my goodness – does that ever feel good or what? But I can feel the same way fucking a guy and the “bigger difference” is that he could fuck me… and, yeah, that feels good, too…

Because it’s supposed to. Period. And not just and only one way. Boy/girl, boy/boy, girl/girl… and all of the above. If you don’t mind, it never matters… but to society it does, right? Hey – don’t knock it until you try it and so many people over the entirety of our existence have tried it both ways… and ain’t even knocking it one bit.

Because it can be done. It’s always been done. It continues to be done and right this very moment, there’s a guy or a gal who is finding out something I’ve always known: It really ain’t as bad as everyone says it is and if nothing else, it’s just sex.

I’m out…

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: 23 June 22

Along time ago, someone had asked me if I got a lot of grief about being bisexual and who gave me the most grief.

Well, shit yeah – I’d gotten plenty of grief from a lot of people and I’d been learning to, well, not so much ignore it but to not let all that negativity fuck with my head. As for who gave me the most grief? I had to think about that for a few minutes and while I could easily see that I’d gotten a lot of grief from both men and women, I saw that – at the time – men gave me the most grief and gay men in particular and, ironically, as recently as a couple of days ago.

A gay guy I’d met in a bar and came right to the point: He thought I was sexy and asked what I thought of men having sex with each other. I had inwardly sighed because this was becoming a pretty common situation for me and even as the guy was making his pitch, I was thinking that there were a lot of guys in the bar and many who were, like me, sitting at the bar with a glass of something. Out of all of these other men, you mean to tell me that you singled me out? Again? Sheesh.

So I told him that I was agreeable with it because I was bi and even in the dimness of the bar, I saw his eyes light up and, well, when he suggested we go to his place to suck each other off I thought, “Why not – it’s not like I have anything better to do…” – and off we went. Once at his place, we got right to it and… sucking him off as he sucked me off was what the doctor ordered. He seemed to be… surprised at how good I was at it which had me thinking that maybe he felt that I was… a rookie or maybe not that experienced and that, well, I could see how he might have thought that because, at the time, there were a lot of bi guys showing up who were babes in the woods about this.

We got into it again and the action was hot and fierce and as only two men can bring to the table and I wasn’t all that surprised when he stopped sucking me and demanded that I “put that big motherfucker” in him which had me rolling my eyes a little but, okay, if that’s what you want; I’d been happy to just suck dick but this wasn’t just about me. I felt that he was in his element as I screwed him in a couple of positions before I came in him and the way he was hollering, “Yes! Yes!” almost made me laugh.

Guys can be so… dramatic when having sex. I’d asked him if he wanted to screw me in return and he said, “Oh, no, honey – I’m the girl here!” Okay – if you say so. All in all, it was some pretty good sex and I had no “regrets” over having been picked up – again – until he started going off on me about lying to him about being bisexual when he knew for a fact that I was gay and I thought, “Here we go again…” His tirade was epic; I had to listen to him bemoan the fact that men had always treated him bad from the moment he realized that he was gay and how he couldn’t find the man of his dreams and, somehow, that was my fault and he was seriously pissed off because he knew that this would be a one-time thing for me and he wanted more and, not unexpectedly, put in his bid for me to give up women and be the gay man I really was.

I don’t remember all of the expletives he’d mixed in but, yeah, use your imagination. He told me to get the fuck out of his house and if I were to ever see him again, do not speak to him because I was like those other bi motherfuckers who couldn’t commit to anything which I knew meant that there were bi guys who didn’t want to commit to being in a relationship with him. So I left and went back to the bar… because if I didn’t need a drink before, I needed one now.

I had told the guy who asked the question this and he just nodded in understanding. Don’t get me wrong: Women were vicious in their objection to bi guys, specifically and generally, and how we didn’t know a good woman when we saw (or had) one and how it didn’t make any damned sense to be having sex with each other, so on and so forth and, yeah, having a woman unload on me like that was always scathing… but not as vicious about bi guys as a lot of gay men were that I’d come in contact with.

When you’re bi, you haven’t lived until you have a gay man tell you, “If it wasn’t for the fact that you’ve had your dick in that nasty-assed pussy, I’d take you to bed in a heartbeat! You ain’t shit!”

I’m sure I didn’t endear myself to him when I started laughing.

I’d told him about this one and he was trying not to laugh because reactions like this, for bi guys, is some very serious shit. We both allowed that not all gay men or straight women are… unfriendly toward us but, yeah, good luck trying to find one who wouldn’t give you a bunch of shit for not being the kind of man they wanted or expected.

“What about straight guys?” he had asked and I sighed… because that’s all I could do as an initial response.

I’d allow that, yeah, a straight guy finds out that I like dick and they get instantly weird about it and, sometimes, got to talking about how they’re not going to have sex with me which, when I first heard this, surprised the shit out of me because I wasn’t even thinking about the guy like that. This one guy was like, “I didn’t know you were gay!” and I was like, “I’m not gay – I go both ways!” and, well, so much for being honest with people, huh? The guy had gone on a tirade that I’d heard so many times, either directed at me or just listening to guys talking about their utter disregard for any man who’d have sex with another man. It would be “gay this” and “gay that” and I’d find myself interrupting the diatribe by asking, “Did you miss the part where I said I love women and I’m married to one?”

To them, that didn’t make a difference and, well, you hear this enough and you just learn to not only ignore it but to feel sorry for anyone who overlooks this very important aspect of bisexuality because, clearly, they don’t get it and can’t understand it… and, of course, this was made easier for me because I knew why.

I’ve never had any problems with gay men. Shit, I grew up with one and was a schoolmate and friend to a couple of more growing up. I understood why they were the way they were and more so when most of the gay dudes I would meet discovered their gayness in similar ways to my discovering my bisexuality. I understood that we weren’t the same, but we had a lot in common and while I didn’t, at the time, share their feelings for men, we sure as fuck had the sex in common. The mistake I made was assuming that “all” gay men would be understanding about the differences. I love women and pussy and, yeah, they weren’t hearing any of that and especially the guys who tried being involved with girls/women and it just wasn’t working for them in any aspect.

I’d find that I was the bad guy because, well, I liked/loved women. I was the bad guy because I didn’t want to have a boyfriend – and this was before I had one – and, shit, why can’t we just have sex without all this fussing? I would find myself telling some gay guys that if there was a chance that I might be interested in having a relationship with them, they just ruined it by giving me all this shit about not being gay like they were… or they wanted me to be.

That a lot of gay men thought I was “the shit” because I was bi tempered my overall thoughts about gay men; I knew not to blame all of them for the faults of one… but, yeah, I’d encounter so many who decided I was guilty of whatever they didn’t like about bi guys and simply because I was bi. Like the one I was talking to who said that I wasn’t going to get a chance to break his heart and he didn’t care how good I was in bed… when we weren’t even talking about that.

I’d get older and find that, yeah, if I had to say who was at the top of my list of people disgruntled with bisexual men, gay men were at the top of the list… and I wanted to know why and then realize that, huh, I already knew why: Despite the differences in our sexualities, we wanted the same things. Good sex. Someone we could care about and even love. Someone we could be in a relationship with. And all of the above with someone who understood that being straight wasn’t the only way to be.

In some, all they could see was the “gay side” of me and other men like me. One guy asked me, “How the fuck can you be so good in bed and not be gay?” Well, um, shit – how do you respond to that? And even better, why do you not understand that sexuality doesn’t have shit to do with being good in bed with anyone? One guy, during a post-sex tirade, said that he didn’t understand why I didn’t like men the same way I liked women and my answer of, “Because I don’t…” didn’t sit well with him… but I was aware that a lot of people felt that if someone was bisexual, they had to be equal about, well, everything.

It doesn’t actually work like that as a matter of course. I would learn that a lot of the grief I’d catch from gay men was due to some personal shit with them or, yeah, they had feeling for a bi guy and got their feelings hurt and turned in to heart tartare. Well, yeah, that’s just a fact of life that all men wind up learning and no matter if the object of your heart-felt desires was male or female and sexuality be damned. I found that the people who didn’t give me a lot of shit about being bi were… lesbians.

Go figure. I mean, outside of the fact that they’d make it clear that, fuck no – we ain’t having sex so get that out of your head right now! Well, okay but, damn, I do think you’re terribly sexy and desirable just the same. The “usual” lesbian-feminist stuff that most people interpreted as all lesbians being man-haters. Ah, but their… displeasure would be tempered toward me because, well, I just didn’t engage with women – I know my way around a dick, too. I don’t know if it was my bisexuality or if it was decided that I was a nice guy when I got to have sex with a couple of lesbians although they both had said that they wanted to know what it was like and, well, I took it at face-value.

When a lesbian tells you that you’re “just okay” in bed, you take the compliment and call it a day. Of course, I had to hear them say that it wasn’t something they’d do all the time or with just any old guy but, that wasn’t different from what I would hear bi guys say. Yeah, it’s probably quite difficult to admit to yourself that you liked something that you weren’t supposed to like.

My “problems” with gay men didn’t come from the guys who were “gay but masculine;” no – they came from guys who were effeminately gay and one the one hand, I was glad that I ran into these guys early in my sexuality development but, on the other, it took me a while to understand why they were giving me “da bizness” about not being like them… and then kicking my own ass because it got past me that these guys thought, felt, believed, and behaved… like women. It was a “side lesson” in not overlooking the obvious and I’d felt like a dope because it took me so long to make this particular connection in my head.

Once I did, their objections to me being bi made sense. I had to get used to some gay dudes saying stuff like, “Oh, you’re one of them… and hearing the disdain in their voices. Or how I’d be okay if I wasn’t one of them. The now-usual stuff about why I don’t just admit that I’m really gay and stop denying that I am and, yeah, usually, after we’d had sex. I would say that the more masculine guys were, oddly, a lot like me about it. Sure, we can have sex and if we find it to our liking and want to do it again, okay, that works. Anything more than that? Eh, not really necessary but stranger things have been known to happen.

And didn’t I know that? Yea, verily I say unto you, my very gay boyfriend took me to school and educated me. I didn’t love him because he was gay – I loved him because he was… himself. I would come to understand his gayness, what it meant to him, how it shaped his life and, yeah, he wanted the same things anyone wants out of life. He had told me that he was so happy to learn that I was bisexual and had been for a long time because that would go well as far as my understanding him with since we had something else in common: We very much liked sex with men and that was something we could build on.

And he was right. We were talking about broken hearts one night and he admitted that, yeah, a lot of men had broken his heart but said, “But you’d understand that since I’m sure you’ve had a lot of women break your heart and turn it into goo, right?” He was right about that, too. Being with him was what really made me understand that despite differences in sexual preferences, we all want the same things out of life and, sure, we’re going to be dismayed, pissed off, bitter, etc., when we can’t get them, or we have them and it goes away sooner rather than later.

He got me to really understand that all of the riffing and grief I’d been getting from other gay men, well, there was a reason for it and some of it wasn’t because I was bisexual, but it was because I was a man they found to their liking… and I couldn’t or wouldn’t be with them the way they needed me to be. And just like any of us, you get your hopes dashed or your feelings hurt and you get to feeling some kind of way about that and, yeah, if one person was guilty of this, everyone will be guilty until proven innocent.

My revised and improved understanding didn’t mean that, going forward, I wasn’t going to run into people who had an axe to grind about (a) homosexuality and (b) anyone who’d lost their minds and decided that going both ways was a good thing to do. I would feel… frustrated, not because of the sometimes-hateful things I’d heard but because those who would say such things just didn’t seem to understand that, again, despite the differences between the three sexualities, we’re not all that different. I would begin to tell those who dared to ask me about being bi that the only difference between me and a straight guy is that I like dick and that the difference between me and a gay guy is that I like pussy. Otherwise, I’m a guy and just like they are; I get up every day and do daily stuff just like they do and for a lot of the same reasons they do because this is what we’re supposed to do in order to have the best life we can manage to have and, yeah, along the way, hearts and hopes will be broken and trashed and sexuality really doesn’t have a damned thing to do with these fact-of-life things.

You just live with the understanding that there are people who aren’t going to understand. Sometimes, you can get them to understand but if I’ve not taken away anything else from being bisexual, it’s getting to understand how… closed-minded people can be. How anyone can let the disappointments experienced in their past influence any potential future. That there’s a reason why the overall social angst exists even though it shouldn’t but getting rid of it isn’t going to happen overnight and as nice as that would be.

I’d gotten with another gay man and mostly because we had cocksucking very much in common and, yeah, doing it with him was delightfully delicious. We’d both unloaded our balls and swallowed the fruits of our labor and were lying back basking in the glow and getting ready for round two when he said, “My life would be so much better if you were more like me.”

I didn’t have to ask him what he meant by that because I knew but I understood the sentiment. He said that not only could he get used to having sex with me – and looked forward to us doing more than sucking each other off – but he could also get used to waking up to me every morning. But he understood why that wouldn’t be likely to happen and, to me, he had already made up his mind that it couldn’t. Honestly, I thought he’d make a good boyfriend and not because of the sex but, like so many of us, he had… baggage that he couldn’t leave behind that had him sure that other than having sex, nothing else would be doable and I thought that the thing he didn’t say was, “I don’t want my heart broken again.”

Well, none of us do and when it does happen, it can make anyone disappointed, dismayed, disillusioned, and even bitter because, to be blunt, the fairy tale of happily ever after is more idealistic than realistic but it’s something that we all chase, sometimes catch, and wind up losing and then becoming “more of the same” and in ways that, again, can make someone new instantly guilty of the “crimes” committed by someone else. Then you tack on the abject prejudice some gays have toward bisexuals… because we didn’t (or don’t have to) struggle with things like they do. I can well imagine how it might feel to them to be Public Enemy Number One and just because they’re homosexual and more so when now, being male and bisexual also makes one PENO and then because to many people, there’s no difference between a gay guy and a bi guy and to many gays, well, we’re just fake-assed bitches in denial of being well and truly gay… and some don’t have a problem being very vocal about it.

And… I understand it. I don’t like it at all, and I maintain that it’s a stupid way for us keep behaving this way but, yeah, we’re only human after all.

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: 22 June 22

One of the many things I learned growing up as a male bisexual was that I can’t be responsible for what someone else thinks. I also learned that, um, everyone is straight until proven otherwise or, more to the point, never assume anything. It makes getting some dick difficult because you can’t really look at a guy and tell that he wouldn’t mind getting naked with you and, yeah, even if he “looks like the type.”

There’s what you think but that might not be the truth… or it might be but given how… funny guys can be about the topic things M2M, I was seeing that if a guy didn’t reveal his “secret” to me, the only way to find out if they had one was to ask them… and even then, you might not find out the truth about the guy.

A guy who was, by his own definition, a straight-acting gay man, lamented that he wished that guys like us didn’t have to hide what we were and all I could do was make one of those “what are you gonna do?” faces as an initial response.

“Until the rest of the world stops being idiots about men having sex with men, if we have to hide it from everyone around us, that’s what we’re going to keep doing,” I had said. It didn’t cross my mind that one day I’d be sixty-years old and 100% entrenched in “I don’t give a fuck who knows.”

He had agreed with what I said while allowing how difficult it was to meet like-minded guys or, really, different like-minded guys; he had correctly said that once you start meeting and getting with like-minded guys, one rarely steps out of that circle to meet new guys… and I saw the writing on the wall about this because I was part of a circle of, oh, maybe twenty-five to thirty bisexual and gay men and we’d make the rounds with each other because doing so was easy… now that we knew each other’s secret. Maybe one of us would see a “new guy” who was found to be attracted and I’d listen to them talk about how they’d love to get the guy in bed but how to approach him or, actually, how to bring up the fact that, yo, man, can I get that – and without some unwanted shit jumping off?

If you don’t ask, you won’t know but if you do ask, you might not find out the truth. Guys having sex with guys has always been demonized and many men found that it’s better to hide in plain sight than to “flaunt” themselves in front of a society that would be more likely to crucify you than applaud your openness.

The “difference” between being a very young bisexual and an adult one was that I knew all the guys who was like me and there was no questioning them about it but if there was a question, it was The Question: Hey, have you ever done it with another boy? Either they had or they hadn’t. Did they want to? Either they did or they didn’t. Do you wanna do it with me? Yes, no, maybe. Even then, our biggest fear was getting caught. As an adult, yeah – try asking a guy you’re interested in The Question and see how he might react; you might get lucky and he lets you in on his secret or he’s gonna have a hissy fit while declaring that he’s not gay (that’s fine… because I’m not, either.). Not only is guessing incorrectly about the guy embarrassing, but there’s also the realization that he may not have been telling the truth while strenuously stating that he’s straight and, classically, he’d never do some shit like that.

I realized that when a guy guessed correctly about me, yeah, sometimes, I’d categorically deny it, not as a knee-jerk reaction but, usually, because my instincts said that confirming it to this guy would be a very bad idea. All of this would be so much easier if we didn’t have to deal with reprisals and repercussions over not being as straight as people assume we are. I would realize that if someone thought I was straight and found out that I wasn’t all that straight, yeah, sometimes, they’d lose their shit and to make the drama even worse, it was my fault that they assumed that I was something that I really wasn’t.

It would teach me that not only did I not look like the type, but no one actually does. I don’t know how many times I’ve run into a guy whose mannerisms and behaviors are screaming at me that he might be interested in doing something… and I was wrong about him. Or, as was usually the case, talking to a guy who was behaving like the very straight man he’s supposed to be… and finding out that he wouldn’t object to getting me naked and having carnal knowledge of me.

Or the very normal thing of a guy knowing that he’d love to get some dick… but because the whole world was very much against such things, if you didn’t know this about him, you’d never know it unless you happened to catch him getting some dick… and that wasn’t likely to happen. Ask him if he likes dick and he’s going to lie and, sometimes, badly so… but that, in and of itself, might not mean anything because some people just don’t know how to lie convincingly.

I understood why one’s bisexuality wasn’t “public knowledge” because no one “knew the difference” between a bi guy and a gay one. So many who learned my secret would be 100% focused on the “gay” aspects of my sexuality and so much that they couldn’t hear that, um, just because I like getting some dick doesn’t mean that I’m not seriously involved with women. And being told, one more time, that I don’t look like the type… but being accused of being the type.

Make up my mind: Either I look like I’m gay or I’m not gay. I know that I’m not and you really do get sick and tired of other people trying to tell you that you’re something that you know you aren’t or that twisted logic that I’ve heard where it’s said that if I like having sex with men, then I’m gay; else, I’m just confused and in denial of what I really am.

I mean, really – who in their right mind goes both ways? Well, I just told you that I do… so it’s not my fault that you don’t believe me – that one is totally on you. Because of what everyone believes, well, there’s your problem and I would learn that overcoming someone’s beliefs in this was very much like beating your head against a brick wall or as futile as trying to count the grains of sand on a beach. You could do that… but why would you want to?

Acceptance, as advocates are learning, is more than just a bitch and a half; it’s almost impossible because humans are insane enough that they know that there are men and women who go both ways and even in general terms… and their beliefs will not let them accept this as a truth and a given. It’s easier for them to assume and believe that if you’re not straight, you are gay, not that this makes things okay, mind you.

Sigh. I don’t know how many times I’ve correctly guessed that a guy is like me; he knows that I know but he’s hard-pressed to confirm that, okay, you got me – you figured out my secret. Even better – and if you pay attention to his body language, he wants to confirm that you’re right about him… but that thing in his head is making him – forcing him – to deny any or all allegations.

I don’t know how many times a guy has broken down and admitted that, yes, he’s bi and, yes, he finds me interesting, hot, sexy, whatever but also admitting that he was afraid to confirm it or, sometimes, saying, “I don’t know why I couldn’t tell you when you first asked… because I wanted to.”

Well, I know why. You were conditioned to be afraid of not being heterosexual. You, like I did, learned that not only do other people get very weird about homosexuals, but they’re also even weirder about bisexuals because, again – who in their right mind goes both ways? I would, one day, come to the conclusion that being bisexual isn’t the problem:

It’s what everyone else thinks. I’d get well into my forties and hearing guys – mostly – talking about being in the closet and either staying in there or, occasionally, sneaking out which made sense because if you’re really hiding in the closet, you ain’t getting any dick unless, by chance, it gets “delivered” to you and that’s not likely to happen or, as I recently said, “Amazon ain’t gonna deliver the dick you ordered.” I would, one day and after listening to a guy telling me about why he was in the closet, realize that I heard this before and a long time ago… and the people I heard saying this exact phrase were… homosexuals.

They most definitely had very good reason to hide in a closet of their own making because it wasn’t hard to see what happened to those who came out of their closet… and the results were anything but nice. Indeed, the first time I heard, “coming out” was from a gay woman and, um, I was confused because, um, aren’t we outside and talking? She gave me a look that one would normally give a puppy who peed on the floor and said, “Not outside, silly – out of the closet.”

Oh. I learned about coming out of the closet from homosexuals… and isn’t it interesting that bisexuals have adopted this concept. Just like the very first time I heard the terms “top” and “bottom,” it was from a gay man who had asked me if I was a top or a bottom and I was like… huh? I would learn that these were terms used by gay men and, well, no wonder I didn’t know about them… because I’m not a gay man – but I am bisexual. And isn’t it interesting that we’ve adopted this concept as well?

I would learn that it’s “bad enough” that society is so… puerile in their thinking and beliefs where sex and sexuality are concerned but, yeah, sometimes, we’re not helping ourselves all that much by describing and defining being bisexual and in every way imaginable… so as to not say that, yep, I’m bisexual.

So what? A lot of people are. I have seen the enemy… and, sometimes, it’s us. It didn’t make sense to me at first but I would learn that because the majority of society believed that people were either straight or gay – and gay was very bad – many had to… mindfuck themselves into believing that what they said about themselves didn’t mean that they quacked like the duck they really are… because there is still a lot of fear attached to not being heterosexual… and being homosexual… and too many people are too hidebound to be able to see that bisexual isn’t another word for homosexual.

And I absolved myself of any responsibility over what someone else thinks, presumes, or assumes. I don’t look like the type but, in actuality, I do look like a type… and that would be like any other guy looks like. I don’t act straight because I am straight… and not so much. If I tell you that I am but you have a problem processing it, well, that’s not my problem; that’s your problem and, hmm, I just might know why you have this problem but, again and as a lyric in an Earth, Wind, & Fire song went, “If you don’t understand me, it’s your fault.”

Not mine. I made it as clear as glass: I like men and women. Or, if you prefer, women and men. Now, if you believe the lie that a gay man couldn’t be sexually interested in a woman, well, they can be even though they’d tell you that they’re still very much gay. I’m just not going to take any blame over your lack of understanding. Did I confuse you? Yeah, obviously. Am I going to apologize for doing that? Eh, probably not but I have apologized for that… but never for being bisexual. It’s… not really your fault that you’re having a problem with this because, again, you were mindfucked into believing what you do… but it is your fault that you can’t accept that I’m something you were told not to believe in.

You know, since I’m standing right in front of you. Oh, you’ve heard of people who go both ways but never met one? Now you have… and are we going to have a problem? It has always cracked me up for a guy to be told my secret – or he figured it out – and now he’s practically shitting on himself… because he thinks I’m going tear his clothes off and ravage him sexually. Why?

Because even I grew up being told that there are men who would rape me, and those guys were called faggots and sissies and queers. I was made to be fearful, well, um, until I found out that there was nothing to be afraid of all that much. But everyone learns to be afraid and very much so and, as such, it makes people have problems accepting that not everyone is straight or gay and, yeah, a lot of bisexuals have problems accepting it, too, because gay is to be feared.

The best way to protect yourself from those who would give you drama and grief is… to not let anyone know. Well, okay – that’s a problem when one wants to get some dick; it’s impossible to get some dick from a guy without letting him know that you want his dick and, yep, that’s never easy because he just might very much want to give you what you want… but that means that he’d have to tell you his secret… and more fear gets injected into the moment.

I don’t know how many times I’ve had a guy and him giving the caveat and disclaimer that, okay, we can do this… but he’s not gay. Again, that’s fine… because I’m not, either. Or that, “It’s not something I do all of the time!” and when I first heard this, I thought that, okay, neither do I but what I didn’t know – but would later learn, that’s just another way to tell someone that you might like getting some dick every now and then… but you’re not gay.

I wouldn’t say that you are, but I have learned to be… neutral. You are what you are until it’s proven that you’re not what you say you are. Or yeah – everyone is straight until proven otherwise and… good luck trying to get the proof because even if they aren’t straight, they’re not all that likely to tell you that they aren’t… because here in 2022, we are still being made to be afraid of homosexuals.

Think about that one for a moment. Even if you set aside the labels, I’m a guy who loves having sex… and with almost anyone who’d also like to and, no, it doesn’t make a difference if they’re male, female, or even transgender because I have learned that you can have sex with anyone… if they want to. I do, in fact, have sex like a straight guy… and like a gay one… because it is what it’s always been: Having sex. Adjusting for those anatomical differences. Not exclusively being one way or the other and if you didn’t know that there really is something between straight and gay, now you know.

Society would have you more afraid of me than anyone else. I’m even scarier because you cannot look at me and tell that I’m bisexual because if you see me, I look like any other guy you’ve ever seen. You don’t and won’t know this about me unless I tell you or, if you’re like a lot of people I’ve run into, you’re intuitive and observant enough to know that, hmm, there’s something different about me – and if I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard that one… Elon Musk’s wealth would look like chump change.

But I’m not going to take any responsibility for someone thinking that I’m something that I haven’t been since I was eight years old. I know why they’d look at me and think, presume, or assume that I’m straight… because that’s the way we are mindfucked into believing everyone has to be. It’s not really your fault but, then again, it is if you keep believing something that, clearly, has never been true:

That everyone is straight. The truth we cannot accept is that not everyone wants to be or just being straight – or gay – isn’t what works for them. The truth that many start out being straight… and then they aren’t. And if you wanna know why they aren’t, you could ask them if you were that bold and forward… and they might lie to you. Not because they want to but because they have to. And they have to because we have pitched so much of a bitch about homosexuals – and we have been misidentified so many times that, yeah, we will even invoke the lie of omission because the truth could set you free in some very unpleasant ways.

Yes. If only we could get our collective heads out of our collective asses and just accept that not only are there such an animal as a bisexual, but it really is also okay for them to be and to the extent that hiding it is the thing that doesn’t make sense. You’re bisexual… so what? If you were just straight or gay, yeah, I might be worried about you but if you are, that’s okay, too… but I might secretly be worried about you and why you’re not with the program and like everyone else is.

The good thing is that day is coming. The bad thing is we ain’t there yet and, today, we very much need to be. Sooner is a hell of a lot better than later and if for no other reason that we can seriously get to eliminating all the problems and issues a lot of bisexuals have… and that keeps them in their self-made closets and continuing to be fearful. Bi guys are very real – duh. Just don’t assume that we’re gay… because we aren’t but, again, you can’t just look at us to see if we’re the type… because we look like any other guy you might see and, yeah – that guy over there acting like he’s a woman? He might not be 100% gay and, yeah, even he might lie to you about how he really likes to have sex because if he did, he risks being labeled as a traitor by other gay men and that, my friends, isn’t a joke or some shit I heard in passing given how many gay men I’ve known who had their “gay card” taken.

We are so weird about this. We are so institutionalized into not seeing the truth of what we can be, you know, if we want and need to. We know this to be true but are still stuck in that annoying black or white mode of thinking. You see me and if you think “straight dude,” well, you’re partially right but that’s what you’re supposed to think and see and if you wanna know if I really am straight – and because you have reason to think that I’m not, you could ask me… and I might even tell you. But, yes, there is a danger in asking; you could be wrong, or I just might lie to you and, hell, I might even act like I’m offended by the allegation – nah, I wouldn’t really do that.

Being able to avoid that faux pax where you see that hot babe over there and gather up the courage to hit on her and you do… and she rebuffs you because she doesn’t like men – she likes women – and then blowing her mind when you said, “I like women, too – so can I get that or what?” I learned that some women would tell this lie to get guys to go away and I say “lie” because she just might be bisexual and, well, being female and bisexual brings its own problems to a table that we need to get rid of.

We wouldn’t have to go through this shit if, again, we accept the reality and stop letting perception – and misperception – continue to blind us from the truth. I am and always have been bisexual… so what? So are a lot of men and women… what’s your point and do you really have one? It’s not my fault – and I’m not going to take any blame – for you being all fucked up over me being something that you don’t believe in. If I tell you I’m bi and you keep insisting that I’m really gay, well, that’s on you because, well, you can’t accept the truth. Or I’m not what you thought I was. I don’t look like the type. Yes, there’s something different about me… but it’s not that I’m gay.

I don’t act straight because, again, I am… until I do something that isn’t straight, and you best believe that I love doing things that aren’t considered to be straight. Do yourself a favor and don’t start pontificating and preaching to me about what you believe because I’ve heard it all before and, um, isn’t it obvious that I’ve rejected those notions in favor of the truth? And if you can’t handle it, that’s not my problem and you’d do well not to try to make it my problem.

That you have a problem with me not being what you thought I was… isn’t my fault. That’s society’s fault. You bought into it hook, line, and sinker but don’t feel bad because everyone does… until they find out the truth…. and sometimes, they find out the same way I did and, hmm, that’s really not bad at all.

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: 21 June 22

I was watching the Tampa Bay/Colorado Avalanche playoff game and catching up with a game on my iPad and one of those annoying in-game commercials came up about a new Spades game and my mind flashed back to 1978 and a moment where myself and five other bi guys were playing Spades and just having a good time hanging out.

The game was filled with “lying,” trash-talking and, well, the usual stuff that can take place during a game of Spades including guys getting set and taking shit because of that and, invariably, telling someone, “Fuck you!” or “Man, suck my dick!” and offers to do just that were made and lots of laughter as the next hand is being dealt.

I’m sitting on the side waiting to get into the next game and we got talking about how we got turned on to dick and when. This wasn’t the first time this topic came up between us, but I enjoyed the conversation just the same although, among the six of us, I’d been at it way longer than the rest of them – and they always made it a point to bust my ass about being OG and would jokingly say that I didn’t need to share my story or some other friendly jibe.

What was interesting – and what I remembered in the here and now – was one guy telling us that he started sucking dick because he felt that he could do it better than his girlfriend could. This was a new “revelation” and confession from him because the guy he sucked for the first time was sitting across the table from him and, well, we all knew that. I found his confession to be… curious because not only did I know his girlfriend, I had, um, had her before the two of them met and I was “confused” about what he said because she had sucked my dick – and sucked me off – several times and I deemed her to be very good at it.

Which made me wonder what was up with him in order for him to feel that he could do it better than she could which, when I would think about it the next day, uh, was that a legit reason to become a sucker of dicks? I was very familiar with guys getting into it because they wanted to know what it was like or, as one guy had said (again) that he had gotten sucked off by a guy and it just “made sense” to him to suck the guy off in return. I knew that some guys turned to getting sucked off by guys because women – or their woman – wasn’t having any of that which, as an aside, would get us talking about how women wanted us to eat them until they cum several times and that we’d better not move our face from down there until they finished having orgasms that way.

So many different reasons for a guy to wind up being a cocksucker but this was the first time I’d heard a guy say that he got into it… because he felt he could do it better and because this baffled me, I made it a point to keep an eye out for him so I could ask him about this. Back to the game for a moment.

Spades can be played for money and, well, all card games can be but the games we played would eventually get heated and instead of someone saying, “You wanna put some money on that?” it would be stated that whoever lost the hand… had to suck the dick of whoever won the hand. Finishing the job wasn’t part of the deal although, on quite a few occasions, it would happen and if you showed up because you really wanted to play Spades, um, hmm, it might be a while before the game picked up again and if it did at all.

Of course, some guys got da bizness about losing on purpose and that would start some good-natured heckling and, well, I didn’t really know about the rest of them, but I always looked forward to the six of us playing Spades because there was no telling what would be said… or what could happen. Three of the guys admitted that they agreed to the weekly game because it would legitimately get them out of the house… so they could get some dick and if their lady decided to check on their whereabouts – and some of them did – there was nothing said about him lying about where he was – with the fellas – and what he was doing – playing Spades.

They, uh, they just conveniently didn’t mention that the weekly get-together would often end with the six of us getting into a round-robin session of sucking dick or that, um, sometimes, we never got to actually playing. What didn’t surprise me a whole lot was something my wife told me one night after I came home from playing. She knew I was bi, and, per our agreement, I had to tell her if I’d had sex with any of the guys and she let me know that the women of the other five guys knew what went on during the game because, as she had said, they knew all too well what a bunch of guys could get into playing cards and drinking. None of them said that it was actually okay but allowed that the felt “better” about it because those guys weren’t running around fucking other women.

A couple of days later, I caught up with the guy who said what he did, and I asked him about it; I’d explain that I was very damned curious about it because it wasn’t even close to the things I knew about. Of course, what I didn’t mention to him was that I knew how good his girlfriend was at sucking dick because that would have started some shit that I thought was silly but, yeah, if there was a guy who’d had your woman before she was your woman, that would be the last guy you’d want to meet or know about.

I had asked him if he said what he did to “put some shit in the game” and/or trying to be… different from the other guys but he said, no, it really did occur to him that he could suck dick better than his girlfriend could but would, a bit later, confess that he had always wondered what it would be like to suck a guy and get him off which was the thing that got him to thinking that, yeah, he could do it better than she could and more so when he’d committed himself to sucking the guy off and, as I had suspected, lamenting over the fact that she had never sucked him off.

Okay – that made more sense to me, but it remained true that I had never heard a guy say what he did. While we’re sitting and talking about other stuff, I was going through my mind and remembering the many times I’d sucked a guy off and he’d tell me that I was just as good as – or way better – than any woman had done it. I had had to learn to not let this go to my head and get my ego all blown out of proportion because I’d seen guys who had and, well, let’s just say that things got really bad and ugly for them when they found out that they weren’t as good at it as they believed they were or as someone said.

I had learned that “better than a woman” wasn’t about the way a dick was sucked; it was all about sucking that nut out of the guy, gulping it down, and not complaining about it at all… and then being very willing to do it again provided homey could get it up again and even in this, “trying” to get him up again by sucking him tended to produce desirable results.

“How come me and you never went one-on-one?” he asked, jolting me out of my thoughts and memories.

“I dunno – I guess it never crossed our minds,” I said. Because of how our game would often turn out, it wasn’t like we never sucked each other but it did occur to me that we’d never sucked each other off. I had no thoughts one way or the other about his ability to suck dick but after hearing what he said about why he was sucking dick, I had to know what made him think that he was better than his girlfriend. I mean, in the “sparse” moments he would wind up blowing me, again, if I had to use a word, it would be… adequate but compared to what I knew about his girlfriend, uh, nope – he wasn’t better at it than she was but, again, we’d never gotten together without the other guys being around so that meant that I probably didn’t know what he was really capable of.

“Having said that, I don’t have anything to do and I’m at home by myself… so how about we go to my place and take care of that oversight?” I asked.

“I’m game,” he said and off we went. He was very nervous, and I had expected that as we stripped down in my living room; he was talking a mile a second as we undressed and saying over and over that it was about time, we did this without the others being involved. I’m thinking, “Yeah, okay, whatever…” with my eyes fixed on his erection which was pretty average in length and girth, and I was quite eager to do more to it than the “usual few sucks” that the game afforded.

“How you wanna do it?” he asked. I knew he was asking if we were going to take turns sucking each other or do it together in a 69 and I had no preference.

“Make it easy on yourself,” I said and pushing this decision back on him because, again, it didn’t make me one bit of difference how we did it… as long as we did, and I got to finish him and get the full measure of how he’d finish me. I will admit, at this point, that I had had it firmly in my head how his girlfriend would suck and get me off; she wasn’t the “best of all time” but, again, she was very good at it so in my head, he was “on trial” and all because of what he had said… and he was going to be judged. I will also admit at this point that this was a… mistake on my part.

He decided that he wanted me to do him first, then he’d do me. Fine with me. He got arranged on the sofa and I got into place… and got to work on him. He tasted and felt familiar, but I was going to “pull out all the stops” on him. I spent some time “nibbling” on him and not really trying to take all of him down and he was… different but I could account for that because you just behave differently when you’re in a group of guys who are also watching what’s going on with you or, if you’re about to get in a groove, another guy would jump in and now you had to… reset and readjust to a different way of being sucked.

He was more… expressive. Animated. I took him deep and… he lost it. You would have thought that I’d shoved a finger in his ass! I had to hold him down and the “evil” part of me kept taking him deep and holding him there while enjoying his pleas for mercy and even telling me not to make him cum… which was silly because why did he think we were doing this? I got deep into sucking him and, yes, I did get around to sticking a finger in him – not deep but enough for him to know that I was invading him whether he liked it or not… and he must’ve liked it because he didn’t demand an immediate withdrawal.

Maybe he couldn’t because maybe a minute after I inserted my finger into him, he cried out, “Holy motherfucking shit!” and exploded in my mouth… and found out why she wasn’t sucking him off. His cum was thin and watery; it was very salty and bitter and, ugh, not pleasant at all. I bore up holding his nasty-tasting shit in my mouth until he was finished – then let it flow gratefully out of my mouth. It was so nasty that as I let him fall out of my mouth, I was thinking about a trip to the bathroom and hitting the bottle of Scope seriously hard so I could get the taste of his cum out of my mouth… but that would have been rude, and it was all I could do to keep a look of disgust off my face.

He’s happy and telling me that I was better than he had originally thought and that my reputation was valid and well-earned; that told me that one of the other guys had told him about how I sucked and got them off. Fine – that was to be expected but now it was his turn to show me why he thought he was better than she was at it. I got arranged and he got into place and just as he got settled, something made me say, “Don’t hold anything back!” He just nodded, wrapped a hand around my dick (his palm was quite sweaty and cold); he’s looking at my dick like it was going to bite him or something and he got started.

At first, it was as I remembered in those “quick” moments; his mouth was nicely wet, and he made it a point to keep his teeth out of the way, but he was… tentative. Almost like he wasn’t sure or confident now that he had my dick all to himself. It wasn’t… bad but in comparison to his girl, so far, he had nothing on her, but I knew I had to wait and see how it all turned out. He could only take so much of me in before his gag reflex kicked in and I was very concerned that he might barf on me (as well as all over the sofa and I’d have to clean it up). I gave him… points for trying to get more of me down and took those points away because I was telling him how to get more of me down and he wasn’t listening, and I had to not be… annoyed.

It was bad enough that I wasn’t allowing myself to be in the moment because I was too busy comparing him to her in my head but, again, I wouldn’t realize this until well after the fact. Still, he was into it, and I did realize and acknowledge that he was doing the best he could. I… helped him out by gently fucking into his mouth, which he liked and I actually grabbed one of his hands, sucked on his index finger to get it nice and wet, and got him to put his whole finger in my ass so he could finger fuck me. That got me more into the moment and getting me on my way to cumming… but it took a while for him to get me there and over the edge.

I had that “Oh, shit!” expression as my dick swelled and started pumping… and he was having a problem. Now, I didn’t expect him to swallow but it was like he didn’t know what to do with my cum in his mouth and I would later think that he didn’t do a lot of swallowing because of the way he was gagging and getting “chipmunk cheeks” and, well, he didn’t handle it all that well.

And definitely not as good as his girl could and did. Don’t get me wrong here; it was… okay. He had admitted that it wasn’t really his best effort since this was really the first time for him getting me off and I’m not going to pretend that I knew or understood why I said, “Well, ain’t it a good thing that you’ll have another chance?” and followed by me manhandling him into place so I could suck him off again and not just because I felt… unsatisfied so much. Maybe his bad tasting shit was because he hadn’t busted a nut recently? And I felt… “angrily compelled” to show him how to really get after sucking a dick.

That evil side of me was howling in glee listening to him calling on God, Jesus, his mom, and anyone else he though was going to save him; it howled as he tried to get away from me as I imposed my will upon him and, yeah, something I’d feel bad about later but at the time, I had no sympathy for him at all. That he was on his second wind wasn’t something I’d say worked in his favor because it just gave me more time to work him over until he was able to cum and the evil part of me was beyond happy when his whole body just froze up in that odd moment of paralysis that can be experienced and the only thing moving was his dick pumping in my mouth. His cum… tasted a little better but it was even thinner and watery, still very salty but some of the bitterness was absent and this time I did swallow it and, I would later guess, to show him how stupidly easy it was to swallow cum.

I pretty much wore him out… but that’s what I wanted to do and in this, I learned more about myself than I did about him and the important thing I learned was that I had sucked him off twice… for the wrong reasons. I hadn’t expected him to suck me off again, but I also hadn’t expected him to offer me his ass so I could cum a second time, and I told him that it wasn’t necessary; it wasn’t that I didn’t “feel like” fucking him but I didn’t feel like getting up to get some lube and, yes, a condom – but I didn’t tell him that part.

“Jesus Christ, you are a beast!” he said once he got his shit together. “I mean, I guess I should have known that since you’ve been doing this since you were a kid but, damn, man – you are seriously good doing this!”

“I’m glad you liked it,” I said, and I meant it, but I was also feeling… sarcastic which was very much beneath me; I was going to have a long conversation with myself later on.

“Shit, damn, you took me to school!” he said, continuing to sing my praises but I didn’t think that I deserved them and, well, that conversation was going to be intense later on. “I hate to say it, but you put my lady to shame!”

I almost told him that I knew I wasn’t as good as it as she was and that I had learned some stuff about sucking dick from her that just made me… better. Not the best, mind you, but, yeah, I could suck a very mean dick and I’d had too many guys tell me too many times that I was way better than the women who’d ever sucked them. I took this with a grain or six or seven grains of salt, but you can tell if a guy is lying about how good you sucked him because his body is going to tell you what his words won’t.

As to him being able to do it better than his girlfriend? No, and not even close. HIs nasty-tasting cum notwithstanding, he lacked… passion. He lacked that… focus that the best cocksuckers have that’s not all that technique driven. He couldn’t or wouldn’t “follow instructions” like me trying to tell him how to take me deeper without gagging and, well, his girl didn’t need to be instructed at all. He lacked… confidence, I felt. It’s not being confident about being able to make a guy cum but being confident knowing that you’re going to do whatever it takes to make him cum and not being worried about any of it.

The mistake I made was thinking about all of this when the only thing I should have been thinking about was just enjoying whatever he was able to do. The other mistake was me imposing my will upon him going after him a second time. Now, it wasn’t like I’d never went back for seconds on a guy, but it wasn’t because I “had fun” doing it the first time. Well, I did, but kinda/sorta not really since I was thinking that his bad tasting cum could have been a “fluke.” In my head, there had to be a reason why she wasn’t sucking him off and, well, that would most certainly do it and I was now sure that she had found out how bad his shit tasted from a woman who had sucked him off and had warned her not to.

He’s still talking to me and I’m hearing him but not hearing him; I’m deep inside my own head but watching him lying there and absently playing with his dick and balls. He got my full attention when I heard him say, “I wish I could take a dick deep like you can – you make that shit look easy!”

So I decided to show him how to do it… by doing it. Oh, my – how he protested! He was too sensitive! Really sure he wasn’t going to get it up again but his body made him a liar because as I sucked his formerly soft dick nice and deep, I could feel it stirring into hardness again and I was more than happy to, ah, encourage it to get hard. I made it a point to make eye contact with him every time I took him deep and as if to “say” to him, “This is how you do it. You go nice and easy and you breathe through your nose.” – and I illustrated this by letting him really hear that I was breathing through my nose. I illustrated how to get your tongue out of the way and all that while, never taking my eyes off of him. Yeah, I could have stopped at certain points to tell him what I was doing but I felt it was better for him to see and feel it and, well, he should have gotten up and dressed instead of continuing to lie there and playing with himself even if he wasn’t aware that he was doing it.

It didn’t take me long to get him to cum and while I did enjoy feeling his dick pumping in my mouth, I was really happy that he didn’t have much cum left to give and, as such, I didn’t have to taste it as I gulped it down. I sat up and I was still eyeballing him and his reaction – his body language – told me that I’d put a bit of… fear into him because I was sure he didn’t know it could be like this and maybe letting him know that there would be guys who would to this… and then some.

The message I had hoped to convey is that if you think you can suck dick better than a woman can, then, damn it, suck dick like you really want to be better than a woman and, importantly, don’t ever disillusion yourself into thinking that you can do it better or that you’re “all that” at it. If you ain’t gonna do it with meaning and feeling, well, you’d better learn how to if you really want to earn the accolades of being better at it than women can be… and that includes being humble and getting humbled knowing that you’re not as good as you think you are then sucking as many dicks as you can so that you can really be better at it. No being tentative or hesitant and that, to me, means being supremely confident that you can take that dick in your mouth and no matter its shape or size.

You have to know that you can… more than just thinking you can.

He’s lying there and nodding off and I let him snooze for a moment before waking him up. As he regained his awareness – and the evil part of me felt good knowing that he knew I had taken him to the limit and beyond – I wondered if he was… properly humbled. Taken to school to learn how to suck a dick. That maybe he wasn’t as better at it as he presumed his lady wasn’t. I could have told him that he wasn’t even close but, again, that would have started some shit that I didn’t want to be bothered with. Yeah, I had her and more than a couple of times. It wasn’t serious – it was just sex and I’d love to think that I had impressed her with my pussy-eating skills but whatever her reason for having sex with me for a few months didn’t matter as much as the fact that we were doing it.

I loved the way she sucked me. With great skill and passion and determination and being true to her word the first time she told me that she wanted to suck me off and that’s all she was going to do… for now. She had sucked me off more than I had fucked her, but I would understand that sucking dick and taking a guy’s cum was seriously her thing. Indeed, she’s the reason why I would later say that anyone can fuck… but not everyone can suck a dick (or eat a pussy).

Just wasn’t going to tell him that but maybe he learned something about himself as well. At the next Spades game, I could tell he was… different. He’d lost a hand to one of the guys and had to suck him and I watched to see if he’d “learned” anything from being with me and, it seemed like he did and even the guy he was sucking had a bit of a surprised look on his face because he’d noticed how different it was. What I did notice was that he… stayed away from me and that didn’t go unnoticed by the other guys.

One guy asked me, “What did you do to him?”

“What makes you think I did anything to him?” I asked with mock innocence.

“Because homey is looking like he’s scared of you,” the guy said. “I’m thinking he knows the same thing I do about you – tell me I’m wrong!”

“I plead the fifth,” I said, knowing that the guy wasn’t going to believe that dodge.

“Yeah, you did him up,” the guy said. “Shit, I could have told him not to test you!”

Indeed, he could have but that wasn’t really the point. Early in this, I had said that I learned to not let “being good” at this go to my head because, as my mom would sometimes say, “Pride goeth before the fall…” and, well, I learned a lot of nonsexual lessons about that one and the most important one being that there’s always someone out there better than you are.

“If I had to speak to it, I’d say that out of the six of us, you’re the best at it,” he was saying.

“I bet you say that to all the guys,” I said. “You know that I’m just and always going to do the best I can and I ain’t promising shit or bragging about it. I love doing it, so I just do it and if y’all like it, that works.”

Even I had found out how fucked up it feels to be told that, eh, you weren’t that good and the way to avoid this very hurtful and painful feeling… is to be better. Not better than anyone else but merely being the best you can be because if you’re not going to aim for this, why are you sucking dick?

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: 20 June 22

I just read in the news that Texas Republicans have declared that homosexuality is abnormal, and my first thought was, “Do they think this is the 1950s?” Then again, Texas has had a history of doing shit like this and like they’re not a part of the US – including always voting to secede from the Union.

How does this affect bisexuals or even homosexuals? On the surface, it can’t because it’s a stupid notion with a clear political motive which seems to be to take the US back to the 1950s which so many believed, then and now, was a time when things went the way they were supposed to be and TV shows like “Leave it to Beaver” were held up as prime examples of what it meant to be American and the standards that were so highly prized and valued.

While many politicians talk about the future and moving forward, it seems to me that the Republican Party wants to go… backwards. In a way – and I hate to say it, but I will – it makes sense given that in the 1950s, we were, hands down, the greatest country in the world even though the politicians of the time were still fucking shit up… because that’s what they do when they try to shape the country and its peoples in their image and even when that image is fairly cockeyed or unrealistic.

Now, I’m sure there will be people who might see the news article I saw and they’re going to be 100% onboard with a sentiment that we long since proved isn’t as abnormal as we once believed it was and I even mentioned yesterday that back in 1973-74, homosexuality was removed from the official list of mental illnesses. Those Texas Republicans, I dunno, I guess they believe that if they say this, that makes it true and that we should believe what they say, and the sad part is that a lot of people are going to do just that and accept their spin-doctored “proof” as the gospel truth.

Having grown up with the Moral Majority “in charge” of things taught me how insular and even naive some people can be and their emphasis on being God-fearing people who should always believe in what God said in the Old Testament was pretty invasive and misguided and pretty much using fear to keep everyone in control and in line with those beliefs even as, from my perspective, their grip on things was starting to falter and loosen. The Moral Majority lost their shit when a renewed sexual revolution – aka “The Summer of Love – hopped off and people were having sex willy-nilly and with anyone. Committing the sin of fornication; men lying with men, women lying with women – and those unimaginable folks who’d lie with anyone, male or female – and, gasp, racial intermingling!

That we got away from the moral standards upon which the Moral Majority stood upon, as I would learn, was just us… evolving. Changing and, for me, understanding that the way it’s supposed to be – and as our morality said – just wasn’t the way it could be. Politically – and as I would also come to understand – it seemed to me that Republicans were very averse to change… unless it was a change that benefitted them more than it did anyone else and it doesn’t seem to me that their rhetoric has changed a whole lot in that they… want to “play God” and shape us in their image but one that had its time and is long gone and, perhaps, not understanding that there’s no going back to the “good old days.”

Even though I come from a family that has always been Democrats, when I was old enough to vote, I weighed what I knew about both parties and, well, the GOP just didn’t agree with my view of the world and one, I might add, my bisexuality had a lot to do with. They were about not changing anything and, yep, being stuck back in the 1950s while bitching about being progressive and going with the flow of things. I decided to be a Democrat and, probably, a good thing in the long run because I’d never heard anyone in my family say anything good about Republicans even though, in our state government, we had Republican governors and Members of Congress that weren’t all stodgy or reflecting the Republican Party rhetoric and, as such, served the people of my home state well and honorably.

Sexuality doesn’t much give a fuck about politics, but it took a lot of very political shit for homosexuals to be treated like the everyone else they’ve always been and while this landmark political decision was well accepted, there were the holdovers to the way things are supposed to be and it didn’t surprise me that many of them were… Republicans. What remained of the Moral Majority that once held great sway over everyone in this country and now, with bisexuality moving closer to being a political issue, I’m really not surprised to have seen what I did today and that Texas continues to make such decisions for Texans and not all of them are onboard with their “usual” nonsense.

My late son-in-law – and a man who was also bisexual – would sometimes lose his shit over the stuff their Republican governor would do and even more over what he wasn’t doing that was in-line with what the rest of the country was doing. He had said, “Those who use fear to remain in control are fearful of losing that control and they have to use more fear in order to keep it…” and I thought, wow, that was pretty eloquent and profound of him putting it like that… but he wasn’t wrong.

I haven’t gone on Facebook or Twitter yet, but I can imagine there’s some… shit being said and flung around about this unilateral decision made by Texan Republicans because they decided that homosexuality is abnormal, and it won’t take a whole lot for this insanity to include bisexuality. This declaration is, to me, just more proof of how people continue to believe something that we have also proved to be incorrect and the mere fact that homosexuals exist at all totally disproves the abnormality being said – again, by the way, because this is how it was thought to be way back in the 1950s.

On the surface, eh, these motherfuckers are insanely talking out of their ass; this is 2022 so get with the program already. However, this announcement is going to cause a tidal wave of dissent and powered by Republican Party beliefs that, at least to me, are still stuck way back in the good old days and I’m thinking that they will do and say whatever they have to in order to impose their will on everyone else in the country and the bad part is… there are still people who’s going to believe them.

Now it’s a question of whether or not anyone who isn’t straight should be bothered by this. In a very apolitical way, I say, “Whatever; y’all ain’t happy unless you’re trying to fuck shit up for everyone and this bullshit is no different and even stinkier when you still believe that Trump won the election, and it was stolen from him. I’ll admit that this is some scary shit and shit that I grew up being exposed to and because the Moral Majority, again, was the self-appointed guardians of morality (or whatever), all they’re doing is rehashing and trying to revive a moral position that we’ve moved away from and necessarily so because, um, homo- and bisexuality aren’t abnormal but it has never failed to amaze me how the Republican Party likes to “put the fear of God” into everyone and totally overlooking the fact that, well, a lot of us – and regardless to sexuality – ain’t buying into it even under the premises of that was then, and this is now.

They believe that they’re right about this. They want this country to go back to the way it used to be and, yes, when the Moral Majority was very much alive and well and, well, hmm, methinks they’re just pissed off that they long since lost the control over us that they enjoyed for as long as they did. So instead of them “getting over it” and getting with the rest of the world that’s trying to progress, they want to keep the negativity going and to once more make people fearful of something that, intelligently, they shouldn’t have any fear of. That this has, once again, become a political stick to beat us with – or they’re trying to beat us with it again – says some pretty sorry shit about what we continue to believe while in the face of a reality that they cannot seem to accept.

And continuing to not understand that this… shit didn’t work before so what makes them think that it’s going to work again and in the here and now? I remember reading some stuff when bisexuality was declared to be real where a lot of people were talking about morality being lost, eroded, and even destroyed and the scary part to me was that they were very serious and very afraid that this is what’s happening and the scariest person there is… is the one who is afraid of something because there’s no telling what they’re going to do but history has proven that whatever that might be, it’s not going to be good.

I can remember too many times people asking me if I have any morals and assuming that I don’t because I’m bisexual and getting sick and tired of trying to tell them that, yes, I do have morals despite my sexuality and, well, they weren’t trying to hear any of that because it ran counter to what they believed to be true and, well, it’s not true. It’s never been true. Those poor souls would rant and rave and threaten and get all pissy and salty because I didn’t agree with their beliefs but not see that we have been having this Sexuality War since way back when… and it has consistently failed to make everyone be and stay straight.

This isn’t so much a political thing but just… more of the same. The continued belief and adherence to something that isn’t so much a lie as it is – and always has been – incorrect. This statement exposes the hypocrisy of this being a “free country” when there are still people who believe that, yes, you have the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness… as long as you’re doing it the way you’re being told to and as dictated by the Moral Majority. We based this country upon the establishment of inalienable human rights but, at the same time, infringed upon those rights when they didn’t conform to the way it’s supposed to be and, again, as dictated by a Moral Majority. Invoking the name of God and interpretations of the Old Testament that serves to be a stick to beat anyone who isn’t like them with but, yeah, this is the way we’ve always been as a species: If you’re not like us, you’re against us and you will be dealt with.

This is just… additional Republican rhetoric that adds on to the other shit they’ve been talking about that was very much in the heyday of the 1950s and as far as what women could and couldn’t do about, with, and for their own bodies and it’s a matter of public records that the Republican Party has been trying to overturn Roe v. Wade and making it a continued bone of contention in every election that I’ve been aware of but, again, this just isn’t a political thing – this is really us trying to keep things the way they were and not having anything to do with the fact that if we were meant to be stuck in the past, we’d still be there and none of this fearmongering would be taking place but as in any of this…

Reality has something very different to say. Methinks there are going to be a lot of homo- and bisexuals who are gonna lose their shit over what Texan Republicans had to say and I also think that if they let this shit fuck with them… they win. They believe that they have the God-given right to tell us how we can’t be and, well, I believe they’re seriously out of touch with reality or, as many of us have said over all of this time, “If God didn’t mean for me to be this way, I wouldn’t be this way.” It’s not a departure or the “death” of morality as it is being redefined; it’s a change that a lot of people all over the world don’t want to happen but are actually powerless to prevent… but it doesn’t meant that they’re not going to try just the same to eradicate a sociosexual behavior that, oh, yeah, they’ve always failed to eradicate.

Those Texan Republicans are, in effect, telling us that we do not have the right to be the way we want and need to be. Homosexuality isn’t abnormal but thinking that it is – and because of the belief that it is – well, methinks that’s a lot more abnormal and more proof of how utterly insane we can be to, yep, keep doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result and one that has never matched reality. Political clout is, once again, being used as a stick to beat us all into compliance to the way they want us to be and, well, let’s see how that works for them this time around.

Those who fail to learn from history are always doomed to repeat it and it once again makes me ask and wonder if this trip is really necessary. I don’t say this because of my political affiliation; I say this because, well, as a bisexual, duh, I know the truth and reality of things and the hypocrisy of what politicians get all into given their proclivity to be… immoral and “inappropriate” more than the people they’re supposed to be representing could ever be.

And why anyone would listen to these folks is beyond me, but I know many will and the fearmongering will continue because of the attempt to prey on their fears or, if you’re not afraid, they’re going to make you afraid… and that cannot be allowed. We already lived through this shit once and going through it again is just… insane. We have been seeing where politicians tend to do… stuff based more on their own beliefs than listening to what the people who elected them wants them to do and say on their behalf but, yeah, it stopped being about representation and it’s all about what they think and what they believe and for Texans, well, y’all better believe them when they say that homosexuality is abnormal.

Don’t much know why they’d believe something that reality has proven to not be abnormal at all. Should we, as homo- and bisexuals be worried about this? Nope because no matter what they say about it being abnormal, it has changed… nothing. Texan homosexuals are still homosexual and regardless to political affiliation and will continue to be… because life goes on and there’s no going back to the way things used to be…

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: 19 June 22

Because I’d found myself either talking to guys about sex with other guys and/or introducing them to it, one of the things I had started noticing was the number of guys who, say, until that exact moment, never gave any thought about this versus the guys who would confess that they’d been thinking about it and for a long time but were just now talking about it or they finally “got up the nerve” to do whatever they’d been thinking about and for however long they had been.

I got to understand some stuff about this, and it fascinated me because having any “prior thoughts” about doing it with a boy were absent in me; I’d gotten tossed into the pool and in that moment, wow, talk about something being terribly exciting! I would, over time, see that some guys got tossed on in to sink or swim, some guys would be so desperate for sex and to the point that masturbation only served to frustrate them and didn’t even take the edge off of their horniness and the “phenomenon” of a guy who didn’t have a single thought about sex with boys would suddenly “know” that if they couldn’t do it to a girl and beating their meat wasn’t helping, having sex with a guy just made sense.

Then there were the guys who, again, said that they’d been thinking about this for “the longest time.” Many of them could speak to the moment when they started thinking about it and many of them said that it just “popped” into their head that sucking dick and/or fucking with a guy was something they had to do. The thing that perplexed me was… what made this pop into their head to begin with? Now, growing up, we’d been told not to even think about this, and I felt that it was like that “mental trick” of telling someone to not think about elephants and now they’re thinking about elephants. I’d learn some stuff about the power of suggestion and how some people are more susceptible than others to this but, okay, maybe because we were told to never have sex with boys, it either stuck in our heads like that or it had the opposite effect.

However, that didn’t explain guys who got this into their head and had never heard anything about not doing it. I would grow up to learn about the nature versus nurture argument that had come up because of homosexuality and I’d get to understand that the environment we grew up in could be conducive to homosexual behavior or prevent – or even delay – such thoughts and behaviors and “nurture” made sense but, again, it didn’t explain how guys in environments where such things never happened (and for various reasons) would get it into their head that having sex with a boy was something they had to do. It didn’t mean that they were really homosexual or latently so but in this, eh, I’d set this aspect aside to focus on how and why this thought would appear at all.

I got to looking into the nature side of the argument and, well, hmm – lot of instances of homo- and bisexuality in the animal kingdom and humans are a part of this kingdom so such thoughts occurring naturally made sense and more so when homosexuals were letting everyone know that they were born the way they are and didn’t have any choice in the matter. I would think, “They might be on to something…” and agreed, in part, that we all are born with the potential to adopt our own sexuality, but social programming was designed to “head this off at the pass” and sometimes it did – or it just delayed the inevitable – or it just never stuck. Choice, well, I’ve had some good “arguments” about that one with homosexuals; we might not choose to have the feelings we have but we do, ultimately, choose what to do about them even if the available choice was to like whatever sexual experience they may have had or to dislike and reject it.

But that a lot of homosexuals insisted that they were born this way did give me some insight into how this could just… show up in a guy’s mind or they’d say that they just knew that they felt pretty much the same way about boys as they would about girls. For the longest time, the “nature or nurture” argument was making the rounds with both side insisting that their position was the right one, but I was learning that both could be responsible for someone “being” bisexual in thought if not in action so much.

I get to read how the guys on the forum got to be bisexual and there are so many of them who said that before they actually got around to doing something, it had been on their mind first and even then, they’d talk about how they resisted their thoughts and feelings and in favor of what “men are supposed to do” – be only involved with women. I would go to college and wind up having to take classes in psychology and, initially, I thought, “What a waste of time – I’m here to learn about computers!” but I had to take the class… and wound up be very glad that I did because one of the things we talked about in our Abnormal Psychology class was… sexuality and even that both homosexuality and masturbation had “just recently” been removed from the official list of mental illnesses.

And then, there was always this: Nine out of ten new guys I introduced to this said that it felt right and normal to them and sometimes, the actual sex served to confirm what, well, what they already knew… but how did they know? Had they heard about it and were curious? Maybe saw it happen with other guys? How did a guy who was sheltered from all of this sex stuff know that, hmm, if he were to have sex with a guy, that would be wonderful and fantastic?

Yeah… I was making myself crazy trying to figure this out but every time I decided to not think so much about this, I would invariably run into a guy who wanted to know why he had this great urge to have sex with a guy and an urge that, to them, came out of nowhere. I could tell him what I’d learned (to that point in time) but it seemed to me that we really are born to be this way, social conditioning and religion prohibits it and all that but, yeah, it seemed to me that all that stuff we’re taught and talked about what men do – sexually – and what we should never do just got… overridden or, like one guy had told me, “Everything my parents said about this went in one ear and right out the other because I somehow knew that they were wrong.”

Even back in the day, men had a bad rep because it was said that boys and men would fuck “anything that wasn’t moving” or it didn’t make a difference if the person they fucked was wearing pants or a dress and other such stuff. I would eventually learn that our… perpetual horniness is hard-wired into us because our “job” in nature is to get females pregnant and the more we can do this serves to perpetuate the existence of the human species. That made sense to me and given how many of the girls I grew up with were warned not to have sex with boys because if they did, they’d get pregnant and just as we were told to stay away from girls – and especially the Hot in the Ass girls – because if we got them pregnant, we’d be in serious trouble and right along with them.

Kid logic said that if you can’t have sex with a girl because she could get pregnant, having sex with a boy eliminated that risk and trouble. But, to me, it was like that power of suggestion thing I mentioned; don’t even think about having sex with a boy meant that we should have sex with a boy and even I felt that doing so felt… normal. Like we were supposed to.

A guy would ask me, “Why do I want to have sex with you?” and the question would shock and surprise me and I had no answer other than, “Um, because you want to?” Or I’d be talking to a guy, and he’d tell me that he’s been “dreaming” about sucking cock or being fucked by a guy and they didn’t know why they had these thoughts and feelings or where they even came from. Did I know what he was talking about? Yes. Did I know why? Hell, no.

For me, I’d like to think that I would have preferred to accept any of this as “face value” and call it a day but, nope – too many guys either talking about this or wanting to find out what it was like but them not knowing why they wanted or needed to do this “prevented” me from thinking in “face value” ways and more so when most of the guys I’d be involved with in some way over this were very concerned and even troubled by it. I’d learn about the conflict that takes place between what we’re taught and what’s really going on somewhere inside of us and, sometimes, that would serve to explain why they were feeling the way they did and, yeah, why we were a few short minutes away from him finding out what it’s like; for some, the sex would “resolve” the conflict and for some it created a new conflict: They did it, they liked it, but they weren’t supposed to.

For those guys who were desperate, that they were down to the last available choice made sense, but I would learn that a lot of those guys already knew that there were guys who had sex with other guys – aka gay guys. Worries/fears about being gay abounded but that need to get laid, more often than not, overrode those worries and fears or, as one guy said right before he went down on me, “I’ll worry about that later…” I did, however, have a very hard time trying to explain how his being desperate got him to thinking that it would be okay to do it with a guy… when they never had such thoughts in their head before, or, actually, as it pertained to them. If they knew a guy who’d done it with a guy, well, that was them, right?

My thoughts turned to something I’d seen the “Twitter Advocates” say at times, that we were, indeed, born bisexual and we didn’t have any choice in the matter and, yep, I’d heard this one before… and I knew it wasn’t the answer because being born with the potential to be bisexual was one thing but stuff like nature versus nurture would often determine how someone choose to accept these feelings and/or do something about them and there were other, more social, reasons why a guy would “suddenly” decide that having sex with a guy just might be a good thing and, yeah, that thought would come out of the blue as far as they were concerned… and I had no explanation of why that happened… other than maybe, just maybe, this was already “pre-programmed” into us.

Sometimes it went “active” early on or was made to go active or sometimes it just sits back in the cut for years or even decades before going live and then, in some cases, due to external stuff more than some… intuitive understanding, like, how you seem to know something but not know how you know it. I used to say that a guy just didn’t wake up one morning and decided that today would be a good day to suck a dick… until I found out that, yeah, they can and, again, sometimes, they didn’t know why they knew it would be a good day to do this.

Neither do I. It’s the way we, as men – and even women – can be; sometimes it’s because we hear so much about how bad this is – and how fucked up it is to be gay – that our intelligence just says, “It can’t be that bad if there are gay people who have sex like this!” and, um, then that inexplicable urge to find out for one’s self or some other external thing “pushes” them in this direction up to and including being emotionally stressed. Like, I would be hanging with a guy and he is obviously and seriously stressed about, say, not being able to find a job and people busting his ass because he wasn’t working and I would know that what would make him feel better, if only for a moment, was for me to suck his dick or, if he didn’t mind, fuck me… and the first time that one hit me surprised the shit out of me, not only because it had come out of nowhere… but it made sense.

Guys would say, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me!” and sometimes – and because I knew what would take their mind off of their troubles – I’d say, “Maybe you need to get laid…” and then see – and, yeah, hope that he’d get it into his head that if he were, let’s say, allow me to suck his dick, that would be a good thing. Then I’d get surprised the first time that actually worked when it shouldn’t have. Was it the power of suggestion? Did my saying this create a “link” in his mind that told him that, yeah, that’s the ticket and doing it right now and with me, well, that’d be a good thing even though it’s a bad thing?

Damned if I know but it would happen, and the guy would say what I’d heard a lot of guys say: That wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be! Why didn’t I do this before now? What was I afraid of? But the one that would throw me for a loop time and time again: “I don’t know why I wanted to do this!”

That’s okay, homey – I don’t know either; I just know it can happen like this given how many times I’ve actually seen it happen and, yeah, how many times guys came to me with this to either talk about it… or get naked and do it and the way I would “bottom line it” was because it had to be done and as evidenced by the guys who would tell me how much better they felt now that they finally got around to doing it because it had been stuck in their head for the longest time.

I sometimes think that some folks believe that guys become bisexual just because they’re horny and that’s merely a part of the truth – but a truth I don’t ever pretend to fully understand. Yeah, I’ve been around guys who have said that they’re so goddamned horny that they’d have sex with a guy, and I’ve wondered if they said it because they knew about it already or did it “just occur” to them? Didn’t know and still don’t really know but it fascinated the daylights out of me to see how a guy’s thought processes could “easily” go from “you better not ever do this” to “I need to do this and now would be a good time rather than later.”

Some say it’s all and just about the sex and there are no other feelings involved other than lust and they’d be right about that and not so much because of the times I’ve had a guy tell me that, nah, he wouldn’t actually do it, but he felt that it would be “right” if he did or some other sentiment that would – and like much of this tended to do – present me with more questions than answers. One of the perpetual forum questions asked is how you knew you were bi; some guys say they knew that they were and many of them found out by doing; some knew they were at a young age, but many didn’t get their head around it until they were older but many of them were also in an environment that exposed them to dicks and asses… and some and, perhaps, many grew up in environments where modesty ruled the roost and the way boys/men are supposed to be about having sex – with women only – was the prevailing and insisted-upon school of thought and behavior.

Ya damned well knew that you aren’t supposed to have these thoughts and, yeah, feelings toward other guys but you had/have them just the same even if you didn’t understand why you did and I’ve met so many men who fell into this category and when they asked why, the only answer I could come up with was… because we’re all human and it’s just how we can be. It would eventually seem to me that so many men (and women) would say that it felt right to them because it is right and society’s thoughts about this be damned. We’re human and we are social animals and there’s that biological imperative to “go ye forth and multiple” but even when, um, we can go forth and there will be no multiplying, not because of any direct defiance of the way it’s supposed to be but… knowing the way it can be, you know, if ya want to.

It feels right to be bisexual because it probably and really is right. There is always… choice. You chose to do… or do not and I’ve seen too many men and women who, initially, chose to do not change their minds to doing because, well, it made sense to them in some way or, “How bad can it really be?” And then, I’d say, intuitively, knowing that it’s not bad but that decision usually proves itself out after the fact and now it’s decision time: Did ya like it or did ya not like it? Yeah, that one tends to mess with people and in that “yeah, but” way but that’s just that internalized conflict happening that’s making you feel some kind of way about doing something you were told never to do. Okay – can you tell me how it felt good but, at the same time, I didn’t? It felt good to cum but, eh, it wasn’t all that? How does that work?

I’ve heard guys say that, eh, it wasn’t all that and they’d never do it again, but it still felt right to do it. And some of them would do it again because, well, why not? Maybe it’ll be better this time or, as many would come to realize, just because it wasn’t “good” the first time didn’t mean it would not be good the next time – and now there’s the choice/decision about whether or not there will be a next time or not.

My favorite folks are the ones who say that it’s not something they’d do all of the time or that they don’t need to do it and, usually, any more than they may have already done… but that the ingrained fear of being gay that’s talking more than anything else but, hmm, there still has to be something about it because aren’t there a lot of gay people in the world?

And even more bisexuals? How one gets from Point A to Point B in this… varies but what remains is that many men and women do arrive at Point B and sometimes, not knowing why they made the trip or even wanted to, and I think it’s because we are well and truly more human than we’re supposed to be under the rules of moral rightness and all that.

Seemed like a good idea at the time… and I still don’t pretend to understand this one at all.

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: 18 June 22

A little while ago, MissD, a blogger I followed, wrote a blog about an event that she describes as summer camp for adults but kinky (https://missusmistress.wordpress.com/2022/06/16/its-like-summer-camp-for-kinky-adults/) and my immediate thought upon seeing the title was that, for me, summer camp was always a “kinky” affair given that I would find myself ensconced in a camp, many miles away from home, for up to a month, with a lot of kids who were my age and older… and horny as all get out… and not having much in the way of shame about taking care of it.

It’s no wonder that I always looked forward to going to summer camp. I would kid myself and say that I couldn’t wait to go because it would get me out of my day-to-day stuff, being around my parents and siblings (except the few times they were sent right along with me) and being able to do stuff that could only be done at summer camp. Later on in life, I would realize that, yeah, I was telling the truth to myself – just not all of it because if there was one thing I could count on, it was that I’d be getting laid and usually with other guys; the camp made it very difficult to (pardon me) get some pussy but it could be done albeit at great risk of discovery.

Ah, but because counselors and camp officials were focused on keeping the boys away from the girls as much as possible, that meant that they weren’t paying us that kind of attention, you know, other than making sure that the more injury-prone of us didn’t get injured. Otherwise? Every year I went there proved, time and time again, that there would be guys who wanted to know what it was like to have sex with a boy and many more guys who, like me, were “old hands” at it and more than willing to show a new guy the ropes.

Talk about a “target-rich environment!” One of the things going to camp taught me was that when it came to liking sex with boys, it was much bigger than where I lived. I went from thinking that I was the only one like this to realizing (all late and wrong) that I wasn’t and that most of the guys in my neighborhood were like me; then on to seeing a “bigger picture” where living in the city was concerned but with this camp being out of state, I would meet kids from all over the East Coast and as early as my first year there, would learn that liking sex with guys wasn’t the “local phenomenon” I had believed it to be.

And the continued “surprise” at how many white guys loved having sex with guys or, heh, if they came there not knowing about it or liking it, they left with a different perspective. I would better know and understand that if you “isolate” a bunch of boys and leave them to their own devices for any period of time, well, usually, sex of some kind could be offered and accepted. I would find it hilarious to be at camp with a newly made friend and, at some point, he might say something like, “If you were a girl, I wouldn’t mind having sex with you…” or, like another guy had asked, “If I was a girl, um, would you want to do it to me?”

Of course, I would! Or, in the case of the first statement, I’d say, “You can pretend that I’m a girl if you want to…” and if he did – and most of those guys most certainly did – we’d find a way to make it happen. While a lot of guys tended to be… shy or timid about it, a lot of guys were bold, blunt, and right to the point. One year, jeez, my group hadn’t been in our assigned cabin for ten minutes before a guy came to me while I was putting my stuff away and said, “When there’s a chance, I wanna suck your cock, okay?” The first time that happened, I was… shocked because that was a level of boldness and directness I’d only seen at home and with my male friends.

A lot of the things I learned at summer camp weren’t just camping stuff. One of the stated highlights of the camp was being able to learn and improve upon social skills and this was some good stuff to be involved in but I’m not sure if the YMCA really understood how social we could be with each other, and the level of social skills learned because we were sucking and fucking each other. Or, hah, if they did know this – and they probably did, to be honest – I still they didn’t do a whole lot to make sure that we couldn’t do any of that… but I would say it was a… test to see if we could behave properly at all times and one that a lot of us failed and were very happy to fail.

Peer pressure wasn’t much of a thing but another thing I learned is how some guys just didn’t want to be an outsider or left out of the group. Many would eventually find or figure out that some of us were having sex and, well, they didn’t want to be left out but not necessarily because of the sex but, as the saying goes, when in Rome… I could always tell those guys who were very afraid to do something with a boy; you could just look at them and tell that (1) they knew what was going on and (2) they just didn’t want to be a loner or outsider. This had taught me that when a new guy moved into our neighborhood, the same thing would often take place, but I hadn’t really recognized it because I was ‘too close” to it and going to camp took care of being too close to the local stuff.

A lot of the social stuff was… debunking stereotypes like, oh, it is really true that you guys all have big cocks? Well, no, it isn’t but, huh? You want proof? You wanna see mine? Okay… as long as you show me yours and from there, hmm. I would learn from those days that I could get into the “Show Me” game with a guy and his dick was bigger than mine… but his perception said otherwise. It also very much lent itself to cock size not having much of a meaning and especially when you were far from home, away from your friends, and you were seriously – or desperately – horny.

While some guys would “secretly” jerk off – and I say it like that because it wasn’t much of a secret – I would say that it wasn’t that big of a stretch for guys to realized that, sheesh, why do that when you could, more than likely, get a guy to suck your dick or he’d allow you to fuck him so you could cum like that? Or, like a guy said to me in my third or fourth year, “It’s better than nothing and way better than beating my meat!”

There was the… cultural aspects. In my neighborhood, there were only two white families with children and “going out into the city” and even being a YMCA member – as well as a Boy Scout – exposed me to other white kids and, um, I knew how those guys could be but, again, this was local and the culture shock came in realizing that white guys from other cities and states… weren’t all that different other than them having an… eagerness to do it with a boy and if they weren’t seriously eager to do it, so many of them wanted to know what it was like and, yeah, was it different doing it with a Black guy?

And we learned, together, that it was kinda different but, nah, not really. For those of us who were bisexual, we were the same but not the same and that, most of the time, made doing it with each other more… meaningful. Indeed, a lot of guys would come to camp with that “I’m the only one” feeling and get shocked – and culture shocked – to find out that, nope, you sure ain’t the only one. While I was used to being around different peoples, I would get a dose of culture shock almost every year to run into a guy who, until they saw me, never saw a person of color before.

My goodness – I still remembering pranking that guy who had asked me about how I got my hair to be kinky and why I had a tan when they didn’t always get one. I told him that I used to be white but, last year, I was lying here on the beach and fell asleep and when I woke up, I was like this.

And he believed me. But, again, I got a dose of culture shock because he didn’t know that I was born like this because he lived somewhere that didn’t have “people like me” or, as I would also learn, they were kept from interacting with Blacks and other ethnicities. Still, in this level of social interaction, we learned that, again, we really weren’t all that different and that the color of our respective skins didn’t mean a damned thing because we all had dicks, they all got hard (and painfully so) and we could all do it to each other.

I never failed to hear the question, “Have you ever done it with another boy?” when I went to camp and I would feel… unpressured to answer it by saying, “Yep! A lot of times, too!” I would think that I felt less pressure to admit this because it wasn’t like they were gonna rat me out to my parents since, you know, they were here. The question didn’t always lead to me and the asker having sex, but it often did because (1) they were curious about it or (2) they were happy to find a guy who was… just like they were and who also knew how much fun it was to do it to a guy.

I would grow up to be adult me and look back at those times and see that some guys were… “submissive.” They came into their own by sucking dicks and being fucked and not even wanting the favor returned and whatever the guy they were with wanted him to do was just fine and dandy, right and proper. They didn’t mind being told to do this or the other and some of them would let me know that they wanted to be told to and it was fine with them and, I would learn, easier on them than being the more “dominant” guy. I found this to be both confusing and bothersome because that’s not how I behaved and, as such, I didn’t think that other guys should behave differently from me… and I learned that they can and, eh, okay – it’s not that big of a deal… as long as we get to do it.

The thing I hated about summer camp was… going back home. It’s like being an adult and finally being able to go on vacation and you can’t wait to go but when you’re on vacation – and having your idea of fun – yeah, going back home was the last thing you wanted to do even though, I would learn, you could be in the middle of your vacation and going back home was the thing you wanted to do, which would turn into not wanting to go home.

I learned… stuff being at summer camp. Like, how many inner-city kids get to learn how to ride a horse? Or learn how to swim or how to really shoot a bow and arrow or do arts and craft stuff and, importantly, to learn that “the world” was much and really bigger than just being where you lived? I’d get much older and realize the good going to camp did for me – and, at first, I wasn’t having any of it – and how much I really grew as a person and even as a bisexual because I got to be around guys from “all over” who were just like me or they wanted to be and, yeah, boys will be boys no matter where they live, what they look like, so on and so forth.

I was very fortunate to be able to experience these things and, yeah, those other things. We learned to work together to do stuff… as well as the stuff that had nothing to do with summer camp activities. There were pockets of racial prejudice, but those pockets would be miniscule because the counselors would work to change those behaviors in those who expressed them but, I think, a lot of those who had prejudices wound up losing them via the sex that was, to me, a part of going to summer camp.

I’d grow up and think that maybe they should have made this an “official camp activity” but, nah, they weren’t going to do that, but I also realized that… they knew what we were doing when we had the opportunity to and unless there was a “big stink” about it, they’d just let thing play out in whatever way it would and maybe because this was just as much a part of boys growing up as anything else was. Maybe.

We were encouraged to get to know each other and, well, we got to know each other in the biblical way of knowing as well. I never found out what it cost my parents, grandmother, and godparents to send me to camp every year, but I would grow up to understand that it was money well spent because I always came home from camp being a better person.

And always with a better understanding about being bisexual. It… knows no boundaries and the only boundaries that existed were the ones we create for ourselves, and I would see a lot of this going to camp every year and wonder why guys weren’t as “open” about it as I was or, yeah, how some guys made me look like I was closed up tighter than a clam. Those guys… reveled in it and I even learned more about reveling in it from them because, why not? Kid logic said that if you weren’t going to have all of the fun you could doing it, why bother to do it? But, again, I would learn that some kids “bothered” because they needed to… belong. To satisfy any curiosity it or having that chance to express inner feelings that, when at home, you didn’t dare let out “in the open.”

I kissed a guy for the first time at summer camp and it was… nice. Not that different from kissing a girl but I’d get older and understand that it wasn’t just about the kiss but how the other guy and I felt about each other and how we had bonded and that was before it became “obvious” that we had to have sex and when we did, it set the stage for the kiss. I mean, who knew you could feel that way about a guy, but it would be a… lesson I’d “forget,” only to be seriously reminded later in my life.

And learning how to deal with that awful sense of loss. Knowing that unless your cabinmates returned to camp next year, you weren’t going to see them again and, yes, having it hurt even more if you were close to a girl and even when no sex was possible… but it was very much wanted just the same.

Sigh. I remember having a fit when my parents told me that I was going away to summer camp. I didn’t want to go and when I asked why I had to go, my mom said, “Because it’ll be a good thing for you to go and a chance to learn new things!” Yeah, fuck that! I wanted to stay put with my friends and the familiarity of my surroundings and while I had objected, I had to relent because whether I wanted to go or not, I was going… and, end of discussion. I was told, in no uncertain terms, to be grateful for the chance to do this because it was something that a lot of kids didn’t get to experience.

I didn’t think I would enjoy it… then found out otherwise and for a lot of reasons but, yeah, finding out that I could still be myself in certain things and with other boys who were like me, wanted to be like me, and were seriously more like me and in ways that, even then, made me wish that all guys could be this way and not see it as the bad thing everyone said it was. But yeah – every year was go to camp, meet new guys, and have sex with them…. because, why not? Besides, some of that “camp shit” was boring and there had to be something else we can do that was more exciting and it didn’t take any of us long to figure out how to make our stay at camp very exciting.

Thanks to MissD for the inspiration!