Living With… Stuff: 12 May 24

I had my PET/CT scan on Friday and the PET scan report revealed… no tumors or cancers found.

It noted an increase in the inflammation around my PEG tube, which didn’t surprise me since it’s been bothering the shit out of me and is scheduled to be replaced on the 22nd with a low-profile device. I have to wait a few days for the CT scan report, which kinda makes me a little nervous because it might say something different from the PET scan report and I agreed with the technician who said that she didn’t know why it took them – radiologists – so long to read the CT and write their report.

I said that I didn’t know, either, but I have had so many CT scans over the years that I expect to not see or know about the report for a couple of days after the fact. My thing was having to go through the pre-scan stuff – what I can and can’t do the day before the scan as well as what I’d better not do six hours before the scan which, just like the previous scan, left me really hungry because all the stuff I like to eat is on the list of things I can’t eat.

Then I had to be up early (for me) so I could be there 15 minutes before the time I was scheduled to be there and, honestly, I don’t know why since all I had to do was sign the consent form – at this point, there isn’t a whole lot that the hospital doesn’t know about me so it’s not like I had to list my ailments and medications. It didn’t help that it was kinda rainy, it’s Friday, traffic in my neck of the woods can get crazy on a dry, sunny day and even crazier when it rains (and something I’ve never understood). My lady usually goes with me to my appointments but since the PET/CT is a two-hour procedure, yeah, she wasn’t coming with me, and I don’t blame her one bit.

I had the same technician that I had the last time I was there for the scan; she remembered me and remembered my coat and I remembered that she really liked it and had asked where I got it (and after the scan, she offered to take my coat home with her) so it’s always good to be remembered given how many patients are seen on a daily basis. She sets the IV after taking my blood sugar (it was 89), hits me with the radioactive sugar shot and… time to sit and wait. I called myself watching TV as I reclined in the chair with a really warm blanket on me but I nodded off until another tech came in to put me in the machine… after I hit the lavatory.

She’s telling me how long the PET scan is going to take and how long the CT scan will take as I get settled on that narrow-assed table – they really could make them just a bit wider! After covering me with a couple of hot blankets fresh out of the warmer, she straps me to the table, tells me about the speaker and mic in the machine so if I say something, she’ll hear me. I take the instructions in stride because, of course, I’ve heard them before, and I really don’t want to spend the next hour in the machine, but I have to… and I’m doing my best to stay awake.

It didn’t help me that I didn’t sleep all that well the night before with my stomach growling at me because there wasn’t much I could eat, and I couldn’t have my tube feeding. At one point, I hear someone in the room and I’m thinking it’s the tech and maybe something’s not right because the table moves so that the lower half of me is sticking out the back of the machine and hasn’t moved since and… someone is putting more blankets in the warmer and, I guessed, refreshing the supplies in the room and that’s never happened to me during a scan before.

Some guy comes in to tell me that now they’re going to do the CT scan and I’m tired, hungry, and bored silly so I just mumble an okay. Finally, they’re done scanning me and now comes the part I’ve come to not like a whole lot: Getting off the table. Bad enough to get that dizzy feeling sitting up but my old ass has been on that table for an hour and the warmth of the blankets had worn off, it’s cold as fuck in the machine room and… I got stiff from a lack of movement. So, now I’m trying to pull my pants back up and I’m trying to get my balance back together and… I hate getting off of the table and a hatred I gained having to be zapped every day for 35 days.

Now I gotta hike back to the main entrance of the hospital to get to the parking garage and up to the third floor where I had parked – and trying to find a parking space in there is a bitch – and I’m on my way home and arriving two and a half hours after I left. Now I want some coffee, something to eat, and I want to take a nap. I couldn’t stop myself from thinking – and not for the first time – that having cancer isn’t the problem: It’s all the stuff you gotta do about it and the post-treatment stuff just adds to the whole thing.

My throat still wants to fuck with me and making it hard and painful for me to swallow anything including water which necessitates having to be tube fed since eating solid foods just pisses my throat off and it’s no picnic that my damned PEG tube is hitting me with jolts of pain even when the damned thing isn’t being bothered by moving around or my clothes are pressing down on it and I sometimes laugh when I catch myself adjusting the PEG tube and not unlike when I have to adjust my cock and balls occasionally and, yeah, I do my best just to grin and bear the discomfort – and I haven’t even talked a lot about the neuropathic pain that’s fucking with my feet but I’m of a mind that the left-side pain I got from chemo is going to be permanent since it hasn’t slacked off after being done with chemo.

Maybe – and like so many other things related to this – it’s just going to take a very long time if the left-side pain will dissipate, and the additional right-side pain will go back to the “normal” pain left behind when I had my stroke… but I’m beginning to doubt it and this pain in my feet wants to fuck with my head because it never stops and messes with my ability to walk. I went through some shit to get used to the right-side pain but even an increase in my Lyrica dosage and the addition of oxycodone to help with the pain hasn’t done much to take the edge off.

I look in the mirror every morning and I see a guy that… I don’t recognize and that’s because I’m not used to seeing myself without my moustache and goatee and having to shave because the hair on my face still wants to grow in unevenly and in patches – and my lady likes to tease me about that – and I wonder if my facial hair will ever grow back the way it was before but there’s no way to know that it will thanks to the lingering effects of the radiation to add on to chemo removing all of my hair to begin with and… maybe you can understand why I say that having cancer isn’t as bad as the stuff you have to go through to get rid of it – and then the stuff you gotta deal with after you’re done with being treated.

My immune system is still whacked and as a recent trip the lab revealed, and the good thing is that all of the indicated values aren’t that far off from being in the low normal range – so I guess it’s getting its act together slowly but surely and like everything else it trying to do. And my job is to remain positive and upbeat and, on some days, eh, it’s not that easy to do. It could’ve been worse and since it wasn’t, that’s definitely something to smile about so… I keep trying to smile through all of this.

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: 11 May 24 @ 0825

As I was reading forum entries the other day, I realized – and not for the first time – that I’m jaded. I’m not exactly set in my ways because I’m always game to experience and/or learn new things, but I see a lot of the stuff some bi guys are into and… I’ve either rolled my eyes, looked toward heaven, frowned, and even shrugged in confusion and usually because I didn’t quite understand what I was reading.

Like, sheesh, I don’t pretend to fully understand what it means to be a submissive bottom or why a lot of guys these days are very much into kissing and definitely “missing the boat” on some of the kinky things they fantasize about, let alone some of the questions they ask on the forum that give me a WTF moment and asking my screen, “Who asks questions like that?” even though I can see the inquiring member’s handle.

I realized that as a sexually active bisexual man, I’ve been… spoiled, for the most part. Being able to find guys to have sex with hasn’t really been that bad of a problem although “the usual places” to find dick remains chock full of fakes and flakes and it takes a lot more work to separate the chaff from the wheat but I also realized that I don’t have this problem like a lot of guys do because I got started young and learned my lessons and paid my dues, too. I’m not opposed to the notion of having an FWB but for all of my bisexual life, I’ve had to take what dick was available to have and while I’ve had a few FWB-like connections with guys, they’ve been fleeting and not expected to last long to begin with, well, I never expected them to and the guys I was some flavor of buddy to didn’t disappoint as they eventually found someone else to have fun with and sometimes – usually – vanishing without saying goodbye.

Compared to what I know about some guys dealing with their bisexuality, I’ve had it pretty fucking easy; I’ve made my share of mistakes and have had probably more than my fair share of bad sexual moments with guys but not a whole lot of them and nothing that I couldn’t handle. Still, I’m jaded in the sense that I know what I like and don’t like because if it ain’t broke, don’t fuck with it – and it’s not been broken… yet.

I’m on forums with bottoms and I mentor a top and the input I get from both sources… makes me glad that I’m more versatile and, yeah, if I ever tell you that I didn’t want my dick sucked, check my ID, take my temperature – something – because there’s something very wrong with me. It’s not like I’ve never had sex with bottoms because I have – both bi and gay – but I only recall a small few of them telling me that they didn’t want their dick sucked and… I imposed my will upon them and sucked them off and with the “excuse” that they’re not the only cocksucker in the room and, um, they kinda liked me imposing my will upon them… but I didn’t like doing it all that much but like them, I want what I want, too.

Why should I be the only one to enjoy being sucked off? Sure, I had a moment in time where all I wanted to do was suck dick and I didn’t care if the guy returned the favor or not and, no, I have no explanation for it other than all I wanted to do was suck dick and if I needed to get off, I could always jerk myself off or jump my wife’s bones or just do nothing and bask in the heady feelings of making a guy’s dick hard and then making it soft again and I’ve got his seed in my stomach. If they wanted to return the favor I wasn’t going to tell them no – I just didn’t need it and no matter how much I wondered about this, I never did figure out why and at this point in my life, I don’t really care anymore but I’m very jaded in that if I suck your dick, I won’t be the only one sucking dick or…

Why should you be the only one to have that pleasure? When instant gratification arrived on the scene and, methinks, somewhere around 1990 or so, I had to make some adjustments to be able to understand and interact with those people who wanted what they wanted and in the exact way they wanted it, and they wanted it right the fuck now – and don’t you even think about asking them for something that you want. I didn’t like having to make those adjustments but the rule of The Game have been known to change and if you don’t change, you will be left behind… and I wasn’t trying to get left behind so, yeah, if that’s how you’re playing The Game, I can play it, too… but it sucks playing this version of the game and, yeah, Jaded and Spoiled Me can easily remember a time when it wasn’t like this.

I don’t feel badly about being jaded or for looking at all of this in the way I’ve learned to; it’s just that every now and then, I notice that, yep, real jade has nothing on me and it’s a sign that I need to lighten up and to not get tunnel vision about my bisexuality and the bisexuality of others. A lot of today’s submissive bottoms remind me of the one gay guy who was in the Band of Horny Brothers and to the extent where having sex with him was damned near like having sex with a girl and, um, sometimes better than sex with a girl but he was a very effeminate gay kid and, at first, it was shocking to see bi guys behaving like my childhood friend would – and the many other effeminate kind of guys who may or may not have been gay and, yeah, that includes my very gay boyfriend.

I try to understand these worthy brothers because I might run into one at some point and it’d help to know where they’re coming from. Although to hear some of their requirements, I might get kicked to the curb because I don’t have 10″ of fat dick, I’m not ripped like Mr. Universe, and… I’m not the domineering type. A lot of these submissive bottom guys say that they live to be “used and abused” and, whoa, okay, that’s different since even the gayest dude I knew wasn’t trying to be used and abused and I know that I wouldn’t stand for the shit these brave souls say they want and expect from a top but, then again, I’m not a top and, honestly, I can’t be that single-minded.

I admire and respect my protege, but I couldn’t be his idea of being a top and simply because I’m not that type of person or bisexual and especially after the adjustments I had to make or, yeah, I might get fucked… but I won’t be the only one, not out of any misguided sense of fairness but I’m just as much a guy are you are and I’ve even asked my protege, “What makes you think that I wouldn’t want to fuck you?” Well, it’s a rhetorical question because I already know the answer: He’s a top and he’s totally bought into the role and as it’s been defined, oh, for the last twenty or thirty years and while he will suck dick and will bottom for certain guys, he actually prefers not to do these things if he doesn’t have to and he’s a stone fan of submissive gay bottoms and, yeah, Jaded Me knows that if we ever meet and we have sex, he’s going to get quite the education and one he’s probably not going to like a whole lot.

Jaded. Spoiled. Again, I’m from a time when all of this was a hell of a lot easier and the sex being mutually satisfying actually had real meaning and I think it’s a good thing that I know this about myself because, again, it reminds me to keep this stuff on the shelf because it’s just not a very cool way to be and as a matter of course. I get that the thing that made me jaded was my early entry into having sex both ways, almost always being an OJT candidate as I strove to learn about sex and how to have it with boys and girl and to enjoy the fuck out of all of it. I’d never say that these… modern bisexual men don’t enjoy the fuck out of whatever they’re doing (or dreaming about doing) but they also seem to not only be locked into a role but have managed to do so without getting their first taste of what it’s like to have sex with a guy.

And so many of them wind up getting the shock of their lives when what they imagined is nowhere near the reality that can be experienced and, yeah, even at the hands of an FWB because you can never discount or dismiss how a guy might change once his dick gets hard… and that change might not be what you expected and, if nothing else, I know to be for-real about this but, then again, Spoiled Me learned this one a long time ago.

Someone on the forum posted something about if you had the chance to be the opposite gender (and you know how much I despise that word in connection with bisexuality) for a week, a month, or longer, would you do it? And I’m surprised – and not really – at the number of men who said that sure – they’d spend some time being a woman (and I recognized that most of them are submissive bottoms) and I’m like, nope, not even because I already know that I’d make for a lousy woman and beginning with my mind doesn’t even come close to working like that and, um, oh, hell, no. Besides, when it would come to having sex, I already know what it’s like to be subjected to a man’s lust and what he’ll do and say in order to get me naked and have his way with me and I’m obviously not female and with respect to all the females out there, I wouldn’t want to be.

I recognize that I’ve been at this for so long that being jaded… just and eventually happens. You go from the unimaginable excitement of that first experience with a guy to sometimes being cynical about it somewhere down the road and, yeah, I know that I can be and that’s not a good thing and it doesn’t help those men who are trying to get a grip on their sexuality although, admittedly, I’m damned cynical about porn and its impact on male bisexuality but that’s a rant for some other time.

And now that I’ve gotten this out of my system, I feel so much better and more like myself instead of some hidebound old dude just waiting to tell the kids to stay off my lawn.

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: 09 May 24 @ 1048

“Am I really gay?”

I remember the day this question finally caught up with me and it wasn’t until I was 19 (or 20) when it did and then it only came up because that week had found me having sex with like ten guys and handing out blowjobs like nobody’s business and getting blowjobs and, well, it was one hell of a week but the question hadn’t hit my mind until after my wife and I had spent most of the morning in bed and going at each other like we did when we first met.

I don’t quite remember where she went but it left me at home alone and that’s when I heard the question in my head… and it shook the shit out of me and actually made me nauseous for a few minutes. Meanwhile, my brain… lost its mind and seriously got into trying to answer the question and almost to the exclusion of all else; I was unusually distracted or going about things on autopilot and this went on for a whole two years before I realized that, no, I wasn’t really gay and the proof was the jury finally rendering its verdict… after another hot and spicy lovemaking session with my wife.

Now, at the time, I didn’t know that there were gay dudes who didn’t mind taking a woman to bed so I was imbued with the “dumb shit” that gay men didn’t like pussy and since I’d just had some – and had been getting some the whole two years I pondered this question – well, I felt like an idiot to have totally missed the answer that had been right there in my face the whole frigging time. And, yeah, I hadn’t stopped having sex with guys during this… hiatus from common sense. Hell, one day, I spent a morning sucking a guy off… and spent the afternoon fucking his wife which, at this point in time, wasn’t anything unusual but an example of how the question had ratted me so badly that I kept overlooking the obvious – but wait! It gets better!

My wife had noticed my distraction and had asked me what was wrong to which I said, “Nothing – I just have something on my mind…” and I wasn’t of a mind to talk about it since I didn’t have enough information to be able to talk about this damned question without sounding like an idiot but eventually, she got me to tell her what had me so distracted and I told her. She actually laughed, asked if I was kidding, and declared that as far as she was concerned, there was no way in hell that I was really gay – and what made me even think that I was?

I’d told her about “the week of ten dicks” which she already knew about and she allowed that she could see how being that busy could make a guy feel that way but the more I thought about it – and that’s the kicker because even after talking to her about it, I didn’t stop pondering the question and, yes, I still feel like an idiot as I recall this rather embarrassing moment in my life. But I did get my act back together so that I wasn’t all that distracted except in those moments when I was alone and could devote all of my attention to answering a question that I would learn… I already knew the answer to.

I would theorize one day after I realized that I wasn’t really gay that the question hadn’t popped into my head when I was younger and having sex with guys like, um, well, like it was illegal. I knew that a lot of my friends had asked themselves this question and there were always the concerns about if we do this, will it make me gay which, of course, wasn’t quite unlikely but sure, some guys got into playing with dick and found that they were gay or they learned why they didn’t like girls like they were supposed to.

It had me wondering if, “psychologically,” it was normal for guys to question their sexuality once they got this… affinity for men because some guys would ask themselves this question the moment they realized that, hey, I not only like Steve but I really like him and, hmm, I wonder what it would be like to have sex with him but, dang, does that mean that I’m gay? I had sat and ransacked my memories to see if I knew a guy who had never asked themselves this question and found that every guy I knew who either got some dick or was on the fence about it had asked themselves if that meant they were really gay.

I mean, yeah, I had asked myself the question… all late and wrong at that; I gave myself a lesson on what it’s like to be too close to something that you really can’t see the whole picture and, sad to say, you can be 100% sure that you have a good grip on your thoughts and feelings until you find out that you don’t all that much. The thing that really messed me up about it taking me two years to be able to answer the question was the fact that I didn’t feel any pressing or urgent need to come up with an answer; my brain, as my lady would say, got stuck on stupid and, I dunno, I guess something in my head realized that I hadn’t asked or answered the question and, yeah, stuck on stupid and had been proving to myself at every turn that, no, I wasn’t gay and… I already knew that.

And it is also to note that during the two years I spent pondering this question, I had a boyfriend who I loved and at no time did I feel gay, and my idiot brain knew this but… stuck on stupid. That forehead smacking moment when I could finally and officially say, “No, I’m not really gay!” and, oh, fuck, me, the proof was lying in bed and wondering what bus had run her over and not only was I responsible for her feeling that way, well, fucking duh, I’d been making her feel that way for the last two years and she wasn’t the only woman I’d been having sex with and, lest I forget, plenty of helpings of nice and hard pricks.

Not gay but bisexual but I now got to wondering about the invasiveness of that social conditioning that put it into young male minds that if you have sex with a boy, that meant that you were a homosexual – gay – and that was a sin and evil and as nasty as anything could be… except it wasn’t always nasty to have sex with a guy, from jerking him off to sucking him off to looking forward to him getting off in my butt to being the one getting all wide-eyed watching a guy suck the cum out of me and, oh, hell, yeah, looking at my dick buried in a guy’s ass and pumping cum into him and, ahh, that sure as fuck felt good – then, later on, eating a girl’s pussy and fucking her and, yeah, that always works… and feeling all kinds of stupid and idiotic because, again, I already knew the answer.

Very likely the biggest “duh” moment of my life. Told my wife that I’d finally figured out that I wasn’t gay and… she laughed for the next twenty minutes; it was embarrassing but, yeah, I “earned” being laughed at…

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: 08 May 24 @ 1302

The “greatest gift” given to me when I became bisexual was… oral sex.

First, sucking cock or, that first time, barely managing to use my tongue the way he was trying to tell me and learning the “up, down, and all around” motion as well; I didn’t as much suck his dick as he kinda fucked my mouth but I liked the feel of the head of his dick in my mouth, all soft and spongy but kinda hard at the same time.

Those warm splashes of his cum that were filling my mouth up so much that I swallowed most of it out of a sense of self-preservation changed my life forever. The very next day, I had to tell my friends about it, found out that a couple of them already knew about it and the five of us went to a hideout to suck on each other’s pricks because it felt good to the one doing it and definitely the one getting it done. A whole lot of years later, I would wonder and marvel at how easily sucking dick came to be and my fellows which only lent itself to my theory that men giving each other blowjobs was just as normal as anything else.

My only complaint was that my friends weren’t shooting the stuff – but there were guys who were shooting it and I was happy to suck on their much bigger pricks until I heard them groan and then felt those warm splashes in my mouth – and swallowing as fast as I could to gulp down the salty-sweetness of their stuff. Yeah, sometimes, one of those guys would want to squirt his stuff between my butt cheeks, which felt weird but good and would leave my butt sticky and squishy.

But if a guy wanted his dick sucked, I was the guy to find, not that it was my intention to be that go-to kind of guy but Adult Me would recognize that from the very first moment I had a dick in my mouth, I was hooked on it and I couldn’t get enough of sucking dick, with or without the baby-making stuff. Almost a week after that first life-changing experience, I ejaculated for the first time and now I’m shooting the baby-making stuff, too.

My friends didn’t believe me but, um, they sure found out when they sucked my dick and made me shoot – and while some of them were mad that I was shooting the stuff (and they weren’t) but it made me quite popular among other guys and a few of the Hot in the Ass Girls. Ah, I remember an older guy – a teenager – sucking my dick and I told him that I was gonna shoot and he either didn’t hear me or he ignored me but I definitely got his attention when I shot my stuff into his mouth and he was surprised e

Years in the future, I would be talking to a doctor about this and he was kinda surprised that I was nine when I first ejaculated but I had also told him that a couple of weeks before that happened, I’d been hit by a car and had gotten stitches in my head and he suggested that hitting my head when the car hit me might have triggered my entry into puberty and, well, that was about the best explanation I’d ever heard of. My other male friends didn’t ejaculate until they were teens – well, most of them didn’t – but while they were waiting to be able to shoot the stuff, I was having the time of my life sucking dicks and getting mouthfuls of the stuff – aka jizz – from those who could give it and in quantity.

Then I learned about eating pussy. If swallowing a man’s sperm was/is an acquired taste, so is putting your mouth on a girl’s pussy – but I had to know why my father told me to never put my mouth on a girl’s pussy. Adult Me knows why you shouldn’t because it can get you into some… interesting trouble but absent that? I thought that sucking dick was the best thing ever and it got replaced the day I ate my first pussy.

Which made me popular again with girls. They might not have been of a mind to let me stick it in and do it to them and squirt my jizz all up in them but once they learned that I didn’t mind licking the kitty (and the girl I first ate told all of her friends about it), if I wasn’t sucking dick, I was eating pussy and constantly learning how to master the skills that could make guys shoot their stuff and make girls try to push me from between their legs.

An older woman told and taught me that if they’re not looking at me like I tried to kill them, I didn’t do it right – and I’d better keep at it until I did it right. I might not have had the biggest dick, and I might not have been able to fuck for a very long time without cumming but I could suck dick and eat pussy like a fiend and guys liked having their dick sucked and girls really liked having their pussies eaten and the long you could do it, the more they liked it.

Being teased about it in high school and that was okay because my comeback was, “That’s how I’m getting the pussy you ain’t getting…” because girls were making it clear: You had to lick it before you could stick it – and they did not mean giving the kitty a few licks.

They meant you’d better pack lunch and dinner because you’re going to be there for a long time.

I was learning that giving someone head could be a lot of work simply because it wasn’t always easy to get them to cum, say, in less that twenty minutes. The challenge for me was to go down on them and stay down on them until they came, or they made me stop or, sometimes, they couldn’t cum even if their life depended on it and not all of my head-giving experiences went swimmingly well and lessons in how you can’t please everyone – but you can sure as hell have fun trying to.

Being around men and women who either didn’t give head or they didn’t like getting it (and learning some important stuff as to why they didn’t) and my personal thought and feeling that they not only didn’t know what they were missing, they were the ones who was crazy and not me. Girls would be like, “Do you eat at the Y, and do you eat for a long time?” and guys would be like, “Do you swallow?” and, why, yes – I can do both! And, yes, I learned the joy of being able to suck cock and eat pussy in threesomes and other group sex activities because, um, it just made sense to have sex like that and everyone was fair game and when someone would make me cum and I had to recharge, I could keep myself occupied waiting to recharge by sucking dicks and eating pussies.

Being lucky enough to have sucked multiple dicks in one setting as well as eating multiple pussies and after being disbelieved, dared, and challenged to eat five girls until they all had The Big O… and I did not fail to please them, which was good because I got to eat a lot of pussy thanks to word-of-mouth advertising and “good” reviews.

The fun of having girls I didn’t know rolling up on me and asking, “Is it true that you eat pussy?” and, um, yeah, it’s true – why are you ask- oh, that’s why you’re asking. Being invited to prove that I did and it was a challenge that I couldn’t refuse to take on – and learning some of the reasons why you should never put your mouth on a girl’s pussy – and learning from those who got VD from both guys and gals. So, yeah, Dad, you were right about that but, at the same time, you were about as wrong as it gets and, um, ahem, I won’t even mention being awakened in the middle of the night and hearing Mom yelling at you to eat her pussy and don’t stop. That “do as I say, not as I do” stuff was bullshit…

Even more fun when they would make it clear that all they wanted was to be eaten and I’d better not even dream about fucking them but, um, by the time I got into my pussy-eating groove, they were telling me to fuck them; one girl, when asked why she changed her mind, said, “It was the only way I could think of to get you to stop eating me and making me cum!”

I had peers who thought I was the weirdo because I sucked dick and ate pussy and, at first, I hated being picked on about it until I realized that I might be weird because I loved to give head, but I was getting laid… and way more than they were. Learning not to brag or make promises other than I’m going to do the best I can and know how to because it was all I could do, and I hated it when I failed to please someone orally and understanding that if you don’t fail, you never learn how to succeed.

Being able to turn guys on to the joys of cocksucking and showing them that girls weren’t the only ones who could suck dick – and you didn’t have to be gay to suck dick. Learning that it wasn’t always easy to convince a girl/woman to let me eat that thang but it wasn’t always that hard to convince a guy that, um, look; if you let me suck your dick, you won’t regret it, okay?

That great sense of accomplishment to be able to get someone off with my mouth and, yeah, being told that I’m crazy or that I suck cock better than women and other such things that I learned just to take in stride and to not let it go to my head because (1) there is always someone who’s going to be better at it than I am and (2) I don’t always get it right. Although I would take a bit of pride to be told that I’m almost as good as a woman when it comes to eating pussy and I’ve seen women do it and, yeah, I’m not even in their league but, again, I can only do the best I know how to do.

Adult Me would be thinking about Younger Me and had “finally realized” that at the ripe old age of ten – and learning how to lick and suck on a girl’s pussy – was the “final piece” of the puzzle that was the basics of having sex. Again, I might not have had the biggest and fattest dick, and I might not have been able to fuck “all night long” but I was a cocksucking, pussy-eating fiend of the highest order and even growing into adulthood didn’t change this about me but adults, yeah, adults were funny about it, and I’d learn more about there being some people you should never give head to.

And learning to never let anyone try to steal your joy. Learning that just because the last time didn’t go all that well didn’t mean that it would always not go well – and even with the same person. Sucked a guy’s dick one day and utterly failed to get him off with my mouth and having to endure him pounding my ass unmercifully and unpleasantly until he did cum but the next day? Got him off with my mouth in about four minutes… and he was pissed.

Learning about the refractionary period of sex and how badly it could affect men and women and, yeah, I didn’t understand why I’d be ready to have sex repeatedly but then, I’d bust a nut and… all those plans to fuck and suck all day long was the last fucking thing I wanted to do… but I’d had to learn how to go back down on a pussy I just came in because she’s telling me that she hasn’t cum yet and knowing that failing to make a woman cum, well, it doesn’t get any worse than that.

Or sucking dicks with a guy and he makes me cum first and… yuck, I’d rather go work at the city dump on the hottest day imaginable but he’s still hard and hasn’t cum so my work is not done… and I had do it, had to finish it because I did not want it said that I was afraid to get a pussy that was oozing my spunk or that I cut and ran after busting a nut and left the other guy hanging. Both reputation and pride wouldn’t let me do what other guys were doing to me (and to others) and not always to my benefit at times, but you really do learn how to take the good with the bad and if it was bad, look to see if there was something – anything – I found to be enjoyable… and sometimes it wasn’t easy to.

In relationship mode, eating that pussy wasn’t a chore; it was still very much a joy for me to go down on my wife every day and sometimes several times a day or sometimes, I didn’t want to fuck her – I just wanted to eat her, get her squirting all over the place, and go back to whatever I was doing. Knowing that she’d recommend me to some of her girlfriends because unlike their husband/boyfriend, I would eat that pussy until one of us quit – and I wasn’t about to quit and no matter how beaten up I’d get while eating them, including almost drowning eating a woman I didn’t know was a squirter and she was sitting on my face and, well, take it from there.

Don’t get me wrong – I’d go through some shit sucking dick that I wasn’t fond of but eating pussy would often prove to be a hazard to my health and general well-being from having teeth loosened to being smothered and almost choked into unconsciousness by women who were doing what I wanted them to do: Use my mouth and tongue to get off!

The highest praise gotten from a woman? Being told that I was dangerous and that my tongue was lethal. Being told by guys that I suck cock better than the women they knew… or the one they lived with. My problem was that… I didn’t give head to make the other person happy, you know, as a main reason for why I gave head. I learned that if I’m having fun giving someone head and they’re liking what I’m doing, it’s a win/win for both of us – but I’ve never been, in today’s terms, a submissive cocksucker/muff diver.

Giving head… turns me on like nothing else can; I love the way it tastes, smells, and feels and once I learned how to be in the moment, shit, it just got better. Please don’t get me wrong here: I love being inside someone’s body and that level of intimacy, to be as close to someone as humanly possible, is so special and intimate… but so is giving them head and feeling the rush of taking a guy’s dick right down to the root or having a woman pressing my face against her wetness and like she’s trying to push my head in there is, wow, damn, does it get any better than that?

And then I learned that I’m orally fixated. The short version is that I like having things in my mouth and sucking on them. It explained much and I wasn’t all that concerned about it and, if anything, I reveled in having someone’s cock or pussy in my mouth and just going for what I know and doing the things I’ve spent learning when it comes to giving head.

Do you know what I mean? Do you know how it feels? Knowing the difference between merely liking to give head and loving to do it?

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: 07 May 24 @ 0934

I was commenting on a long-running post on the “new” forum and the sub-sub-subtopic was about the difficulties being bi or gay and my opinion that being bi or gay really isn’t that difficult – but we make it difficult for ourselves and especially when we are of a mind that society is shitting all over us because we dare to be different.

With all the shit going on this country, from politics to all the crazy shit going on with mass shootings and other insanities, our society doesn’t have the time or focus to give a fuck about someone’s sexuality and the only people who do give a fuck are yourself and whomever you might associate with and, yeah, if your sexuality is unknown, I’m almost sure you can’t get shat upon directly but I’ll admit that it’s hard to listen to people you know and love spouting anti-sexuality rhetoric and like they know that it applies to you.

I said in that comment that society doesn’t much really care but if you act like a squeaky wheel – and one that oil isn’t good enough for – then you’re going to garner some unwanted attention that will get your squeakiness removed and replace with a wheel that isn’t going to squeak. I’m writing this and went on to say that a lot of us act like we’re being victimized by an uncaring society or one that’s out to get us when, again, our society has more important things that requires its attention – but some folks keep acting like a victim and where it gets really weird is when someone’s acting like a victim… and they’ve not been victimized.

And there’s plenty of social media-like stuff that’ll make a bisexual feel like they’re being victimized because, sadly, some people have been victimized; the truth about our society is that if you’re a nail that wants to stick up, society is the hammer that will be beating you back into place. This is never to say that you should never stand up for yourself and your chosen sexuality… when society’s eye lands on you and that social bullshit is being aimed directly at you via social media but if you’ve been cruising right along and dealing with your everyday stuff and to the best of your ability, well, you’re doing okay and, importantly, not acting like the whole world just took a major dump on you.

I sit and go through the forums and I see men who are making being bisexual hard for them to do while blaming the social angst for their difficulties when, um, duh, if you’re having problems being bisexual, it’s not the social angst that’s making it hard – but that’s a good reason not pay any attention to the angst since I happen to know that it got transferred onto us after homosexuals won their long-standing war to be treated like everyone else in this country and, the haters needed something else to hate and… bisexuality was declared and proven to be real… and the haters had something to hate on.

If you pay attention to this shit, sure – it’s gonna make you think that the whole world is out to get you and once that paranoia has been instilled in you, well, everything looks like a hammer, doesn’t it? Guys talk about how hard it is to get the dick they want and, yeah, sometimes, acting like victims, when being able to have sex with someone has never been easy and if you want it, you gotta work to get it and if you’re not going to be of a mind to work smarter and not work harder, sure – you’re going to have some self-imposed difficulties and the only person or entity that can be blamed is yourself.

The dumb shit wants to make you a victim; it wants you to believe that you’re a victim and just like some other poor and unfortunate person wound up being victimized because of their sexuality – and they really did get shat upon big time but we pay so much attention to the dumb shit that we overlook this one: Just because it happened to someone else doesn’t mean that it will happen to you, too. I’m 68 years old and I have never been victimized because of my sexuality because I learned a long time ago to not pay any attention to the dumb shit and allow it to control my life.

“If you act like prey, you will be eaten…” is something my oldest son shared with me that came from something he was reading, and it was one of those lightbulb moments because I’d been trying to get into some guys’ underwear, and they weren’t acting like prey so much – but they were acting like victims and, as such, were being eaten by a system that… actually doesn’t give a fuck what your sexuality is unless you give it a reason to be paying attention to you and, yeah, ask homosexuals how that went for them before they kicked the system’s ass.

If you say, “I want to suck your cock!” but then come up with one hundred reasons why you can’t or shouldn’t, um, is this the system’s fault… or yours? Is it really the system that’s trying to make you a victim or are you victimizing yourself? I see so many “oh woe is me” guys on the forums that it makes me shake my head with great sadness because they’d rather blame everyone and everything they can think of instead of blaming themselves for their inability to get the dick they need and, I dunno, maybe “content” to keep playing the role of victim.

And many of these guys are, compared to myself, very new to bisexuality so they don’t know that the stuff they’re complaining about… is older than I am because bi guys have always been complaining about how hard it is to get some dick and that’s because society is hating on us and shitting on us at every turn when, in fact, if you’re not getting the dick you want, it’s probably your fault that you aren’t because there are a slew of guys who are getting dick and some getting more than what they can actually deal with and that’s because they’re out there putting in the work required and not sitting on their ass and acting like a victim or doing other shit to make this harder than it has to be and harder than it’s been historically.

Okay, I guess I’m done ranting… and if I was ranting. I have spent my life studying bisexuality in myself and in others and I see stuff that is… bothersome because it’s stuff that’s been around since I’ve been around, but it’s not stopped me from being the bisexual I need to be – and it hasn’t stopped a whole lot of bisexual men and women because you’re either going to be in control of your own life… or you’re going to let the social dumb shit control your life.

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: 06 May 24 @ 1121

Hopefully, everyone has recovered from celebrating Cinco de Mayo!

My thoughts today turn to the gay men that I’ve had sex with. Someone, a long time ago, asked me to quantify how many gay dudes I’d been with and how many bi dudes and… my brain automatically locked up and gave me a busy signal – and I told them that my brain doesn’t work like that because it doesn’t make a difference if the guy is straight, bi, or gay: If he wants to do it, well, let’s see if we can.

But it wasn’t always like that, not because gay dudes did me wrong or anything like that but because the word on the street was that gay faggot sissies were evil, and they were to be avoided at all costs. We had the one gay guy in our Band of Horny Brothers but, eh, he didn’t count… because he was one of us even though he was, as they used to say back then, as gay as a $3 bill. You messed with him, you messed with the rest of us… and there were a lot of us.

It was hard to ignore what the elders were saying about homosexual men and, really, myself and the rest of the BHB were just starting to understand some truths about this but it hadn’t clicked with any of us that one of our members was about as gay as anyone could be, so he was supposed to be evil and the devil and… he wasn’t which is probably why it never clicked with us. He was our friend and everyone’s favorite guy to do the nasty to. There were other guys in the other parts of the neighborhood that were like our friend but since they weren’t one of us, we didn’t – wouldn’t – interact with them sexually and I put it that way because we all went to the same elementary school and because of this, I got to know some of the other gay guys from being outside at recess with them…

And sneaking over to the parts of the neighborhood I wasn’t supposed to go to so (there were streets we weren’t supposed to cross)… we could do the nasty and who knew that there were two different kinds of gay guys? The ones who acted like girls and the ones who didn’t! And doing it with them… really wasn’t any different from doing it with any other guy. The BHB though I was a traitor because I was doing it with other gay guys but I “vouched” for the ones who were okay with me and, well, let’s say that the other guys in the neighborhood at large had business pick up for them (wink, wink, nudge, nudge).

It wasn’t until I was an adult when I ran into the angst between homosexual men and bisexual ones. Now, I had heard that there were gay dudes who didn’t like guys like me but all through junior and senior high school, shoot, I was having sex with bi and gay guys almost on a regular basis and we weren’t having any issues between us until one day, as an adult, I had sex with a gay guy a few times and he wanted me to give up women and be his boyfriend and… I found out why gay dudes had a problem with bi dudes.

Yeah, man, you know, I felt compassion for those guys because they were looking for love and found it through the sex they were having with, I’ll say, their “type” of guy but if the guy was straight or bi, it wasn’t likely that they were going to give up their first loves – women and pussy – just to be with a guy and… a lot of gay hearts got broken and I learned that, like a whole lot of people tended to be, if one is bad, then all are bad and there were times when I wished I could get my hands on the guy that gave us bi guys a bad rep with the gay guys because there were gay guys I really wanted to sleep with but, because I was bi, I got kicked to the curb, sometimes nicely, sometimes not.

I kinda couldn’t explain to them that I wasn’t the guy who broke their heart, but I also had to admit that I wouldn’t want to be in a relationship with them because that would mean giving up women and pussy and I didn’t want to do that because I loved being bisexual. Silly Me had no idea what was coming down the road for me but, yeah, I was one of those guys who thought that falling in love with another guy was flat out impossible.

It wasn’t like I wasn’t having sex with gay dudes because I was; there were a lot of them that didn’t care if I was bi because they just wanted to have sex and if we kept at it, that was fine… as long as it didn’t start to get serious and for me, I was onboard with it not getting serious… but I also had to “put up” with them being all passive-aggressive and telling me that I’d make for a great gay man or it’s a shame that I like women because I’d make a gay dude happy and other such stuff. I knew that such comments were both a compliment and an admonishment but as long as no drama showed up, I was good with things.

Turning straight guys into bi guys or, more realistic, showing straight guys that you don’t have to be gay in order to have sex with a guy and to enjoy the fuck out of it and I was aware of some gay dudes who were seriously on the prowl for straight guys and some of them would run into me because, duh, I looked and behaved like a straight guy and they were happy until I told them that I was bi and now, I’m all fucked up and other shit.

I will never forget being in a gay bar and having a gay man tell me that if it wasn’t for the fact that I’d told him that I’d had my dick in that “nasty-assed pussy,” he would have taken me to bed in a heartbeat – and then he had announced this to the whole bar… and rather loudly, too. I was finding that there were gay men who hated bi guys on GP and even if they never encountered a bisexual guy and, sheesh, humans can be so fucking tribal that it doesn’t make any damned sense and I learned about this one while a gay dude was trying to give me a blowjob and thinking I was straight – and I’d let him keep thinking that and got more than an earful of why gay men thought that bisexual men weren’t worth shit.

I had asked him, “So, you had some bisexual dude do you wrong?” and he said that, to be honest, he never met a bi dude but if you were gay, you knew that all bi dudes were fucked up and to be avoided like the plague and… I didn’t have the heart to tell him that he’d been talking to a bi guy and, later, he’d spent quite a bit of time sucking me, a bi guy, off twice. Yeah, I’m on my way… to someplace else and thinking that I should have told him that he’d “slept with the enemy” but it didn’t change the fact that I didn’t and it wouldn’t have changed the fact that I thought it was totally fucked up to get your hate on about bi guys when, in fact, you’d never met one, let alone been in a position to potentially have your heart broken because the bi guy cheated on you and got some of that nasty-assed pussy and… I found it interesting that there were some very effeminate gay men who seriously did not like the women that they guys were behaving like.

I’d sometimes see “confrontations” between these guys and women and their position that they were more woman than the women they were arguing with and… what the fuck? Trying to out-woman the real thing? And women weren’t even trying to hear any of that crap and some of the arguments I would sometimes see were… interesting. If bi guys hadn’t done a whole lot to endear themselves to gay men, there were gay men who weren’t exactly shining a good light on effeminate gay men and those guys just didn’t seem to understand that you really do get more flies with honey than you do with vinegar.

But I would come to understand some of their disgruntlement because they were just like everyone else: Looking for someone they could call all their own. They, too, were looking for love, sex, and a relationship and, sad to say, many of them wound up falling for a bi guy who (a) wasn’t going to give up women and (b) would eventually cheat on the gay guy and go get some pussy and (c) the shit would hit the fan and, yeah, messy.

I didn’t really care if the guy was gay or not; if he could pass my three requirements, we could do something and, no, you weren’t going to pass giving me shit about being bisexual when I didn’t do anything to you to make you feel that way – but this was a lesson in something my mother taught: Take your anger out on the person who made you angry.

Kinda funny that, one day in my future, I’d find myself in a relationship with a very gay man who said that gay men are… messy and that one of the reasons why he fell in love with me was because I was bi and not gay. It wasn’t a condemnation of gay men but, really, just how things can go when you’re pursuing love, sex, and relationships; you’re going to fail more than you’re going to succeed and, okay, some bi guys are total assholes but if you continue to blame all of us for the bad behavior of one of us, yeah, I can see that we’re not going to get along all that much.

I’ve found myself telling some gay dudes who had a beef with bi guys, “You didn’t say that when we were having sex, did you?” Or “You didn’t think my being bi was all that bad when you were cumming in my mouth (or ass), did you?” And my favorite, “You didn’t think my being bi was all that bad when I had my dick buried in your ass!” Because, of course, they most certainly didn’t think that my bisexuality was a problem in those moments but if you were expecting me to launch right into a relationship, well, that’s something that has to be talked about but if you’re going to accuse me of cheating on you – and we’re not officially a couple, mind you – and making demands on me to forget women, well, no – I’m not doing that and it’s my position that there isn’t a dick out there anywhere that would make me not want to be bisexual.

If you wanna throw shade at me for being bi, well, I can throw shade with the best of them and it’s a goddamned shame that we have to behave like that – and I know that all gay men aren’t bad apples, but I was taught to not make one guilty of the “crimes” of someone else. I had some not-so-good sex with this one gay guy so does it mean that I should assume that the next gay guy is going to be just as bad or worse? No, I shouldn’t and, sheesh, I don’t know about anyone else but that’s a good way to make sure you won’t be getting any dick any time soon and more so when, at this particular point in time, I was more likely to run into a gay man who wanted to have sex than a bi or curious straight guy.

It didn’t help bi/gay relations to be aware that a lot of the stuff being said about bisexuals being greedy and unable to commit to just one person… wasn’t coming from the “straight community” although I’d hear some straight folks saying it and rehashing that ancient “pick a side and stay on it” bullshit when I happened to know some of them were… of a mind to not stay on their side of things, if ya know what I mean.

I never saw reason to play a numbers game as to the sexuality of the men (or women) that I had sex with… because it doesn’t make sense to me to do that and, honestly, I’ve had so much sex with a whole lot of guys that I wouldn’t remember what their sexuality was, so there’s that. I’ve never believed in that bullshit that if one is bad, all is bad but there’s no escaping… sexuality propaganda or how some folks formulate their opinions on faulty information or, yeah, they have a fucked-up experience and get it into their heads that just because it didn’t go right, it’ll never go right and the sexuality of the person they were with was to blame.

There was a time where the word on the street was do not ever sleep with a gay dude and because of some shit that may have had some basis in fact… but one person doesn’t make all persons guilty. Yeah, some guys would look at me sideways because they’d ask if I’d sleep with a gay dude and I’d say that I would if he wasn’t my idea of an asshole – and some of them would try to convince me that all gay men are assholes… and I knew better.

It’s one of the reasons why I say that bisexuality taught me about more stuff than just sex – it taught me about how people can behave when it comes to sex and sexuality and some of it… just ain’t pretty at all.

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: 05 May 24 @ 1017

Bisexuality is more than just the sex… but it’s also very much about the sex. It can make things… weird for some budding bisexuals given that we’re taught that having sex doesn’t have a lot of importance and especially in relationships but when the bug bites you, um, that crazy urge to, in the case of us guys, jump right on into the pool is pretty powerful and hard to resist.

Starting as young as I did, all I knew was the sex; sex with girls was a special treat and sex with boys was just another Saturday and I was too busy being a bad boy while learning stuff about why we have sex – and without knowing that I was but, yeah, I was becoming aware of some stuff based upon how guys were acting or behaving then toss in how hot and freezing cold girls were about having sex, getting that mixed message that said for us to not or ever have sex with someone we didn’t care about or love – but when you’re horny, well, horny doesn’t much care about those niceties and doing something about it now is much better than later… or not at all.

I don’t think that I was fully aware of how it changed the way I thought until I was 13 and, really, it was more like I knew it before then but just wasn’t paying a lot of attention to it until I was talking to this girl (and, yes, trying to get into her panties) and it came out that we both had something in common – we were both bisexual – and we’re comparing notes and it was the ease of having this conversation with her and being able to recall and share certain moments with her that made me fully aware that being bisexual had changed the way I thought and saw things.

Then we went to her room and had sex for the next two hours. I’d learned the how and why of her bisexuality, what she thought about it and she was different because she hadn’t been afraid to talk about it openly, unlike the other girls who I knew were going both ways – and acting like they weren’t, and don’t even think about asking them if they do because their answer was usually, “So what if I do?” – and you didn’t have an answer to such a question and if you were smart, you wouldn’t try to answer it (and especially if you were trying to get with her).

I knew that we – our society – was weird about sex and sexuality and thanks to the issues they had with homosexuality and being able to understand that the only reason why homosexuality was wrong was because the bible said so – but there were a lot of homosexuals and many of them were really kinda decent and not like the homosexuals who had a major chip on their shoulders and it was just stuff that made me think, that had me asking questions and looking for answers while trying to put it all into some kind of perspective as a whole and how it all pertained to me.

My brand of kid logic suggested that if I was only supposed to have sex with someone I cared about, loved, or was going to marry, well, um, if I cared about a boy, that meant I could have sex with him if he wanted to and I found that amongst my friends, I did care about all of them so having sex with them was justified – but maybe not the sex I was having with guys I’d just meet or didn’t know them long enough to really like them or care about them because unless you had reason to not like the guy, the sex could still be seriously good.

Being bisexual was more than being able and willing to have sex with guys and gals; it was also about how you purported and carried yourself as a person and a lot of other “grown up” things that, sometimes, got me into a bit of hot water with certain elders of my family who’d bust my ass about being too mature for my age and that I shouldn’t be but in my mind, when you find out that everything you were told about sex – and including everything you weren’t being told about it – was really a bunch of half-truths and lies, well, I guess I just wound up being too mature for my age and too smart for my own good.

I was learning to appreciate and understand the intellectual aspects of being bisexual or, really, those things that are involved in sex and sexuality as a whole and I was being inundated with a great flood of information – and that was just from the people I was having sex with – and then there was more information to be found in the public library if you knew where to look and how to use the library’s file system; that way, I never had to ask a librarian for a book that I probably didn’t have any business reading and was considered to be too adult in content.

And learning of the times in history where boys having sex with boys was allowed; that girls had their own special temples where they could worship “the gods” and where no men were allowed and the whole vestal virgin thing and learning that, um, just because they were unknown to man didn’t mean that they were unknown to their own kind – wink, wink. History was rife with examples of both homo- and bisexuality but neither were exactly being shone in a good light but that, too, was information to absorb and to understand and when I wasn’t having sex like it was going out of style, I was cramming all the information I could into my head because now, I realized that I was driven to understand this thing that changed my life.

And if I could understand it in others, it could lend itself to a better understanding of myself. Understanding that as nice as the sex could be, well, that was the easy part of being bisexual and what wasn’t so easy was making sense of being bisexual and trying to parse not really be straight but not really be gay – and, yeah, learning some stuff about being gay from guys who were, who thought they were, or they wanted to be gay and they were just giving bisexual a try – and then being able to get inside their heads to try to see things from where they were sitting and, honestly, I’m surprised that I didn’t make myself insane because when it came to sex and sexuality, it wasn’t what you could be told about it: It was about what no one wanted to talk about that had the greater impact.

I remember an older guy asking me if being bisexual was just an intellectual exercise for me and I guess based on the conversation we were having on the subject and I told him that it wasn’t and if he were to pull his dick out, it wouldn’t take a whole lot of intelligent discourse for me to suck him until he came – which he did but that wasn’t the point; the point was being “formally” introduced to bisexuality as an intellectual exercise – and then, after blowing him twice, finding out that until we got to sucking on each other’s dick, bisexuality was just an intellectual exercise for him.

Hmm – wasn’t that interesting? It sure as hell was and, even better, I understood what it meant but just because I was still absorbing all of the information I could, it didn’t mean that when it was time to throw down I was gonna take a pass on having the sex… unless I had reason not to and it’d be a shame if I did have reason not to.

And then, having a boyfriend. Holy shit – did that ever shake my whole world up and rewrote and revised everything I thought I knew! The biggest lesson learned was that you could love a guy and not be gay, which had me sitting down one day and looking back at my experiences with other guys to see how I felt about them emotionally… and shocked to find that there were guys who, if I didn’t really love them, I was damned close to loving them… and not like a brother which, actually, I thought was a cop-out guys used to deflect from the fact that they cared for a guy and, perhaps, more than just being friends.

Being with him opened my eyes in ways I didn’t know they could be opened and while I learned a whole lot about him and his gayness, I was learning a lot about myself and… some of it I didn’t like and that was totally on me. His femininity bothered the shit out of me and, intellectually, I knew that it shouldn’t but, then again, I wasn’t used to someone giving me a blowjob and crying tears of happiness and joy or I’m screwing them and they’re in tears and I’m thinking that I’m hurting him – but, no, he’s just that happy and I needed a major attitude adjustment.

It wasn’t that I’d never been with effeminate gay guys before him; I’d never been with someone who was that effeminate and who made those prior effeminate guys look downright masculine by comparison. I had a bias that I had to get rid of if I was going to really love him and like I really wanted to. I remember telling him about it one day and thinking that we were going to wind up breaking up – but he just laughed and said, “I had a huge bias against bi guys that I had to get rid of when I realized that I was in love with you and, to an extent, I still have it.”

We had a deep and meaningful – and intelligent – conversation about our biases, why we had them, and what we had to do to get rid of them and revised my thoughts about bisexuality being more than just the sex – sexuality is more than just the sex if you want to be bothered to look behind the curtain which, admittedly, isn’t as much fun as actually doing the deed with someone, but knowledge is power even when some of that knowledge has to do with you.

I sometimes tell folks that in my bisexuality, it’s not the sex that I had that carried the greatest importance: It’s what I learned from having the sex and what I learned without having the sex. I now understood what my parents and other elders didn’t want me to know and the majority of it was learned before I was an adult; I knew why sex with guys was bad, immoral, and taboo but, on the other hand, it couldn’t be that bad if there were so many guys doing the nasty to each other. Yeah, it could be that bad depending on the guy you were with but that just lent itself to knowing some shit about guys and a lot of it girls had already learned and hated about guys – and then learning not to be that guy with them… or with guys, too.

If you get more flies with honey, you get laid more when you’re not that guy, as it turned out and, yeah, I sure was getting mad, stupid laid and learning that despite what I heard others say, having sex is important and if you act like it isn’t, well, there might be something wrong with you… and not with me so much.

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: 04 May 24 @ 1107

I was idly going through the “new” forum yesterday and reading what the membership was saying when I got to thinking that being bisexual was more fun and exciting… before I became an adult.

Make no mistake, it was fun and exciting once I became an adult but at that time, being bisexual was, as I like to say, very much like breathing to me and it wasn’t something I had to think about unless I had a reason to and my decision processes as to who I was going to sleep with were more refined and, well, very adult-like, if that makes sense. The new Adult Me was very much aware of the perception of bisexuals, that we just ran around sleeping with anyone that was above ambient temperature, male or female, and all of the other “black marks” against us and I realized that, um, yeah, that was me before I was an adult!

But that was the fun of being bi and having sex and more so when I felt that I had a fairly innate understanding of sex, why we have it, and the things we’ll do to keep from having it and since girls and guys would tend to fall in that last category, it was always exciting to not only run into girls who wanted to have sex (and badly wanted to have their pussies eaten, yum, yum), but boys who may or may not have been curious about sex with other boys but now, they have reason to and I’ll say that it was usually my good luck and fortune to run into guys who, after some consideration, decided to give it a try and much to my joy and delight.

I’m reading the forum, and all of this is going through my mind and, I might add, not for the first time but it’s always interesting to see how my perception of myself might have changed over the years. I was charming enough to convince girls that, um, if we have sex, you won’t regret it and, yes, I guarantee you that I’m going to eat your pussy and for as long as you need it eaten and, no, I’m not joking or playing but if you don’t believe what I’m saying, there is a way for me to prove that I’m for-real. Yeah, sometimes, it didn’t work but that was and wasn’t okay… but almost at any given time of the day, I knew I would run into a guy who’d want to have sex or needed to; I knew the guys who would, they all knew me, and since there was a lot of us, it was very much like shooting fish in a barrel.

I usually didn’t have to do or say a whole lot to convince a guy that, look, you’re horny, I can see that your dick is hard and even I know what it’s like to have my balls aching and all I’m saying is that if you need to get off, I can do that for you and it’s not a problem. No, I’m not gay – I’m bi and I go both ways – but if you let me suck you off, it’s not going to make you gay – but you’re going to feel better.

And I wouldn’t usually mention that it would make me feel beyond heavenly. The guy would think about it for no more than two or three minutes – but it would seem like it would be longer than that – and when he would ask, “You’re sure I’m not going to turn into a flaming fag?” I knew that I had him and in a couple of minutes, I would be sucking on his dick and waiting with great anticipation to find out what his cum was going to taste like.

It was even easier with guys who were curious and in the, “Okay, I gotta do it!” phase of things; they would make it clear that they always wanted to know what it’s like and now they’re with a guy who does know what it’s like and while I can tell you, I think it would be a lot of fun if I were to show you and the guy could kiss his curiosity goodbye. Now it was on me to not disappoint them and to deliver the pleasure I said I would give them and while I would sometimes fail, it was rare that I did.

Being an adult, sheesh, trying to get a guy’s dick was like pulling teeth without Novocain or he was acting like I was asking him if I could stick a knife in his back – and the fear of becoming gay was a lot of pervasive and powerful with adults than it was when I was younger… and running around having sex with anyone above ambient temperature. Not that I was – or am – ashamed of this but making the transition from youth to adult had me rethinking a lot of stuff about sex and sexuality and especially all the shit I had been hearing and realizing that some of the stuff they were saying about bisexuals – and they were specifically talking about guys – was stuff that I was guilty of, yeah, like being greedy.

I was learning that trying to get at a guy’s dick was a “battle” between the logic of the situation and his emotional response or reaction and… logic didn’t always work. I would be with a guy who admits that he wants to suck dick, he’s glad that he’s found out that I love to suck dick and to be sucked and logic would highly suggest that since I’m home alone right now, we should go inside and do what we both want and need to do… and, again, the logic of it all would run into his emotional stuff and get broken and crumble because if he wasn’t worrying about turning into a gay dude, he was worried about everyone he knew finding out that he had oral sex with a guy.

I’m done with reading the forum but I’m still thinking about this and saw that when I was younger, I really didn’t have to do a lot of work to (a) get into a guy’s pants or (b) to let him into mine but as an adult? I had to work my ass off and I’d often be frustrated because it wasn’t like the guy in question wasn’t understanding what I was saying or felt that I wasn’t honestly answering his questions because he understood, and I wasn’t bullshitting him… but that emotional resistance would rise up and start cock-blocking both of us and I understood that it wasn’t really his fault – it’s just how the social conditioning we get goes but as I would sometimes tell a guy, “I understand if you’re leery about it but if I’m telling you that there’s nothing to be afraid of and you can’t or don’t believe me, I don’t know what else to tell you other than we’re both going to walk away from this conversation being horny – and now I gotta go home and jerk off.”

I would sit and listen to what a guy had to say about why he wanted to do this and why he hadn’t and… it was usually more of the same stuff I was hearing ever since reaching adulthood – and especially from guys in a relationship and, well, y’all know what I say about that condition. I understood his concerns but if you’re telling me that you have these concerns but you either want to find out what it’s like – or you already know and you want to do it again – well, what’s really stopping you? Logically, they know that nothing is really stopping them but that emotional resistance, driven by that insidious social conditioning and the bullshit being spread around, just defeated the logical aspects of the whole thing – and now a guy would find himself in that moment when he’s either going to say, “Fuck it…” to himself and agree to do it or his feet is going to get frozen and he won’t be able to go through with something that he knows that he wanted and needed to do.

I’ve told some guys, “Well, if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me…” and, yeah, I’d be miffed because I really wanted to blow him or to do whatever it was he had in mind but I had to accept that I can’t convince everyone that it’s really okay for us to have sex and that it’s really normal for guys to do this with each other – and you don’t have to be gay.

You just gotta want to do it.

The new Adult Me would find myself doing something I never did in my youth: Try to talk a guy out of doing it. Some guys… didn’t have their head in the right place and I really can’t explain what that means – I can only tell you that I knew that he didn’t. Some guys had too much to lose if it got out that he had sex with a dude – and they were too willing to sacrifice it all for a few minutes of sex with a guy (or however long it might take). I’d ask them why they wanted to do this then sit back and listen to what they had to say and… I knew that they shouldn’t do it, or they convinced me that I shouldn’t have sex with them because if I do, it’s going to be a problem that I don’t want to be bothered with and, yeah, just like a lot of stuff I learned about this, I learned this one the hard way.

Sometimes, the guy… wasn’t quite ready to take this next and very big step. Oh, he’d be close to being ready to take it – but not today and maybe not with me. Most of the time when I’d “advise” a guy that he probably doesn’t need to get into this, they would see the truth of my words to them and rethink things for themselves and sometimes they’d come back to me and now they’re ready. Sometimes, I’d tell a guy that I thought he’d be making a mistake if we do this but he’s “100% sure” that it’s not going to be a mistake and, yeah, sometimes, you really do have to learn the hard way.

And I would feel pretty shitty when they found out that, nope, they weren’t ready for this – and it was merciful that I didn’t have to say, “I told you…” because they just found out that I was right and now we’re into damage control and getting him to understand that not every guy can have sex with another guy; it always sounds like a good idea until you find out that it isn’t and while that’s fucked up, in a way, it’s okay because if you didn’t know, now you do – and take heart to know that it didn’t go well this time – but that doesn’t mean that it’ll always be fucked up because tomorrow’s a different day.

Shit, I had more success getting into women’s panties than I was getting into a guy’s BVDs. Convincing women, well, that’s never been easy but it’s that occupational hazard we accept if we want them and we want their bodies, too. Women had a long laundry list of concerns you had to deal with – but guys, eh, that laundry list was comparatively non-existent; a fear of becoming gay, a fear of everyone he knows finding out that he had sex with a dude and… that was about the size of it.

It was… something to see a guy’s intelligence get overridden by his emotions. I’d be making my “argument” as to why he should let me suck him off or why I’d like to have him fuck me and my arguments would be… eloquent, passionate and logical and homey would be like, “Yeah, I want to, but…” and I knew what the “but” was going to be because it was usually the same two things.

I could convince some guys that their fears were unreasonable and that they weren’t going to regret giving me their dick to suck and… sometimes I failed to, and you just had to learn how to accept failure but in the right frame of mind so that you can learn how and why you failed so that, next time, maybe you won’t fail. It would make me feel some kind of way to get turned down by a guy then see him the next day and he’s telling me how he regretted saying no and he wished that he hadn’t and… is the offer still on the table?

Sometimes it was, sometimes it wasn’t because I’d be frustrated and totally out of patience because, okay, look, my brother, how many times and how many ways can I tell you and explain to you that sucking your dick is just sex and nothing more than that? I’m horny and I can look down and tell that you’re horny and you’ve already said that you wouldn’t mind getting sucked off – but. And it doesn’t happen, and I’m seriously pissed to have gone through all of that only to come up empty – but now you wanna know if the offer is still on the table?

Oh, hell, no, it isn’t. And I had to do something about that frame of mind because if it’s true that you always give a woman a chance to change her mind, then you should give a guy that same chance and, sometimes, against my better judgement, I’d give them that chance, but to me, the sex we had wasn’t as good as it would have been yesterday and, yup, what a difference a day makes.

I remember talking to a guy about how hard it was getting to get some dick and telling him, “I didn’t have these problems when I was younger…” and that, yeah, I had more fun back then than I was having now, not that I wasn’t getting any dick, mind you, but now I have to work my ass off to get it when, back then, I didn’t have to work hard at all.

I’m not complaining but it was a learning experience for me and it’s stuff that when we talk about bisexual men, well, no one talks about. Making the transition from youthful (and gleeful) debauchery to trying to play and navigate the adult version of the game. Yeah, you kinda think that nothing’s going to change but then you find that it has and now the “problem” is that if you still want to be able to get some dick to go along with whatever pussy you’re getting, you’re gonna have to change as well.

It’s not that you have to or should forget “the way it used to be” because it was part of your growth as a bisexual male – and I can’t really say if it’s the same when you’re female and bisexual and making that transition from youth to adulthood – but it probably is similar.

Just some insights.

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: 02 May 24 @ 1025

If no one knows that you’re bisexual, can you really be fucked with about it?

This was a question I had asked on a now-defunct MSN forum for married bisexual males and addressed to the many of the membership who, by their own admittance, were hiding out in the closet so that no one would find out that they weren’t exactly straight. Not only being in the closet but cowering in paranoid fear of being discovered or outed – and it is to note that a lot of these men were not sexually active with men – but they had this fear just the same and took their place in closets of their own making.

Sure. Even as a young bisexual, me and my fellow bisexuals did not want it to be known that we went both ways and I wouldn’t say that we went into hiding in the closet because… we didn’t know there was such a thing but not only were we careful about who we did tell, we were honor-bound to not tell on ourselves or each other – and if someone snitched, deny everything which was kinda easy because the accuser would have to present proof and… how were they gonna do that? And, what those who would snitch never seemed to figure out was that, say, if you told somebody that I sucked your dick – and that meant I was gay – um, what makes you think that the people you told wouldn’t think that you were gay too, since, supposedly, I gave you a blowjob?

The snitches eventually figured it out but one thing was becoming clear to me: If no one knows that I’m bisexual, they can’t really fuck with me about not being straight because I’m not going to tell on myself and especially to someone who my instincts say, “Don’t say a word to them!” and that included my parents although, yeah, I suspected that they knew and didn’t give me any shit about it until I got caught in the act.

Oops… and damn.

I think back and try to remember how many times someone came “out of nowhere” and accused me of being a faggot and, um, usually because I pissed them off in some way, oh, like mopping the floor with them playing Monopoly or chess or besting them in other ways and, yeah, now I gotta get into “denial mode” about not being gay… because I wasn’t gay and I knew that I wasn’t… and nobody else needed to know that which made being able to get some dick kinda iffy because if I was interested in a guy, uh, fuck, I’d have to tell him how interested I was in him and why – and then, keep fingers and toes crossed that he didn’t lose his shit because I wanted to blow him (and maybe wanted him to fuck me). Consequences of getting it wrong went from being politely rebuffed to a fight starting and, yeah, the offended party running around telling everyone they knew that I was a cock-sucking faggot but, again, I might have been a cocksucker, but I still wasn’t a faggot.

Even back in the day, bisexuals had a “don’t ask, don’t tell” thing going on. If you asked – and I got the sense that you weren’t asking because you wanted to get naked with me, I’m not telling you anything – and those of us in the know would know who not to admit to not being all that straight and, yes, that still included parents and other family members because we were hearing the stories of what happened to homosexuals who were coming out… and it was a mistake for them to do so.

Like my mother used to say, “Don’t go asking for trouble!” If I thought you needed to know, I’d tell you but if I thought you didn’t, I just wouldn’t, and I didn’t care how much pressure you tried to put on me to confess to being a homo… because I wasn’t a homo. To this very day, there are people I know who are on my “they don’t need to know list” and I will never tell them, not because I’m afraid of reprisal but because I don’t have the patience to listen to what I know is dumb shit because, yeah, I messed up and told some people and had to listen to not just a raft of bullshit but a whole cargo ship full of it and coming from people who had no idea what they were talking about.

I understood why many of my fellow bisexuals were quick to hide in their self-made closet but I wasn’t going to do that because, on the one hand, I no longer cared who knew that I was bi – but I wasn’t going to go running around telling everyone that I was bisexual because common sense said that doing so was… rather stupid and careless and, yup, asking for trouble.

See, I could understand sexually active bisexual males keeping their activities on the down low, but I couldn’t understand why a guy who hadn’t had the sex yet wanted to ensconce themselves in the closet because, again, how can someone fuck with you about being bisexual if they don’t know that you are? I knew a lot of guys who hid in the closet and thinking they were safe from discover when, um, hello, the fact that they were in the closet – and being there had changed his behaviors – would tell someone that, hey, something’s not quite right with ole Herman – he’s been acting pretty weird!

And, sometimes, it wouldn’t take a whole lot to figure out that Herman has something to hide – and not too much more to figure out what he had to hide, i.e., he was having sex with men. But, today, we have a slew of bisexual men in the closet and in great fear of being discovered when… they haven’t done anything to be discovered doing, unless they could be found “guilty” of thinking about doing something with a guy and last I heard, we don’t live in a “Minority Report” society – and I thought that was a cool-assed movie.

I understood that weird feeling you can get that makes you a little paranoid because you’ve admitted to yourself that you like guys, too, and it just seems that everyone who lays their eyes on you knows that you like guys, too – because it took me quite a bit of time to shake that feeling because, um, how could they know that I’m not exactly straight? I’m not gonna tell and I had learned my lessons about having sex with guys who would tell. I’d gotten to the point that if you asked me about my sexuality, I just might tell you that I’m bi and… so what? Honestly, I didn’t mind watching someone make a total ass of themselves to be talking about something that they clearly didn’t know what they were talking about because they just “automatically” assume that I’m gay – and not paying one bit of attention to me telling them – honestly – that I’m not gay but I understood some stuff about that and beginning with… bisexuality being a joke and/or people just looking at the gay sex involved and, well, shit, he/she is in denial of really being gay when, um, no, we’re not in denial of anything – but you’re clearly in denial of understanding the truth and… none of us has any time for dealing with people who can’t accept certain truths.

A guy I wanted to blow tells me that he’s a closeted married bisexual male and since we’re doing this online, I was fine with rolling my eyes at this opening statement because it wasn’t the first or one-hundredth time that I’d seen and/or heard this particular opening statement. I’d ask them why they were in the closet when, by their own admittance, they hadn’t done anything with a guy since before they got married but, of course, he doesn’t want his wife to find out and I asked him, “How is she going to find out unless you tell her?” and, no, I didn’t bother to point out to him that some women… just know their man’s secret.

I never did get to suck his dick because he was too paranoid about someone finding out and I had kept asking him, “How are they going to find out unless you tell them what we did? I’m sure as fuck not going to tell them because I don’t know the people that you know! C’mon, man – this ain’t rocket science and we both clearly want to do this, and you have my word that I am and will be discrete!” And… that wasn’t good enough for him and like a turtle feeling threatened, it was back into the closet for him.

Again, I can understand hiding out in your closet if you’re out there doing the deed (and especially if you’re cheating on your woman to do it) …but I don’t pretend to understand hiding out in the closet when you haven’t done anything to keep hidden from people… except whatever stuff is going on in your head about having sex with men. It’s like… bisexual men are “born” in the closet; they become aware of their bisexual feelings and… right into the closet they go and trembling in fear of being discovered and/or outed… but I still don’t know how you can get outed for something that you haven’t done or, in some cases, you have no real intentions on doing.

I could see myself finding reason to hide in the closet but, nah, I’m not doing that because, to me, that says that I’m ashamed of being bisexual and ashamed of all the sex I’ve had with guys and… that’s a lie because I’m not ashamed of any of it and I’ve told people for decades, “If you don’t like it, all you can do is not like it – and I did tell you to never ask me questions you didn’t want to hear the answers to, didn’t I?”

My goodness, if I had a dollar for every time I’ve been told that I don’t look like the type. And remembering the day I figured out that “the type” meant being gay. Well, no – I suppose I don’t look like the type because I’m not gay; I just don’t have a problem getting some dick to go along with getting some pussy. If I had a dollar for every time I’ve had to deal with people trying to shoehorn me into picking a side! And understanding why they were trying to do it because they didn’t believe that I was someone who went both ways – and, yeah, who does that?

Go knocking on some closet door and you just might find out who does; I’m just not one of them and, really, I got tired of explaining myself a long time ago and if you don’t or can’t understand that I like to have sex with men and women, then I don’t know what to tell you; just leave it – and me – alone. For all the guys hanging out in their closet and for no reason other than what they’re thinking about, well, why are you there when you haven’t done anything to warrant being in the closet.

They feel that they do belong in the closet and there’s nothing I can do or say about that except to keep wondering why if you don’t have anything to hide from everyone around you and this self-imposed exile doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to me.

I see “closeted bisexual male/married male” so many times a day that I… no longer react to it by rolling my eyes or looking heavenward for some “divine intervention” to help these poor guys understand that if you haven’t done anything that you need to hide, then you don’t need to hide. I see what these guys want to do if they could find a way to do and, yup, without anyone finding out that they did; I see guys asking what’s the easiest way to come out to a friend, a wife, or girlfriend and a lot of guys saying to just come out and tell them and, um, shit, I wouldn’t do that but, then again, I learned that lesson the hard way and lost a bunch of friends, feelings got badly hurt, and other shit that didn’t have to happen if I hadn’t come out to them – but you always take your chances doing this and… it’s messy time again.

If no one knows that you’re bisexual, how can they fuck with you about it? Why are you in a self-imposed exile in your closet when you haven’t done anything to warrant being there and when I say “anything,” that includes anything you might have done back in the days of your youth because that, too, will be held against you if you tell someone that you’re bisexual or, yeah, you inadvertently give them reason to suspect that you might not be as straight as you say you are – and guys do this, by the way, and aren’t even aware that they’re doing stuff that could out them.

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: 01 May 24 @ 1026

If I had a dollar for every time someone asked me what I got out of having sex with dudes, I… don’t know what I’d do with the money. Maybe just deposit it in the bank or something.

If I’m having sex with a guy, um, uh, what do you think I might be getting out of it? Oh, that would pretty much be the same thing I get out of having sex with a gal: I get to have sex and I get to bask in the intimacy of having sex and if there’s something else you can get out of it, well, what else can you get out of it? Sure, you can throw the disease card out there, but you can toss it out there for having sex with women, too, and there is a reason why my elders would loudly proclaim how dirty and nasty sex is – and they weren’t talking about how sweaty and messy sex can be.

Which I’m thinking wasn’t stopping them from getting laid – but that’s not really the point. You could find yourself emotionally involved with someone but that would depend on how good the sex was with them; sex with some guys was… sex, while sex with other guys was like, wow, I really like him, and things could get kind of serious – but short of suggesting that we be boyfriends and just remain boy friends who had a growing intimate knowledge of each other. The distinction was important to ward off The Specter of Gayness that our elders used to haunt us with and with all the doom and gloom attached and it wasn’t as if none of us didn’t understand what we were being told – it just conflicted with what we knew for a fact:

Having sex with a boy is fun. Kinda different than sex with a girl but not really and boys would want to do it more than girls would which was all well and good when puberty showed up and just shook everything up and to the extent that it made having sex with guys an imperative of sorts since now, we were producing the dreaded baby-making stuff that girls were being made to be very afraid of by their female elders.

I had a girl friend ask me what I got out of doing it with a boy and I had one hell of a time trying to explain it to her and, no, I didn’t have the wherewithal to simply say, “I get to have sex!” and I’m pretty sure I confused myself more than I confused her. I remember her saying, in a huff, that boys were supposed to do it to girls and, well, yeah, I knew that but I did ask her if I could do it to her and… she said no and looked at me like I just told her I was going to murder her – and I wound up proving a point without really being aware that I did and, yeah, I would realize that I had a few days later.

I would come to understand why people would ask this question because while we “knew” about guys and gals getting naked and doing the nasty, it was inconceivable to think about two guys doing it (but not a lot of talk about two gals doing it except to wonder how they could fuck) and that was because, yeah, you guessed it, boys weren’t supposed to be doing that… which did not change the fact that we were and not just because girls tended to say no more than they said yes:

It was because having sex with a guy could feel pretty damned good, from sucking a guy off and being sucked off by him and right down to us fucking each other and, yeah, sometimes, without penetration being involved. It just made sense that it was better to be a guy and one who was having sex than it was to be a guy who wasn’t having sex.

When you got right down to it, what I got out of having sex with guys was I got to suck their dicks and gulp down their cum; I got to get screwed and creamed; I got to lie back and watch a guy sucking my dick until he made me cum and, yep, I got to screw and cream a guy and, importantly, without either of us complaining about what we were doing to each other.

Well, except for those guys who’d say, “Don’t stick it in too far!” and even most of those guys would want it stuck in as far as you could get it once you stuck it in them. Those guys still make me laugh.

Another girl friend, many years later, asks me what I got out of it and now I could tell her exactly what I got out of it: Sex. I got to have sex and especially in a time when trying to have sex with girls was damned near impossible, which got her defending her right not to give it up to anyone and pointing out all of our male shortcomings and, yeah, yeah, it’s not like I’d never heard this before but it’s like I told her when she finally ran out of steam: When it’s between us guys, all of that stuff you mentioned doesn’t matter. You either wanted to do it or you didn’t and if you did, you did so without complaints, having to make promises, and all that other stuff that girls demanded from us and even if we were ready to comply with their demands, that still might not get us between their legs.

I’ve written time and time again about those guys who were desperate to have sex and it was so bad for them that they couldn’t get the easiest girl in the hood to give him some and I’d sometimes find myself answering their question about, um, if they decided to do this, uh, what do they get out of it and I’m thinking, “Duh… you really don’t get it do you?” even as I tell them, “You get to bust a nut or two or three – what else do you want to get out of it?”

I understood that they, like so many others, was firmly of a mind that sex with a dude was not only different from sex with a girl but it was also unimaginably different. So, okay, I could see why they’d ask what they would get out of it and sometimes, ugh, they still didn’t quite get it and I had to remind them that they came to me about this and not the other way around and, look, if you really want to know what you can get out of this, get your dick out and I’ll show you.

And if they did, they quickly found out what they could get out of it. I’d have some guys ask, after I drained their nuts, what I got out of it and… I got to have sex; I got to suck dick again; I got to slurp down a guy’s cum; doing this gives me a great deal of satisfaction – and if he was to do the same to me, that’s even more satisfaction but the bottom line was still… I got to have sex.

One guy said, “If we do this, we ain’t gonna be boyfriends!” and I said, “Works for me… because I don’t want to be your boyfriend.” It was one of those many moments where, today, I’ll say that gay men didn’t do us bi guys any favors because the “trend” at the time was, look, we can have sex but we ain’t ever going to be boyfriends and if shit starts to get clingy, it’s over with!

And all because those effeminate gay men very much wanted to get clingy and especially if the dick was good to very damned good to them. Which, I would learn, didn’t make bi guys BFF material because we weren’t of a mind to be in a relationship with a guy and like we’d want to be with a woman – let’s just have sex and leave it at that and hearts got broken and bi guys’ rep got even more trashed.

Things could get pretty messy and overloaded with a lot of drama but even in the midst of all of this insanity, it was about keeping one’s eye on the prize and being aware that if you didn’t get anything else out of having sex with a guy, you got to have sex and, hopefully, you got to have sex with a guy who also got you off, which wasn’t always the “given” one might have expected.

Nothing sucked more than a guy leaving you feeling used and if you didn’t know how and why women felt the way they did about men, now you know why. Yeah, even I had a hard time dealing with those jokers and trying to see the silver lining in the dark clouds those clowns would bring to the table. The bottom line would still be… I got to have sex… even if it was one-sided. Understanding that it was a lot of fun… until it wasn’t. Oh, well, you just keep living and learning and keep it moving forward.

It’s 2024 and guys want more out of this than just sex and it’s understandable, but it also makes getting some dick even harder when you consider that there are still a lot of guys who do not want to be someone’s FWB – they just wanna have sex and go on about their business and, really, I noticed this change in the dynamic way before 2024 came to be and, really, being someone’s FWB wasn’t really a bad thing… until someone got clingy and demanding or otherwise just being very weird about things.

I’ve had some guys look at me weirdly because I’m not one of those guys who’s looking to get an FWB out of having the sex and some of them have insisted that I have to get more out of it than just sex and my question to them has been… why? What I want is simple: I want his cum and I want to give him mine and if neither of us wants anything more than that, um, what’s the problem?

And, today, it’s perceived to be a problem and it’s why I keep saying that we continue to make this harder than it has to be… because we don’t know how to keep it simple. FWB is… optional, not mandatory and maybe it’s just me but FWB is not the reason to want to have sex with a guy; it’s not a goal to be achieved and like being able to get a girlfriend, make her your fiancée, marry her, all that good heterosexual stuff that we’re supposed to do. I mean, sure – if we wind up being FWBs, I’m not really going to object because I long since learned how possible it can be – but that’s not the sole purpose of having sex with guys: That would be to have sex.

Duh, right? I think so but I could be wrong.