Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: 04 December 22

If you wanted to know about bisexuality, what are the ways you can do this? Thanks to the Internet, there’s a lot of information available although, personally, I’d take a lot of it with a huge block of salt (but that”s me), but, yeah, there’s some good stuff to be read and considered.

You could do an even better thing: Ask a bisexual. I think one of the mistakes some folks make is to ask someone about this and not only are they not bisexual, but they might also not have any good thoughts or information to pass on other than telling the inqusitive person what they wouldn’t do and all that. It is not to say that someone who isn’t bisexual can’t be knowledgeable but there’s always that chance that they’ll tell you what they know and… tell you what they wouldn’t do and suggest that you don’t, either.

And, yeah, I have done that with some guys because listening to them tells me that, nope, they’d be better off not going there or to give things some more and serious thought before proceeding and, sometimes, even more so when I suggest that they don’t and… they don’t. Why? Because I found that going in this direction takes both commitment and determination to find out what this is all about. Unless, of course, they realize that I’m right about them not being ready for this.

Or, you can do what I know a few guys did: Ask a couple of dick-friendly guys if they can watch the sex happening. What’s that you say? Ew? Dude must be some kind of pervert? You wouldn’t want someone just sitting there watching you getting your cookies crumbled? Sounds interesting and fun?

Yeah, I remember the first time me and couple of friends were roaming around the neighborhood looking for something productive to do – and read this as something that might also get us into a little trouble – when “Tommy” turned to me and said, “We should go do it…” and I readily agreed that we should since there was nothing else or better to do… but I cut my eyes over to “Eddie,” a guy we all knew was one of the biggest chickens ever hatched and upon hearing Tommy suggesting that he and I go do it, Eddie got… that look on his face that said that he’d rather be anywhere other than with us.

There was no such thing as me and Tommy not doing it just because Chicken Eddie was with us and… off we went to the closest hideout. As we’re on our way, Eddie is bombarding us with questions about why are we gonna do it to each other (because we’re horny, dummy!) and what are we gonna do (we’re gonna suck and fuck each other – what do you think we’re gonna do?) and what is it like (if you weren’t a chicken, you’d know what it was like… you big chicken) and made me and Tommy get what I’ll call identical “what the fuck” looks on our face when Eddie asked, “Well, um, can I watch so I’ll know?”

Tommy and I are looking at each other like we’re having a telepathic conversation; he shrugs and I shrug and Tommy says, “I don’t care if you watch…” and I echoed his response and I wanted to get to the hideout because I really liked doing it with Tommy and this delay was getting on my nerves. But we get there and immediately get rid of everything we were wearing and got right to sucking each other off and… Eddie has quesstions.

“How come you didn’t kiss first?” he asked. I knew why he asked because the girls who’d let us do it to them insisted that we kiss them first.

“Boys don’t kiss,” Tommy said – but that was a white lie because I’d kissed some guys before we did it but Tommy was essentially correct.

Tommy goes back to sucking me and I admit that we kinda “telepathically” agreed to put on a show for Eddie, complete with greatly exaggerated sounds and Tommy stopping to “tell me” how good I was sucking his prick or how good mine felt in his mouth.

Eddie taps me on the shoulder and asks, “What does his dick taste like?”

I stop and I’m… irritated but I answer his question with a question: “Why don’t you come over here and find out?” He declined, I shrugged and went back to working on getting Tommy to shoot his stuff in my mouth and, yeah, when he did a couple of minutes later, I made a big deal out of telling Tommy how good his stuff tasted and how much he shot in my mouth but, of course, I’m not telling Tommy anything he didn’t know already but the show was all for Eddie’s benefit.

I have to back up just a bit to mention that when Eddie saw us naked, his dick got hard and was literally poking out like a tent pole in his shorts.

I shoot into Tommy’s mouth a moment or two later and, yeah, a bit of showtime for Eddie’s benefit with me practically yelling like Tommy was murdering me in cold blood and him moaning like a ghost and making sure that Eddie heard him swallowing. In retrospect, we shouldn’t have messed with Eddie like this; normally and when Tommy and I did it to each other, we were pretty quiet about it except for the “usual” grunts and groans.

We get out of the 69 position and making exaggerated movements with our tongues as we licked our lips and like our stuff was te best thing we’d ever tasted – which wasn’t really a lie – and Eddie’s asking what the stuff tastes like and all that and we both invited him to find out but, no, he wanted to keep watching. I shrug, Tommy shrugs, and we turn to deciding which one of would be fucked first and, um, I volunteered and got right to the business of getting Tommy dick hard again before quickly getting to my stomach, hearing Tommy putting a lot of spit on his dick and feeling him diving right into me. So good and it hurt pretty good, too, but it always did.

Eddie’s so close to us that if he were naked, his dick would have been in my mouth and on its own as he’s asking us questions about what it feels like, does it really hurt and it’s distracting both of us and I could tell that Tommy was getting mad because he was fucking me harder than he usually did but despite Eddie’s interruptions, I was able to enjoy the “nasty” sensations of him shooting his stuff in me and, yep, Eddie’s asking me what it feels like but I’m too caught up in what I’m feeling to answer him in that moment.

Tommy and I switch places and as I’m fucking Tommy, Eddie’s asking me if doing it in Tommy’s hiney feels good, bad, or different from doing it to a girl and in her pussy and, as you might expect, I don’t want to answer him but I try to and it’s distracting and I hear Tommy mumble that he wishes that Eddie would – gasp – go the fuck on somewhere and leave us alone and I pretty much felt the same way but I ignore Eddie’s presence and questions so I could shoot my stuff into Tommy. I pulled out (and almost giggled when I heard that squishy “pop”) and Tommy and I both looked right at Eddie and gave him our best, “Okay, what are you gonna do?” looks.

I would, later in the day, tell Tommy that I had noticed that Eddie had a big wet spot in the front of his pants because he had shot his stuff in his underwear. But Eddie is on the spot and he decides that given what he just saw us doing, he wanted to do it now and, I think, probably more so when Tommy and I told him that he could do it with a boy and still do it to girls. And… we had fun with him. He was scared at first but stopped being scared when Tommy and I decided to have a contest to see which one of us could make him shoot in our mouth.

Tommy won but that wasn’t the point. I won the bet we made about Eddie sucking my dick (and, yes, it was cleaned off) and me shooting my stuff in his mouth and Tommy bet that Eddie would get sick and throw it up and… he didn’t; Eddie swallowed my stuff like a champ. All and all, it was a very productive afternoon and Eddie got to find out that he didn’t have to be a big yellow chicken anymore.

A lot of years later and in a similar situation, I’m hanging with a couple of guys, drinking beer and getting pretty horny. The, ah, dick-friendly guy just blurts out that he needs his dick sucked and he’s looking right at me when he says it and I’m smiling because I wanna suck his dick and get mine sucked but we exchange a look that said, “Okay, but what we gonna do with him?” We both turn to look at him and he says that he has always been curious about how two dudes get it on and if we were going to do something, could he watch? I didn’t care and the other guy had to think about it for a moment but agreed that homey could watch; we go inside and get our dicks out to be sucked and… our third wheel is asking a lot of the same questions Chicken Eddie had asked so long ago. We didn’t put on a show for this guy but, eh, okay, we answered his questions in between trying to suck each other off, like, it is really different when a dude sucks your dick and when a babe does it?

Stuff like that. He eventually said that watching us made him really horny and after a few more questions, got his chance to find out what it was like to suck dick (and taste cum) and to get sucked by a guy and that, importantly, it didn’t have shit to do with not liking sex with women and this was… just something that some guys didn’t have a problem doing.

Many years later, I’m telling a guy who was looking for his first experience about these two moments and told him that while he could easily watch porn that has two guys getting their freak on, there was no opportunity for him to ask questions and misses out on the full sensory aspects; he could hear guys moaning and groaning – and some of it was dubbed in post-production – and you can see the looks on the guys’ faces but there’s a scent to sex that is obviously absent when you’re watching it on a screen but, importantly, that, sure, he could find a couple of guys who don’t mind being watched but he should be careful about what he asks for because some find that they think they can watch it for real… and find out otherwise.

I finished by telling him that watching it live, up close and personal, was a good way to get more information since, if the guys being watched didn’t mind all that much, he could ask questions about what he’s looking at but if he really wanted to know what it’s like to (a) have sex with a guy and (b) still very much love having sex with women, nothing beats actual experience.

I didn’t know if he found two guys willing to let him watch but I ran into him a couple of weeks later and he said that I was right and… for a moment, I’d forgotten what I might have been right about but he reminded me when he said that he got to watch two guys going at it and that made him make the decision to dive on in and have sex with them and if I wasn’t doing anything, could we go somewhere so he could suck my dick?

Sure we could. What was of greater import was what he had to say about his bisexual thoughts and how watching two guys having sex – and then “putting his big boy panties on” and joining them answered a lot of the questions he had about having thoughts and feelings for both men and women. He said that I was right when I had said that being right there and seeing it happening had shook him up quite a bit, but he made himself stay put and watch what the guys were doing, and I congratulated him for being able to do that and it spoke to his determination to find out what he needed to know about this.

He admitted to being afraid when he got up the nerve to ask them if he could join them and I allowed that being afraid is very normal but it again spoke to his determination that he asked them and he didn’t chicken out when they readily agreed that he could – but if he had, there was nothing to be ashamed of because thinking about doing it really isn’t the same as being able to do it and he smiled and agreed that taking one guy’s dick in his mouth was both highly exciting and made him want to haul ass at the same time.

If you really wanna know, there are ways to find out what bisexuality is about and, yeah, what the sex is really like. You could, if it was possible, watch it happen live and in person and it… takes care of shedding any modesty or other feelings about actually watching someone having sex, something that can be quite upsetting given how this is so very private. You get the sights and sounds and, again, if they don’t mind, ask questions and get answers but it has always remained true that if you really want to know what it’s like to have sex on the other side of the fence, well, find it within yourself to do it and discover what so many almost immediately discover other than the sex being good:

It doesn’t change your thoughts and feelings about women. It doesn’t immediately turn you into an effeminate gay man and, yeah, like a lot of guys have said that they believe would happen. You can read all about it. You can watch all the “bi or gay” porn you can get away with but I have always believed that if you want to know what it’s like to be bisexual, ask a bisexual and if you, again, really want to know, sure, seeing it in person is an option so you can get the fuller sensory experience and if you want to jump in the pool, it’s okay.

But you do have to be both determined and committed to find out one way or the other. It’s better to be able to make an informed decision about this than to try to go about this and being uninformed or getting “bad” information or, yeah, being misled by what you might see watching porn. It’s obviously not an easy decision to make and, again, the more information you have to work with, the “easier” the decision can be.

Tommy and I got together the next day and our main topic of discussion was about Eddie not being a chicken anymore. He had asked, “Does it make you feel funny to have someone watching you do it?” and I had to think about it for a moment before telling him that, at first, it felt weird but it also felt exciting but once I really got into it, I wasn’t really paying attention to the fact that someone was watching me doing the nasty and I guessed that it just didn’t bother me after that first time. Then we went off to do it.

I ran into Eddie later in the day and he was… bubbly. Talked my ear off about how scary and exciting it was to watch me and Tommy doing it to each other and was even more scary but exciting to do it with us. He said that after he left us, he got to do it to “Sherry,” who I knew was one of the Hot in the Ass girls and he said that doing it to her was different but it kinda wasn’t but what was it like to kiss a boy? I laid one on him and with a lot of tongue and while I didn’t know why I did – because I’d kissed a few guys and it was pretty yucky – but I kissed Eddie and it felt pretty good and, yup, it made my dick so hard that it hurt and I guess it had the same effect on him because we practically ran to a hideout so we could do it to each other.

I learned that it’s okay to ask questions and that the answers might not be good or what you’re trying to find out but, sometimes, asking questions can get you some really good answers, too. Eddie got to watch me and Tommy do it to each other and, well, it convinced him that he could be like me and Tommy and go both ways. I can’t say how difficult a decision it was for him… because he didn’t say and I didn’t know enough to ask him – and something I would correct later on.

Happy sighing. You can read a lot of stuff online about bisexuality and that’s a good thing. You can watch the porn that’s available, but it could leave you with more questions than answers because watching it on a screen doesn’t “tell the whole story” and, yeah, what you’re watch is a story and the people having sex on the screen is… putting on an act for your excitement and benefit. If you want a more personal source of information, you could ask someone and soak up whatever they have to say about it and your results are going to vary since a lot of people tend to tell you what they think more than they tell you what they actually know.

Or, you could just find a bisexual and ask them – and provided they’re willing to talk to you about something that is very damned personal to them. If, by chance, you could watch it happening, yeah, that’ll effect some changes and it just might be interesting – and I’m not talking about what you’re seeing them doing because it can be very weird and disturbing to actually watch two people having sex because it’s supposed to be done privately and without witnesses. Or, yeah, if you really wanted to know (a) if you can really do all that stuff you’ve been thinking about and (b) you can really do it, well, you know what you gotta do.

I can tell you what it’s like and in great detail… and you’re finding out what my thoughts and feelings are. Not a bad thing (or it could be if the juicy details wind up bothering you) and I learned to keep the sugar out of things because if I don’t tell you how bad it can be, you can’t make a truly informed decision and, sadly, I’ve seen what happens to people who don’t have all of the facts and it’s not pretty.

There’s just no such thing as too much information when inquiring about this bisexual thing. I maintain that you don’t have to believe me but if you really want to know, the truth is out there and waiting for you to find it.

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: 03 December 22

The question that just popped into my head is, “Is bisexuality different today than it was back in the day?”

The answer is: Um, nah, I don’t think it really is because society in the mid-1960s – and when I emerged as a bisexual – was just as weird about it as it is today with people running around losing their minds over those men and women who weren’t straight and weren’t gay. The persistent and insistent mindset of the times that said that people had to pick a side even though one of the available sides – homosexuality – was considered a bad choice to make.

For guys – and bisexual ones – living under the stigma stapled to homosexual men was a bitch and a half to deal with when, in fact, you weren’t homosexual – you just liked or loved having sex like you were and trying to get people to understand that, yeah, okay, I sleep with guys… but sleeping with women isn’t the “afterthought” I’d heard some insist what was “really” going on with me and those like me and all too often being lumped in with those scary “straight-acting” gay men and my thoughts that these guys were scary because, publicly, they behaved like straight men so being able to identify a gay man kinda stopped being “easy” but, yep, those more… flamboyant guys were still letting the world know that gay men existed and were here to stay.

The in-fighting hasn’t changed much except we can now air out our dirty laundry publicly thanks to social media. There were gay dudes who, oddly, liked to chase straight guys but didn’t like guys like me all that much, which threw me for a loop back then and more so when I was of a growing mind that in order to be able to have sex with someone, it wasn’t enough to just be horny – you had to be able to establish some kind of commonality with the object of your lust and, well, guys like me most definitely had something in common with our gay brothers but what trashed this “obvious” common ground was that we really weren’t like them because we weren’t just about guys.

You get tired of being told to just admit that you’re gay… when you aren’t. Or you run into a guy who, um, bluntly, makes your dick hard and you very much want some biblical knowledge of him and, okay, he’s gay – not a problem – but the moment he hears that I’m bi, well, I’m persona non grata. I’d come to understand that a lot of this angst toward bi guys came from the fact that some gay men fell in love with a bi guy and… got their hearts and souls crushed because the bi guy wasn’t really about “settling down” with a dude and because said guy still had a thing about women which, um, made sense if homey was bi.

It was also a bitch and a half to be blamed for something some other guy did and a full two bitches when you had no idea about who fucked this guy’s heart up. Guilty by association is… a thing. If one is bad, all are bad and uncovering that disturbing behavior that says once we learn how to hate, it’s almost impossible to unlearn it but, yeah, I understood it because getting your hopes up and/or getting your feeling crushed into paste and then stomped on one more time for good measure was some fucked up shit and that’s being nice about it.

If there’s any real difference, it’s that the issues are highly visible. Another is what I’d call a lot of confusion over how bisexuality is being defined and y’all already know that I have some issue over how that’s being done but social media has allowed us to climb up onto our soap boxes and tell everyone what we think and in ways that, when you cut through all of the clutter, hasn’t done a thing to change the basic premise of bisexuality:

You have an affinity for males and females that can be sexual, emotional, or both. Anything other than this is… overly gilding the lily and not accepting the simplicity of this and, yes, I very much remember stumbling across the definition of bisexual that was pretty clear-cut and totally on-point. I would say that from my perspective, bisexuality was “simpler” than it is today because if you went both ways, that just meant that you weren’t straight, and you weren’t gay and you must be out of your greedy-assed mind and, yep, time to pick a side. Same old prejudices, same old acts of violence, same old social stigmas, and the same old lack of understanding, which has always baffled me because this isn’t difficult to understand and learning that if we – humans – are really good at something, it’s taking something and making it a hell of a lot more complicated than it really is.

I remember our USAF drill instructor telling us about the KISS principle: Keep it simple, stupid. He explained it to us – after we stopped laughing at how he said this – and it really struck home for me to just look at something for what it was and dealing with it and without making it hard on yourself to do and/or understand. That also made sense as far as my being bisexual was concerned – just keep it simple but also with the “new” understanding that other people won’t do this and, yeah, this’ll make things less simple for me.

Like, sometimes, it wasn’t enough for me to simply say that I liked men and women and not have to listen to a lot of stuff about which did I like more and those annoying questions that were all about making limited choices, i.e., if I had to choose between a man or a woman, which would I choose – and those who’d ask me stuff like this not seeming to understand that I would choose both. Well, okay, but which one would you choose to sleep with first? And then not understanding that I wasn’t be sarcastic or anything like that when I’d say, “Whoever I got to first.” Or me telling them that no matter who I went after first, I wouldn’t say no or ignore the other person in this. Wait, what… you’d sleep with both at the same time?

Sure I would. I have. And seeing that “Who does that?” look on their faces and that they just didn’t understand. Or, yeah, as one guy asked, “It can’t be that easy, can it?” Yep – it really is that easy but in order for it to be easy, one must disabuse themselves of some… stuff and, yeah, you really do get sick and tired of people telling you that you can’t be what you said you were and telling you what they think you had to be – yep, straight or gay and, jeez.

I still remember my reaction to hearing the word, “heteroflexible.” Then hearing what it meant. The guy who said that this is what he was went on for quite a while and didn’t say anything that convinced me that he was anything other than bisexual – and then he got pissed with me when I pointed that out to him. That was about the time when I learned that there were folks who had a problem with the word “bisexual” and they were, essentially, mindfucking themselves into believing that they were something other than what they really were or, the failed to apply KISS to themselves.

During my emergence, the only mindfucking we did was emphatically stating that we weren’t gay, sissy, faggots. Yeah, there were some guys who convince themselves that they really didn’t like guys like that but didn’t mind getting busy with a guy while still being very damned interested in getting with women. It was hard for some to admit that they went both ways back then and, well, it’s hard for some to admit it today. Indeed, upon hearing the word, “pansexual” and the woman who said it defined it for me, I had asked her, “How is that different from being bisexual?”

And a lot of years later, I still don’t know because even though I understand that gender is involved, well, it’s still bisexuality and no matter how a person sees their gender and while I’d not say that one’s view of their gender isn’t important to them – because it is – bisexuality doesn’t much care about gender as long as you like boys and girls sexually, emotionally, or both. We, on the whole, were failing to keep it simple back in the day and we’re still continuing to fail to do this. Someone said to me that bisexuality today isn’t the same as it was when I was growing up and… they failed to convince me that they were right about that because they didn’t say anything about what’s going on today that wasn’t going on back then.

The only real difference is our ability to put it all out there for anyone to see. Over all this time, man, I’ve seen some shit that has left me scratching my head and in some forms that I just do not understand or, as I’ve said at time, I understand quantum mechanics better than I do some of the stuff I’ve seen written as a lot of people are trying to either make sense of bisexuality or are putting their own spin on it and like bisexuality is anything other than what it really is.

You like boys. You like girls. For love, sex, or relationships which, by the way, never defines sexuality. One of those three things or all of the above. Simple, right? Yeah, not so much and we have this… need to overly qualify things in this and I better understand what all those people were saying about bisexuals being in denial but, yeah, they weren’t really seeing the whole picture – or the one I’ve been seeing all along – that says there are a lot of bisexuals who are, in their own unique ways, in denial of being bisexual, you know, the whole boys and girls thing, sexually, emotionally, or both. Some tend to blame the social stigma for this and they’re not totally wrong about that because it’s the same stigma I grew up with… except, I think, it didn’t make the bisexuals of my generation all that weird about being bi because no matter what was being said, we knew what we were and there was no doubt about it and no need to qualify and quantify things.

We kept it simple. So, yeah, it’s different today than it was before because today’s views lack simplicity and while the social stigma does get people messing with their own minds, it seems to me that if you’re bisexual and you’re not keeping it simple, that’s not society’s fault – that’s your fault. Bisexuality is what it’s always been; it has the same problems that it’s always had and it still “galls” me to understand that I just flat out missed something really important when a reader commented that from one generation to the next, bisexuality is something new and… well, damned if he wasn’t right on the money.

And whatever consternation I have going on is due to the fact that this isn’t something new to me and, again, missed some stuff that I actually did see from my generation to the next one and like how my children’s generation was more okay with going both ways than my generation was – and, believe me, we were all up in it – but they, too, faced the same problems my generation did and being very and more concerned with the social stigma and, like my generation, being outed as “really being gay.” But if you went both ways, cool. Parents were still going out of their way to make sure their children were straight and stayed that way but nothing really new about that, right?

More emphasis on relationships as a determining factor and even I had to deal with being asked if I would ever be in a “real relationship” with a guy and, well, I did, but there was that qualifier that implied that if I were to be in a relationship with a dude, that had to mean that I didn’t like women or, gasp, I’d be forced to give up women and, well, the former was never true and the latter didn’t make any damned sense because it wouldn’t be me being bisexual. Give up women. Your mind has gone seriously bad, hasn’t it? But I understood this because much of our sociosexual interaction is about one man, one woman and anything that resembles homosexuality, well, hmm. Hope you have your fireproof underwear handy.

And the very real thing that the only allowable sex is relationship sex. The tenets of monogamy that are so insidiously invasive that you are not allowed to even think about being interested in someone else if you’re already in a relationship and I don’t know about anyone else, but it pissed me the fuck off because society felt – and still feels – that it has the right to tell me what I can think and feel and who my thoughts and feelings should only be about.

Yep, one of the things that fueled my headlong rush into bisexuality was being rebellious because no one was going to tell me who I could like and who I could have sex with and that if I had a girlfriend, I was not allowed to think or feel anything for anyone other than her. And way back then, I took the same risks of having to face reprisals and being ostracized for not being straight or gay that hasn’t changed at all over the intervening decades.

People today are of a mind that being bisexual is still the greatest thing since sliced bread. People today still get “the shit shocked out of them” to find that they do have thoughts and feelings about both men and women. People today still try it and find that they like it or they don’t. Things like race, color, creed, age and all that other stuff we love to fuss about still doesn’t matter when it comes to being bisexual because the only thing that really matter is what one is thinking, feeling and what, if anything, they choose to do about it – and then being sorely afraid to do anything because society is going to kick their ass for not being the way they’re supposed to be and with today’s grudging acceptance for gay folks which, yeah, that’s a huge difference from when I was growing up.

The riffing between bisexuals and homosexuals hasn’t changed. That some heterosexuals are not in my backyard about bisexuality hasn’t changed but, yeah, homophobia is still a socially imposed affliction that many suffer from but the new kid on the block, “biphobia,” is just homophobia in different clothing because the basic premise remains the same – we just changed the target to be shot at and put down. Shit, there were people back then who was scared to death of me more because I was bisexual than anything else and this, too, hasn’t changed. The only thing that has really changed are… the people. The “game” is still the same and only the “players” are different and in this, their perception is different and, yep, not all that simple but, again, if there’s something we can turn into a seriously confusing mess, we’re gonna make it messy because it can’t be that simple… can it?

That we stick to what we believe more than we do the obvious truth hasn’t changed. Bisexuals were a joke back in my day and we still are because we weren’t real back then and we’re not real now. The lunacy we have displayed about sexuality hasn’t changed and more so when there is no fucking way in hell that I am the only male bisexual on a planet that numbers in the billions. And continually failing to keep it simple. You don’t have to admit this to anyone, but you do have to admit it to yourself and the funniest thing I have ever heard – and still hear today – is, “It’s not something I’d do all of the time.”

I’m bisexual all of the time but like everyone, I don’t have sex all of the time and like everyone else, I have sex when the opportunity presents itself. Duh. And just like it was back in the day for me, there are people today who are just… weird about being bisexual and thanks to the ever-present social stigma that we still have not been able to get away from.

And I sit and observe and keep asking myself, “What the fuck is going on and why are we still making this harder than it has to be?” One of the things I often mention on the forum where a lot of bi guys are, well, losing their minds, is the need to simplify things. Stop making it harder to “be bisexual” like finding a guy to have sex with has never been easy to do but it’s like I said to my protege when he asked how I managed to have sex with all the men I’ve had sex with and I said, “Because I made it easy for them to get me into bed.” In one conversation, he threw out the disease card and, well, that hasn’t changed either because we had the same concerns back then and even more so when HIV/AIDS showed up to fuck shit up. I had to say to him that, yeah, sure, I’ve probably had more sex with men than most women have but I’ve never caught anything nasty. I’m easy… not stupid or careless.

I explained simplicity to him because he, and like so many others, overly complicates being bisexual and I like to remind him at times that if he’s having “problems” being bisexual, it’s because he doesn’t know how to keep it simple and because he’s of a mind that it’s not that simple and I do try to get through to him that the harder you make this on yourself, the harder it will be and blaming “everyone else” for any difficulties, well, hmm.

Many of us made it hard on ourselves back then and many still do it today. Even I had to learn to not make it hard on myself and in every aspect that I was becoming aware of. Many in my generation kept it simple. Men and women. Definitely for sex but love and relationships weren’t out of the question because it was possible even if, like me, bleh, loving a guy and being in a relationship with him? Never gonna happen. It was deemed to be “too gay” back then and it still is although I give credit where it’s due: That part is changing as more bi guys are more relationship-minded even as the FWB level of things.

We had FWB’s back in the day, too. One or more guys we were good friends with and good enough that having sex with each other… just made sense on top of it being convenient; why go through the hassles of getting a girl to give you a blowjob when you knew your boy would? Got that need to fuck? Okay – lemme make sure things are clean back there and come on and give it to me and with the only “condition” that I get to fuck, too. But that wasn’t always a necessity, but reciprocation is very much a part of the sex being mutually satisfying but I knew guys who didn’t like to reciprocate back then and there are guys who are totally against it today. I’d blow a friend just for the fun of it and if he didn’t return the favor, that was okay because I didn’t need him to but, yeah, if he did, I wasn’t going to tell him not to.

Nothing’s really changed. Back then, many believed that having sex with a guy was different from having sex with a girl. We had to hide what we were back then and we still do. Coming out was a thing then – and usually with bad results – and, yep, not different today and that includes coming out and not getting your head handed to you. Bisexuality was always a very individual thing and it still is today; back then, I had to learn how to own this and to make it my own and people have to this today but with one “glaring” difference:

I kept it simple and in the face of great complexity that was borne out of our refusal to accept that people don’t have to be heterosexual if it doesn’t suite their purposes, short or long term doesn’t matter. Understand that if I paid attention to all of the shit others had to say, I was going to have problems and I had enough problems already, but this was one I could take care of: I stopped listening to it. Simple, right? I am what I am and I’m loving the shit out of being bisexual and while I respect others and I’m not all that opposed to taking criticism and/or advice, this is the one thing that I’m never going to change my mind about, and I really don’t care what you might think about it.

I know the rules. Fuck the rules and not in a good way. Simply, I like men and women. Never men or women. Long ago, I discovered and adopted a side – both sides. Simple, right? Girls and pussy are good. So are guys and dicks. Relationships? Optional and, really, relationships are only going to be as good as the people in it are willing to make it and, well, y’all know how these things go just as well as I do. If there is a key to bisexuality, it’s simplicity. It’s making it easier on yourself and not allowing external shit to make it harder – and I’m not talking about doing the nasty; I’m talking about being comfortable with your thoughts and feelings and not letting anyone tell you that you can’t have them and, yeah, you’d better not do anything about them if you do.

Like everyone, I was told and forbidden to even think about this… and you know how that turned out. Back then, no one wanted to see the truth of bisexuality and that hasn’t changed but just like some did back then, we continue to make being bisexual harder than it already is and it’s hard because – and I’ll keep saying it – we continue to believe in some shit that isn’t the whole truth of things.

Or as I said to my protege when I agreed to mentor him, “Knock, knock, Neo – the Matrix has you. Welcome to the world of the real.” He had to choose between the red and blue pills… and just like those of my generation had to. You take the blue pill, and you stay in the reality that was created for you; you take the red pill and… hold onto something because shit is going to get seriously real and mind-blowingly so. What an ingenious analogy and eloquent in its simplicity. Showing him and so many others the door and letting them know that they have to choose to walk through it. If you don’t, fine. No pressure other than whatever pressure they might be putting on themselves and that’s usually because they think this is more complicated than it really is – but the basic premise isn’t and has remain unchanged.

You like boys and girls. For love, sex, and even a relationship if that’s where things are heading. The only real difference between me and a straight guy is that I’m not opposed to getting some dick… because it’s still sex and with the understanding that it could be more than that but if it isn’t, that’s okay. Usually. The perception of living two different lives was seen back in the day and it’s still being seen like this. That very weird sense that you’re the only one who is like this hasn’t changed either. Those of us who embraced bisexuality learned some… stuff about ourselves and that hasn’t changed today. Being able to fully express yourself was so eye-opening and that sense of being liberated even more so… and that hasn’t changed either.

There are those of you who not only knows what I’m talking about, you understand it. There have always been those folks who will say, “Well, I wouldn’t do that…” and followed by a whole lot of reasons why they wouldn’t and none of those reasons are based in actual experiences but the reasons why they wouldn’t today… are the same reasons someone wouldn’t do it back in the day for me. Huh. How ’bout that?

Explaining this to someone was a pain in the ass back then. Still is today. On the surface, bisexuality seems to defy simplicity but it’s like I’ve been saying: Bisexuality takes everything you think you know and believe and… shreds the shit out of it. It was a scary thing for those of us of my generation and… it’s still a scary thing and not just because of the social angst but because bisexuality is… an unknown thing even though it’s been a part of our existence as a species. We know straight and we know gay, and it was “inconceivable” that someone would want to be both back then… and in the here and now.

And yes, I am 100% greedy. No such thing as too much intimacy or, yeah, too much sex. No real need to qualify or quantify things because I learned to keep it simple. Boys. Girls. Both are good in the pursuit of love, sex, and relationships. What else do you need to know? It’s not really that hard to understand but I have found that in order to understand it – and I mean understand it in its pure and simple form, it would help if one could just… forget all that crap they were told about sex and sexuality and to simply see it for what it’s always been.

Simple, right? One final thing. Would you like to know why gender was never a part of the definition until we put it there? Because we knew… gay people. Men who behaved and carried themselves like they were female and women who behaved and carried themselves like they were male. Horror stories about botched attempts to reassign their physical bodies to match what was going on inside their head. It was going on back in the day and it’s being done today. A guy would put the offer out there for him to be my girlfriend and in every way that meant. Sexually and emotionally. And… we got used to this even if such guys tended to either be laughed at or ridiculed for not being anywhere near manly. They simply rejected the male gender role and, well, how many of you know or knew a tomboy? You know that girl who was all about doing everything a guy could do – and that could include having sex with girls because, um, that’s what boys do and wasn’t trying to hear giving this up so they could be… girly and like they were told they had to be.

But some of them went both ways, too, even though they, too, had to be secretive about it less they be branded a traitor to the gay cause and just as gays were seen and branded traitors to the straight cause and way of things. And bisexuals? Who does that? And this perception persists today…

And nothing has really changed. The basic premise of bisexuality has not changed; the trials and tribulations have not changed other than to be more visible than ever before. Just it was back in the day, you were either all for going both ways, or you were very leery about it; you might say “never” and wind up changing your mind about it and depending on some stuff. It either worked for you or it didn’t. Simple, huh?

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: 02 December 22

In the younger days, my bisexual world consisted of the male and female friends I had in four square city blocks. Anything outside of those four square blocks was a mystery although to get to certain places, you had to go outside of those blocks, sometimes by car or taxi or walking, like going to school which for me was, oh, maybe six blocks away. So there was a “world” outside of those four square blocks where the discovery of sex just exploded into our awareness but, for the most part, we didn’t know about it since other than maybe going to school, there wasn’t a lot of interaction with kids our age outside of those four square blocks.

In a way, there was “no need” to interact with kids outside of our area because there were enough of us to keep each other occupied and interested in this sex thing that we first heard about by parents warning us against it and then, getting to the business of doing it. Or trying to. So much fun! Then I ran into a guy who literally lived five blocks away and imagine my shock and surprise to find that he liked boys and girls and just like I did! I’d learn that I wasn’t the only one to make such a discovery outside of our area and, well, how ’bout that? Who knew?

Getting old enough to walk around the city proper without supervision revealed that there was a lot more sex going on than I and my friends could have ever imagined. My YMCA membership introduced me to a slew of guys from all over the city and from all walks of life and, yep, a lot of them were like me, too. Still, my “world” consisted of anything within our city limits or as far as I could walk and depending on being able to go to the homes or areas of guys and gals I was meeting from outside of our four square blocks and making new friends, meeting friends of friends and it was all amazing and wonderful and, of course, more so if these new people, like me, had a very bad case of sex on the brain.

And then I got sent to a summer camp in another state. Big time culture shock to be “sequestered” with boys my age and in rustic log cabins and very few of them were from the same state that I lived in… and many of them were into getting some dick and up to their eyeballs (like myself) or they wanted to or, um, they found out by observing what was going on around them. Then being able to travel to the state where my parents were born and, specifically, the city where my mother was born and raised and finding out about all the other cousins I had that weren’t the ones who lived where I did and not only were they just as horny as I was – or even more – they had friends who had friends who were all about the sex thing and we’re culture shocking each other because they didn’t think I knew about it anymore than I thought they did.

And learning some stuff from them about what it’s like to live on a farm or in an area of that city where your closest neighbor was a mile or more away and, hmm. Seriously. All along my ventures outside of the four square blocks that I called home, I was absorbing all of this new information and just in awe of the fact that if I had been thinking and feeling like I was the only one who (a) knew about sex and (b) went both ways with it, well, I wasn’t just mistaken but I was sadly mistaken. And while I learned there were different paths being taken toward both (a) and (b), the end result was the same:

Having sex. Even the attitudes about it were eye-openly different, from really guarded to, gasp, shockingly wide-open. And while my generation, on the whole and as far as I knew, lived in a time where the fear of the other was running rampant or, as I’d been told too many times, to stay with your own kind, well, “my kind” was taking on a whole new meaning that had nothing to do with the color of my skin because “my kind” loved to have sex and it didn’t matter whether it was with a boy or a girl.

And continuing to get culture shocked to find out that it was… everywhere. And I hadn’t even left the country – yet. And getting schooled at every turn. Stereotypes and other misconceptions getting totally and completely debunked and sex was the medium that allowed this level of enlightenment, like, no, it wasn’t true that Oriental girls had a pussy shaped like a mouth – horizontal – and was full of teeth and, yeah, the big dick thing, and, yes, Black guys do eat pussy, and all manner of bullshit that just wasn’t true but was, in those times, all about us not finding out stuff about other peoples and whether they were a block away, a state away, or somewhere else in the country and, yeah, the world, as it was eventually discovered and experienced.

And definitely with the purpose of not having sex with someone you weren’t supposed to. I would learn about the universal languages like music, mathematics, love and, you betcha, sex. Found that, for example, I didn’t have to speak Japanese or understand a single word of it to have sex with a native Japanese guy or gay for that matter and, really – who knew? I hadn’t but I was learning but coming back home would reveal how… isolated we had been being confined to those four square blocks which, in a way, did make sense as far as safety was concerned – and as I found out when I got hit by a car going outside of my four square blocks to, you guessed it, to have sex with a guy I met and we befriended each other and found out that we went both ways, too.

I would realize how fortunate I was to be able to leave both the neighborhood, the city, and the state because there were a lot of people who had never been outside of the city limits, had never left the state or the country and, as such, many of them were… clueless about sex and sexuality and stuck with their hidebound beliefs and fears. Like, I’d come back from summer camp and regale my friends with my adventures and especially the sexual ones and… most of them didn’t believe me but I would understand that they didn’t believe me because they had never been anywhere outside of the city (at best) and as far as white folks were concerned, well, they all hated us, wanted to kill us, all that shit and it was impossible that they’d want to have sex with us but I knew differently and more so when some of the friends we had in our four square blocks were white – but we didn’t think of them of being white and that was because we knew them socially and intimately but anyone outside of our microenvironment?

Yeah, I had to be lying, right? But I wasn’t and even though the racial tensions at the time were, from my perspective, really and seriously bad, I learned that no matter where you lived in our fair city, sex was the one language we all spoke and wanted to speak and we tore down the barriers that our respective elders had thrown up around us so that we could get each other naked and become even more versed in this universal language.

Supposedly, gay people were the worst people ever. Um, yeah, no they weren’t. They had a different way at looking at things but gay guys had sex like I knew how to have sex and while some had… issues due to them being social persecuted, those I would meet – with or without sex – were really decent guys and gals and instead of allowing our sexual differences to divide us, together we learned to appreciate our differences and the similarities we learned that existed because in this, we all spoke the same language – we just spoke it differently with different people and birds of a feather did flock together and I – and so many others – was learning that sex was the thing that made us birds of a feather.

I maintain that eighty percent of what I learned about sex and sexuality was learned before I was 16 and I was one very serious student and being able to get outside of those four-square blocks – and then, moving to another part of the city – was ripe with opportunities to learn even more than I was already learning. Finding out that I knew some truths about sex that others either didn’t know or didn’t believe and, sometimes, being confused and thinking, “How come they don’t know?” and finding out that (1) just because I knew it didn’t mean everyone did and (2) the whole sex thing – and the truths – were being kept from them and couched in prejudice and hatred and all manners of social… ignorance and, yes, that’s the best word to describe what I was learning about what others didn’t know and why they didn’t.

I knew what it was like to shock the shit out of a white guy when he found out that I’m Black… and I’m definitely not homophobic or shocking the daylights out of a white or other ethnic girl by eating their pussy and like my life depended on it and being totally and completely pissed off with my elders because I now knew that they lied to me about this, either directly or by omission; I wouldn’t really forgive them until I would learn that growing up in their generation, even thinking about sex was prohibited and if you told children about it, it was to tell them anything but the truth and to scare them so badly that they wouldn’t think about having sex and definitely wouldn’t do it with anyone. For the most part, this “generational misinformation campaign” worked the way it was designed to work and… yeah, then you had kids like myself who found out that this sex thing is the cat’s pajamas and even more so if you were a boy and had sex with a boy as well as with girls.

Not just inside of our four square blocks. Everywhere. And everywhere I went and with everyone I met, I continued to learn about sex and sexuality and, yep, nerdy enough to hit the library and sneaking around to read stuff that if the librarian knew I was reading, I’d be in big trouble and might get my library card revoked. I read every sex-related thing I could find in both the Encyclopedia Britannica and World Book Encyclopedia and every medical reference I could get my hands on so that I could understand… bisexuality. In myself and all the others who were bisexual like me and either “for a little while” or, yeah, there was no giving this up because it was way too much fun to just have sex with boys or to just have it with girls.

If you can have both, why not have both? Oh, yeah, that’s right – it’s being greedy and greed is one of the seven deadly sins right alongside of lust and I was learning how… prudish we were about sex and why we were and once I learned this, it also lent itself toward forgiving my parents for bullshitting me about all of this because… they were supposed to and they had been bullshitted as well and all because of the religious stuff we were made to believe. Learning that homosexuals weren’t “just now” being hated – they were always being hated but also learning of a time when they weren’t or that in some cultures, homosexuality was a part of the lessons learned that prepared both males and females for being adults in that culture – but lessons to be set aside as an adult and they were never to be revisited for any reason but if I hadn’t learned anything, I learned that rules are made to be broken and if homosexuals were breaking them, so were bisexuals since we were like them but not really.

Hmm. And just when I thought I had it all figured out, I’d find out that I didn’t. The sex was the same but how someone got there was very damned different and sometimes not all that different and, okay, this is some deep shit and it really is deeper than I could imagine… and I have one hell of an imagination. To find the truth, you have to look for it and more so when all around the world, great pains were being taken to make it hard to find the truth and some of the truths I would find were shocking in some way but it was still the truth. I knew the truth about sexuality in that people aren’t just heterosexual. I would realize that I became… obsessive about sex and sexuality but not in a bad way but the more I learned, the more I wanted to know, and this was really a long-term Q&A session with myself and others I would interact with socially, sexually, or both. And at every turn and in everything I was learning, more of the truth of things was being revealed.

Years later and hearing that famous movie line that said, “You can’t handle the truth!” and, indeed, I found there were a whole lot of people who couldn’t handle the truth because they (a) weren’t told the truth. (b) were lied to as a matter of course and (c) didn’t believe the truth because they weren’t supposed to. And, yeah, the truth does set you free albeit in very different ways and depending on the truth that got uncovered. And seeing that we spend so much time fussing, fighting, and arguing over sexuality and totally ignoring the sure and certain fact that regardless of sexuality, we all speak the language of sex to some degree or another and those who didn’t, well, okay because I knew that there were a lot of people who got totally mindfucked about sex and definitely not in a good way but that just went right along with how we were being mindfucked all along and, again, religion was at the heart of the mindfucking.

And seeing the effects that have persisted right into the 21st century. The social bickering continues unabated and, “as usual,” there’s more emphasis on this than there is the fact that we all speak the same language: Sex. And in some rather amazing diversity, too. I know why it’s okay for females to suck dick but it’s not okay for males to do it – we were made to believe this and accept it as fact and we were also made to believe and accept as fact that anyone who didn’t do things the way they were told do to them were… perverted. Evil. Absolutely, positively, and definitely going to burn in the hottest parts of hell. And, hilariously, finding out that there are straight folks who make me look like I’m a choir boy when it comes to having sex… and they said I was a pervert because I loved and enjoyed sex with guys?

Please. And learning that one of the very worst thing about us was having the truth staring us in the face… and not believing it.

At this point, there was a power spike that put me in the dark for a moment and I’m pissed because everything I wrote after the last sentence above got lost. Shit. But I’m going to continue.

One of the mysteries I worked at solving involved sucking dicks with a guy and it was his first time and how he went from trying to figure out how to suck my dick to figuring it out quickly; when I told him that I was going to cum (and as I promised I would), he said, “Mmmhmm” around my dick, didn’t stop – and like he said he had to because of that acquired taste thing – and I came; he not only swallowed my cum but kept it down. He came moments later, and it was oh, so, satisfying but when I rotated around so that I could be face to face with him, the first thing he said was, “Man, that was unbelievably good… but how did I know how to suck your dick and why did it feel totally normal?”

At this point, no one had ever asked such a question before so I didn’t know the answer. I said something along the lines of it not really being that hard to figure out and that it feels normal because it really is normal for guys to have sex this way but I got a lesson in taking stuff for granted or, I knew how to suck dick so it never occurred to me that someone would wonder and ask me why and how they knew how to do something that they’d never done and, by the way, had never been done to them before. Got an interesting lesson in human nature and biology and genetics and, culture shocked and accepting that I don’t know what I don’t know but still being driven to learn it.

The “good part” is that the guy accepted my half-assed answer, and we went on to suck each other off two more times but I’d gone away from the encounter with his questions stuck in my head and, again, determined to find the answer because it was clear that if he asked it, someone else would. Yeah, just when I thought I had it all figured out, I found that I didn’t – but that was okay because it was yet another opportunity for me to learn something and learning more about male bisexuality and even having my current theory that bisexuality isn’t just a “social construct” but a biological one – and a truth that religious beliefs have gone to great lengths trying to keep us from finding out about. Gay folks had it partially right: We are all born this way and right up to the moment the social conditioning gets applied and sometimes it sticks and sometimes it doesn’t, or it sticks, comes loose, gets stuck again and, yeah, pops up when it’s not even expected to and, my goodness, ain’t this some interesting shit?

That conditioning was designed to make everyone heterosexual… and a whole lot of us have broken that conditioning and the break is permanent for a lot of us and not so much for others but it introduces those who are “willing to learn” the language and dialects of sex and to the point where the social constructs we’ve applied to sexuality… kinda/sorta doesn’t make a whole lot of sex because regardless of sexuality, we all pursue the same things in life: Love, sex, and relationships of some kind and in no particular order and in that exact order.

Because it’s always been in our nature. Always. This is the truth that religion would prefer you not know about or believe to be, well, the truth. Social norms would prefer you believe that sex isn’t all that important even though sex is and always has been a very human thing to engage in and just because having sex feels good. It’s at the center of our social behavior and while we all have sex differently and according to our wants and needs, we’re still speaking the same language and, in these things, one of the most important lessons I learned that the only limits that truly exist are the ones we put on ourselves and bisexuality removes a lot of those limits that have been placed on us and, yeah, people are just only straight or gay:

People are also bisexual, and we can fluently speak the language of both straight and gay because we are fluent in the language of sex. Within those four square city blocks, I learned to speak the languages of both sides and what I didn’t know, I learned from those who shared those four square city blocks with me… and from those outside of those blocks, city, state, and country. I learned, again, that I didn’t have to speak Japanese and that man didn’t have to speak English… but we both could speak the language of sex even if this aspect of the language is forbidden. I didn’t have to be able to speak Spanish… but I could speak sex and was very damned willing to learn how to speak it better and fluently and learning more about myself all along the way.

And despite it being said today that bisexuality isn’t real, and neither are bisexuals, I know this is some really smelly bullshit and a reflection of the fears that have been instilled in us because bisexuality is real, bisexuals are real and… we are everywhere. None of the things that tend to divide us like race, creed, education, financial standing and all that other social shit that we’re so overly concerned with does not prevent someone from being bisexual, you know, if they want to and even if only in the form of the universal language of sex because humans are at the top of the list of the most sexual critters on the planet because we do it just for the thrill of it and, oh, yeah, we can make babies, too.

And understanding, again and again, that it’s wrong for me to have sex with another man because neither of us can get pregnant and, yeah, when I eventually learned this, I was floored because, shit, the answer to this couldn’t be that easy… could it? And learning this because, as a young and overly curious lad, I had the audacity to ask why the bible says what it does and, uh, yeah, you probably know that doing that didn’t go well for me but because it didn’t, I learned something else:

Our fear of the truth about ourselves as a social animal and one of many in the animal kingdom. Our belief that we are well above the “lesser” animals and, yeah, not all that much as it turns out. That we consider ourselves civilized and, supposedly, above a lot of stuff but mention sex and sexuality and watch a lot of people lose their shit and believe me, I have had a lot of interesting fun mentioning it and watching them losing it… because I was learning stuff. I’m still learning.

I don’t know what I don’t know, and I know what I don’t know… but I do know what I do know because I have spent damned near six decades learning it because I don’t have much in the way of problems speaking the language of sex. I’ve lost most of my ability to speak both French and Japanese… but I can have sex with those peoples and both males and females because we all know this language because we all eventually learn to speak it in some way.

And all because I learned that this sex thing those of us in those four, short, square city blocks wasn’t something we were the only ones who knew about sex and that it was fun even when it wasn’t just between a boy and girl. Eyes wide open. Mind blown too many times to count due to culture shock and learning that we are more alike than we are unalike because we can and do speak the universal language of sex and if one doesn’t, well, hmm – something’s wrong, huh?

It’s just that as bisexuals, eh, we don’t much run and hide from the truth, but we also cannot escape the truth that there is a world full of people who, ah, aren’t so much in agreement with how we see love, sex, and relationships and now it boils down to one single matter:

Which truth are you more willing to believe? Great and heaving sighing at this point. This is the part I tend to ask that if you don’t believe the truth, do you know why you don’t? I’ve asked if you’d be surprised to know that whatever you don’t believe is about sex and sexuality might not be your own original thoughts, but they are thoughts that you were… supplied with? I have had people say that they wouldn’t like sex like that, and I’ve asked them how they know that they wouldn’t and, yeah, they’ve gotten all salty and surly over being asked this and how they answer… has taught me something and, usually, they do, in fact, know the truth… but they can’t accept it because they’re not supposed to.

Interesting, huh? You don’t have to believe but, yeah, if you don’t, ask yourself why you don’t. Chances are that you will figure it out and… still not believe it. Weird, huh, but this, too, is part of what it means to be human and how we can let certain fears run our lives and, well, bisexuals learned not to have those fears and, really, being fearless isn’t a sexuality thing but also a human thing in that some of us don’t believe what we’ve been told about the sex thing.

I’m going to go jerk off and not only commit a sin that isn’t really a sin, but I just might go blind, and I’ll have to check to see if there’s any hair growing on my palms. Why? Because it feels good, and I got disabused of the bullshit I was told about it… or any of the other bullshit about sex and sexuality.

See ya tomorrow…

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: 30 November 22

It’s “startling” to realize that the end of 2022 is only a few weeks away; it feels like it was “just the other day” when I started scribbling at the beginning of the year!

I was skimming through the forum topics and saw some comments about the taste of cum and how to make it taste better and I flashed back to the first time I got a mouthful of nasty-tasting spunk and, ew, it was horrible! In those early days, I was used to cum tasting sweet, salty, a mixture of sweet and salty, and too salty but I remember that “slap in the face” where a friend’s cum was severely bitter and just plain old nasty… because, I would learn, one of his favorite things to eat was… a raw onion. Actually watched him peel one and take a big bite out of it and like it was an apple and he even had the nerve to ask me if I wanted a bite!

And, later, when I sucked him off, yep – just nasty beyond belief. I had to spit it out and I don’t quite remember if he said anything to me about spitting it out but as he was returning the favor, I was wishing that I had a piece of candy or something that would get that nasty taste out of my mouth. It was my first lesson that said, “Cum will taste like whatever a guy’s been putting into his body!”

Which led me to reading everything I could get my hands on to find out why his stuff tasted so bad, which led to discovering that the stuff is made up of two parts: Semen and the actual sperm and that semen is the “car” that sperm rides in on its way to a woman’s egg or, um, down into my stomach. Learning what semen was composed of had me second guessing myself about swallowing it but it’s… mostly water and, indeed, I would learn that even how water tasted could make a difference in how a guy’s cum would taste and that the water tasted different depending on what part of the city you were in.

I do remember the first time I got a nasty tasting load in my mouth and I just let it flow out of my mouth and the guy I’d sucked off got quite mad at me and berated me for not swallowing it “like I was supposed to” and me telling him, “If your shit didn’t taste so fucking nasty, I would have swallowed it!” My words… seriously hurt his feelings and I was taken aback for a moment to see tears starting to stream down his face but, yeah, that made me feel bad… for a moment but I had meant what I said.

I found that I don’t much like guys whose cum is thin and watery; it tended to have a bitter taste to it and I would learn that semen is alkaline and that’s what was making it taste bitter; that led to learning that the environment in a girl’s pussy was acidic, which explained why a girl’s pussy tended to taste tangy and learning that sperm can’t survive in an acidic environment but alkalines reduce acidity and the alkaline nature of semen not only allows sperm to travel to the egg but gives sperm a fighting chance to get there before the acidity breaks through and… kills them. Also explained why I heard that it only takes one sperm to fertilize a woman’s egg but there are exceptions and depending on body chemistry and, yeah, science!

I would read some stuff, years down the road, about sucking dick and swallowing cum and especially the part that said that it’s proper etiquette to spit it out and for whatever reason you want or need to. Well, that was nice to know, not that I felt bad about spitting a guy’s cum out but those early encounters of having a mouthful of nasty tasting cum made me very aware that if this guy’s cum could taste bad for some reason, mine might taste bad, too. Only one way to find out.

I remember tasting my cum for the first time and I didn’t do it on purpose. I was in the bathroom and spanking the monkey like it was the end of the world and, ahh, lots of warm cum flowing out of me and it felt amazing as usual but once I was done and went to get some toilet paper to clean up… the roll was empty! In retrospect, I did realize that I could have just gone to the sink and washed my hands but that’s not what I did. I looked at it on my hand and… licked my hand clean. It was kind of revolting at first (and I would, years later, learn some shit about why it was) but once I started licking and sucking it off my hand, hmm, my stuff didn’t taste bad at all. I still had to wash my hands, of course, but at least I now knew what my stuff tasted like.

But there were those who’d suck me off and spit it out and that’s oddly kind of “hurtful” but I would find that it wasn’t the taste that bothered them but how it felt in their mouth. We talk about it being an acquired taste and it is… but taste isn’t the only thing involved in this: It’s mouth feel and in the form of consistency. Thick and cloying or thin and watery and, to me, it stood to reason that if it didn’t feel good in your mouth, you weren’t going to swallow it. There were guys I’d suck off and their cum felt like… warm pudding in my mouth which didn’t bother me a whole lot because I liked pudding but, yeah, sometimes, it could be so thick and, again, cloying that, eh, I have like a second or two to decide to “choke” it down or just let it dribble out of my mouth. I actually have never spit it out because it sends a bad message to the guy, and I know that because I’ve gotten that message before to see someone literally spit it out.

I would learn about one of the most important factors that plays into swallowing cum: My tongue. I would learn that the tongue has taste buds and there are different zones for salty, sweet, tangy, and bitter and that most of our taste buds live in the front part of the tongue and “logic” suggested that if this was true – and it obviously was – then the trick of avoiding the taste was to not let it on the front parts of my tongue. One of the other things I learned that played into this was… my nose and how it played into being able to taste something and it was “light bulb” time for me to be able to connect all those times I had a cold and a stuffy nose, and I couldn’t taste anything and then think about the times when I sucked dick or ate pussy and… I couldn’t taste it because my nose was stuffy.

I would understand that having a stuffy nose and doing my best to not let his cum on the front of my tongue went a long way to mitigating the bad taste when I’d encounter it but it didn’t do much for the consistency of his cum and the volume of it and some guys could shoot a whole lot of cum and I would learn that the guys who could shoot that holy shit amount of cum – and consistently – might be suffering from something called hyperspermia, a rather harmless condition where a guy… just amazingly cums a whole lot. There was still the whole swallowing it thing to contend with and winding up with “chipmunk cheeks” because when there was a whole lot of it and I was going to swallow it, well, having to hold it in my mouth and working on swallowing it had to be done and I even found the humor in it, which was better than being embarrassed over not being able to take all of his cum straight down and if/when I got razzed about having chipmunk cheeks, I just took the razzing.

In some situations, I could learn how a guy’s cum was going to taste by tasting his “pre-cum” which is just seminal fluid – and the same fluid that when he cums, will be full of millions of sperms. If his pre-cum tasted bad, off, funny, whatever, I’d still suck him off because I also learned that getting sucked off “feels better” when you can cum in someone’s mouth and compared to cumming and not being in their mouth so homey could cum in my mouth and… it’s dribble time. Yeah, sometimes, they’d be miffed that I dribbled it all over them but I didn’t have a problem letting them know that their cum didn’t taste or feel good in my mouth – and it’s okay to not swallow it.

I would run into situations where I’d swallow a guy’s cum and, to be polite, find myself sitting on the toilet either immediately or shortly after the fact. Okay – what the fuck was up with this? Did that mean that his cum was “bad?” I would learn that what was really “bad” about it was being too alkaline and to the point where it would upset the water balance in my stomach – which is full of hydrochloric acid – when that balance gets upset, yup, that happens. Yep, not a good feeling at all and I feel fortunate that I haven’t had this… experience all that often. The young lover I had was a joy to suck off and his cum tasted okay – or okay as my stuffy nose was able to report but every time I sucked him off, I was on the throne minutes later and while that was quite unpleasant, it was… worth it.

The whole issue of taste and swallowing is a major thing for those who suck dick and want to swallow “the fruits of their labor.” I would learn that things like diet and body chemistry played a role in how cum tasted and, again, anything you put into your body can affect the way your cum – and, yes, a woman’s pussy – is going to taste and even smell. One can do things with their diet, might not really be able to do a whole lot about their overall body chemistry and the rule is that if it tastes bad – and that includes the mouth feel – it’s okay to not swallow it and if the other person gets mad, well, they just get mad. One of the tricks I learned to blunt the taste of cum (and pussy) is to mix it with… saliva to “water it down” so I could get it down and, hopefully, without having to spend time on the toilet. The more saliva you can bring to the moment, the more you can water it down and it can make swallowing it… easier.

Sitting here and thinking about the sloppy blowjob and the giver having long, goopy strings of saliva all over the place and understanding that it’s not all because it can be a lubricant but because it not only waters down any “nasty” pre-cum tastes but it contains enzymes that just kills the shit out of a lot of things as those enzymes start the process of breaking down whatever you put in your mouth. Yeah – science!

Being a nerd went a long way in my understanding the whole taste thing because, well, I’m a nerd and I’m also a voracious cocksucker and eater of pussies and while it would be wonderful if everyone’s, um, fluids, tasted like ambrosia, the reality is, nope, it’s not going to taste good and it’s not going to smell good and learning more science about how these particular fluids can react badly when exposed to air. Hmm. Guys talk about eating fruit and other sweet things so that their cum will taste better and I’ve seen guys, say, sucking on a piece of candy before I blow them and… their cum didn’t taste all that sweet but learning that it takes time for your body to process… stuff and the “sweet effect” isn’t instantaneous and as I learned when I sucked a guy off twice and the first time, his cum was salty but because he had eaten something sweet before we got started, the second time he came in my mouth, it tasted less salty and a bit more on the sweet side.

And we all don’t process stuff at the same rate or time. Bitter tasting stuff gets processed faster than sweeter things do, like salt, for instance. The science involved fascinated the shit out of me as I was learning it and it made a difference in how I enjoyed sucking dick and eating pussy and, well, knowing why it works the way it does was just important to me… because I am a nerd, after all. I love to suck dick and swallow cum and if it “tastes” or feels bad in my mouth, I know why it does. If I’m eating pussy and literally tasting whatever, she’s been eating and drinking, I know why she tastes and smells the way she does and, yeah, it’s not totally about what she’s been consuming but her overall body chemistry.

Learning that if she smells like fish, that doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with her pussy – it’s just that her secretions were actually odorless before coming into contact with the air. Hmm. It used to bug the shit out of me to be giving head and my nose would get seriously stuffy but given what I had learned, yeah, I’d be very thankful about having a stuffy nose because not only could I not smell… stuff, but I also couldn’t taste it all that much, either.

I know why it’s an acquired taste and that it’s not just about taste. You don’t like it when you cum in someone’s mouth and they’re in a hurry to spit it out – and I really don’t know why but I have some thoughts about that – but, at least for me, if someone spits my stuff out, I have an idea why they did and, again, it’s not always about the taste but how it feels in their mouth and both things take some doing to get used to… and not everyone who gives head gets used to it, easily or if at all.

Sometimes when I’m sucking dick, I won’t let the guy cum in my mouth because, um, I want to see him cum or, rarely, I’ve actually gotten tired of sucking him and it’s time to jerk him off. When it came to eating pussy, well, a different kind of thing and to tell a girl/woman that her pussy tasted and smelled bad, well, yeah, that might not go over well with her even though telling her is also a good thing since it could be a sign that her chemistry is off for some reason. I’ve asked some women, “Wow – what have you been eating lately?” which is… better than coming right out and telling her that I didn’t like the way she tasted and it protects her feelings but given how a lot of women love to be eaten, you just… suck it up and eat that pussy and… more science happening.

Your brain can, at some point, edit stuff out and including taste. It’s like, wow, homey’s pre-cum is really salty and once it registers in your brain – and you notice that after a few, he doesn’t taste all that salty, it’s because your brain told your tongue to ignore it and the same with smell. It’s like your brain say, “I know what this is and I don’t need to keep paying attention to it…” and ain’t science interesting? I’ve gone down on guys and they’ve smelled… funky but not in that dirty way. I’ve gotten that first whiff of him and my nose says, “Ew, he’s really musky…” and after a few, I can’t smell him anymore and not because my nose got stuffy but because my brain edited it out. Maybe he tasted really salty or bitter at first but, again and at some point, my brain edits it out; I might still be able to taste him but, yeah, not so much but when he cums, that’s a different moment and I have noticed that my mouth produces more saliva when a guy’s cum is “really salty” or bitter than it does when his cum tastes sweeter.

All of this might sound like it takes the fun out of sucking dick and eating pussy and I can assure you that it really doesn’t – I’m just the guy who sucks dick, swallows cum, and eats pussy like a fiend who knows some stuff about this stuff. I used to get razzed unmercifully about being a nerd but when it comes to this, I’m glad that I’m a nerd and that being one got me to investigate the whole acquired taste thing and all because, one day, I sucked a guy off and his cum was horrible and that was because his favorite snack was a nice, big, juicy, raw onion. Sucking off a guy whose spunk tasted like he ate a whole block of salt, or he eats a lot of sweet stuff and, yeah, those who eat a lot of veggies have a different taste, too, and some of those tastes aren’t… all that nice. Back to sucking off a guy who’s cum was so alkaline that it upset the water balance in my stomach and… Montezuma’s Revenge, to once again be polite about it.

And understanding if I know why, I can “file it away” and focus on the business of using my mouth and tongue to give someone – and myself – a lot of pleasure and if I have to let a guy’s cum dribble out of my mouth, well, it’s what I have to do and it’s not really a bad reflection on him but, yeah, he might want to pay more attention to the stuff he’s putting into his body. Like, I learned to not like swallowing the cum of guys who smoked a lot of weed because it would leave a really bitter taste in my mouth and, yeah, people who smoke don’t taste all that sporty and depending on how much they smoke and all that but, again, that doesn’t bother me all that much because at some point, my brain is going to edit it out shortly after tasting and feeling his cum in my mouth. I don’t know about anyone else but I just… learned to not pay a whole lot of attention to it unless the cum really tastes horrifically bad and knocking on wood that I haven’t had too many encounters with that really sour and bitter cum and when I have, it’s dribble time.

Because at the end of any day, I don’t have to swallow it if I don’t want to. Understanding when you’re negotiating to give or get a blowjob, swallowing is an important thing to know and not swallowing can be a deal-breaker. I learned early on to appreciate anyone who swallowed my cum or even allowed it in their mouth so they could spit or dribble it out… because they didn’t have to and if they didn’t swallow it, I knew why they didn’t because I know why I sometimes won’t swallow it or allow it in my mouth… because I know why it’s an acquired taste and I just accept that not everyone acquires it or even wants to.

It’s a lot of fun to suck a guy off; it is… one hell of an ego trip to get him to cum in your mouth but, yeah, if you don’t like the way it tastes and feels in your mouth, you don’t like it and you don’t have to swallow it and if he gets miffed because you didn’t, well, you can tell him why or just tell him that you exercised your right not to swallow it and if he doesn’t like it, it’s a sure bet that you won’t be sucking his giving him a blowjob again, the ungrateful son-of-a-bitch.

If you didn’t know, now you know. I often laugh at guys when they’re talking about the taste of cum and/or they don’t swallow because of this, that, or the other that’s supposedly bad or, sheesh, potentially fatal because a lot of those guys eat pussy and I tell them that if they knew the chemistry involved, um, they wouldn’t eat pussy. I know about it and… I still eat pussy because it’s so fucking satisfying and she might like it, too.

Having stuff that doesn’t taste all that good to those who’d give you head can be embarrassing and can make one very self-conscious but if your stuff tastes consistently bad, it might be time to check it out and change your diet if possible. There are a slew of medications that can make cum – and pussy – taste bad to holy shit bad and chances are that they have to take whatever medication is causing the bad taste and you could stop giving them head because of this or… you just “ignore” it and give them this very intimate pleasure anyway. All about – wait for it – individual tastes.

My former boyfriend liked to drink a certain kind of tea that made his cum taste very weird to me. I mentioned it to him and he kinda got upset for a moment but I tried to explain to him that his cum didn’t taste bad or horrible but just…weird when he drank that blend of tea. He stopped drinking it and his cum stopped tasting weird to me. He went back to drinking it and I was okay with it because I felt that I didn’t have the right to tell him not to.

My first wife had to go sugar-free because of diabetes and her pussy (and girl cum) tasted like… artificial sweeteners. Ugh. It wasn’t her fault that I can’t stand the taste of sweeteners that aren’t cane sugar and I… sucked it up because I loved eating her pussy and she loved being eaten and, sometimes, you just gotta “take one for the team.”

My young lover’s cum was a bit more on the salty side and a bit more alkaline than my stomach was willing to put up with. I did tell him one day to lay off the salt but I knew that there was little or nothing I could do about the alkalinity of his cum and not sucking him off and swallowing, well, that wasn’t gonna happen and… that’s what they make Imodium for and I kept some on hand so that sucking him off wouldn’t “be a problem” after swallowing all that cum he’d give up.

Great sighing. It has always been assumed, presumed, what-the-fuck-ever, that if you suck dick and you don’t swallow, eh, you’re not really all that good at sucking dick and, no, I’m not even trying to insult anyone who doesn’t swallow – I’m just telling you some shit that could get my cocksucking card revoked. I understand that when we cum, we… prefer to cum “in” something – mouth, pussy, and/or ass – because, well, um, that’s what we’re supposed to do and like I said earlier, even I noticed the difference in how it felt to me when I’d cum in someone’s mouth and when I wasn’t allowed to and they jerked me off. Still felt good, didn’t feel quite the same. Among men, sucking dick and swallowing cum is implied to be “mandatory” and even I don’t quite know why it is but what I know is that the guy you want sucking your dick is the one who will swallow your cum and then not complain about it and, again, if you didn’t swallow, the blowjob was deemed to be not all that good and also deemed to be a slight against the one who didn’t swallow.

Then again, those guys who would say shit like this were also guys who never had cum in their mouth or, if they did, they found it not to be to their liking but, yeah, “everyone knew” that cocksuckers not only sucked cock but swallowed cum and it’s the reason why even I’ve had guys get pissed because they shot a load into my mouth and… I’m dribbling it out and, hopefully, faster than they’re shooting it in and they didn’t always seem to understand that if I “spit” it out, it’s because it didn’t taste or feel good in my mouth and I’d rather eat liver than to swallow their cum… and I fucking hate liver with a great and deep passion because it, too, is an acquired taste that I could never acquire and did not like being made to eat it. Yuck. I’d rather swallow cum than to eat liver.

Being online and looking for a dick to suck and talking to a guy who wants to get sucked off and is looking to suck a guy off and one of the first things to be asked after “what are you into” is… do you swallow? Guys who swallow are preferred over those who don’t and that’s just the way it’s always been and, again, I do not pretend to really understand why swallowing cum is so damned important even though I do swallow it and others have swallowed my cum. It’s just… satisfying to do it. But it remains true that if the cum doesn’t taste or feel good in your mouth, you don’t have to swallow it although the guy you just sucked off might have something to say about that.

I learned that it is better to be appreciative about, to, and for anyone who (a) sucked my dick and (b) swallowed my cum… because I know they didn’t have to do either thing. And, yeah, I do check to see if my cum still tastes good and, it still does (knock on wood) to me, anyway, and it’s easy to do since, a very long time ago now, I did acquire the taste.

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: 29 November 22

If the thought of sucking a guy’s dick – or a guy sucking yours – was scary, that fear didn’t compare to the thought of someone sticking their dick… in your ass.

Ew, right? Yet, I found it to be quite pleasurable even though, yeah, sometimes, it would hurt going in and no matter how much Vaseline we’d use and I racked my brain for a few moments trying to remember how we figured out that this venerable petroleum product would make sticking it in easier… and I’m drawing a blank so this revelation gets returned to the “I Don’t Remember” file. We also discovered that Royal Crown, a pomade we’d get slathered onto our hair every damned morning – and just before having Vaseline slathered all over our face – would also get the job done as did baby oil and lotions.

I’d get older and think about how eager a lot of us were to get screwed and wondered why it seemed to be so important and I would read a lot about the history of homosexual sex and how some cultures used this kind of sex to prepare soon-to-be-men for giving women the high hard one. I remember reading about this and laughing over the fact that there was a really good chance that we were happily – or sometimes unhappily – screwing each other so that (1) we’d know how to screw a girl and, possibly (2) knowing what it felt like so that we’d have an idea of what it felt like to a girl and… not sure how that information would be useful but I found this thought to be relevant because there is such a thing as doing it too hard and too long and that made getting screwed uncomfortable after x-amount of time and I don’t know about the other guys all that much but it would eventually get on my nerves and make me ask the same question I’d sometimes hear girls ask me:

“Are you done yet? Jeez!”

Not all of the guys tried this and not all of the guy who did found it to their liking and if they did it, it was “under protest” but also in “compliance” of the rule that said if you screwed a guy, he’d get to screw you, too. Quite a few guys – and myself included – found getting screwed to be delightful, “nasty” and, well, it felt good and when none of us were shooting the baby-making stuff. Grease it up, stick it in, and just fuck and keep going until you got tired and while experiencing that “good feeling” at times that I know made me feel… tingly. You’d feel this moment, either sigh or, as some guys did, giggle, and… right back to doing it and I spent a lot of time with a guy on top of me and enjoying the weird but good feeling of his dick sliding in and out of me until he got tired, pulled out, and said, “Okay – my turn!”

It felt even better to get creamed. Once you got past the scare of doing it for the first time, yeah, it wasn’t that bad to shoot the stuff, it felt good to do it and it felt… nicely weird to feel a guy’s dick twitching and all that and his stuff is going in you and he’s moaning and all that and… he’d take a deep breath and because his dick was still hard, keep right on going or if he got soft – a rarity at this point – then it was his turn to get slathered up with something – and that included a lot of saliva if the, ah, other products weren’t available – and spend some time getting screwed and creamed.

Some years later, I would read or hear something about anal sex that said, “If something big can come out of there, something big can go in there…” and, yeah, that was right on the money and I learned that the bigger the dick, the more it would hurt going in but, yeah, it would go in just the same. One of the sub-questions that followed The Question was, “Do you do it in the hiney?” which had the dual meaning of liking to be screwed as well but, for reference, this sub-question was the third question asked and after, “Do you suck it?” If the answers were yes, yes, and yes, the fourth question was, “Do you wanna do it to me?” which meant sucking and fucking and being sucked and fucked.

There were those who couldn’t handle having it stuck in them and, as such, they still wanted to be screwed so just sticking it between their cheeks – and with the dire warning to not even try to stick it in – served as a nice, if messy, alternative; there were the guys who would consent to having it stuck in… just don’t stick it in too far, okay? Yeah, those guys found that this one didn’t work the way they expected and especially when Vaseline was used; trying not to stick it in too far usually resulted in getting all of the guy’s dick in there and, oops, sorry about that.

Those of us who enjoyed being screwed and creamed knew the answer to the question some of us asked girls: “What does it feel like?” and I know I got to understand why they would say, “It feels good!” and nothing more than that because there are no words that can really explain how good it feels – as long as the guy screwing you was of a mind to make it feel good to you and… some just didn’t care about that. I know that I didn’t like those guys all that much and especially the ones who would go out of their way to make it hurt as much as they could and I just… bore up under it without complaint because I didn’t want to get tagged as being a chump and a cry baby and like some guys wound up getting hit with.

I can’t count the number of times I was under a guy and he’s fucking me in a way that had me lying there wishing and praying that he’d hurry up and cum… and I understood why some girls also felt this way and how much they hated being made to feel this way. Still, being screwed and creamed… felt good; just having the guy on top of me and humping me felt weirdly comfortable and so much that if, by chance, the guy couldn’t get it in me, that was kinda/sorta okay because I knew he was going to cum – unless he was frustrated over not being able to get it in me and his frustration got in the way of things which kinda made getting screwed one of those, “Why did I bother?” things and, as such, I was getting a lesson in why girls insisted that we cum in – or on – them and why they’d get mad if we didn’t cum.

Getting into the adult years, I found that getting fucked was so routine that it was sometimes… boring. Dealing with guys who wanted to fuck but didn’t want to be fucked (and usually because they were afraid of it, the chumps) and finding out that there were more guys who…weren’t all that nice about it and both physically and verbally abusive which would all too often bring a quick and violent end to things because I wasn’t having any of that and if I told him to stop and get out of me – and he didn’t – well, I knew how to make them stop and get out and, yeah, blood was spilled, feelings got hurt, and as such would make me wonder if being fucked was worth the hassles that were showing up.

And, one night, having the world-shattering moment when getting screwed… wasn’t fun at all. And I gave it up. Both ways. I had blamed the guy I’d had sex with that night (and he had the longest dick I’ve ever personally seen and had, by the way) but I… knew it wasn’t really his fault that the joy of being screwed had packed its bags and left like a thief in the night. After further review, I would recall that despite his measured 13″, he… fucked me nicely but I also recalled that when it was his turn to be fucked, he whined and cried about it like the hated “little bitch” – and that was before I even got in him! He whined and cried even more once I did and the whole time I was (a) fucking him and (b) sucking his cleaned dick because, well, it was long enough, and it was right there, and I did have a good time sucking him off while fucking him and… he’s whining and complaining the whole damned time.

I would, years later, realize that him… being a little whiny bitch about it did play into it not being fun but I would also see that in the twenty to twenty-five period of my life, fucking a guy/being fucked was, again, so routine that it just wasn’t fun, and I would understand that my night with the cry baby was really the straw that broke the camel’s back. So I swore off of it. Which was fine because I loved sucking dick more and always had so this wasn’t going to be a problem… or so I thought.

A few more years would go by and I was finding moments where I missed screwing a guy and getting screwed, but I was being stubborn about it and ignoring what my body was telling me and making what would be lame excuses to the many guys who wanted me balls-deep in them and… nope, I wasn’t going to do to a guy what I no longer liked being done to me. Being… hypocritical when I got my boyfriend and, well, we were in love and that meant that we should fuck each other and as I’m typing this, I’m thinking about the lies I told myself back then and how… abjectly stupid I was about this because my body knew what I wanted and needed more than my idiotic brain did. After my boyfriend and I had to break up, I… came to my senses and more so when the joy of fucking/being fucked had, indeed, returned with my boyfriend and now it was about taking care of the need when it needed to be taken care of.

As opposed to how it used to be and when taking – and giving – the dick was “mandatory” and, yeah, getting a hard lesson on how and why women… just got tired of being screwed and, more often than not, did it out of obligation and if they even bothered with it at all. As such, I… better understood that ancient notion where, again, guys were allowed to have sex with each other so that they would know and be prepared to have sex with women and just understanding the male drive to have sex and how it can be good and literally a pain in the ass.

I still had to rediscover the joy of being screwed; the delicious nastiness of lubing up and sliding balls-deep into someone’s backside and knowing what having my dick in them felt to them and all that good stuff. The young (but very legal) lover I had decided that he didn’t like screwing me and that was a shame because he fucked me really good and loaded me up with a huge load of cum. He also decided that he couldn’t bring himself to suck my dick but felt it unfair for me to suck him off and I get left hanging, so he wanted me to fuck him and… I was still leery about it. I tried to talk him out of it and… it didn’t work, and it wasn’t really like I had to get off with him but I understood why he made the decisions he did about this. I thought he was going to have “the usual problems” a lot of guys experience the first time they get screwed and… he didn’t.

He’d tell me how good it felt to have me inside him and how… comfortable it made him feel. I very much understood what he said about how much he liked it when I came inside him and agreed with him that, yeah, that’s the “best part” of being screwed, not to mention how it felt to have your prostate stimulated in this way and he was one of those rare-to-me guys who I’d fuck and they’d cum all over the place. With him, not only did I rediscover the joys of fucking and being fucked, I learned to pick and choose both the guys and the moments for this. It was a… final departure from the times when any guy who wanted my ass could get it and now a guy would have to be… the right guy and “right” has a lot of meanings that I’m not going to try to explain since I don’t have the vocabulary to explain it in a way that doesn’t make me sound moronic.

The guys on the forum who want to be screwed but haven’t experienced it yet… cracks me up at times. I understand their fears and concerns that didn’t have anything to do with the dreaded disease card being pulled out because the guys in my more youthful days had those same fears and concerns. Was it going to hurt? Is there a way to make it not hurt? What positions are the best? The best lubes, toys, prostate stimulators, so on and so forth. Living in a sexual world where the guys who want to be fucked are… submissive and dedicated bottoms. More of a mind to let their “inner girl” out to play than, say, my generation was about this since letting “her” out felt too much like being gay but overlooking the fact that you didn’t have to be gay to engage in anal sex. The guys who are weird about giving the dick – but they have no qualms about fucking a woman in the ass but understanding why they’re weird about it because they see fucking a guy there as being… different.

Thinking way back to the younger and crazier days when even I would ask a guy why he didn’t want to fuck me when he’d admit that he’d fucked girls in the ass and, as far as that went, a lot of girls “preferred” to be fucked in the ass in order to preserve the virginity of their pussy and to hide the fact that they were sexually active and they weren’t supposed to be – yet and if ever. For those guys, the logic was sound: If you’d fuck a girl in the ass, you could – and should – fuck me because… an ass is an ass. Or dealing with guys who, for some reason, were afraid to cum in me or were funny about having cum in them and, as I would learn from them, they couldn’t get used to how it felt, and some guys were actually afraid that they’d like it.

Mentoring a guy in the ways of bisexuality and, first, laughing at him at how weird he was about fucking a guy that clearly wanted to be and then him saying that he would never be fucked… and me both laughing and telling him that there will come a time where he’s going to want to be fucked and laughing even more because I know he didn’t believe me. Of course, he found out that I was right, and it took him quite a while for him to admit that he did like being fucked and creamed and I reminded him that I did tell him that he would have to find the pleasure in it…

And just like I had found it. Then lost it. And found it again but in a different way. Understanding that it… doesn’t feel right to give it up and just because you’re expected to but the “right” way to give a guy your ass is when you feel the need to be fucked – and then with the hope he’s not going to be an asshole about your asshole. While a lot of guys are of the “size matters” contingent, I understand that size really means nothing but being able to enjoy the… nasty sensations and feelings of a man’s dick in your ass has a lot more meaning and, yeah, just like a lot of women have learned, bigger isn’t always better. The understanding that it’s not the size of the dick that can be problematic: It’s the guy it’s attached to that can be a joy or he becomes one of those bad decisions or, fuck, why did I think that having him fucking me was going to be a good thing?

Understanding why some girls/women would just lie there and take the fucking instead of demanding an immediate withdrawal and my belief that a lot of men can’t understand this… because they don’t know what it’s like to be fucked and they don’t know because, to be blunt, they’re scared to death of it. Their fear is understandable if only you consider where the dick is going and, yeah, it does hurt going in and even the smallest dick is going to be felt violating this singular place that many consider to be wholly and forever off-limits. The “side effect” of this that just might be responsible for men becoming sick and dying from prostate cancer… because they’re not going to let a doctor stick their finger in their ass for the few seconds it’ll take a doctor to feel the prostate. Getting the finger doesn’t bother me since, um, I’m used to having bigger things in my ass and I can even admit that… having my prostate examined feels good.

Yeah, I remember my first DRE – digital rectal exam – and having an embarrassing moment when my doctor slid his finger in and in the process of locating my prostate, I not only had an orgasm, but I was sporting quite the boner… and one that he acted like he didn’t see. The first time I had a female doctor do the DRE… and she was weirder about it than I was, but I understood it because a lot of guys really don’t want anyone messing with them back there. She quickly gave me the finger and she said, “That wasn’t bad, was it?” and I got the sense that it not being bad was all about her and not having to deal wtih a guy… being a whiny bitch about it than me being uncomfortable with a woman sticking her finger in my ass… when I’ve had a lot of women do that and they weren’t interested in the health of my prostate.

My protege and I often get philosophical about being fucked and inseminated. Sometimes expressing the sentiment that there’s something somewhat spiritual and very primal about being screwed in the ass and those conversations tend to get pretty deep but always boils down to how it makes us feel to be fucked and how it feels when he cums in us. He talks a lot about that bitchy, girly feeling that I know all too well and, these days, it doesn’t bother him as much as it used to; I would tell him that there’s no way to avoid feeling bitchy and girly and the secret to not being bothered by it is… to embrace the feeling and use it to enhance the pleasure of being fucked and the important lesson for him that I not only felt this way but I learned to embrace it.

And if I could, he could. He gets… ticked off dealing with guy who refuse to fuck him, and we often talk about “the bottom mindset” and try to suss out why such men refuse to use their dicks and like they very much want him to do. It is what it is these days but I speak to the fact that when you have sex with a man, you learn some shit about yourself and things that you didn’t know and for them, it boils down to it’s better to receive the dick than the give the dick and the whole top/bottom thing can make being fucked… problematic more than anything else and, yeah, I remind him that when I was growing up, you gave and received the dick in your ass… because it was fair and shying away from it made you a chicken-shit pussy of a chump.

Sighing and as usual. A lot of people don’t and can’t understand why a man would want to be fucked in the ass or, really, why anyone would want to be. The answer is… because it feels good. Being fucked is very likely the one thing that can make someone feel very vulnerable and that’s a very disturbing feeling and one that guys who have never been fucked can’t understand and how this great sense of being vulnerable has a lot to do with how the person they’re fucking is reacting to being fucked. I can tell you how it feels but you can’t get the… fuller meaning of it and there’s only one way to find out – and a lot of guys (and gals) are not of a mind to want to know this level of vulnerability and are very afraid of it. But, just like the bitchy and girly feeling, instead of fearing it, it is to be embraced. I… like the feeling because I can feel very vulnerable when being screwed and it… means something that I cannot put into words.

I love the moment when a guy cums in me and it’s difficult to explain but I’ve seen this same moment in the women that I’ve cum in as well and, as best as I can describe it, being filled with a guy’s cum… completes some stuff deep, deep down inside of us. My protege and I were talking about this moment and he was trying to understand why the guys he was fucking behaved differently when he unloaded in them and when, by his own admission, was scared to death to cum in them. I had asked him, “Have you ever paid attention to how a woman reacts when you cum inside them?” He said that he didn’t recall ever noticing it – and most guys don’t because they’re too busy cumming but I had noticed it… and I could relate to it because I know what that feels like.

It’s either, “Ahh, yes…” or it’s “It’s about goddamned time!” I shared with him how seriously pissed off I get if a guy fucks me and he doesn’t cum in me. How I have actually punched a guy in the face for pulling it out and cumming on me and, yeah, how I have not grown out of this – absent the urge to punch him in the face, though – I have gotten better about that but it is a given that if you fuck me and you don’t cum inside of me, it’s going to suck to be you when I let you know how totally and completely pissed the fuck off I am because you didn’t fucking do what the fuck you were supposed to do.

The cum goes in me. Not on me. I can forgive accidents; there have been many times when a guy has cum while trying to get it in me. It used to piss me off but, yeah, I understood it – it happens and it’s embarrassing as all get out. Or those times when a guy over-strokes, his dick pops out of me and, yep, there’s cum on my backside and, well, damn. I am 100% not a fan of the dumb shit you can see in porn where a guy is pulling it out and ramming it back in over and over and, look, motherfucker: Put it in me and keep it the fuck in me and you’d better not pull it out so you can see yourself cum because you’re going to get severely reamed out and my dick won’t be involved in the reaming.

None of that putting me in a headlock or choking me or trying to restrain my movement and you will be putting your life at risk if you start slapping me around because I do not find it enjoyable. Guys see this in porn and think that this is how guys want and like to be fucked and… dudes need to stop doing this because it’s unnecessary and not as pleasurable as it appears to be on the screen. I sometimes laugh at myself because when it comes to being fucked, I can get… prissy about it and not all that unlike a lot of women can be about it. My ass is not a pussy, by the way, but I have strived to understand why a lot of men say that they have one and… yeah. Old school bisexual over here and one who is very literal minded about things.

This is way scarier than sucking a guy’s dick. Swallowing cum (or wearing it if one prefers) is easier than having a guy pumping it into your backside because the implication is clear and one that kicked me in the balls and had me thinking, “He’s trying to get me pregnant…” and the thought was disturbing and unsettling but my mind took over and said, “Well, yeah, he is – what do you think fucking is really about and you know it’s not just about the pleasure.” Yeah, I do. I know what it means and more so given how many women I have fucked in my life and knowing that it could result in them getting pregnant. The only “real difference” is that a guy can cum in me and all that has happened is that… he came in me. Feels absolutely wonderful or, yeah, “It’s about goddamned time! Jesus Christ – what the fuck took you so long?”

You get fucked by a guy and you learn some shit about men and why women can’t stand us when it comes to having sex. You learn that it’s not as bad as everyone says it is. You learn that it’s not as gay as everyone assumes it to be and it can be done cleanly and safely. Some learn to never say never about it. That what can really make it bad is the guy doing it and not letting someone else’s fears about it to become your fears.

I grew up with this. Just another thing about that sex thing none of us were supposed to find out about. The many things I learned by getting screwed and creamed and not just about myself.

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: 28 November 22

A whole lot of my sexuality is about… sex. Wonderful, hot, sweaty, toe-curling, did you get the number of that truck sex. I learned there was an emotional side to this but one I didn’t pay a whole lot of attention to. There was liking guys and then there was liking guys and word was that if you liked a guy, you might be a faggot, fairy, or queer – those things were very bad.

If you merely liked a guy, having sex with him stood a very good chance of happening and more so when no one in their right mind had sex with someone they didn’t like – except some revenge shit that I’d become aware of many years later but I’m not talking about that. You might not start out liking a guy from the start but the more you interacted with him, you eventually found things that you liked about him, didn’t like, or was just indifferent about. Getting around to talking about girls and, um, sex, was fairly inevitable and if the two of you merely liked each other, you could expect to be asked The Question:

“Have you ever done it with a boy?” This question was so commonplace that it wasn’t until I was well into my adult years that I asked how the guys who’d asked me this knew to ask the question in the first place. Yeah, I wasn’t going to give myself major headaches trying to figure this out; I was just content to know that if a guy asked me this question, he liked me and the feeling was usually mutual. I wouldn’t expect or anticipate being asked this but when it would be asked, I wasn’t all that surprised – most of the time; some of the guys I knew and liked did surprise me by asking it and I really can’t say why – and read this as I don’t really remember and even if I had a reason to be surprised.

Given that having sex with a boy was one of the greatest things since sliced bread, answering “yes” to the question was a given and usually without hesitation – but that sometimes depended on how the question was asked. There was the “I hope you say yes so we can do it” way of asking and the “Ew, that’s nasty!” way of asking and I just learned to be able to tell the difference and, yeah, sometimes, if it was the latter – and I liked the guy – that was disappointing but, sometimes, the tone of the question could change.

Worked for me and not just because of the prospect of sex but the comfort in knowing that I was liked. Now, there were a couple of guys who liked me and while they stopped short of actually saying that they loved me, the less uncomplicated version was having them tell me that they really liked me. It was nice to be liked, felt weirdly good to be really liked, and even weirder to find that I, too, really liked some guys, merely liked others, couldn’t stand more than my fair share of guys.

It just was what it was. All of that social awkwardness that comes with growing up but made a lot more interesting when I liked him, he liked me, The Question was asked and answered and… we’d do it because we liked each other enough to want to but I would see that it was also about trust and, yep, as in “I won’t tell if you won’t.” We liked and really liked girls and we were on a mission to, well, get into their panties but because there was a guy you liked and he liked you and you’d already done it to each other several times, eh, bleh, who needs them? Well, you grow up and find out that you do but, again, I’m not talking about that.

It was just comforting fun to do it with a guy and there was mutual liking, and it wasn’t about “making it good” or “doing it right” but it was all about doing it in the first place and as a way to express how much we liked each other, maybe liked each other, but that was fine. It felt good to be really liked even if no sex was involved and more so when you didn’t have to prove that this is how you felt – and the very major pain in the ass we had to suffer through with girls.

The emotional aspects, I would find, were always there but, again, I didn’t pay a lot of attention to them beyond liking and liking someone but, you betcha, it sucked to find that they didn’t feel the same way about you. Bummer. A guy could, again, change his mind and it didn’t take a whole lot for me to figure out why he’d have a “change of heart” – because he was horny and no girl would want anything to do with him and if he didn’t know any other boys who were willing to do it, they knew me. They would suck up and kiss my ass to take back what they said about not liking me – but I wouldn’t really realize that this is what they were doing but I knew why and depending on how good they “kissed my ass,” we might wind up doing it or, nope. Some guys who backpedaled like this didn’t get a second chance with me and, dealing with girls, I learned quickly that you only get one chance to hurt my feelings and don’t expect me to like you if/when you hurt me like that.

Just more of that social shit we all go through. It wasn’t a thing of me “demanding” to be liked and liked enough so we could do it because you either liked me, liked me enough to want to have sex, or you didn’t one way or the other. Still, the only thing more exciting and comforting than having sex with a guy you liked was having it with a girl you really liked. Any or all “barriers” being removed so that we could suck and fuck each other silly and as many times as we thought we could get away with. A certain kind of indescribable thrill when I’d be fucking a guy and we’re both feeling absolutely wonderful and… he kisses me… and it wasn’t yucky at all. Or feeling him inside of me and he says that he really likes me and hearing myself saying that I really liked him, too – and don’t stop. All the grunting and groaning and silly sex sounds that weren’t all that silly anymore and that moment when I’d feel him squirting his cum in me and… it just didn’t get any better than that except, well, you know.

Sex and feelings were so tightly entwined that it was hard to tell the difference, but I’d interacted with so many boys and girls that I would learn what the differences were and, yeah, sometimes, painfully so to find out that someone wanted to have sex with me and just because they wanted to and knew that I would or, being treated like a piece of ass. Quite the terrible feeling, right? And, one day, coming to the understanding that whether you liked or liked someone, you’re still a piece of ass and the only real difference was in how you felt about someone/each other. “I don’t really like you, but I wanted to do it with you” was something it took me a lot of brain power to make sense of and it was difficult and complicated enough thinking about it that my mind would “say” to me, “That sucks… but you got laid.”

Way better than being told that I wasn’t liked and wasn’t getting laid.

It wasn’t until I really did fall in love with a guy that I got to understand my feelings and I mean really understand them. Going back in time and seeing that, indeed, there were quite a few guys who I really liked enough for it be called love and it was unsettling because (1) I hadn’t paid attention to it and (2) having said that it was impossible for me to like a guy like that and then getting kicked in the nuts – and really hard – to find out that I could… and falling in love with my boyfriend wasn’t the first time I’d felt this way about a guy.

Oh, and (3), I wasn’t gay. Being confused for a moment being told by my new boyfriend that one of the reasons why he loved me was because I wasn’t gay. Understanding that in the moment I really recognized my feelings and accepted, with a bit of difficulty, that what I felt for some guys was very real, it was the last barrier that got taken down and, man, talk about some eye-opening shit? Having feelings – real feelings – for a guy wasn’t really as bad as it was said to be and I was now proof that you could like a guy and it didn’t mean that you were a homosexual. Others running around and on the hunt for those deeper feelings and putting so much importance on them in order to have sex and, okay, I understood it but I also understood that in order for me to have sex with someone, all I had to do was like them enough to want to and whatever other feelings happened after that – and if the sex did happen – well, we can talk about it if you want to.

And, yeah, learning that having sex with someone can make you say that you love them and, um, you really don’t. Or maybe you do. One of the things I had to learn was that sex and love worked really nice with each other, but they were most definitely not the same things; you really didn’t need love to have sex – you just (1) had to want to have sex with them and (2) like them enough and if it happened to be a guy, okay, because this… twist worked with both men and women and it did not escape me that my being bisexual was very responsible for being able to understand and accept these nuances.

And then making myself cray-cray when I had to explain to someone how in the hell I could have sex with a guy, but I wasn’t into guys – and that meant, well, being gay. The continued insistence that if I slept with a guy, I had to be into guys like that and, yeah, an inaccurate assumption that was responsible for a lot of people telling me that I don’t look like the type and my understanding that, nope, I don’t look like the type because, to them, the “type” meant gay.

And I was most definitely not gay. Sometimes getting a kick out of the look on someone’s face when I’d tell them that I loved women and pussy too much to be gay and… they couldn’t process this. Did I ever have feelings for a guy? Yes, I did. Well, that means you’re really gay, right? Fuck no, it doesn’t. I have feelings. I got taught not to be afraid of them even if/when I have them for a guy. All it really means is… this is how I feel about him and the sex part, while nice, didn’t have anything to do with how or why I felt the way about him that I did.

Then, in the here and now, the Hearts Not Parts gang losing their shit and insisting that if you don’t like someone like that, then you’re not bisexual. The insistence that to be bisexual, the parts should not even be a consideration and… who the fuck are they kidding with this? But this, I would learn, is a part of that thing where sex is considered to be less important even when you did, in fact, love the shit out of someone and cannot not be that important in a relationship and, oh, by the way, if you wouldn’t get yourself into a same-sex relationship, you’re not really bisexual.

That continued belief that if you don’t have feelings for someone, you’re not supposed to have sex with them and by feelings, that excluded plain old ordinary lust; you see someone and something inside of you says, “Oh, I want to fuck them!” and nothing more than that. To have casual sex, you… need to be horny and of a mind to get laid and now it’s all about picking someone that, for you, is okay enough – and whatever that means to you, and it doesn’t mean the same thing for everyone. It was “historically” easy to have sex with a guy because the only feelings you needed were lusty ones and if they were borne out of just being horny, well, that worked. Deemed to be “better” than trying to have sex with all those feelings “getting in the way and fucking shit up.” A somewhat continued belief that if you had any kind of feelings for a guy, you might really be gay. And, yes, bisexuals totally fucking up all of these misguided perceptions.

I get to see so many guys who are all about someone being into them. I ain’t gonna say that they require a guy to be in love with them but they do have to be… emotionally invested in them or, you gotta like them for more than someone to just have sex with – and many of these guys feeling some kind of way because “the norm” continues to be more casual than relational and we have always held it as true that sex outside of a relationship is… wrong and it’s a sin. Just not the way it’s supposed to happen and no matter how much we want to bump uglies with someone.

I get it but it still and often gets me scratching my head and asking no one in particular, “What the fuck is going on here… and why is it going on?” Being into someone so that having sex is possible isn’t a bad thing and is very much in line with what I was taught as a wee lad: Never have sex with someone who you don’t care about or love and you’re not going to be in a relationship with… and learning that you can have sex with someone, not love them, and don’t want to be in a relationship with them and, really, I don’t know anyone who has sex with someone that they don’t care about – and read this as someone they wouldn’t have sex with if their life depended on it because they just do not like anything about them and there ain’t that much being desperate in the world.

Bisexuality taught me a lot about feelings. Mine as well as others. If you liked a guy, The Question might come up and if you liked a guy, it was definitely going to come up and there was great incentive to do it either way… because having sex is da shit and even with another guy. Hanging with a guy and he says he’s horny and you say that you are, too, and wishing there was something we could do about that right now and, yep, there is something we can do and it’s not “really” about liking each other but just merely liking each other does play into dicks getting sucked and, nope, I’m not going tell because I don’t know what you’re talking about (wink, wink). Again, way easier than trying to convince a girl that you really like and care about her and, yeah, even if you really didn’t – you just wanted to play Hide the Sausage with her. You just had to be horny and bold enough to want to have sex with a guy and he wasn’t going to mind one bit as long as he got to bust a nut. Or two. Feelings? Yeah, okay, I like you, but I don’t like you, but we can do it again if you want to because that’s the “only thing” that matters other than us liking each other enough to be doing it in the first place.

Bisexuality taught me this. Might have learned it if I wasn’t bi but the point is moot. I am and I did learn it. Even now, I’m sitting here and thinking about all the times I really liked a boy and frowning because I hadn’t really realized that until I really liked a man and one who told me, “They don’t get any gayer than I am!” and, yeah, I loved him for it and, hell, yeah, having sex with him was simply amazing – but it’s supposed to be when you really like – are in love – with someone; it just gets confusing because despite the obvious existence of gay men, guys can like each other like that and not be gay… and you really don’t have to like a guy like that to want to get naked with him and have sex because, um, sex is fun.

I sometimes wonder if “I’m the only one” who understands this. I know that I’m not but still. None of this is complicated for me because I understand this, and I accept that it’s the reality of things or the way it can be. It’s okay for me to have sex with a guy and not be into him – but I do have to (a) like him enough to want to and (b) find something else interesting about him while understanding that (c) things could progress from there… but they don’t have to and I have no fear about that because if it’s the way I feel, it’s the way I feel and if it’s just lust, well, okay – just don’t be my idea of an asshole and we’re good.

My bisexuality is a lot about having sex because, duh. But it’s also about my feelings and the now-proven fact that I not only have them, I can have them for a guy. Been there and was doing that before I knew I was doing that. It… just is what it is. I can really like you like that and we don’t have to have sex but, um, yeah, if you want to, I’m not going to tell you that we shouldn’t – where the fun in that and more so when you just might be thinking that us having sex would be… nice. Well, let’s find out, shall we?

And if you’re a guy, I won’t tell if you won’t.

 

Tonight’s Bisexual Thoughts: 27 November 22

I’m hot and sweaty and my muscles are protesting being between his legs but I keep my eye on the prize which, for the moment, is the hardness of his dick in my mouth. He’s hot and sweaty, too; legs often flailing and it’s like he can’t seem to make up his mind what he wants to do with his legs as he moans, curses, and saying whatever happens to come out of his mouth that will keep me doing what I’m doing.

I… love this. I even enjoyed his hubris as he prattled on about who he was gonna feed me his dick and like he was in charge of what was about to happen and… I schooled him immediately, attacking his dick in a way that let him know who was really in charge. I… was owning him. His pleasure was mine to control and I could prevent him from cumming for as long as I wanted to but that’s what he thought was going to happen, that he could “make me” suck his dick forever and a dark day.

He knows differently. He’s on the verge of giving up his cum; he’s been steadily fucking into my mouth and he wants to bury his bone deep into my throat and, um, any other day, I’d already have him good and deep but he needs a lesson and I’m just the one to teach it to him. I… tease at taking him deep again because I know he likes that and he has to know that this is not just about him; I’ve been holding and fondling his balls from the beginning and I’ve studiously ignored his request to finger-fuck his ass because, again, that’s what he wants and likes. It’s been a whole six minutes since I went to work on him and while I could, again, prolong this, I have needs and just like he does and mine trumps his.

I’m all into this battle of wills. He wants to cum and he doesn’t want to and he really believes that he can keep it from me and that he can, with his dick in my mouth, impose his will upon me and, yeah, that’s been tried before and I’ve long since lost count of how many times a guy has failed to do that. I’m running shit here and by the way he’s thrusting faster into my mouth – and I am allowing it- yeah, he knows who’s in charge. He’s saying “no” over and over; he doesn’t want this to end, doesn’t want to give up his seed and the very seed I am very hungry for and I will be fed and now would be a good time to slip a finger into his ass… and get ready for what’ll happen next.

I slide my finger in; he arches his back at my unexpected intrusion and he curses loudly and… his dick is pumping cum into my mouth and I can feel it through the finger I’ve buried in his backside. His cum is sweet and thick and while there’s not “a whole lot of it,” it’s enough to take care of the hunger that he was… foolish enough to put himself at my mercy. He really did think that he was in control and now he knows how easily I wrested that control from him. He’s done cumming and now it’s all about getting the last dregs of his seed; I can hear him starting to come down from the orgasmic high I gave him and it’s funny to hear him cussing me out and still asking Jesus what the hell just happened.

“Damn, man, you did a number on me!” he exclaims as I… struggle to get into a sitting position and, yeah, out of the heat that’s still wafting off of his body.

“I told you I would,” I said.

“But I wasn’t ready to cum yet!” he complains.

“You have me confused with someone who gives a fuck, huh?” I said and in a way to let him know that I’m joking but in a lot of ways, I wasn’t. “You had it, I wanted it, I took it from you. You gonna complain about it?”

“Hell, no!” he said. “Damn… you’re good. Scary good. That was some sneaky shit you did with your finger, too!”

“I never said that I play fair,” I said as I stretched the last few kinks out.

“That’s a tough act to follow,” he said as he began to move. I moved as well, stretching out on the bed so that he could gain access to my dick.

“I know you’ll do your best,” I said and once he got settled between my legs, I settled in for another battle of wills and smiling because this was one I was very much hoping to lose: Not everything is about winning.

He’s… decent. A bit more tentative than I’m used to but he just got done cumming and he’s running low on energy. He shoves his hands under my ass and starts moving me in and out of his mouth and, okay, I know what this means, and I start fucking his mouth, going at a speed and depth that eventually makes me let go of my ass and, hmm, a finger or two in there would be nice right about now.

He’s not so much sucking my dick as I’m fucking his mouth and I feel that I’ve won the battle of wills as he submits to whatever I want to do in his mouth and, of course, what I want to do is cum in his mouth. All hot and sweaty again; he’s huffing and puffing, working hard to get me to the edge and I feel it coming and let him know that I’m gonna cum. A somewhat unnecessary warning because it went without saying that we were going to cream each other’s tonsils but one that, so very long ago, learn to give and no matter what was agreed to.

I tell him I’m gonna cum in between some lusty curses of my own; he grabs my ass and starts shoving me into his mouth and now I’m at the point where I barely hear him gag a little and – that whiteout inside my head. I hear him go, “urp” for a brief moment but he recovers and is sucking the rest of my cum out of me and tugging on my balls and like that’s going to make more come out. Yeah, I wish it really worked like that but I’m spent and he looks like he got blindsided by a speeding vehicle and it’s all good.

“I’m jealous that you’re so comfortable doing this,” he says and interrupting my “basking in the afterglow” moment.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I ask and my throat is dry and raspy and I can still taste his cum and I’d kill for a drink of water. “I’m comfortable because I’m so used to doing it and so much that I don’t have to think about it.”

“I wish I had your confidence,” he said and the sound of his voice is warning me that he might be in distress. After all, this was his first cocksucking experience and I had told him that he might have a… moment and not a good one.

“You just believe in yourself,” I said. “You want to make the other guy happy and you just have to be confident that you’re going to do your best and to that end and not get all messed up in your head and to the point where you’re not enjoying what you’re doing.”

“I get it,” he says but the tone of his voice tells me otherwise; intelligently, he understands what I said but this is his emotions doing the talking.

“You made me cum and like it was stupidly easy,” he said.

“Like I told you, I’ve been doing this for a long time and I’ve learned some dirty tricks along the way,” I said. “It’s not that big of a deal; you wanted to get sucked off and I wanted to suck you off and that’s what happened; doesn’t matter if making you cum was easy or not as long as you did.”

“When I grow up, I wanna suck cock like you do,” he said with a laugh and one that told me that whatever distress he may have been feeling got dealt with. Good. I wonder if there’s enough time to suck him off again?

There was but we spent it doing something very meaningful: How he felt about what we’d done. He’s glad that he was finally able to realize this and agreed that he still feels… manly and, really, he doesn’t feel any different and like he thought he might. I don’t have much to say because this is about him but this whole thing was about him, well, not that “being in control” thing that he thought was going to happen. He’s a hell of a lot more relaxed than he was an hour ago and while he may not feel all that confident, I was pretty sure he wasn’t aware of how comfortable he now was but, why wouldn’t he be when he finally got to do something he’d always wanted to do… and it didn’t go bad for him?

I just smile. He’s got a lot to learn and he seems willing to learn and a lot to understand about himself. That’ll happen, too. I’m still wondering if there’s enough time to do him again but I resign myself to just waiting to see if he’s going to bring it up or we’re done for the duration. Either way, I’m good with it and I feel relieved to have given another guy a successful first experience.

Just an “idle thought” that popped into my head and needed to get out. The “moral” of the story is that when it’s your first time and it’s staring you in the face, don’t worry about anything other than doing your best and just letting it happen.

 

Life, Living and Loving: Coupling – Revisited

I find myself revisiting the TMI Tuesday piece I wrote and thinking about the very first question asked: “You unexpectedly have sex with your friend’ s partner. Your friend’s partner keeps texting you begging you to not say anything about the two of you having sex. Would you tell your friend or keep mum?”

My first revisited thought is… how do you unexpectedly have sex with someone? Okay, sure, in this situation, you might not expect to have sex with them but that doesn’t mean that you don’t want to – but the Friend Code says, “You’d better not!” It’s not that I… have ever blatantly or deliberately broken the Code – and like I know some folks have done and usually out of spite or they’re making a “power grab” for their friend’s partner.

Sometimes, shit happens when it’s not supposed to. I understand why the Code exists; I understand that you should never, ever, stab your friend in the back, as it were, or do him/her “dirty” like this. Biblically, one of the Ten Commandments makes it clear that thou shalt not cover thy neighbor’s wife nor his ass – read this as his donkey or mule – or, really, anything else that your “neighbor” might have that you don’t have… but you want what they have. Makes sense that this would get extended to friends since they could be your “neighbor” in that sense. As such, your friend’s partner is… off-limits. Oh, and so is your friend.

Human nature can trump these man-made rules and we do act like it’s not supposed to. You can prohibit such things but what can’t be done is how two people can react to each other but, at the same time, aren’t we taught to feel ashamed that you’re having such a reaction to someone who, by the Code, is off-limits to you and you’re not supposed to have any feelings for them at all and that might even include being friends with your friend’s partner?

As I originally wrote, this is some seriously messy shit and all because of how we believe and are taught about having a relationship which, all by itself, is pretty fucked up because we know more about what we’re not supposed to do than we to anything else and everyone’s brother’s cousin has their own idea of how a relationship is supposed to work and, yeah, men and women aren’t always on the same page about that… but everyone holds the Code inviolate… or they think that it really is and it is 100% devastating to find out that, nope, it isn’t. Can’t even think about how many times a friend of mind screwed my girl and I found out about it and both of them are telling me that they didn’t mean to and/or it just happened and, well, they weren’t lying about it. It wasn’t done intentionally or even maliciously; it… just happened.

Yeah, it doesn’t feel good and that’s being really nice about it. Like, a friend’s girl wanted to know why I would barely speak to them because it wasn’t like we didn’t know each other. I told her that her man – and my friend – might take us interacting with each other the wrong way – and, by the way, this is “code” for him thinking that I’m going to fuck her and wind up taking her away from him. She said that what I was nonsense and what was the real reason. I… didn’t want to tell her that I found her attractive and, yeah, I would love to get her naked and do my best to screw her brains out – and that’s why I’d see her coming and sometimes went out of my way to avoid even saying hello to her. Well, she “twisted my arm” and I told her the real reason and made it clear that us doing anything – and even if she was somehow of a mind to – violated the Code or, yeah, you don’t do your boy dirty like that.

“You act like I’m married to him,” she said. “I understand what you said but, um, what if I wanted you to fuck me?”

Yeah… she went there. The whole conversation was becoming very damned uncomfortable because I knew what the Code was but I also knew about lusting after her, too. The end of this particular story is that I didn’t fuck her even when she admitted that she wouldn’t mind one bit… but the Code exists for a reason even if it’s one that doesn’t really make a lot of sense when you tear it all apart and take a seriously close look at it.

And as I wrote in that piece, I have bonked a friend’s partner and was asked not to say a word about it… and I didn’t. How does it feel to break the Code? Pretty shitty… at first. Yeah, we shouldn’t have done that and, yeah, if he ever found out, saying that it’s gonna be bad doesn’t even come close to what could happen to the both of us. Now, I’m not all that worried about having to fight the soon-to-be-former-friend but since I’ve been on the “receiving end” of the Code being trashed, I understand how and why he’d be fighting mad, not just because I screwed his girl, but I betrayed his trust in me and… that doesn’t feel good. It lacks honor but as I wrote, human nature and reality doesn’t give a fuck about honor or the fact that your friend’s partner is sexually attractive and lust, considered to be one of the seven deadly sins, yeah, that. Lusting after your friend’s partner is bad; doing something about it even worse and that sense of betrayal, again, is pretty fucked up and it’s hard to accept that something like this can happen and no matter what the Code says to the contrary.

It’s as “silly” a notion as the part of the Code that says that friends can’t have sex with each other. And, in my mind, the questions of, “If you can’t have sex with a friend, who are you supposed to have sex with? Someone who isn’t a friend and/or someone you don’t know a whole lot about other than the fact that they want to get you naked and have their way with you? We deem this to always have a very bad outcome but the truth is… not always. I’ve had sex with a friend and we’ve both cited the code that says we shouldn’t be doing this but here we are doing it… and it’s good and it didn’t wreck our friendship and like everyone says it will. That it did, well, shit, we’re both sorry about that but we did what we both felt we had to do and there are always consequences and some of them suck donkey dick.

And as it does if you screw your friend’s partner and that gets even more “interesting” when you’re bisexual and, yeah. That. I sucked dick with a friend’s partner and, truthfully, neither of us had any intent to do so but this fell under “One Thing Led to Another” in that we got to talking about sex, we both got horny and… would it be weird if we sucked each other’s dick? As a bisexual, nope – not weird at all but, then again, there’s the Code and I know that his girl – and my friend – might lose her shit if she found out that we did this so… I’m not telling. But that same Code implies that if you break the code, you tell your friend’s partner all about it and before someone else tells them and, as can happen, take it totally out of context and even with some added embellishments and implying that you meant to do them dirty… and, fuck, that’s a lie – but one the friend whose trust you broke is going to believe that and more than they’d believe the truth that… it just happened.

Yeah, didn’t expect to but here we are. And my understanding that this wouldn’t be one of those end-of-the-world things if we didn’t have this… cockeyed perception about how friendships and relationships are supposed to be. Neither thing allows for nature wanting to run its course which is why the prohibition – and the resulting Friend Code – exists in the first place. I point, once again, to what a very wise woman told me about not being able to do anything about the way you feel and only being able to do something about how you might act on those feelings and… I was friends with her husband, and I most definitely screwed her because… we had to. Now, you’re thinking that, no, we didn’t have to but, yeah, we did because we both felt the chemistry happening between us and knew what had to be done. We resisted. We even lied to each other about what we were feeling. Cited how wrong it would be.

And we did it anyway. No regrets. We understood that it wasn’t to spite our partners in any way but we also understood that unless we did it, this was going to keep fucking with us. And, oh, boy, did we ever do it. And, yes, she told me not to tell… my wife, who was also her friend even though she knew that my wife and I were open. I understood it. And. I. Didn’t. Tell. Yeah, you’d think that she would ask me to not tell her husband and my friend but not telling him, well, that was a given. Maybe you’d be surprised that neither of us felt bad about what we’d done (and more than once or twice) and neither of us did because… we both understood human nature. We both got a lesson on what chemistry is really like. Unexpected? Neither of us did and we both got schooled in something that the Code and our morality says should have never been felt and should have never happened and, gasp, the betrayal and dishonor of it all.

One of the many lessons life teaches us about how “not supposed to” doesn’t mean that it can’t happen. How can one unexpectedly have sex in this situation? It’s not really all that difficult and more so if, by chance, you believe that things happen when they’re supposed to. The mitigation of guilt or, really, justifying one’s actions. You didn’t expect it to happen, but it did. Your “fault” and your friend’s partner’s fault because they are not supposed to want anyone other than the one they’re with… and getting a serious dose of reality. Yes, there are those of you who’d read this and say, “I wouldn’t do that!” and… good for you. Seriously. It’s a mess you don’t want anything to do with and you sure as hell wouldn’t want to have this happen to you.

Consent… means something. Adults are allowed to consent to sex except in certain situations, oh, like being in a relationship and don’t you dare have the hots for your friend! It’s not about… temptation and the mandate that we should always resist temptation but, yeah, human nature doesn’t give a fuck about this, either. The… exception to breaking the Code is if it was not done maliciously or with the intent to take your friend’s partner away from them or, look, shit, I didn’t mean to and, okay, we didn’t try hard enough to stop it from happening, but it did and saying that I’m sorry it did… is pretty empty. I am but I’m not because… consent means something. It’s part of the reality that says that if you have someone, they can be taken away from you but, sometimes, it’s not about taking them away from you but all about answering a call of nature that the rules and codes say that we have to ignore.

It’s not really about the times when I broke the Code… because I haven’t said a thing about the many, many times I could have broken the Code… and I didn’t. Knowing that if I wanted them, I could have them and more so when they made it very clear that I could have them if I wanted to and, a few times, it killed me to have a friend’s partner standing naked before me and… I made them get dressed and because that’s how it had to be. It’s just that, yeah, sometimes, I broke it. Without intent or malice. One thing led to another and, shit, we shouldn’t be doing this, but we can stop but, um, shit, we’re already well into it and stopping now, well, okay, you’re already “in trouble” so in for a penny, in for a pound – and now it’s all about accepting the consequences of your actions. How… fucked up it feels to be asked not to tell and the really fucked up thing where it’s… honorable to be dishonorable and, yeah, messy. Seriously so. Damn it all to hell. Us not really understanding the power lust and sex brings to the party and, yeah, when you’re not expecting it to show up and then, without offense, being naive enough to believe that nothing should happen because everything we believe about this says that it shouldn’t.

We didn’t mean to. It… just happened. Knew it was wrong and did it anyway and we did consent to do it even though we both know that if it was discovered that we did, there’s going to be some shit, oh, 99% of the time and there’s that one slim 1% where that friend… understands and it changes nothing between the two of them because they know that, sometimes, shit happens when it’s not supposed to and, yeah, sometimes in that slim 1%, they knew it was going to happen before either of us knew that it would.

The sometimes-harsh reality that human nature doesn’t give a rat’s ass about the rules we make. We all hope that something like this never happens – that’s some seriously fucked up shit and there’s no doubt about that – while, I think, being in denial of some stuff about the nature of the beast that we’re not supposed to be acting like when, well, shit happens when it’s not supposed to. Doing a wrong and then adding another by keeping what happened on the down low.

Shit.

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: 26 November 22

Man, this year is just flying right along!

A man’s cock is an interesting thing. In one state, it’s just a soft, floppy appendage attached to our body and, well, we pee. In another state – and we get stimulated – it can go, become firm and hard while at the same time, is also silky smooth to the touch and we go from not being able to ejaculate to doing it and after we do, it goes back to being that soft and floppy thing that’s attached to us.

I remember being told not to play with it… so you know that’s exactly what I did. I would marvel over going from soft to hard and how good it would feel but knowing that if one of my parents caught me doing it, well, that would be bad. I remember how… tingly I would feel and it was such a strange feeling but not a bad one. Yes, it was a great relief to know that because I was playing with it, I hadn’t gone blind, and I would find out that my thing was for more than just going to the bathroom. I mean, who knew that a girl’s kitty cat was the place I could put my thing in when it got hard? I hadn’t known that… but I sure found out and, oh, boy, did that feel good and weird and learning how to do “it” to a girl was the most amazing thing ever and especially when there were moments when I’d get really tingly and kinda/sorta not feeling okay but feeling okay.

Then I learned about dicks. Soft and floppy one moment, hard and silky smooth the next. The tip soft and spongy and leaking something that wasn’t pee; being totally clueless about what it was but, hmm, it had an interesting taste – but not as interesting as what wound up in my mouth moments later! Thick, warm, and kinda sweet and kind of salty and there was a lot of it and so much that I didn’t know what to do with it so I… swallowed it. It just kinda slid down into my stomach and I knew that I was onto something that was wonderful and amazing and I couldn’t wait to tell my friends what I had found out about…

Only to find out that a lot of them already knew. Well, damn! But that was okay because that meant that we could do things to our dicks to make them go from soft to hard, well, if they were even soft at that point and they usually weren’t because we were about to do it and, of course, the “it” was… having sex. I loved having their dicks in my mouth and feeling how hard but how soft they were; hearing them moaning or, sometimes, giggling and discovering that we all knew about that “good feeling” we would get that would, for a moment, take our breath away then the feeling would go away and maybe our dick went back to being soft but sometimes it didn’t and, well, that was fine because that meant being able to keep right on sucking on it or the other thing that could be done with it and in that place that everyone knew was dirty and nasty.

It didn’t take us long to figure out (about two days after my first experience) that if you get your dick wet and slippery, um, it could go in that place and those of us who had already done it to a girl found that, yep, you can do the same thing to a boy and, man, having a guy’s thing in your butt felt weird, but kinda good, too. Sometimes it hurt for a moment but after a while – and while he was doing it to you – it felt good more than it felt bad and even I would get to giggling to feel a guy’s dick… twitching inside of me and I learned to equate this with that good feeling we all would feel. A guy would have that good feeling, his thing would get all twitchy and some guys said that they felt light-headed at the same time but that, too, would pass, their dick was still hard and, well, just keep right on doing it!

There were older guys who could… shoot the stuff and I got to taste it and feel them shooting it in me but I’d also feel a sense of sadness when their dick would go from hard and smooth to soft and dangly and having more fun with it was going to take a while. Among the “newly-formed” Band of Horny Brothers, we couldn’t wait to be able to shoot the stuff! And then, one day, I did for the first time and, yeah – still embarrassed to think about how that went. It seemed to me that once I did it, the rest of my friends started doing it “shortly” thereafter, but it wasn’t long before we were having a field day shooting the stuff into each other’s mouth or butt. So many tastes, feelings, sounds, and smells to process. Some of us liked the way the stuff tasted and some hated it; likewise, some girls liked it in their mouth but they liked it better in their kitty cat or, yep, sometimes in their butt even if our dick wound up there by accident because, um, we weren’t that adept at getting in the right hole.

Having a hand on a friend’s dick. Feeling him go from soft to hard and still amazed at how something that could get so hard still feel smooth and all that. Putting his dick into my mouth and sucking on it; hearing him making those sex sounds that just made me want to laugh because, in retrospect, we sounded like idiots. But if he was making the sounds, that meant that what I was doing felt good to him and that also meant that, at some point, it was really going to feel good and… his stuff – the jizzum as the old dudes were heard to call it – would start shooting into my mouth and, usually, it tasted so good and sometimes, ugh, it didn’t and I would begin to find myself feeling… sad or upset when he stopped shooting it – but only for a moment because we were learning that if we “took a break for a few minutes,” we’d go from soft and floppy to being bigger and harder and here we go again!

While some guys didn’t like it in their butt, well, um, I did. We knew that we all had dicks but we also found out that they weren’t all the same; some were longer than others and some were fatter or thinner and some had that ugly skin covering everything up and most of us didn’t and all of this would come together to make having a guy do it to me in my butt… interesting. Sometimes a bit more painful than I anticipated but while I knew that some of my friends would complain and beg the other guy to take it out – and especially if the guy stuck it in “too far,” well, I wasn’t going to be that guy because I knew that if I complained about it too much, he was going to stop and be mad at me and not shoot his stuff in me.

It wasn’t lost on me that a male friend would do to me what I would do to a girl and if she let me shoot it in her at all. We all knew that girls were weird but we had discovered sex and knew that our stuff could make a baby in them and, at least to me, it made sense that some girls were afraid to get it in their pussy but, okay and it was okay because we’d overhear the adults talking about some woman or girl who could have a baby “getting into trouble” and the guy who got them into trouble would also be in trouble and, nope, wasn’t trying to find out what that really meant.

Which made us guys doing it to each other and filling each other’s butt up with the jizzum more of a fun thing to do. Girls were afraid of it… but we weren’t. Man, kid logic is a thing of beauty and much of what we were doing to girls and each other… just made sense and for me to say that we all lost our minds over the sex thing is me being really polite about it. What we didn’t know about the sex thing we learned. Quickly. Who knew it could be fun to do it to a girl and a boy at the same time? We found out that it was, well, most of the time and especially with the people us boys were told to stay away from: The Hot in the Ass girls. The ones who didn’t mind sucking us off or taking us in their pussy, their ass and, sometimes, both. And then learning something else about my dick.

That day when I was playing with a friend and my dick got hard… and my balls started to hurt. Just a little at first but it really started to hurt pretty bad and I had no idea why they were hurting. Talk about uncomfortable? My friend noticed it and asked what was wrong and I told him that I didn’t know but my nuts were hurting really bad now. He asked me if my dick was hard and I told him that it was and that it was hurting, too. He said, “I know what’s wrong – watch this!” He pulled his dick out of his pants and played with it until it went from soft and floppy to hard and standing up; he wrapped his hand around it and started pulling on it and, wow, that was interesting but the pain in my groin wasn’t getting any better.

“Take it out and do what I’m doing,” he said. I did and, okay, what’s going to make this not hurt so much? He… played a dirty trick on me by telling me to get real close and just watch what happens and I got right up there, and I really wanted his dick in my mouth but he said to watch so I did, and while mimicking what he was doing with his hand. A moment later, he started moaning and groaning and he… shot his stuff all over my face! Yuck! But, hmm, it did look kinda cool seeing it shooting out all over the place and a few moments later, I got that really good feeling; my dick got harder and even a little longer and… I was caught up between shooting my jizz and watching it shooting out of the head of my dick and feeling it pulsing and pumping in my hand and, importantly, the moment that happened, my balls stopped hurting.

Then I punched my friend in the face for tricking me like that. Still, I had learned something else – how to make myself shoot and some stuff about my body, too, and despite it having been a painful lesson. Now I knew what “being horny” really was and that there was something you could do about it and you could do this all by yourself and, yeah, you probably know I had a field day doing this new thing I learned. I had a lot of fun making my dick go from soft and floppy to nice and hard and still fascinated at how silky it felt at the same time. Feeling it in my hand and finding ways to make it feel even better and just getting lost when I’d shoot my jizz “all over the place” and, one time, shot myself in the face and almost getting it in my eyes! Sometimes shooting it “so hard” that it would make my butthole hurt! Ah, but then I figured out that I could “jerk” myself and finger-fuck my butt at the same time! Okay, that took a lot of focus and coordination, but I got the hang of it and while it was always fun to have sex with someone else, having sex with myself… was rather nice. I thought that it didn’t get any better than this.

Then I found out that it could and did. I’d like to take this moment to thank my late father for telling me not to do something that I hadn’t known anything about. I knew about that “bump” that girls had in their pussy and that they called it “the little man in the boat” and girls liked it when you rubbed it – but not too hard – but who knew that you could lick and suck it just like you can lick and suck a guy’s dick? I hadn’t known that… but I found out. I found out that if you lick and suck it the right way, their clit would get hard and just like a dick did; if you really licked and sucked it the right way, it would start twitching and just like a guy’s dick would when he shot cum, which was the new word in the vocabulary… but girl’s didn’t shoot cum (but I would learn differently a lot of years later!) but they either really liked how that felt or it was too weird for them but if sucking dick fascinated me, eating pussy did… although I didn’t really understand why it was called “eating” but what I knew was… I loved the shit out of it. And some girls had bigger clits than others but it remained true that if you licked and sucked on it the right way, oh, man, it felt so good to do this and girls, again, either really liked it or not so much.

I mean, really – who knew they got hard like we did? That, depending on the girl, you could spread those lips apart and you might not really see her clit but, ah, when you got to licking and sucking on it, yeah – there it is! It felt hard but also smooth and it drove girls crazy, making them smash my face into their pussy and, whew, I thought guys behaved in crazy ways when I’d suck their dick and they were about to cum… but it didn’t come close to how girls behaved when they were about to cum or, as I would learn, have “the big O” and “O” stood for orgasm and another thing I learned and especially that boys could have them, too; that was, as I would learn one day when I was happily jerking off, when you feel like you came but you really hadn’t yet. Good stuff.

Still and for me, there was always that thrill of taking a guy’s soft dick in my mouth and feeling it getting hard as I sucked it. The taste and feel; that musky scent and, oh, yeah, hair down there that if you weren’t careful could get stuck in your teeth. Cupping his balls and noticing how they’d start out “hanging low” but the more excited they got and the closer they got to cumming, how they’d start to snug up closer to their body; noticing that just before they came, I could feel… tremors running along their shaft then, man, feeling their dick start to swell – a little or a whole lot – in my mouth; hearing him losing his mind and, often, shouting out that he was gonna do it or cum and… then he does. Hot and tasty cum blasting into my mouth and feeling his dick pumping and twitching like crazy and he’s either writhing in pleasure or “frozen stiff” as he shot his cum into my mouth. Feeling a great sense of accomplishment and a bit of sadness when his dick would stop pumping and he’s starting to get soft… and knowing that if I wanted to suck his dick again – or take it in my ass – well, I was going to have to wait.

Who knew that you could do this to a girl, and she would cum more than once and would actually want to keep doing that again and again? That it would make her feel so… crazy that, sometimes, she’d move away from me so fast that it wasn’t funny and the looks they’d give me? Looking at me like was trying to kill them or like they were afraid of me but learning that, no, they weren’t afraid – it was just a reaction they’d have when I’d eat their pussy really good and, sometimes, better than they expected. Girls were… insane when they came. I got hurt a lot eating them and, well, that didn’t happen when I sucked a guy’s dick other than them trying to ram all of it down my throat but I knew how to stop them from doing that… but that didn’t work on girls and I took it as being good at eating them when they’d literally beat me up and, eventually, begging me to stop eating them.

Good stuff. For me, sucking a guy’s dick from soft to hard and back to soft was so good and fascinating and not all that different from doing the same thing to a girl’s pussy because, as I would learn, her clit was just like our dicks – just with some noted differences but their clit had a head and a shaft and just like we did and, oh, hell, yeah. It was called “giving head” and while there were many who didn’t like giving it or getting it, well, hmm – something must be wrong with them because giving and getting it was so damned good. There were both girls and guys who didn’t like having cum in their mouth and, okay, that’s why it was being said to be an acquired taste. Yeah, a guy’s cum could sometimes taste horrible and sometimes so bad that I had to spit it out but it was becoming clearer that I was one of those guys who would do what a lot of girls wouldn’t: Let a guy cum in my mouth and swallow it – unless it tasted shitty.

And in the doing, learning so much about males, females, and how they looked at and thought about what it meant to have sex and how the way I thought, looked at and felt about it was… different. There were the straight ones and the gay ones and then there were guys and gals just like me – and the word was bisexual. Hetero is Greek for opposite; homo means the same; bi means two or both and especially when sexual was attached. Hmm. Learning how and why some people were really funny about having sex and some just weren’t all that funny about it but also knowing that if you weren’t heterosexual, that made you a very bad person in the eyes and minds of many and, well, who knew how stupid people could be about it? Well, not really stupid in that sense but I both amazed and greatly saddened to bear witness to the fact that there were a lot of people who really didn’t seem to understand sex and definitely not how I was learning to understand it.

Having sex with a guy could be good and satisfying. Sucking each other off. Fucking each other and because I had sex with girls, knowing and understanding that the guy was doing the same thing to me that I would gleefully do with girls. Learning to cope with that really girly feeling I’d experience when being fucked and especially when the guy would cum inside of me. So good. “Deliciously nasty,” as I would come to describe it given where his cum was going. The very sure knowledge and understanding that I should not be having sex with a guy – period. But, shit, because girls were really funny about who they had sex with – and if they would at all – what did they – society – think guys were going to do? I understood why homosexual men were hated so much but would reason that it’s… unrealistic to think that just because a guy is a guy, his only sexual interest are girls… because, clearly, that wasn’t what was really going on.

And then, there were folks like me. People to which it didn’t make a difference if the person they had sex with was male or female because what was important was… having sex. The intimacy and thrill of it and reveling in the differences between the male and female form but, at least for me, also noticing the similarities, too. What was so damned good about it and what wasn’t good at all and then understanding that it wasn’t the sex that was bad… but some people just made it bad. C’est la vie. Seeing that sex has a beauty to it; form that follows function. Still fascinated over my own dick being good and hard but soft to the touch at the same time. The simple joy and pleasure in getting myself off and, one day, getting it into my head that it just might be possible for me to suck my own dick!

As it turned out, it wasn’t that easy to do and there were a lot of aches and pains experienced in the doing. It… wasn’t enough to be able to contort myself enough to get the head of my dick almost in my mouth and wind up shooting myself in the face more often than not. No. I had to suck my dick. It was a great accomplishment to be able to get the head of my dick in my mouth and suck on it until I came and, man, was that one hell of a set of feelings! I knew what it felt like to be sucked and I knew what it felt like to suck a dick but to feel both of those things at the same time? Incredible doesn’t cover it… but even that wasn’t enough and after more aches, pains, and some pulled muscles and sprains, I was finally able to give myself a proper blowjob and, oh, my God. The focus it took to ignore my body’s complaints while pretty much losing my mind to feel my hard softness in my mouth and doing to myself what I loved to do to other men and busting one hell of a nut in my mouth. About as crazy a feeling as anything I’d ever felt before. Also the one time in my life where I wished my dick was longer than it was and “way longer” would have been nice but I could do it. Better than jerking off. Figured out that I could suck myself off while, um, borrowing my wife’s vibrator and turning that puppy on to its highest setting and… wow. Holy shit. Cumming in my mouth and like it would never end and then feeling all wobbly and walking funny going to the bathroom to thoroughly clean her vibrator and, yeah, holy shit that was fucking intense.

Gingerly sitting down later and wondering that if I weren’t bisexual, would I have discovered these joys and sensations – and being very damned glad that I did discover and indulge myself in them. Oh, and a moment of sheer embarrassment because my wife figured out that I was playing with her toy because I failed to put it back exactly where she had it. Uh-oh. But it was cool, and she thought it was hilarious… but, then again, she already knew what I was. And then learning that this was way more than just sex. Much more. Having a boyfriend was one hell of an experience and more emotional than physical even though we were very physical with each other. His dick was… perfect. A work of art that I had learned to appreciate but appreciated it more because I did love him but his perfection was all in the size and shape of his dick, both soft and floppy and hard and silky smooth and, for me, it was the final lesson learned about being bisexual, that being, no one is really immune to the power of love and if I didn’t understand homosexuals before, I got taken to school. Big time.

And understanding more about myself. Now, I’ve written this in some form and way before. This… got back into my head because I woke up and… my dick was hard. It’s what woke me up, to be honest about it. My hand went to it automatically and renewed my fascination of being “rock hard” but still silky smooth at the same time and then… my bladder had something to say and, okay, time to get up and take care of that and… sit down and write about what it’s like to… have a hard-on. From what it feels like to how I really learned to… love a man’s dick and, of course, my own. Learning about sex and a lot of the ways it can be done. Sucking dick. Tasting and swallowing cum. Deliriously happy that I disobeyed my father and went right out to put my mouth on a girl’s pussy and learning that I could drive them crazy using my lips and tongue and, again, not all that different from having a guy’s hard softness in my mouth and sucking on him until he came… and, one day, finding out that women can cum, too, and, um, it’s a very wet experience. Feeling their clitty twitching and pulsing in my mouth and in a very familiar way. Feeling it go from soft and supple to hard and, yeah, oddly, silky smooth at the same time. Taking in how they react to being eaten into orgasm and more than once or twice.

And sitting here writing this all over again and thinking that had I not gotten some dick that fateful day, I might not have learned what I learned. Maybe I would have but the point is moot because I did learn…

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: 25 November 22

I’ve always been a student of bisexuality and I’ve learned a lot about it over the decades but the one thing that continues to elude me is why a man who has never, ever, given a single thought about having sex with a man decides that this is what he wants and needs to do.

Sure, I’ve talked to guys who made this decision and, for the most part, they’ve said that “it sounded like a good idea” or other things along those lines. I know that some guys… stumble into this and by this, I mean that something happens that gets the idea in their head, or they find themselves having that first experience but there was no intent to think about this or, gulp, it’s happening. One guy told me that he wound up having his first experience because he got to talking to a guy in the market about the long cashier lines and “the next thing he knew,” the two of them were at his house and giving each other head.

And he insisted that before this happened, he never had a single thought about sex like this. Stuff like this has had me sitting, thinking, and asking myself, “How does this happen?” Classically, a guy in a sexless relationship is struggling with it and thinking about what, if anything, he can do about it and, okay, I’d say this is pretty normal but what “tells” him that the solution to his dilemma is to have sex with a man?

Guys with prior experience? I understand that and I understand intellectual bisexuals, those guys who are aware of bisexuality in males, are in touch with their feelings but there’s no need for them to have the sex. That such men would decide to take the plunge, well, it makes sense given that they’ve had it on their mind albeit in the background of things. But way back when I was in my twenties, I saw a lot of men who were 100% against sex with men “suddenly” decide that this was a good thing for them to do and asking them why they had this change of mind did reveal certain situations that tended to have something to do with women. Okay. This wasn’t unknown to me but what was – and still is – unknown was… what made them decide that having sex with a guy was the thing they had to do?

And I don’t know. I have a boatload of theories and none of which I can really prove, i.e., there aren’t too many guys who don’t know about gay men and the sex they have. I have theorized that if a guy says that he’s never thought about doing such a thing, well, he’s still thinking about it even in the negative… right? I still remember sitting and talking to a guy and how the conversation went from talking about local event to him asking me, “Why do I want to suck your dick?” And… I didn’t know and, apparently, neither did he because he was just as shocked at what he said as I was hearing it.

That we did it is… immaterial at this point. I gave him the third degree after we finally got done with each other because I wanted to know if he knew why he wanted to do something that I’d heard him say many times before that he didn’t believe in and would never do. He couldn’t explain it. Said that it was a feeling that hit him in the moment he said it. I considered that he was trying to play the innocent game with me, you know, he had the intent on wanting to do this and trying to make me believe that it came out of nowhere, but I’d seen this one many times before and, yeah, you can’t bullshit a bullshitter and this guy didn’t give that… bullshitter feel and like a lot of guys in the ‘hood did. He’s asking me why he wanted to do it and, shit, if he didn’t know, I sure as hell didn’t.

Okay. I knew that, for some guys, sex with a dude was at the very bottom of their list of things to do or “in case of emergency.” As I’ve said before, those guys would crack me up talking about what they’d do if some faggot asked to suck their dick and how they’d teach him a lesson… by letting the guy suck his dick. Hilarious. Just so full of shit but observing this is what got me theorizing that if a guy has thought about this but is, well, “homophobic,” the thought is still in his mind somewhere and very likely waiting and biding its time to make an appearance and, usually, when they least expect it.

Kinda/sorta makes sense but, sheesh, I’ve had sex with men who have, by their own admission – and they have no reason to lie – been heterosexual their whole life and here they are talking to me about having sex with me and when asked what put this into their head, they’ve just shrugged, said it sounds like a good idea, I seemed to be a understanding kind of guy and one guy admitted that he felt sexually attracted to me and he also said that he didn’t know why he was since men aren’t supposed to be sexually attracted to each other – but he knew about gay men.

Do I really want to know? Eh, not really because I feel that I will never find out the mechanism behind this; this is just me “riffing” about the one thing about male bisexuality that I do not understand and… I don’t like not knowing something. Yeah, I’m just quirky like that. I’m somewhat “content” to know that the subconscious mind has some shit going on that we aren’t aware of and that it… whispers shit to us and in a way that makes it sound and feel like something we came to some kind of decision about. I’ve suspected that one’s subconscious could… put this “out there” and the conscious mind makes a decision but is unaware of where this came from and if this is the case, I’m good with it because nothing else I’ve learned about this make sense.

I’ve thought that the conscious mind tends to… reject stuff like, we know that men aren’t supposed to have sex with each other or have “feelings” for each other that isn’t just friendship… but the subconscious mind can have… other ideas and, I suspect, pokes a guy and, consciously, he’s not even aware that he’s being poked or if he is, he consciously “pushes it out of his mind.” Until, one day, he gets poked and it gets stuck in his conscious mind and right along with certain situations and just like I’ve heard a lot of guys say, “all of a sudden,” they want and need to know what it’s like to have sex with a man and now they’re “off and running” with it and consciously supplying a lot of reasons for why they need to know about and do this – and those reasons are, usually, valid ones up to and including, “I always wanted to know what it’s like.”

I grew up meeting guys who wanted to know if I’d ever done it with a boy and because they hadn’t, but they wanted to. I would wonder why they wanted to but, yeah, it wasn’t that important… at the time. They’d ask questions, I’d do my best to answer them, and they were either going to go for it or decide it was in their best interest not to. I would learn that they’re asking me about it because they knew some guy or guys who were doing it to each other and… they’re curious and curiosity “demands” to be satisfied one way or the other.

Sigh. It’s a mystery that I know that I won’t be able to solve. This is filed under, “I Don’t Know Why But I Know That It Happens.” A guy tells me that he really doesn’t know why he wants to do this and I say that I understand because I do understand that they really might not know and, again, suspect that something in their subconscious is… messing with them. Poking them to take the plunge and maybe “pointing out all of the reasons” why they should do this but leaving it up to the consciousness to make decisions. I’ve sat with such men and have listened to their justifications to do something they know they’re not supposed to do and, again, never gave any thought about. And here they are asking me about it – doesn’t matter if I’m the guy they want to do something with or they have someone else in mind.

Mysterious. Bugs the shit out of me because all I have are unproven theories. I want to know because guys ask me if I know what made them think of this and damned if I really know and I just learned to admit that I don’t know – because I don’t. Oh, well.