Man, this getting up early in the morning has had some weird shit running through my brain! I got out of bed, stumbled to the bathroom – stepped over the cat – and when I looked in the mirror, my brain said, “You do realize that you’re a predator, don’t you?”
I was like, “What? Where the fuck did that come from and what the fuck are you talking about?”
Yeah, I can have these kinds of conversations with myself, okay? Anyway, my brain said, “Not that kind of predator but you are and have been guilty of looking and men and plotting on how you’d suck them off…”
Oh – that. Yeah, guilty as charged… but as I tried to get the soap out of my right eye, I was thinking about how I look at men and realized that, no, I don’t look at the guys in the same way I look at women, like, I’ll note their physical appearance and all that and my mind just says that it is what is when comes to this and that the real attraction is what’s going on inside their head – beauty is only skin deep after all and, gulp, what they’re hiding in their pants is of high interest. I got the soap out and looked at my reflection and the somewhat sheepish grin on my face because, of course, I know exactly how my mind works when it comes to this, even if I’m not fully aware that the predatory part of my mind is scoping out potentially tasty victims.
It’s not like I’m really on the prowl or anything like that but I’ve always believed that if I’m not looking, then something’s wrong with me and I’m obviously not dead yet. I know that I don’t purposely stare at people like they’re something good to eat… but I don’t kid myself and say that I’m not thinking about what it would be like to go down on them and, yeah, I sometimes surprise myself when I notice that this is exactly what I’m thinking about. Ah, the mind is such a wonderful thing and something that, um, isn’t always under total control.
I know that my mind will see a guy – any legal-age guy to be more clear – and ask, “Hmm, I wonder what it would be like to suck him off? If I were to hit on him, would he freak out? Show some interest? Act like I never said anything to him?” The noodle takes it further: “What does his dick look like? Is he cut or uncut?” My mind doesn’t really ponder size – I’ve had some really big dicks to play with and I’m just not impressed by size – and I’m not put off by any lack of size; the Dirty Old Man (certified, of course) in my head says that, hey, as long as it works, it’s all good, right?
Back in the day, when I was trying to get a handle on this whole sexuality thing, shit, it used to embarrass the shit out of me to realize that I might be ogling some guy’s crotch, thinking about the cock hiding behind pants and underwear (if they were wearing them) and hoping that the other guy didn’t notice and catch me doing it. And, yeah, sometimes I would get caught, adding to my embarrassment and, once, starting a fight because the dude called me a faggot and them’s fighting words as he found out. It took me a while to get used to the fact that I would easily undress a man with my eyes as I would any woman and that my thoughts were quite similar despite the sex difference, just as it took me a while to get used to the fact that, yup, there’s a part of my mind that just owns the gutter more than just being all up in it.
As I brushed my teeth, I had this… look on my face that said, yeah, this is the truth about yourself but… – and I have no idea what thought might have followed the “but…” except I know that deep down inside, I do accept this about myself, that I do undress men like I do women and that when I do, I’m thinking about his cock, how hard it can get, what it would taste and feel like in my mouth and how much sperm can I coax out of him. For me, this is all a part of accepting my bisexuality and keeping myself up-to-date on where I stand with it all. Sometimes it ‘bothers’ me that I can look at a truly handsome man and his looks and/or body type doesn’t even raise my pulse – if you want to have sex with someone, shouldn’t you at least be attracted to them by what you see on the outside?
It’s not I can’t or don’t appreciate good looks and the like… but I also know that I’ve learned that just because it looks good doesn’t mean that it is as good as advertised; you learn – and the hard way – that the cover is hiding some pretty shitty things, a wolf in sheep’s clothing, as it were. You learn that when it comes to this, you need to pay more attention to attitude and mindset more than going gaga over good looks and a slamming body; this is even more important than the size of his dick because you also learn that bigger ain’t always better (but it is damned nice to look at).
And you know what? I’m actually rather happy that I can look at a man’s crotch (very discretely) and feel my pulse quicken just to fantasize about what he might be packing and what I’d love to do with it and that my thoughts aren’t all that different from when I look at a woman and wonder what her pussy would taste and feel like. Fuck, I’m not only bisexual but I damn sure ain’t dead yet! I like the fact that while I might think about it, I know the difference between window-shopping and trying to actually get my hands (and mouth) on it… and the truth – and one that I’ve always been aware of – is that I’m not really all that attractive to men, not in the way women attract me – hell, not even close. I’ve been called out by gays and other bisexuals – and especially a few straight people because I don’t look at this in the way they think I should, like I have to be attracted and equally so. When it comes to women, sure, I’m about them mind, body, and soul but when it comes to men – I’m all about the dick and the like-mindedness of the guy it’s attached to.
A few folks tried to shame me or, even better, try to tell me what I should do about this and all based on things like attraction and chemistry – and this is something I still believe a lot of people actually know nothing about; but I know that this is their idea, their perception, and while I do take note of such things, I know that the final say in this belongs to me and me alone – I say what turns me on about a man and no one can tell me otherwise: It’s not about how they do their thing – it’s about I do mine. they say I’m not really bisexual because I don’t have any romantic intents in mind about men, like having a relationship with them as I would with a woman. Ah, but I know that not only do I not have any such intents, I don’t have to have them in order to suck his cock – all I really need is for him to say yes (or ask me if I’d be willing to do him) and I have that sense that I can trust him or maybe just like him enough to suck the life out of him.
And I thought about all of this… and in the twenty minutes I spent in the bathroom. Do I look at men with predatory thoughts? I sure do and, funny, I don’t really think about whether or not they’d really be agreeable – I just think about how it makes me feel to suck dick and those of you who have followed my thoughts about this know that it’s right up there with eating pussy and a very close second at that.
Ah, man… now I gotta start the preparations for my colonoscopy tomorrow…