The Other Questions Are…

20 Aug

“…How can you do some shit like that?”

Several answers to this one, beginning with, “Because I can!” and including, “That’s kinda hard to explain…” or even “Why not?  It’s still sex, ain’t it?” are some of the answers I’ve been known to give to the overly curious.  Maybe someone just wakes up one morning and decide, “I’m going to suck some dick!” and if that’s something someone has done, I’ve never heard of it although I suppose it’s possible but only if the guy had this thought running around in his head in the first place.

As y’all know, I didn’t have the advantage of being bisexual just creep up on me; I literally got hit in the mouth with it, found that sucking on a dick until it shot its stuff was good and getting that same stuff shot into my butt, while a little painful, wasn’t really all that bad either.  Even though I’d heard all the warning and cautions about this, because I didn’t have any preconceived notions about this kind of sex, I guess it made it easy for me to roll with it because my only real worry was getting caught doing it.

I can do shit like that because it’s fun (most of the time) and I find it very satisfying and even more when I’m supposedly not supposed to be doing it – I’ve never been accused of being a conformist and being ‘bad’ can be a lot of fun.  I’ve since learned that people are born to fuck and be fucked and despite some rules about some of that, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m not doing anything that other men who are like have done and so far back in the past you need history books to find out about it.

“Damn, don’t it feel weird to be sucking some dude’s dick?”

Sometimes it does feel weird because that, ah, reminder about not doing it seems to be permanently stuck in my head and when I’m sucking on a cock, it likes to remind me that I’m not supposed to be doing that. Otherwise, no, not as a matter of course and if there’s one feeling I know I feel, it’s elation… but it’s hard to explain that if you’ve never sucked a dick although eating pussy is a similar feeling so if you know how good eating pussy makes you feel, then you understand why sucking dick makes me feel… elated, good, ecstatic, and hungry.  When I have to answer this question, I make it clear that at least in my own mind, I’m not sucking his dick to make him happy – I do it to make myself happy and if he benefits along the way, so much the better.

“You let a motherfucker cum in your mouth?  What does it taste like?”

I’d honestly say that 8 out 10 times, I will swallow; in the other two times, I might spit if I find it displeasing or I’ll stop short of sucking him off and finish him with my hand.  Going back to the taste, well, if you’ve heard it’s an acquired one, that’s putting it mildly since so many things can affect what a man’s dick and his cum will taste like.

“Does it make you feel like a freak?”

No, not really although I’m aware that there are people who would think so.

“Doesn’t getting boned in the ass hurt?”

It can be damned uncomfortable because, yeah, you’re trying to stick something rather big into an orifice that was designed to be exit-only but like I’ve heard it said, “If something that big can come out of there, something big can go in there!”  It’s true… if not always an easy thing to do but once you get the dick inside you and you have a moment to adjust, being fucked feels great.  If you’ve never been fucked or even fingered back there, well, you’re just not gonna have any idea of what it’s like and while I’ve heard of guys using dildos and the like to fuck themselves or even getting their woman to strap on a toy and do it to him good, but it’s not the same as having another human being inside your body and you only have to go ask a woman to confirm this if you’re not of a mind to find out for yourself.

“Weren’t you afraid that someone might try to rape you?”

Someone did and to this very day, I say it was my fault for not paying attention to all the signs I should have seen.  I stupidly went home with him – blame the hormones and my curiosity again – and even more stupidly accepted something to drink from him.  The next thing I know, I’m tied down on a bed and being fucked… and there was nothing I could do about it.  He fucked my ass several times, fuck my mouth and creamed my tonsils; he even sucked me off and rode my cock; in my after-the-fact thinking, I couldn’t help but be impressed with his prowess and ability to cum as many times as he did… but I don’t think he gave any thought about whatever it was he drugged me with was going to wear off sooner than he thought or that I couldn’t figure out how to get my hands loose.  It wore off when he had finished dumping yet another load of cum into my ass and while he was kinda sitting there basking in it all, I got my hands loose – and things went very bad for him after that.

I did my best to kill him but that didn’t happen; I did beat him unconscious and continued to beat on him while he was out, breaking both his arms, dislocating his knees, breaking a few ribs and, yeah, I spent almost five minutes kicking him in the crotch, all while he took my place being tied on the bed and, unlike him, I knew how to tie really good knots.  And then I left him there to die and made my way home.  I realized, during the walk home, that I wasn’t really mad with him:  I was mad with myself and took it out on him and, no, the thought that he was tied to that bed and could die didn’t bother me one bit.

Funny thing about this.  A lot of years later, I saw that he didn’t die that day; the guy actually walked up to me and asked me for a light for his cigarette.  Of course I recognized him but he didn’t recognize me right away.  He lit his smoke, looked up at me to thank me… and froze like a statue and I started smiling and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a nice smile.  He said, “Do I know you?”  I said, “Yeah, you do; how’s your knees?”  Realization dawned on him – I could see it in his face and get this:  He passed out right on the spot.  I laughed, shook my head, and went on about my business.  I felt no animosity because I had processed the rape and had put it all into perspective so seeing him again didn’t make me want to finish the job I thought I had started.

I just laughed… and it felt good to laugh.  I guessed that someone must have gone to check on him for some reason and found him in some pretty bad shape because I knew, thanks to my Boy Scout instructions, that he wasn’t going to untie those knots himself.  It happened, I’m still pissed with myself about it, and life goes on.

“Does your woman know?”

She sure does – she thinks it’s hotter and sexier than all get out.  More than that, she understands my sexuality so I consider myself very blessed to be in a relationship with her.

“She ever see you do it?”

Yes, she has.

“Aren’t you afraid of catching something?”

Of course I am – who wouldn’t be?  I’ve been fortunate not to have caught anything in all the years I’ve been having sex with people.

“Does it make you feel like a woman?”

Nope.  I understand that cocksucking was always seen as a woman’s thing to do but I know there’s nothing “girly” about me except maybe my rather long eye-lashes; when I’m sucking dick, I feel very masculine.  Even when I was into being fucked, okay, a couple of times, I felt a little girly for some reason but that’s two times out of all the times I’ve ever been fucked – and I was fucked a lot.

“Aren’t you afraid that homophobes are gonna fuck with you?”

Not really and given my temperament and ability to defend myself and to fatal effect if necessary, no, I don’t worry about it.  I still have to be careful, of course, because you just can’t predict what someone else is going to do if they feel their sensibilities have been insulted in this area.

“How many partners have you had?”

Damned if I know; I tried to remember and count them all, both men and women, and I just gave up trying.  I know some adults who have had five or less sexual partners in their lives… and I had at least that many that first week of my bisexual awakening.  Thinking about it now, wow, that’s some scary shit; the adult version of myself can easily pick out where shit could have gone wrong and just how much trouble I could have gotten myself in, right along with almost all of my friends.  Unlike a few people I happen to know, I don’t draw a line between the shit I did as a kid and what I’ve done as an adult; that would be like admitting that the kid I was didn’t know what he was doing and that would be a lie to end all lies.  I didn’t know then what I know now but, oh, yeah, I knew what the deal was and it’s all one thing and not something I think has to be divided into two parts because I didn’t change anything I was doing until I was an adult and decided that sucking dick was more satisfying that anal sex (with a couple of exceptions but we ain’t talking about them).

I’ve been asked these questions and many more over the years and when someone asks how I got started doing this, a few people have gotten upset because they felt that I got abused when I got introduced to dick.  And, legally, they’re right although, admittedly, I never bothered to see what child abuse laws were in effect back then and, frankly, I don’t want to know because I had a lot of years to think about that first moment and to ask myself, “Did you feel like you were being abused?”  And the answer I came up with was, “No, not one bit.”  I usually don’t get into debating rightness or wrongness in this because one of the other things I learned is that these things have always happened, they are happening now somewhere in the world, and it will continue to happen – and I learned to accept this and to not let any negativity fuck with my head – and I’ve seen it fuck with guys’ heads like you probably wouldn’t believe.

I’ve been asked that if my introduction never happened, would I still be bisexual?  The honest answer is that I don’t know… but I’ve thought about this quite a few times.  Like I said earlier, maybe I find out about the pleasures of having sex with men somewhere down the road… or maybe I never do outside of hearing about it.  I didn’t have the luxury of feeling bisexual and then doing something about it and while it probably went a long way to revving up my hormones more than just having sex with girls, I maintain that my damned curious nature was probably more ‘at fault’ for me diving into sex with men, sucking cock, swallowing sperm and, yeah, feeling it running out of my ass as well as being sucked and doing some ass-fucking just as a matter of course.

I’ve had a few discussions with people about nurturing versus nature and while I tend to lean more toward the nature side of the discussion, I learned that environment plays into things; that better explains why me and my horny crew spent every available moment having sex with each other but guys two blocks away were, for lack of a better word, clueless.  I don’t really discount the nurturing side of the discussion because I know that we were are warned and even threatened to not only not have sex but never to have sex with other boys… but that’s pretty much like telling us to go ahead and do it; those of you who are parents are well aware of how this works.  It’s not to say that all the guys in the ‘hood would do it – parental fear is a great motivator when it comes to making a kid toe the line as you commanded.  And, really, if you ‘disregard’ the commands about this, you get to learn a whole lot of shit.

How can I do this shit?  Easy… I just do it because I like to do it and because at the end of the day, it’s sex and I love having sex.

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Posted by on 20 August 2014 in Life, Living and Loving


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