Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: Screwing the Pooch

24 May

There was this one gay man, who I’ve talked a little about in the past.  I met him on “that site” and despite him being effeminate, I found him interesting enough to meet with him for an oral sex session… and, admittedly, it was pretty damned good.  It was so good that when he contacted me about a week later, I agreed to get with him again for more of the same… and it was even better than it was the first time; I worked him over pretty good including being able to get three fingers in his ass and giving his prostate a massage in lieu of fucking him, something he kept demanding of me but, nah, I wasn’t trying to hear that.  I was particularly horny for some dick that day and I wasn’t satisfied with merely sucking him off once so when he came in my mouth (he was delicious), I didn’t stop sucking him – I kept on sucking him gently (and with a couple of judiciously applied fingers up his ass) until he got hard again.

He was trying to get away from me, begging me to stop so he could suck me off but because I wanted that dick so much and something about the way I was “abusing” him was also a turn on, I ignored his pleas and kept right on with what I was doing.  He writhed, wiggled, squirmed, and did his best to dislodge me but he didn’t know he was being immobilized by a judo black belt who knows how to keep someone down and with little effort.  When he came again, I had him in tears – whether he was upset or just deliriously happy wasn’t really a concern I had… and I wasn’t bothered by the fact that I wasn’t concerned; there was just something about him that brought out the darker side of my lust, that and I seriously liked his cock – it was a rather nice, fat, six inches or so and topped with a large knob.

I was now ready to “submit”to his excellent cock sucking skills and indicated my readiness by grabbing him by his hair and pretty much shoving his face into my crotch, burying my dick completely into his mouth before he could complain about having his hair roughly pulled.  Ah, man… this guy could really suck dick and, as I learned this time, was an excellent rimmer as well.  At first, I locked my legs around his head in a figure-four so he couldn’t go anywhere as he sucked me; I could feel his whole body shuddering and trembling and, again, I didn’t know if it was because he was upset – I was uncharacteristically man-handling him and there was a part of me that was shocked that I was being so rough and domineering.   That same part of me suggested that I cut him some slack and I kinda tentatively agreed – if he really was in some kind of distress, I’d stop… but until he indicated such a situation, I wasn’t cutting him any slack at all.

I released his head from the figure-four so he could suck my balls, which is when I found out that he loved to eat ass and, wow, if I didn’t understand why some guys loved this so much, I understood it in that moment!  I even let him get a finger in me so he could do the prostate thing, just as I had done to him but despite everything he was doing, I couldn’t cum and I very much wanted to.  He’s between my legs and whimpering as I, again being a little out of character, fucked his mouth as hard and as deep as I could; hearing him whimpering just added something extra to the mix and when I came, it was toe-curling.  So, yeah, when he let my softening cock fall from his mouth, I subdued him again and went after his new erection a third time, taking a lot of obscene pleasure know that he was trying to get away from me and just utterly failing.  When he came again,  he was calling me all kinds of black bastards, motherfuckers, and other such epithets and even though I was busy drinking down his cum, I was inwardly laughing.

It was the best sex I’d had with a man in quite some time.  I was now feeling a little bad for the way I’d treated him and was more than ready to apologize to him… but the look on his face told me that as far as he was concerned, I didn’t do anything to him that required an apology – and he said so… once he got his act back together long enough to speak… and then he told me that he thought he was falling in love with me.  Well, shit, fart, piss, fuck, and damn!  His announcement shocked me but I said something polite in response to his words – I think thanked him or something like that (and the fact I don’t remember what I said indicates how shocked I was).  We made some small talk about how we made each other feel and I eventually got dressed and went home.

He started calling me almost every other day, professing his love for me and doing his level best to convince me to leave my wife and move in with him; he not only offered to pay for  the divorce, he offered to pay any alimony as well and made it clear that if I would accept him, I’d never want for anything… and I just wasn’t trying to hear it.  I liked the sex we’d been having and, I’ll say obviously, I thought well enough about him to want to have sex with him… but to leave my wife to be in a relationship with him?  I just didn’t feel that way about him and I remember my first and last relationship with an effeminate gay man and how some aspects bothered me… and this guy was displaying a lot of those same troublesome aspects.  I honestly told him that I was content to be married as well as being in the poly relationship with my wife and my other two “wives” and told him – at the risk of really hurting his feelings – that I just didn’t feel the same way about him so, thank you, but I have to say no.

He was beyond pissed and even though I understood why he was, no, it didn’t make me feel good to have to rebuff him; it reminded me of the “occupational hazard” of this happening and how the power of  sex can bring more to the table than what someone might want.  I didn’t hear from him for a couple of weeks – again, it was understandable – but he eventually called me to apologize for being so overly emotional and insistent, explaining to me that the way we’d made love that last time just made him feel that way but he’d had time to think about things and he felt better about the situation… and so much that he wanted to get at my dick again, if I didn’t mind.  I was very leery about being naked with him again and told him so… but I believed him when he promised to behave himself and went and got some of his cock again.  That “session” was a lot milder than the last one – still good oral sex but, eh, not so intense.  Afterward, we agreed to stay in touch and he allowed that at the least, we could call on each other for sex and be friends – and I was good with that.

The next day, I was in the local supermarket picking up a few things; I stopped at the deli counter to get some pepper jack cheese… and there he was, behind the counter and just working away!  Now, he had told me that he worked at a supermarket – but I didn’t know he worked at the market I did all of my shopping in!  He hadn’t seen me yet and I was kinda floored – how many times had I been in this store and didn’t remember seeing him before now?  I was still pondering this when I heard him ask, “May I help you, sir?”

I blinked to clear my thoughts and looked at him and expected to see a sly smile on his face… but he was acting as if he had no idea who I was.  I was a little miffed at first but caught myself:  Of course he couldn’t act like he knew me like that because, duh, he’s working… but, damn, he could have at least acted like we’d seen each other before.  I wasn’t sure if my dismay had reached my face or not but I told him what I wanted while I was trying to figure out why I didn’t, at the very least, get a knowing kind of smile from him.  At first, I thought that maybe his co-workers didn’t know he was gay… but listening to him interacting with them told me that, yeah, they knew he was gay… so why was he acting like he didn’t know me?

As he handed me the cheese I wanted, he was all business-like and professional – he didn’t even try to give me a sly wink but, okay, I really didn’t have a reason to be bothered by his behavior while he was working even though I thought that if he were  to show up at my job – and that was unlikely – I’d at least act like I knew him, ya know?  As I made my way home, eh, I was still a little miffed; I was thinking that, oh, okay, you were acting like you knew me yesterday, weren’t you?  But that’s just a fucked up way for me to be thinking so I squashed it and by the time I pulled up in the driveway, I had forgotten the incident…

Until my cell rang and displayed his cell number.   He was all happy and bubbly and telling me how surprised he was to have seen me where he worked and before I could stop it, I said, “You didn’t act like you were glad to see me – you acted like you didn’t even know me.”  I could feel myself becoming more miffed as he tried to explain why he had acted the way he did; his co-workers did, indeed, know he was gay but he didn’t want to acknowledge me because he felt they would give him the business about having a Black lover… and, honestly, I wasn’t buying into that.  Sure, I know how some co-workers can just fuck with you about stuff; the people I worked closely with didn’t have a problem picking on me if and when they could but in this case, I just didn’t believe his excuse for acting like he didn’t know me at all – and despite whatever his co-workers might have picked on him about.

“A smile would have sufficed,” I said as I calmed myself; I mean, we had good sex together and I liked him as a person as well… but, yeah, I was surprised that I was getting pissy about this and I couldn’t fault him for wanting to do something that would cause his co-workers to tease him unmercifully.  “It just kinda fucks with me that you were acting so cold and distant – but it’s okay and I’ll even apologize for sounding like a little bitch about it.”  But somewhere deep inside me, things weren’t as cool and settled yet and I passed on his suggestion that I stop by after he got off from work so we could talk and, you betcha, have some more great oral sex with each other.

And that was the last time I heard from him.  At first, I didn’t think much of it but when I went shopping, I noticed that I wasn’t seeing him behind the deli counter – and, at first, I didn’t think much about that either – I could have been in the store on his day off or before/after his work shift.  A couple of months went by and I happened to be in the store again and, out of curiosity, asked a girl at the deli counter where the other guy who worked here was.

“Oh, he quit,” she said.  “I heard he got another job at a store somewhere in Pennsylvania.”

I thanked her and, well, okay, that would explain why I hadn’t seen or heard from him, wouldn’t it?  I did wonder if my rejection of his proposal and, later, my being miffed with him for acting like he didn’t know me, had anything to do with him disappearing – maybe it did, maybe it didn’t;  it was possible that he felt he had reason not to be anywhere I might be… but that sounded ridiculous and egotistical so I just let it – and him – go in my mind… and life went on.

From time to time, I’d think about him, not so much wondering where he vanished to, but about how much I enjoyed working him over and making him cum, hearing his pleas for mercy and his puny attempts to escape my clutches – and despite the fact that, physically, he was “fatter” and outweighed me by maybe 15 pounds.  His cock was just so suckable, the perfect size to gulp down all of his dick comfortably and his sperm was right up there with the best I’ve ever tasted.  I thought that had things continued on nicely, he was a guy I felt would have been “worthy” of breaking my no-anal sex “promise” for, not that he was interested in fucking me and I was strangely fine with that but, yeah, if things had gone on just a bit longer, I kinda knew that he’d beg me to fuck him at some point during my sucking him… and I’d give him what he wanted and not felt bad about it.

The thing that kinda continued to “irk” me was the last time I saw him… and how he acted toward me.  I didn’t expect him to react to my presence like the lovers we were… but I sure as hell didn’t expect such a cold, impersonal reaction from him.  I thought about this with emotional detachment and, really, there wasn’t anything for me to seriously be pissed out… but I was still curious as to why he behaved the way he did and more so when, the day before, his behavior was more than familiar, if you know what I mean.  At times I’d wonder if my rejection of his proposal made him change his mind about liking me at all…  or if knowing that I didn’t want to be with him like that fucked with him so much that he felt it was better to leave the state – but, of course, unless he told me why, all I could do was guess – he really could have gotten a better job.  So I did the sensible thing:  I didn’t read anything into his disappearance and, eventually, stopped letting his behavior that day “irk” me… and I say it like that because I really wasn’t pissed off… but I was curious about whether or not there was another reason for it other than the one he told me because there was no way I was gonna believe what he did say.

I realized that when he told me that he loved me, he screwed the pooch… then I screwed it by rejecting his proposal so instead of the whole situation being one of win/win, I guess it turned out that it was more of a lose/lose kind of thing.  It sounded fucked up to think that, hell,  yeah, I could have loads of fun having sex with him… but being in a relationship with him would have been a bad thing for me to do – and my relationship status (at the time) notwithstanding.  I liked him, knew I wasn’t in love with him and, over the long-term, I couldn’t honestly say that I would have learned to love him and, importantly, I wasn’t sure if I could have overridden that quirk in my personality that “makes” really effeminate gay men rub me the wrong way.  Thinking about that, well, even today, it doesn’t really make me feel good to know that he was good enough to have sex with… but not “good enough” to be in a relationship with… and the fact that he told me, at one point, that he was gonna make me forget about women and pussy and never want them again did, indeed, rub me the wrong way.

Still, I had to realize that sometimes, this is just how things work in this.  I realized that even if I had been single, I may not have taken him up on  his offer of a relationship because he’d go out of his way to “make me forget about pussy” and, well, I’m bisexual… and I’m bisexual because I love pussy and dick – it’s never an either/or kind of thing for me.  That he wanted to change me in this way just sit well with me and I eventually felt that if, in a relationship setting, he couldn’t accept my bisexuality, then being together like that just wouldn’t have worked; he would have resented the fact that I loved women and pussy and I would have resented him trying to change me and I even felt that being “forced” into a life devoid of the sexual diversity I needed would have made things even worse – I just couldn’t convert to being a gay man no matter how good the dick was or even for the sake of love…


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