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Today’s Bisexual Thoughts:  One More of Those Interesting Conversations

19 Jan

I had just unloaded some spunk into his mouth, reveling in all the heady feelings and even feeling a little giddy knowing that his own semen was still being broken down by my gastric juices; it was a good moment, a needed moment and once I was able to have more coherent thoughts, I was debating on whether or not I wanted to give us both a half hour or so and start things all over again when he looked at me and said, “I don’t get you at all.”

Speaking was still a few moments away for me so I kinda looked at him and blinked as if to say, “What do you mean?”

“You’re married and if you weren’t lying, you have two other women you’re having sex with,” he began, “But you didn’t waste much time agreeing to meet with me so we could do this.”

“And?” I managed to say, my throat still dry and scratchy.

“And I don’t get it,” he said, idly cupping my balls.  “If you’re getting all that pussy, why do you need to do this?”

“Because I like doing this,” I said, a little uncertain about what he was really asking me.  “I’ve grown up having sex with guys and gals so…”

“But you don’t need to do this,” he said.  “Don’t you feel like you’re being greedy?”

Oh, okay, I’m starting to see what he’s getting at, that wall that divides bi guys and gay guys that, by all rights, has no business existing in the first place.  Before I responded, I took a quick moment to pat myself on the back because, years before, I would have been greatly insulted but now I’m just amused.

“Call it whatever you will,” I said, reaching down and giving one of his nipples a light pinch, “But I like sex; to me, there’s no such animal as too much sex and, really, when you’re bisexual like I am, what’s the point in not enjoying all the sex you can?  Some might say I’m greedy but I say that I don’t see a damned thing wrong with getting all I can get.”

“Besides,” I continued while pinching his other nipple, “I didn’t hear you complaining a little while ago, did I?”

He blushed and shivered in response to my words and my touch.  “No, um, I had no complaints at all; you’re very good at this, better than I had first thought.”

“Thank you,” I said, meaning the words.  “I know some guys who will do this because they can’t get a woman to go to bed with them – but I’m not one of those guys; I will do what we just did because I want to, might even say I need to but, for me, again, what’s the point in being bisexual if you’re not gonna be bisexual?  This isn’t a ‘measure of last resort’ for me; I love sucking dick – I always have loved it – so why pass on chances to do it when I don’t have to?”

“Good point, but if you love it so much, why not just settle down with a guy?”

“Because I love pussy, too,” I said, lightly touching his nipple and feeling it harden in response.  “I know, that might be a strange concept for some gay men who have never had any – and not that there’s anything wrong with that, mind you – but it is what it is for me; I like both so why not get as much as I can and while I still can?  Besides, the last time I looked, women don’t have cocks.”

“Ladyboys do,” he said and I had to smile because, yup, I walked right into that one.

“Yep, they do, but I’m not of a mind to debate whether they’re really women just because they have tits,” I said affably.  “I’m not sure what goes on inside their head but, literally, a ladyboy is a guy with tits and nice hair; I apologize if I sound insulting but in this, I’m really old school about some things.”

“I’m not insulted,” he said.  “You bisexual dudes just confuse me, that’s all.”

“Why?  Because we’d rather not pick a side?” I asked.

“Well, yeah, I guess,” he said with a shrug.  “I’ve never been with a woman and I wouldn’t want to.”

“I can understand that; you can’t imagine what that could be like and you’ve probably heard enough horror stories to never want to find out – but I couldn’t see myself being limited to having sex with just a guy, either.  Why we are the way we are isn’t all that confusing if you don’t pay attention to the dumb shit; we like getting down with both and I can’t explain it any better than that.”

“It’s a waste,” he said – and he actually pouted as he stared at my navel.  “You could make a lot of men very happy.”

“And I have done just that,” I said, giving him  a pointed, lecherous look.  “I like sex and I’m obviously not picky about it so, um, are we gonna do this again or are we done?”

I did want to do it again but I just watched him thinking and could almost guess what was going on behind his brown eyes.  Guys who went both ways were an aberration to him and one that didn’t make a lot of sense and because he had conditioned himself to not make any sense of it; that he had  never had a sexual encounter with a woman didn’t help, either.  I understood it; if I had a dollar for every time I had this conversation with straight folks, I’d be kinda well-off.

He was battling with himself, his lust warring with his sensibilities; all the bullshit he’s ever heard about flighty bisexual men coming in conflict with the facts of the matter.  Not only had we sucked each other off once already but I could feel my body responding to being close to him and my eyes saw the flush of his skin and an increase in his body temperature, things that told me that he was getting aroused again.  His body wanted round two but his mind was fucking with him, maybe even making him feel bad about “slumming” and having sex with a guy who really wasn’t as gay as he was.

“Maybe we shouldn’t,” he said.

“Okay,” I said – and I just waited to see which part of him would wind up being the victor in his internal war with himself; I always found it interesting when a guy’s words say one thing but his body is saying something very different. If his mind was winning the battle he would have moved from where he rested between my legs; he would have already decided that his sensibilities meant more in this moment than the lust he was feeling.  I’d already made up my own mind; if he wanted to go again, fine but if he didn’t, okay, I’d already had him so I’d lose nothing at all.

“God damn you,” he said as he lowered his mouth onto me.

“He just might,” I said, then added, “Get that dick up here so I can have it…”

We licked and sucked each other, not really rushing but not really taking our own sweet time.  I was once again in heaven with his renewed erection in my mouth even as I shivered at the feel of his mouth on me.  Still, in that part of my mind that’s unaffected by such things, I really did understand his dilemma and how my duality didn’t make sense to him; I even understood that he could be thinking that he’d made a huge mistake when he said he wanted to blow me, just as I understood that he knew that he hadn’t made a mistake any more than I did; his cock tasted and felt good, his sperm rich and tasty and, yeah, he was no slouch when it came to sucking dick either.

It’s not really about why one chooses to do this; it’s about being able to do it, to be in that moment that, in truth, one wants to be in.  It’s the difference between not having choices and having them and understanding that, sometimes, any port in a storm will do quite nicely and even if that port is a “greedy,” pussy-loving bisexual guy.  The only real difference between us was that after we were done with each other, I’d go home and, at some point, indulge myself in the pleasures only a woman can bring to the table; for me, it was as natural and as automatic as breathing because it’s sex, something to be enjoyed as much as possible and in anyway that’s possible and without putting a lot of roadblocks in the way.

We eventually finished each other off and just like the first time, it was glorious and damned satisfying – well, it was for me; I wasn’t sure about him because as we gathered up our clothing to get dressed, I could feel the battle cranking up within him again, could sense that he was feeling some kind of way about trading blow jobs with a guy who was – but wasn’t – gay like he was.  As I made to leave, he asked if he could call me again sometime and I said he could, thinking that it would be interesting to see if he would call me for more of the same.

And he did call me a week later and he actually gave me a piece of his mind, too!  He said, “I don’t like knowing that you’ve had that dick inside of pussy or that some woman has been sucking it – but maybe I’m perverted because I know where your cock has been since I last had it and I find it exciting.”

Indeed…

 
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Posted by on 19 January 2016 in Today's Bisexual Thoughts

 

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