A whole lot of years ago, I was visiting with a friend, just sitting and talking, drinking coffee when whatever we were talking about tapered off into a momentary silence that usually signals that a change of topic is in progress. I know I was sitting there digesting what we’d just finished talking about and was kinds staring off into the distance when I heard him say this:
“Why do I have an urge to suck your dick?”
My eyes locked onto him and snapped into sharp focus so fast they actually hurt for a moment as my brain asked, “Did he just say what I think he said?”
That part of my mind that is always on the job and paying attention to everything said, “Yep, he most certainly did – and next time, pay attention!”
I recovered in the space of a couple of heartbeats and replied, “I don’t know; what were you thinking?” Yeah, I know – you don’t answer a question with a question but it’s the only way to get the answer to why he came out of left field like that.
“I’m not sure; we were talking, you know, and the next thing I’m feeling is this urge to suck your dick – and I don’t know why or where it came from because I’m straight,” he said, shaking his head and staring at his feet.
Years before, I’d learned that sometimes something like this just happens and for no apparent reason and the reason guys who blurt out something like this are often very shocked and surprised because, I thought, it’s their subconscious making a rare appearance in their conscious thinking – that thing that happens when you say something and you have no idea why you said it. And it was happening now and I felt that I was bearing witness to another guy’s bisexuality emerging.
“How does it make you feel?” I asked. “And before you ask or think it, no, I’m not offended – but I am curious, of course.”
I saw him relax when I said that last part – that’s a good thing and something that works toward him being able to keep talking about this.
“It feels… wrong but it feels right at the same time,” he said as he kinda fussed with his fingers. “I mean, I know guys do that but until now, the thought never crossed my mind – how long have we known each other?”
“Five or six years,” I answered.
“So you know how I am, right?”
“Yeah, I do,” I said while nodding.
“So this is weird, right?” he asked, finally leaving his fingers alone and, at the least, looking in my direction if not looking me in the eye.
“Nah, not really,” I said. “It happens.” He kinda sat back and I knew what the next question was going to be just by the look on his face.
“This isn’t the first time someone has said this to you, is it?”
“It isn’t,” I said.
“What did you do?” he asked.
“What I’m doing right now – trying to find out what’s going on inside your head,” I said.
“No… I mean what did you do,” he said, emphasizing the word. “What happened?”
Now I have small slices of time to decide how to answer this question; do I answer or do I evade? It makes you appreciate the speed of thought in that, to me, it took a long time for me to come to a decision when, in reality, it only took a couple of seconds or less.
“We took our clothes off and sucked each other until we both came,” I said, now looking at him very closely and this is what I saw: His pupils instantly dilated and he leaned back in his seat and that small movement allowed me to see a bulge building in his pants. His face flushed, his lips parted and I could hear his breathing pick up quite a bit and all as his brain processed what I had said.
“No wonder you’re not offended,” he finally said.
I just shrugged… and waited to see what would be said next. When you bear witness to this emergence, you learn how to be patient and just watch it happen; you listen to the questions and questions that, after a while, you just learn to expect and anticipate and then you give whatever answers you deem… appropriate to the moment and, when possible, based upon what you know about the other guy. I knew he wasn’t “rabidly heterosexual” and by that I mean he wasn’t the kind of guy who’d strut around and being all “macho” about how much he loves pussy – you probably know a guy who’s like that.
“What should I do?” he asked, shifting around on his seat nervously.
“What do you want to do?” I asked.
“That’s not an answer!” he said.
“Probably not but the question is still valid; I can’t tell you what you should do – you have to decide on whether or not you really want to do what you just said – and I can’t speak to that,” I said.
“What do you want to do?” he asked – and I expected this one.
“Whatever you want to do,” I said.
“You’re not making this any better,” he griped.
“It never really is,” I said. “Okay… you want to suck my dick and now you know that I’m no stranger to this. Obviously, I’m not as opposed to it as you might be thinking because we’re still talking about it, right? So now, to be honest, it’s not about what I want to do – it’s about what you want to do.”
“I wanna do what I said I wanted to do,” he said – it’s interesting to see one’s resolve come into play.
“Fine – when do you want to do it?” I asked.
“Now would be good,” he said. “But I don’t understand something.”
“What’s that?” I asked as I watched him stand up and start undressing. His hands were shaking – his whole body was vibrating and he had this look on his face that said that he didn’t believe that he was getting ready to do this and it piled onto his disbelief that he even said what he did.
“Why you? Why do I want to do this to you?”
I kinda laughed and said, “I’ve been told that I just affect some people like that; I’ve never really figured this out – to me, it’s like I have a sign on me somewhere that tells guys that if they wanna do something like this, I’m the guy they should and can ask.”
By now we’re both naked and our arousal was pretty damned obvious but along came the next expected thing.
“I don’t know what to do,” he said, snow standing so close to me I could feel the heat radiating off his body.
“I usually tell guys to do what they like having done to them when a woman blows them; otherwise, just go with your feelings – they won’t steer you wrong.”
“What if I don’t do it right?” he asked – this is like the last question to be asked before the real moment of truth.
“Don’t worry about it – not everyone “does it right” the first time,” I said. “You’ll be fine.”
He looked into my eyes and I could see his excitement and fear; despite the room being nice and cool, he was sweating
“Will you let me know when you’re gonna cum?” he asked. “I don’t know if I can handle that.”
“Yes – it’s the polite thing to do,” I said.
“Do I have to let you know?”
“Nah – I’m used to it – duh.” I said, making him laugh.
We stood there for a very long moment before he said, “Come on…” I followed him to the bedroom and we both got onto the bed; he was quickly approaching the moment of truth, that point in time that would prove that he could do what he wanted to do. I’d seen guys freeze up, change their minds and, a few times, become physically ill… and messily so. So I knew the thing to do was to just wait and see; it’s one thing to think that you wanna suck a dick, something very different when it’s now very real.
In my mind and while I waited – and keep in mind that I’m talking seconds and not minutes – I ran through the probable reactions, knowing that any of them could appear at any time. He’s thinking as well and I pretty much know what’s going on in his head and it boils down to him saying he can’t do it…
Or he’s gonna say – to himself or even aloud, “Fuck it…”
He looked over at me, blinked, and I saw he had made up his mind. He said, “”Fuck it…” leaned over and took me into his mouth. I stayed as still as I could; this is the moment where he’d either get into it… or maybe throw up all over me. Very tentative licks and sucks turned into things what were more, confident; in that moment, he realized that what he was doing wasn’t going to “kill” him.
I shifted my position so I could get my mouth on him; I felt his body stiffen at the “strange” sensation and contact, then relax. I knew he was gonna be okay – for now, anyway because the next moment of truth would arrive when one of us had to cum.
Every now and then I’d ask him if he was okay and he’d nod; he stopped a couple of times so I could confirm that he was, in fact, doing it right and I did caution him about trying to do too much when he gagged trying to take a little more of me; it’s not unusual for a guy in his first time to mimic what’s being done to him.
I love this moment because it’s timeless; my internal clock is telling me that only two minutes have passed but it feels like it’s been much longer than that. Still, for me, it’s about going slow and being steady because this is a very vulnerable and fragile moment for a guy having his fist experience with this and while I’m enjoying what I’m doing to him, I’m also paying close attention to him, looking for any sign of distress.
I can feel the little tremors racing along his dick; he’s getting close to losing it and, to be honest, I’m not all that far behind him. I hear him moan, feel his body tense; his cock has gotten quite thicker and he lets go of me and, um, lets everyone who might hear him announce that he’s gonna cum.
I don’t change anything about what I’m doing and he cums… and, not unexpected, like he’d been saving it up for a while; it serves as a reminder of how intense a moment this can be for a guy and, yeah, it’ll make him unload like he’s never done before and, with him, I was kinda wondering if he was gonna stop any time soon, not that all that spunk was giving me any problems.
I suck him until I feel him getting soft and stop; I look at him as his mind and body are trying to adjust to it all and ask him if he’s okay – because I know that even when a guy busts a nut, he might not be okay.
He doesn’t say anything but tries to nod; he take a deep breath and goes back to sucking me and minutes later – but really seconds in that oddly timeless moment, I tell him, “I’m gonna cum…”
Another moment of truth; will he stop and release me and use his hand to finish or will he keep going? It’s hard to tell what a guy is going to do in this moment; he keeps going and I say it again and he just kinda moans something while trying to nod – he’s heard me and he’s already made up his mind about this moment. He instinctively moves to the head of my dick and his hand is gripping and pumping kinda hard and hard enough to make me wince before he shoves me over the edge and I cum.
Even caught up in the throes of my release, I’m watching him; I have no idea how much spunk I’m furiously pumping into his mouth but through the haze I can see him doing his best to swallow it and the look on his face is one of concentration. I know – or kinda know – what’s going in his head beside that sense of disbelief that he’s done this – he’s think about whether or not my sperm tastes bad and as bad as some say it does.
I’m spent, he’s spent and we’re both lying there trying to get our respective shit together; a check of my internal clock says from start to finish, this took all of ten minutes and a few seconds and not the couple of hours it felt like to me.
“Are you okay?” I asked once I remembered how to breathe and talk.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” he says. “That was really something!”
I just smile and wait for one of the things I usually hear guys say in this after-the-fact moment and he didn’t disappoint me: “I don’t know why I never did this before now!”
I laugh again and ask him, “When have you ever wanted to do this before now?”
“Good point,” he says with a laugh of his own. But this isn’t over yet because he’s going to want to talk about this – and I want him to. Some guys are quite… steady in whatever they’re going to say, some guys start speed-rapping – they can’t get the words out of their mouth fast enough and sometimes, um, they sound kinda crazy. He’s going to ask questions and it’s just a matter of what they might be.
“Why don’t I feel bad about this? he asked.
“Because you don’t – yet,” I said. “Later, when you’ve had some time to really think about this, you might feel really shitty about it – it happens and if it does, just call me and we’ll talk about it, okay? I don’t believe in leaving a guy hanging when I know he’s gonna feel crappy about it.”
“Okay, thanks… but can we do this again?” he asked.
“Sure – you only have to ask so when would you like to do this?” I asked – again, there’s not telling how a guy is going to answer this and I’ve learned to expect anything.
“Now would be good, if that’s okay with you?” he asked.
“Fine by me,” I said.
The second time went quite well if I may say so; it’s always amazing to see a guy’s confidence in this come to the forefront when he knows that he can, in fact, do this and more so when he hasn’t gotten any negative feed back about how the first time went; I’ve learned that even when a guy, say, winds up scraping me with his teeth, there’s a time and place to mention that and there’s a way it should be said. But, in a lot of situations I’ve been in just like this one, I know he’s likely to critique his own performance and it’s important, at least to me, to not let him kick his own ass about something he’s done for the first time in his life.
I spent the next few days talking to him about it all. My “job” was to listen and to look for signs of distress because while some guys freak out before or during the fact, some guys will freak out after the fact, too. It’s important, after bearing witness to a guy’s emergence, to answer his questions without any bullshit. By the way our conversations started, he was quite energized although he did tell me that I was right; after I’d left and he had some time to think about it, he felt guilty and crappy but, by the way he started talking, he’d gotten through that part.
“You know you could have called me if you had to,” I said.
“I started to but I wasn’t feeling that guilty,” he said. “How did you know I’d feel that way?”
“Not my first rodeo,” I had said. “You do this enough times and you learn how a guy might respond and react to having done something that, before he did it, he didn’t ever think about or think he could do.”
“You’ve done this a lot, huh?
“More than I’m willing to admit to, yes,” I said.
I bore witness to the emergence of his bisexuality and was convinced that, going forward, he was going to be okay. And, yeah, he confirmed that he was just fine and dandy because he asked when we could do it again.
And the question was anticipated – but if he hadn’t asked it, I wouldn’t have found it to be unusual, either.
Some guys emerge and it doesn’t go that well for them; they often get “pushed” into trying to perform beyond their ability to do so and as if they should just know how to suck a dick and, sadly, many more guys get left hanging with those bad feelings that usually show up and the guy who witnessed their emergence is nowhere to be found or not of a mind to be bothered with helping him adjust to this new thing in their sexual life.
It’s about as fucked up as anything can be and something I just do not believe in allowing to happen. Sure, if the guy doesn’t want to talk about it, isn’t ready to talk about it, or just can’t, I’m not going to try to make him talk about it – I’ll just let him know that if he wants to talk, just let me know.
Anything else is heinous and irresponsible.