Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: Gaining a Certain Understanding

17 Apr

Growing up with bisexuality and taking to it like a fish to water was just too much fun and terribly exciting because, first, there was having sex (and because I’d been told in no uncertain terms not to go there) and then, wow, who knew that you could have sex with another guy and it’d be so much fun? Forget all that stuff about what could happen if ya got caught doing it like that even though the punishments promised were very dire with lots of pain being involved. And while there were a lot of us who had discovered this aspect of sex and were up to it to our eyeballs – and very much aware of the consequences – it was deemed to be well worth the risks to be able to have sex with each other and, of course, any girl who’d want to.

While I – and my very horny peers – were doing lots of on the job training in this, there were aspects of it that we were either unaware of or just wasn’t paying any attention to and, depending on who you happened to be talking to – and doing the nasty with – the awareness of what I’m going to be mentioning in a moment was there and, at least, for myself, hadn’t hit home until one really hot summer day, one of the fellas and I went off to spend that hot and steamy day in the relative coolness of one of our many hideouts and doing it to each other as many times as we could, not just because we were… preternaturally horny but also because there wasn’t anything else to do that didn’t call for being outside in all that oppressive heat.

We’re into it and having the time of our, well, day; there came this moment when I was lying on my stomach, he’s on top of me and the feel of his dick sliding in and out of me was dreamy and delicious and I definitely remember lying there and thinking that, for one, this just felt so damned good and, for the other, I hope no one shows up to catch us and make all of this go away – and that meant anyone we would have preferred to not catch us. He’s humping away and I’m just loving it and my… enjoyment got broken up a bit when he started saying, “I’m gonna do it! I’m gonna do it!” which I knew meant he was getting close to shooting his stuff in me and I also definitely remember thinking, “Yeah… this is gonna feel so good!”

In the exact moment he started shooting his jizz in me (that was the ‘new’ word of the times), a thought slammed into my head like someone had punched me in the head and I heard this voice in my head say, “He’s trying to get me pregnant!” I don’t know where that thought came from or why it picked that moment to just fuck up my whole groove but I went from being quite happy and pleased to not being happy at all. Well, it wasn’t that I was actually unhappy that my friend’s dick was pumping away in me but that thought was sobering and had, I realized later, taken me right out of my happy place because, in that moment, I had gained a certain understanding:

I was now very much aware of what it was like to be a girl and by that I mean I understood what I’d been putting girls through when having sex with them. It was a very disturbing feeling and, again, a very sobering one. It didn’t stop me from continuing to have sex with him but I wasn’t “all there” any longer and so distracted and disturbed that I couldn’t wait until we were finally finished so I could be by myself to seriously think about this very disturbing revelation and even as we went about wearing each other out, my mind was busy putting shit together, like putting the last few pieces of puzzle in place to reveal a completed picture… and one that I wasn’t sure I liked all that much.

Once I was alone and could think, wow, there were a couple of moments where I just wanted to throw up to realize that, I was a boy but when doing it with another boy, I was also a “girl” in that sense. We all knew that girls were the only ones who were supposed to suck dick and get screwed and we all knew that was a lie because guys could do the same thing but now the similarities had chosen that moment to come home to roost in my mind and in a very disturbing way. Before this fucked up my whole day, I thought about how us guys would sit around and “talk shit” about the girls who were afraid to have sex and how… “silly” some of them would act when we were allowed to screw them. We knew about the dreaded baby-making stuff and how it scared the shit out of the girls and while we were quite ignorant about what had to take place in order for a girl to get “in trouble” – the euphemism for getting pregnant – what we knew was that the way babies were made was when a guy shot his stuff into a girl…

And I’d just got finished spending quite a bit of time with a guy who was shooting his stuff in me… and just like either of us would do with a girl. Okay, I knew that boys couldn’t get “in trouble” like girls could but it was, in today’s terms, being inseminated that put 2+2 together in my head and it equaled, “Oh, shit!” I now had a very acute awareness of why girls acted the way they did; I understood why some liked having sex… and I now had the beginning of understanding why they didn’t. It was like a dam bursting inside of my awareness and I was sitting under a tree and recalling every moment where I’d done it with a guy and it wasn’t a whole lot of fun and I knew why a lot of girls would often tell us that we were assholes and otherwise not nice guys and especially when our dicks got hard and we wanted to have sex with them and including saying and doing anything we could manage in order to get them naked and get around to shooting jizz in them.

I sat under that tree with all of this messing with my head… and threw up. If I hadn’t had any real sense of respect and understanding of girls, I did now and, going forward from that day, every little thing that I knew girls didn’t like about us was being seen in some very stark clarity. It changed my behavior toward girls but much more than that, I’d had yet another major wakeup call about the true nature of sex and finding out why a lot of adults would be heard to say that sex was dirty and nasty… and it wasn’t just because one could get all sweaty and funky having it. I thought about all the razzing and teasing we’d subject guys who were gay to – and often in a good-natured, just yanking their chain way – but because of that moment, my gay friends now made a whole lot of sense and more so when a couple of them really did act like girls when it came to us wanting to do it to them and sometimes it wasn’t with the… eagerness they’d often display and I really understood why there were some guys they wouldn’t hesitate to have sex with… and a lot of guys they wouldn’t and even if the guy wanting to do it to them would wind up beating them up for refusing them…

And especially those guys who really did treat other guys like they – we – were girls… and some of that treatment wasn’t what I’d call, then or now, nice or pretty. Girls, again, would loudly tell us that we were assholes… and I found myself not only agreeing but understanding why we were assholes… and I didn’t like that one bit. Um, no – none of it stopped me from having sex with guys but I now had a very different point of view about it and started looking at having sex with guys in similar ways that girls had been looking at it all along. It was the moment that got me into a development mode of thinking and setting the stage for me to be a lot more discerning about who got to get me naked and have their way with me or who’d I want to do the same thing to. The sex was what it was but it was the other aspects that I’d gotten awakened to; there were guys who I’d not hesitate to have sex with and there were guys who, before my wakeup call, I wouldn’t say no to… but now I was doing just that because I could see my male peers in similar ways that girls saw us… and, again, a lot of it wasn’t what I’d call nice.

I knew what it felt like to have sex and not “cared about” beyond a guy busting a nut in my mouth or my ass; I understood why a lot of girls would say that after sex, they felt used and so dirty that no amount of soap and water would get them clean. I knew what it felt like to be lied to and what it was like to be “sweet talked” and even pressured into having sex. We would gossip and wonder why some girls would just lie there and let us screw them and like they weren’t really interested in doing it in the first place and even when they said they did… and I understood why because there were times when I’d realize that when the sex wasn’t fun, it was “better” to just let him finish rather than to start a fight although, um, yeah, being a guy and when some other guy wasn’t making the sex as fun as he “promised,” I had no problem telling him to stop and if he didn’t, make him stop and there would be pain and some blood involved.

My now-developing philosophy about having sex with guys now included knowing what it was like to be “the girl” in this situation. It wasn’t that it was always bad to “be the girl” but, yeah, sometimes it was those moments where I’d find myself wondering why I thought it would be a good idea to have sex with this guy – then really kicking my own ass to realize that my gut instincts had been telling me not to… and I hadn’t listened to what my instincts were telling me. I saw that I was developing an… attitude about it; I didn’t like it when I’d be sucking some guy’s dick and he’d say, “Yeah, bitch, suck my dick like a good little girl!” or something along those lines because, goddamn it, I’m not a girl… but wasn’t I having sex like I was, in fact, a girl?

Now, the good part about this is that I was able to put things into perspective when it came to having sex with guys and it took me almost two years of thinking and observing before I fully embraced having sex with guys but now with a “girl-like” kind of mindset about it and, importantly, learning how to say no and making it stick as well as not buying into the usual bullshit guys would throw around just so they could get their rocks off and toss me aside like, well, like a used condom. I also had a more eye-opening understanding about guys and including myself and, as I said earlier, it changed the way I behaved towards girls because I understood what it was like to be subjected to a guy’s lust and how a guy could be a nice guy and all that… until his dick got hard and wanted to use it on me. Okay, yeah – when it came to getting into a girl’s panties, you had to play “the game” and convince them that, you know, if you let me do it to you, you’re not going to regret it… and knowing why they would. It made me “sick” to understand and realized that guys would do and say anything to be able to fuck someone and that I wasn’t really any better than they were except the only thing I had going for me was that I knew – and better than most guys – what it was like to be the girl in this situation.

Later in life, I’d quip that us guys spend nine months inside a woman’s body before we’re born… and spend the rest of our lives trying to get back inside a woman’s body. I not only learned about being male, I had a keen understanding about what sex was really about and that no matter how one went about it, it always came down to the pleasures of having sex from busting a nut to females chasing the often elusive toe-curling orgasm. And while polite and moral society has some issues about what would be called gay sex, I learned that we’re all pre-programmed to want to have sex and, of course, guys more than gals and that there were no real boundaries where who to have sex with was concerned; girls were the preferred target and object… but guys could be as well.

And all of this landed on me before I got anywhere near being 16. It wasn’t just about what; it was also very much about who and not whether someone was male or female or even if they were gay. It was now very much about the kind of person they were and what was going on inside their head about being male and wanting – needing – to have sex with other males. Today, I will tell a newbie in a flat, skinny second that if they don’t learn anything about having sex with other guys, they will most certainly find out what it’s like to be “the girl” in these things… and some of that isn’t pretty at all because some of us really are total and uncaring assholes when our dicks get hard.

At the hands or, really, the dicks of other men, I was learning that it wasn’t a matter of how big their dick was or how good they were having sex; it was whether or not they were… considerate. Appreciative. Not so much that being into thing that bi guys today insist has to be a mandatory consideration. Having all of this… awareness lent itself to the most important thing in my list of three things anyone has to satisfy in order for us to have sex: Do not be my idea of an asshole or cunt. The good and bad thing was that I had a chance early in my life to be able to know what that idea would be because, as many women have learned, there is not too much worst than having sex with someone who is blatantly not trying to make it good for you. There is nothing worst than sucking a guy’s dick or having him pounding away inside of you and knowing that all he’s really thinking about is busting a nut in you and not so much about how his behavior in this isn’t making the sex fun at all. And I knew that I had to be better than those guys. Okay, again, yeah, I had to play the game just like everyone has to – and the game really does suck but it is what it is. While I knew I couldn’t change anyone else, I knew I could change myself and not be that asshole that had to be avoided at all costs to one’s physical and, importantly, mental well-being… but with the understanding that, yeah, I was going to choose poorly and now it was about being able to take the good with the bad but not in a regretful kind of way that would get me to not like having sex so much… and then totally and completely understanding and accepting that, yeah, um, I really and seriously love having sex.

Gaining that certain understanding that fateful day really did fuck with me because feeling my friend cumming in me brought a lot of shit together and in a clarity that disturbed me greatly until I could wrap my head around it. While a lot of people were losing their minds over same-sex stuff, I understood it; I understood what was driving it and that, when you strip away the morality and social angst, it’s really and truly just sex and that it’s actually perfectly normal for us – humans – to want to have sex and the sex of the person, eh, not really all that important in that sense because the only thing a guy couldn’t do to me that can be done with a woman was to get me pregnant. The rest of it? Oral sex and being screwed? Interchangeable with obvious anatomical differences. I am, most certainly and definitely, male and I do not have a boi or man pussy… but I can and have been fucked and inseminated and as I’ve fucked and inseminated a lot of women. I can and have sucked a lot of dicks and swallowed an unimaginable amount of sperm… and just like some women can and have and, yep, I like it just as much as a lot of women do.

It’s not what you do, though: It’s who you do it with. The person. Where their head is about a great many things including having sex; are you one of those people who have little or no consideration or even compassion of what it takes to make the decision to have sex and, shit, think you have some kind of divine right to my body… or are you someone who has an appreciation for what it takes to be male… but wanting to experience sex in the way it can be done between two guys? That… landmark moment in my life was responsible for how I react today about the “hearts, not parts” gang and the flaw in their point of view because sex is always about the parts and, most importantly, it’s never been a case or situation where hearts – the person asking to have sex with you – ever goes unconsidered or ignored, not like it’s assumed to be and I do not know anyone who doesn’t, at the very least, ask themselves, “Do I really wanna have sex with this person?” and based upon what kind of person they’re gonna be if the clothes comes off and sex is being performed. I understand why we really do put the cart before the horse in that sense and why we will think about what might happen before anything actually does…

And all because, one day, a friend of mind was fucking me and making it feel oh, so wonderful. I knew he was going to cum in me… and I wanted and needed him to and that stray thought of, “He’s trying to get me pregnant!” not only fucked that nice moment up but changed the way I look at sex… forever. I remember sitting under that tree that day and that, um, sitting down was, let’s say, interesting because my butt was sore and I still had his stuff making things squishy back there. My mind had gotten so fucked up behind this that I not only and eventually threw up once, I threw up three times. My mind, which that day became the asshole that lives inside my head, was quick to point out that I was having a grand time “trying to get him pregnant,” too. And then, as I got off my, um, well-used ass and headed home, I had to decide whether it was really that bad of a thing to be doing since, obviously, before that thought manifested itself and when it did, I really didn’t think or have any real idea of the true implications of having sex with other guys… but now I did and I sure as hell knew what it was like to be the girl in that situation and, for me, completed the circle and cycle of things. I could appreciate what it took for a girl to say yes to me when I asked if I could do it to her; I understood the level of trust involved and, yeah, how common sense could get totally overridden because one’s hormones demand and insist that sex be had and even how peer pressure was involved; hell, even I knew I’d do it with a guy because I didn’t ever want to be singled out as being a chicken about it or, yeah, acting like a girl about it… but now I knew why girls acted the way they did and because of something that could happen to them but could never happen to me… but, yeah, I actually liked having a guy on top of me and fucking his dick in and out of me until he shot his load into me. Wasn’t going to get me pregnant – and there was always that running joke about guys having “jelly babies” – and it did feel good… but not so much when the true meaning of having sex lands on you like a few hundred thousand tons of bricks and like it did to me that day.

It’s… embarrassing to have had that thought pop into my head when it did. Today, I can and do laugh about it because I didn’t know then what I know now but when it happened, it wasn’t even funny but I’m actually glad it did because I gained that certain understanding while at a young age and, to my credit, had the brain power to be able to come to terms about it and it didn’t put much of a damper on my need and desire to have sex… even with a guy who may or may not prove himself to be the asshole I’d rather not be bothered with and then being able to sniff them out before the fact. That understanding says that I know what it’s like to be the girl and to be treated like one even though, duh, I’m not female, well, physically or even mentally but, yep, I can and do have sex like I am. I suck dick and love doing it and when I’m in the mood to, I get fucked and get nuts busted in my butt… because, implications aside, it feels good to have sex and whether it’s with a guy or a gal and what makes it all better isn’t how good they are at it or the other things we obsess over:

It’s what kind of person they are; it’s who they are that, at the end of the day, matters the most but, yep, so does that parts thing that folks today insist has no real importance and shouldn’t have. They’re wrong about that and I even know why they’re wrong about it… and all because I had a thought, when my friend was shooting his sperm into me, that he was trying to get me pregnant because that’s what his body is designed to do even if I’m not female… and where having sex is concerned, none of that really matters as much as we continue to insist that it does and should. I understood why some girls like other girls instead of boys and if for no other reason than they could have sex with another girl… and not worry about getting pregnant. Lots of emotional stuff at work in any of this, too, and it’s clear to me why there’s more emphasis on this aspect than the fact that any dick can be sucked, any pussy can be eaten, and the human body has… holes that an erect penis can be inserted and sperm delivered absent condoms and other preventative measures. And I do know what it’s like to be “the girl” in this and I’m okay with it…

But that one day, so many decades ago, I wasn’t all that okay about it because I recognized what was in play and that my dear friend was, without even knowing or realizing it, was having sex with me like I was a girl. It really and finally exposed the lie that men are only supposed to have sex – and inseminate – women since we can get dicks hard and make them soft again just like any woman can – we’re just not gonna get knocked up behind it.

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Posted by on 17 April 2021 in Today's Bisexual Thoughts


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