Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: 02 June 23, 1320 hours

Exploring this new sex thing I’d been introduced to was exciting and more so when I learned that quite a few of my male friends had either found out about it or wanted to know about it. I’m remembering those early days and recalling how we’d make our pricks hard with our fingers or our mouth and… giggling like girls. Then being humped and, ah, that felt really nice and more so if a guy could get it between my cheeks – then one of us figured out how we could stick it in back there and, well, ouch, don’t stick it in that fast but that, too, felt wonderful and with or without giggling.

If it felt that good, it couldn’t have really been as bad as I was told. Once we all were onboard or chose not to do this (out of fear of all holy hell descending upon them), we were off and running with it; learning from and teaching each other the things we were learning on the whole. Having a favorite guy or two that you didn’t even have to ask him The Question because you knew that if you were with each other, doing it was a given – and depending on where we were and all that.

The guys you’d “just do it with” tended to ask if you wanted to and then there were the guys you may not have known – well or at all – who’d be eager to get you naked and, well, okay, I guess. I didn’t know about the other guys but if someone wasn’t one of my favorites, eh, I didn’t much mind or care if they didn’t want to do it or if they asked me… but one of my favorites? Heck yeah!

One day, I’m sitting on the wall outside of my apartment building and just… sitting there when I looked down the street and saw one my favorites coming; he saw me and waved and I waved back and I could tell by the smile on his face what we were going to be doing in a few minutes. No disappointment here and, again, asking wasn’t a requirement; he said “Let’s go!” and off we went to the closest hideout.

Clothes came off; dicks got sucked; cum was swallowed. Ah… so good… just so good. We’re resting to get ready for the next thing – screwing each other – and my favorite friend… didn’t seem like himself today but I didn’t pay much attention to that and having it make me ask him what was wrong. About, oh, five or ten minutes later, I sucked his dick until he got hard; he pulled out a baby food jar that contained some Vaseline that he swiped from home; we get greased up, he mounts me and I sigh because I “loved” the way his dick would slid into me and, man, he can do this to me all day!

He’s screwing me and covering me with his whole body and that’s what allowed to feel… something wet on my face; I kinda get my head turned to look at him and he’s crying and now I wanna know what’s wrong.

“This is the last time we can do this,” he says and on the verge of openly sobbing.

“Why?” I asked and having a feeling in my stomach that didn’t feel good.

“Because we gotta move,” he said.

I can’t recall what I was thinking to hear that but I know it made that feeling in my stomach worse. He screws me and cums in me; we switch places and as I’m screwing him, now he’s openly crying and talking about how he didn’t want to move away from me and the rest of our friends and I was getting all choked up because it seemed to me that every time I made a favorite friend like this guy, something always happened to separate us. Like, one of my favorite girls – and, I think, the “founding member” of the Hot in the Ass gang – loved doing it with me because, at first, I could shoot the baby-making stuff and she’d wanted to taste mine and to shoot it in her and, I wouldn’t “officially” say that we were in love but, looking back, it sure felt like it.

Then she died. We all had been wondering why we hadn’t seen her for a while but when her mother told us that she had died, it was because she’d gotten really sick and, well, she was in heaven now. Learning this hurt us all very hard and if nothing else, it made us cherish the friendships we still had but… things change; some of these sexually close friendships got ended due to “irreconcilable reasons;” some got broken up under parents invoking “bad influence” on someone and, yeah, they got broken when someone moved away.

This never felt good and since this was going to be our last time, it made the moment really special. This sad moment took place three weeks before I was due to head off for summer camp (again); my friend was gone a week after our last time together and, well, I had other friends to “console” me; I went to camp, kinda made myself have a good time – and being able to have sex with some of the guys in my cabin went a long way to ease the sadness I felt over losing a favorite friend and lover.

Then I get home from camp and find out that… we moved. I was pissed beyond being pissed! I hadn’t known anything about this and, worse, I’d been at camp for two weeks and my parents had more than enough time to write me and tell me about this; I’d get a letter from home and telling me what’s going on, asking how I’m doing, stuff like that but I would learn that my siblings were swore into silence about this event and… I was pissed. I let my parents know, on the way “home” that I wasn’t happy; I didn’t get to say goodbye to my friends, didn’t want to leave them – y’all know about this, right? – and even though they told me that I could always come back to the old neighborhood to see them, it… wasn’t the same and that was revealed when I first went back to where I grew up and it was good to see them again but I could tell that the bond I had with the fellas was irrevocably broken.

My father had said, “That’s just how life can be, Junior; you’ll get over it and make new friends.” He (and my mom) were right about that but handling the loss of the really close friends I grew up with – and explored sex with – was pretty devastating. One of the life lesson’s learned in junior high school was you could be some girl’s boyfriend in the morning… and she’d be someone else’s girlfriend by lunchtime. Dealing with a new form of pecking order that was a great departure from elementary school’s social atmosphere and while I didn’t have that much of a problem making new friends, it was difficult to make friends with guys who… wanted to have sex with me and who would be a favorite, you know, someone I could really relate to and having sex was a part of things.

I wouldn’t find such a guy until I met my boyfriend and in my early 20’s. By this time, I’d gotten thoroughly indoctrinated in the fact that nothing is forever. Nothing. Sure, I was having sex with guys all along because, um, why not, but I – and other guys – seemed to be looking for that one guy – or maybe two – who they could be totally open with and not having to hide our weird and dual sexual interests.

“If it wasn’t for bad luck, you wouldn’t have any luck at all.” I – and others – learned to say this… a lot. Just when you think you found someone who really resonated with you, something would come along to fuck it up and it didn’t matter if the person who resonated with you – and specifically me – was male or female. I would eventually meet the girl who’d I fall in love with, she had my baby, and we got married “down the road a little bit” and that part of things was good and right and even according to “plan,” as it were.

But being able to find that one “special” guy continued to elude me until, again, I met the guy who’d I’d fall in love with and we had a real-deal relationship. And, yeah, I was once again devastated when circumstances lined up to take him away from me but, intelligently, I understood why he had to go but emotionally? Yeah… if it wasn’t for bad luck, I wouldn’t have any luck at all in this. Now having permission to have sex with anyone I could convince, it wasn’t like there weren’t guys I could have sex with and it wasn’t like I didn’t have a few “repeat customers” but… that’s not the same as having that guy you could confide with and there were zero secrets between you. After losing my boyfriend, it wasn’t like I was looking for another boyfriend and, in retrospect, I was more likely to be looking for an FWB – but, at the time, I had no… notion of this concept.

I thought that because there was no real lack of dick, not having that confidant got put on the shelf. Guys I had sex with came and went and… fine. But I had grown up being told that men… didn’t get close to each other like that; the shit I was learning in school was that we were seen more like competitors to each other which actually made sense given that we were competing for female affections and, yeah, that delicious pussy. Like, in high school, there were a couple of guys who were close friends and close enough that if some sex was “what the doctor ordered,” well, okay, but we didn’t exactly bare our souls to each other and, remember, way back in the 1970s, it was still deemed to be impossible to have such deep feelings for a dude and I, too, didn’t believe it was possible.

In a way, being male and bisexual – and being deep into dick-slinging with like-minded guys – wasn’t that much of a problem (or, really, more than such things can be) but I’d become aware that there was some… emotional stuff that wasn’t being taken care of since I’d lost my last favorite friend/lover and prior to me moving to another part of the city. I needed it and… wasn’t finding it, well, until… my very gay boyfriend.

With him, good Lord, I learned some stuff about myself that I hadn’t known before and had my whole viewpoint changed about what being in love could really mean and that sexuality really didn’t mean a whole lot. I was bi; he was very gay and while he’d told me that one of the reasons why he fell in love with me was because I was bisexual, he’d given me a look into an aspect of sexuality I’d never really seen before outside of merely having sex with a gay guy and experiencing drama because he might be looking for a boyfriend and, yeah, that’s not gonna happpen because it’s not supposed to and it’s impossible and… hell, no, it wasn’t impossible and it did happen and… it was fucking amazing if not very damned weird.

I would, only then, realize that “back in the day,” I’d had feelings for those favorite friends/lovers… but it wasn’t like this. Not even close. I recalled the moment I fell in love with my wife and falling in love with my boyfriend… felt the same way. Recalling asking both of my parents how I would know when I fell in love with someone and them telling me, “Oh, you’ll know it!”

Yeah, I sure as hell did. We were friends; we were lovers and in love with each other and we could confide in each other and in a way that felt right and comfortable. We… learned some sexuality stuff with and from each other and I’d never felt so… complete. Then it was over. That reminder that nothing is forever and that, sometimes, the more you want something, you get it and… it goes away and just when it really starts to get good. It is, in fact, one of those facts of life that you kinda get used to but not really.

It would be decades before I found another guy that I felt that I was damned near in love with him and just like damned near every time this happened in the past, it was glorious and… eventually went away. Having my relationship with him vanish like smoke was something I knew was going to happen – I just didn’t know when but experience had taught me that I had to get the most out of every moment because that day was inevitably going to come and you’d think that if you know for a fact that it’s going to end, it would soften the blow when it did.

For me, it did and didn’t all that much. There’s nothing wrong with the sexual aspects of things because, um, we’re guys and known – and prone – to slinging the dick on each other. I felt that once I got my emotions “opened up” with and by my boyfriend, there was a… void to be filled and one that sex – and no matter how good it was – couldn’t begin to touch. It made me feel… incomplete. Would another boyfriend be the ticket? It could have save for the drama that had invaded the whole dynamic (and from my point of view). As a guy, I was used to women making demands – just part of the deal, a necessary evil, and occupational hazard, right? But now, men are making similar demands; I’d better have a job and making more money than minimum wage; I had to have a car and a house and… wait, am I really having this conversation with a guy?

And then the guys who wanted to make me their bitch and sex slave and this was their idea of a “relationship.” Sheesh. And, by the way, this didn’t include the gay men who were making such demands and… who wants to be in a relationship with some telling you how it’s going to be and offering up portents of evilness if cheating happens and… yeah – bad enough to be married to a woman but, as I would tell my protege one day, we put up with shit from women that we will not put up with coming from another dude..

I wasn’t – and I’m still not – looking to be in a relationship with a guy because I don’t need that level of drama and stress. I’d long since learned that sexuality and relationships are not joined at the hip and like it’s being said to be. Being told – and learning – that sex, in particular – is better when you’re in a relationship but also learning that you can be in a relationship with someone and having sex and… yawn. You pretty much wind up “phoning it in;” the thrill is gone and the fires we burned in back in the beginning may or may not be rekindled and… such is life, huh?

To me, a relationship based on sexuality… isn’t really a bad thing but I’ve never believed that it’s a necessity if all two guys wanted to do was get off at each other’s expense. It’s the environment I grew up in; we can suck/fuck/both – but the moment it even starts to feel like a relationship, the whole thing gets shut down. Having “repeat business” with a guy was fine because we’re friends and can have sex because it’s good when we get together or, yeah, friends with benefits but something handled without any emotional content other than a lot of lust and a degree of being friends… today. Later today, things could change. You… get to feeling some kind of way when the only time you saw a “regular” was when… he wasn’t getting any pussy; you could go a long time not seeing or even hearing anything about him but if he wasn’t getting any pussy, he comes a-knocking at your door and, um, yo, do you think we can do a little somethin’?

Oh, now you know and remember me, do you? No, I don’t think we can do anything… but this was still a big part of the dynamic and as I was beginning to get… a better look at. Being emotional with a guy was/is all well and good… but it wasn’t necessary. I’d get with a guy and the sex was all that and then some, but I wouldn’t even think about things going beyond this moment and even in those “rare” moments when I wouldn’t have minded things going to a next step… but if I don’t know about anyone else, I know about guys and how they can be about such things because, duh, I’m a guy.

As far as being in a “loving relationship” with a guy was concerned, for me, it became a question of… did I even want to be bothered with it? Relationships take work from beginning to end and it wasn’t like I wasn’t willing and able to put in that work when I was now in a relationship not only with my wife but two other women and, yeah, if you can handle that one, handling a relationship with a guy and doing all that work is a piece of cake… if I wanted to be bothered with it.

If you’re not willing to do the work, don’t take the job. I’m a very emotional guy and one who has worn my heart on my sleeve from the start and, yeah, who knew I could be that emotional with a guy? I sure as hell didn’t but that happened and… I’d never say never but as my venerable mother used to say, “You don’t go looking for trouble!” The last guy I’d gotten that close to… fucked it up for the both of us by making unreasonable demands on my time; started insisting that I drop whatever I’m doing because he wanted his dick sucked. Nothing is forever and, admittedly, I didn’t want to end what we had – and the bond that had been created – but, yeah, no, I don’t ask how high when you tell me to jump – had enough of that when I was in the military.

All of which tends to make me miss the good old days and waxing nostalgic. Things change and… nothing is forever. Nothing. You… take what you can get and do your best to make the best of it “while it lasts” because to not do this… is cheating and depriving yourself and regardless to sexuality but bisexuals aren’t immune to needing that special bond with a guy and, nope, it’s not gay at all.

But it is human.

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: 31 May 23, 1253 hours

I was reading the latest entry to a long-standing post about… the first time you sucked cock. As an avid cocksucker myself, I’ve always been interested and fascinated about how others started doing it and today’s most recent entry contained a phrase that I’ve heard a lot but tends to bring a smile to my face:

“Don’t cum in my mouth!” I learned how traumatizing a moment this can be for someone and especially when the guy promises that he won’t and… oops. There’s a lot of “shit” that plays into this being a traumatizing moment and, particularly, being lied to; making a promised that wasn’t kept; that… taste. That’s the bad side of it and I have no doubts that there are a lot of people who have experienced this particular trauma but, as you might expect, it’s not always traumatic.

Sometimes, it’s… funny and, yeah, I know about my sense of humor but bear with me. Some… bullshit. I hadn’t even ejaculated for the first time when I would overhear those old guys talking about stuff that I knew I shouldn’t be overhearing and one of the things they’d sometimes get to talking about was how bad it was to be a… scum sucker. Okay, no idea what that was but overhearing this a bit more revealed that if you were a guy and a scum sucker, you were fucked up. What confused me was overhearing things that suggested that if a girl/woman was a scum sucker, well, that was all well and good and very much preferred and… old people are crazy.

Puberty hits me like someone dropped a planet on me and now I’m shooting the “baby making stuff” that I’d heard about and would later find that it was also known as scum but prior to that, I’m now shooting the stuff, I’m telling all my friends about it – and the news was met with mixed results; some guys were happy for me and some were pissed off because I could do it and they couldn’t but I had to prove that I could. After my announcement, one guy said, “Prove it!” and off we went to do it and doing it started out with dicks being sucked. He’s sucking me, it’s feeling good and then it’s feeling really good and… the “lights go out” and I can feel my dick pumping in his mouth and he’s… not doing well with it but, yeah, I proved that I could shoot it. He was… mad because he’d swallowed some of it but, I’ll say later and when we’d do it, he didn’t complain a whole lot if I shot it in his mouth.

Girls did once the girl I first came into spread the word that I could shoot the stuff. They clearly didn’t want it in their mouth and my first warning that if I felt like I was going to do it, I’d better tell them so they could stop sucking me and…. um, let’s say that I wasn’t all that successful with this which led to those girls who weren’t happy with me not sucking my dick (but I could still fuck them). Other girls liked having it shot in their mouth and guys, well, once that first friend confirmed that I could shoot it – and talked about how it tasted – some guys wanted to taste it and some guys were, like some girls, saying, “Don’t shoot it in my mouth!”

I would eventually learn that we don’t have as much control over that as might be preferred. You get the “don’t shoot it in my mouth” thing and you learn to either tell the person sucking you that you’re gonna shoot or, a bit harder (at first), snatch your dick away from them and now, the stuff is flying all over the place and, uh-oh, sometimes on the person who got you to shoot it. I still couldn’t understand why it was bad to be a guy and a “scum sucker” but it was okay for a girl to be one and overhearing those old guys not being happy with a woman who wouldn’t let them “cum” in her mouth and, okay, what’s cum? Oh, it’s the same as scum and jizz and… adults sure use some funny words, don’t they.

I’d suck some guys who’d gotten bitch-slapped by puberty and are now ejaculating and they’d tell me that they’re not going to shoot it in my mouth but I’d tell them that if they did, it’s be okay – I wanted them to do that so it wasn’t like I was going to tell a guy not to do it; I’d gotten my first taste of it and, yeah, it tasted good and swallowing it – and as I and others would learn – leaves no evidence, well, evidence that can be seen.

Guys and gals were funny about it; I’d learn that some were funny about it because someone wanted them to suck their dick and they promised not to shoot in their mouth and… that’s what they did and, at this point, it didn’t make a difference if it was accidental or done purposely but, yeah, some guys thought it was funny to promise not to do that and do it anyway and, perhaps, not really understanding that they just scarred this person for life or, at the least, stole their joy of sucking dick. Now, one of the “after affects” of this was since girls didn’t want it (a) in their mouth and/or (b) in their pussy (even though they’d not yet had their first period, but they knew our stuff would put a baby in them), it made us guys sucking each other off… a thing.

You either liked having it in your mouth or you didn’t. Accidents, as I would learn, happened and grudgingly forgiven… or not. In today’s terms, there were many of us who were “cum sluts” and, yeah, I probably “led the league” in this category because the thing that would make me mad – and fighting mad at times – was when a guy didn’t shoot it in my mouth. Although, yeah, sometimes, I’d get a mouthful of stuff that just didn’t taste good and now a split-second decision: Swallow it anyway or spit it out and some guys were in the mode of being quite unhappy if you spit their stuff out and even unhappier to be told that their stuff tasted nasty.

For me, the message was clear: If I wanted people to suck my dick (and I most definitely did), if they tell me not to cum in their mouth, then don’t do that. Do my best to warn them and, hopefully, at the first signs that I’m gonna cum but, yeah, accidents happen and now it was all about being able to convince them that I did not do this on purpose! Still, the “word on the street” was that only faggots and sissies – gay dudes – sucked scum and loved to do it and since these were nasty and evil guys, the fear of being gay was being perpetrated among us guys and now some of the “evil” shit was being perpetrated on those who liked to suck dick… but their requests not to have it in their mouth would be ignored.

Then consider that there’s that… expectation that if you were giving a guy a blowup, getting that mouthful of spunk was part of getting one and for me and other guys, we expected to get it and woe be unto you if you didn’t deliver the goods. In my own experiences alone, I didn’t run into too many guys who said, “Don’t shoots/bust/cum in my mouth/head;” and the last time I heard it was way back when I was 25 or so and with Mr. Holy Shit Your Dick Is Long and him… being a pussy about me possibly cumming in his mouth – but he was very much looking forward to cumming in mine. He’d said, “Don’t bust a nut in my head…” while I was sucking him and… I stopped because he had, again, made it clear that he was going to bust one in my head and… we had a conversation about that and I bluntly told him that if he was gonna bust in my head, he was gonna get one busted in his and if he had a problem with it, we can stop right here and he can leave.

It wasn’t like I hadn’t learned some stuff about this from both men and women because I had but this event occurred at a time when I was getting fed up with guys wanting to do stuff to me – but didn’t want it done to them and, oh, hell, no. Now, I wasn’t an asshole and if a guy didn’t want cum in his mouth, I’d warn him in advance but if he didn’t stop, well, that’s not on me and more so if/when I told you twice. I’d learned that it is proper etiquette to warn someone who’s sucking you that you’re going to cum – and provided that they weren’t able to pick up on the clues that this is about to happen – and, again, if you warned them and they didn’t stop, not my fault and I’ll say “usually” with women, I’d do my best to get them to stop sucking me by moving away or gently using my hands on their head to remove them before I get yelled at.

Yeah, I’m a nice guy about it, both in my mindset and because I like having my dick sucked. But it was like I told a woman who was stupidly good at doing it and I came in her mouth and, shit, one moment it was fucking amazing and – boom. She’s pissed; she says I had to tell her, and I told her that I didn’t have time to tell her, and she said that I should have been in control of it and… how the fuck does that really work? Okay, yeah – you’re screwing a woman (or a guy) and they want you to go for as long as you can and more so when doing it before they want you to is… very bad.

I have gotten guys to cum in my mouth in less than a minute and we’ve both been surprised by it, him embarrassingly so and me pleasantly so. We are… compelled to hold off from cumming so the sex can be good for the other person but, yeah, sometimes… you just can’t and I’d learn that there are a lot of things that play into not being able to hold off for a long time but how being overstimulated can result in not cumming which tends to make the other person unhappy and… you can’t win for losing. A guy tells me, before I go down on him, that’s he not gonna cum in my mouth; I tell him that it’s okay and I want him to but he’s adamant that he’s not going to and I’d find out later – and after he came in my mouth in about 30 seconds or so – that he said it because… women don’t like it.

“I’m not a woman,” I said. “If I didn’t like having cum in my mouth, I wouldn’t suck dick. Do you think you can go again?” I knew and accepted two things: One is… I love to swallow cum and the other was that if I’m giving a guy a blowjob, there’s the expectation and unwritten/unspoken agreement that he’s to cum in my mouth. I’ve gotten accidental facials and they just reminded me that as much as we think we have some control over this, sometimes, we really don’t. Guys who came in under a minute but then guys who took a long time to cum (thanks, ladies) or all kinds of other crap that resulted in me not getting cum in my mouth and… lots of drama and other shit that I understood is a part of what it means to have sex.

Being in the online days and one of the things that got put out there first is do you suck and swallow? Of course, I do but there were many men who sucked but didn’t swallow because they either never swallowed or they had reason to not like it, like not acquiring the taste or, as a lot of females have had happened to them, the guy promised not to do that and… it happened anyway, and accidents were seen at being the same as a deliberate and insensitive thing to do. If you said that you sucked but didn’t swallow, for a lot of guys, that was a major deal breaker and while I’d… gotten used to being sucked but not sucked off, if a guy said that he didn’t swallow, it wasn’t that big of a deal because I made it clear that I’m going to suck him and suck him off and swallow all of it.

I know that I don’t have to swallow it; I can spit it out or, as I’ve done, stop sucking him and use my hands to get him off – and learning that some guys weren’t happy with me… because I didn’t let them cum in my mouth and… okay, there has to be something about this that I’m missing and/or not understanding. I’d be sucking some guys and not get warned but I learned to pick up on some subtle clues from his dick that would tell me that, uh-huh, he’s about cut loose and, yeah, it’s about damned time!

A guy asks, “Why do you swallow it?” and I had a hard time answering his question. The first time I had a dick in my mouth, I got cum in my mouth and while I didn’t swallow it on purpose, I swallowed it just the same and, wow, that tastes… good? Weird? After that I was, perhaps, way too keen to swallow it because getting it out of a guy… made me feel wonderful. And, yes, guys who could shoot expected to shoot in my mouth and since they would, I’d… swallow it unless it tasted nasty but, yeah, sometimes the best way to deal with the nasty-tasting stuff was to swallow it or, if I could, just hold it in my mouth and let it dribble out; I would learn that with some guys, that was okay if I let it dribble or I spit it out because… they came in my mouth and… just like I expected them to do.

Being “confused” when someone says, “Don’t cum in my mouth!” and I’d warn them and… they didn’t stop and I do the thing they didn’t want me to do but why did they change their mind? I’d ask because, yeah, I’m confused now… not that I’m complaining about it but, still. A lot of different answers up to an including them saying that they didn’t hear me warning them and… well, okay. What giving a blowjob meant had… meaning. You sucked the guy until he came (or he didn’t and now it’s about getting him off some other way) and he would prefer to cum in your mouth and it would be nice if you swallowed it and, no, I do not know why. One guy told me that by swallowing my cum, he’s taking a part of me and, indeed, when I was deep into researching cocksucking, I’d come across stuff where in some cultures, taking a man’s seed was a way to capture a man’s essence i.e., if he was a great warrior, his “power” could be transferred to the one taking his seed… although, um, that kinda didn’t make sense where women were concerned since there weren’t that many female warriors and… okay, there’s a lot about this that doesn’t make sense but the rule remained that if you gave a guy a blowjob, you took the cum in your mouth and… what you did with it after you got it was up to you.

Now, some girls wanted it in their mouth and for the same reason I did: It tastes good, and you get a great sense of accomplishment in making him cum in your mouth. Some girls did it… to keep the dick and cum out of their pussies and for obvious reasons; some girls did it to… get the guy hooked on them and then, at some point, refuse to do it again and dangle sucking him off as a carrot that, hopefully, kept him hooked on her. Us guys did it… because we are supposed and expected to and if that doesn’t make a lot of sense to you, welcome to the club.

It’s been a damned long time since I’ve had someone tell me not to cum in their mouth. I’m sure that there are guys today who’d tell another guy that and, yeah, I used to hear it a lot in the younger days because it was well and truly known that cum… tastes nasty and it’s the infamous acquired taste and, as such, a lot of folks were seriously afraid of it because of what they heard… but not because they found out if they could acquire the taste or not.

What you learn is that you do not ever cum in someone’s mouth without their prior and express permission. You are expected and required to warn the person who’s sucking you that you’re going to cum and even if it only feels like you are. If you think you have the right to do it and regardless to being told not do, then what kind of inconsiderate, fucked up motherfucking son-of-a-bitch are you?

Among guys, I learned that one of the reasons why they can be afraid of sucking dick is… getting that mouthful of spunk and, these days, there’s a lot of fear attached to it in the form of STDs which isn’t unwarranted but a lot of guys work under the assumption that if they take a man’s cum in their mouth, they will be infected with something; telling them that you can’t get something if the other person doesn’t have it to give… doesn’t quite register with them and, yeah, the CDC says there’s a 96% chance that you won’t catch something nasty in your mouth but that’s… science stuff and the kind few people want to be bothered with knowing and, yeah, again, assuming that sucking a guy off under the auspices of a relationship makes them safe.

Sigh. Girls/women would suck me and tell me that I’d better not cum in their mouth because the cum is supposed to go in their pussies and, well, yeah – okay. But it’s like I’ve told guys who’ve sucked dick and got surprised over getting that mouthful, “What did you think was gonna happen if you sucked him long enough and in the right way… and how come you didn’t know this?”

Now… the drama. A woman is pitching a bitch at me because she found out that her man was being sucked off by a guy – and it wasn’t me, by the way – and she’s flying off the rails about it and when I could get words in edgewise, I tell her that, for one, we – men – know that if a woman’s not going to do that, there’s a guy who will and, shit, it doesn’t really mean anything but it also does. She says that she doesn’t have to do that if she doesn’t want to and I say that she’s right – she doesn’t – but I also point out to her something I knew as a fact: If you don’t or won’t do it, someone else will. But wait – it gets weirder!

She does a “Yeah, but…” on me and says that if another bitch had sucked him off, she wouldn’t be all that pissed the fuck off but because it was a gay-assed punk bitch dude, well, he was as wrong as anyone can be. I made the “mistake” of asking her what the difference was because in my mind, getting sucked off really doesn’t have anything to do with who does it but, yeah, it does and… why is she yelling at me about what her man did and more so since I wasn’t the guy who’s sucking him off?

Well, that’s because I’m a guy and guilty by association and we all are a bunch of no good, cheating, gay-assed motherfuckers who doesn’t respect women and… when I got more words in I asked her, “If you aren’t going to do it, who’s supposed to?” and she said, “Nobody is and if he don’t like it, he can fucking leave!”

“But what if he doesn’t want to leave?” I had asked… because some guys really don’t want to. And she looked at me like I was crazy and kept going off about it and while I didn’t like being bitched at for something I didn’t do, it continued to confirm in my mind that there are some guys who will turn to a guy to get sucked off… because women aren’t of a mind to do it all that much and… I understood that, too.

She’s asking me why we want to put that nasty shit in a woman’s mouth and I tell her, honestly, “Because it feels good to do that and that’s because we are biologically programmed to cum in something. Preferably your pussy but your mouth works, too.” And… now she has a reason to go off on me… because I told her the truth as I knew and understood it.

In the younger days, first time guys would tell me that, yes, they want to suck my dick – but don’t shoot in their mouth, okay? Okay but if I’m about to do it, I will let you know so you can stop. I’ve warned them and sometimes they stop and sometimes… they kept right on going; maybe I have the wherewithal to warn them again but sometimes I didn’t and… yeah. That. Now I’m feeling bad about it and afraid that they’re going to be mad at me and sometimes they were and most of the time… they weren’t.

When a guy says, “That wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be…” it’s because they got that mouthful of spunk when they didn’t want or expect it but, hmm, yeah, not that bad. I clearly remember talking to my protege about this and, man, he was seriously weird about it. He didn’t have a problem with a guy sucking his dick but he was afraid to cum in the guy’s mouth – and the dude was expecting him to. Likewise, he was “scared shitless” to suck a guy because he was afraid of getting HIV/AIDS if the dude were to cum in his mouth – and I told him that unless a condom was being used, the moment he put the guy’s dick in his mouth, he’s already exposed himself to any potential risk and he didn’t have to cum for that to happen. He said that he knew for a fact that he wouldn’t like the taste of it and I asked, “How do you know you wouldn’t?”

But, of course, it was rhetorical because I knew why: They still say it’s an acquired taste and a nasty-tasting one to acquire. He gets comfortable with cumming in a guy’s mouth but, yeah, telling guys not to cum in his mouth and I asked him, “If you expect to be able to cum in a guy’s mouth and he swallow you cum, why would you think that it’s unrealistic if you’re sucking him and he’s not supposed to do the thing that you expect him to do? Doesn’t that sound a bit hypocritical?”

Kinda funny to hear a guy say, “I don’t have to if I don’t want to!” and, true enough, he doesn’t but I told him that when it comes to giving a blowjob – and that’s the thing that’s been agreed to – sucking each other off is… an expectation; it’s the way it’s supposed to be done and it’s always been this way and unless the guy tells you not to suck him off, um, really – what do you think is supposed to happen?

He asked me why it’s an expectation and I honestly told him, “I really don’t know – I just know that it is. It comes down to this: You’re either going to suck him off – and either spit or swallow – or you aren’t but I think it’s a bit irresponsible for you to expect the other guy to suck your balls dry and you gotta ask yourself why you’re afraid of doing something you would, say, expect me to do if I’m giving you a blowjob?”

“And you need to understand that there are men out there who are of a mind that if they swallow your cum, you have to swallow theirs and if you don’t, well, your reputation as a cocksucker is going to get dinged and not in a good way because in the online world, it’s not unheard of for guys to put the word out on other guys, like, don’t make a deal with this guy because he doesn’t want cum in his mouth – but he expects you to take his cum and swallow it!”

It is deemed that if you suck a guy and he doesn’t cum in your mouth, the blowjob is a bad one and… you don’t know how to suck dick. Yeah, I can “hear” the outrage over this one, but it’ll do you no good to shoot the messenger because I’m telling you what I know and have experienced with this. A woman says, “If you expect me to suck you off, you can forget that shit!”

I tell her, “I don’t ever expect it and other women have conditioned me to not expect it, don’t ask for it, and even if it’s an accident, it’s my fault and all that.” She looked at me like I was some kind of alien – which I thought was funny but that’s me – and… she didn’t believe me and I very much understood why she didn’t… because I suck dick, too, and I know how guys are about getting their dick sucked.

“If you suck me and I can’t cum in your mouth, I’m not going to be upset about it – I’m used to it and I will tell you if you’re about to make me cum.”

“No, you wouldn’t because all you motherfuckers will lie in a heartbeat!” and… yeah, this is the kind of shit that we are capable of that ruins our chances to get sucked off.

I have, in my lifetimes, been sucked off more by men than women and… I respect their “don’t cum in my mouth” position because… I know some stuff about that. I have never told a guy not to cum in my mouth; I’ve actually had guys apologize for cumming in my mouth and have asked them, “Why are you apologizing for something that I wanted you to do?”

And I’ve been of a mind that if there’s a reason why you shouldn’t bust one in my mouth, it’s also a damned good reason not to give you a blowjob. A guys asks, “What’s the worst thing that’s happened to you because you swallowed?” That one was easy: “Sometimes, it gives me the runs.” Ah, but your friendly neighborhood science nerd knows why it does at times and, okay, I understand that, and I understand that the only… nastiness transferred isn’t an STD; his cum just upset the water balance in my stomach and intestines… and like I’ve had stuff I’ve eaten – food – that’s done that.

I’ve had guys ask me to not make them cum – and I know some stuff about that and it doesn’t have to do with fucking being on the menu – and, okay, I’ll do my best to but I’m not going to be responsible if you do cum and if you don’t warn me, that’s your fault. I’ll end this with what I think is a funny story.

I’d spent an entire day with a woman and having sex with her and, yes, she sucked me off a couple of times during the festivities. Nighttime comes and she’s going to give me a ride home but… her car won’t start because the battery’s quite dead. So I gotta Flintstone it home and, fuck, it’s gonna be a long walk but that’s fine. I’m walking along when a car slows, then stops alongside me and a guy rolls down the window and asks me if I want a ride. I quickly do a risk assessment and, okay, if he gets weird, I’m gonna do my best to fuck him up. I accepted his offer because… girlfriend wore my ass out and I’m more tired from walking.

I get in and tell him that it’s okay for him to let me off where he lives because it’s only a few blocks from where I live and then he asks me… how much I would charge him to suck my dick. I’m finding this funny – my sense of humor – and I’m throwing ridiculous numbers at him for the fun of it but deep down inside, yeah – sucking him off (and he had asked how much he’d have to pay for me to suck him off) doesn’t sound like a bad idea right about now. I’d do it for free but since he’s offered money, I tell him that it’ll cost him $20 – $10 to suck me off and $10 for me to suck him off. He readily agrees and, a few minutes later, we get to his place and go straight to his bedroom.

We get undressed and onto the bed; he goes to suck me and pulls back like my dick tried to bite him and says, “You’ve had this in pussy!” Well, um, yeah – I most certainly have and did. Now he’s going off because I smell like pussy and… it pissed me off. I’ve already got his $20 in my pocket and… the devil jumps on my shoulder and says, “Blow his brains out!” Now we’re tussling because I want his dick in my mouth; he’s yelling about not wanting anything to do with me because I fucked a woman and I said, “You paid for it so you should get your money’s worth!”

He relents and I get to sucking him and, yeah, this is what I needed and I’m going at him and like I would any other guy and he starts screaming at me to… not make him cum. Despite my dick being “pussy-flavored,” he moves to get into position to suck me and, hmm, he sure acquired the taste of pussy pretty quickly and I know he’s sucking me as a distraction to keep me from making him cum and… that doesn’t work on me all that much because, from the beginning, I had to learn how to stay focused on sucking a dick while mine was being sucked. He stops sucking me and screaming at me not to make him cum too fast and… that sounds like a great idea!

In real time, we’ve only been at this for a couple of minutes and after he begged me to not make him cum too fast, it only took me another thirty seconds or so (and, yeah, I kept count in my head) to make him cum and it made me feel so good to feel his dick pumping it in and it didn’t taste bad at all and… he was pissed and I didn’t much care that he was. Now he says that he’s not going to suck me off and that I have to give him $10 back – but he gave me a $20 bill and I only had like $3 in my pocket. I tell him this and he’s even more pissed but says that he’s going to suck my dick but “Don’t cum in my mouth!” Which had me scratching my head (in my head) but, okay… I guess. Dudes are so weird sometimes.

Honestly, I didn’t think I would because… he’s not all that good at it but, I dunno what happened but he got good at it and I tell him that I’m gonna cum – three times. He even looked up at me the second time I told him and nodded so, okay, he understood me but he kept right on sucking me and I cum. I hear him go “urp” but he’s swallowing it and when he got done… he was well and truly pissed because I came in his mouth after he told me not to.

And I laughed. I couldn’t help it. I managed to ask him, “If you didn’t want me to cum in your mouth, why didn’t you stop when I told you three times that I was gonna cum?”

He didn’t answer me; told me to get the fuck out of his house and that he never wanted to see me again because I made him cum too fast and I came in his mouth.

Have I ever told you how fucking weird and funny guys are? I saw him a couple of days later and, no shit, he saw me coming toward him, recognized me and… turned around and went back the way he came and cussing me out the whole time. Some other guy who happened to witness this asked, “What the fuck is wrong with him?” and I said, “I have no idea…” but, of course, I did know what was wrong with him.

“Don’t cum in my mouth” should always be respected. I learned that those who got traumatized by cum in the mouth has to get up a lot of nerve just to suck a dick again and I respect what that takes and, again, you never cut loose in someone’s mouth without their permission and if you do, most people aren’t going to accept you saying that you didn’t mean to and it was an accident… because men have a bad reputation for doing it on purpose. Two guys decide to suck each other and it’s their first time doing such a thing and… don’t cum in my mouth gets put out there and… it happens anyway and, well, what did you think was gonna happen if you did it for the right amount of time and in the right way?

Now, in this somewhat humorous situation, it’s all about whether the guys in question find that, hmm, that wasn’t as bad as they thought it would be or as they’d been told it is. A guy online asks, “Do you always swallow?” and it’s a good question because sometimes I don’t – but it’s not because I’m afraid to swallow it. Hints of a bad taste; it’s taking too long to get him off; he’s either said or done something to piss me off and now, if he cums, it’ll be all over my hand and definitely not in my mouth and like he expected and he expected it because… that’s the way it’s supposed to be when dudes suck cock but, yeah, guys will invoke “don’t cum in my mouth” because they haven’t acquired the taste or… they’re afraid to for some reason and, yeah, I’ve have guys tell me not to because… it’s gay.

Um, hmm, isn’t a guy sucking a guy’s prick a thing that gay men are known to do? A guy tells me not to cum in his mouth because he knows (for a fact) that if I do, he’s going to turn into a gay man. If you’re laughing, trust me – I was laughing, too. I have had guys tell me this… because they actually want me to cum in their mouth and not unlike reverse psychology… and, um, guys are weird.

The dramatic reality some women wind up knowing in that if they exercise their right not to suck a guy off – and especially in a relationship setting – there’s a chance that someone else might wind up doing it… and it just might be another guy and then… getting a guy to do it might not have anything to do with you but a lot of women find this hard to believe. “Don’t cum in my mouth” can cause… performance issues; indeed, I have sucked off quite a few guys who have told me that they can’t cum like that and… I know why they can’t… because women have conditioned us not to.

They’ve been surprised when I’ve made them cum, quickly or otherwise. Oh, yeah it’s true – if you wanna get sucked off and your cum swallowed, there are plenty of men who’d give their right arm to suck that cum right out of you. I understand and know how nice it is to… just suck a dick but also knowing that at some point, he’s gonna cum and he might be prone to cumming and not wanting to stay around for anything else and… occupational hazard. Despite preferences and other social niceties, I have been of a mind that if you suck a man’s dick and demand that he not cum in your mouth – but that winds up happening – um, really: What did you think was gonna happen or what could happen? And do you really believe that we have some kind of absolute control over it?

ln the early part of my relationship with my current lady, she’s giving me a blowjob and, whew, oh, boy, she’s doing a number on me and I’m “automatically” on hold and enjoying the orgasms she’s giving me but now I gotta cum and I tell her and move away from her and… she asked me why. I tell her that it’s bad form to cum in a woman’s mouth without her prior permission to do so and she hadn’t given me that permission and I didn’t expect her to. She… jumps dead in my case about it and, rightfully, tells me that she can suck me off any damned time she wants to or feels like it and… sucks me off. But she was miffed that I pulled away… because, as she would say later, she knew that if she’s giving a guy a blowjob – and there’s not going to be any fucking – then sucking him off is the thing that has to be done and… that’s how male cocksuckers tend to feel about it.

It’s always comes down to preference and reserving the right to change your mind. If you get told to not cum in their mouth, then, duh, don’t do it. Accidents are not likely to be understood or forgiven and definitely not forgotten. If you can’t warn them, then just move away or, if you have to, move them. I… understand some stuff about this that can be, at times, quite humorous… just as I understand some stuff that is anything but humorous when it comes to “Don’t cum in my mouth!”

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: 29 May 23, 1433 hours

“Would you go gay?”

This is a question that appeared on the forum and has become a rather spirited conversation about what one would or wouldn’t do in this regard (as well as the expected unrelated stuff) and, yeah, my “archnemesis” on the site chiming in with some rhetorical stuff about picking a side and staying on it and “once you’re gay, you’re there to stay.”

I challenged his assertions by asking him if he really believed that a person cannot change their mind about their sexuality and how they want to go about handling it. Indeed, one of the very curious things I’ve observed over the years is the notion that once you decide what -sexual you’re going to be, well, that’s it – you’re stuck with it for the rest of whatever and now it’s deemed to be unthinkable or even impossible for one to have reason to change their mind about it.

This is where misconception tends to be believed more than the truth and it also tends to obscure the obvious, i.e., I was raised to be heterosexual and… I’m not. My situation isn’t all that unique; given that I was quite young when I discovered and embraced bisexuality, I didn’t have “a long time” being indoctrinated into the heteronormative narrative but, sure, I became aware that people are either straight or they’re gay and given those locked down definitions, well, what the heck am I because I’m… both?

It wasn’t a… decision; it wasn’t like I sat down with myself and had to really think about a lot of stuff and, well, decided that going both ways was the best place for me to be. Wait… guys can have sex with each other and it can feel amazingly good, too? Heck yeah! And girls aren’t all that yucky and laced with cooties? On your marks, get set… go and run like the wind with it. I’ve not had reason to change my mind about my sexuality or, in the times I’d think that, you know, this might not be a good thing for me to do, I’ve yet to come up with a reason to not be bisexual.

But there remained this thing of picking a side and staying on it. No “going back and forth” as it were… and implying that a person couldn’t change their mind about it… and people do and… where do you think bisexuals come from? Many of them are formerly heterosexual and some are formerly homosexual… because moving more toward the middle… is what works for them. We have finally allowed that human sexuality is very damned fluid and we still refer to the vaunted Kinsey Scale to, at the least, put things into perspective… but human sexuality is so fluid that a person can, if it suited their needs and purposes, go from 0 to 6 and back again or even hang out from 2 to 5… but sociosexual norms insist that, again, once you pick a side, that’s it for the rest of your life.

Really? One of the knocks against bisexuality is that it’s merely a “rest stop” on the way to really being gay and there is some truth to this but what gets lost in the muck is that someone who started out straight, became bi, and went on to being gay… changed their mind about it. What we don’t consider is that, sometimes, it’s not about what we’re doing but what we’re thinking and feeling; I don’t see where we – the people debating the pros and cons of bisexuality – are considering how fluid our thoughts and feelings are and at any given moment and I mean this literally because I’ve had moments where my thoughts and feelings are 100% heterosexual and, moments later, they’re 100% homosexual and/or all over the middle of things – but they don’t have anything to do with what I might do and more so when I learned to not believe in picking a side and staying on it… except, I did pick a side: The middle.

I’ve known gay men and women that are now bisexual; I knew one guy who was gay and decided that being straight made more sense to him. People thought he was crazy or he was lying about what he wanted to be because, as everyone knew, you pick a side, you stay on it and there is no going back… and even my younger self knew this was a stupid way to think because… people change their minds.

What I understand is that “going gay” is a lifestyle change more than it is a sex-related kind of things. Sure, there are guys who have “given up” having sex with women in favor of the relative ease of having sex with men but their sexual attraction to women remains in place even if they never have sex with a woman again. There are guys who are more emotionally attracted and connected to men more than they are women and now they consider themselves to be gay and, well, women are still somewhat attractive, but I saw that if a guy “went gay,” that meant that he had to give up and forget about any or all attractions to women and… how does that really work?

I know gay men who have sex with women and they’ll tell you quick and in a hurry that they’re still gay because men are still their primary focus; ditto for gay women who aren’t all that opposed to sex with a man – and despite the fact that in both situations, one could be convicted of being a traitor to the gay cause… and believing that no one can or should be able to change their minds about what they need in their lives.

I have known a great many men who have given being bisexual a try and… went back to being straight or, in one or two guys, back to being gay… because being bisexual wasn’t working for them or, likely, they were getting their heads handed to them for not picking a side and staying on it.

Really, when you consider that there are straight men who have sex with guys and will insist that they’re still straight, that should tell you something. A lot of this is… us mindfucking ourselves and allowing social and moral norms to mindfuck us and as I’ve seen with guys who fool themselves into believing that as long as there’s no cum involved, whatever sexual act that’s taking place… isn’t gay.

“Conventional” kind of thinking suggests that if being homosexual is “a great evil,” why would anyone want to be homosexual? Indeed, the elders in my village went out of their way to paint homosexuality in the worst light possible and to scare us away from finding out anything about it and while it worked for some, it didn’t for others… and really didn’t work on me. Okay. We’re “allowed” to experiment with each other as long as (a) it doesn’t become a major problem and (b) you give it up and be straight and like you’re supposed to be. This isn’t… changing your mind: This is an edict that demands that you cease and desist at the point where you’re deemed to be grown enough “to know better” – which I believed was 16.

I’ve known guys and gals to walk away from it and like they’re supposed to… and then they came back to it; they changed their minds or had their minds changed due to circumstances, like, some women who got totally fed up relying on men to do right by them sexually and emotionally and, well, when they were fooling around with other girls, it worked nicely for them so let’s go back to that and see how it goes; doesn’t mean that they’re going to give up men… or maybe they decide that giving up on men and living a more lesbian lifestyle is what’s needed.

And there’s nothing that really says that she couldn’t change her mind at some point and for some reason and go back to being bi or straight… except that annoying “pick a side and stay the fuck on it” thing. There’s a reason why they say that bisexuals are confused and in denial because… we didn’t pick one of the two “accepted” sides.

“Would you go gay?” My answer to this was, “No, because I wouldn’t want to be monosexual.” But, you see, if only in my own mind, being gay isn’t a thing to do – it’s a way to be and, oh, that’s right – just like bisexuality is and as a way to be, it may or may not have “everything” with the way you have sex; it’s what you think and feel, too.

I’ve had gay men get in my case because I wasn’t of a mind to be gay and like they were. Nope, not gonna do that because I know that I love women and pussy and as much… shit I’ve had flung at me dealing with women, I couldn’t imagine a situation that would make me totally give up on them and even though, as you know, I had a boyfriend who I truly loved, I’ve not met a man who has evoked these deep feelings in me but even if I did, I’m… still bisexual and being monosexual… doesn’t work for me and, really, if it did, I wouldn’t be bisexual – but I might have chosen to be gay and live my life this way.

But that’s me. I could change my mind; something could happen that could change my mind for me (although I can’t imagine what that would be). I could change my mind and commit myself to being 100% heterosexual, but the “rub” comes in at the point where… I know how I feel; I know how my mind works in these things and… it’s not what I do but how I know I want and need to be and, importantly, not falling into that trap that’ll get me to mindfuck myself into believing that I’m now something that… I know that I’m not and I wouldn’t want to be.

Because I have been cussed out by gay men who have made it clear that if I wanted to be with them – and I mean in a relationship way – I had to give up women and I’d better not cheat on them – at all or, gasp, with a woman – and, well, you assume that I want to be in a relationship with you and given all that shit you just said? If I was going to consider it, your diatribe just convinced me not to.

I could, if I wanted or needed to, change my mind and no one gets to tell me that I can’t change my mind or, as I’ve done, stayed the course. Some of the members spoke in terms of having more sex with men than women – and maybe being somewhere between 4 and 6 on the Kinsey – and, okay, if that’s what they feel might work for them, it is what it is. My archnemesis did his usual raining on the parade with his single-minded rhetoric and, well, we kinda got into it and… his arms are still too short to box with me but all the things he’d said pointed to the supposition that a bisexual – male or female – couldn’t change their minds about their sexuality and/or sexual attractions and stank of “pick a side and stay on it.”

I allowed that when it comes to things bisexual, being gay is and should be part of the dialog because human sexuality is well and truly fluid… even if social perceptions insist that it can’t and shouldn’t be. One of the things I’d hear homosexuals going on and on about was all about their perception that they didn’t have a choice in their homosexuality and… they’re wrong about that and told me that, um, they don’t really understand choice. Okay. You can’t do a damned thing about how you feel… but you do choose to do something about those feelings or choose to do nothing about them. I know male and female bisexuals who accept their feelings… and haven’t been of a mind to do something about them and that, ladies and gentlemen, is choice; it’s a decision point and it doesn’t really matter how or why someone makes this choice and, really, if you want to know why, ask them – and not everyone makes such a choice for the exact same reasons and more so when our thoughts and feelings are in a constant state of flux to begin with… because this is how our brains work.

Shit… how many straight men and women have vehemently told me, “I would never do some shit like that!”? A lot. I couldn’t count them if I tried to. I understand that because, well, they wouldn’t ever do some shit like that and based on what they believe and even what they may have experienced and “definitely” based upon whatever they’ve heard about going both ways – and none of that was good.

And… some of them had or found reason to change their minds or, yup, had it changed for them and, hmm, not really that bad but… slicing and dicing time: “It’s not something I’d do all of the time” and that means… being gay. But, yeah, with the right person and at the right place, situation, and time? Sure – why not? Yep, it’s homosexual sex but, duh, homosexuals don’t “own” this and like they think they do but many are of a mind that as long as their attraction to the opposite sex doesn’t get fucked with, um, okay, we can do something because… the sex can be very damned good and satisfying.

Doesn’t mean that you’re gay; it doesn’t mean that somewhere down the road, you’re gonna wind up being gay, either. Combined, it’s what you think, what you feel, what you do and how all of this comes together to form a way to live your life and with the understanding that you can change your mind about it and for any reason that makes sense to you… and no one gets to tell you anything different.

You’re allowed to change your mind if it suits your purpose in life to do so. For the longest time, we’ve viewed sexuality as being static when, in truth, it’s very damned dynamic because… it’s not what we do as much as it’s about how we’re thinking and feeling and these things are always subject to change… and even if we don’t think they are. A woman tells me that she’s “strictly dickly” and there is no fucking way that she’d be anything other than that. But… she had sex with a woman and, according to her, it “just happened” and… she changed her mind. Oh, she still loves her dick but, um, yeah, getting some coochie works, too – but like men have been made to be afraid of being gay, women have been made to be afraid of being lesbian as well. It’s a fixed things in their minds and it’s going to stay there… until they get their mind changed and even if they do, there’s still nothing that says that they’re not allowed to change their mind again.

My protege and I sometimes talk about his gay friends and how they give him a raft of shit for being bisexual and telling him to make up his mind and pick a side and, “preferably,” the gay side of things. He comes back at them by suggesting that, hmm, maybe you should give sex with women a try because if you do, you might understand why he wouldn’t want to be gay and like they are.

They get miffed with him – and we both think it’s hilarious – but the sad part is that they have been so institutionalized in the gay lifestyle that they really do believe that they can’t change their minds about it and, yeah, there’s no way on God’s green earth that they’d ever sleep with a woman because that’s not what gay men do.

Yeah… sure they don’t. I grew up believing this, too, until I… learned some stuff. There’s “gay sex” and then there’s the gay lifestyle and we see them as being part and parcel of the same thing… and they never were because I can have sex with a guy with the best of them… and turn right around and have sex with a woman because… that’s what works for me and in quite a few ways. If I never have a reason to change my mind – or some situation comes along that “makes” me change my mind, well, I’m not going to change my mind about being bisexual… but you still don’t get to tell me that I can’t change my mind.

No one does. People have tried and they’ve failed. In my head, I am… all three sexualities because that’s what’s going on in my head and in every moment of every day. What I will do is… have sex both ways and never discounting emotional attachments. Being bisexual taught me, again, that thinking and doing aren’t always the same things and that nonsense that says that if you think it, you’re going to do it because I’ve thought it… and chose not to do it. Go back to being straight? Yep, I’ve considered it and have thought hard about it and, once, thinking hard about it while a guy was blowing me and, nope, not changing my mind… because I don’t have to if I don’t want to but reality says that I could change my mind, or some circumstance could change my mind, oh, like the one that took me from being straight to bisexual. I didn’t “want to be” in that sense but I literally got a taste of it and, oh, hell, yeah. Hell, yeah.

But I grew up and learned some shit about… life. Being taught that once I make a decision, I have to stick with it and no matter how it turns out and… like I can’t change my mind once a decision has been made… because I know that I’ve done it and, yup, you’ve done it, too – but not in the context of your sexuality because of that “pick a side and stay on it” bullshit that you don’t have to do… if you don’t want to.

Living life as a gay man… doesn’t suit my purposes and even if you just consider that, bluntly and unashamedly so, I love women and pussy. Learning that a relationship does not and cannot qualify, quantify, or validate one’s sexuality. That and, again, it’s not what you do sexually that’s a definitive thing but it’s how you choose to live your life and, yeah, you could have reason to change your mind or life can change your mind for you. If it’s not broke, don’t fuck with it, right?

Right. But if it is broken, do you fix it… or leave it broken? You could, for some reason, choose to leave it broken because it’s not worth fixing and… turn right around and change your mind and either fix it… or replace it. Depends on some shit, right? Right. If you’re straight and happy in your straightness, there is no need for you to change your mind and, well, that’s just how we’re supposed to behave and in that “pick a side” way and presuming that you have no reason – and there are no reasons – for you to be anything other than straight.

And I very much beg to differ because you are allowed to change your mind and for whatever reason makes sense to you. Being gay is… a choice. You choose to do/be or to do not/not be and… you are still allowed to change your mind about changing your mind…

And I don’t know why people don’t seem to really understand this and, yeah, why there are bisexuals who don’t seem to understand this and more so when… they changed their minds, or had it changed in a way that they found… acceptable. Sex versus lifestyle. You can choose one or both and… you can change your mind about all of it. People do it all of the time and there’s someone in the world right now who is changing their minds about their sexuality and/or sexual behaviors and their very lifestyle.

Because, duh, you can change your mind if you want or need to, and no one gets to tell you that you can’t – but they sure as fuck try to impose their moral will upon you and as we’ve been doing to each other since religion and morality came into existence. It’s, okay, society – you’re not the boss of me and while there are some things that I have to do, when it comes to my sexuality, you don’t get to dictate to me what that’s supposed to be and, yeah, even if I drank the Kool-Aid, I could find reason to… change my mind and drink a different flavor of the Kool-Aid or… yeah, Coke but never Pepsi. Yuck. And I still reserve the right to change my mind.

“Would you go gay?” I personally don’t think that I would because there is no reason or situation that I can imagine that would make me want to be… monosexual. Being bisexual – and in all things – has continued to prove that it just works for me and how I want to live my life and… if it ain’t broke – and it isn’t – I’m not going to fuck with it.

And I still could change my mind because you never say never. Would you go bi? And, yes, I’m asking if you would because your answer – if you choose to answer – is going to teach you something that you may or may not been aware of.

P.S.: My archnemesis is of a mind that I’m not right about what I said about this but his following reply… had him backpedaling and, methinks, grudgingly agreeing that I was, in fact, right about what I said about a person being able to change their mind about being bi or gay. He “changed the subject” on me pretty quickly and, okay, another point and “win” for me. He just likes to believe that I don’t know what I’m talking about and…

I love whupping his ass like this and about this. Even bisexuals can be… narrow minded and of a mind to not allow themselves to… see the obvious.

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: 28 May 23, 1321 hours

Thirteen years ago, and when I dove into writing about bisexuality, one of the first things I understood was that by doing so, I was going to out myself to, um, the whole damned world. I normally treat my sexuality as being on a need-to-know basis and with great awareness that there are some people who just do not need to know and those who do know, well, they know and whether they’re okay with it or not.

I’d long since learned and understood that my bisexuality is… all about me. It’s one of the things that makes me tick and the sexual liberation I’ve enjoyed to date remains exhilarating and exciting and, importantly, my near-insatiable curiosity keeps being taken care of as I continue to learn how men and women today deal with the complexities of being bisexual and in the face of the ongoing clusterfuck that either makes me scratch my head a lot or gives me a sense of satisfaction to see so many people who are – or have – discovered the same thing I did so many decades ago:

Being bisexual is fun. It’s just as normal and natural as being straight or gay is even though, yeah, all the associated drama and having moments of sadness to learn that we’re not as better about these things as I had, perhaps, foolishly hoped we would be and once, after having my eyes opened, seemed to be the thing that we, on the whole, had to be. Then gaining an understanding that since we failed to eradicate homosexuality, we would also fail to eradicate bisexuality because… you can’t stop it and more so when humans are a force of nature all unto ourselves.

I found that I enjoy a rather “unique” advantage in that I was born in the baby boom era and when the Moral Majority held sway over our social norms and behaviors and, yes, bringing the fight to homosexuals and in a way that was, on the whole, pretty heinous and, as such, gave me a serious look at man’s inhumanity to man and in ways that I often wished I hadn’t been exposed to. I grew up knowing what was being said about homosexuality, but my “problem” was that what I’d experienced… contradicted what I was being told, taught, and heard and now, experienced.

Going from believing that I was the only guy who was like this to finding out that, nope, I really wasn’t and there were girls who were also… not playing by the rules. I think about my origins and how young I was and… c’est la vie: This is life and in a way that we know about but don’t approve of and, well, adults are insane, aren’t they? Finding out that we are quick to go on and on about everything that’s bad about not being straight (while not saying shit about what’s bad about being straight) and not so willing to say anything about what’s good about not being all that straight… or all that gay, either.

The person I am right this moment is very damned glad that I didn’t learn about bisexuality as an adult because I’m not sure if my mind could handle it. Bisexuals who become this way as an adult, I found, has a lot of shit that they have to… get rid of; comparatively, I “got rid of it” before it fully set in and kid logic played a big role in “easily” parsing some stuff that some adults have a problem with; it’s… not easy to be an adult and having been heterosexual “from the start” and now, bisexuality shows up.

What the fuck, right? From my early perspective, I saw guys and gals struggling with something that, well, I wasn’t struggling with – and learning that just because being bi didn’t bother me didn’t mean that it didn’t bother someone else and… I wanted to know why. I still want to know why but it’s somewhat rhetorical on my part because I’ve seen, heard, or been involved with so many who struggled with this and, well, maybe I could help them to stop struggling by sharing what I was learning, that if they had questions – and just like I had – well, I just might know the answer.

If not being straight is all that bad, why is not being all that straight or gay such a wonderful way to be? And, once again, the answer being… because it is a wonderful way to be. This current version of myself maintains that bisexuality isn’t the problem: That would be all of the people who don’t believe in it. It’s a social problem more than anything else. And then, spending a whole lot of years and decades wondering if I was the only one who really understood this – and there are moments when I still feel this way even though I know that there are others who understand this as well.

A few years into writing about this had me realize that I had… a legacy of sorts; a responsibility to pass on my knowledge and while I was able to and as I would start to write, someone has to do it and if not me, then who’s supposed to? But the many times I’ve sat down at the keyboard and felt that… maybe I should stop writing about this. It wasn’t about a lack of an audience; it wasn’t about the lack of comments – good or bad – but it was about… I wasn’t sure and because I didn’t have a “good reason” to stop writing about bisexuality, I’ve kept writing about it and, yes, at great length and all too often repeating myself but… you can’t say enough about this and I just could never know when someone might find this blog, read it, and it makes a difference to them in some way or another.

I would read stuff written about bisexuality and a lot of it was heavily dosed with sugar and political correctness; a lot of what I call psychobabble – people writing shit and not really saying anything other than to keep rehashing all the shit regarding homosexuality and, well, bisexuals aren’t homosexuals, are they? Reading a lot of stuff that didn’t even come close to what I’d been experiencing and observing and, again, in terms that I found to be more pie-in-the-sky than being couched in reality, like, if you think that being in a relationship has anything to do with qualifying, quantifying, and validating bisexuality, I’ve been here for thirteen years to tell you to… guess again. I know that it doesn’t because, yup, been there, done that and, importantly, learned some “intellectual” shit about sex and sexuality and… us. Humans.

If homophobia didn’t make sense – and understanding that a phobia is an irrational fear of something – then this new biphobia thing doesn’t make sense, either. Oh, there are people who are scared to death of bisexuals because they feel they have reason to be scared to death and I, again, grew up being indoctrinated to be homophobic because “everyone else” was homophobic and because… God said so. And then learning that, um, maybe He really didn’t… but we did. Or, one day, reading that Sigmund Freud – I think – said that the only abnormal sex was… not having sex at all. There were some worthy men and women back before I was born that understood some stuff about us that no one wanted to hear, let alone believe and after reading the whole Kinsey Report on Human Sexuality, wow, they pretty much nailed it… and us but we were being choked off from really getting to know how we can really be by religious and moral righteousness.

And in the face of the fact that what they believed was – and always had been – debunked because there were people who just weren’t as straight as they were ordered to be. I would often be perplexed to hear someone spouting anti-homosexual rhetoric and saying that no one should be homosexual… but there are homosexuals so how could someone keep saying that it’s not real and all that other shit when… there are homosexuals? And… there are bisexuals, too, as it turned out and learning, again, that I wasn’t the only one. I just had little or no fear over asking questions that, as far as the adults around me were concerned, I shouldn’t be asking and shouldn’t have known to ask them.

All too often being amused seeing the look on someone’s face when they ask, “How do you know?” and I’d say, “How do you think I know?” and… that moment when it dawns on them how I know about having sex with guys. Not always a good moment when you out yourself to someone that, um, yeah, maybe you shouldn’t have but the cat’s out of the bag just the same. And, oh, yes, the many times when a guy wanted to know what I know and not just the intellectual side of things: What’s it really like to have sex with a guy?

Here… let me show you what I can do and what I’ve learned and maybe you’ll like it as much as I’ve learned to like it. If not, well, sorry about that but at least you gave it a shot and… never say never. Does it hurt going in there? Yep, it sure as hell can! Does sperm taste bad? It can taste bad but, usually, no, it doesn’t – it depends on some stuff that you may or may not be interested in. Does it mean that you’re really gay? Oh, fuck no! Getting some dick is all well and good but, at least for me, it ain’t better than pussy – just saying.

And, one day, growing up and seeing that human sexuality is a hell of a lot more fluid than we know or, perhaps, unwilling to admit to or, like I said to a guy, “Where do you think bisexuals come from?” and in the context of my knowing both men and women who started out straight and now they’re bi. Or gay men and women who find that, um, you know, getting some in the opposite sex way ain’t all that bad – but appearances must always be maintained, and reputations upheld and, hopefully, not all that tarnished. Reading a blog one day when a lesbian who wanted children but couldn’t afford IVF took to having sex with a guy so she could get pregnant… and her sister lesbians tarred and feathered her then ran her out of town on a rail because she broke their long-standing code that says lesbians do not ever have sex with men.

Yeah, right – sure they don’t. I believed that, too, until I had sex with a lesbian and, um, two of them. And both of them being “tickled” to learn that I was bisexual. I’m sure we learned some shit about each other that didn’t have much to do with having sex and, really, if a lesbian tells me that I’m not that bad at eating pussy, that’s like a badge of honor even if they also said that I could learn some stuff, too. But, on the whole, understanding some stuff about us that we’d prefer to not say a whole lot about:

We’re human and we seriously love having sex; it’s in our nature but, ah, morality would prefer that you don’t know anything about that and… do as you’re told or else. That “thrill” of knowing that I know something about this that most people don’t know or want to know and, yeah, I don’t look like the type because I’m… something different; something that’s been on the inside the whole time, but we were so busy trying to squash homosexuality that it was easy for us to keep flying under the radar. Lots of downsides about being both but the good of it, I found – and others have found – tend to outweigh the bad because if nothing else, you learn the truth about some stuff.

And I’ve been putting it out there via WordPress for an amazing 13 years… because as I’ve said, someone has to. Someone has to speak to the myths, misconceptions, and stereotypes that we tend to believe in more than someone’s truth in this, like, okay, if there’s supposedly no such thing as a Black male bisexual, um, what am I – chopped liver? I remember reading this and from someone who supposedly knew what they were talking about and… laughing my ass off because they didn’t know shit, but I also knew why they believed this and, yeah, um, us Black folks aren’t all as homophobic as we’re said to be and, well, how do you think I know that?

For thirteen years, I’ve been challenging whoever might read this stuff a question: If you don’t believe in bisexuality, have you ever wondered why you don’t? I’ve challenged those who might read this stuff to, if nothing else, question their sexual and sexuality beliefs and, no, I’m not trying to turn people over to the bi side but, hmm, if one was of a mind to, I might know some stuff that one can find useful and beginning with… forget all that shit you were taught and/or think you know because you’re about to get one hell of a wakeup call.

I’ve asked, “Who are you going to really believe? Your own thought and feelings – the very true ones – or all that dumb shit people have to say about it?” Truly, you don’t have to believe but, yeah, do you really know what you’re believing in and in the face that there’s a male bisexual telling you some stuff? I have no reason to lie and, as those who read my blog have seen, I’m… sugar free. I can talk about the sex I’ve had because I have no reason to be ashamed of it; the good times and the “what the fuck was I thinking about” times and what I learned about it and… myself. What would others think of me?

Ask me if I really give a fuck what they think and especially if they don’t like me because of my bisexuality. I’d had enough of this bullshit before I was 16 and declared that if you don’t like the fact that I’m bisexual, nothing you’re gonna say or try to do is ever going to change the fact that I am. Nothing. And if the only thing you pay attention to is my having sex with guys, you’re not seeing all of me; if I have to remind someone that I love the shit out of women and pussies, um, which one of us has the real problem? I’m thinking it’s not me and, yeah, as I have said time and time again, I have the fucking nerve to speak on some shit that our prudish society would prefer I not say a thing about.

Because someone has to. The thing that makes bisexuality so complex and, in essence, fucked up isn’t what we know: It’s what we don’t know and the continuing mistake a lot of people make by comparing bisexuality to homosexuality and… they have never been the same thing and, um, duh, as the words themselves say. Learning that a lot of the problems with bisexuality is about being unable or unwilling to suspend belief and not allowing belief to trump the truth. Are male bisexuals really as bad as everyone seems to think? The truth is… some of us are. That’s not all of us, though. Guess which thing most people are more likely to believe? Understanding some… science shit that says that as a bisexual man, I can’t give you an STD or HIV… if I don’t have it to give. Ah, but guess what a lot of men and women have been made to believe?

In the early moment of this particular part of the clusterfuck, the haters were putting out one hell of a smear campaign against bisexual men and inferring that if you get involved with one, you’re going to get infected and die and as a matter of course and this one was specifically aimed at women but I’m not bullshitting you when I tell you that I know guys who believe that if they take another man’s cock in hand, they’re going to be infected… and they actually believe that relationship sex is safer than casual sex. It can be… as long as you are 100% sure that you know where your FWB’s dick has been when it’s not with you.

And the clusterfuck growing into an even bigger clusterfuck to see bisexuals… losing their shit over what it means, what it looks like, and how one is supposed to be bisexual and… are you fucking kidding me? I’ve wondered if they realize that by slicing and dicing the shit out of this, they’re doing what our morality has tried to do: Tell us how to be a sexual human being. And, um, how is that supposed to work? What does relationships have to do with anything and, my pet peeve, what does gender have to do with it? I’ll say that I used to know the definition of “gender” – the act of being male or female. Those are roles and roles that were defined for us a damned long time ago and, okay, some people ain’t buying into the roles because it doesn’t fit their gender identity which, last I knew, doesn’t have anything to do with being born male or female but, yeah, humans are inherently insane, as it seems to turn out.

If you’re a guy and you believe yourself not to be a guy, okay… but I can still be intimate with you, you know, if you wanna do something. But, you see, I come from a time where gender identity… wasn’t that much of a hot-button topic. Yep, there were transvestites and cross-dressers way back in the day and… okay, they’re weird but if you got to know one, they weren’t bad people and, um, as I discovered, some of them are very good in bed but, on the whole – and just looking at things basically, humans are and can be very good in bed with each other if and when they want to be and… not always according to those rules that were laid on us so very long ago.

I found and had theorized that the moment we totally lose sight of human nature and the history of our sexual proclivities, we’ve drank the Kool-Aid that religion and our religiously based social norms wants to pour into us and without a straw and, really, waterboarding us with stuff that can work for some… but doesn’t and hasn’t worked for all and one of those things is… bisexuality. Completely defies that long-held notion that people are either straight or they’re gay and, um, by making such statements, does it not acknowledge that gay is a real thing? I thought so (and I still do) but, hey, what do I know?

Lemme talk to ya… because I know some stuff and, yeah, how do you think I know it? While there are those out there in the world who pay lip service to bisexuality, I have lived it. Experienced it in almost every way it can be experienced or, in every way I wanted to. Oh, that’s right: I’m old school and also old. Things change and, yes, they do but the basic and simple premise of bisexuality hasn’t. We’re human and, as such, if we can fuck something up, we’re gonna fuck it up big time and… that’s what I see us doing and I understand it… and I don’t.

Ah, but if I know it, now you do, too, because I have no problem telling you about it. How I learned it; how I’ve experienced it; the stuff I’ve observed that has painted a pretty interesting picture about sex, sexuality and… us. Humans. And how we… mindfuck ourselves about some stuff and all because of some other stuff that we hold to be the whole truth of things… and I’m living proof that it isn’t.

I am bisexual. I’m actually a pretty decent person to know because there is more to me than how I like to have sex. Women believe that us guys don’t know the shit they have to put up with being female and, for the most part, they’re right… but I know because guys have put me through a lot of the same shit. A guy wants to know why his lady won’t suck him off (and like she’s supposed to do, by the way) and I tell him, “Well, you could ask her and she might tell you… and you might not want to hear it or you can get into sucking dick and find out for yourself why she won’t suck you off.”

What? Am I crazy? Um, yeah, I am but that’s not the point. Because I know why I wouldn’t suck a guy off, too… because I’ve not sucked a guy off. Another guy, for some reason, doesn’t understand why his lady doesn’t want to do anal (and like she should, by the way) and, okay, homey: If you really want to know, I’d be more than happy to allow you to feel what it’s like and I’d be just as happy to let you know what some women have told me about not giving up their ass to a guy and it’s not always about it hurting.

What? I done gone and lost my motherfucking mind! Yeah, probably… but I know a lot of what they know about us… and what they don’t like about us because there are guys I wouldn’t piss on if they were on fire. And if you think that gay folks should just accept us because we have something in common with them, well, don’t think that. The truth is a lot of gay people… don’t give a fuck if we’re bi but that’s because… they get it. A gay man is giving me a lot of shit about being one of those bi motherfuckers and going on at length about how fucked up we are, and I got a chance to stop him and ask, “How do you know? Have you ever gotten involved with a bisexual to know these things for a fact?”

What he knew was… the bullshit everyone tends to hear about bisexuals. I said, “Oh, so you have no real point of reference to base your opinion on? Isn’t that interesting! You’d rather believe what someone else said about guys like me than to find out for yourself? And you think that I’m the one who’s all fucked up?”

Oh, he not only had a fit, but he had a couple of them and… I just watched him have them and with great clinical interest because he was teaching me something important. What was even funnier about this is that despite all the fussing and fuming he was doing, he still… wanted to give me a blowjob.

Go figure and, yeah, I wanted to know why so I could understand. Ideology is one thing but, um, when you’re horny, well. He said (after he blew me) that he wouldn’t dare be in a relationship with me, so I’d better be clear that this was sex only and… I just smiled because no one in their right mind gets into a relationship with someone who doesn’t want to be in a relationship with you… as far as I know. He declared that… I was good enough to have sex with and nothing more than that; it was a sentiment that I’ve had women tell me, too, so, hmm, a lot of… the dumb shit isn’t so much about sexuality as it is about having sex and under a premise I learned and learned to understand:

If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter… and I won’t tell if you won’t. Bisexuality is more than sex because, duh, people are more than the sexual objects nature designed us to be. Understanding one day that I, as a bisexual man, am not different from anyone else because, just like everyone does, I get out of bed every day and I do… stuff and stuff that has nothing to do with my sexuality… but I also learned that we like to make differences when, perhaps, they shouldn’t exist.

And… I write about it because someone has to and minus the sugary bullshit.

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: 27 May 23, 1200 hours

Before I passed out last night, I remember seeing a tweet where someone was bitching about sex and bisexuality being so closely associated with each other and like sex is the only thing that bisexuals are interested in. I thought the tweeter was… naive because the “sex” part of bisexual is… part of the whole.

Not everyone can or wants to slide over to the other side and find out what having same-sex sex is like but, yeah. This. The thing that one might know about because, well, we know how homosexuals have sex. Knowing about it isn’t the same as indulging in it but I’ve been aware, for the longest time, about a… push to make bisexuality less about the sex and more about relationship stuff.

Or “hearts, not parts.” I clearly remember being told and taught that when it comes to girls, I should not just want to have sex with them and if I do, it’s because we’re in a relationship… and such as those things tended to be when you’re young and even more so when you start going to school, are very damned interested in girls and you could be her boyfriend this morning… and she’d be someone else’s girlfriend by lunch time. Having that awareness that while there were girls I wanted to be my girlfriend, there were many more I just wanted to have sex with but since this was iffy, it wasn’t that much of a problem because there was always a guy who’d want to have sex.

And it could be pretty damned good. “Nasty” and in that way that’s actually a good thing. That indescribable thrill of doing something that you know good and damned well that you’re not ever supposed to do and for any reason… because there are girls who’ll let you get at them and happily so. Which was all well and good if you could convince her to give you some, right? Right. I would say that I had… less problems with this than a lot of the guys I knew and hung around with and, yep, had sex with “quite a few” of them.

I grew up learning how… weird we can be about having sex. Learning that there are rules that are to be followed that mandate who you can have sex and under some specific conditions and, well, okay… but I’d already found out that the rules were bullshit because while guys are supposed to only have sex with girls, yeah, the people who made these rules assumed that you could hit on a female for sex and she’s just gonna give it up and that’s because it’s what she’s supposed to do… but women, back in those days, didn’t have a lot of value and, yeah, you could buy a wife for the price of a couple of goats, four sheep, and a decent oxen or two. I understood that because women were treated as chattel, that… changed a lot of shit with them and more so when they put their foot down and decreed that they had more value than someone to use as a cum dump and baby-making machine.

You either learn to understand why women are the way they are about sex and you accept it as-is… or you don’t and chances are that your chances to get between their legs will be severely limited – there’s a reason why we call it “getting lucky.” So, yeah, the alternative was to… have sex with a guy. Masturbating is a fun thing to do if not inherently… messy but there are times when you can spend the whole day jerking off and… it’s not all that satisfying… but if you were to actually have some kind of sex with someone, yeah – that’s the ticket but… yeah, girls. But if you didn’t mind – and you were desperate and not of a mind to suffer another painful bout of blue balls – um, shit, doing something with a guy was “better than nothing” and a lot of guys found that it’s way better than nothing and, really, what’s all the fuss about guys getting busy with each other because, on the whole, it’s not that bad!

And give that us guys are hard-wired to want to have sex, um, having sex with another guy… takes care of that need. Can be very damned scary at first but if you can get used to it – and as long as nobody else finds out that you’re doing it with a guy – yeah, it just works and more so when, usually, you didn’t have to go through all that stuff that girls required and demanded before you could even touch her goodies, let alone do anything else. And if you weren’t willing to meet their demands, you weren’t getting any pussy. When you consider that, in my generation, we were told and taught not to display any emotion that could be seen as being weak and that included… being pussy-whipped. Wrapped around a girl’s finger and, essentially, enslaved to her and girls knew that their pussies gave them great power over us and they weren’t afraid to wield it and not always in a nice way.

Not that us guys were saints, mind you. But as I’ve written so many times, you stood a better chance of getting a blowjob from a guy than you did convincing a girl that it’d be okay if she’d let you fuck her. The… same result without all the muss and fuss. A lot of guys mindfucking themselves into believing that if they did something with a guy, um, it’s not really gay because it wasn’t like we were gonna be real boyfriends. It remained true that if you couldn’t convince a girl to give you some, your options were severely limited and, hmm, I wonder what it’s like to do it with a guy? You hear… stuff about it and especially being fucked in the ass and ew and ouch, right?

An “innate” understanding that you can have sex with a guy and still be “the man” in this deal but, hmm, “being the girl…” might be fun, too, and I firmly believe that we innately understood that one of us had to be the girl and, yeah, we could take turns being the girl. Sucking a guy’s dick… wasn’t that bad, well, until guys got smacked upside the head with puberty and could ejaculate but that… wasn’t really that bad if you could get past how it tasted and felt in your mouth. Having a guy squeezing it in your ass was, okay, yeah – it does hurt but, hmm, if you relax and all that, it gets to feel good and weirdly good when he cums in you.

And if this is what you had to do to take care of that persistent need to have sex, well, okay… as long as no one else finds out that you did and now you’re like those faggots and sissies that we were told were the worst people who were ever born. And, yeah, finding out that having sex with a real-deal sissy… could be better than having sex with a girl since sissies acted like girls to begin with.

Despite what that tweeter said, sex and bisexuality has always been hand-in-hand. The more emotional and/or romantic aspects have never been off the table and, depending on some stuff, it could be just as good of a thing and… when you like someone like that, it just makes whatever sex you have… better. But you also didn’t have to like guys in the same way that gay dudes liked guys and, as I’ve said, you just had to like the guy enough to want to have sex with him and that made sense given that you weren’t likely to get busy with an enemy or someone you just didn’t like for some reason.

It’s okay to be able to get into your feelings with someone because, if nothing else, it’s just how you feel about them and whether they feel the same about you or not and there’s nothing you can do about the way you feel but when you’re a guy, well, yeah, that’s not where your feelings should be going and directed at and more so in a sexual way. The truth in this is that you don’t have to have the sex to be bisexual, but you also don’t have to be in a relationship in order to validate your bisexual thoughts and feelings. It’s about what you think and how you feel but the thing is that… we want to act on our feelings because there are some “rules” about what you’re supposed to do when you really, really like someone – but those rules don’t take into account or consideration that you can really, really like… another guy… and, yeah, enough that if sex was proposed, um, er, sure – why not?

I know bisexuals who have never taken the plunge and they don’t want or need to. The sex doesn’t define bisexuality… but it sure ain’t bad. If you can, you can and if you can’t, you can’t. It’s not rocket science and when you can strip away all of the social silliness, it’s not really all that complicated and, yeah, it’s okay to like girls one way and to like guys in a different way; a lot of bisexual men will tell you in a hurry that they love women for love, sex, and relationships and the like guys… for the sex and, at best, friendship. Nothing to see here as far as I’m concerned but these “modern bisexuals” have some… interesting notions about what bisexuality is and yeah, hearts should be the primary focus and the parts… somewhere down the list and way down there.

And that’s actually okay since this is how we are told and taught to go about interacting with each other in the opposite sex way of things and… nothing to see here but… sex. Yeah, buddy. “June Bug” asks me if he can suck my dick and… if I like him, I’m not going to say no and it’s just part of the deal for me to suck his dick. Likewise, for fucking but, yeah, stuff changes and all that and you learn what you like and don’t and all that good stuff and, yeah, it’s… just sex. You also learn that while you might not mind, there are many who do mind and, yeah, all that social/moral stuff that, again, bisexuality takes and… trashes the shit out of it and especially in the having sex department.

If you’re bisexual and not having the sex, well, okay… but if you are throwing it all down? It’s not the problem that I think people are making it out to be because… it’s just sex. It’s going to be whatever you want it to be or can make it. I mean, I can just have sex with a woman and more so if she’s not of a mind to be bothered with a relationship; we’re just scratching each other’s itches although, sure, if we find that we’re good at it, sure – the next time she needs that itch scratched, I might get another chance to scratch them for her and… nothing more than that. I’ll say that guys “used to” do things in this very NSA way but things change and, today, methinks that I’d have an easier time getting some pussy than I would getting some dick.

And if you have any idea of the way this used to be, you understand how… surprising this is. You would never, ever, hear me say that bisexuality shouldn’t be all about the sex… because I know that for many men and women, it is all about the sex and a form of intimacy that our morals don’t approve of… because getting laid feels pretty fucking good. I started to say something to the tweeter about… how fucking naive they are to imply that bisexuality shouldn’t be “sex-focused” because, um, duh, do you not know how bisexuals become bisexual? Almost all of the bisexual men and women I personally know became bisexual… because they had the sex and it just frigging worked for them but, then again, sex is supposed to work for us… right?

By implying or “insisting” that bisexuality shouldn’t be “all about the sex” is the same kind of slut shaming we’ve employed against having sex to begin with; being told who you can have sex with; being told when you’re allowed to have sex with someone; being told what you can do when you have sex with someone and what you can’t do. I learned that… this doesn’t work like they say it’s supposed to but if this tweeter is trying to invoke hearts over parts and at every turn, yeah, that’s some pretty naive shit and, methinks, they don’t know shit about the reality of things because it is not wrong to lust after someone’s parts; it’s not wrong to… um, fornicate even though it’s a sin and one that I’m pretty sure most of us have been guilty of and more than “a few times.”

If you carry some shame about your thoughts and feelings about having sex, well, that’s you. If you wanna do things the way they’re supposed to be done – and adjusted to accommodate your bisexuality – that’s you, too… but it ain’t all of us and it will never be all of us. I’m sure that what the tweeter tweeted is their take on things – it’s their opinion but from where I’m sitting, they’ve drank the Kool-Aid if they believe that the parts have less importance than the hearts and that the sex part of bisexuality shouldn’t garner so much attention and importance.

I’m thinking that person needs a serious wakeup call and pay more attention to the reality of things. Humans… love having sex; it is very damned important and in a lot of ways that, well, you should know this even if you, too, believe that hearts have more importance than partaking of the parts. It’s… okay to think about bisexuality having to be handled a certain way but the moment you start peeking between your fingers at the way it can be – and being weird about it – then, methinks, that’s a problem and more so when, on the whole, we’re weird about just having sex to begin with.

That person, ideally, should accept that for a lot of bisexuals, it is about the sex… but not without any understanding of the non-sexual aspects that comes with bisexuality, you know, if that’s how you’re feeling. Still, if I’m kicked back and watching the game with a guy and that… moment comes when, um, yeah, we can do something else while we’re watching the game, okay – I won’t mind if he doesn’t and more so when it’s very damned unlikely that I’d be there with him if he was someone I had reason not to like and in any way that means to me. At the root of it, it is… just sex. We both get our nuts busted and… back to watching the game and we both might act like… it never happened. Nothing to see here. Grown up boys being grow up boys and all that. If we… make this a thing between us, all well and good. A guy I consider to be a friend, um, needs some help? Sure, I’ll give him some help if he wants it and it’s… nothing more than that. Whatever happens after that – or doesn’t happen – will be… whatever it’s gonna be. It’s… better when you, bluntly, give a fuck about each other but parts before hearts… isn’t as evil as we believe it to be…

But it is very damned human. I get that we “want” bisexuality to follow heteronormative norms; I understand that they can if that’s how someone wants to go about things but to insinuate that all bisexuals have to play by these rules is… unrealistic and quite naive in my opinion. I know all too well the way it’s supposed to be and regardless to sexual orientation… but I also know how it can be, too.

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: 24 May 23, 1351 hours

Teenage Me is on my knees and sucking a guy’s cock and, yeah, fuck, this is so goddamned good! I’m into it, he’s into it and then he fucked it all up by saying, “Yeah… suck my dick like a good little girl…”

I was on my feet and swinging before I had realized that I’d moved. My fist connected with his nose and I heard it break. Of course, he’s shocked and stunned and asking me why I broke his nose and I told him, “I’m not a good little girl…” Yeah, I apologized to him but I kinda/sorta didn’t really mean it because he not only ruined what was a good thing, he had offended me.

Teenage Me had a major problem that I didn’t handle very well. I knew that if I was sucking a guy’s dick or he was fucking me, I was doing what girls did and Younger Me also knew this but, nah, I didn’t get offended behind it because while we might ask, “Do you wanna be the girl first or what?” that was, in my mind, very different from those moments as Teenage Me and guys…

Talking to me like I was female. Calling me honey, baby, and the worse, a bitch and the same shit I knew guys were saying to females while having sex with them and I knew because they’d tell me that one of the conditions for us having sex was… don’t even let the word “bitch” or “whore” come out of your mouth. I’d understood this but got to understand it better when guys started saying these things to me and… I didn’t like it one bit and I was quick to be… violent about it.

I’m sucking another guy and he says that I’m a good dick-sucking faggot and… he got an uppercut to the nuts and as hard as I could deliver it. He drops like a stone, and I was in a rage and he’s down and I’m of a mind to make sure he never gets up and… I stop myself. Yep, now he’s fighting mad and wants to know why I jacked him in the sack, and I said, “I’m not a faggot.”

He says that, okay, he said it but he knew I wasn’t a faggot and now I understand that, sometimes when one is caught up in the throes of sexual pleasure, they can say… shit; sometimes they meant what they said and sometimes… it just came out of their mouth. That guy says, “Yeah, you are one because only faggots suck dick!” and… the fight was on and blood was shed – more of his than mine. I go home and I’m bloodied, I know I have a black eye and my mom loses her shit and wants to know why I was fighting and I tell her the truth, well, part of it: “Some guy called me a faggot and I got offended and that’s what started the fight.”

I saw my mom trying not to laugh and that just pissed me off more than I already was but she says that she understands but being called a name isn’t a good reason to resort to violence and, of course, she was right. I’m in my room with an icepack on my eye and thinking that I need to learn how not to get upset hearing this shit when I’m having sex with a guy because if I can’t, well, it’s gonna be a problem. I had to learn the difference between talking dirty during sex and actually being intentionally denigrated and, going forward, fuck, it was often hard to tell the difference and, at the least, hearing a guy say, “You’re sucking my dick really good, baby…” would ruin the whole thing for me and keeping my temper in check was difficult.

I mean, duh, the guy obviously knows that I’m not a girl and that I’m not one of those flamboyant gay dudes. Yeah, when having sex with girls, they were baby and honey and sweetheart – but never, ever bitch or whore – and, indeed, some girls would get upset if they didn’t hear these… terms of endearment coming out of a guy’s mouth because if he didn’t say them, that meant that he really didn’t give a fuck about her. I’m eating a girl’s pussy and she shouts out, “Yeah – eat my pussy, bitch!” and… I don’t react to it other than to step up my efforts but the question was… why didn’t I get bent out of shape because she called me a bitch and, as an aside, what girl has been eating her pussy?

Everyone knew that only homos had sex with other dudes and some, if not most, homos acted like… bitches when you had sex with them so, obviously, a guy who sucked dick and got fucked was… a girly bitch and, as I would sometimes painfully learn, that was the reason why guys were saying such things to me. Understanding it – and to the extent I could – didn’t help with getting that “urge to kill” being called baby, honey, bitch, whore, faggot, sissy, so on and so forth… but a girl could call me baby and honey and… that was fine.

Okay – something’s not right here. My version of teenaged logic said that if I’m screwing “Patty” and she’s calling me all kinds of names – including motherfucker – and I’m not getting upset, then I shouldn’t get upset when a guy is doing the same thing… right? Yeah, let’s not and say we get upset anyway and I knew I had a major problem and didn’t know how I was going to handle it, let alone resolve it – but I knew that if I couldn’t, sex with guys was going to take a serious downward plunge.

Sure, it can just be something they say in the heat of the moment – but if what’s being said offends you, do you say or do something about it or… let them keep offending you? A girl slapped the shit out of me because we were fucking and energetically so and I got a very serious cramp in my foot and yelled, “Son of a bitch!” and she slapped me silly and said that she was nobody’s bitch – then apologized for it because all she heard was “bitch.”

Oops. Yet another guy says that, “Suck my dick good, bitch!” and… I realized that I was about to give his dick a biting he was never, ever, going to forget – and stopped myself. I’m still sucking him and I get him off but it stopped being fun for me the moment I heard what he said. He sucks me off and, well, he had noticed that my whole mood had changed while I was blowing him and asked if he did something wrong and I said, “I don’t like being called a bitch.” Okay, it… just came out of his mouth unbidden but, again, I had to be able to tell the difference between this and when a guy was really insulting me.

It took me a whole lot of years before (a) I could tell the difference and (b) to not let shit like this bother me one way or the other. Into the online years and a guy says, “You best believe that I’m gonna make you my bitch!” and my first thought was that he should be glad that we weren’t face-to-face and he said that and my other thoughts were all about the many ways I could… take him out. I broke the deal and, on one hand, it was a crying shame because negotiations were going well… until he said that.

I had learned to tell guys before the fact to not call me baby, honey, or a bitch because it offended me and most guys complied with my request but some guys let me know that if I’m doing shit that women are known to do, then the shoe fit as far as they’re concerned and the fucked up part was… they were right but I would still get offended. I back up a bit at this point and go back to having a gay boyfriend and one who hit me with all kinds of stuff coming out of his mouth when we had sex and including calling me a bitch quite a few times and… I wasn’t offended. He had asked me one night why I didn’t really talk that dirty to him – like calling him a bitch or a whore – and I said, “Because it’s offensive and I don’t think about you like that.”

“But I am both a bitch and a whore for you,” he had said. “It’s okay – if you call me that, I’m not offended.”

Yeah, it didn’t offend him, but it offended me just the same and even then, my problem persisted. How and why did I not get offended when he – or some woman – were calling me names and saying shit that, if some other dude said it, I’d be ready to punch his lights out? I was talking to another bi guy and we got to talking about this and he had the same problem that I did and he said, “Just don’t pay any attention to it!” Yeah, easier said than done because once you hear it, you can’t unhear it and if it’s something that offends you, um, how can you not hear it and react to it in some way?

I’d learned to, in those moments, just stop whatever was happening and tell the guy not to say those things to me and, one day, realizing that I sounded like… a whiny little bitch. Well, fuck me. Culturally, calling someone a bitch, well, don’t be calling anyone a bitch unless you’re trying to start a fight. Women didn’t like that – and, yeah, definitely and especially Black women – and I knew that I was conditioned not to let that word come out of my mouth even accidentally. Being confused because some women – and a few really gay men – demanded that I call them a bitch or a whore or a slut because… that’s exactly how they saw themselves and it was okay. No, really, it’s okay!

It’s hard to not be offended by something that offends you. My dilemma was both clear and confusing: Women and those really gay men could get away with this… but other guys couldn’t. I would realize that I had some internal dissonance going on. The facts and truths were that I did, indeed, suck dick and like women would and guys fucked me… and really no damned different from what I did with women and… guys who liked and wanted it like that. I would say that the intelligent parts of my brain could make all the “necessary connections” and, well, heat of the moment stuff more than a deliberate attempt to insult or demean but, sure, some guys were just assholes like that. Emotionally, it wasn’t clicking. A guy is screwing me and it’s good and comforting and he goes deep in me; he groans, I moan and he says, “Damn, your pussy is good!”

And I was instantly offended; I wanted to get him off me and beat that ass and… I didn’t. I “sacrificed” some satisfaction to concentrate on not being offended and it kinda/worked. He nuts in me, we’re groaning and all that and he apologizes for “implying” that I had a pussy like a girl but before he got with me, he had gotten with a woman and, welp, she had some good pussy. My intelligence could understand how this… stuck in his head and he didn’t really mean anything offensive, but it was a compliment. My emotions were having a fit; they wanted to rage and wage war over this “slight” and pissed off because my intelligence held those emotions at bay.

It’s well-known that when we’re having sex and seriously in the moment, there’s not telling what might come out of someone’s mouth, oh, like how this one woman yelled out some other guy’s name as she was cumming and, yeah – what the fuck, right? Oh, she knew she did it and, yeah, I was not happy about that but I would intelligently understand some stuff like, hmm, what really goes on in someone’s mind when they’re having sex? I had no idea who “Kenny” was but, yeah, if he could get her off and in spectacular fashion and I was doing the same thing to her, sure, I can see how that might work. Emotionally, I was having a fit because how dare you be thinking about some other dude when I’m having sex with you and then shouting out his name!

Yeah, I remember the one time I did that and, yeah, it did not go over well with the woman at all. I tried to explain it to her; she had, in fact, made me have a serious orgasm and just like the woman whose name I blurted out had… way back when I was a teenager. I think that little factoid was what saved me from having my skin flayed off me with a dull and rusty knife. I saw that, intelligently, she understood why but emotionally? Not so much. In those situations, I learned to not get offended; I’d just tell her – gently and with some humor added, “Um, I’m not him but I am glad that you’re enjoying yourself!”

Oops. Or another woman who called out another guy’s name and told “him” not to do that and, okay, whoever that guy was made a mistake with her and I just made the exact same mistake. I get it. What I still had a problem with was guys calling me baby and a bitch and since this was still bothering me, I had to find a way to make it stop bothering me because, again: It wasn’t like I didn’t know that anything could be said during sex. I mean, I’ve done it and, sometimes, totally unaware of what I said and, yup, said something the other person didn’t like.

At one point, such stuff rendered me… silent. I wouldn’t verbally express myself during sex because there was no telling what I might say. One day, a woman told me that while she enjoyed my intensity and focus, to her, if I was being verbal, that told her that I wasn’t enjoying her or sex at all… and that was a mistake even if it wasn’t the truth. We had sex again but this time she said, “Let me hear you…” and it was pretty fucking weird hearing myself being verbal but she was right: The sex felt… better – not that the first time was bad but I understood what she was saying. I’m being verbal, she’s hearing me and it’s doing some stuff to her and, well, I made this mistake… and you bet your ass that I won’t ever make it again.

And that’s when I stopped getting seriously pissy about hearing terms of endearment coming out of a guy’s mouth or, yeah, him shouting out, “Suck it, bitch!” I still don’t like being called a bitch – that’s always been a fighting word but with certain exceptions because there’s that familiar “bitch” and then there’s the “We getting ready to fight, bitch!” thing. One’s offensive, the other isn’t. A guy I’m sucking says, “Damn, baby, you are good at this!” and… it’s a compliment. “Suck that dick, bitch!” can also be a compliment albeit a somewhat backhanded one because, duh, homey knows that I’m not a female dog and I learned that I just… knew when it was meant to be offensive and insulting and when it was, just stop whatever’s going on and leave.

Yeah, I wish I had learned that when I was younger. But I think “everyone” kinda/maybe/sorta deals with, ah, verbalizations that doesn’t sit well with them when they’re having sex with someone. I had to intelligently learn about… context. I had to try to understand the male mind when they’re having sex and beginning with trying to understand what goes on in my head when I’m having sex with anyone – but being mindful (in the future) of not letting something come out of my mouth that could be offensive and insulting. It’s a… communication thing and one that is best employed before the fact but, sometimes, yeah, that doesn’t happen. Understanding that if something said was insulting, offensive, and/or demeaning, you didn’t have to put up with it and you either tell them to keep those words out of their mouth or… just leave. Thanks for fucking up what was a good thing… before your big mouth fucked it up.

I learned that once one’s inhibitions get put on the bench, yeah, you might hear some truths from the other person and, yeah, they said something, know that they did, but couldn’t stop it from coming out. My bad; no offense meant and I’m sorry; can we continue or are we done? And, of course, the price to be paid is… no more sex happening. Once the mood gets killed, it’s not easy to pick it up again and now I had a personal remit to not let the mood get killed – and to not let something that someone else might say kill the mood and my joy.

It’s not a true sexuality thing but there’s no debating or denying the fact that I had this problem because of what guys would say when having sex with me because, okay, are you blind? Do I look like a girl? No? Then why are you calling me a girl or acting like I’m your woman or some shit like that? If a woman, in the heat of the moment, can be very verbal and all that, why is that okay… but guys being verbal isn’t? Intelligently, this didn’t make sense to me but I’d eventually figure out – intelligently – that it was my emotions getting all pissy about things and, well, I had to do something about that. It’s okay – and even preferred – to get your emotions engaged during sex but if, by chance, your partner says something offensive, don’t fly off the handle and that’s exactly what your emotions are gonna make you do when your intelligence – and knowing that sex makes people say the damnedest things – should tell your emotion to chill and enjoy getting laid.

And you have zero control over someone else’s emotions. One of the things that got my attention was women saying that… men overthink sex. We do but for good reason and one of them happens to be not knowing what we can and can’t say to a woman when having sex. Do we think the same way when having sex with a guy? Good question, huh? I know that I’m mindful of not letting some stuff that may pop into my head come out of my mouth and especially stuff that I wouldn’t want to hear, oh, like… bitch or slut, not that being a slut is that bad of a thing but, again, you get it… programmed into your head that “slut” is bad and your hear a guy calling you a slut and your mind… ain’t happy about that but, hmm, is it not better to be “slutty” than to be a stick in the mud when you’re in bed with someone?

It’s about context and emotional response to a set of pre-programmed conditions and Teenage Me… did not react well or understood contextual stuff or that guys sometimes… just say shit when their dick is hard and it’s feeling good to them. There’s talking dirty and then there’s insulting someone and… you just gotta know which is which.

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: 23 May 23, 1343 hours

I’d say that between the ages of 25 and 35, I… enjoyed debating others about my bisexuality. I admit that I used to get quite the thrill shaking people up and exposing their hypocrisy about love, sex, and relationships. Yeah, it could’ve been viewed as a not-nice thing for me to do but during this time, I’d find myself around a lot of people who prided themselves on their knowledge of sexuality and… they weren’t even close to being right.

So to set the record straight, I would challenge their beliefs. Yep, that meant outing myself but I’d long since stopped giving a fuck about that and I wasn’t of a mind to be among people, hearing them bashing the shit out of bisexuals, and not get a word or a thousand in, not only in defense of my bisexual brothers and sisters but to also let them know that I’ve been around you all this time and… you didn’t know.

I heard a lot of the “Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve” bullshit; lots of misquoting the bible; even more personal opinions for which the person opining had no personal point of reference and believing that just because their cousin’s brother’s uncle’s girlfriend son was suspected of being bisexual, they knew all about that poor, greed, and confused dude… and I wanted them to know that they didn’t know jack shit.

I’m the real deal and it amazed me how fast some folks changed their opinion; it didn’t surprise me that some folks now looked at me with some degree of disgust, nor did it bother me all that much to hear people saying that I deceived and/or betrayed them because until that moment, they didn’t know that I was bisexual then, at times, getting pretty surly when I pointed out to them that how I have sex isn’t any of their business so why would I put that out there for general consumption?

One woman was pissed with me because we’d been having sex for a while; I let her rant, rave, cuss me out, all that “losing your shit” stuff and when I got to say something I asked her, “What makes what we did any different now that you know I’m bi? You and I agreed that we were amazing in bed together and just as amazing out of the bedroom but, okay, I see – now you know that I’ve slept with guys and now I’m not all that amazing, huh? You said that I lied to you by not telling you and that I tricked you but I’m sure you recall that when we met, you put a move on me and were pretty eager to get me in bed.”

“You should have told me,” she said.

“Would it have made a difference?” I asked. “I’ll tell you the same thing I’ve told others: I’m still the same person you met but you’re upset over something that you didn’t know about me until now but with the two of us, how many times did I find out stuff about you that you didn’t tell me that night… and beginning with you were married? You didn’t tell me – and not that it mattered – but you didn’t say a word about that; I had to find that out from one of your girl friends who had asked me if I knew that I was sleeping with a married woman.”

She… had nothing to say about that but as these things tended to go, she made something about me all about her. I was incredulous! She’s giving me shit about being bi but she was an adulteress, and I wasn’t the first guy who got to find out some stuff about her that her husband knew. “If I’m all kinds of wrong and fucked up, why aren’t you? If I didn’t give you a raft of shit about not telling me about your little secret, how do you justify giving me shit about not telling you my secret?”

And… crickets. She no longer wanted to see me because – get this – I was a liar and a cheat and I should have told her that I was gay. And if you’re scratching your head over that one, join the club. And would you be surprised that she called me one day and told me that she… needed me? I was.

I would be around people who’d climb up on their soap boxes and start pontificating about those fucked up motherfuckers who bats for both teams and like they really knew what they were talking about and, no, they really didn’t. Now, I didn’t always give them an attitude adjustment because I was… still gathering information about bisexuality and how it affects people – even if they weren’t bi – and taking note of what they were saying which was pretty much the same shit I’d heard growing up and understanding that there was something significant about those who’d repeat and rehash inaccurate information.

But when I did, I shook a lot of people up. I’d correct their misconceptions and point out to them that a lot of what they’re talking about concerns gay folks and, um, bisexuals aren’t homosexual and I’m surprised that you don’t seem to know or understand that not only are they two different words, but they also describe two different behaviors. Oh, how do I know? I know because I’m one of those fucked up motherfuckers you’ve been talking about. Yeah… ya didn’t know it was like that, did ya? Again, I admit to getting a thrill from seeing their shocked looks even though I’d already learned that some folks do not like having their beliefs fucked with and, ahem, proved wrong.

Then I’d lay some knowledge on them. Yeah, yeah, I know I don’t look like the type but, you see, I know “the type” means gay and I am most definitely not gay. Sometimes, I’ve had to tell people, “If you don’t know what you’re talking about, don’t say anything about it.” Were they entitled to their opinion? Sure, they were. But they were talking about how fucked up dudes were to go both ways and even more unkind things and whether I knew who they were talking about or not, they also were talking about me, too, and… you might want to sit down.

I’m into this discussion with a guy and it was both kinda funny and very much sad. He was shocked, of course, then I could smell the fear wafting off of him because… he thought that I was gonna make him have sex with me – that was the funny part as far as I was concerned. He went off the rails bashing the shit of those sissified gay motherfuckers and I stopped him and asked, “That’s all well and good – well, not really – but what does that have to do with me? Do I even look like a – what did you call them? – a sissified gay motherfucker? He allowed that I didn’t but I was faking at being straight and I said, “No, I’m not faking at being anything but I’m not as straight as you or anyone else believes that I am.”

Now I’ve betrayed him; said that if I had told him that I was one of those freaks, we wouldn’t have been friends and repeated that he wasn’t going to sleep with me. I laughed but cut it short so I could ask him what made him feel so betrayed? For me, it was a rhetorical question but, again, I was still very deep in a learning mode and I wanted to know why he felt the way he did… and I had to set him straight by telling him that I didn’t find him interesting enough to want to have sex with him but after hearing all that he had to say? If I were interested, I’m not now.

“God don’t like ugly,” he says to me.

“Yet here you are being ugly, too?” I asked. “Honestly, if anyone betrayed you, it wasn’t me: It was whoever told you a bunch of shit that isn’t as true as you think it is. The fucked-up part about this is that before I told you this, we were cool and tight… and now we aren’t? And all because of something you didn’t know about me and you gotta know that if you want to know why I didn’t say anything about this before now, all you gotta do is look at how you’re behaving because this is why you didn’t know.”

To his question of why the fuck would I have sex with a dude I said, “Because it’s sex – what other reason do I need? See, the difference between me and you is when I say that I love having sex, it’s not just with women and, please, don’t even ask me those questions about what I like more than the other – I like both. Am I greedy? You bet your ass I am because is there really such a thing as too much sex? It makes me sad because… I thought you were smarter than that and, in a way, I kinda feel betrayed, too.”

Um, nah, not really but I was trying to make a point. I had asked, “See, now you have me wondering about what there is about you that I probably should have known – but you didn’t tell me about; how do you think that makes me feel?”

“You don’t need to know every goddamned thing about me!” he said and rather angrily so and… I just looked at him. Waited to see if what he just said clicks in his head. And it did.

“I get it; it bothers you that I’m not what you thought I was but if there’s some shit about you that isn’t my business or anyone else’s, doesn’t it stand to reason that there’s some shit about me that falls into that same category? And I’ll remind you that I’m still the same person you met years ago… except you now know something about me that you didn’t know – and I had no reason to tell you… until now; until you started talking shit about something you don’t know anything about and, in the process, offending me with your homophobic bullshit. You don’t see me getting all bent out of shape, do you?”

In that ten-year period, I learned that people hear “bisexual” and think “homosexual” – and that fascinated the shit out of me. Yes, a lot of people were surprised, and they were… okay with it. Many thought it was both cool and pretty freaky. One woman said, “You nerdy motherfuckers are some freaky motherfuckers!” and I said, “Well, yeah, we can be – so can I hit that or what?” Many more were okay with my sexuality and with guys, they were cool… as long as I wasn’t trying to get in their pants. I was learning that true enough, some people hated me for being bisexual while totally overlooking the stated fact that, yeah, I will always love women and pussy… but getting some dick is pretty damned good, too. But many… didn’t give a shit about me being bi.

“Whatever floats your boat…” is something I heard a lot during that time. But the thing that stood out to me the most – and continues to do so – is how someone can take something about me… and make it all about them. Guys would freak the fuck out and assume that I’m going to seduce them; women, well, shit, I’d felt that a lot of their negative reactions was them acting like I was trespassing on their territory. Being told that I didn’t have to sleep with men because there were plenty of women who’d sleep with me.

“Oh, I know that… and you assume that I haven’t been sleeping with all the women I can, and you’d be wrong about that,” I said. “I find it interesting that you’re busting my ass because I know some shit about sex that you don’t believe in, but I still want to know why and how this is all about you.”

Hurt. Betrayed. Offended. I would learn that some folks would feel these things… but why? Many of them had a “hatred” for homosexuals and I knew that… this is how we’re taught to feel toward homosexuals. But I – and others like me – were a totally different critter and to wind up being disabused of their beliefs was, indeed, quite upsetting. I’d sometimes point out to them that if they’re feeling the way they are, well, so am I… but I guess my feelings don’t mean anything, do they?

I learned that when you give someone a dose of reality, it doesn’t sit well with them all that much. Okay, so I’m not the straight guy you think I am but, in actuality, I am… and not so much. I’m not gay but, yeah, I do love sucking dick more than anything else two guys can do. Another woman’s giving me da bizness about it and I asked her a question: “Do you remember when we first had sex and you asked me why I was so damned good at eating pussy?”

“Yeah, so what?” she asked.

“One of the reasons I’m good at it is…because I know how to suck dick,” I said. “Well, that and I immediately fell in love with eating pussy but in doing so, I learned that a woman’s clit is… very much like our dick and, yeah, I know the same thing about dicks that you do. But that makes me a bad person? All that shit you’re laying on me is… shit I’ve heard all of my life so you’re not telling me anything I haven’t heard before but, yeah, we were all good and shit until you found this out about me and now you’re feeling all hurt and betrayed and… I don’t understand why. Do you not see that I’m still the same person? No, I guess you don’t.”

“And if you’re wondering why I never told you about this from the start, it’s because I knew that if I did, this is how you were going to act,” I finished. “I knew that if I told you, I’d never get the chance to know you and, yeah, have sex with you – and I very much wanted to experience both of these things with you but if you think that you made a mistake, then I did, too, because I had no idea that you suffer from homophobia and like a lot of people do; if I had known that, yeah, it would have definitely changed my mind about being with you.”

Did it hurt my feelings? Yeah, but not really because when you go through this as many times as I’ve had to go through it, you just get… numb to it. You know what they’re going to say and, yeah, it’s all about them and how hurt, offended, and betrayed they feel and, importantly, not giving any fucks about how their reaction is doing the same things to me. I trusted you with my secret and this is how you repay my trust in you? Yeah, fuck you, too, since you want to be that way about it. Oh, that’s right: I did fuck you, didn’t I?

Sometimes, I learned that I wasn’t the only one with this secret and their homophobic rhetoric was a facade; a smokescreen they could hide behind. Getting into a friendly argument with a bisexual woman who firmly believed that her being bisexual was different from my being bisexual and… okay, how the hell does that work? Oh, yeah, the double standard I had learned about. Learning that, as odd as it may sound, more women were okay with me being bi than guys were. A guy is on the verge of getting violent because I confirmed something a friend of his had told him – and so much for “I won’t tell if you won’t” – and I’m asking him, bluntly, what me sucking his friend’s dick had to do with him and, oh, yeah, why is he fighting mad with me… but not his friend?

Come to find out that he was, honestly, about to wind up in the ER because… his friend “cheated” on him with me. Well, now – ain’t this interesting? “I’m thinking your energy would be better spent directing it at him because I didn’t know that you two were getting busy,” I had said. “Kinda doesn’t make sense that you’re pissed off at me over something I didn’t know about.”

“You should have asked him!” he said.

“And if I had, would it have changed anything?” I asked. “He wanted to blow me, and I was fine with it; we did it and I know I had fun with him and… that was that. But it doesn’t change the fact that I didn’t ask and he didn’t tell me that y’all were an item. Would it make you feel better if I apologized?”

Not that I was going to but if it avoided an unnecessary fight, then I would even if it really did make him feel better; still, if he was going to be pissed at someone, it should’ve been his lover – but all that really did was remind me that single people are held to the same standards of monogamy as married people are.

In those ten years, I really learned how… weird people can be about sex and sexuality and how bisexuals… seriously fucked with some people. We look and behave like any other straight person does… but we can have sex like we’re gay and, again, that seems to be the only thing those who don’t like us pays attention to. I would expose people and, yeah, it was a not-nice thing to do but I learned a lot of important things about the people in and out of my circles. What they thought; how they felt; what drove their bad view of bi- and homosexuals and, even more, what was at the root of their disbelief and their lack of understanding. I was learning that if you really wanted to know about someone, find out how they feel about sex and sexuality should the topic arise.

If nothing else, you find out who your real friends are. I found that no matter what they had to say about me being bi, it didn’t change anything about me. Yeah, I know I shouldn’t be like this, but I am like this and… what’s your point? I told one guy, “It’s not my fault that I don’t believe in something that you were made to believe. I would be… intrigued in those times when someone would vehemently object to my bisexuality and… I’d wind up having sex with them and, yeah, usually guys but, again, a lot of women were… indifferent about it and all they were concerned with was… can I satisfy them?

And, yeah, I’d sometimes get lucky because… I know what they don’t like about men, too. Been there, done that, dear heart. Some guys pay “lip service” when it comes to understand womanly angst toward me but I don’t because… I know like you do. Or the one woman who gave me so much shit about being bi and then… demanding that I prove to her that I’m not really gay.

Well, okay, if you insist. To some, I’m… fascinating. To others, I am what they have learned to hate and despise and in that ten-year period, I didn’t have a problem pushing peoples’ buttons to find out who I could associate with… and who I needed to avoid. Who my real friends were and who my enemies were. My very real friends… could look past my sexuality and as they should have done; my enemies, well, it was sad to see the way they behaved and knowing that, on the whole, it’s not really their fault:

It’s society’s fault and always has been. Our continued belief in something that has never been the truth of things and some still… foolishly believing that one is either straight or gay and can never really be both and even when the proof that should disabuse them of this is and has always been out there and in our collective faces all along.

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: 22 May 23, 1312 hours

I was washing my face and… a memory struck about the day I learned that if you could do something to a girl, you could do it to a guy, too. And, yeah, my brain just does shit like this that’s unrelated.

When it came to having sex with a guy, questions were asked, time and place were hashed out and once we’re there and the clothes come off, we got right to whatever we agreed to do and, well, foreplay – that thing that’s supposed to get girls all hot and bothered and ready to have sex – wasn’t a “known” thing between us guys unless you consider sucking a dick before it went in you foreplay.

Even back then, the majority of us were of a mind that girls needing – and demanding – lots of foreplay was, to use a more modern term – a necessary evil but one we didn’t need since all we really needed was to get hard and the rest would take care of itself. One day, I ran into a seriously nice guy and we talked; he asked The Question and my answer was yes, I’ve had sex with a guy before; he hit me with The Other Question and I said yes – I’d love to have sex with you.

We were closer to his home than mine, his parents weren’t home, and we were free to get it on. Once naked, we’re on his bed and feeling each other up; he tries to kiss me but I stop him because I’d learned that guys are lousy kissers. He wasn’t upset about that but he asked if he could kiss me everywhere else and, well, what is this about? I said he could and…

He proceeded to take me apart at the seams. In total, he made me cum three times. The first time he did, it was because he was licking, kissing, and gently sucking on my neck and once he found a spot on my neck that I didn’t even know existed, he worked it and whatever control I might have had went out the window and… my cum shot all over both of us.

“Mmm, that’s nice,” he said. He licked the cum off of me and licked, sucked, and kissed my nipples, my belly, my sides and bypassed my dick to suck on the inside of my thighs and kept going down until he got to my feet and… worked his way back up to my crotch. He looked up at me and… I didn’t feel like a deer in the headlights – I had already been run over by what was behind the headlights; he smiled and said, “You’re gonna love this…” and went down on me and, holy crap. That was also the first time I’d had my balls sucked and he took his own sweet time sucking me and… I came again.

It was exhilarating and embarrassing at the same time but I got my shit somewhat together and “obeyed” when he said, “Now, do to me what I did to you…” and I thought it was so weird to start doing the same stuff that I’d do with a girl but, okay, I know how to do that and while giving him oral attention from neck to belly button didn’t make him cum, it was clearly doing a number on him. I sucked his dick and… his balls, which was weird to do but I was also wondering why it never occurred to me to do this before.

Then he screwed me. Slowly and for a “very long time” and… it was something I wasn’t used to and before I felt him cumming inside of me, he had made me cum for a third time and that had never happened before and to add to the miasma of feelings that were still swamping me, he’d made me cum… and I wasn’t hard.

What the hell? We lay on the bed and cuddling; I felt so girly and slutty and my brain was trying to sort it all out but it was his turn to be screwed and, okay, this is going to be interesting because I was sure I wouldn’t be able to get it up after what he’d done to me but it only took him a couple of minutes of sucking me before I was ready to go. I wanted to go slow and like he’d done but he told me to go faster and harder; his bed was squeaking; the headboard was hitting the wall; he “felt” and sounded like the many girls I’d had sex with as he writhed and bucked under me; I could feel his erection between our bodies and, as such, I felt him when he came.

Strong and fast pulses; he’s moaning and writhing even more than before and I was having a slight problem staying in him and had to kinda hold him down so I could fuck into him faster and harder and like he was almost screaming for me to do and… I came for a fourth time. I collapsed onto him and he held me tightly, kissing my face, neck, and ears and telling me that he was so glad that he met me. I was glad I met him, too, but as we washed up and got dressed, I couldn’t… get over how he’d done me and how he’d made me feel and it “finally” clicked in my head that he did to me what I’d do to a girl and without giving it much thought.

That day changed a lot of stuff for me having sex with guys who, by the way, tend to not be used to getting the “full foreplay treatment” that’s separate from having their dick sucked so while a lot of guys weren’t having any of that – just get to the business at hand – there were guys who I’d do this to and, whew. For them and me. It wasn’t about trying to make them cum before getting to sucking them off although there were a couple of guys who did and I knew it made them feel… embarrassingly good and with emphasis on the “embarrassing” part because everyone knew that if you came too fast, that wasn’t a good thing and girls hated it with a passion.

Just as what happened to me that day – getting my head handed to me and being made to feel… feminine, for lack of a better word – I learned “the secret” of doing the same thing to guys who’d allow me to. I’d been with this one guy and before I got to his dick and balls, shit, you would have thought that I was peeling his skin off his body with a dull knife! He kept saying, “What is this shit? What is this shit?” and… I almost started laughing but got serious and got to sucking on his balls and… he came; I felt the warm wetness of his cum splashing on my face and on my braids (which kinda made me miffed thinking about having to get it out of my hair) and his whole body is shuddering in that classic electrocution way.

What made it “worse” for him was that even though he had came, he was still erect and… time to get to sucking! He tried to get away from me and it felt… powerful to have to restrain him as I got deep into sucking him. One of the things I would remember later was feeling the moment when… he surrendered and I only recognized it because… that’s what that guy made me do, too. I sucked him off and… he’s looking at me like I tried to kill him and I felt so much satisfaction seeing a look on his face that I was starting to see on a girl’s face; the woman who told me that if a woman isn’t looking at me like I tried to murder her after eating her pussy, I didn’t do it right and had to do it again and do it right.

And this guy is looking at me like that and… I shuddered to recall that I had that same look on my face just a week before and at the hands of a guy who knew something about a man’s body that I either really didn’t know or just didn’t pay any attention to. But the guy had seriously laid it on me and taught me how to… up my foreplay game with guys but, again, there weren’t that many opportunities to take a guy apart at the seams because, “traditionally,” the clothes came off, the dicks got hard, and got made soft again and without all the fussiness we had to go through with girls and their need to be seriously heated up for the sex to be good for them.

I mean, really – who knew you could do the same thing to a guy? Today, I’d say this: If you don’t know, now you know and I’m a tad bit embarrassed to admit that I didn’t know… but I learned. I had wondered what the difference was between making love and fucking and that fateful day, I learned what the difference was. Guys just wanted to fuck; girls wanted to be made love to but sometimes, they just wanted to be fucked and, my goodness – this was a lot more involved and interesting that I’d previously been aware of.

*I have an appointment, so I’ll be back; session is on hold at 1413 hours*

Okay, it’s 1652 hours and I’m back. Where was I?

I liked being made love to. Guys were, at best, barely adequate; most were clumsy at it, but I finally understood why: They hadn’t made the “girl connection” that I had wound up making. Was being made love to a hard requirement? I didn’t think so and Adult Me would, one day, really get into the differences between men and women as far as arousal goes: Men go from 0 to 60 in a flash and women… take a while to get to 60. I overheard two women talking and one woman was bashing some guy so bad that it hurt my feelings… and she wasn’t talking to or about me. She’d said that she that to tell him that just because he’s ready to go once his dick gets hard doesn’t mean she’s ready and her words had resonated with me because… it’s the truth. It’s just that if I can go from 0 to 60 in a flat skinny second, “redlining my speedometer” was proving to be quite interesting.

Except I’d been indoctrinated in the ways of what men are supposed to do and what women are supposed to do and… learning that they’re not really two different things. Read a lot of stuff about erogenous zones and, okay, that would explain why some girls didn’t want their neck messed with or certain other parts of their bodies because… it would stoke their fires; one such woman told me, “Uh-uh – don’t do that because we only fucking – we ain’t making love!” Confusing because I thought all women wanted to be made love to and because that’s what I was told but, okay. Yeah, get to messing with my neck and I’ll get unglued pretty quickly but I’m not afraid of it and, “worse,” I’m ticklish.

A guy I’m sucking dicks with tells me that he’s gonna make love to my penis, which almost had me laughing because, come on – who really says that? He tells me that I am most excellent at making love to his penis and I bite back the giggles again but it was a lesson in the difference between “just sucking a dick” and, yeah, making love to it. Which is fine but, again, not a lot of guys wanted to be bothered with the long, drawn-out process of making love to a dick; nope, they wanna get off, not quite ‘the sooner, the better’ but without a whole lot of muss and fuss. Women would want their pussies eaten and… made love to and, indeed their whole body from head to toe.

My second poly wife could… utterly destroy me, at will, and in no time flat. The first time she went looking for all of my buttons and found them was, holy shit to the highest degree and she had me making her neighbors think that it was her doing all the howling, screaming, and cursing and… it was me. Didn’t matter if she did her thing fast or slow; she… knew my body but, ahem, I knew some stuff, too, and let her know that she could be destroyed – and you’d better get me before I get you and, my friends, this wasn’t a joke or us playing around: This woman was scary in bed and I was really afraid of her because she knew how to undo me and reveled in it… and, well, isn’t that the way it’s supposed to be?

That guy did one hell of a number on me that day; he taught me a lot of stuff about (a) having sex with a guy and (b) my own damned body. It was, again, exhilarating and highly exciting and equally embarrassing because I realized that he was doing a lot of the same things to me that I strived to do with girls and… it just clicked.

And, importantly, it stuck. My boyfriend had told me one day, “I love the way you fuck me and I really love the way you make love to me and more so when I never know what you’re going to do!”

High praise coming from him and I did respond to that by saying, “I don’t know what I’m going to do until I do it…” but I understood… expectations. The differences between what a guy expects how this is going to go and how women see this in a very different way… sometimes. I gave myself a crash course in anatomy and, wow, really? The largest erogenous zone on the human body is… our skin? It explain a lot and more so when I could remember how that guy made me feel… messing with my rib cage area. Oh, my… I remember being with a woman and I look for and find her buttons and I’m messing with them on my way down to her pussy. I stop at her navel and got “obsessed” with it for some reason I still don’t understand but it was driving her crazy and… well, how about that?

During the first break, she’s looking at me with that look and asked, “How the hell did you make me cum so much by fucking with my belly button?”

And I just smiled because… damned if I knew but I was taught that when you find something that works, you keep working it until you’re made to stop working it and who knew belly buttons were like that? I didn’t… but I know it now. Fucking, as it sometimes turns out, is like putting the cherry on top because making love is a full body and emotional kind of thing and everyone has… a lot of skin. I remember sucking my first uncut dick which, all by itself, made things interesting for me but I had noticed that he had… nice nipples and I went after them and… had to kinda hold him down as I worked them over.

He later said, “Man, when you started fucking with my nipples, I almost came! Nobody’s ever done that to me!”

I know because I’d never had my nipples sucked until that guy had a field day with them and my second poly wife loved getting at my nipples so much that she almost bit one of them off – and I still have her teeth marks. I learned that day that if you really get into having sex, it can be all that and then some and not just “merely” being satisfying or, nah, it wasn’t all that much. To wrap this up, I remember working on getting into a woman’s panties and she was gonna let me get into them… and telling met that I’d better satisfy her and not make her regret it. I had learned – the hard way and as usual – that one huge problem that comes with having sex with women is that… they either don’t know what’s gonna put them on the ceiling or they don’t want you to know what things will do that and, well, it occurred to me that asking a woman what things she liked was better than having to fumble around trying to figure it out.

She says, “You’re a man – you’re supposed to know how to have sex and make love to me!” and I said, “I know how to have sex and make love… but what I don’t know is how to have sex and make love to you. If you’re not going to tell me so I can do those things – and you leave me to my own devices – there’s no telling how this is going to turn out.”

Her response was, “A girl’s gotta have and keep some secrets.” Okay, I got left to my own devices and I went… button hunting; I found the ones that would drive her crazy… because those were the places on her body that she didn’t want me messing with and I messed with them anyway. To her demand that I’d better “… eat this pussy like you mean it!” I ate that pussy like my life depended on it and then some and made her get that look on her face and… she didn’t want to be fucked.

“Who are you that you can do this to me?” she asked (and it wasn’t the first time a woman had asked me that) and I said, “I’m just a guy but when you leave me to my own devices and the things that I know, well…” If you’re not of a mind to tell me what’ll get you off, then I gotta find it and I will go looking for it because… it’s fun but it’s also terribly intimate and always with the understanding that whatever I might do… might not be good enough.

And learning that if you can do it to woman, you can do it to a man, too… if they’ll let you.

*session ends at 1805 hours*

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: 21 May 23, 1951 hours – Supplemental

And here I thought that I was done for the day and I would have been had it not been for something I saw on Twitter a few minutes ago and something that, in the teen years, annoyed the crap out of me:

Assuming that if I wanted to suck your dick, that meant that I also wanted to be fucked. Now, it wasn’t that I minded being fucked but I was learning that this is what guy expected to happen and that it had to happen as a matter of course. It didn’t help matters when the guys who were insisting on fucking me didn’t know what that was like. One guy said, “You’re a faggot and all faggots get fucked…”

And I punched him in the face for calling me a faggot and thinking that I wanted him in my ass when I’d made it clear that, sure, I’ll suck your dick. Even worse were the guys who say that, nope, that anal shit ain’t happening but “the next thing I know,” they’re trying to fuck me and… if I didn’t allow it, violence of some kind usually ensued. Yeah, I was aware of the potential for me to change my mind about being screwed but if I tell you that I don’t feel it, that’s what I mean and, once again, I had learned something that plagued many a girl.

I’m scrolling through Twitter and come across a clip of two Chinese men who are, at first, kissing – and I’m thinking about the many times a guy tried to kiss me because he thought that this was part of the deal – and, next, one guy’s sitting down and blowing the other guys and… some bad editing because the clip “glitches” and now the guy who was giving head is getting his south forty plowed and now I’m thinking – and not for the first time – that porn exaggerates shit and to the extent that some guys who watch it assumed or otherwise believes that this is how all guys who like sex with guys wants to do it.

Yeah, no – not always, and as I had to explain to a guy. We’ve agreed that we’re gonna blow each other but before we even get to talking about where and when, he asks, “But I am gonna get to fuck you, right?” He was unhappy because I said no and that prompted him to ask, “So what’s the purpose of you sucking my dick if I’m not gonna get to fuck you?”

And… yeah, some guys are just that dense. What part of, “No, I don’t want to be fucked…” isn’t understood? I’d been learning – the hard way, of course – that just because I didn’t mind being fucked meant that I always wanted to be fucked and that there’s this position in my mind and being “surrounded” by guys who felt that fucking me was mandatory and expected because that’s what guys like me – and read this as being a guy who sucks dick – is supposed to let happen.

Even my protege tends to tick me off because he assumes that if we ever meet in person, he’s going to be fucking me; I’ve asked him, “And if I don’t want to be fucked, then what?” and I can tell that the way he says, “It’s fine…” can mean that it’s not fine but, sigh, he’s got what I call that “top mentality” that I understand but experience has taught me not to like all that much and more so when the guy who wants to fuck me doesn’t always comprehend that… I’m not going to be the only one with a sore butthole.

I’m not a fan of guys who want to dish it out but can’t take it – but they expected me to take it and without complaint. I’m not really ranting about this, but I am writing down what was going through my mind once I saw that rather stereotypical clip. I more than get it: We have a thing about fucking. When it comes to being on the receiving end, you’re either okay with it or, ouch, ew, not so okay with it but let me get something straight: You mean to tell me that I have to be man enough to take your dick in my ass but you’re not man enough to take mine in yours? Help me out – how does this work?

And then, at times, having some fun watching him dealing with the questions. I found that being online, telling a guy who’s hellbent on fucking me this goes a long way to weed out the assholes. Let me get this straight: I’m supposed to respect your preferences… but you feel it’s okay to disrespect mine? And that’s exactly the case and situation sometimes. I actually watched that clip a couple of times not because of what I saw but what I didn’t see: The guy doing the fucking doing some cocksucking. Sometimes, you do see he who is about to fuck give the other guy some “token” sucking before insertion and “beating those cheeks up” and like that, alone, is gonna get the guy off. Having some interesting orgasms by having your prostate involved in the fucking is almost indescribable but, um, I wanna bust a nut, too, and sometimes, I want to make that happen by doing some fucking myself.

Or the bottom who got miffed at me because I didn’t want to fuck him… and, I dunno, like I was supposed to. I said, “Well, if I don’t get what I want, you don’t get what you want…” and he was even more miffed and I’m sure it didn’t help matters when I started laughing at how he was reacting. To me, this was simple: You let me suck that dick and get you to cum and I’ll fill your butt up with cum. Yeah, no, it really wasn’t according to him and then he said that this was what tops like me are supposed to do and I asked him, “What makes you think that I’m a top?”

Or that I even believe in that stuff… which I don’t. My usual “complaint” about people who just assume that if two guys are having sex with each other, they’re doing everything that can be done and… it should be done. A woman tells me that she want to get off by me eating her but she doesn’t want to be screwed; I learned that, sometimes, this is one of those “girl tricks” they’d pull because there were guys who wouldn’t eat pussy even with a loaded gun pressed to their head and the moment he said that he didn’t do that shit – or, as I heard one guy say, “I don’t eat fish!” – then that gave her yet another reason to tell the guy no.

Yeah, that one didn’t work on me because, sure, if that’s all you want me to do, lemme at it. Oh, don’t expect you to suck me? I didn’t expect that to begin with so no need for you to worry about it and, um, is dinner being served now? The important nuance that says if you wanna be screwed because you changed your mind, that’s fine… but when the “no entry” sign has been posted, any attempted violations will be dealt with harshly and no one gives a flying fuck about what you thought was supposed to happen… because that’s what you wanted to happen.

I got rid of a guy by telling him, “You’re gonna have to suck me off before you can get my ass…” and, man, The Flash couldn’t have disappeared faster than this guy did. It was pretty sad… and quite funny at the same time and more with those guys who’d go on and on about “real men” and what they’re supposed to do… and because they said so. Okay, if I let you try to break my ass because that’s what a real man is supposed to do, how come I don’t get a shot at trying to break yours? Does that imply that you’re not a real man or that I’m more of a man than you are?

I’ll be here all week – try the flounder.

One guy says that, shit, if I need to get off, I can get myself off; I propose that he get me off and, “preferably” with his mouth. Which he was opposed to and that included giving me the good old reach-around and I fake a sigh and say, “But I’m supposed to let you get off in my ass – is that right?”

According to him, that was right. Yes, I knew that things being equal in this went out the window a long time ago but, sometimes, it’s about the principle of the matter and having to get guys know that I, too, have a dick and I know how to use it and I want to use it but, okay, if you’re really that much of a chump, I guess we won’t be doing anything.

If we can’t get away with this with women, what makes some guys think they can get away with it with other guys? Again, I was there when women rose up and said that if we had to lick it before we could stick it and they did not mean one or two itty-bitty flicks of the tongue. No, they mean you eat that thang until they had enough and/or couldn’t take any more and they were adamant that if you didn’t “gorge” yourself on her taco, you could forget putting some meat in it and do not make the mistake of assuming that they’re kidding about that.

A woman asked me, “So, um, what if I wanted to fuck you with my vibrator?” She’s expecting me to freak the hell out and as a lot of guys are known to do but I said, “Okay – might be interesting!” Oh, my goodness – it sure as hell was! She admitted later that she didn’t think I’d go for it and I said, “Why wouldn’t I? You went along with me fucking you, didn’t you?”

“You’re kinda freaky and kinda weird,” she said.

Oh, you have no idea. We are taught and told to never assume anything but we do it anyway. Still, I wasn’t sure how “I want to suck you off” translated to “I want your dick in my ass!” or how a guy’s selective hearing just made him miss me saying that I wasn’t interested in anything anal. I could understand missing it the first time I said it but if I keep saying it, why are you still insisting on fucking me? And guys who truly believed that because I suck dick, that means I like being fucked and had to be and, oh, yeah, nothing more than that – let’s not forget about them. The arrogance… stupefied me in the teen years. Hearing guys saying that I was the one who had to be fucked because his dick was bigger than mine and, what, are we back in elementary school? And when mine was bigger? Do you think homey just bent over and grabbed his ankles? You know he didn’t and wasn’t going to!

Okay. When it’s us guys, somebody has to be “the girl.” Which means that if you’re the girl, you do all the cocksucking and you open wide so the dick can go in and… what do you mean you ain’t into being fucked? That’s the way it’s supposed to be! Or, in these modern times, me asking a guy, “If it’s okay for you to want it the way you want it, why is it wrong for me to want it the way I want it?”

And him saying, “That’s not how this works.” And me saying and asking him, “Oh, you’re going to be in for quite the surprise… but, tell me: How bad to do you want to fuck me?” And “getting my feelings hurt” because he didn’t want to that badly. Oh, woe is me! What am I to do? Yeah, I do have a weird sense of humor, huh? But this is serious business… right?

There was a moment in the online days where the dynamic changed. Guys would ask, “What are you into?” and this information was exchanged so that we could discover what we could agree to. Now, there are guys who don’t ask: They tell, order, command, demand and a few other adjectives (or are they adverbs?) that this is going to happen the way they want to and if it’s not the way you want it to, well, too bad – put on your big boy panties and do what I want to do anyway.

No wonder there are a lot of guys out there trying to find a tight asshole to fuck… and ain’t finding one. If you want to stand and defend your rights, do you really believe that other guys aren’t going to do the same thing? And shaking my head to see that there are still guys who believe that your only right is… to be face down/ass up for them because that’s what they prefer and to hell with your preferences. I get into it with a guy online because he’s not asking me if I’m into eating ass: He’s not only telling me that I will be eating his ass, but he’s telling me exactly how he expects me to do it and it is non-negotiable.

Oh, really? You got the wrong one, homey because, bluntly, you don’t have tits and a pussy so you don’t get to tell me what I’m gonna do or how I’m gonna do it and, yes, we do let women tell us that because… that’s the way it’s supposed to be. I’ll ask you again: Have I ever mentioned…?

If that’s your thing, then it is what it is… but don’t assume or presume that I don’t have my own thing I’d want to be in play, too. I was learning that tops… only see other guys as bottoms and bottoms have this… weird eyesight, too. Guys watch stereotypical kinds of porn and, well, yeah – that’s the way they wanna throw it down and assuming that other guys are just gonna go along with it, well, until they find out otherwise and making such assumptions – and no matter how you came to be making them is, in my opinion only, a mistake.

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: 21 May 23, 1440 hours

So, after yesterday’s rather dark thoughts, it’s like, whew. Such things should be talked about if we want society to understand male bisexuals and, methinks, shift their focus from what to why.

Short of true sexual assaults, yeah, one of the things you learn about guys is that we will say and do anything in order to have sex and, yes, not just to women. We learn to play games with each other that can easily turn into sexual moments from “Show Me Yours” to playing “House” or “Doctor” – well, um, yeah, that’s the kind of stuff we did back in the 1960s but variations of these seem to continue to exist and that makes sense to me since, as someone was kind enough to point out to me, every generation treats bisexuality like it’s something new and different and I’m old enough to be able to tell you that there’s nothing new about it.

I return to people saying, “I don’t know why dude gotta do that shit!” and making the erroneous assumption that if a dude is into having sex with dudes, he has to be gay and then into every sexual act that’s been forever associated with homosexual males. In a way, I understand why there are still people who hear “bisexual” and think “homosexual” but then can be, let’s say, a bit confused when they get told, “I love women; always have, always will.”

Ah, but as I’ve written a few times, I know a couple of gay men who love women, too, so in this, we see how the venerable and vaunted Kinsey Scale, well, validates itself because, in truth, human sexuality is very damned fluid and dynamic… but the “court of public opinion” isn’t all that aware of this and I’ve heard gay men say that once you’re gay, you will always be gay and, well, they’re only partially right about that.

And just like people are wrong to assume that only gay men are keen to have sex and/or be in a relationship with other men and, yup, bisexual men can be just as keen, too, and now the question tends to be… why and more so when there are moral rules that prohibit this behavior?

Because despite what’s said about us, men have feelings; we’re just not supposed to express them. We get taught a specific thing about attraction and we’ve all bought into it and live by it… right up to the moment when one finds themselves disabused of this very social norm and being disabused can happen at any time in one’s life. After finding out that I could fall in love with a guy, I had to go back and reexamine some stuff and was shocked to see that there were guys that I could have really been in love with or, at the very, very infatuated with them and, yup, quite sexual with them, too. This event in my life shook me to the core and more so when I realized that, yeah, there were some guys who I really liked and, gasp, not all that different from all the girls I really liked but I was supposed to be able to fall in love with them and, hopefully, them with me and… happily ever after and all that.

And it’s not as if this didn’t happen because it did but, uh, yeah, being sexually intimate with a guy is… pretty damned exciting. I would say that in the teen years, bi guys worked on this premise: Women are for love, sex, and relationships and guys are for… sex only; only gay dudes were into looking for love, sex, and relationships and since we weren’t gay – and sure as hell didn’t want to be, it was believed by many – including myself – that having ‘real feelings’ for a guy was impossible and couldn’t happen. My review of those early years of my life showed that… I was wrong about that and the only thing I could possibly say in my defense is that at the time, I didn’t know that I really had a lot of great affection for some guys; we were just really good friends and even if we never had sex… but we may have wanted to or perhaps not.

Like a lot of things in life, it depended on some stuff. So… I got hooked on dick. I had male friends who were hooked as well and some who either wanted to be just as hooked on it or they didn’t want to be… and got hooked on it, too. There were the guys who we’d do it with because… they were there so it was convenient. Then there were the guys we all liked doing it with and we’d drop whatever we were doing to do it with them; then there were the guys we wanted to do it with, but you had to be willing and able to ask them The Question and then hope they don’t say no to it or the Follow-up Question.

Some guys took to it like the proverbial ducks to water and some guys had to learn or decide that it was something they liked and, yeah, even if they were “conned” into doing it because this really wasn’t – or isn’t – as polite or ‘nice and neat’ as some may think and especially when puberty shows up and hyper-loads us with hormones that are just waiting to make their presence felt and known and… sex. The development of kid logic that strongly suggested that if a girl didn’t want to have sex, then having sex with a guy… just made sense and despite the taboo of it.

The first time I really kissed a girl, I almost passed out; was literally weak in the knees when I felt her tongue slip between my lips to give me the much talked about French kiss. And, um, yeah, the first time I was kissed by a boy and he slipped me some tongue? I almost passed out then, too, and I very much remember thinking that boys aren’t supposed to kiss each other but that’s a lie because I’m being kissed by a boy and I’m obviously excited by it because after the kiss broke – and we’re both trying to stay upright, he says, “You dick is hard… and so is mine!”

Well, we had to do something about that because we also find out about the very and much-dreaded “blue balls” once puberty gets locked in; the logic – and if you can really call it that – says that if your balls are hurting, then, if you have sex, they stop hurting and if you can’t have sex with a girl, having sex with a boy produces the same result. Yeah… myself and many of my male friends were all about chasing girls, catching them, getting their panties off and shooting our stuff in them but if we couldn’t do that, we could do that with each other and… with less hassles and as compared to what we had to go through trying to get those panties off of girls – and not counting the members of the Hot in the Ass gang but there were days when they were… unavailable and usually because other guys got to them first.

Not a problem. Let’s “sneak off” somewhere and do it with each other. Bored out of our minds? Ditto. I either like you or, gulp, really like you? We can do it if you want to… and I hope that you want to. And feeling some kind of way if/when the other guy didn’t want to but also learning that if you always give a woman a chance to change her mind, you also gave a guy the same chance. But the question remained: If there are girls who would be more than happy to have sex with you, why have sex with another boy?

Because… that’s just how things can be; it’s… what we can do and, as I would eventually learn, it’s what we’ve been doing all along because it’s in our nature to. Social norms and contracts and in concert with morality would prefer that we didn’t do this with each other; you’re a guy and 100% of your focus is to be on girls and… that’s not how it really works. Again, we were all given the goals and mandate to be all about love, sex, and relationships and above all else and… that’s not how it really works, either, because even with girls, there were girls who I’d kill someone to be her boyfriend and girls I… just wanted to have sex with. I’d like to say that I wasn’t of a mind to have a boyfriend – and in the same vein as having a girlfriend meant – but, sure, if me and some other guy liked each other enough to want to have sex, well, that worked, too, but also becoming aware that you really didn’t have to really like a guy to have sex with him and, besides, no one has sex with someone who they well and truly hate or despise.

Stranger things are known to happen, though, but that was the unwritten rule we all complied with. I don’t like you, we ain’t having sex and… that’s that. You can beg and plead and, yes, threaten and I’d rather get into a fight with you but, I would learn, I and the rest of us guys were being exposed to this by the many girls who wouldn’t have sex with us… because they had reason not to like us, either specifically or even generally because girls get told some stuff about boys and sex that was designed to make them not have sex. And, as such, many of us, now being left to our own devices and our hormones doing all kinds of “weird shit” to us, took the… path of least resistance: Having sex with a guy.

I remember being shocked and stunned to learn that way back in the past, boys were allowed to have sex with each other because it was considered to be lessons that we needed to learn when we became old enough to take a wife. And that such a practice continued in some societies and despite the spread of religion and in some flavor or another. You didn’t have to do it with a boy if you didn’t want to and, shit, hopefully, no one makes you do it but, yeah, sure, you could and maybe you’re very curious about it or get horny enough to and… as long as no one else found out about it and finding out early on that if someone did, here’s your “faggot label,” you sissy.

Being taught to hate, out of hand, homosexual guys. Homosexual is not only bad but seriously bad. Like you’re gonna die and go to hell bad. But, um, er, “Tommy” sucked my dick and made me shoot in his mouth and it felt just as wonderful as that time “Dorothy” did the exact same thing and… something’s not right here and I was one of those kids who became very aware of this lack of rightness right from the start. And now, I have questions. A lot of them. Probably too many for “my own good” and that I had no business even knowing to ask them. And, yeah, learning for myself and from others the good and bad things a guy will do just to have sex with you. So, say yes to the nice guys and say no to the bad guys and even if you wind up getting your ass kicked for saying no to them.

And, yeah, being… seduced. The parents of my generation were adamant that we were too young to know anything about sex and… man, were they wrong about that but, my, my, isn’t it interesting that they knew we’d figure it out? And in a way we’re not supposed to have sex? I thought so. Like I’ve said before, there were a lot of times when me and some guy should have gotten busted (and our hinies beaten) having sex with each other and… we didn’t. Hearing, “You boys better not be doing something you shouldn’t be doing!” and me being me, getting to wondering why they said this and specifically so and… oh, shit – they said it like that because they knew it was what we were doing! Kid logic got revised to say… as long as you don’t actually get caught doing it, it was “okay.” It really wasn’t, of course, but… kid logic.

Like that one time I was having sex with my white friend and his dad walked in right after we were done and… I almost passed out. Got the shock of my life having his dad tell me that he understands that boys will be boys and… no asses were beaten even though “technically,” we didn’t get caught in the act but… his dad knew what we were doing. Oh, and yeah, no – we weren’t being as slick and sneaky about it as we thought we were. Like the time a friend and I were having a grand time having sex with each other but immediately stopped because we heard his dad approaching and, later, I would think that he made a lot of noise to give us a chance to stop whatever we were doing – and how about that one?

His dad bursts into the room and gets on our case about making noise when we should be asleep and I did noticed that he… sniffed and more than once and, my friends, that’s the day and moment that I learned that sex has a smell to it and, uh-oh, the two of us reeked of it but, as I would later learn, our noses edited it out for the most part. I “intuitively” knew that we were about to get our asses badly beaten but that’s not what happened; his dad just told us to stop fucking around and take our asses to sleep and… I knew that he knew even when I didn’t know how he knew. If you think that we “stopped fucking around and took our asses to sleep,” well, you’d be wrong about that; we didn’t go to sleep until after we wore each other out.

Why? Because it was scary and fun and on top of… it felt good.

Sighing time. What I would learn was that boys had sex with boys… because it’s sex. It may or may not be about the inclusion of love and relationships and I opined that a friendship is… a kind of relationship but not like having a boyfriend or girlfriend and “going together” and all that nice and right stuff that we’re tasked to do. And… learning why girls didn’t like us a whole lot because we would do or say anything to get them to have sex with us. And if one of us abused a girl’s trust in this way, all of us are guilty of doing the same thing… and that exact same thing could happen between us guys, too.

A friend is telling me that he did it with one of his friends and a friend who, now, he’s mad with because he told the guy that he could screw him but don’t stick it in too far and… that’s exactly what his friend did. Another friend is telling me that he agreed to suck an older guy’s dick – a teenager – because the guy said that he wasn’t going to shoot in his mouth and… that’s exactly what the guy did and then claimed that it was an accident and he didn’t mean to which, of course, was a lie and a half because it wasn’t accidental, and he meant to. And, yes, I’d had that one pulled on me, too, but the difference for me was… I wanted him to shoot it in my mouth and I would get totally pissed off if he didn’t, accidentally or otherwise.

I would come to learn and understand that in order to understand someone who is bisexual or even homosexual, you have to be able to take off the rose-colored glasses and look at human sexuality for what it really is and how it can be and then see how morality and social norms… would prefer we not look at it this way. Understanding the double standard that says it’s okay for a woman to want to have sex with another woman – but as long as she’s not a lesbian – but it’s not okay for guys to have sex with other guys. Why? Because for one, guys can be total assholes when their dick gets hard and every fucked-up thing you’ve ever heard about how we treat women and, for another, girls find out about sex with each other in similar ways that boys do. Being dared to; being curious about it; being seduced and, yeah, they just really like each other so having sex with each other is no big deal and it’s fun, too. And, yes, some girls found out “the hard way” about having sex with another girl.

And, as such girls would tell me, if they did it with another girl, they couldn’t get in trouble, which was code for getting pregnant. Or like my older sister told me, “Do you really believe that when we have sleepovers, all we do is talk about y’all, clothes and doing each other’s hair?” And, yeah, I did believe that and felt pretty stupid because I damned well knew what us guys could get into having sleepovers.

And me being so OCD about learning all there was to learn revealing the hows and why bisexuality… fucks up everything we think we know or, really, it fucks up everything we’ve been told. There’s straight and there’s gay and then, there’s… us. Bisexuals. And learning that things aren’t really as static as it’s rumored to be and it’s seriously not a black or white thing. But we know what; we make a lot of assumptions about why and, yeah, if you go both ways, you’re either in denial of being gay or well on your way to being gay and, well, yeah, I’ve known that to happen to some folks but it’s more the “exception” than the rule our very prudish society prefers it to be.

I got introduced to sex with guys and, hell, yeah, I loved the shit out of it; I ran with it and I’m still running my ass off. Yes, indeed, I’ve had either my fair share or more than my fair share of sex with women and, really, exactly what I was told I was supposed to do in these things but… getting some dick is good, too, but it can be “bad,” too – but so can having sex with a woman. Sex, as it turns out, is some pretty risky business and, yeah, there’s a reason why the adults of my time proclaimed that sex was dirty and nasty… because it is and, more often than not, deliciously and satisfyingly so. And, sadly, sometimes not at all.

And the many people I’ve explained my bisexuality to and right along with everything I’ve learned to date, and they’ve said, “Yeah, but…” and here comes whatever they’re going to say and, usually, what they don’t believe in or wouldn’t do. Learning that if you say this, you’re telling me that you do and did understand what I said… but. Not everyone understands this, and I know why they don’t and there are those who understand and… there’s no “but” being expressed.

What makes a guy want to have sex with a guy? There are a lot of reasons why and, yeah, because it’s really just sex is a valid reason – we just don’t want to believe that it really is and assuming homosexuality when that’s not what’s really going on or assuming abuse when that’s not why a guy got turned onto – and turned out – over getting some dick… and right along with not giving up anything that has to do with women because us bi guys know for a fact that… pussy is not only good but it’s damned good and worth all of the hassles we have to go through to get it.

The shock and awe society tends to express over women who… love having sex and they may or may not be all that interesting in the love and relationship aspects that they, too, are supposed to be all and only about… and if they’re getting some pussy, too, well, mind your business. Don’t knock it until you try it and, yeah, try it – you just might like it. And the many people who tried it, didn’t like it but now they do; or the many people who say that they’d never do some shit like that because (a) they don’t believe in that shit and (b) there’s no reason to get into some shit like that and then, one day, um, guess what happened?

The… hubris that says and, perhaps, implies that a person can’t change their minds about such things when, um, they can and a lot of people do and if you want to know why – and you really want to know – ask them and, if you’re lucky, they just might tell you if you can be trusted and you don’t ever betray that trust. Bisexuality is just as much a part of life as everything else is; learning that homosexuals, when they said that they were born this way and had no choice in this, were… partially right. We’re all born to have the potential to be, well, whatever sexual orientation is going to work for us… but here comes the social conditioning that specifically mandates how we’re supposed to be… or else.

Homosexuality spat in the face of this and bisexuality… pardon me, but bisexuality shits all over everything because bisexuals aren’t exactly straight but not exactly gay and it’s not all about what… but all about why and every bisexual has a story about that. It has begged the question of whether or not experimenting in same sex things is… just for the young; if you’re an adult and you get it in your mind that checking out the other side might be a good thing – or you’re sure it will be and/or hope it will – is it experimenting… or is it exploring one’s sexual potential?

Why? I like to say, “Why the hell not?” but as you’ve been reading, it’s not really that simple. A guy says to me, “I don’t know what a dude gets out of having his dick sucked by another dude!” and I said, “Well, if you really want to know, I’d be happy to show you but if not, I can tell you for a fact that what you’d get out of it… is being able to bust a nut if nothing else.”

I’m sure he thought that I either didn’t know what I was talking about, or I was just plain crazy; now, did I want to blow him? Oh, hell, yeah, I did… because I was horny. Did he find out why? He most certainly did and, might I say, in spectacular fashion? Yeah, it messed with his head after the fact and we had a somewhat long talk about that but, come on, man – tell the truth: Was it really as bad as you thought it was and was told it was?

Because the truth is… it isn’t all that bad… but as you read yesterday, we can make it bad. As long as one believes this to be bad, for them, it’s always going to be bad… unless and/or until they find out that, um, shit, it’s not all that bad and the many guys I’ve heard say that “It’s better than nothing or jerking off…” and that’s because it really is… provided you don’t mind all that much.

It’s not what that carries the greater import: It’s why and the “simplest” explanation is… it’s sex. Anything else is gravy and dependent upon whether gravy is liked or even required. And the even simpler explanation is… because we’re human. It is not, as it’s being touted these days, about relationships; they cannot and do not ever define one’s sexuality and we have proven time and time and again that we are more than capable, able, and willing to have sex without a relationship and be ye male or female. It’s sex; it’s an intimacy that is unrivaled in our social interaction with each other and we have proven, time and time again, that we can be sexually intimate with someone – anyone – and if we want to or need to.

In things same sex, we’re not supposed to. And… how’s that been working? I’m still the very bisexual guy who continues to have the temerity to tell you some shit about being bisexual that you aren’t supposed to know since some of what we do is… homosexual. Not what but why. Both the biology involved as well as a lot of psychology. “The Matrix” movie references to taking the blue pill and continuing to live the illusion or taking the red pill – or, um, let’s just say having it placed in your mouth – and… find out how things really are.

The insanity I get to see on a daily basis where bisexuals can’t agree on what this is and how it’s supposed to be handled and, yeah, I know why and if you’ve been reading this blog, you know why, too, because I’ve gone out of my way to tell you why – and I did so in this blog, too. You don’t have to understand it, but you dare to read my blog, you can’t ever say that no one tried to explain this to you…