Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: 16 June 22

The guy, whose name isn’t important, had gotten us all lubed up and there I was, lying face-down on the bed and even noticed how my body automatically arranged itself so that he could enter me. I felt him get into position and there was that moment of anticipation running through me as I waited to feel the knob of his dick press against my hole.

He fitted himself against me and I thought, “Here it comes…” and gasped – either aloud or just in my head – as he pushed and his knob start spreading me open to facilitate his full entrance into me. It hurt… but it didn’t and as more of his dick worked its way into me, I thought about how… used to the moment I’d gotten over the years and, not for the first time, wondering why I was in this position to begin with.

It was a rhetorical question and one that got set aside as he started to fuck me. It didn’t take long before he had “beaten” me down flat and I could feel his weight upon me and hear his grunts, groans, curses, and whatever else he was saying right in my ear as he fucked me and now, I’m just waiting for him to get to the moment where he’s gonna cum inside of me. I should have been fully immersed in the feelings of him being and moving inside of me… but I wasn’t. Oh, indeed – he felt good inside of me and I “knew” that he would but where I should have been just and only in the moment, my mind was… wandering and I was even thinking ahead to the moment when it would be him under me and I knew he would be, too.

He’s whispering in my ear how good it feels for him to be inside of me; how “deliciously tight” I was and that he was going to cum in me and, oh, it feels so good to him and I’m glad that it does because I know that the more it feels good to him, the sooner he’s going go cum in me. I’m not just lying there; I’m grinding under him, using my muscles to squeeze him and I can even hear myself egging him on to fuck me and for him to give me his cum.

I can feel the tremors racing along his shaft; they’d started out small but were increasing and experience had taught me what they meant and now it was just a matter of time before… yes, there it is. I felt his dick expand inside of me, taking my already stretched-out muscles and stretching them out just a bit more. It felt good as he started fucking me harder and faster and…

He came. His groans were loud in my ear as he shoved himself into my hole as far as he could get it and I almost giggled because he sounded like he was dying. Feeling his dick pumping cum into me felt good and I squirmed under him trying to get every drop of his cum into me. He collapsed onto me and, whew, he was heavy and in that deadweight kind of way that wasn’t all that comfortable. He’s still trying to fuck me even though I could feel that his prick was getting soft and… yeah, there’s that moment when my body… expelled him and not unlike… well, let’s not mention that, shall we?

He rolled off of me and said, “Man, that was so good!” and my ego liked what he said even if my body didn’t so much. He’d said that I should hurry up and get inside of him and I knew he was right but now I have to… move while dealing with feeling my hole gaped open and his cum starting to flow out of me. Concentrate. He’s sucking me to renew the erection I’d lost at the moment he penetrated me and I loved the way his mouth felt on me and more so when he had proven to me that, yeah, he can suck a mean dick. But now I’m hard. Concentrate. Focus. He hands me the lube and I apply it to myself and listen to him moaning as my lubed-up finger slides easily into his hole and he’s already grinding against it.

He gets situated in… the missionary position and is holding his legs up and apart and I get right on in there and find his hole without having to be guided to it. I push… and we both gasp as the head of my dick passes into him easily and, my mind notes that, yeah, this isn’t his first rodeo any more than it was mine. As I slide into him, I barely hear him saying something about how huge I feel in him and I laugh in my head because I haven’t even gotten the fattest part of my dick in him yet and I’m looking at him and seeing the look on his face when I bury all of my dick into him. I take a moment to get really settled in and it’s with a purpose; those few seconds will give him time to adjust to me being inside of him and that’s always a good thing and more so when I know what it’s like to not have those few seconds.

He wraps me up with his arms and legs and pulls me down to him; he whispers in my ear, “Fuck me, daddy; give it all to me!” and, well, no, I’m not his daddy for real but I… understand his use of that word and I shove it aside and begin to fuck him. I’m in the moment but my mind is still wandering. I’m aware of what’s going on like how hot it is in the room despite the air conditioner running on high; I’m aware of how we both smell; funky but not dirty-funky and being aware that my nose and brain had edited out our combined scents some time ago but I’m noticing it again because I’m in a position to do so. I’m aware that my mind is thinking about anything other than my dick is in his ass so I issue a gag order that won’t be lifted until this is over and done with.

He’s fucking up against me, not quite in time with my thrusts into him and on a downward stroke, I could tell that I’d hit his prostate which, in this position, isn’t easy to do but I felt his body tense just the same because while that can feel good, it can also hurt like the dickens. He’s egging me on, telling me to do it harder and faster and I’m slamming myself into him as hard and fast as I can and without hurting myself in the process – it doesn’t feel good for your dick to get bent – but I manage to avoid that and… my mind shuts down because I’m close to cumming in him.

It’s a weird moment. I can feel it building up inside of me and it’s like something in my head is saying, “Do it, do it, come on, do it…” over and over and over and the moment arrives where I can’t “hear” this… but I can hear him gasp as my dick swells inside of him and… I cum. No matter how many times I’ve done this in my life, I’ve never really gotten used to it and being in that moment where nothing matters other than finishing the job of emptying my balls into him. It feels… glorious and, yes, there is a reason why the Japanese call this moment “the little death.” Primal and so much that I can hear myself growling as the pumping starts to slow down and now all that’s left are some little… twitches. I haven’t started to get soft yet and like he’d done to me, I’m slowly fucking into him again until I know I’m soft and I start to withdraw. I hear that obscene pop when the head of my dick is finally out, and I always found that to be… funny even though the situation is – was – anything but humorous.

I look down – and I don’t know why – and see him gaped open and my cum flowing out of him; and while I have no real thoughts about it, it feels… good to see it and I don’t know why it does and I don’t much care at this point because I’m hot, tired, sweaty and in a great need for a shower as well as a greater need to wash my ass because the whole time I was fucking him, most of his cum that had made its way out of me was making me feel… squishy back there and a feeling that I had to ignore… so I could make him feel squishy.

Funny how that works. I’m… sated and just looking at him tells me that he is, too. We shower together and play at doing it all over again but we both know that we don’t have the time to and more so when I know – and I’m sure he does as well, that when I get home, I am going to do this all over again with the wife who’s waiting for me to come home and do to her what he and I have just got finished doing to each other.

Just one moment of being male and bisexual. I remember driving home and my butt is, well, I’m not having a problem sitting down but, yeah, it feels weird and all that but my mind was on (1) going home and telling her how it all went and what he and I had done and (2) making love to her and not just because my “report” has made her horny; to me, it was like we’d have sex after either of us had a report to give and like we were… reclaiming our “property.” Reminding each other that even though someone else had had us, we still very much belonged to each other, and I had to admit that having sex with her after we’d been with someone else was… seriously good.

I knew that with her, eh, sometimes the sex we had after she’d been with someone else was to… console her because, yeah, she got done but not in a way that, in the end, she found to be satisfying but we both knew that I knew how to do that for her and, sometimes, I’d hear her saying, “This is your pussy and no one else can take care of it like you can…” So, yeah – reclaiming our “property” and a reminder that while we were free to have sex with anyone we wanted to, this was really about us more than it was about someone else and no matter how good the sex was with them.

I’d go suck dick with a guy and come home to report… and we’re comparing notes about his ability to suck dick or, if she’d been with a woman, whether or not she got eaten in an exemplary way or not. She would often ask me, “Is it different when you’re with a guy?” and, well, that wasn’t an easy question to answer. It was different but not so much and I felt that it was because having sex with a man wasn’t something anywhere close to being new to me so I’d often replay with, “No, it’s really not all that different if you don’t count that he’s a guy.”

In this experience, it was… interesting trying to tell her how I felt being fucked by him and, really, how can you describe what it really feels like? No, his dick wasn’t big or fat enough to give me reason to be concerned; did he do a good job of it? Well, I guess he did since he did the thing I’d wanted him to do: He came in me. No, it didn’t really take a long time and he didn’t “lose his mind” and fuck me in a way that I learned to not like: I despise being hammered.

One day, when we were talking about the state of our relationship, she asked me, “Have you ever felt like you were doing something with someone and wondering why you were?”

The question took me aback for a moment because that’s what I’d been thinking and feeling when I’d been with that guy. Like I wanted to be there and doing what we were doing… and, nah, not so much. Not so much going about things by rote so much but, yeah, sometimes, I would be having sex with someone and wondering why I am, but the answer was rather “simple:” Not only because I could but because I wanted to, but I didn’t have to but because I could and wanted to, well, hmm – isn’t this an interesting conundrum?

What “bothered” me was wondering if I’d feel this way if I weren’t bisexual… and I didn’t have an answer since, duh, I didn’t know what it was like to not be bisexual all that much. The two of us would have sex with other couples and those couples we knew we could be… bisexual with. It would be fun and satisfying but, again, not as good and satisfying when we’d have sex with each other after the others had gone home and, again, it would sometimes feel like we were reclaiming each other but I would come to realize that it wasn’t that as much as it was reminding each other what we meant to each other and that our love was strong and very much alive and well.

Remembering this moment and those days makes me… introspective. Because we were both bisexuals, it made being able to get laid… easier provided the other person was just like either of us were. We hadn’t placed any limits on what we could do or have done to us as long as it was okay and all that but being with that guy that day was something I had wanted to do but I still had that moment of wondering why I was about to get fucked. I do remember thinking about that moment and had more reason to when my next… external partner was a woman. Even though the sex I had with her was very good, I couldn’t escape that moment where I felt that I didn’t have to have sex with her, but I wanted to or, sometimes, I really didn’t but she did and, well, okay – let’s do this and hope we both find it to our liking.

There was a lesson learned because of this and her question: Just because you can do it doesn’t mean you have to. I learned (and as she had) that sometimes, just knowing that you could was… good enough. We both understood that we both had a sexual need that we couldn’t do anything about and that it was her need for this that precipitated where we’d found ourselves and more than my own need. Fine. But after being with that guy – and having sex with him was very good – did I really have to? Was the need to that… critical?

I would later learn that it was because once you get used to being bisexual and having sex with both men and women, there’s not much else that can compare to it and to not have sex in the same-sex way… didn’t make a lot of sense and more so when it was rare that I didn’t want to get some dick and in some way… because it was something I was so used to – having the need for it and taking care of it and not being all that surprised if “shit happened” and when I didn’t expect it to. Being with that guy was… planned. We talked about what we wanted to do and all that and, well, that’s what we did but I didn’t have to and that bothered me for a while because not having to made sense… and it didn’t.

I really wish I knew then what I know now. I would realize that I wouldn’t have done what I did with that guy if I really didn’t want to. I would realize, decades later, that having that thought about why I was doing this was just something in my head… fucking with me because, duh, if I hadn’t wanted to be fucked, I wouldn’t have gotten fucked. Period. I would realize, back in those days, that we weren’t doing what we were doing because we were dissatisfied with the sex we were having with each other because, duh, we’d been together for a very long time and we knew each other like no one else could know us. They could have sex with us and it could be all that and then some… but not as good as the sex we had with each other.

And that truth that we both needed and wanted sex in a way that we couldn’t provide for each other… but other people could and, um, sometimes, because they had the right equipment to satisfy that need or, as she would sometimes tell me, she’d sleep with a guy… just because. Sounds like a good idea and she admitted that she wanted to know if it would be… different because some other guy wasn’t me. That was one thing, but it was our individual bi sides that had us wondering if we really needed to have sex like that and it took us both a while to realize – and come to terms with – knowing that, yes, we needed to because if we didn’t, we wouldn’t have sex like that.

With that guy – and as far as she was concerned – it wasn’t if he did right by me so much as me being happy about being able to have sex with the guy… and that made sense. He did do right by me but other than having that “what am I doing here” thought, yeah, I was… happy. I remember telling her how he sucked my dick – what he did “right” and what I didn’t think he did “right” and she nodded and in a way that told me that, as soon as my report was finished, she was going to show me – and unnecessarily prove – that she knew how to suck my dick. Reclaiming her property and reminding me that this was her dick and just like her pussy was my pussy.

We could have sex with other people easily enough… but between us, we really had sex and I would, one day, realize that it was because we had amazing sex after the fact with someone else, it gave birth to the feeling that, nah, we don’t have to do this with anyone else… but because we could and wanted to, why not? She would regale me with being with a woman and it took me a while to not be… jealous because a woman could make love to her better than I could. At first, she would try to convince me that it wasn’t all that, but I knew her and like no one else could or did and I knew that she’d been with this woman or that one and they were rocking her world big time and she needed to stop faking the funk with me about this and tell me the truth; if someone rocked her world, tell me that they did and more so when she required – and pretty much demanded – me to be just as truthful.

It wasn’t so much about having our worlds rocked as much as… were we doing what we needed to do and what we needed to do was… grow. Individually and as a couple. She would chide me when I’d tell her that whoever I’d had sex with was “no big deal” because, well, it wasn’t. I was “too used” to having sex with men and women for me to infer… stuff. Like, she had asked me what I had expected from the guy I was with, and I honestly told her that I expected him to get his dick in me and fuck me until he came – what other expectations should I have had? Yes, and overall, having sex with him was very good and satisfied the need to have sex like that and… what else? Should there have been something else?

Going out and sucking a guy’s dick… wasn’t a big deal. I had no expectations other than this is what we were going to do and the other guy didn’t have “anything to prove” to me in that sense. It was… sex and sex that was all too familiar with me but what made it “different” is that we’d given each other permission to take our vows and… not so much throw them away but to modify them, not because we weren’t happy having sex with each other but we both needed sex in a way that we couldn’t give each other or, like I had told her, “When you want pussy, I don’t have one!”

I would, later, realize that I had shaken off the “last” of the rules we’re supposed to always abide by. Did I have to be under that guy and getting fucked and creamed? No – I didn’t have to be but I wanted to. Did I have to fuck this woman or that one? No, I didn’t have to, but I wanted to and, duh, she wanted me to, and I could without getting my ass kicked because that happened. I would, again, be having sex with another woman and wonder why I was because I didn’t need to since I had a woman at home that was more than happy to have sex with me… but I wanted to, she wanted me to, and that’s what we did because, again, why the hell not?

Just because you can doesn’t mean you have to but, um, sure – if that’s what you want to do, then do it and don’t read anything into it than wanting to have sex with someone and for “no other reason” than you could, you know, if you wanted to. All of this put a different “spin” on my bisexuality and in a way that I’m not sure I can explain. It showed me that, again, there’s having sex and then there’s having sex and the different was… meaning or, probably more accurate, purpose. I’d have sex with someone else and it wasn’t about getting into my feelings about them other than slaking my lust with them. It meant something but it didn’t mean anything because if I wanted meaning, I had a wife who having sex with meant everything.

I just kicked my ass because it took me a while to understand this and doing so, I thought, was made “difficult” because I was bisexual and, as such, I had two sources of input that I had to make sense of. That guy… fucked me really good and he took care of my need to have cum in my butt and, I didn’t mention it but I’d also gotten his cum in my stomach, too. The need was taken care of but as to why I was having sex with him? It was because I wanted and needed to but I didn’t have to in that sense that probably isn’t making much sense.

I would fully understand that sometimes, having sex only and really means… having sex. The joy and thrill of it and all those afterthoughts about it being good or not and sometimes saying that, yeah, maybe I shouldn’t have because I didn’t have to but, yeah, why not? I would later – and in the here and now – understand that if you don’t mind, it never matters and accepting the truth that with a man or a woman, I didn’t mind one bit because it was sex and if more… meaning showed up, well, that was something else to consider or whatever – but going into this agreement knowing that I could have sex with someone and there might be more meaning that just having sex… and I would be reminded that sex has the power to not only unlock other people, it could unlock me, too.

And I’m never going to say that I never got unlocked because I sure did but with that guy that day? I remained… locked. Just had sex with him and it meant nothing more than that. Yep, he, um, “unlocked” my booty hole with his dick but that was… different than having my feelings unlocked. If I hadn’t already had an “idea” that you can have sex with someone without it “meaning” anything – and then wondering why you’re doing it if it doesn’t “mean” anything, I got the full meaning of it. I mean, yeah, I knew it but now I really knew it which made us “reclaiming” each other… so very important because this… arrangement was about us as individuals but was very much about us as a couple.

Other people could have sex with us because we wanted them to but we both learned that just because you can, it doesn’t mean you have to, and this had an impact on my bisexuality and narrowing down the differences between wanting to and having to and that, sometimes, it’s just… sex with someone else.

Sighing. My thoughts today are… muddled. I wanted to get this out of my head because it got stuck in there for some reason. Those early days… changed me and more than my bisexuality had but I would feel that because being bisexual had me… wide open, it made things… easier to accept and to see and in ways that I probably wouldn’t have if I weren’t bisexual. You do it… because you want to. You do it… because you need to for some reason and that reason could be something – anything – beyond just getting laid and taking care of being horny.

That guy was giving it to me good and the answer to the question of why I was under him and getting nailed was… because I wanted him to nail me… but not so much because I had to because I “needed” it to be more than just sex… but that’s all it was. A final… lesson that drove home that the way it’s supposed to be is one thing and the way it can be is something else and the only… meaning is that it can be something else and anything more than that is gravy – and gravy that you might like and might not but that’s something else. I would realize that I didn’t expect that guy to do anything other than slide his dick into me and fuck me until he creamed me – and he did that.

Need taken care of and because it could be taken care of. Wondering why I was lying there waiting for him to get it into me… didn’t make sense because if I hadn’t wanted to be there, I wouldn’t have been there, and I would see and remember the many times I’d been under a guy and I hadn’t really wanted to be there… and therein lies a difference that I cannot explain… but y’all probably know exactly what I’m talking about.

Okay. I’m done not making sense.

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: One Day…

…five other guys and I had been out on the basketball court and deep into a 3-on-3 battle for basketball supremacy. That we were evenly matched just added to that need to soundly defeat each other for those most important bragging rights.

The games were energetic and everyone’s skill level was pushed to the next level; in the early goings, there was lots of trash talking and attempts to duplicate the eye-popping moves as seen by the very best NBA players but as the games got to be more serious, all you could hear was the sounds of the game: The squeak and scuff of sneakers on the asphalt-like surface; the sounds of heavy breathing and exertion along with a few choice curse words and, not all that often, someone calling a foul and, more often, someone being congratulated for a good shot or play.

The games finally ended with both teams winning three games – a stalemate and while no bragging rights were claimed, there was great camaraderie between us just the same along with promises of a different outcome the next time we played against each other. The six of us retired to my place, which was right across the street from the park and courts, to consume large quantities of water as well as washing off the salt crust and musky funk we all wore as badges of honor and a testimony of our hustle on the courts.

Predictably, the water was replaced first with beer, then with more stronger hairs of the dog and it didn’t take long for the six of us to develop a very nice buzz as I had music playing in the background and we talked about the highlights of the game played which included some after-the-game trash talking and some trash talkers getting clowned when their moment of basketball glory got stolen by a missed or blocked shot or some other basketball faux pax that saw the trash talker trying to save face while the rest of us laughed.

Also predictably – and given the state most of us were in – the topic of sex came up, from getting laid to dicks being sucked; nothing all that unusual about that given how much our collective testosterone levels had been raised during the games and were still so elevated that you could actually smell it in the room; a hot, musky and somewhat cloying scent that tickled the nose and caused dicks to stir. So when the conversation got to a tipping point, I wasn’t in the least bit surprised when one guy said, “Um, yo, you know, if we were to, ah, take care of things with each other, it wouldn’t a big deal, you know, if, um, um, y’all were okay with it?”

Four of the guys I knew would be more than okay with it but the fifth guy? I wasn’t sure about him; it wasn’t that he was unknown to any of us because we all knew him but my slightly buzzed brain dredged up the fact that this was the first time he’d come to my place after the games and, as such, hadn’t been aware or exposed to what was about to take place. Even as I heard him agree that “a little action would be nice right about now,” I could see he was… nervous? Excited? I couldn’t quite put my finger on what I was seeing as shirts and shorts came off to reveal very erect cocks and balls hanging low with heavy loads of unspent sperm.

The “new guy” looked… uncertain as we started to pair off; I could feel great anxiety starting to flow from him and thought that he only now realized that he’d agreed to something that he probably didn’t think was really going to happen. As one of the fellas settled in between my legs and lowered his head to my dick, I could see the new guy’s eyes go very wide and shuffling from side to side to see the other guys settling in to suck dick and before he realized that the guy he got “stuck” with had just swallowed his dick right down to his pubic bone… and the look on his face told me that he was going to be in trouble at some point but my view of him got blocked as I joined the guy sucking me on the floor and my vision was filled with his large, fat dick lowering itself to slide right into my open and welcoming mouth.

It was… a bit difficult for me to focus on what I was doing and what was being done to me because over the sounds of moans and groan and the “obscene” slurping that was the hallmark of cock sucking, I could hear him, could hear the… fear in his moaning as well as his rather weak attempts at refusing to take his “partner’s” dick into his mouth. I knew he was in trouble but there was nothing I could do to help him at the moment. I’d heard him saying that he couldn’t then I heard the unmistakable sound of a voice being muffled and silenced by a dick being inserted into a mouth; I was about to stop what I was doing (and what was deliciously being done to me) to intercede on his behalf when I noticed that his sounds of protest had changed to sounds of unexpected pleasure. Things were really heating up there on my living room floor; the two guys behind me and to my left had stopped the, ah, vigorous 69 they’d been in and in favor of asses being fucked and with both guys flip-flopping with each other like it was a marathon or something like that.

The dick in my mouth was growing harder and fatter; its owner displayed excellent coordination as he fucked into my mouth while never “missing a beat” as he continued to devour my hardness… then I heard and felt him grunt as his cock rapidly swelled and followed by a lot of pretty big gouts of cum and that nearly indescribable feeling of his dick pulsing in my mouth. He tasted… salty. A bit malty and boozy-sweet. I didn’t get to make any other “observations” because I was cumming and I got lost in the intensity of my release while being dimly aware of my partner’s fingers digging into my ass cheeks as he held me deep in his mouth and throat.

Then that moment of absolute clarity arrived and as my partner and I disengaged, I immediately looked to my right to see how the new guy was fairing and because, honestly, I’d forgotten about him. One look showed him on his back, his legs being held high and wide as his partner’s cock was being, well, slammed into him and, for a moment, I was greatly concerned but his eyes met mine and I saw that, at least for now, he was okay and even more so when he actually smiled at me.

If the six games of basketball we’d played were fierce and energetic, they just paled in comparison to how fiercely we went at each other as we pretty much wound up in a pile of hot and sweaty bodies. Dicks were sucked and no ass went unfucked before it was all said and done. And as if on cue, one by one, we all got cleaned up and guys got dressed and went on their way and with a promise to be on the courts bright and early the next day and it was only at that moment when I realized that it was dark outside and that meant we had been at this for hours. As I moved around the living room in all my naked glory to collect empty beer cans and the few bottles of vodka and whiskey that had been emptied, I realized that I wasn’t alone, that not every one had left… and the new guy was sitting there with a look on his face that told me that he was having a serious problem as he tried cope with what had happened and what he’d done.

Talking to him was… difficult and with me starting the discussion with, “If you weren’t okay with this, why didn’t you just leave? There would have been no shame in you begging off and you wouldn’t have been the first guy who’d begged off for some reason.”

“I started to but, shit, a part of me didn’t want to since, aw, man, you guys were obviously game for it,” he said and making it hard for me to hear him since he was talking to the floor between his feet.

“I saw you and you looked like you hadn’t believed that we were going to actually do this, huh?” I asked – and he confirmed it with a nod.

“I didn’t think y’all was really gonna do anything,” he said. “Then y’all got right into it and I was like ‘Oh shit’ and it was like I couldn’t move, couldn’t take my eyes off what I was seeing and then, um, shit, then homeboy was sucking my dick and…”

His voice trailed off and I felt… bad for him but said, “Okay, yeah, I know how you feel; you weren’t of a mind to get into it but once he started sucking you, a different story and all that and then it got even more different when he slid his dick into your mouth, right?”

He just nodded without saying anything.

“I think you were about to shit yourself or something being all caught up in this but you realized that, hmm, this ain’t all that bad, right?” I asked – and he just nodded.

“I saw him fucking you and, frankly, I was surprised myself,” I said. “But I’m thinking that you agreed to it but maybe didn’t really want to but, again, found out that it wasn’t all that bad.”

“Yeah, that covers it,” he said. “I feel… good but not really, like I just made the biggest mistake in my life but, shit, damn, that shit was good…”

“And now you’re trying to deal with it and that’s not easy but I’m gonna tell you not to kick your own ass about it. See, the rest of us? This wasn’t anything new and it usually happens after we play ball and get buzzed but, then again, we all knew that we’d be down for it because it wasn’t anything none of had never done before – and not necessarily with each other.”

“Yeah, you all looked like you knew what you were doing,” he said. “Man, I was scared but I wanted to do what everyone else was doing, ya know? But it was like now I was all up in it and I wanted to stop… but I couldn’t – that make any sense?”

“It does make sense,” I said with a sigh. “Shit hops off, you know you’re all horny and shit and your brain is screaming at you to haul ass but another part of you ain’t trying to move – I get it; I gotta apologize because I saw that you were in trouble but, um, I couldn’t get to you because, well, you know.”

“That’s okay,” he said – and finally looking up at me. “I just don’t know if I can handle what I did or how I’m supposed to handle it!”

“Start by understanding that no matter what you might have heard about this, it’s just sex and it’s really not that unusual for guys to get horny and decide that doing something about it now is better than doing something about it later and the rule is always what we do with each other doesn’t go any further than whoever’s there… and you gotta know that a lot of the fellas have been here after playing… and the same thing has happened and you’re not the first guy to get caught up in it, like, the guy you were with? I remember his first time and he was so upset that he barfed all over me as I was sucking his dick.”

“He did? Damn…” he said.

“Yeah, today was like his third time,” I said. “But you wouldn’t know it, right?”

“Nah but how many times was this for you?” he asked.

“This is old news to me,” I said. “As a matter of fact – and because I know it – no one that was here has more experience in this than I do.”

“No shit?” he asked. “But you’re not gay… are you?”

“Not even,” I said. “But I’m no stranger to getting some dick and now you aren’t, either. I just wanna make sure that you ain’t gonna lose your mind over this. I need you to understand that what happened doesn’t mean that you’re gay; all it means was that you got horny just like the rest of us did and, well, that got taken care of, didn’t it?”

“Yeah… and that’s the part that’s fucking with me,” he said. “I ain’t never done no shit like this before and, shit, it wasn’t all that bad but, shit, I dunno.”

“Yeah, quite a few of the fellas found out that it wasn’t as bad as they thought it was or would be,” I said. “It’s really okay but it’s going to take some time for you to digest all of this and it might not be easy and if it isn’t, just come on by and we’ll talk, okay?”

Two days later, he did stop by and when I saw him at my door, I knew why he was there and I also knew why we hadn’t seen him on the court for those two days. I let him in and we took seats in the living room; I saw him looking around and was sure he was remembering what he’d gotten himself into two days ago. I just sat and watched him, waiting to hear what he had to say.

“What if I wanted to do that shit again?” he asked and surprising me a little – that’s not what I’d expected to hear out of him first.

“Then you do,” I said. “Shit, everybody thinks this is some fucked up shit, that it means you gotta be gay and all that shit when, really, it’s just having sex and it really doesn’t mean anything more than that. I’m guessing that you’ve been thinking hard about it and you probably couldn’t find a reason to, um, hate yourself for it and had to admit that as weird as it was, you liked it and it was okay.”

“Yeah, something like that,” he said. “I just can’t get it out of my head, ya know?”

“Yeah, I do know,” I said. “It was very different; really scary but then not all that scary. Exciting as a motherfucker and there’s probably a part of you that is shocked and maybe even ashamed that you did some shit you knew you weren’t supposed to do… but another part that is happy as a motherfucker that you did so, no, I’m not really surprised that you might want to do it again – it happens with a lot of guys who experience this for the first time.

“Man, you know a lot of shit about this shit,” he said with a laugh – and that was a good sign.

“I should; I’ve been doing it for a long time,” I said. “And I’m not ashamed of it, either.”

“I don’t think I really am either,” he said. “Man, this is some shit to get your head around!”

We sat and talked about pretty much all of it; I could tell two things about him. The first was that he was okay with all that had happened and the other was… his dick was hard and, to be honest, mine wasn’t all that soft. I could very much remember how good it felt when I got to suck his dick and my sense of… disappointment that I wasn’t the one to suck that nut out of him – one of the other guys had literally picked me up and set me aside so he could take my place – and we had had a good laugh about that the next day. I was now thinking that if he wanted to do something, I wasn’t going to object and by the way he was now fidgeting in place, I was pretty sure he wanted to.

“So, um, um, if I said that I wouldn’t mind if we sucked each other off, you’d be okay with it?” he asked – and, hmm, how did I know he was gonna ask?

“Sure, why wouldn’t I be?” I asked. “The main thing is would you be okay with it. I understand that what happened the other day was a huge shock to your system but if there’s even the slightest hint that you’re really not okay with it then, no – I’m not gonna be okay with us doing that; I’ve seen it go really bad for some guys and since we’re cool and all that, I’d rather not see it go bad for you.”

“I’m okay – seriously,” he said. “So, um, can we do this?”

And we did it… twice. He wasn’t what I would have called “a natural” but what he lacked in skill, he made up with enthusiasm and, in a way, I envied him because he was discovering how pleasurable it was to suck dick and be sucked and a moment that was long behind me. It was… funny that he’d often stop to ask me if I thought he was doing it right and making me stop blowing him to tell him – and assure him – that he was doing it right… and he should just keep on doing it right. Sucking his dick was comfortable and I could take him deep and hold him easily. He tasted… good. Not all that salty and just a little sweet. I liked the way he gently thrust into my mouth and I was kinda laughing in my head as he tried to get the hang of the coordination that being in a 69 calls for or trying to keep sucking me when I was doing such a number on him that he’d often let go of me but, um, that was a “game” I was playing with him. I wanted him to lose it; I needed him to lose it and pump his nut into my mouth so I could swallow all of it… and he didn’t disappoint me one bit.

He took my nut with only a little difficulty and when we were resting and recharging he had said, “Man, um, yeah, swallowing that stuff takes a little something, don’t it?”

“Yeah, it does but the more you do it, the easier it gets and you don’t even think about it… unless his shit tastes nasty,” I had said.

“Yours doesn’t taste bad at all – did mine taste okay?” he asked.

“I didn’t spit it out so, yeah, it did,” I said and returning the compliment he’d payed me.

The first round was… frantic as we both gave into our hungers; the second one was a lot less frantic as we took our time sucking each other’s dick and balls and he even had the “nerve” to push a finger into me and two could play that game so I pushed a finger into him; I heard and felt him gasp – then he flooded my mouth with spunk and caught me off guard for a moment but I caught up with it, swallowing his load while gently fucking into his mouth until I gave up my pent-up load as well.

“Man, that was something,” he said. “Shit, if I had known this shit could feel this good, I’d have been all over it before now! Ya know what I mean?”

“Yeah – I’ve heard a lot of guys say the exact same thing,” I said. “You’re good, right?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” he said. “You gonna be on the court tomorrow?”

“Yep but it’s supposed to rain at some point,” I said. “But I’ll be there and the other guys probably will be, too.”

He’d left and I sat there thinking about what we’d done and feeling a little shitty that I didn’t tell him what the other guys had said about him. It wasn’t bad in any way but I think he might have been a little freaked out to know how much they enjoyed breaking him in and how disappointed they were that he hadn’t shown up for a couple of days… so they could get at him again. I’d decided that he’d find out at some point so telling him before he did, well, better to just let him find out how much the other guys enjoyed the shit out of him.

I felt… bad that he just got tossed into this and chided myself because I had assumed that he’d done something like this before and as the other guys had and to some extent but that look he had on his face as dicks started getting sucked told me that, shit, he was new to this and, at that moment, in trouble. It turned out well for him and that was a huge weight off of my mind both then and now. He was now “one of us,” men who weren’t gay (or even wanted to be) but being able to enjoy having sex with each other just the same and in the time-honored “boys being boys” way.

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: Wearing That Invisible Sign

Between, oh, 1975 and 1985 (or thereabouts), it seemed like I couldn’t go anywhere in the city without some guy hitting on me for sex and as if – and as the title says – I was wearing a sign that said, “If you wanna have sex with a dude, ask this guy right here!”

It was one thing being in the neighborhood and having quite a few of the guys being down with it and running into each other and, well, hmm, someone feels like doing something and it gets done. I knew those guys and in those “rare” occasions when a new like-minded guy moved into the area, the 411 would make the rounds about the guy and more so if he had a taste for male flesh and, eventually, introductions would be made, well, formally because if the word got out on the new guy, you already knew damned near everything about him already.

We had one known gay bar in the city – but it didn’t used to be until new owners took over and even I didn’t know it was a gay bar until, as a cab driver, I went there to pick up a fare, didn’t see them outside, and went inside to ask who called a cab… and got quite a surprise at all the gay men and women in there and having fun. I note this because, driving a cab, I spent a lot of time going in there to find a fare and not one time did I ever get hit on, well, not inside the bar anyway; once the fare was in my cab, that would often be a different story and even then it was more heavy flirting than anything else… most of the time. So, yeah, I’d expect some… stuff anytime I had to go there to pick up someone.

But I could be walking down the street, minding my own business and some guy I didn’t know would get to talking to me and asking, “Can I get that dick/ass?” and I’d politely tell them that, no, you can’t and move on; or I could be sitting in a bar having an after work drink… and either some guy would sit next to me and start hitting on me or I’d wind up with two or three drinks before me that I didn’t ask for then see that some guy sitting over there is raising his glass… and giving me that look that instantly told me that he wouldn’t mind one bit getting into my underwear… and that’s if he didn’t come on over and make his intentions known. Um, uh, most of the time, I was agreeable – after doing some quick fact finding but many more times, man – what the fuck is going on around here?

Do I have some kind of sign on me that only dudes who were into dick could see… and the sign let them know that, for a good time, ask me? Shit… I was at the unemployment office one day and the guy standing in line behind me leaned forward and whispered, “If you’re not doing anything after you get done here, can I get that dick? I’d love to blow you…” and I thought, “What the hell…?” and, being focused on why I was there, told him, “Thanks but I got other shit to do…” and because I really did… but I was almost constantly dumbfounded at the number of men – and not all of them gay – who just seemed to home in on me and not unlike that “gaydar” thing that eventually started being talked about.

I’d ask some guys, “Why me?” and they’d tell me that they just knew I’d be down for something and making me wonder if there was something about my body language that was “talking” to these guys without me knowing it… but it’s pretty weird trying to pay attention to your own body language, as it turns out. One guy said, “I liked the way you walked across the room…” and that was something I could pay attention to and more so when one guy said that there was something graceful and easy about the way I walked that told him that the two of us could do something if I were agreeable. I realized that I moved the way I did because of years of martial arts training and that quiet, economy of motion that you just learn… but I had a hard time figuring out how that would tell some guy that, yeah, if you’re looking for some action, just hit on me and forget all the other guys that might be in the immediate area.

I thought about all the guys on the forum who constantly complain about not being able to find a suitable guy or getting ghosted or stood up… and I think that they have no idea what it’s like to have men approaching them in “droves” and wanting to have sex with them. I think that given how things are, if that were to happen to a majority of them, they’d either run away as fast as their legs could carry them and probably after soiling themselves over having some strange dude giving them the indecent proposal; or they’re putting themselves in places where they can be seen and, hopefully, propositioned… and no one is giving them any nibbles.

I wish I had had that “problem.” It made me a little paranoid and more so when I just couldn’t figure out what it was about me that was telling guys that I liked dick… and I still don’t know. I remember sitting on my front steps one day and planning my job search for the next day and my thoughts got interrupted by a guy who just stopped and started talking to me; he had asked me what time it was and I told him but instead of him moving on, he, um, he wanted to suck my dick and when I asked him how he knew I’d be interested in such a thing he said, “I just know – can I get that dick? You won’t regret it!”

Well, um, I didn’t – but that’s not the point. Even the local guys would say that there was… something about me that just told them that I’d be down for it and even more with those guys looking for their first experience… but none of the fellas referred me to them. They all pretty much alluded to there being something about me that told them that not only would I hear them out but I’d give them that experience, not that I always did but, still. I’d eventually come to the conclusion that for some guys, I just was attractive to them and in some way or it’d be my good or bad luck to be in the right place at the right time and the guy making the proposal was looking to get with the first guy he saw.

Like one guy said, “No harm in asking, right?” and I guess he had a point although the “overall mood” of things would often say otherwise as stories of other guys getting hit on by dudes – and the resulting violent response – had been making the rounds for a while and I was beginning to get the idea that some of those guys who were protesting too much about getting hit on and saying no just might not have been telling the truth. I couldn’t quite figure out why some of those “protesters” would sometimes be talking to me about their protest and total objection to this kind of sex… but would be dropping hints that Stevie Wonder could see that, you know, if you wanted to, man, I wouldn’t tell anybody that we did. That I’d either “catch” the hint and we did something or I just sat there looking as clueless as possible also isn’t the point… as much as the point was that they were hitting on me and like they knew there was a chance they’d get lucky.

I remember talking to one of the women in the neighborhood about this and she laughed at me and said, “Well, yeah, there is… something about you that makes someone want to check you out because, um, I wouldn’t mind checking you out either.” When I asked why, she didn’t help matters any by replying with, “Why not? You’re a guy, ain’t you? You ain’t that bad looking!”

I guess not… but still. I got a lot of dick when I was younger because, well, we all pretty much wanted to get some and, more often than not, went out of our way to get into each other’s underwear and even when I’d make new friends in other parts of the city, well, a lot of those guys wanted to get some dick, too. It was “rare” that someone I didn’t know – or knew of – would approach me for sex and, at the very least, they lived maybe a block or two “outside” of my immediate neighborhood and, as such, someone I knew would know them. But what I was and had been running into? I felt that this was very different and, later, would understand that I was seeing a different “phase” of guys wanting to have sex with guys and one that was more… expansive than my youthful experiences had been able to prepare me for.

In one moment of just one day, I got hit on six times… just by walking five blocks. I’d seen five of those guys in the area before but never interacted with them except maybe seeing them on the basketball court and playing with or against them and that sixth guy, well, never saw him before and learned that he’d been canvassing the city looking for a guy he could have sex with… but that didn’t explain how and why he’d passed a lot of guys before he got to me but didn’t even speak to them as he passed… but he stopped me and asked me if I’d be interested in letting him fuck me and fucking him in return. I’d said, “No, thanks…” and kept on walking… but my “paranoia” was increasing and I even got to thinking that maybe one of the guy I was having sex with had “put the word” out on me – and I could neither confirm nor deny that this happened but I just couldn’t really explain why I seemed to have that sign on me.

I remember talking to one of the fellas who was kinda complaining about needing some “fresh meat” to have fun with but he wasn’t finding it and I told him that all he had to do was get out of our neighborhood and he might be surprised at how many dudes would run up on him and hit on him… because that’s what was happening to me… a lot. I saw him a couple of days later and he had said, “Man, you were right! I was downtown taking care of something and like ten guys rolled up on me and wanted to know if we could do something!”

It didn’t seem to matter what ethnicity the guys on the prowl was; it was like the “whole rainbow” just knew for a fact that for a good time, just ask me but, really, just ask any guy and it got me thinking about why there were so many men – and men who weren’t gay – looking for dick. One thing that came to mind was that the job market was hard to break into and Reaganomics had done a number on a lot of inner city men and their ability to get work, leaving them stressed and even more so when, if they had a woman, they wouldn’t have her very long with him not having a steady job and that steady paycheck that was better than the minimum wage at the time. I’d thought back to the early days when us guys would be sitting around with nothing productive to do… and having sex just made sense so maybe, given the conditions and other contributing factors, this is what I was really seeing and it was just my dumb luck to keep winding up as a potential sex partner.

Maybe I really didn’t have “that sign” on me but what was going on was just a sign of the times and, again, one that my youthful experiences didn’t really prepare me for all that much but, hmm, maybe it really did and I just wasn’t paying any attention to it. It’s hard for some guys today to believe this since being randomly hit on doesn’t happen all that much if at all; I can’t remember the last time some guy I didn’t know propositioned me but I’m sure it was in the late 1980s/early 1990s. After that time, if I got hit on, it was by someone I knew… and didn’t know they were even into it or, sometimes, I suspected their intent because if I hadn’t been paying a whole lot of attention before, I was now and, yeah, how ’bout that: I could just look at a guy and know that he was down with getting some dick and had no idea how I knew other than that “gaydar” thing that had really taken off. I didn’t really believe in that but since I didn’t have any other explanation for being able to see “signs” on other guys, it worked. If a guy I knew came to me and asked if he could talk to me about something, there was a good chance I’d know what that “something” was before he even got to it because he was wearing a sign just like I was. Sometimes I’d hear the expected something but from a guy who wasn’t wearing one or he hadn’t gotten his sign yet but “wanted to” since it would be his first time… but there was still the mystery of why me? I couldn’t have been the only guy these guys knew!

But I’d gotten used to it. There wasn’t the… rush to get some dick at there had been just a few short years earlier and I’m sure the HIV threat was responsible for the sharp decline and, as such, the push was more toward the devil you knew than it was toward the one you didn’t… still didn’t give me a “definitive” answer as to why a guy I knew would just know he could talk to me about getting some dick… and asking if I’d be interested. More like the “adult version” of boys being boys. How some guys just gave off “signals” that just told you that if you asked them nicely, you just might be able to get into their underwear… and I happened to be one of those guys who gave off those signals and unintentionally so; I’d see a lot of guys who pretty much did everything except come right out and let “everyone” know that they liked dick… and it was funny watching them trying to get another guy’s attention; sometimes it worked for them and sometimes all that happened was the people around him wondering if he was gay.

As an adult, I can probably count the number of times I actually asked a guy if I can get his dick on both hands and maybe one foot… because I didn’t have to ask and that’s because, invariably, some guy would come along and make me an offer and especially when I wasn’t looking for any offers; when I would be looking, I’d consistently come up empty handed so… I stopped looking. Because some interested guy will somehow see I’m wearing a sign and make me an offer and now it’s all about whether I accept it or not. If that period of time taught me anything, it was that if you wanted to get some dick – or wanted someone to give you some – just be where other men can see you… and that can be literally anywhere. I went to the bank one day and the guy behind me whispered, “You have a nice ass…” and when I turned to look at him, he just smiled and gave me that look that clearly said he wouldn’t mind seeing my naked ass. You get to understand that if there’s a guy staring at your crotch – and acting like he’s not staring at it – yep, if he gets up the nerve, he’s gonna ask if he can play with what the clothes aren’t so much hiding.

Like the guy who kinda/sorta hit on me and his reason for it was, “You have a nice print in those pants!” He wasn’t hitting on me – just complimenting on the niceness of the print in my pants and like I really believed that he was just paying me a compliment… because I didn’t. I just thanked him for the compliment but now he got my attention and I wanted to see how long it was going to take him to make me an indecent proposal. He never got the chance to because his wife snatched him up and they left the event I’d been attending… but still.

You wanna get some dick? Just be where other men can see you and be approachable. Yeah, be on guard at all times because it is better to be safe than sorry and while you might not be of a mind to do anything “right there and then,” there’s nothing saying that the conversation can’t continue until both of you feel comfortable enough to do something together. Alas, so many men are, bluntly, scared shitless to find themselves having their sign noticed; they’d rather rely on the very dubious apps that are more work than the result may be worth or they’re just sitting on their asses and doing nothing toward getting the dick they say that they want and need. I can do something as innocuous as going to the market… and there will almost always be that one guy checking me out… and I tend to act like I don’t know that they are but, yeah, I’ve already checked them out to see if they’re wearing a sign, too. Sometimes you can just feel that someone is looking at you and it’s not a passing glance and I’ve felt it – and in a lot of places – and when I’ve turned to look to see who’s giving me this feeling, yep, that guy over there in the red shirt and jeans just looked away real quick… and he’s wearing a sign.

I might be wearing one… but I’m not the only one…

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: Influenced

I was hanging out with a guy and we’d been shooting the breeze and getting caught up with each other when he changed the subject by saying, “Do you mind if I put on some porn?”

I shrugged and said, “Your house, your rules…” even though, at this time, I was very mindful of how… “fake” porn was with its annoying dialogs and equally annoying music.

He grins like he stole something and rushed to pop a tape into the VCR and made it a point to sit on the soft next to me but, you know, not right next to me. He’s giddy telling me about how he’d hear about this particular tape and that he just had to get it… and I gave myself a headache trying not to roll my eyes.

The flick starts and, shit, he’s got the volume turned up to very loud and he’s squirming in anticipation; it gets through the corny scenario and dialog (and making me wonder if shit really happened like that and probably not) and the very well hung guy is standing there with the petite and pretty girl sucking on his huge dick (which looks bigger than it probably really was because he’s a big guy and she’s really tiny and it’s a trick porn uses) and, admittedly, she’s doing a great job taking much of him in her mouth. I look over at him and his pants are tented and, to be truthful, I had a tent of my own; his eyes are glued to the screen and totally unaware that she’s talking to him about how big his cock is… with a mouthful of said big cock and I’m thinking she’s either a damned good ventriloquist or, yeah, this part of the flick was dubbed post-production.

She’s still working him over and my friend suddenly turns to me and asks, “Have you ever wonder what it’s like to do what she’s doing?”

I didn’t answer him since, um, I knew exactly what it was like to do what she was doing (but he didn’t know that) but he kept right on talking about it and, I think, didn’t even notice that I never answered him. To make things “worse,” he grabs the remote and rewinds the cocksucking scene and he’s going on and on about this woman sucking dick and how fascinated he was about it and, again – either talking to me or to himself – saying shit about what it’s like to suck cock and it really did get on my nerves and so much that I said, “If you want to know what it’s like to do what she’s doing, why not do it and find out?”

He let’s the flick continue but if you had been sitting with us, you would have felt that the mood in the room had changed; on the screen Mr. Big Dick is reaming out Ms. Petite’s coochie with gusto but my friend is still talking about the cock sucking part and, personally, I’m about to tell him I gotta go to the bathroom because things are getting… interesting in my pants and, to be honest, I got “tired” of waiting for him to pull his dick out and start jerking off so I could do it, too. But before I could say, “I’m going to the bathroom” he asks, “Hey, um, ah, do you think I could suck your dick? I really wanna know what it’s like to do it!”

At this point, I didn’t care if he found out something about me that he didn’t know… or that I just found out something about him. I got my dick out and said, “Go for it!” and he did (and while trying to do what we’d seen the woman on the screen doing) until I told him I had to cum and since he didn’t stop, I unloaded in his mouth. At this point, I very much wanted to get my mouth on him but no – now he wanted to talk about what he’d just done and including a confession that every since he started watching porn, he had always wanted to suck dick and like all the women he’d watched doing it and now that he did, it was a great weight off of his mind and I was happy for him but it would have been a great weight off of my mind if he’d stop talking so I could ask him if I could suck his dick.

I did get a chance to ask… and he said no and because he wanted to suck my dick again and, well, okay, I guess and sat back to let him have his fun and the only other fun I had was I got to jerk him off while he blew me this time and I didn’t like letting all that spunk go to waste but, okay – it was what it was. I did get to suck his dick a week later but he was just one of quite a few guys I had run across who became cock suckers because they watched women sucking dick in porn.

Some of them failed to be subtle about what they wanted to do and it would be funny to sit with a guy, the porn is playing, the woman or women are sucking dick and they’re commenting on it like we’re sitting there watching a football game… and I’m just waiting for them to pop the question and enduring them talking about “hypothetical” situations like, “Have you ever gotten so horny that you’d let a dude blow you?” and other such stuff before they’d finally get around to asking me if they could blow me since, um, you know, ya get pretty horny watching this stuff.

Then the confession that they’d been watching porn and been very curious about what it would be like but until now, never had the chance to do it… or, sometimes, trying to bullshit me into believing that they’d never done it before and I wasn’t buying any of it. But this… influence wasn’t just about sucking dick.

In another such moment, porn is playing, corny dialog and music and shitty editing; the woman is sucking on the dude’s dick and I could tell by the look on her face and the way she was doing it that she wasn’t feeling it all that much; homey, however, is talking about how good she’s sucking that dick (and I gave her a C- for her efforts) but he forgets all about that when the dude starts to ease his dick into her ass. I sneak a peek at him and his eyes are almost bulging out of his head as inch after inch of the big dick is going in there and – wait for it – he says, either to me or himself, “Man… I wonder what that feels like! Have you ever wondered what it feels like to be fucked in the ass?”

Um, no; I’ve never wondered about it because I know what it feels like but now I’m just sitting and waiting (with my dick painfully hard) to see what he’s either going to do or say next as he’s continuing to wonder aloud whether it really hurts as much as everyone says it is. The shorter version is that I had my dick buried in his ass after he asked and confessed that, like the guy I mentioned earlier, he’d always been curious about what it would be like to be fucked and have a nut busted in him and on this occasion, he was on the fence about it since he did find out that it can hurt going in and until you get used to such an invasion.

I’d meet other guys who’d say that they got into having sex with men because they watched porn – and not necessarily gay porn. One such guy pulled out a gay porn tape and I was surprised that he even watched stuff like that given how vocal he was about gay people (and not always in a good way) and as the men on the screen were doing their thing, he leans over and whispers – and like someone other than myself was gonna hear him – “I want you to do that to me, you know, if you don’t mind… and I won’t tell anybody that it happened, okay?”

Back in the day, the only porn available was either the infamous dirty books or 8mm “stag films” that required a projector and I didn’t think it was all that strange that a guy would (1) admit to swiping his dad’s dirty books and (2) wanted to do whatever he had read in the books. As I recall, there wasn’t much gay content and it was more likely that I didn’t personally see it (until I was much older) or the various dads in the neighborhood weren’t buying it but, yeah, quite a few guys got into having sex with boys because of them reading dirty books and wondering what it would be like since we were boys and not girls.

I’d sometimes run into a guy who’d eagerly say that he wanted to do something that he read in a dirty book… and would that be something I’d be interested in?

I’d have to say that porn can influence guys to want to try whatever they’re watching and reading (if there’s still stuff to be read). I remember when Penthouse was publishing a lot of erotic stories and some of them involved men having sex with each other… and guys wanting to find out what it was like to have sex with a guy and, um, sometimes, I happened to be there. To be honest, I didn’t always go along with the proposal and I knew of quite a few times when the guy going on and on about what he’d read in Penthouse wanted to ask but didn’t and I’d be glad that he didn’t or “disappointed” depending on the guy in question.

I was finding out that those who were influenced by porn to get some dick/ass weren’t always influenced in what I’d call a positive way; they’d see sex happening (gay or not) in some pretty spectacular ways and get it into their head that this is the way men/women like having sex and often with disastrous results when they found out that the person they were having sex with didn’t like being sexed like they were a porn star and especially if the sex was really rough. I remember meeting a guy and we’re sitting there with some gay porn on to, as he said, get us in the mood; this one scene starts with a guy bound and gagged and there’s this burly guy in biker leathers with the usual huge dick hanging out of his chaps; the burly guy rips off the gag and rams his cock into the guy’s mouth nice and deep… and the guy says, “Don’t you want somebody to do that to you?”

I said, “If someone did that to me, I would kill them and make sure they never found the body.” And he actually had the nerve to get upset with me, giving me the impression that he would have loved to re-enact that scene with me. We had sex… but I could tell he wasn’t happy that it wasn’t happening in the way or ways it had been happening in the porn flick. He even had the nerve to tell me that I wasn’t any fun, too.

It seems to me that a lot of guys very much get influenced watching gay porn – or regular porn – and just get it in their heads that what they’re watching is the way the sex is supposed to happen, whether it’s in a “loving” way or so rough and brutal that seeing some it has made me cringe and get a strong urge to commit a homicide. I was enduring yet another porn “warmup” and the flick had gotten to the point where the big, burly and muscular guy was fucking the smaller and more slender guy… and had him in a choke hold as he pounded the daylights out the smaller guy’s ass. The dude turns, looks at me and says, “That’s what I want to do to you!”

And I said, “I will put you in the hospital if you try it and, now that you’ve made your intentions clear, I’m leaving.”

He didn’t seem to understand why I didn’t want to get boned like that and even said, “It’s the way it should be done!” and I found that sentiment to be disturbing and more so when guys wanting to have sex and in the way they watch it via porn was becoming a thing. Sure it could be done like that but common sense kinda says that it’s not done in those more extreme ways and as a matter of course… and it probably shouldn’t be done as someone’s first experience. I remember being quite irate (an understatement) when I went to meet a guy and found out he had invited a friend because they wanted to DP me… and got stuck on stupid when I said, “Oh, hell, no!” and like I was supposed to be all for having two dicks shoved in my ass and I got that look on my face when they both said, “Well, that’s the way everyone does it!”

Um, fuck no they don’t… but it’s pretty scary to think and know that there are guys who watch porn and it’s their “instruction manual” on having sex with other men… or anyone else for that matter. Women object to porn because it objectifies them but I’m here today to tell you that women aren’t the only ones who get objectified by porn and as evidenced by the number of men who really do believe that everyone who sucks their dick wants to be choked while doing it or gagging until they barf or have it rammed down their throat and held there while struggling to breathe… and let’s not forget that a lot of guys think it’s da shit to get a facial or, wow, having someone putting quite a bit of their arm in their ass… or wanting to do that to someone.

Even on the forum, the topic of what porn guys watch – and how it influences them – comes up every so often and for some, it’s not merely jerk-off material – it’s the way they want to have sex and, I guess to them, the way men are supposed to have sex with other men. One guy talked about watching a gangbang flick and, I dunno, got it into his head that it would be lots of fun to be used by five or six or more guys… and when they haven’t even had sex with one guy or at all. They tend to ask questions about it because it’s what they can see in the porn that they’re watching. Indeed, I see clips of guys having sex with each other and, well, I wouldn’t do a lot of the shit that can be seen these days; slap me in the face with your dick – or slap me in the face period – and find out what I’m gonna do; I can guarantee you that you’re not going to like it. I’ve come across guys whose idea of having sex – and like they’ve seen in porn – is to pretty much beat the other guy into submission and, yep, I’ve made them unhappy when I’ve told them that, no, I don’t like it rough (and I don’t know why guys think that other guys do) and if you get to manhandling me and expect me to just take that shit, guess again… while you’re in the ICU and telling the doctor how you wound up there.

The influence porn has for some – or a lot – of guys is… pretty disturbing from where I’m sitting. I know a lot of women who tell a guy quick and in a hurry that if he’s thinking about doing some shit he saw in a porno with her, guess again, homey because she ain’t feeling any of that shit and you’d better not even think about trying to sneak it in, either. I know of guys who have been… confused over the fact that there was some “porno shit” they wanted to do and the person, male or female, they wanted to do it to wasn’t having any of it… because, I guess, they had it in their mind that whatever it was they saw, it’s the way it’s supposed to be.

I’ve maintained that porn is… an exaggeration of “art” trying to imitate life. It’s purpose isn’t so much to educate as it is to excite and stimulate but I know a lot of guys would partake of porn to be educated and then take whatever they’ve been watching as the de facto way to have sex with someone. Sure, they’re looking at it… but not looking at it. I’ve seen so much of it where the person involved just ain’t feeling what they’re getting paid to do – and you can see a lot of it in the amateur porn that’s flooding the Internet and it seems to me that some guys, since they don’t notice stuff like this, just think having sex in these exaggerated ways is not only fun but, yeah, that’s the way to do it and everyone is gonna be down for it…

Right up to the moment when the find out otherwise… and that’s often not pretty to be very nice about it. I remember watching a more… ineptly made flick with a guy where – again – the big, muscular, burly dude with the huge dick was going through all the positions with this guy over and over and the guy sitting next to me was… impressed with homey’s staying power to have fucked his guy for the entire hour the flick ran. I rolled my eyes and said, “You know that they edit these things, don’t you? That they film these things in segments then put them all together so that it looks like this guy has been fucking the other guy for all that time… and that’s not what really happened?”

I wasn’t surprised that he didn’t believe me and still didn’t when I used the remote to show him the many times the scene changed due to the editing that was done. He just said that I hated porn and, well, he wasn’t all that wrong about that because I know that porn is exaggerated and made to be larger than life and often in spectacular fashion. You could do it like that and porn is very good at showing the many, many ways to put A into B, C, and D… but the real questions is who’s gonna go along with some of those ways… and then consider the many men who really want to have sex the way they see it in porn.

Cityman loves to send me porn clips and it’s hard for me to watch them – and I do because I know he wants to know what I think about it – because even with the amateur stuff he sometimes sends, it’s… fake. It’s an act. Putting on a show for the camera. About as cliched as it can be and I can usually tell him how the clip is going to go and end… just by watching the opening moments of it because if you’ve seen it once, you’ve almost seen all of it. Sure, the sex is real enough but, yeah, I know it’s me but I can’t quite understand why a lot of guys use porn as a primer to having sex when I know how it’s done, which, yeah, takes the “fun” out of watching it. Would I really like a guy with a foot-long dick shoving it all the way down my throat and making sure I can’t back off? Fuck, no, I wouldn’t. Wouldn’t I love it to have that same thick, foot-long dick being hammered into my ass? Been there, done that, didn’t like it one bit but because the guy watched it being done like that in porn, it’s what he knows and taking it easy doesn’t seem to make sense to him.

Your eyes can deceive you so don’t trust them but when it comes to watching porn, some guys do trust what they see and, again, somehow get it into their heads that what they see is the way it’s supposed to be or how it’s to be done as a matter of course. Hell, yeah, a lot of guys get influenced by it and in a lot of ways and some have been influenced to the point where they’ve become cocksuckers or they find out what it’s like to be fucked and inseminated; sometimes it’s just what the doctor ordered and sometimes not even close and sometimes with very negative and damaging results to both mind and body.

Porn didn’t influence my bisexuality and, perhaps, as it has for some guys. In fact, I was doing a lot of that stuff before I even knew that those infamous dirty books existed so when I did discover and read them – and stolen from my dad, of course – there wasn’t anything I was reading that I wasn’t already doing from sucking dick to eating pussy, fucking and being fucked. But a lot of guys, even back in the day, were influenced to find out what it was like to get some dick and, really, it’s not that difficult to see and understand why they would be and given the many guys I knew of who’d see a girl sucking their dick or they’re fucking them and they’re wondering what it feels like to suck dick and/or be fucked… then get it in their minds to find out and, yep, even more so after absorbing some porn in some form.

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: For the Thrill of It

There are so many people out there beating their heads against walls trying to figure out what’s the big deal with male bisexuality and, I think, overlooking the more simplistic answer:

For the thrill of it. For men to engage in sexual congress with each other is forbidden and taboo yet there aren’t many people who are totally unaware that it does happen and those who rale against it happening are too institutionalized in societal beliefs and try to compare this to having sex with women.

And while the physical acts are a lot more similar than many may want to believe, the taboo makes having sex with a man… terribly exciting and can make one feel very naughty. That first time, without a doubt, can be very damned scary and even if you’ve masturbated to what it might be like or have had a few wet dreams behind it. You just can’t prepare your mind adequately for that first time because you know that what you’re about to do is forbidden in almost every culture that exists. You want to… and not so much; there’s so much nervous energy going on that I’ve seen guys about to have that first experience go through all kinds of stuff and, being much more experienced than they are, I understand what they’re going through because I went through such a moment myself.

“I don’t understand why men have to do that shit!“

The answer is simple: Because it’s sex and sex feels good… and doing it with another guy feels even more so because we’re not supposed to do it. You can find out the many different reasons why guys are doing what they’re doing with other guys but the bottom line is that they’re doing it for the thrill of it. One of the things I learned about being bisexual is that it changes your perceptions about sex from the way it’s supposed to be to the way it can be and many bisexuals also see that that ancient taboo and fire and brimstone punishments don’t hold much water because despite all of this – and, sometimes, because it is so taboo – it makes having sex more exciting to lie with a man or a woman and… have sex in this very forbidden way.

Primal urges override social programming; you know that you’re not supposed to but you know you have to; mind and body aren’t always on the same page because of what you know but your body is telling a whole different story and what it’s saying to you is… scary. Thrilling. Some kind of nasty. While many find reasons not to do what their body is telling them they need to do, legions of bisexuals are giving in to their primal urges and need to have sex and to hell with the taboo. It can make you feel… rebellious to buck the system and not only do the “unthinkable” but to revel in “being bad” and to find out – or confirm – that there’s much more to sex and, yeah, there’s a few reasons why it’s such a taboo; one is about reproduction and the other is that it’s just too much fun and depending on what you believe, it’s not supposed to be fun.

Yet it is. Whether you’re sucking cock or that cock is buried in the most forbidden place on the human body. Taking another man’s cum or giving him yours. Oh, so nasty and oh, so thrilling. All that “hearts not parts” stuff is all well and good but doesn’t stand up all that well to the moments when dicks are made to be hard… then the fun begins to make them soft again. To expose your vulnerable side in ways that should never be done and taking the social conditioning and dashing it upon some rocks to break it… and for the thrill of it.

All those people frantically and fervently trying to find reasons – or inventing them – to explain why people are bisexual and overlooking the obvious: It’s sex. It’s thrilling in its forbidden nature. So intimate. Not always as bad and horrific as a lot of people say it is. How can something that’s supposed to be so bad feel so good?

Because it’s supposed to feel good and, truth be told, it’s only bad if you believe that it is. We know that gay men and women have sex like this as a matter of course and, um, all of those people – past and present – can’t possibly be wrong, can they? I think not but, then again, I know like they do. I know of the taboo… and have disregarded it and even called it out as being bullshit and just some shit to stop people from doing what we’ve always done and even continue to do: Have sex. Revel in it. Enjoy the shit out of it. The anticipation. Getting all lost in the moment. That rush to orgasm/release and, yeah, in this, that “what the hell am I doing” moment that gets washed away because you damned well know what you’re doing and that it’s forbidden…

And one hell of a thrill. They tell us that sex can only happen between a man and a woman… and bisexuals expose the lie of this because it can happen with a man and a woman, you know, if they’re of a mind to experience the thrill of taking the taboo and flushing it down the toilet and as so many bisexuals have done… and are doing right this very moment. They say it’s promiscuous behavior and, well, they’re right about that because, um, it’s supposed to be and always has been and the fact that this is prohibitively forbidden, it makes the thrill of it so much better and as evidenced by the many times I’ve personally heard someone say, “I don’t know what I was afraid of or why I didn’t do this before now!”

Welcome to the thrill of it. Even bisexuals tend to overthink the whole thing and overlooking the simplicity involved; there has to be some other reason other than it being “just sex” but that’s not unusual for some to do this because, sure – there has to be a reason for disobeying the religious mandate to never, ever have sex like this and, again, just skirting past the most obvious ones:

For the thrill of it. Because it’s sex. Duh.

“Do you ever feel guilty having sex this way?

Sure. The social stuff is permanently embedded in my mind and every time I’ve had sex with a man, I hear the warnings and admonishments about how I shouldn’t be doing this… and they get ignored because the thrill of it is so much better than listening to – and conforming – to some shit that I know is… bullshit. Make no mistake: Fear is a very powerful emotion and society goes out of its way to instill fear in all of us over this and while many let their fears be in charge, um, some of us? Not so much because the thrill of it is… thrilling. Deliciously nasty. Absolutely forbidden and that alone can add a bigger thrill. Just being a sexual rebel and getting yours when you need it and from anyone who is of a mind to get theirs, too… and the taboo be just as damned as we’re supposed to become because we’ve chucked it aside…

For the thrill of it.

“Well, I’d never do that!”

Hmm… maybe you should and perhaps you’d find out what’s so thrilling about it. How scary good it can be to have sex in the prohibited way and to find out that while your mind gives a fuck about who’s giving it pleasure, your body doesn’t care all that much as long as it’s being pleasured. What’s that you say? You tried it once and didn’t like it? Do it again and find out why a lot of people who said that exact same thing are now all up in the thrill of it. Huh? There’s nothing another man/woman can do for you? Oh, my – you’d be surprised… and I personally know quite a few people who’ve said this and now they’ve found out what another man/woman can do for them…

Because of thrill of it. Being bad. Saying, “Fuck the rules!” and finding out about sex in a way that we’re not supposed to know about, let alone do… and I say to you all that everyone who does “thumb their nose” at the taboo cannot possibly be wrong and more so when, again, there’s an uncountable amount of men and women who are having sex in the forbidden way…

And for the thrill of it. Everyone who does can justify why they’re bucking the system and they do, in fact, have their reasons even if they don’t make sense to anyone else (and it doesn’t really have to) but, yeah, sometimes, we read way too much into being on the more forbidden side of things and not, again, thinking about the one thing that should always matter:

The thrill of it. Having sex and something that everyone agrees is normal, natural, and quite healthy for both mind and body and, really, if you believe this to be true – and it is – um, what makes you think that getting some dick or some pussy is any less normal, natural, and healthy? And if you think it isn’t, it’s because you were made to believe that it isn’t and, please, don’t even try to slam the disease card down; that was played out a long time ago and in the face of the fact that this shit has been with us ever since we started having sex; there’s a reason why it’s said that sex is dirty and nasty and those who said this wasn’t talking about getting all hot and sweaty…

Because of the thrill of it.

A lot of people get us confused with gay folks and I get it… because that’s what they know. But gay folks are not only gay for the reasons they’ll tell you, they’re gay because it is rather thrilling to buck the system and then, for some, be all up in everyone’s face about it while they’re at it. A lot of people just might think this way because they’re paying attention to the, ah, more forbidden aspects of our sexual behavior and overlooking the fact that, um, having sex the way it’s supposed to be can be just as thrilling which makes our ability to “cross the lines” even more thrilling. Because it’s sex and sex is supposed to be thrilling, well, at least in principle but, yeah – doing it in the forbidden way, for a great many – and including yours truly – is quite the rush…

And oh, so, thrilling to know that we’re getting off and being all kinds of intimate against all of the rules that were put in place to stop us from having sex – and getting thrilled – in this way. While our individual experiences can and do differ and from one time to the next, it doesn’t take all of the “shine” off of the thrill; hey, some people just make having sex a thing you’d rather not be bothered with but to know that you’ve been cut loose from having sex the way most people still believe it can only be done in?

Thrilling. Being a sexual “thrill seeker” in that most prohibited way. Getting some dick. Having a heaping helping of pussy. Having all of your senses engaged all at once. Knowing that what you’re doing is about as wrong as it gets… and not giving much of a fuck about it because you’ve decided to get yours and if you gotta break some rules, so be it and, yeah, just for the thrill of it.

Sigh. People don’t understand – or want to understand – why bisexuals are the way they are. Yes, it can be all about the emotional aspects and the special intimacy it provides so many of us… but to get naked and do the deed as well? Thrilling. Exciting. Sometimes scary as all get out. Satisfying. Being a bad boy or girl. Becoming a sexually liberated rebel and, again, for the thrill of it. To experience intimacy in a way it’s not supposed to be experienced… yet that’s the way it’s always been with us humans and even in the face of trying to eradicate this behavior from the human condition… and might I mention that it has consistently failed to stop anyone from having sex and being intimate in this way…

And because if for no other reason, there’s always the thrill of it. It’s sex. Duh. It’s not the secondary concern we are made to believe it is and should be; we were born to have sex; the need is deeply encoded into us and there are, like it or not, a great many of us who find it so thrilling to have sex this way and, really, they say that we shouldn’t do it… but not that it can’t be done and I can assure you that it can be done…

Even if only for the thrill of it. Not really sure why this root cause thing gets overlooked as much as it does but as I said way back somewhere in the beginning of this, we assume and presume that there has to be a reason other than the most obvious ones: It’s sex and one hell of a thrilling way to have sex.

So if you didn’t know, now you know. It’s okay if it’s not your idea of thrilling – many find that it just isn’t and no matter how many times they try to experience the thrill of it. All of the reasons for wanting to experience the thrill is all well and good but those who have reason also know about the nasty-assed thrill of having sex in this prohibited and taboo way…

Because it’s supposed to be thrilling. It’s how we can have sex if we can find reason to and justify our actions to those who continue to believe that this is a very horrible taboo. And it is. Makes for some thrilling sex because it is taboo. I really don’t know what else I can tell you other than to bore you silly with every reason for breaking the taboo I know of but let’s keep it simple, shall we? People are bisexual for whatever reasons they are…

And for the thrill of it and, yes, in the face of great derision and of the kind that, again, has never, ever stopped anyone from getting their thrills this way. It doesn’t make us weird or freaks or all that different from the other sexual thrill seekers and more so when I know some folks who are into sexual things that’ll give me pause… and I’ve done some stuff in my time. But what it does do is make us… human. Having sex just for the thrill of it and even in the way it’s supposed to be… but it’s not the only way to get some thrills, you know, if you can free your mind so your ass will follow (and as the lyric went) and, who knows? Your “ass” just might find it…

Thrilling.

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: Zoned

If the thought of guys having sex with each other disturbs you in any way, ya might want to go find something else to read.

“Tommy” and I were friends and… lovers? Not in that “boyfriend” kind of way but we had that level of rapport that whenever we saw each other, that we’d wind up having sex was a given. We not only discovered that we liked having sex like this but once we did it to each other – and like yesterday’s scribble about getting turned out – yeah: We turned each other out even though neither of us were strangers to this. He had said – and I had readily agreed – that we fit into each other as if tailor-made.

We had a “routine” that we followed every time without fail. After getting over our very bad case of the giggles caused by knowing how eager we were about doing this to each other – kinda like an inside joke since we often talked about meeting up and doing nothing which never happened – we’d lie side by side and suck each other off either nice and slow or like we were in a hurry and depending on how long it had been since we last saw each other; he lived only three blocks away but it felt like there was a few miles between us.

Sucking him was a dream and like I said, like his dick was specifically made to go in my mouth. He wasn’t “huge” but he wasn’t “shrimpy,” either but I could take and hold all of his dick in my mouth comfortably and without gagging or fighting for breath. It didn’t matter who came first or anything like that but when he’d cum, it tasted so good that I’d often feel “angry” that there wasn’t more of it.

And he’d say the same about me and almost verbatim. It was, in fact, the first thing we did with each other and, later, we’d both agree that we had turned each other out that day as we wound up being able to suck each other off three times before neither of us could get it up again. We’d started out doing this and at one point, it just “made sense” to give fucking each other a try. All nice and clean back there other than a glob of the venerable Vaseline making things gooey, he had slid into me… and I didn’t feel a thing but I knew he was all the way in me just the same and the sensation made both of us gasp… then he fucked me and I had zoned out because it was so good and comfortable that I might have drifted off to sleep for a moment, only to snap out of it when I felt his prick pumping sperm into me.

We’d switched places and after slathering Vaseline between his cheeks – and him sucking me into full erection – I got on top of him, positioned myself against his hole and pushed, sliding completely in him… and he had asked, “Are you in?” I had laughed because he said what I had thought when he screwed me! Some moments later, I came inside him and he was moaning like I’d not heard a guy moan before. When I pulled out, he rolled over and looked at me and asked, “Is it me or was this the best ever?” I had agreed and it didn’t take much for us to decide that we were going to do this again and whenever we saw each other.

Like now. We had kinda planned this get together in time with my mom leaving for work and my siblings were elsewhere; this was one of the reasons why we didn’t see each other more often because trying to “schedule” this around whatever was going on in our homes proved to be iffy. But not today. We had time but hurried up to get undressed and letting our eyes roam all over each other and like we’d never seen each other naked before. In early moments, our dicks would already be rock hard and making us laugh trying to get our underwear off around our respective erections but we’d done this so many times that there was a comfortable familiarity between us and it wasn’t like we wouldn’t be able to get each other hard. We pretty much fell onto my bed and into each other’s arms; no kissing but our hands were roaming over each other as if to refamiliarize ourselves. We didn’t have a lot to say other than neither of us being able to wait for this moment and it had been a while (about three days, as I remember) since we were last like this. But enough talk!

Tommy inverted himself so that his dick was right there in my face and I didn’t waste a moment taking all of his soft cock into my mouth and moaning when I felt his mouth close around mine. He got hard in almost an instant but it was all too easy to accommodate his growth in my mouth but I had to play “catch up” because he’d already gotten me hard and was working his mouth on me. At this point, you might expect that I’d get into some stuff like how warm it was in my room despite the windows being open and all that kind of stuff… and if I had been paying attention to that, I’d probably write it but my whole world consisted of Tommy’s hard cock in my mouth and reveling in the taste and feel of it and doing my best to get him to cum… and he did a few minutes later, filling my mouth with his salty sweetness and I swallowed it all in a damned hurry… because I was cumming as well and my head was swimming with trying to swallow his sperm while pumping mine into his mouth.

We let each other go and lay there gasping and grinning at each other; unlike our earlier times together, there was nothing to say because we both knew how good it was to suck each other off and now it was just a matter of which one of us recovered first so some fucking could happen. He had recovered first and I got us all Vaseline’d up but instead of lying on my stomach to await his entry, I decided to give riding him a try, something I’d only done maybe two or three times before. He had this questioning look on his face as I straddled him, grabbed his dick, and guided it to my hole… and sat right down on him. I gasped because it felt like a bomb going off inside of me for a moment and once that feeling subsided a bit, I started to ride him and it was… something to be able to look at him looking down between us to see his dick appearing and disappearing in my ass… and I could feel those tremors running along his shaft and, for some reason, I said, “Give it to me; cum in me, fill me up with it!”

Yeah, that was new but it was like he “obeyed” me because I could feel his dick pumping away as I ground my ass on him. The look on his face was indescribable; something between pleasure and pain and something else I couldn’t make sense of as he finished pumping his load into me. I got off of him, feeling my body achy having been in a position I’d not been in for a long time but it was nothing compared to the good “ache” of having had him inside me.

“That was different,” he said. “What made you do that?”

“I dunno – seemed like a good idea,” I said as I lay on my back and feeing his sperm starting to ooze out of me and dealing with that damned empty feeling I could never do anything about.

Tommy went down on me to get me hard – then, after applying the Vaseline – copied what I did; he straddled me, guided me to him and slowly sat down and I loved the look on his face. Once fully seated, he said, “You still fit inside me perfectly…” and starting moving his hips… and I zoned out as he worked his ass on my dick. I could feel the pressure building and I wanted to cum… and didn’t want to but just as I had said, Tommy said, “Stop holding it back and give it up, damn it!”

The world exploded as I felt my dick swell as much as it could trapped inside of him – then started pumping furiously and all I could do was moan and groan; I wanted to look at him but once my eyes closed, they just didn’t want to open. I was so… immersed in what I was feeling that I didn’t even notice when he climbed off of me and lay beside me until, surprisingly, he kissed me and I was even more surprised to return the kiss and even slipping him a bit of tongue. That went on for a moment before the kiss broke and now it was time to clean up the messes we’d made. We did that in a hurry because my siblings were due back in about a half and hour and I didn’t know about him but I wanted to use that time to suck his dick again.

All nice and clean, we jumped back into my bed and got to sucking each other again… and I totally zoned out and to the point where I wasn’t really aware that he was sucking me; his dick just fit my mouth perfectly and I was grabbing his ass to get him to fuck into my mouth faster; he got the hint and, ah, man, it was so good! Since I had my hands on his ass, I pushed my finger into him, making him do the same to me and, holy shit – the result was almost instantaneous. Today, I know he had hit my prostate but at the time, I didn’t know what that intense feeling was when his finger moved around but my dick went from “comfortably hard” to pumping like there was no tomorrow… but I didn’t have time to think about that since a moment or two later, Tommy was cumming, too; I could feel his muscles clenching my finger with every spurt into my mouth and man – did it get any better than this?

Somewhat dazed, I looked at my watch… and saw that all of that only took about five minutes! It felt like it had been longer than that but all that meant was that if we could get it up again, we could fuck each other one more time. It took some doing but Tommy got me up first and this time I fucked him in the good old missionary position, something that, when guys wanted to fuck me like this, I could never get used to; my hips just never felt comfortable but after I shot what I knew would be my last load into him, I knew I wanted him in me like this, too, even though I could already “hear” my hip joints complaining.

And I ignored them; I had my legs locked around him as he fucked me and I went… somewhere. All I knew – and acutely so – was his dick worming its way in and out of me and hearing myself moan and groan every time he buried every inch inside of me and I wanted it to go on forever and if we got caught, so be it… but, yeah, that wasn’t gonna happen because Tommy was cumming and I realized that I’d been so zoned out that I wasn’t aware if he had “said” anything… but his prick pumping in me said more than any words ever could.

He pulled out… and my hips started pitching a bitch as I stretched my legs out; I winced as I sat and stood up and tried to hustle my ass into the bathroom, following Tommy so we could get cleaned up. He could see that something was bothering me and asked about it and I just said, “I’ll tell you later, when we get outside.” Once again washed and dressed and totally sated, we went out and was just walking around the park and he’d said – and not for the first time – “I can’t believe how good we are together! We just fit everywhere and so good that, you know, other dudes make it hurt but with us? Ain’t none of that happened – weird, huh?”

“Yeah,” I replied and thinking about the times I pondered this and the only thing that came to me was a slight headache… but he was right; we were perfect for each other. “You kissed me.”

If he could be seen blushing, it probably would have been the brightest red ever. “Yeah… I don’t know what made me do that since, you know, I hate kissing guys as much as you do… but it was nice, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, it was,” I had to admit. I felt a laugh starting to bubble up out of me because as we walked, I was feeling very… squishy between my cheeks and when he asked me what was so funny, I told him and that had us laughing so hard that people we were walking by were looking at us like we’d lost our minds or something. But I remembered that I had something important to tell him.

“I’ll be gone for about a month – it’s summer camp time for me,” I said and telling him that made me feel sad for some reason.

“When are you leaving?” he asked.

“Next Friday,” I said and I was sure he was thinking the same thing I was: Could we get together one more time – or more – before Friday? And I think we both came to the same conclusion: Nope.

“Shit,” he said as he figured out what I had figured out.

“Yeah, shit; I’m supposed to go shopping for the stuff I don’t have already, one day with my mom and the other with my grandmother and I don’t know what days that’s gonna happen plus I gotta go to the doctor so he can fill out a form saying I’m nice and healthy.”

“Yep, you sure are,” he said, making us bust out laughing again. “But, okay – we’ll still have time when you get back!”

And we didn’t because upon my return from camp, we moved into the newly built house my mom had been able to buy… on the other side of town and, ironically, just mere blocks away from where I began my bisexual journey. I didn’t even have time to tell him about this and barely had time to let my girlfriend know that I was back from camp but we were packing to move. I understood why we were and I was kinda excited to get out of the projects… but I also knew what it meant; I’d have to walk across town to be with my girlfriend – and our son – but that wouldn’t leave any time or provide and chances to be with Tommy and, well, something had to give, didn’t it. We moved and after getting settled in, I got a chance to call him and we talked about what the move meant and he wasn’t happy but he understood and said that there might be a time when we could see each other again… but I think he knew like I did: It wasn’t going to happen.

I called him one day to see what was up with him… and the number was disconnected! During a trip to see my girl and son, I asked someone if they’d seen Tommy and was told his family had moved to another state because his mom had gotten a better job and I felt… sad to learn that he’d been gone for over a month… and he never reached out to me. Okay… shit happens. I wasn’t in love with him nor he with me; we were very good friends and very good lovers to each other and I knew I was going to miss him and pretty sure there would be no one else like him.

I was wrong about that… but that’s a story for another time. Still, I had – and have – my memories of him; he was such an interesting person and all around good guy and having sex with him was… perfect in every way. He could zone me out like no one before him could ever do and sometimes to the point where he’d cum and I’d either miss it or be surprised by feeling his very tasty sperm in my mouth. Good times…

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: “That’s Gotta Hurt a Little, Huh?”

As I sat astride him, I was sweating so much that it felt like being under a waterfall of sorts; I was hot and sticky with sweat trickling into my eyes. I ignored these things and just as I was ignoring the rather obscene, squishy sounds coming from beneath me as I moved myself all over his dick… and I couldn’t ignore that so much. He was huge – not just long but thick, too, with a cock knob so big that when I was sucking him, I had a bit of a problem getting it in my mouth… but that monstrosity got sucked.

Not five minutes ago, he had been where I was now and as he moved and gyrated, I was kind of in thrall watching his massive erection bobbing all over the place and, admittedly, just a bit envious. Not because he had a big dick; I hadn’t cared about dick size one bit. No: My envy was over the fact that he was hard to begin with, something that I’d never been able to do when someone was screwing me. I had shot my load into him and it seemed to delight him as he smiled broadly and… giggled while urging me to give it all to him.

He got off of me, grabbed the bottle of lubricant – and a lube that I wasn’t “happy” with. I’d tested its slickness and found it to be too thin for my liking and as I struggled to keep my eyes open to see him applying huge globs of it to his dick, I knew his impending entry into me was going to be a lot more not-easy than his size and girth was already predicting. He handed me the bottle and I used a lot of it to get myself as lubricated as possible; the scientist in me had already determined that given its lack of slickness, once he got inside me, it would wear away quickly. My thoughts, as I straddled him – and because he had said, “I want you on top…” was that this was going to be interesting to deal with his “monster meat” as well as the scorching friction I knew would show up at some point.

Truth was I wasn’t quite ready; my body hadn’t fully come down and “reset” after my release but this wasn’t just a matter of honor; I wanted him in me and, in part, “tired” of listening to him talk about how big his dick was and all that other stuff that, again, meant absolutely nothing to me. I positioned myself above him; I could see the anticipatory look in his eyes as I rubbed that huge knob against my hole before taking a long, deep breath and relaxing… and sat right down on him without a moment of hesitation. I felt his knob shove my muscles aside like they weren’t even there; I imagined a ripping sound as his head passed into me and I know I winced a little but kept going anyway until I got all of his dick in me that was going in me.

“Damn…” he had said as I took more deep breathes and willed my body to relax even more. He’d seen what I’d done and I guess that his exclamation was due to him not having someone do that often if at all. I began to move; the discomfort of his entry was almost forgotten; nothing mattered at this point other than his cock sliding in and out of me and getting to the moment when he’d cum in me. I “hated” to admit to how much I wanted to feel him do this… but I also remembered how I had been feeling before I’d met him: I needed to get screwed and nothing was going to make that need go away other than what was happening right now.

It was strangely quiet with little of the “usual verbalizations” one could expect. We were both breathing heavily, the bed was making noises due to our movements; that squishy sound was less noticeable – as predicted, the slipperiness didn’t hold up all that well and the friction being generated wasn’t totally unpleasant as it was doing a number on my prostate and sending orgasmic shivers through me as well as that feeling that I either had to pee… or I had to cum: I was never sure which was which. Despite all of that, I was still moving atop him and as a lot of women had inadvertently taught me every time they’d ridden me; his groans and increasing thrusts told me that he was enjoying being inside me and as much as I was enjoying him being there.

They say all good things must end… and this wasn’t any different. He was thrusting into me so hard and fast that it was to my benefit to stop moving. I was getting more and more uncomfortable; the friction he was creating in me could be felt a lot more and making me even more uncomfortable… but there was nothing to be done about it and only one thing could act as a salve. I felt his dick swell a mere moment before he gasped, started cussing – why do guys do that? – and then his dick was pulsing very strongly inside of me. I couldn’t feel his cum shooting into me but those pulses were telling me everything I needed to know. A crazy-assed thought flashed through my mind – well, two of them did. The first was a memory from my past of being screwed and the guy was cumming inside and had me thinking that he was trying to get me pregnant… and the next thought was that if I was a girl – and given how much his dick was still pumping strongly – he would probably well and truly knock me up.

Then, stillness. No other sounds than his heavy breathing that covered up my sigh of satisfaction and relief or, really, momentary relief because due to his length and thickness – and his gradual softening didn’t make him any less girthy – now I had to get him out of me and, um, kinda aiding that in that certain way wasn’t going to help much in this situation. I slowly eased myself off of him; I don’t know if he even noticed the look of concentration on my face. I could have just gotten off of him but experience had taught me about muscular rebounding and how some muscles act just like rubber bands and when they suddenly stop being stretched, they snap back to the way they were so, no – just hopping off wasn’t something I wanted to do because that “snapback” not only didn’t feel good, it had a tendancy to make me want to throw up. It took me a good minute to ease him out of me; he sighed and so did I but probably not for the same reasons. I flopped down next to him; between my earlier release and my efforts atop him, I was quite tired and, importantly, the need to be screwed and creamed had been sated.

For now. We lay side by side grinning at each other and telling each other how good everything was when he suddenly asked, “That’s gotta hurt a little, huh?”

Yeah, it did but that’s just part and parcel of things. I recall overhearing – and having others “testify” that being fucked in the ass hurts like a motherfucker and such a thing should be avoided at all times and at all costs. What I had learned, silly me, that it can hurt like that motherfucker going in but the more you relax – and the more slipperiness being involved – at some point the pain and other discomfort will fade into the background… as long as the guy isn’t trying to pound the crap out of you.

To his question, I just shrugged because it is what it is and I’d long since understood that in this, there is no pleasure without a modicum of discomfort… or a lot of it and depending. I did say, “That’s to be expected…” and since I was looking at him, I saw him nod in agreement and understanding. My mind flashed back to the moment I had entered him and while I wasn’t as long or as thick as he was, yeah, he felt me just the same.

“It just hurts so good,” he had said as he idly toyed with my nipple that was closest to him.

“Yeah, it does,” I agreed. My body involuntarily shuddered as it remembered what it felt like having him making contact with my prostate and what I’d been doing to… maximize that contact. It’s a weird feeling that feels good but not all that much; it’s always made me think that the male prostate is insane in that it likes being “touched” and doesn’t.

“You were doing a number on my prostate,” he said and as if he somehow knew what I was thinking about.

“Like you weren’t doing a number on mine?” I asked and he actually had the “nerve” to look sheepish and, perhaps, a bit embarrassed. I wasn’t sure… and I didn’t care all that much; I just wanted to come down off that orgasmic high I most certainly experienced… and to do a bit of cleaning since, um, I was, let’s say, leaky. We got up and made our way to the bathroom to take care of what was made necessary; I didn’t know about him but I was now a bit sore and my insides – and thanks to his probably cheap lube – felt like I had a bit of rug burn. It crossed my mind for a moment as we washed up that given his length and girth and how… vigorously I rode him, I was going to be “walking funny” until things settled down… and that, too, was to be expected just as not being able to sit comfortably for a few was.

“You know, I would have been happy if all we did was suck each other off,” he had said. “But, I knew I wanted you to fuck me – ain’t that weird?”

“Not really because I was thinking the same thing,” I said; I wasn’t about to tell him that I had been jonesing to get the high hard one for a few days and if we hadn’t agreed to screw each other, when we’d met, I was already hatching a plan to get him inside me and scratch that itch… and it was pure chance that he was very well equipped to scratch that itch really good.

“The first time I did this? I didn’t think I was going to like it,” he said. “Did you know that you would?”

“No – I had no idea about it at all until the guy who did me tried to stick it in me. He couldn’t and what little he did get in me did hurt… then it felt good and then he shot his load all over my hole and that felt even better,” I said, my mind racing back to that “fateful” day. “After that, it just made sense… if that makes sense. Just like sucking dick, it felt… deliciously wicked and nasty to do something we weren’t supposed to be doing.”

“I know that’s right,” he agreed. “Do you it every time you’re with a guy?”

“Not anymore,” I admitted. “When I was younger, getting fucked was a given; if a guy wanted to fuck you, there was no question about him being fucked. At some point, though, doing it as a matter of course stopped being the fun it once was so nowadays, I only do it when, well, when I feel the need to or, in your case, with someone I feel comfortable enough with.”

“Yeah, me, too,” he said as he nodded. “I found out that because my dick was so big and fat, a lot of girls would run away from me but the fellas? They liked that I was big and fat and, yeah, I felt that if I fucked them, it was only right that they fucked me, that and, um, I liked being fucked.”

“You said it right,” I said. “Besides – if guys wanna fuck each other, there’s only one place other than their mouths, right?”

“Yep!” he said with a laugh but quickly sobered up and said, “I used to feel bad to think that I’ve probably been fucked more than most women I know have.”

“I’ve felt like that myself,” I admitted. “And it’s probably true, to an extent. I just had to learn not to be embarrassed or feel weird about it. It feels good and that’s all that matters.”

“Guys are too scared because they think it’ll make them gay or some shit like that,” he said; I could pick up a hint of frustration in his voice and one that I, too, knew all too well.

“Most people are,” I said. “You’re either into it or you aren’t and there’s reason for both.”

We both got quiet after that and returned to his bedroom to start looking for our clothes that got discarded in a hurry not all that long ago. I was still looking for one of my socks when he asked, “Do you have time for us to, uh, suck each other off, you know, one for the road?”

I probably didn’t but since I had so much fun sucking him earlier, I thought it would be a great idea to do it again and this time be able to feel and taste his cum and I thought it would be “wicked” and “nasty” to suck the dick that, not all that long ago, had been buried in my ass and more so now that it was nice and clean again.

After we blew each other’s brains out, it was time to go. We both agreed that we should get together again to do this but I also had a sense that we were both just being polite and that chances were good that our first time together would be our last. Not that it hadn’t been fun having sex with him but, yeah, sometimes, that’s just the way it goes. If nothing else, I would always have the memory of what it was like to have him inside of me and so deep that I really could feel it in my stomach and I was definitely going to remember feeling his dick pumping like mad and filing me up with his cum as well as the havoc his length and girth wreaked on my prostate.

My butt was sore and I squirmed on the seat of my car trying to get comfortable… and it was worth it.

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: So, Now What?

It’s now decision time. If you’ve managed to accept and validate yourself you have some choices which are, simply, to do… or do not. This is also the part of the “program” where I advise that when pondering “now what,” think first then act if you must… or if you can… and I really mean that one should really and seriously think about it and for as long as it’s deemed necessary.

There is this great… compulsion to dive right on in and I have never been able to figure out what’s driving this other than, after thinking through all of the stuff, one’s mind is now open to the possibilities and, perhaps, even more so when they’ve been observing folks in the same-sex way and they’re just horny as all get out just thinking about what it’s gonna be like to step into forbidden territory.

“What’s to think about? Just go ahead and do it!“

Yeah, not that simple. The thing that has to be thought about isn’t so much whether you’re gonna like it or not or making yourself cray-cray trying to figure out who you can do it with: The thing that has to be thought out is the consequences of your actions… and there will be consequences… and not all of them are the stuff of horror stories as everyone says they are… but they could be. What keeps a lot of people sitting on the bench is attempting to see every possible outcome and the consequences… and that’s fairly impossible since you will never know what’s going to happen until it actually happens. Then you tack on the fact that most people will spend a lot of time thinking about everything that could go wrong or, sometimes, assuming that if they’ve heard about someone else’s experiences – and they didn’t go all that well – then if it happened to that person, it’s definitely going to happen to them, too.

Then that really curious thing of not knowing how to do what you wanna do or, if you do have an inkling about how to do whatever it is, being overly worried about not being good at it. I’ve known a lot of men and women who have gotten lost overthinking things and including whether they can actually do a thing or not, which puts them in a quandary because chances are good that you’re not going to find out if you can actually do it until you try to do it.

Yes, some folks can make the decision that the first chance they get, they’re going for it and, yes, they just go ahead and do it… but that takes some internal meetings with one’s self – and depending on how much – or badly – they want and need to do this – to be able to “throw caution to the wind” and just dive on in and whatever happens, happens. This approach actually does work – I call it the “fuck it” moment but while this might sound careless or something like that, it really isn’t; the short version is one’s mind is going at Warp 10 to answer the question, “Do I do this or should I not do it?” and one’s mind can get overloaded to the point where it kinda shuts down and, yep, you think or say, “Fuck it…” and take the plunge.

This is also the point where you find out that fantasy and reality don’t always line up together; this is the part where you find out that whatever you’ve seen done by watching porn might not make it “easy” for you to do and that eye-opening slap in the face that lets you know that watching someone else do something just ain’t the same as you doing it.

Now, do you have to take the plunge? No, you do not if (a) you don’t want to or (b) your situation isn’t going to allow it. In my experiences, however, I can truthfully say that I have not known too many people who didn’t want to take the plunge and even if they’re waffling back and forth about whether they should or not. Those same experiences have taught me that in the “majority of times,” a lot of people just aren’t going to be happy with themselves until they dive on in because that urge to do this just does not go anywhere.

Then – and as if all of this ain’t bad enough – you still have to find someone who’s willing to have sex with you in this way… and good luck with that. The number one complaint heard from those who are sitting and waiting to have their first experience is not being able to find someone to have it with. The “truth” here isn’t that there aren’t others out there who’d be willing, ready, and able to throw it down with you because there sure as hell as a lot of such people; the problem is trying to find someone who can meet or exceed a predetermined set of conditions and qualifications that can be simple… or as complicated as quantum physics and then it gets even more complicated because most people cannot, do not, and will not simplify things or otherwise make it easy on themselves.

If one has issues with casual sex, well, you’re hosed and have shot yourself in both feet while you’re at it. One of those things that is, at the least, implied when I say to think first is to change your perspective about sex; how it’s supposed to be versus what can be done so if you’re not a casual sex kind of person, you’re going to have a very difficult time finding someone to take the plunge with. Then, if that wasn’t bad enough, having the sex with anyone is a very serious and major trust issue and some folks, well, they’re not all that inclined to trust out of hand or, as Ronald Reagan said, “Trust, but verify…” and the verification process can be a bitch and a half and more so when most people require and demand verification before trust can be established.

What I do know is that you will never, ever, find someone to take the plunge with by sitting on your ass and doing absolutely nothing about it. What I know is that if you do what a lot of people do and create the “perfect” person and the “perfect” situation and conditions in your mind, chances are that nothing is going to happen because you just might be looking for someone who actually doesn’t exist anywhere in the world not to mention that if they do exist, um, you have no friggin’ idea where they are. I tell a lot of people stuck in the place that if you’re not willing to put yourself out there to (a) find someone and/or (b) allow yourself to be found, guess what ain’t gonna happen?

“What’s the best way to go about this?“

That’s a question I can’t answer because, as far as I know and in my many experiences, there is no sure way to go about this that’s guaranteed to work. Some folks prefer the devil they know over the one they don’t… and some prefer the devil they don’t know and more so when one of their big concerns is what’s gonna happen if the devils they do know find out that they wanna go both ways. Ideally, you want the person you can trust and be comfortable with and one who is going to understand that, um, you have no idea how to go about doing this and, because you don’t, they’re going to be very patient with you and, yeah, hopefully, they’re not going to go tell everyone on the planet that they just had sex with you. Who can be that person?

Anyone can… and that’s what you’re gonna have to figure out and I cannot tell you how to do it

“Well, how has this worked for you?“

Not counting my youthful experiences, I’d have to say that eight out of ten times, I’d find myself in the right place at the right time and a lot of my encounters happened by chance. My track record for deliberately finding someone to have fun with is, well, fucked up because I’ve failed a lot more than I’ve succeeded but I guess Mr. Murphy likes fucking with me because when I’m not really looking or even thinking about doing anything, I’m getting propositioned to the point where it’s annoying as hell. When being deliberate, I tend to piss people off because I’m not just going to jump into bed with them without any information or, as I’ve told a lot of guys, “If you don’t have time to talk to me, you don’t have time to have sex with me.”

One can give the various apps a try but with the understanding that (a) you’re gonna be putting in a lot of work to find the right person and (b) not everyone on an app is as “real” as they may appear to be. You could go hang out in a “gay bar” and that just might work… and it might not. The thing here is that if you don’t have a real person in mind, you just never know who might hit on you and if you have a problem with people trying to pick you up, well, yeah – not gonna help you. If you have a lot of sexual inhibitions and harboring a lot of fear over the unknown and see “everyone” as a potential risk to yourself, you’re going to fail at getting your chance to take the plunge.

Compounding all of this is that sense of urgency to have sex like this and sometimes it’s better to do your best to keep that down to a dull roar so you can let your intelligence – and not your libido – make these important decisions and even then with a caveat and one I actually learned from my mother: “If you study long, you study wrong.” What that means is that the longer you take making decisions about anything, the greater the chance you’re going to “make a mistake.” It’s just weird that in these things, the first answer you come up with is usually the right one even though it might not feel that way and the proof of this is any test you’ve ever taken that’s been multiple choice and nothing feels more sucky than getting your test paper back and finding out that the answer you selected – and after thinking about it a lot – was the wrong answer… and the first one you thought about was the right one.

“What if you make the wrong decision?”

It happens and I don’t know anyone who has been right 100% of the time and, nope, I know I haven’t. It’s not that you can guess wrongly – it’s what you do when you find out that you did that matters the most. In my experiences, a lot of people have said that they made a mistake… after the sex has happened and now they’re all fucked up in the head about it and usually the mistake is that things didn’t happen the way they expected them to and, yeah, whoever they were with did a Jekyll and Hyde on them and this, too, is to be expected and aware of because people do behave differently when they’re horny and when they’re not.

“This shit is way too complicated to be bothered with!”

I never said it was easy. I’m as experienced in this as the day is long… and I know it’s not easy. What I think one should do is to make doing something about their thoughts and feelings as easy on themselves to work with as they can manage. Again, if you’re not willing to put in the work that is necessary, you’re going to fail. “Dating” these days is even more of a clusterfuck than I can remember but, again, one of the things you should be thinking about before trying to act is learning a new way to date people, even if just for sex. It’s okay to have a plan for going about this… but a part of the reality says that no plan survives first contact or this stuff looks and sounds good on paper and can turn out otherwise in application. And that’s actually okay if you believe that you can’t learn to success without failing.

If you’re not willing to stick to this until you, well, get what you want, guess what’s never going to happen for you? I don’t mean you have to be running around and chasing “everyone” you come in contact with but you do have to be determined to experience sex in this way and have a list of what you will do that’s longer than the list of what you’re not going to do… and a lot of bisexuals looking to take their first dip in the pool tend to have a list of what they’re not ever going to do that’s lightyears longer than the list of what they will do.

That’s not going to work. No, you don’t have to “do it all” right out of the gate and you should never let anyone pressure you into such a situation if you just ain’t feeling it. It’s okay to take baby steps and it’s okay to take your time dipping your tootsies into the waters. Yes, that first time can be scarier than anything you’ve ever experienced and I won’t lie to you can tell you that getting past that moment of truth is a piece of cake… because it usually isn’t but, yep, it can be… and whether it is or isn’t depends on you more than anything or anyone else. I have found that if one doesn’t have a sexual sense of adventure or are otherwise risk-adverse, taking the initial plunge isn’t going to be easy…

Which is exactly why I tell people to think first, then act if they must, or if they even can at all. So now what? That’s up to you and doing nothing at all is a viable and legitimate choice. I have, at times, tried to talk people out of having their first time, not because I don’t think they can do it but they’ve “indicated” to me that they haven’t thought things out all that much and they’re acting more on impulse than anything else. Should you “just do it?” Well, how about you tell me why you want to and don’t leave anything out and I’ll let you know what I think one way or the other but what this really does is it will make you look at what you’re thinking and feeling so that you can make the right decision for yourself.

Or, as Morpheus said in The Matrix, I can show you the door but you still have to walk through it and I’m the guy who will tell you that it’s not that easy to do and your experiences will vary from anyone else’s… and you won’t know until you walk through the door. Some people pass this “test” with flying colors… and some just don’t; now it’s about which person do you wanna be? I will tell you that in my many experiences, I have had and heard more people say, after taking the plunge, “I don’t know why I never did this before now!” or “I don’t know what I was afraid of!” and, classically, “That wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be!”

All of this is the answer to, “So, now what?”

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: The Pulse

One of the things I like to do as a bisexual man is to see what other bi guys (and curious guys) are doing and thinking and to compare what I know against whatever information I can pick up on just to be sure if I’m still on the same page with other like-minded guys. It’s fun and it’s quite educational for me to visit the bi guy forum and see all the new guys signing up – with or without experience – and to see how the current members are dealing with their sexuality… or not.

Today’s visit provided a thread by a guy looking to bottom which, in and of itself, I don’t find all that unusual nor do I find it unusual for a guy to have, ah, specific requirements for this, like the other guy being in excellent health and can be trusted. While several of the members jumped in with the pros and cons of condom usage – and in the sense that you can’t always trust them to be a good, um, containment vessel, the thing that stuck out to me was the trust thing and as in what does this mean?

We say a couple of things about this, that trust must be earned and not just given… but in order to gain trust, one must give trust. Given that we – men – have had a long history of being untrustworthy, I find this requirement to be interesting in that guy’s looking to dive into the M2M pool seem to be asking for a “guarantee” of rightness and from a subset of the species that’s not known for this most elusive quality.

If ya don’t believe me, go ask a woman about trusting a man and listen to everything she has to say about that. It’s not to say that all men are untrustworthy – and in whatever context that might mean – but, yeah, we’ve got a bad rep in this department.

Yeah, this is yet another one of those Mr. Right versus Mr. Right Now things and guys being, perhaps, too picky about the other guy they want to have sex with.  Trust is a judgement call, even after you’ve managed to collect all the information you can about the other guy so you wind up trusting that you can trust him to be who he says he is, that everything is as right about him as it appears to be and, yes, that he’s gonna do you in the way he said he would and the way you want to be done.  The thing is that shit doesn’t always work that way because people are not only different, we can be one way right now and a totally different way two seconds from now.  We speak in terms of sexuality being fluid and, it seems to be, totally and completely discount or even ignore how fluid people are.  Yes, we strive to be consistent in whatever we do but we’re not always as consistent as we’d like or ever think we can be.  Our thoughts are so fluid and so are our moods and that fluidity can be affected and impacted by external things and, yup, sometimes those external things come into conflict with our internal stuff and, doubly yup, it can put the issue of trust in doubt.

So when this guy said that he wants to bottom for a guy he can trust, man, I wish he had been a bit more specific about what that meant to him.  It seems that a lot of guys are of a mind that Mr. Right Now is someone who cannot be trusted and I’m not sure I understand their thinking along these lines because, um, Mr. Right Now, more often than not, can be Mr. Right but if you believe that Mr. Right Now is some shady, devious, lying, back-stabbing son of a bitch, well, um, what makes you think and/or believe that Mr. Right wouldn’t be like that?  Oh, yeah, that trust thing again, huh?  Yes, you should be able to “trust” that the guy you’re looking to deal with has the qualities you desire but methinks that if you can’t trust yourself, well, you have a problem.  Sometimes, you gotta go with your gut feeling and with most people, their gut feeling is more accurate than what their mind can be; you can think that “Gary” has all the qualities and other qualifications that meet and/or exceed your needs… but your gut is saying something very different.  If you engage with “Gary” based on what you thought and ignore what your gut was telling you, when “‘Gary” turns out to be something other than what you thought, where’s the issue with trust here?  Is it with “Gary” or does that lack of trust really lie with you?

The guy who wrote this post – and like so many other men are saying – said that he’s having a hard time finding a guy to top him even though he lives in a city that, at least in my opinion, ain’t what I’d call a “dick desert.”  The truth is that where this guy lives, there are probably way too many guys who’d be genuinely willing to fill his ass with cock and cum… but when you start nitpicking things, you greatly reduce your chances of finding a guy you can truly resonate with and now this situation is akin to the old saying, “Water, water everywhere – but not a drop to drink.”  It’s like wanting steak but you can only afford hamburger (which, by the way, can also be ground steak) and you’re just being so extraordinarily picky that you don’t want to admit that hamburger would satisfy your hunger just as much as a steak would.  But guys are, seemingly, now very much into instant gratification:  I want what I want and the way I want it and nothing else will ever be good enough and while this might be all well and good because, you know, you deserve to have exactly what you want, it still seems to me that thinking like this is a damned good way to make sure you never, ever, get dick.

Period.  There are guys who have been sitting on the bench for years waiting for that one guy they can trust but they’re also unwilling to expand what this means to themselves and, again, to really trust themselves.  Sure, no one likes making a mistake in these things but I maintain and submit that if you never make a mistake, you never learn how to make things right.  On a different topic, a member was talking about his quest to find Mr. Right and, for him, that meant turning down any guy who seemed to be Mr. Right Now… but, now he was wondering why he wasn’t getting the dick he so very much craved.  I pointed out to him that if one doesn’t check out Mr. Right Now, uh, how do you know he couldn’t be Mr. Right?  Yes, it’s a chance one winds up taking but, again, it’s not as much of a thing of trusting him as it is trusting yourself to make the best decision you can make.

Trust isn’t instantaneous; trust has to be built over time but it seems that some guys are treating the trust issue in the same way they deal with attraction:  If it doesn’t happen immediately and instantly, then it’s no deal and, I dunno, maybe this is easier than taking the time to find the attraction in the other person and if the “chemistry” isn’t there right away, well, it can be worked on just like everything else can, oh, like trust, for example.  Bi guys want it to be “perfect” each and every time and that’s just pie-in-the-sky thinking that doesn’t quite jive with reality.  We have expectations and it seems that if a guy doesn’t or can’t meet those expectations, well, perhaps, he cannot be trusted or even shouldn’t be trusted… but can anyone really and truly live up to the expectations of others?  Hell, can you live up to your own expectations?  We all try to… doesn’t always work that way so now we’re back to the trust thing, i.e., we trust that the other guy is gonna do his best in whatever we need him to do with, to and for us – and we trust that we’ve made the best decision possible for ourselves.

And if you never put yourself in a position to get this particular ball rolling in the first place, guess what ain’t gonna happen?  With my finger gently on the pulse of male bisexuality, I see things that I find disturbing in that while we expect women to make getting with them a fairly difficult thing to do, some guys appear to be borrowing that inherent female difficulty and using it to make decisions that, at the end of the day, finds them not getting the M2M sex they want.  Now, I understand the concerns women have that makes getting with them hard to do and, yes, it’s a trust issue but when you’ve had guys just abuse the trust you gave them, well, sure, it makes it pretty damned hard to trust another guy going forward.  And that makes sense… what doesn’t make sense is a guy who has never, ever had sex with another man behaving in this manner or if another guy has never betrayed your trust, why are you behaving this way?  If a guy is instantly or automatically not trust another man – and, believe me, that actually makes sense because we know good and damned well how we can be when it comes to sex – then, um, exactly what the hell are you doing wanting to trust someone who, historically, could be untrustworthy?  Kinda doesn’t make sense, does it?

Someone asked me what I thought was the biggest hurdle faced by bisexual men and my answer was that we make this shit harder to do than it needs to be; we set the bar ridiculously high as well as entertaining unrealistic expectations; we seek “perfection” in something that is, by its very nature, imperfect.  We let our fears stop us dead in our tracks and assume that all of those fears will be realized the moment we wrap our hand around another man’s cock – and we fear being displeased and disappointed just as much as we fear displeasing someone and disappointing them.  It remains true, however, that if you don’t do a thing, you cannot fail at doing it… but if you don’t fail, you never learn how to do it without failing a whole lot.  The pulse says that male bisexuality is alive and well but, perhaps, running a little fast and all because, again, we’re making this harder than it has to be and as long as men keep doing this in their pursuit of M2M sex, a whole lot of guys are never gonna get to play with a dick and no matter much they want and need to do this.

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: The Path

In often hushed conversations, we talk about what two men do when they decide to get naked and have sex with each other.  In somewhat louder conversations, we talk about the issues, including mental and physical health.  In a cacophony of voices, we debate whether or not bisexual men really do exist; they question the motives of bisexual women who, allegedly dangle the word bisexual before men and in the form of bait or simply a bald-faced lie as well as whether or not bisexuality is a true sexual orientation or it’s just a way point on the road to full homosexuality.  Researchers do their best to study, to identify, to qualify and quantify; science brings the scientific principles to bear and apply the tools of their respective trades to look for the source of this behavior and even to the genetic level within the double helix known as our DNA.  Some say it’s biological and speak to the potential that exists within all of us while some say it’s social and that life’s pressures – as well as a disregard for morality and its norms – is the culprit for this sinful behavior.

The things we don’t talk a lot about are why someone decides that bisexuality works for them and how someone winds up on the path.  One of the reasons, I think, is that while many can find themselves walking this path, the devil is in the details and if you asked one hundred bisexual men about the how and why of their choice, you’ll get one hundred answers that, at first, doesn’t seem to have any… uniformity or, trying to find better words here, it seems as if everyone’s reason is unique and lacks a type of consistency so that we can use a blanketing approach and say that all men are bisexual because of this or that element or method.  We can point to things like youthful experimentation; we can point to events like the scandal the Catholic Church is still trying to sweep under the rug (and, apparently, not for the first time).  I’ve heard it said that the recent accomplishments made on the political front where the growing alphabet soup of the LGBT community has had an effect in lessening the angst toward homosexuality and this is allowing these alleged bisexuals to jump on the bandwagon and in greater numbers and this is despite some in-house fighting and discussions about the validity of the “B” in LGBT.

Cityman, in his opening statement for one of our many conversations asked, “So, what is that enables men to go from cock aversion to cock positive and carefree?”  In many ways, the question is somewhat rhetorical because, as one such guy, he’s made this transition and he knows, obviously, exactly how he got to where he is now on the path – that and we’ve had this particular conversations hundreds of times, not because of a lack of understanding on anyone’s part but because it’s such an interesting thing to talk about and more so when, these days, there seems to be a lot of men stepping onto the path but, curiously, aren’t really sure why this path has gone from something they don’t think about to becoming a nearly all-consuming and somewhat obsessive need.  Adding a bit more intrigue to this question are indications of men deciding to walk this path – but many without, ahem, prior experience – and displaying a sense of certainty of what it is they wish to experience at this point.

Just how does a guy go from, “Ew – that’s some nasty shit!” to “Man, I had no idea what I was missing all this time!”?  Again, the devil is in the details and one of the things researchers have a problem with is finding enough men (in particular) who are willing to sit down with them and tell their stories so that they can find a focal point or some other commonality that they can point to and say, with a high degree of certainty, “Aha! This is why bisexual men are bisexual men!”  Certainly, youthful curiosity, which often leads to experimentation, can be pointed to although I’m not sure it’s understood just how the idea or though to do this appears in the first place.  We grudgingly accept that it happens, that it’s not really all that unusual for young boys to develop an interest in sex and experimentation is off and running and that particular trigger could very well be linked to the moment our testicles descend into their proper place and we’re now on our way to puberty.  It must be mentioned that not all boys experiment with other boys; some do limit their early experimentation to girls or they don’t experiment at all because, well, that can kinda get you into trouble – I’m sure you’ve all heard the warnings and admonishment about this sex thing, right?

Sometimes, it begins with a question:  What is it like to suck someone’s dick or to get screwed?  I don’t know of too many guys who haven’t asked a gal this question and if she answers, the best she can offer is, “I dunno… it feels good…” or whatever their opinion of this sex thing is.  Sometimes the question/answer lingers in the back of their minds, sometimes it’s asked, answered, and forgotten since, “It feels good” isn’t a very detailed answer and some have equated this to trying to describe color to someone who can’t see; it can be done but it ain’t easy.  We can, in part, point to instances where men and their interactions with women, um, don’t quite go well; I’ve seen and heard many times how some guy who has some issue with women go through the gamut of negative emotions and because of this, wind up on the path; some guys ask another question, like, “Is this all there is to it?” and they know it isn’t because, as I’ve written more times than I care to think about, there aren’t too many people who don’t know that there are men who have sex with other men and if they don’t know this, it’s because they haven’t found out yet.

Some guys wind up on the path and can legitimately blame it on the alcohol, which is well-known for lowering inhibitions; in some men, other life issues can open the door for a guy to wind up on the path, i.e., depression, frustration, grief and, to some extent, anger.  Under these conditions, it’s not like a guy experiences these things and says that he’s gonna go suck a dick as a “cure” for these things… but for a lot of men, everything just lines up in the right way and at the right time and something like the bro-job happens.  Some guys are just curious – period.  They become aware of the conversations about homosexuality and, at times, just wonders what the big deal is other than what’s obviously being said about it.  There must be something to it because if there wasn’t, there wouldn’t be so many men doing it to each other, right?  Doesn’t mean they’re suddenly gonna run out and find the answer to this… but it also doesn’t mean that some guys won’t think that doing some further investigation is, indeed, warranted.

This is one of those things where thinking and doing aren’t the same things; a guy can have some thoughts about this – good, bad, or indifferent – but that’s usually not enough impetus to nudge a guy onto the path.  There are some events that will just shove a guy onto the path but it also seems that there are things going on in the background – in one’s subconscious – that are hard at work and building in strength… and things that our conscious mind isn’t even aware of.  As I’ve said, there was a time when I’d say that a man just does not wake up one morning and decide that having sex with another guy is a good thing to do… and I’ve since recanted this because, apparently, it’s quite possible that this is what can happen and is evidenced by a huge number of men asking, “Why do I have this urge to suck cock?” – but it’s something that happens over time and all that’s needed is something to trigger a guy from though to action.  We wonder just how a guy just seems to know that doing this simply makes sense and as if there’s some logical progression at work and if a guy speaks about this and is asked why, all of a sudden, he wants to do something like this, the answer usually boils down to them just having a feeling… but they have no idea where this feeling came from.  In my opinion, I think we can point the finger at the subconscious, that sneaky bastard but I’ll be damned if it can be definitely proven.

Nothing else seems to make sense, though.

Even though turning thought into action is pretty damned scary – and I’m probably understating this a bit – should a guy get triggered to act or Mr. Murphy shows up in the right place and time and gives a guy a good shove in that direction, a guy will have an experience and he’ll either like it, won’t like it, or even be unsure about whether he liked it or not.  Some guys try it and, yuck; some guys try it and have an epiphany – God only knows how many men I’ve personally heard say that it wasn’t as bad as they though it was and asking why they waited so long before doing this.  Then it’s all about narrowing down that which they like doing – and before I forget, I must mention that some guys try it, find it not to their liking, vow to never do it again… and do it again and I think that their subconscious waves its mysterious fingers and points out to the guy that, hey, you know, just because you didn’t like it that first time doesn’t mean that, if you give it another guy, you still won’t like it.  Indeed, some guys have a less than stellar first experience… but the second one?  Wow… just wow.

The problem comes up when we get conflicted:  We’re thinking and/or doing something that, historically, is seen as being as wrong as anything can be… but if this is true, why does doing it make so much sense and, importantly, why does it feel right?  I remember asking Cityman, during a conversation some time ago and along this same topic of discussion, if he had noticed that when he sucked dick for the first time, he just knew how to do it.  He thought about it for a moment and allowed that, yeah, it did seem like he knew exactly what to do and even allowed that he knew this because, duh, it’s not like he’s never seen a woman blowing him before and, double duh, there’s a guy in the middle of sucking his dick so figuring out what to do is kinda like a no-brainer.  Or is it?  Sure, this explanation makes a lot of sense but how does a guy who has never had oral sex figure this out?  Ah, you might be thinking that porn is the easy answer and you’d be right in that “if you can see it, you can do it” kind of way… but that doesn’t explain how a guy who hasn’t watched porn (and for whatever reason he hasn’t) also just knows how to do something he’s never seen or experienced before the moment he gives in to the urge to do it.

And if all of this is giving you a mild headache, you can probably imagine what it does to those people whose job it is to figure this all out and make sense of it.  Homosexuals have long insisted that they were born this way and that choice had nothing to do with it… and they’re partially right, I think.  We are all born with the potential to do this and thanks to evolutionary process, like the famous flatworm experiment where a flatworm was taught a trick and once it had it down pat, it was dissected and fed to other flatworms who could now perform the same trick taught to the late-lamented original flatworm.  We’re more complex than flatworms, of course, but there’s the fact that way back in time, two guys somehow got together and had sex with each other and it just kept going until it became a part of our makeup – those first men learned the “trick” and the rest of us have learned it as well but that’s where choice comes in because, sorry gay folks, you do choose to act on your feelings or not but it’s such a “natural” thing that choice doesn’t seem to play a part – it just makes sense.

When we look at sexuality, it’s not always about what we do:  It’s all in why we do what we do.  What drives us, what conditions exist or are happened upon that are powerful enough to break our social conditioning and set us on the path of doing something that’s morally reprehensible and, to many, just down right nasty?  The path has always been there and many have walked upon it prior to bisexuality becoming a hot-button topic.  We talk about what – all that cock sucking and ass fucking – but, clearly, we need to look to the why and how of this.  How does a guy who says that there’s no way in hell that he’d let some dude suck his dick one day find himself getting sucked off by a guy… and loving every moment of the experience?  How does a guy who’d say that he’d fight to the death to keep himself from getting fucked in the ass “suddenly” have a change of heart and mind and determine that having this experience is just what the doctor ordered?  How does anyone go from, “I’d never do some shit like that!” to “I can’t get enough of doing this shit!”?

In the here and now, we have more questions than answers but in order to understand the path, we must keep asking the questions and looking for the answers although, at a high level, it’s probably just easier to say that people are bisexual because they can and want to be… but you should know how we are – it’s just not enough to accept such a simple answer because there’s got to be some other reason that explains this…