So. Having a boyfriend. A major shock to my system and as transformative as anything I’d ever experienced at that time. From the beginning, the Specter of Gayness hung over everything and us guys weren’t really afraid to have sex with a guy but what did scare us was being some guy’s boy- or girlfriend and really being a homo.
Growing up and running into a lot of guys – and some of which weren’t bi – who were of a mind that, okay, maybe having sex with a dude wasn’t that bad but the fear of turning into a gay dude – and an effeminate one – and being someone’s boy- or girlfriend was so bad that guys who might’ve been okay getting or giving a blowjob used this aspect to not even go there. Among a lot of us – and myself included – to think that we could fall in love with a guy and be in a relationship with him was… beyond patently ridiculous. Whenever this conversation came up, we’d categorically deny the possibility of this happening with a dude and loudly profess and proclaim our great love and need for women and their pussies.
Indeed, among us bi guys, many of us were of a mind that women were for love and relationships and men were for sex-only. I learned that I “wasn’t the only one” running into gay men who wanted to have sex but they were also looking for someone they could be in a loving relationship with and, well, um, nah, man, that ain’t gonna happen. On the one hand, I felt… flattered that a gay guy could have feelings for me other than lust and, years later, I would realize that I’d been “hiding” my own more emotional feelings for certain guys but, on the other hand, nope. We can have all the sex you care to, but we are not going to be in a relationship because I am not going to give up wanting to be with a woman.
A bit embarrassing to look back and see the way I was thinking about this. I never had a problem with gay guys and definitely didn’t have a problem having sex with them, but a relationship was asking for too much. Anchoring this position was the “horror stories” I was hearing from both sides of things where gay men were getting their hearts broken by bi guys and bi guy saying that being in a relationship with a gay man was worse than being in a relationship with those crazy women. Hearing all of this lent credibility to the crap I was hearing about bi guys not being able to commit to being with just one person and we were all serial cheaters, so on and so forth. I felt that it was a lot of sour grapes being “tasted” by both sides of this argument and more so when I’d gotten totally disabused about my belief in the sanctity of marriage and being monogamous. That, all by itself, rearranged my thinking about relationships and sexuality and given what I had been forced to learn and accept, sure, I could see why the sour grapes existed; some gay men were looking for loving and monogamous relationships and just like straight and bi men were and the only real difference was who we wanted this with.
But having a boyfriend? Pffft! Even with my new understanding of things, I maintained that it couldn’t happen to me. And then, it did. “Holy shit” didn’t begin to explain how it made me feel, let alone how “fast” this all happened. He was an amazing kind of guy, quite effeminate, but, yeah, he was cool. He’d flirt with me at times and I was okay with it because I could play the “flirt game” with the best of them because flirting doesn’t always mean intent toward anything else. We became good friends, and we had a lot in common. I remember us talking about the “differences” between being gay and bi and given the sour grapes being sown all over the place by gay men who, again, got their hearts crushed by bi guys, it was educational talking to him about these things.
Okay. He played the shit out of me and to this very day, I still get that look on my face thinking about how smoothly he pulled the wool over my eyes and me thinking that we were just and only engaging in friendly guy-play. I knew that I cared about him; the caring, I would later see, went a lot deeper because I was aware that something was really bothering him but he was refusing to talk about it and it was frustrating because he was too nice of a guy to keep whatever was bothering him on the inside. One day, he stopped by and asked, “How do you tell a guy that you have feelings for him and without him losing his mind about that?”
I was… out of my element on this one but I knew what it was like to have feelings for a woman and being scared shitless to tell her about it and, well, you just roll the dice and take the chance that you can tell the guy and he doesn’t freak out about it. Of course, I wanted to know about the guy who he had these feelings for and, again, I got played because as he was telling me about him, I had no idea that he was talking about me! I would realize that I was so caught up in being happy for him because he’d finally found a guy he could love that I was “blind” to what was really going on.
“So I should just tell him how I feel, huh?” he had asked.
“That’s what I would do,” I said.
And… he told me how he felt about me. When he said, “I’ve been in love with you from the moment I first met you…” everything fell into place and I do mean everything and I also knew that the feelings I had for him was… love. I was stunned; dumbfounded; confused but not really because everything he had been saying to me and doing was now seriously clear to me and I knew what I was feeling for him was real and… where did this fucking come from? It was… I can’t think of a word to describe the elation I felt. We were already connected and now we were really connected. All of this was running through my head from the moment those words were uttered by him and, in real time, it only took me a couple of seconds to tell him, “I… I don’t know what to say!” but deep inside, I knew what to say and I practiced what I had just preached to him and told him that I loved him, too.
It was like being pleasantly high. Y’all know how you’ve felt when you knew you were in love with someone, right? He’s smiling and tears were rolling down his face and I’m smiling even though there was a part of me wondering what the fuck just happened. He knew I was married – my wife got along with him amazingly well – and he knew that our marriage was open but I “kind of” remember us talking about the implications of our feelings and I do remember asking him, “So, what do we do now?”
“You should make love to me,” he said. “Whatever happens is going to happen…”
What I would later see as being significant was that at no time before this revelation, I never had any sexual interest in him despite how we’d flirt with each other and toss around sexual innuendos like they were a ball. The “shit” got seriously real, seriously fast and I really don’t know what I was thinking when he said that I should make love to him but I do remember… shrugging and… we naked and going for it and intensely so. I… laid waste to him; I would, again, later, understand that in that moment, everything I felt about him came to the surface and powered how our first time having sex went. As I was making love to him like there was no tomorrow, I was thinking… is this really just lust? Just me giving in to a sexual interest in him that I wasn’t really aware of? The lust was real and instantaneous but that wasn’t what was driving things.
I had sex with him and like I hadn’t had sex with any of the other guys I’d ever had sex with. I held nothing back and I ravished the shit out of him and so “badly” that he was crying uncontrollably which, at first, scared the shit out of me because I thought that I was hurting him but he assured me that I wasn’t – he was crying because he was happy and more so when it had been a long time since he’d been happy. Dear lord… I just kept taking him over and over; every time I thought I was “done,” I wasn’t and I loved him even more because he was so… responsive and so into it; he wasn’t holding anything back, either and I remember that making love to him was better than making love to a lot of the women I’d had sex with. Not better than sex with my wife but, yeah, holy shit… it was right up there with the best sex I’d ever had with anyone.
I had… put him to sleep. I sat beside him and just looked at him and felt so much love for him that I was having a major problem understanding it – and I still wanted to keep ravishing him and that, all by itself, had surprised and baffled me. He opened his eyes – they were the prettiest green – and… I took him again; inside my head, I’m asking myself, “What the hell is going on?” and… I had no answer and didn’t much care if there was an answer. What I knew was that I loved this very gay man and because I did, it was going to change me forever.
I remember him going back to sleep and I reluctantly left him alone because there was something important I had to do: Tell my wife what happened and why it did. I was really afraid because I didn’t know how she was going to react to me telling her that he said he was in love with me and I said that I was in love with him but I had to tell her so I did. As I related it all back to her, I was waiting for the shoe to drop; she had shifted her position in bed and I almost jumped out of my skin, which made me feel pretty stupid, by the way. I finally got it all out and fell silent. We’re looking at each other and it’s killing me because I’m waiting for her to say… something. Anything. Just put me out of my “misery” already! She… blinked, looked at me and said, “I think it’s so cute!”
And jumped the shit out of my bones. Our bed was one of the old kind that had slats and… two of the four slats got broken and one of the rails holding the box spring in place got detached from the headboard. It hadn’t escaped me that I’d just got done making love to him several times and I didn’t have anything left in the tank but, apparently, I did. We got done making love and, crap, gotta fix the bed and while I’m looking at what got broken and thinking about fixing/replacing stuff, she said, “I knew how he felt about you; I knew that he wanted you because he had asked me if he could have you and I told him to go for it. I’m just surprised it took y’all this long to realize how you felt about each other and to… consummate things.”
Wait, what? A lot of other “shit” fell into place; it would explain why I’d see the two of them talking and, as the old folks liked to say, my “ears were burning.” I’d never bothered to ask her what they talked about because… it wasn’t any of my business and if it was something she wanted me to know, she’d tell me – but she didn’t tell me this! Years later, I would be thinking and reliving this moment in my life and wondered what, if anything, would have happened if she had told me before all of this went down. Would the same thing have happened? Would it have happened differently?
So… now I have a boyfriend. I was in love with a man. His… feminine behaviors drove me insane because, I would realize later, he just didn’t behave like other gay dudes I’d been sexually involved with. He, um, shit, he behaved like a woman. We had had that early rush of sexual excitement between us and… it didn’t “decline” one bit. He made me batshit crazy giving me blowjobs and no matter what I was doing at the time. I loved him for it… and it made me crazy at the same time. We’d make love and he would cry the whole time and I just wasn’t used to it… coming from a guy. When I wasn’t literally looking over my shoulder to see where he was, we… talked. He gave me a masterclass in… gay men. The sexual parts of his “class” I already knew about but it was the emotional part that I didn’t know a lot about because… I didn’t want to know about it and I didn’t want to because I had believed that what had happened to me… could never happen.
I’d find myself apologizing to him for being stupid about this and for being ignorant about how love didn’t give a fuck about the things we thought and believed it to be. It… just is. Not just something felt between men and women or men and men or even women in those combinations. The more I learned from him, the more I loved him. At one point, he told me that one of the things he really loved about me was… I wasn’t gay. Okay, if I hadn’t been confused before, I was really confused now! But he made me understand it. One of the things he had said was that he knew that I was “The One” because he got to see me interacting with my wife and could feel the love we had for each other as well as being daring enough to “spit in the face of what marriage is supposed to be like” so that we could go about being married in the way that worked best for us.
He had said my bisexuality was a breath of fresh air and so different from “just dealing with gay guys;” he said that I understood a lot of things that the gay men he’d been involved with didn’t or couldn’t understand. It was hard for me to wrap my head around a lot of this but I had to… because I loved him. He still made me crazy, but I was getting yet another masterclass in how to understand him, why he was the kind of guy he was, and what made being in love with me so very important. He even got a chance to find out what it’s like to have sex with a woman; I was shocked when my wife invited him to join us one night and even more shocked when he accepted even though he knew what he was being invited to get himself into. I had believed that a gay man (a) wouldn’t want to have sex with a woman and (b) wouldn’t like it and… he changed my mind about being that narrowminded.
“I understand now,” he said after all of the dust settled. “I understand why you love her so much and, um, well, shit – sex with a woman isn’t that bad, huh?”
“I never thought so,” I said with a laugh. I thought that this experience wasn’t going to “make him less gay” or anything like that but that he was willing to do what some gay men wouldn’t dare to do just made me love him even more. I would often find myself sitting and thinking about all of this and… it felt good. It made sense. I’m not only married to a woman I was very madly in love with but in a relationship with a “very gay man” who I also loved.
It broke my heart when it all came to a screeching halt. Other circumstances had him living with us and that was both fine and, of course, convenient but his world came apart when he got word that his grandmother – and the woman who raised him – had died and he had to leave to take care of things. I understood that he had to go but, at the same time, I also knew that I’d never see him again. He knew it, too, and it sucked that all we had with each other had to end. He had cried when we talked about what he had to do and… I cried with him. I cried when I told my wife about the call he’d gotten and what he had to do. I’d gotten my heart crushed before… but not like this. Not like this. I didn’t want him to leave but I knew he had to deal with this responsibility. I wanted him to come back to me… and I cried knowing that he wouldn’t and because he couldn’t. As we both understood things, his grandmother had put certain stipulations in her will as far as her estate and his rather impressive inheritance was concerned and it all added up to… us never seeing each other again. And, no, he never told her about our relationship, and it made me… feel better about things because her will didn’t read the way it did because of our relationship.
She’d known that he was gay and encouraged him to be the person he needed to be. He… wasn’t happy about the conditions and terms of her will and it was the first time I actually saw him get angry; I’d felt sorry for the lawyer that had called him and if you think getting cussed out by a woman is bad, that poor guy found out what it was like to get cussed out by a very effeminate gay man – and I learned some new cuss words.
I learned a lot of things in our time together. Being with him changed a lot of things I had in mind about love, sex, relationships, and sexuality, both bi- and homosexual. Love just is. It doesn’t care about the shit we care about and it’s not what we think it is. Once upon a time, I said that it was impossible for me to fall in love with a man, that it couldn’t and wouldn’t happen. And now? I won’t ever say never again about this or anything else in life. I have never tried to find him; I still wonder what happened to him and… I don’t know why I didn’t want to find him even though, once the internet came along, it would – and is – possible for me to do so. I can’t explain it but, strangely, I’m okay with it. Of all the people I have ever loved in my life, my love for him is right there at the top of that list. They say that time heals all wounds but this one has never healed, and I don’t want it to because it allows me to remember him and how he changed my life.
I see bi guys going on and on about them wanting a guy they can be FWB with but things falling short of feelings other than lust being involved and a sexual relationship turning into more than just that and I think that… there’s some stuff that they either don’t understand or are afraid of. I see the guy I mentor being “weird” about his FWB turning into his boyfriend and, well, there’s actually nothing unusual with that because there have always been bi guys who don’t mind having sex with a gay man… as long as it doesn’t turn into something else. Being in love with a man is a topic that comes up on the forum at times and while there are some guys who want to be in love with a guy, there are so many more who believe that… it’s impossible. Not ever going to happen because they love women (and pussy) too much to, presumably, give it up and because they assume that being in love with a guy demands giving it up. I learned that these assumptions are warranted because of the many times I’d gotten with a gay guy and he tried to “turn me to the gay side” and those who give me shit because they knew that I couldn’t and wouldn’t be monogamous with them and that I would cheat on them because I said that there was no way I was going to give up my love of women (and pussy)… because I didn’t have to.
There’s a current topic on the forum about “going gay.” I’ve read the responses the guy have been providing and many of them… don’t get it. They don’t get that love… doesn’t give a flying fuck about sexuality. But I understand that, and I find their responses – which, so far, is nope – not gonna go gay – interesting. It’s always been interesting in these things that one is expected to give up one thing in order to have another but this is because of what and how we believe The Big Three is supposed to be. I understand why my protege stops short of saying that he’s in a “loving relationship” with his FWB and I do get a kick of him tap-dancing all around his feelings for the guy – and feelings that have nothing to do with with the sex they’ve been having.
I asked him the other day, “When’s the wedding?” and I wasn’t really joking about asking him that. He sent back an “LOL” as a response and I just nodded to myself because I can see where his relationship with his FWB could go… if he wasn’t afraid for it to go there. I had asked him, on another occasion, if he could see himself living a “gay existence.” He… waffled all over the place with his answer to that and I knew that he’d already been subjected to guys wanting to be in a relationship with him as long as he would be totally monogamous with them and… he gives up women and everything about them. I knew about the guys who were…. pissy and flat out jealous that my boy was having sex with women and even other guys. So his reluctance to say that he’d want to be in a “real relationship” with his FWB makes sense to me and more so when this guy is… giving him some shit about consorting with women.
Having a boyfriend taught me some shit about this. I would hazard the guess that being with him put me on a path of understanding that regardless of sexuality, we all want the same things out of life: Love, sex, and relationships. He “made me” understand that any of these three things can be found with… anyone. A lot of bi guys head for the hills if a guy gets in his feelings and/or things look like they’re turning into something more than just sex because being gay is a “ghost” that still fucks with a lot of men. Guys like to ask if you’d leave your woman to be with a man – and only with him – and most guys say some form of “Fuck no!” I say that I wouldn’t say that it could or would never happen because I learned a very powerful lesson about saying that.
The Specter of Gayness still fucks with a lot of guys. Some guys get to feeling some kind of way over the fact that if you have sex with a guy, it’s called “gay sex.” It doesn’t mean that the men in a sexual situation are gay – but we assume that one or both are and has to be and because we know what “being gay” means – being into men and only into men and no… departure from this is allowed. I told my protege and after one of his early FWB got into his feelings and was demanding exclusivity as well as demanding that he stop having sex with women that it shouldn’t surprise him because the guy wanted the same thing that everyone else wants: Someone they can call their own and let no one put asunder. He was, at the time, most upset about how this had developed and I ended the conversation by saying, “Well, that’s what you get for being good at what you do…” and I didn’t mean hs sexual prowess – but I did mean that my protege is the kind of person that you’d want to be with and, yeah, as far as some gay men are concerned, he’d make a guy the perfect boyfriend or even husband so I’m not surprised that there are guys trying to take him off the market.
It’s… a human thing, really. My boyfriend taught me that.
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