Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: “Did You Do It?”

Once myself and the rest of the fellas started ejaculating for real, this question got asked a lot; if the answer was yes, there was often great joy, for lack of a better word at the moment, to know that you got the mysterious and dreaded (to girls) baby-making stuff shot into you. It was… satisfying for a guy to put it in you and shoot and as compared to how some guys reacted to getting a mouthful of the stuff and, I think, more so when in those early moments of being able to do it, there was a lot of it and usually thick and whey-like. I also thought that some guys liked it better to have all that stuff shot into their butt because they didn’t have to taste it or otherwise deal with the consistency of it.

If the answer was no or not yet, there was much… angst and along the lines of, “What are you waiting for?” along with suggestions to hurry up and do it and now would be a good time. For myself and many of the other guys, if you stuck it in and didn’t shoot the stuff in, well, being pissed about it kinda covers it for the most part; I know that any time a guy didn’t do it, it was like we went through all of that for nothing and, indeed, took the fun out of being screwed. There were allowances made for those moments when time was of the essence or there was a greater risk of getting caught doing it but I think a lot of us who enjoyed being screwed quickly became of a mind that if there was no time to do it and get the stuff shot in, there was no point in doing it; it was easier to suck each other until we shot and call it a day.

It was often funny to hear girls ask this question and probably because they couldn’t feel our pricks convulsing inside of them and wasn’t paying much attention to what was going on with us as we shot our stuff but they, too, would get some kind of bent out of shape if you didn’t shoot it in them and even more pissed if, somehow, you didn’t get it in them but got it all over them. Methinks because, in those early days, we could develop a bit of a hair trigger, some girls would let us know that we’d better not shoot the stuff before we stuck it in; you knew that if that happened, every girl in the area would find out about it in a hurry; not only would they talk about you in some unkind ways, it very much lessened your chance to do it to the other girls.

The fellas weren’t that much different in this regard and a kind of “prejudice” started making the rounds against those guys who weren’t shooting the stuff yet; “once upon a time,” it was da shit to be able to do it repeatedly and only get that “good feeling” for a moment but for reasons I didn’t understand, it was so much better to do it with a guy who was shooting the stuff and more so when he stuck it in your butt and shot his stuff in there. Messy as all get out but that was a “problem” to be dealt with after the fact because getting screwed and getting the stuff shot into you was, again, so satisfying and you felt… complete. Among us horny-assed kids, the consensus was that if the sex didn’t end with stuff being shot in, well, why did we bother about doing it at all?

And if you didn’t or couldn’t do it, what was wrong with you since so many of us were doing it with great glee to be able to make all of that stuff come out, you know, after we got over the shock that it was happening to begin with. Yeah… my first time doing it was hilariously memorable but, as you might imagine, it wasn’t even funny when it happened and even I feel… silly to recall how I thought I was dying. The thing I also remember was how excited the girl was when she said that I’d done it (and said it a few times before it finally registered in my very addled brain) and when I asked, “I did what?” she pointed down to her pussy and said, “Look!” and, sure enough, there was a whole of of… stuff flowing out of her and I’m still not sure how I immediately knew that the stuff was the baby-making stuff I’d heard about. She’d gleefully asked me to do it again and I did and the second time wasn’t as terrifying as the first time was nor was the third time.

I was confused and she was deliriously happy about it. While a lot of girls were scared to death of the baby-making stuff (and for good reason) some remained scared – and highly pissed – if we shot it in them after they told us not to and others were quite happy that we did that and, um, that happiness would turn into something else if, upon request, we couldn’t do it again and right away. Amongst us guys, wow, it was the greatest thing ever discovered! I very much remember the first time I shot my stuff into another guy’s mouth (which was the very next day after discovering I could do that) and I remember the look on his face; surprised, then I’d say thoughtful in that “what is this” way, then grinning like an idiot before he, um, threw it back up. That didn’t “ruin” the moment for him and when I sucked on his dick, a few moments later, he went through the same thing I had the day before… and now we’re both grinning like idiots and couldn’t wait to let – and show – the other guys what we could now do and, much to our delight, it seemed to me that after I did it for the first time, the other guys were literally days behind me in finding out that they could shoot the stuff, too, although there were some guys who weren’t able to and wouldn’t for another couple of years.

It made sticking our dicks into each other’s butts a hell of a lot of fun. It felt weirdly good to feel the dick twitching and jerking and hearing the guy doing it making all kinds of funny noises and, yeah, looking like he was dying or something but, yeah, to be on the receiving end of the stuff, it just felt… right. Like things were made to be… complete. A guy would shoot it in, pull his dick out and it made me feel… empty while still feeling really good that he shot it in and, to me – and others – it made taking the risk of getting busted worth it… unless the guy wasn’t shooting the stuff and still just getting the twitching and jerking and just that good feeling. It made having it done to you… different. Not totally bad but not as good as getting your butt filled up with it.

We’d sit around talking about that at times. It would feel so good to feel the stuff – aka the jizz – being shot in and so good that feeling it would make some of us giggle and laugh… and I had no idea why (then or now); when I’d shoot my stuff in, if the guy or gal didn’t get a bad case of the giggles, they’d moan in a way that told you they were very happy that I shot my stuff in and a thing I could very much relate to. It just felt so good to have it shot into you and made any or all of the discomfort of getting it stuck in worth it. And, yeah, I’d be some kind of not happy if a guy didn’t/couldn’t shoot it in; getting screwed, on the whole, wasn’t that bad but to get screwed and wind up with stuff oozing out of your butt? Didn’t get much better than that and even when you might not really feel it being shot in but you knew he was doing it just the same.

Girls both liked it… and “hated” it at the same time. Things got to the point that if you weren’t shooting jizz, your chances of being able to do it to them were slim and none because they all pretty much said that if the jizz wasn’t being shot in, it didn’t feel all that good to get screwed… unless you were one of those [then] rare guys who’d lick and kiss their pussy… and for a long time, too. While it was true that some girls would egg a guy on to “do it” because she wanted him to get it over with, a lot of girls would eggs us on to do it and they’d get this look on their face as the jizz was being shot into them… and I can’t describe the look other than to use the word, “beatific.” What was funny was that I could shoot my jizz in, they’d get that look on their face and the moment I pulled it out, they’d get on my case about something or anything that, to me, defied that look and whatever it was they were feeling. They’d sometimes be very unhappy about me/us making such a mess down there but they were also happy about being messy, well, most of the time.

Girls would get that first visit from “The Cardinal” and shooting jizz in them became a very scary thing because they could now get “in trouble” – a very good reason why it was called the baby-making stuff. We’d be demanded not to shoot it in and we’d better pull it out before we did it – which, um, worked and not so much at times – but I’d notice a difference; if I pulled out before shooting, they didn’t seem to be all that “happy” as compared to when it got shot in and even when, uh-oh, I couldn’t get out in time. They’d be madder than wet hens… but some would grudgingly admit that, yeah, it made them feel really good to get creamed but you weren’t shit because you couldn’t pull it out before that happened.

Amongst us guys, yeah – if you pulled it out before you creamed us, there would be… words and the not-nice variety. The “consensus” was that if you fucked us, you had better cream us… or else. If you think that girls were able to gossip at the speed of light, we could, too, and the last thing you wanted having your reputation ruined by da fellas telling each other that you were scared to cum – and what a great word that was to learn – or that you didn’t or couldn’t. I heard stories about fights happening because the guy being fucked didn’t get creamed and while I never fought anyone over this, I very much did not like it when I’d get screwed and the guy didn’t cum inside me although, um, there was this one time when a guy pulled it out and shot it all over my cheeks and I got mad and punched him in the nose. I wasn’t feeling his explanation of wanting to see his stuff shooting out instead of creaming me because it felt as “bad” as, say, being screwed and things got interrupted and had to stop or, I guess, doubly bad to get interrupted and not get cum in your ass on top of things.

It made you feel like you went through all of that shit that led up to being screwed… for nothing.

Girls were… funny. They either wanted you to hurry up and cum… or they’d get pissed if you did it too fast or took too long to do it and if you didn’t cum in them, again, you could be assured that every girl in the area would find out about it quick, fast, and in a hurry. Most guys didn’t seem to care all that much if you came too fast – but some would pitch a bitch about that – and while many were very happy if it took the other guy a lot of time before he came, many of us – including myself – weren’t all that happy to be screwed for long periods of time and being made to wait for the cum to go in. You wanted and needed him to cum because the longer it took for him to do it, the more it tended not to feel all that good – that friction thing that guys learn that women aren’t fond of at all, not to mention having some guy pounding his dick into you hard and fast and there was no cum forthcoming… but if he was “hammering” your butt and making you wish he wasn’t doing that, when he came, that made it… better and not just because he was finally done screwing you.

I was talking to my protégé about this and when he was opining about the way bottoms behave when being screwed. At the time, he wasn’t of a mind to unload in a guy’s butt and would pull out before doing it and I’d asked him if he ever paid attention to the other guy when he’d do that or, even better, did he even notice how women behaved when he’d pull out of them and cum all over them. I wasn’t surprised when he said that he never noticed it and most guys don’t but, yeah, I did because… I paid attention to such stuff for some reason I can’t begin to explain. I told him that if a bottom agreed to being screwed, he was expected and even “demanded” to cum in him and if he didn’t, yeah, no, the guy probably wasn’t gonna feel the way he expected to feel.

When he’d gotten around to being screwed – and we’d talk about how girly and bitchy it made him feel to get boned – I had asked him if he noticed how he felt when (1) the guy pulled out and shot it all over the place and (2) when he didn’t and creamed him. He actually had to think about that but I think he was “surprised” to realized that being screwed felt much better when the guy would cum in him as opposed to feeling… incomplete when a guy would pull out and hose him down. He even saw that women would behave… differently in this even if he pulled out and as she said he should. Once I got him to “pay attention” to this, he was able to better understand why bottom guys would be over the moon to get creamed… but feeling some kind of way when he didn’t cream them.

Yeah, it tends to make a guy feel girly and bitchy but not in what anyone would call a bad way because you felt even “worse” when the guy pulled out or he’d cum in a condom; there was just… something about knowing you were getting creamed that made a difference and even with women who, of course, had a good reason for not wanting to get creamed but even some of them had told me that it wasn’t the same just to feel the dick pumping away and knowing the spunk wasn’t going in them.

I could relate wholeheartedly… because I would feel the same way about it. Getting your ass filled with dick and having it wreaking havoc with your prostate was all well and good… but if the guy didn’t (or couldn’t) cum in me, well, damn. I’d feel… incomplete and I still can’t think of a word that describes that feeling any better. It’d feel good to get screwed but, eh, not really if he didn’t cum in me or if he pulled it out and shot it all over me and, yeah, I’d be pissed like you wouldn’t believe and, at first, I didn’t understand why I’d be ready to kick his ass or I’d not be all that understanding if he couldn’t bust that nut in me. I was kinda/sorta beginning to understand that there was some… psychological thing going on that said that when you get screwed, getting a nut busted in you just made getting screwed… better. More complete. Satisfying even if you didn’t quite like the way he screwed you but because he nutted in you, that “made up” for whatever you didn’t like about how he went about busting a nut in you.

And I saw that women could react in very similar ways. I’d be screwing them and looking at them seeing the various reactions that were either good or “bad” – but when I’d cum, their whole demeanor changed and, nope, can’t think of a word to describe it; some would smile and some would actually giggle in that moment and their body would be like… damned if I know but it came to me that their body liked it even if they had something to say about the sex that was good, “bad,” or even indifferent. It was… different from that, “I am so glad this is over with!” thing but, again, it was something I could totally relate to since I was now very much aware of how my body reacted – and how I’d feel – when a guy came in me and compared to when he didn’t and yeah, even when I had that “I am so glad this is over with!” thing going on in my head.

You just feel… complete and I’m not 100% sure if this is biological or psychological but it just might be both when, at least in women and way, way back when being fruitful was very important, a woman would probably feel… complete knowing that she’d been inseminated and with the hope of conceiving and that sense of completeness just “carried over” and was being felt by women who weren’t all that interested in getting pregnant but it still felt… complete to get that nut busted in them and they wouldn’t be all that happy to not get creamed. What really baked my noodle, as I did my best to research this, was that guys could feel this way and more so when I’d feel that way and knew of the many guys I busted a nut in saying pretty much the same thing:

It just feels so good and complete to have a nut busted in you… even if, after the fact, you probably could and should have found something better to do. I’d often find myself stuck on stupid when a guy would ask what it felt like to have a guy cum in you… and I couldn’t say shit about how it felt other than it felt good and made me feel complete which isn’t that good of an answer. You enjoy – or endure – having him in your ass and wailing away and you’re just waiting for that moment to feel his cock swelling… then the pumping and, yeah, if he’s wearing a condom, it just does not feel the same. I don’t know if it’s the pumping action along and what it implies that is what’s going on… or it’s just that very “weird” and complete feeling knowing that you just got inseminated and, as I thought in a moment where I was being inseminated, “He’s trying to get me pregnant…”

That was probably one of the strangest things I’ve ever had pop into my head and it bugged me for a couple of days afterward. Of course, no way I’m getting pregnant but it was about how feeling him cumming in me made me feel in that moment and, again, other than that silly thought, I felt… complete. It felt indescribable to feel his cock pumping like crazy inside of me, well, until that thought popped into my head but, yeah, it felt really good and when he pulled out, there was that sense of emptiness that I’d only feel when a guy came inside me… and I knew a lot of guys who’d say similar things and, yep, not feeling all that “happy” if he pulled out or shot his load into a condom.

Weird, huh? Even going back in the day, “Did you do it?” carried much importance and if you said that you didn’t, well, it sucked to be you and the only thing that would save you from a lot of unwanted ridicule was that you hadn’t done it – yet and if that was the case, you’d better hurry the fuck up and do it and not just because you wanted it over and done with but because it just didn’t make you feel good if it wasn’t done or, yeah, completed. Girls felt that way about it and us guys did, too, it seemed. It could be summed up as a “total waste of time and energy” to be fucked and not get creamed and as expected and, perhaps, needed in a way that probably can’t easily be put into words. Like I said, getting interrupted was a forgivable “offense” but to not shoot your stuff in? You’d not be forgiven for that unless, of course, you were a girl and rightfully afraid to wind up in trouble but even they’d say that it just didn’t feel the same as when someone “screwed up” and shot it in them. They’d be pissed but would admit that it felt good to them at the same time… and you’d better not do that again when you were told not to.

It wasn’t quite the same thing when sucking a guy off but it very much sucked – and never in a good way – to spend all that time sucking his dick and he didn’t or couldn’t cum… in your mouth. If he did it any other way – and other than sticking it in and cumming – well, shit – where’s the fun in that and even if one hadn’t really acquired the taste; you could be more pissed about him not shooting it in your mouth than you would if he did because if he didn’t, you just felt… incomplete. Not as satisfied if he did and, again, that sense of complete satisfaction seemed to be in place even if his stuff tasted nasty and you wound up spitting it out. I’d be the first to admit that feeling his prick swell – then feeling it pumping away in mouth – felt incredibly good… even if/when I had it my mind that I’d be more than happy when he’d stop fucking around and bust that nut… and I’d hate to be you if you snatched the dick out of my mouth and shot your load. I still get pissed about that, by the way, even when I understand why it pisses me off and that’s because it makes me feel… incomplete and like I did all that work to get him to cum… only to have him not finish the way he was supposed to and how I wanted and needed him to.

Us guys talk about the reward we get for sucking a guy’s dick and I understand the sentiment given how labor-intensive it can be to suck dick… but I also think there’s even a bigger reward other than (1) the satisfaction of getting him off and (2) getting a mouthful of spunk because there is that warm and fuzzy feeling of… completeness that just isn’t there if his cum ain’t going in you somewhere.

I’d like to now thank porngirl for the inspiration for this one because we were having a conversation about this very thing and why it feels so good to get a nut busted in you and why it doesn’t feel all that good when that doesn’t happen. I’m still sure that I’ve not done a good job of putting it into words but I, as always, remain the bi guy who does know what this feels like and I’m doing my best to put it out there. I probably wouldn’t have been made aware of any of this if it hadn’t been for the guys and gals who’d ask me, “Did you do it?” and the “it” was cumming in them and that sense of importance that came with knowing that, yes, I most certainly did do it and the difference I’d see when I’d say, “No, not yet!” and that was either a good thing… or it wasn’t. If you were “late” doing it, okay but if you didn’t do it at all, you just weren’t looked upon with great favor because you just didn’t feel… complete if it didn’t happen at all or the guy shot it anywhere other than in you and, again, girls would be glad that you didn’t… and not so much.

Because there’s just… something about it that makes you feel good and complete.

 

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: Adapting on the Fly

It took three weeks and a day before “Brad” and I could agree to the terms of our meeting and the sex to be had. It wasn’t the longest negotiation I’d ever been a part of but I could understand why he needed to talk out everything that came to his mind; he wasn’t a rookie but he wanted to make doubly sure that he was gonna do this with the right person and for the right reasons and to the point that he really did want to know what size underwear I wore; I felt that he had asked that just to see if I was going to answer him without asking, “What does that have to do with what we’ve been talking about?” – but I did think it and found it amusing.

He was very specific about what he wanted to do and laid out a “script” where we’d literally feel each other out – but no kissing on the lips – for ten to fifteen minutes, followed by oral sex in the 69 position with him on top and, if I was agreeable, followed by him fucking me. He was adamant that he had no interest in being fucked and at the time, I was fine with that; between all of the pictures he’d sent me and having spent a lot of time really getting to know him (including what size underwear he wore), well, I was just okay with him wanting to screw me – just one of those things that feels right.

His… meticulous approach to our meeting kinda had me laughing – aloud and to myself – as he’d often repeat exactly how we should get to the agreed upon place, where that place was, and other stuff that cracked me up about how “Secret Squirrel” he was being to make sure that there would be no chance of him running into someone he knew and despite the fact that the hotel we were to meet at was across the state line by quite a bit. It wasn’t… unreasonable to me but just a reminder of some of the stuff guys go through to keep their secret a secret.

The big day arrives and per his plan, I arrive at the appointed time and parked in the space he’d said I should park in; the plan called for me to sit in my car for five minutes and only enter once he verified that I was in the parking space (he knew what my car looked like) and I couldn’t stop myself from laughing as he poked his head out of the room’s door and surveyed the area before waving at me to come on in; I was still trying not to laugh and half-expected him to ask me if I’d been followed. As an aside – and at this point – I had to admit to being indifferent about this due to how long it took before he finally agreed that we could do this along with all this sneaking around but I’d given my word that I’d be there and that we’d do what he’d planned for us.

Those first ten minutes were intense; I don’t think that I’d ever been felt up that much by anyone before and literally from the top of my head to the bottom of my feet; hell, my doctor didn’t examine me in such exacting detail! But it was nice and his touches weren’t rough or fumbling but reigning in my impatience was starting to wear on me; I wanted to get my mouth on his very nice erection two minutes into the literal feeling out process! We assumed the position to finally get to sucking each other and it was… nice and even comfortable and as we sucked each other, I was getting mentally prepared for him to enter me and “scratch” that particular itch that had been bothering me for a while. Finally, the moment came; Brad lubed both of us up, I was face down/ass up for him and as he had requested and specified and tingling in anticipation of feeling his large cock knob pressing against my hole, then slipping inside and when I felt it, oh, yeah – this was going to feel very good!

He’d barely gotten the head of his dick in me when he stopped… then withdrew and I didn’t have to wait long for him to answer the “question” that I was going to ask; he said, “I can’t do this; this doesn’t feel right!” I turned to look at him, thinking that he was having one of those “anal sex crises” that some guys ran into; sliding your dick into a guy’s ass always sounds like a hot thing to do until you actually have to do it. I found my voice and asked, “What’s wrong?” – but was also feeling a bit irritated thinking that I’d gone through all that “trouble” to make sure I was good and clean in there and now for nothing.

“I thought I wanted to fuck you; that’s what I wanted to do and what I’d planned for,” he said and, to me, looking confused. “But I think I want you to fuck me instead – that feels right to me. I know I’ve now changed things and if you’re not okay with that, I’ll understand.”

One of the things I understood about him was that he didn’t like things changing once he had a plan and set it in motion and he had made it a point to let me know how much he didn’t like last minute changes, making me wonder how he managed to get through his day since one never knows when change is going to come along. This was different for him and I understood that and all I said was, “Okay, if that’s what you want…”

He’d went to the bathroom to give himself as much of a soapy enema as he could and I could hear him talking to himself and seemed to be quit pissed that his script got changed. He returned and I screwed him and in between his moans and groans, he kept saying, “This feels right…” After I creamed him, I flipped him onto his back and went down on him which, I guess, was another change that he wasn’t expecting or had planned for. He started to object and I said, “Just lie back and let it happen; you owe me a nut and I’m going to get it from you, okay?” And, boy, did he give it to me! I had a bit of a problem keeping up with all the spunk he was pumping into my mouth and, not for the first time, had me wondering where guys who could cum like this kept all of it… and like they really were saving it up. I was… wistful to think, as I swallowed, that I could have had all of this in my ass…

“I didn’t plan on that to happen,” Brad said after he got his act back together. “I don’t know why this didn’t go as I planned it and I’m not sure why the change didn’t bother you.”

“Things don’t always go as planned, Brad,” I said. “I don’t know how many times I’ve been with someone and we planned on things happening a certain way… and the planned got changed. Unless it’s something you’re not agreeable with, you just go with it and “worry” about why things suddenly changed later. It didn’t bother me because I tend to expect things to change in some way and sometimes I’m the reason why a change has happened. If I haven’t learned anything else, I’ve learned to be adaptable because you never know when change is going to show up but if it doesn’t, that’s good, too.”

Brad, well, he had a hard time processing this and learned that it’s okay to have a plan but, as the saying goes, no plan survives first contact. As I had said to him, I don’t know how many times I’ve agreed to get with a guy, we both agreed that, say, there will be no fucking and right in the middle of sucking dicks, I’ve heard myself say, “Stick it in me and fuck me…” or I’ve heard the other guy say it. Having a plan or even an expectation of how things are going to go is all well and good but sometimes, being in the moment can bring change to the table and now it’s a matter of being able to adapt on the fly to any changes, you know, as long as the change that’s shown up is acceptable to all involved. With Brad, I hadn’t “planned” on fucking him since it wasn’t what we’d agreed to… but Mr. Murphy just loves to take the best laid plans and just fuck them up – and not always in a bad way.

Having said that, I’ve been with guys who, like Brad, had a plan and one they were dead set on sticking to no matter what… and, yeah, sometimes, it just doesn’t work like that. I’ve seen guys get upset or become unsure of what to do and, yep, not understanding why a change in the plan showed up but there’s a reason why having sex is often said to be done by going with the flow of things – it’s just that some plans never seem to account for going with the flow and being in the moment. Depending on the change, if no one minds, it doesn’t matter; sure, there can be an awkward moment as the change gets adjusted to and some can adapt and adjust easily enough… and some remain flummoxed and out of sorts because things didn’t happen the way they planned or expected them to.

And one should never really underestimate or take for granted the power sex has to effect change. We all have that list of things we’re not gonna do for anyone and for any reason and, as such, some changes just won’t be adjusted to or accepted; for example, if Brad had enacted a change where he wanted to tie me up before sticking it in, that change would have been rejected… because homey don’t play that. If he had wanted to do me in the missionary position, um, shit, I don’t particularly like that but I can do it so such a change would be acceptable. Even something as “simple” as going from a top/bottom 69 to a side by side deal – or switching places – is a change that can take place and, usually, not one that’s hard to adjust to but I’ve been with guys who have had a bit of a rough time adjusting on the fly if the starting position isn’t working or all that ideal and for whatever reason that might happen.

It’s always good when a plan works the way it was laid out but I’ve always been of a mind that if you never think about said plan having… hiccups or changes that even the most detailed planning can’t account for, you might be in for a very interesting time if you can’t adjust on the fly and continue to go with the flow. I’ve seen changes happen that have just killed the mood, not because the change was undoable but because it happened and it was unexpected. I understand that for some, they really do want what they want and in the exact way they want it but I also think that to expect things to always happen this way is… unrealistic and more so when you don’t have any control over what the other person is thinking and feeling in the moment… and one might find that they don’t have that ironclad control over their own thoughts and feelings either.

Like the many guys who want to get their dick sucked but they don’t want to cum and they have it “planned” in their mind not to… then get to feeling some kind of way because they did… and now they’re unhappy with you because you not only “made” them do something they didn’t want to do, you fucked up their whole plan and like it’s really your fault that you sucked his dick in just the right way to cause him to cum. That and that asshole, Mr. Murphy, doesn’t have a problem fucking up a plan and not always in a good way.

In this, it’s not always about change happening – it’s how you adjust and adapt to it and if you can at all and sometimes, you just can’t or, in some cases, you just don’t want to and now another change has been effected: Whatever the mood was just got shut down and may or may not be recoverable. When Brad asked me why the change in plan didn’t bother me, I told him that I never expect things to happen the way they’re planned to be because shit happens and always tends to happen when you least expect it and you definitely wouldn’t want it to… or maybe you do. I know it’s probably just me but I’ve learned not to plan or expect things other than what is actually happening at and in the moment they’re happening. It’s okay to think that you’re not going to change your mind about whatever it is you planned on doing and it’s good when you don’t have to change your mind… but sometimes, it happens and you might even spend some time wondering why it did and whether or not it was a good thing or not.

And it’s still very much about being able to adapt on the fly. Some changes in plans are explainable, like the many times a woman has made it clear that she’s not going to blow me without a condom… then rips it off of me and goes for what she knows and explains that [usually] it didn’t feel right to her or, as one woman told me, “I reserve the right to change my mind any time I want to!” Some changes defy explanation like the many times I didn’t plan on being screwed and wasn’t even feeling it… and I changed the script and demanded he get it in me and as he was doing so – and if the change didn’t mess up his plans – I’m wondering why I changed my mind about not being screwed other than “something” suggesting to me that it was the thing I needed done and in that moment. Or even those weird moments when you just “know” that there’s going to be a change in whatever’s going on… and it doesn’t happen… but, after the fact, both parties confirm that, yeah, something was “supposed” to change but, okay, it didn’t happen and it’s not that big of a deal and there’s always next time and if there will be a next time.

When it comes to bisexuality, we talk about the fluid nature of human sexuality but we don’t often applied the fluidic nature of things to our thoughts and/or actions, which tend to be kinda static or, once you have a plan in place, you’d prefer that nothing changes that plan even when we know that there’s no way to plan for every eventuality that could show up – we just hope that nothing comes along to change things and even say that if something changes, we’ll worry about it if it does… which kinda/sorta doesn’t always work when you’re having sex because there’s a narrow window for one to decide to go with the change or not and communicate the decision and at the risk of killing the mood and more so when the other person isn’t of a mind to change the plan they had laid out in their head… or maybe they are – you just don’t know.

I don’t know about bisexual women all that much but I know some bi guys don’t adapt or adjust well to changes on the fly and it seems to me that there are some guys who have set it in their mind that they’re not going to change anything even if the moment calls for or even demands that something gets changed. Like the guy who really did get mad at me because, two minutes into sucking his dick, he lost his load and he hadn’t planned on that happening and, yep, it was my fault. It made me ask him, “What did you really think was gonna happen?” and his response was, “Not that! You were supposed to make it last a lot longer then stop so we could do something else!” Well, hmm, it would have been nice if he had clued me in to this plan he had, huh, not that I would have gone along with it… or maybe I would have. He was having one hell of a hissy fit about it and going on and on about how his whole plan got ruined when he stopped to catch his breath, I mentioned, “You do know I can go back down on you, don’t you?”

His reaction told me that he never considered this and it definitely wasn’t included in whatever plans he had and while this change in things worked out well for both of us – he got sucked off twice to my once – he was still miffed that I fucked up his plans and made him cum when he hadn’t planned on doing it at that time… and all I could do was sit there and look at him with a, “What the fuck, man?” look on my face. I didn’t “plan” on him busting a nut when he did and adapted on the fly when he started filling my mouth up and that was fine with me… but not so much with him. I adapted on the fly and easily so.. but him? Not so much. I remember telling him of the many times when I hadn’t “planned” on cumming before a certain point or moment… and I did before whatever that point was and, well, it happened and if I was gonna blame anyone, it would be that asshole Murphy fucking shit up and changing the “plan” and now it’s still about adjusting and adapting or knowing that you can and have to depending on how the change affected the other person.

Change is… insidious. Doesn’t much care about what you may have planned or expected. Shit happens… or it doesn’t. It’s the reason why I tell a lot of bi guys that when you’re going to do the deed, don’t expect anything other than having sex because you just never know when Mr. Murphy is going to show up and turn the one-on-one deal into a threesome that’s gonna change some stuff. You learn to draw that line between the things you will do and those things you won’t ever do – and that’s fine – but some guys have a problem adjusting on the fly even when the change is something on their list of things they will do.

Like the guy who lays down his plan that he’s gonna suck my dick but the plan doesn’t call for me cumming in his mouth but when I warn him and he keeps sucking, well, welcome to the party, Murphy. After the fact, the guy feels the need to explain why he changed “the plan” and I’ve had guys say that they didn’t know why they changed things up and now they either regret that they did or they don’t but, yeah, the plan changed and it was all about their ability to adjust on the fly or not being able to. Why did he do something he didn’t plan on doing? Shit happens and so does change and sex is pretty damned powerful to boot and can override plans and expectations; not always in a good way depending on what the change was but, yeah, sometimes, delightfully so and even when a change that got effected was something on their “never gonna do” list.

Brad was pretty messed up over his change in the plan and declined to get together at some other time so that we could put his plan in play and without any changes being made to it. One of those things that I understood but not all that much because, again, if I’ve learned nothing else, it’s that shit happens when you don’t expect or want it to, like the woman who said, “When you’re gonna cum, pull out – I don’t want you to cum in me!” and I’m doing her, I’m about to cum and tell her and even start to pull out… and I can’t move because she’s got me firmly in place and, well, you know what happened. Why did she change her mind? She said she didn’t know why other than it was a good idea and all that. She was happy… and not so much since getting creamed wasn’t something she had planned on or even wanted to happen… then she did and, well, okay – I adapted on the fly even though being in a leggy body lock didn’t give me much of a choice but, still.

I’m all for having a plan even when the plans have plans… but I know they can change because shit happens when you’re caught up in the moment and now it’s all about being able to adapt on the fly to whatever the change is but if you can’t, well, you can’t and there’s nothing to be done for or about it other than to learn how to adapt on the fly because you never know when you just might be called on to change your plans or when someone inserts a change in the theirs. I learned this not just because I’ve had guys (in particular) insert a change but I’ve, um, changed some stuff in mid-action and sometimes without really knowing why I did other than I wanted or needed the change for some reason to be determined all after the fact and if at all.

I think that bisexual fluidity should account for the inherent fluidity that comes with being in the moment and being able to adapt on the fly one way or the other and not expecting a plan to always go as planned because sometimes, that asshole Murphy has a plan of his own and it’s usually something that would never cross you mind in your own planning. The problem comes when we don’t expect anything to change so if it does, well, that’s fucked up and, yeah, can be even more fucked up when you’re the one who changed the plan and you might not even know why you did.

 

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: Perhaps the Next “Worst” Thing

Or maybe the first worst thing for some: Being humiliated and emasculated by another guy. For me, guys like this were the worst ever; it seemed to me that they had some… issues that they believed could only be resolved by taking it out on another guy, from “teaching them a lesson” to those guys who felt that they had the God-given right to take you with varying levels of abuse, for lack of a better word and due to the caffeine not fully penetrating my brain at this point.

I can personally count on one hand the number of guys I encountered who behaved like this and that they wound up getting the shit beaten out of them to me wasn’t a good enough response for trying to humiliate and emasculate me. We tend to take it on good faith – and as a matter of honor – that a guy is going to behave like he has the sense the good Lord gave him but, again, this is one of those situations where a guy can learn some hard lessons about why some women behave the way they do.

All a guy had to do to push my “violence” button would be to call me a bitch while we were having sex or tell me to suck his dick like a good little girl or some other shit like that. Or to let him know that he’s hurting me and asking him to ease up and he comes out of his face with some shit like people like me needs to be punished for our sins which, um, okay, um, if you have your dick in my ass, I’m not the only one sinning but, more to the point, if you don’t cease, desist, and withdraw immediately, I will remove you forcibly, painfully, and you will suffer injuries.

You learn to be able to identify these wolves in sheep’s clothing pretty quickly and accurately and another downside is that you also learn – and as women have – not to believe every- or anything another guy tells you because some guys go all Jekyll and Hyde once their dick gets hard. To me, there’s nothing more demoralizing than to have a guy on top of you and using his dick as a weapon and literally a stick to beat you with after it was agreed that any anal sex would be performed with sensible caution. You also get to understand why some women just lie there and take it, too, and I knew a lot of guys who’d run into these assholes and when they’d tell me about the experience, my first thought and question would be, “Why didn’t you make him stop?” Many said that they felt helpless and powerless to do anything and some said that, similar to when the sex wasn’t all that good, it was “better” to just let him finish than to start a fight and a sentiment – and a lesson – I’d learned myself except when things got “brutal,” oh, hell, no – homey don’t play that shit.

The moment a guy decided that his idea of having good sex is to start beating on me, his life just might be forfeited. It took a lot for me not to go ballistic when a guy was fucking me and slapped me on the ass. One of the asshole I had the misfortune to run into decided that I wasn’t in the right position for him and slapped me in the back of my head and said, “Bitch, get that ass up here so a real man can fuck you!”

I dislocated his shoulder, broke his arm at the elbow and rained other forms of devastation upon him… and he was surprised that I reacted like that and even said, “But I thought you’d like it rough!” Um, if I did, you wouldn’t be needing a doctor right about now, would you? And for good measure and just being petty, a snap kick to the nuts drove my message home with a high degree of finality. Months later, I’d seen him on the streets and the moment he saw me, he turned around and went the other way; for a moment, I felt bad about how things wound up but a split-second later determined that he brought it upon himself and I guess he figured he could get away with it because he’d gotten away with it before with other guys.

You can fuck me… but you fuck with me at your own peril. At the time, I heard of a lot of guys being humiliated and with guys trying to take their manhood from them and while some of them resisted this, many didn’t; not only did they have to deal with whatever humiliating things they had to endure, they also had to deal with the guy who humiliated them bragging to everyone who’d listen how he turned them into a good girl and other such emasculating things. I’d hear this and wonder just what the fuck was wrong with dudes like this and discovered that many of them had daddy issues, very low self-esteem and likely because someone had done them in a humiliating way and the only way they could redeem themselves was to do unto others as was done unto him. And so guys just felt that they had the right to have sex with you in any way they felt like and you’d better not say anything to them about it.

Men like this found themselves being avoided like the plague and some I knew would actually wonder why they couldn’t get a guy to agree to have sex with them and when I’d tell them, wow, they’d actually say that other men were supposed to submit to them and be the woman they’re expected to be. To say some of these guys had issues is very much stating it mildly and politely. These guys had their bad reputation precede them and one guy who had this bad rep propositioned me and when I said no, he wanted to know why. I told him, “I heard about you and me saying no is for your own protection.” He said that he could make me do it and I invited him to try it but just as he had a reputation, so did I – I was the quiet guy you did not want to mess with. He backed off and said that if I didn’t know that kung-fu shit, he’d show me what it was like to have sex with a real man and I’d be taught to be in my place.

Today, when I see bi guys talking about how they want a man to totally dominate them, it gives me some unpleasant shivers. Dominant alpha bulls are, for some, in high demand and they want to be made to submit to sexual acts that I feel are humiliating and emasculating. I’m not saying that there’s something “wrong” with guys who want to be “used and abused” in this fashion but it’s one of those changes in the dynamic that I find interesting and more so when I don’t pretend to understand it at all. I understand that some men need to let their inner girl out to play and for many, there’s a line that they will not allow to be crossed but for some, they want that line to be crossed and, well, it makes me wonder what’s going on inside their head about this and, yeah, there’s a lot of gay porn out there that puts such humiliating, emasculating, and demeaning behavior on display.

I sometimes see clips of guys being fucked… and in a choke hold or otherwise forcibly restrained and, wow, I’d never agree to some shit like that or allow it; I see clips of guys being face fucked with what can only be described as with a lot of unnecessary force – I’m thinking that if homey had his dick buried deep in your throat and you can’t breathe and your body is trying to create some space so you can do that necessary thing – and he’s preventing you from doing it – that’s a problem and so is making you gag and vomit; it makes me wonder if the guys who think this is their idea of sucking dick even understand how inherently dangerous this… practice can be since one’s lungs don’t do well when vomit is aspirated and I don’t know about them but choking and gagging on a dick is something a lot of guys prefer to avoid given how unpleasant that is.

And there are guys who are of a mind that if you’re not willing to submit to shit like this, well, you ain’t no kind of man and, if that’s the case, I guess I ain’t no kind of man because there is no scenario where I’d want this kind of sex or I’d allow it… and someone doesn’t get very badly hurt in the process and I won’t be the only one getting very badly hurt. I don’t know why some guys just assume that other guys like it rough and really rough except maybe they got it in their head that another man should always take it like a man but I fail to see what’s so manly about being used and abused in the ways that can be seen these days.

I understand that some folks are like this and for whatever reasons they have for it and even when some deign to explain why being sexually humiliated is so much fun for them, I can’t wrap my head around it and I know my bias against being treated this way is most likely preventing me from wrapping my head around it. Just because I don’t like it doesn’t mean that no one should but, yeah, no, not my idea of a sexy good time. I’ve often run into guys with daddy issues and they’re keen to be punished like the bad boy they’ve been… and it’s not always a role-playing scenario and it’s taken some… effort on my part not to lose my shit listening to them telling me how they want to be punished and then their assessment of how much fun it would be for them. Um, thanks but I’ll pass on the offer. It’s not that I couldn’t punish them in the way they’d love to be – you, um, you learn some shit along the way when it comes to having sex – and in the couple of times I did do what they asked of me (and one time it was with a woman), it literally made me sick to my stomach and I didn’t like myself all that much.

There are some things I will not do to someone and things that I will not ever allow someone to do to me… but if that’s your thing, handle your bizness and I guess the “no harm, no foul” rule is in effect. I did, one day, run into a guy I knew who looked like he’d gotten into a fight and lost and when I asked him what happened and he said that he’d gotten with the guy who was da bomb in bed, all I could do was blink as he praised the other guy for being being that rough with him and treating him the way he wanted to be treated to begin with. I’m thinking that if you’re idea of good sex is getting beaten up, um, yeah, no. I understand that D/s stuff is a lot more controlled than it appears to be… but some of the humiliating and emasculating things some guys want to experience and without BDSM controls being in place just scares the shit out of me and I’m afraid for them.

This gets… messy. When I say that I don’t understand this, I don’t really mean that I don’t but it is purely a bias of mine that says it’s not my cup of tea and I’m of a mind to do unto others as I’d want them to do unto me; leave the rough stuff at the door and believe me when I say that any attempts to humiliate or emasculate me will be met with great resistance. One of those assholes actually busted a nut when I fought back against his attempts to make me his bitch and I saw this and thought, “Oh, my God…” and the urge to keep kicking his ass just went away since it obviously served no purpose to kick his ass when he was getting a lot of pleasure out of it. What made it worse for me was when he said, “I am yours to command, master…” and I had Scotty beam me up before I threw up all over the place.

People often get.. shocked at how we can behave when it comes to sex and I know this because there have been many times when I’ve been shocked and not always pleasantly so. It makes me laugh to have heard people tell me how “depraved” I am to have sex with men and I tell them that they have no idea of really depraved a lot of people can be about having sex and to the point where some men feel it’s their divine right and duty to take another man and humiliate and emasculate him and, as that guy said to me, put him in his place. And some guys want to be “put in their place” or, as one guy on the forum famously said, “Fuck me like the bitch I am!” and he didn’t mean with much TLC either.

It is like “morbid” fascination; I know there are men who want to be humiliated and emasculated and something that’s a far departure of the way things used to be. Even in those times, I’d feel badly for the many gay guys who’d run into that one “special” asshole who was on a crusade to make all faggots repent and confess their unholy sins and teach them the error of their ways… by having sex with them and in ways that no one, at the time, would consider to be right. Yeah, ripping someone a new one isn’t just a way to say you’re gonna really get on someone’s case… because a few guys I knew of ran into one of these assholes who literally ripped their asshole apart and one guy almost died from sepsis. The bad part for me was that the men who did this to them felt that they were in their rights to humiliate and emasculate them in this way; it was either their idea of having sex or, again, teaching them a lesson and putting them in their rightful place.

The psychology is fascinating even if, again, I don’t pretend to fully understand it. Something that, in days passed, guys would run away from or have great regret over having gotten caught up in this behavior and felt powerless to do anything about it is something that some guys run toward and eagerly so… and my somewhat limited understanding often shows that what it means to be a man is sometimes at “fault” and in that some guys “get tired” of having to be the man and letting their inner girl out but extremely so when their inner girl wants to be humiliated and all that. It makes me shudder and it’s like the train wreck you can’t stop yourself from looking at and no matter how bad it is… but I look because there’s much to learn about this when considering the depth and breadth of the M2M dynamic. I wouldn’t do it but that, again, doesn’t mean that no one should but it helps to be able to understand this because you never really know when you just might run into that guy who thinks that humiliation and emasculation is their idea of damned good sex… and role-playing has nothing to do with this.

I recall the guy I’d been talking to and thinking it would be fun to have sex with him… right up until he said that he’d be properly humiliated if I were to urinate on him. I thought he was yanking my chain until he made it clear that he wasn’t and that he needed to be humiliated and remind him of his rightful place in things. Of course I asked him why he needed to be humiliated in this fashion and his explanation, well, it upset me… and I don’t upset easily, well, not any more. And he wasn’t the only guy I came across who wanted to be so humiliated and emasculated… or looking to do that to another man and when I say that some guys are on a “mission from God” to do this, I’m really not kidding about it and those are the more scary guys out there, I think.

One man’s meat is another man’s poison and I understand this and this aspect of the dynamic is… dark and I can’t think of any other way to put it. It’s the stuff that “polite company” doesn’t want to talk about. Some of that polite company is of a mind that men having sex with each other is such a bad thing… and they have no idea how bad it can really get and more so for those men who’d prefer not to be humiliated or have their masculinity ripped from them or that there are guys who really and truly believe that M2M sex has to be done in this way. In my opinion only, this is way beyond just being kinky and some instances I’ve heard of makes BDSM stuff look nice and playful by comparison… and those worthy practitioners are into some pretty kinky shit.

Excuse me as I go away to do some shuddering. Being made to feel unappreciated, as bad as some guys feel this is, just pales in comparison to being humiliated and emasculated and on purpose and by someone’s design. Shit… I’d rather be unappreciated and that’s just me.

 

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: They Were Everywhere

I often scribble about my early days as a young bisexual since this was the time I cut my teeth on this new and wonderful – and totally forbidden – way to have sex and being mostly confined to my immediate neighborhood, it wasn’t until it was deemed that I could be trusted to venture out to other places, like when my godparent paid for my YMCA membership and I could go there. I learned how to swim at the Y and that’s when I found out about judo and then only because I kinda got lost and I heard the noises and went to investigate… and wound up in the class.

As such, I got to meet other guys around my age and even meeting other guys along the route I’d walk to get to the Y, getting the chance to really see how big the neighborhood really was and not seeing it out of a car window or standing on the corner and looking in all directions. Once I was allowed to roam around the city, that’s when I learned that me and my friends weren’t the only ones who were into boys having sex with boys…

They were everywhere. From all walks of life; from being “poor” to middle and upper middle class. Even though we were still recovering from the race riots that affected our city when Dr. King was assassinated, I was finding that not everyone had an objection to skin color and, maybe it was just me, but there weren’t many places I could go in the city and not run into someone who wouldn’t be interested in having sex with me once we got to know each other.

I used to get a lot of grief from my peers and some of the adults in my ‘hood because, thanks to my Y membership, I had a lot of white friends and most of them caused me to have great moments of culture shock and there weren’t many of them who, at some point, didn’t ask, “Hey, have you ever done it with a boy?” and when I’d say that I have, their eyes would light up and the next question would be, “Can we do it to each other?” or, “Do you wanna do it with me?”

Sure – why not? Sometimes, they’d never done it before we met, which would explain why they were so eager to do something… and I do mean eager and like it wasn’t like how we’d go about it in my ‘hood and we’d sneak off somewhere to do it; nope, I could be sitting in their bedroom, the questions would be asked and answered and the next thing I know, he’s naked, his dick is already hard, and he’s looking at me as if to say, “What are you waiting for? Let’s do it!”

Hmm. Apparently, white kids were very different. Oh, my god; I remember one such day when one of my friends and I were deep into sucking each other’s dicks in his room and his door opened, his dad peeked in – and there was no way he didn’t see what we were doing – but said, “When you guys get done, lunch is ready!”

What? I damned near shit myself and was close to having a major panic attack because we got “caught” and I had expected all holy hell to descend upon us… and nothing except lunch was ready. My friend looked at me and asked, “What’s wrong with you?” And I told him and he had this look on his face that suggested that he’d never heard of such a thing before now. At lunch, I was as nervous as the proverbial long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs and despite my friend’s assurances that everything was really okay, trying to eat was a problem because I still had a feeling that I was going to shit in my pants and expected his parents to take this moment to read us the riot act…

And they didn’t. After lunch, his dad kinda took me to the side and I thought, “Here it comes…” and I got culture shocked when he said, “Don’t worry about it – boys will be boys after all, eh?”

What? What? I eventually got used to situations like this although, with this set of friends, we’d often be outside and wandering around all over the place and since we were out there somewhere, wouldn’t it be a good idea to do it outside – and right here, right now? Apparently it was and that was something else I had to get used to. I was learning that boys doing it to boys wasn’t confined to where I lived but I wasn’t done being culture shocked; that happened when my godparents and maternal grandmother started paying to send me to camp in the summer…

Where I’d meet kids from other cities and states and found myself spending from two to four weeks with guys who were very interested in doing it. Who knew? I sure as hell didn’t! Again, most kids just didn’t care that the color of our skins were different and, in fact, they were fascinated with me; one kid asked me if my tan ever faded and I very much remember having fun at one of my cabinmate’s expense when he asked about my “tan” and I said, “I used to be like you but last year, when I was here, I fell asleep right over there – and pointed to a random spot on the camp’s beach – and when I woke up, I was like this!”

And he believed me. Some would ask me, “How do you get your hair kinky like that?” and make me blink like, what the hell are you talking about? My hair has always been like this! But I was learning that there was a lot we didn’t know about each other and while we learned that other than the color of our skin or where we lived, there weren’t that many things all that different about us… and that we could have sex with each other and, again, I couldn’t believe how overly eager the guys in my cabin and, indeed, in other cabins, were to sneak off in the woods or climb into each other’s bunks in the dead of the night to suck each other’s dicks and sometimes fuck each other – once the counselor started leaving us alone at night (but close by in case of emergency).

I was “badly” culture shocked, not just over how many white and other guys wanted to suck dick and fuck but also because this was everywhere, it seemed. From kids who lived elsewhere in my state to kids from the neighboring states that, at the time, I’d never been to. It seemed that no matter where I went, there would be at least one guy I would meet who would want to do it and whether they’d done it before or not. They didn’t care that we might not be of the same race and those who initially did would discover, and as I did, that it didn’t change the fact that we could suck each other off and fuck each other with or without penetration, too.

I’d come home from being with my other friends in the city or from camp and share my “doing it” adventures with my peers – and peers who rarely left our neighborhood, let alone the city or even state – and sometimes they didn’t believe me; sometimes they were shocked that I was doing it with white (and other) boys and, like me at first, they had no idea that boys doing it to boys was anywhere other than where we lived and they couldn’t seem to believe me when I’d tell them how eager these other boys from other places were to do it.

Junior high school exposed me to even more kids in the city, as did high school and while there was still great hatred and prejudice of “those damned homosexuals,” I was learning that for a lot of those guys, they were just saying that shit to be part of the crowd but, yeah, outside of the crowd? A whole different story! I saw that the white (and other) guys were more… uninhibited about it while my Black peers carried the fear and dread that had been instilled in us about boys having sex with boys and being involved in any way with someone who wasn’t the same color as we were; I think back about those horror stories adults would tell us and while some of them were very much true, by and large, they weren’t. I was raised to be “colorblind” and to not judge someone by the color of their skin and very much unlike my peers were so while other kids would add to my culture shock, after a while, I stopped being shocked and saw that despite some differences, were were more alike in a lot of ways… and especially when we were horny and wanted to do something about that.

It occurred to me that if there were so many boys from so many different places who didn’t mind doing this – and in the places I’d been – there had to be many more guys like me in other places… and there were and as my travels would reveal and confirm. Sitting in a hotel bar after a long day of sitting in a class for one thing or another and meeting a fellow traveler from either some state or even another country who, um, well, being away from hearth and home and being both lonely and horny would make offers for sex not all that surprising, not after all I’d learned in my younger days and reconfirming that “boys being boys” didn’t stop when boys became men.

Or being in the service and at a time where any fraternization and homosexual behavior would result in some very dire consequences and running into guys who were more than willing to risk those dire consequences to get some dick or to fuck/be fucked. I very much remember being in Japan and going off-base to get some of the very tasty noodles one of the guys stationed there told me about… and having a native, in broken but passable English, ask me as I inhaled noodles if he could suck my cock… and I thought, “Why not?” even though I knew I could get into all kinds of trouble and cause one of those “international incidents” we were warned not to cause before we left our home base.

Um, not all Oriental dicks are small, you know, in case you believe that one. I learned that day that things like race still didn’t matter and, now, neither did country of origin and things like the language barrier didn’t mean a whole lot because sex is a more universal language and one that you don’t need many words for; I had almost choked on my noodles to see this very Japanese man give me the “universal” sign for a blow job as he tried to say it. Who knew? I sure hadn’t!

We went to his place which was close by and blew each other’s brains out and I’m sure he learned some English curse words he might not have heard before and I heard some Japanese words that, despite not knowing the language, were along the same lines. My years of studying judo made me knowledgeable about bowing so when we were done, it didn’t surprise me that he bowed to me and I returned it and returned to the base with my head kinda spinning over this bit of culture shock. I was telling the guy who recommended the noodle shop what happened when he had asked if I like the noodles and he wasn’t surprised and said that it wasn’t all that unusual since a lot of Japanese were not only fascinated by Americans, they had a “thing” for Black Americans.

Who knew? I sure as hell didn’t but I found out and had my horizons that much more expanded when it came to sex and sexuality and the real-deal bottom line was if you didn’t mind, it didn’t matter… and not minding was clearly a lot more global than this inner city kid could have ever imagined.

All of this – and considering all the riffing and bitching about bisexuality – leads me to understand why some of the haters are, well, hating because we are, indeed, everywhere and you can’t look at someone and easily tell what their chosen sexuality is. I still don’t know what “the type” looks like because I learned to understand the “the type” can look like every- and anyone and regardless to things like race, color, creed, ethnicity, etc., dicks can be sucked and, if you’re down with it, asses can be fucked…

Everywhere. Makes me understand why there’s a “demand” for all bisexuals to come out and not just because doing so will set you free, as it were. Some gay folks are “easily” identified on sight… but bisexuals aren’t. I say that you could be standing right next to a bisexual and not know it and, yeah, someone you know could be and you don’t know that they are and I say this because what I’ve experienced to date has more than proven this to me and society seems to have gotten culture shocked to know that there are bisexuals among us and, yeah, they don’t look the type at all… and we are everywhere. All walks of life. Global boundaries don’t mean jack shit. Cultural and religious beliefs aren’t proof against bisexuality.

We are everywhere and we are legion. Most of society is “just now” finding this out but I’ve always known it and found out the moment I left my neighborhood to explore the city of my birth and home.

Who knew? I did and I’m not the only one.

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: A Matter of Honor?

I meant to write this yesterday but, well, I didn’t. As I kinda puttered around, I somehow got to thinking about how things often don’t go as planned.

In the works of M2M, things are often done by gentlemanly agreement; there’s a negotiation phase where each man states his likes and dislikes and kinda go back and forth until they both can agree on what’s to be done and all that. Once the terms have been hashed out, all that’s left is to do it… and we all tend to take the other guy at his word that only what was agreed to will take place.

Yeah, right. Okay, let’s say that 85% of the time, things go as agreed… and in the remaining 15%, things can go off-script because what I think doesn’t get taken into serious consideration is that, um, people do change their minds and being in the heat of the moment can be… interesting. As such, I’ve known of guys walking away from an encounter being totally pissed off because something happened – or almost happened – that wasn’t previously agreed to and even I learned some tough lessons about that oh, like, don’t ever expect things to go as planned.

We just tend to assume that we’re gonna get what we want and in the specific way we want it and without much thought to the other guy having his own ideals about that. Classically, Guy A meets Guy B and after some going back and forth, they agree to suck each other off and head off to do just that… but somewhere along the line, Guy B changes the script by saying that it’ll be easier for him to cum if he can fuck Guy A – and even though Guy A has already made it clear that’s not what he wanted to do (whether he’s into this or not).

These things happen and “in most cases,” the matter is dropped and dicks continue to be sucked with a slight dampening of the mood… or Guy A’s refusal to go there pisses Guy B off so much that the whole thing gets irrevocably ruined… and now both guys are pissed off and can bring the matter of one’s honor into question., as well as the possibility of some name-calling and maybe even being called out as a flaky, punk-assed bitch of a chicken shit motherfucker and even one’s masculinity can be called into question as well.

A lot of guys are seriously inflexible and unable to adapt to changes. One guy I knew told me of his recent encounter with a guy who, apparently, fucked the whole deal up because the other guy wanted to eat my acquaintance’s ass and that wasn’t included in their initial agreement. When I asked him why he just didn’t let the guy do it, I thought he was going to say that his but wasn’t all that clean but his reply was, “That’s not what the deal was!”

“So you’re mad because something came up that you weren’t expecting?” I asked and, yes, trying not to laugh at him over how he was behaving,

“He has no honor, man,” he griped. “He wasn’t a man of his word as I thought he was!”

Sorry, but I had to ask him, “What’s honor got to do with it? Okay, I get it # been there myself many times – but I’m wondering why you didn’t already have it your head that things could change?”

“They weren’t supposed to!” he literally shouted back at me. “You would have done the same thing and leave like I did!”

“Um, no, I would have adjusted to this change and let him do what he wanted to do since it’s not that big of a deal,” I said with a shrug. “Something like that wouldn’t be enough for me to want to call the whole thing off – but that’s me… and I always go into things knowing that they can change and, yeah, I might be the one to change shit up.”

“Like what?” he asked.

“Like the many times we’ve agreed that there will be no fucking but as things heated up, the change was put on the table. Not what we agreed to but adapting to this means, at the least, having a short conversation to say yea or nay; I don’t know how many times I’ve said no fucking and I’m later telling the guy to fuck me and right now.”

“What if he says no?”

“Then he says no but that’s no reason to not finish what we started,” I said. “Shit, I found out the hard way many times that just because I want things to go a certain way doesn’t mean the other guy is always going honor my decision in this… and any more than I’m likely to not honor his, not because neither of us are truly dishonorable but being in the moment can effect change and if you can adjust and adapt to it, well, you’re just gonna be pissed off – and then you didn’t get to bust a nut.”

There’s a reason it’s said that, “No means no.” Sometimes, script changes aren’t that dramatic, like how a guy and I agreed that I wouldn’t cum in his mouth… and he turned around and asked me to. I could have said no because that wasn’t agreed to but I adapted and adjusted and asked him if he was sure… and he answered by continuing to suck me until I came in his mouth. Afterward, he said that he was surprised that he changed his mind but felt that was what the moment called for and he was glad I was agreeable.

A lot of guys become disillusioned because they get this notion in their head of what they wanna do and how they wanna do it and then things don’t happen exactly as they thought… and now they’re pissy and feeling other kinds of ways. I tell them that it’s okay to agree on whatever… but if you’re not prepared to expect the unexpected, you’re never going to be happy with how things might turn out.

Guys often “Yeah, but…” me about this and stick to the fact that the other guy gave his word and, as such, his word didn’t mean shit and his parents weren’t married when he was born and other such things. Yes, you expect a guy to keep his word and to the letter… but if you don’t have a clue about what’s going on in his mind once his dick gets hard, yeah, you might have a problem if you’re unable to adapt and adjust to the situation and that includes “reminding” him that you both agreed that whatever came up was not to be done. Or, heh, heh, something that came up that neither of you thought about during the negotiation phase.

Is it a thing of a guy being dishonorable and his word not being his bond? Well, sadly, we are too well-known to lie in order to get what we want from someone and that’s pretty dishonorable… but in a lot of M2M situations, both guys are being straightforward and forthcoming but neither thinking that being in the moment can effect change,and more so,when you can’t control what the other guy is thinking or feeling at any given time and, yeah, you might not have an iron grip on your own thoughts and feelings… which many guys claim they have.

I know better than that since I used to think that way, too. No way am I gonna change my mind and no way he’s gonna convince me that changing my mind is gonna be a good thing for both of us! He gave his word and so did I! And “shit” happened anyway and more good than bad and, yes, I’ve had to physically enforce my decision not to do something when they just won’t take no for an answer. Been there, done that, learned some terribly hard lessons from it that I’m not of a mind to ever repeat.

But if it’s reasonable, sure – why not? If it’s not a great divergence from what we agreed to, okay. But if you go from fingering my ass to wanting to shove your dick in there – and we didn’t agree to any of this, well, no – I’m gonna hold you to your word and if that makes you mad and ruined the mood, well, sorry about that… but not really. When I say no, I mean it but that doesn’t mean that I’m unable to adapt or adjust on the fly… because I do expect things to not go as planned and that’s not, at least to me, an issue of being honorable… but it is a thing I know about men when their dicks are hard and they’re in their own moment.

And when it doesn’t go off script, that’s fine but you just learn to expect the unexpected and how to adapt and adjust as needed. As such, yeah, it’s about one’s honor and not so much. It can get… tense; I’ve had guys say that they wanted to do whatever because they thought I wouldn’t mind… and I’ve thanked them not to try to think for me seeing as how they were dead wrong about what they thought I would think. If I told you not to cum in my face and you get it into your head to make such a change – and then not even ask me – well, hmm. I’ve had guys flip the script and ask even though we both agreed there will be no facials taking place.n I’ve said no, they’ve gotten miffed and I know they are and no matter how much they try’s to hide it.

You did give your word and I’ll hold you to it but, yeah, I know better. I don’t get prissy about it because, again, I’ve been known to change my mind in mid-stream and I’ll ask and if he says no, okay; why ruin everything by getting all bent out of shape about it? Yes, yes – boundaries should always be respected and they are… most of the time but a lot of guys get totally blindsided because they never expect things to go in another direction and then can’t adjust to something, like, oh, letting the other guy eat your ass rather than having a major hissy fit that kills the mood and, again, everyone walks away unhappy.

It’s okay to say no and you should if you must but we do act like our gentleman’s agreement isn’t subject to change because the reality is that, uh, it can. It’s not like we come to an agreement then lull,out bibles and swear an oath that the agreement in which we’ve entered will not change, so help me (add your deity of choice here if you have one) no do we write it down and sign it with our blood or anything like that to seal,the pact we just made.

I just think a lot of guys are too rigid and inflexible and unable to adjust or adapt very well… and I do think that instant gratification – I want what I want and the exact way I want it – is at fault. Methinks it easy to negotiate and say let’s see what happens and if it’s something on my “don’t like” list, I’ll let you know and I hope you’ll do the same… so let’s go do the thing we just agreed to do, shall we?

Okay, I’ve finally gotten this out of my head – see ya tomorrow! Oh, and if you see any mistakes, blame it on my iPad – it can’t keep up with how fast I can type even with two fingers…

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: “Do You Even Like Girls?”

I remember the day Kenneth (never Ken or Kenny, thank you very much) asked me this but before I get into that, I have to begin with how we met so bear with me for a few.

My judo sensei was never happy to just put us through the wringer during class and triple the “torture” if we had a contest coming up; he also had this “weird” thing about running and swimming, not just for the exercise both things provided but as a way to be focused in the moment while paying attention to how our bodies moved like, when running, striving to put our feet down in the same way with every step or, when swimming, paying attention to how our arms and legs worked together and trying to be as smooth as possible. We didn’t think he was crazy – we knew he was and one does not ever argue with a 5th dan black belt when he mystically said that running and swimming would make us better judokas.

Well, he was right about that. In this way, we learned a lot about how our bodies moved and, as such, could understand how an opponent’s body could move and he’d always “yell” at us – in a mixture of English and Japanese – to feel what we were doing and stop thinking about it. Oh, yeah – he was crazy… like a fox.

On the day I met Kenneth, it was my day to be in the pool after practice and to, at the least, swim a mile in the pool or 25 laps for this pool and you might not believe me but he somehow knew if we didn’t swim at least a mile; I cheated a couple of times and he just frigging knew I had and well, practice was harder on me those times – and I never cheated again. When I’d dived in to begin my swim, there was no one else in the pool and it took me a couple of laps to get zoned in and paying attention to how my body moved through the water. About halfway through my first mile – and while I was making a perfect flip turn – I saw another guy in the pool swimming a good distance away. I didn’t pay him any attention and kept swimming. As I got into my second mile, I noticed – during another turn – that he was sitting on the side of the pool but beyond that, I wasn’t paying him any real attention and kept swimming until, finally, I finished my 50 laps and did something I got a kick out of: Upon finishing my last lap, I’d grab the edge of the pool and in one smooth motion make it look like I just swam out of the pool and onto my feet.

I walked over to the other side of the pool where my towel was and saw that the guy who’d been in the pool and sitting at its edge was still there; I had wondered why and I guess he decided to let me know why he was still there because he asked me, “Do you always do fifty laps and don’t you get tired?” I didn’t sense that he was a problem so I answered him; no, I don’t always do fifty and I don’t notice that I’m tired until I get done… and in that brief moment, I felt… attracted to him. He was an average-looking guy; dirty blond hair, blue eyes, kinda skinny, and not much about him that would draw the eye – you could walk right past him, look at him, and probably forget that you even saw him.

The moment I felt that… jolt, I saw that he had felt it, too, because he blinked, kinda shook his head and frowned for a moment. One more shake of his head and he introduced himself so I did as well and the next thing I knew, we were talking like we had been friends forever and, as such, I didn’t feel it was weird or strange that when I excused myself so I could shower and get dressed, he was right there with me. I never had much in the way of modesty so once in the shower room and getting the water temp adjusted, I didn’t give a single thought about stepping out of my trunk but I could feel him looking at me and not in that casual look like of way or in that creepy way. I turned and looked at him, saw he had lost his trunks as well and there was still nothing “remarkable” about him but as our eyes met, I felt that jolt again; it didn’t bother me but it was puzzling. We’re showering and talking again like old friends; got done with that and what do you know? His locker was just a couple of places away from mine and the conversation continued until we were on our way out.

That’s when he found out that whoever was supposed to pick him up wasn’t waiting for him. He went back inside to call and for some reason I stood there waiting because, I dunno, I guess I wanted to make sure he wasn’t stranded or something. He came out frowning and said that his family’s car had broken down at a relative’s house and it was being worked on but that meant he had to walk home. I’d asked him how far he had to go and, at least to me – and because I was used to walking all over the city – it wasn’t that far and I volunteered to walk with him, you know, to keep him company but to also figure out why I felt so attracted to him. He actually only lived about maybe twelve block away and to the north of where the YMCA was and as we strolled along and I answered his questions about judo, he suddenly blurted out, “Is it weird that I wanna have sex with you?”

“Normally,” I would have thought it was weird or, at least, somewhat weird but upon hearing his question, it clicked into place why I’d felt that jolt earlier; I was sexually attracted to him and I kinda kicked my own butt because I hadn’t recognized it but I sure did feel it even though my body hadn’t reacted as it usually would; I didn’t feel horny but, yeah, I wanted him. It didn’t make a lot of sense but we spent the rest of our walk talking about the two of us liking to have sex with boys and if you were walking with us, you could feel that there was something between us and wouldn’t have had a hard time figuring out what was gonna happen. We get to his place, he produces a key and we go inside; he calls his parents and let’s them know he’s home safely and learns that it’ll be at least a couple of hours before the car gets fixed; I heard him say, “A couple of hours? Okay – I’ll be fine!” and his face has lit up like the proverbial Christmas tree and I knew, without either of us saying so, that we’d have at least two hours to have sex with each other.

He didn’t “officially” ask if I wanted to; he just said, “Follow me…” I followed him to his room and “the next thing I knew,” we were both naked and on his bed and sucking each other’s dicks like our lives depended on it. It was a very frantic few minutes minus that “feeling out” moment that tends to take place in such encounters. We were going at it like there was no need to feel each other out and it felt like we’d been doing this for a long time. I was so lost in both the moment and that part of my brain trying to make sense of it all that I got surprised when he came in my mouth and even more surprised when, maybe a second or two later, I came in his mouth. We kinda laid there grinning at each other until he moved and… kissed me. It felt like a bomb had gone off inside my head because while I’d had plenty of sex with other guys, this was the first time I ever got kissed by a guy and my body reacted on its own to return the kiss and as our tongues got involved, I could taste myself on his lips and that was strangely exciting.

Everything was happening at lightning speed. One moment we’re kissing and the next moment, he’s on top of me and his dick’s moving in and out of me… and I don’t remember moving from being propped up on my elbow and kinda on my side to lying on my back with him between my legs and either still kissing me or going back to it. I didn’t know which and didn’t care a whole lot as Kenneth plunged into me over and over until his body went stiff and I could feel his dick pumping like crazy in my butt. It had only dawned on me in that precise moment that I didn’t remember feeling him entering me – what the hell was going on?

The rush continued and this time I did remember both of us moving as I scrambled between his legs, put the head of my dick against his hole and just pushed; Kenneth gasped then moaned and I did, too, that part of my mind that always seemed to pay attention to everything idly noting that nothing slippery was used to stick it in either of us. That was a mystery to be figured out later and my brain just shut down as I fucked him and, wow, kissed him deeply. I remember cumming and only because I never felt it before it happened. We’re moving in sync with each other, I’m raining kisses on his face and lips and POW – I’m paralyzed by my release and wasn’t sure if I was still breathing but I obviously was. I withdrew and he hopped up like he’d been shot out of a cannon, telling me to follow him to the bathroom. I did and we got cleaned up and got back into bed and started it all over again.

We eventually wore each other out and to the point where we had tried to get each other hard again and it just wasn’t happening; I remember when we called it quits that Kenneth had said, “That’s a shame – we still have a half and hour left!” And the funny part – and the part I knew I was gonna have to figure out later – was that I felt the same way. I knew I was gonna have to leave before his parents got home but I didn’t want to; whatever this was going on between us was still alive and well and as I got ready to leave – and spoke to my reluctance to leave him, he had asked me, “Hey, do you even like girls?”

“Of course I do,” I said. “What makes you think I don’t?”

“Because I’ve never had sex with a guy who liked girls, too,” he said.

“You’re gay?” I asked – then kicked myself in the ass for saying it.

“You didn’t know?” he asked.

“Nope and to be honest, it didn’t matter; all I knew was that I wanted to have sex with you,” I said as my mind tried to sort all of this out. “I guess that it really doesn’t matter if I like girls and if you don’t, does it?”

“Nope,” he said – and I could tell Kenneth was trying to make sense of it all just as much as I was. “When we get together again – and we will and I just know we will – you’ll have to tell me what it’s like to have sex with a girl, okay?”

He was right about us getting together again; we spent the next month or so having sex with each other and just as fiercely as the first time we did. I did tell him what it was like to have sex with a girl and he remarked that it didn’t seem to be all that different than doing it with another boy which, of course, was something I’d had already figured out but I was impressed that he did and for someone who had never had sex with a girl. I remember after one afternoon of sexing each other silly Kenneth asking, “Would it be worth it to have sex with a girl?”

I had shrugged and said, “It could be – depends on whether you find that you like it or not.”

We’d gotten out of touch with each other for a while and mostly because of normal, every day stuff. I remember the day he called me and without even saying, “Hello,” launched right into his first experience having sex with a girl and that he liked it… but still liked boys more. I remember feeling happy for him and we had kinda promised to get together as soon as we could… which didn’t happen. I was “heartbroken” because it always seemed that whenever I found a guy I really liked a lot, he always wound up moving away and so far away that we’d never see each other again.

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: Incentive

Memory is either a funny or wonderful thing. As I was reading some news items, I saw the name of a guy who instantly reminded of a guy I grew up with who has the same first name… and my brain was off and running.

I’d been outside doing a whole lot of nothing; I’d been trying to decide if I wanted to go play basketball or hit the public pool when I heard the sounds of running feet behind me; I turned – and ready to defend myself because the local gangs were infamous for sneaking up or bum-rushing someone and beating them up just to have something to do – and I saw a friend of mine who was out of breath and frantic.

He took a moment to catch his breath and once he did, he said that he had a chance to screw “Brenda,” one of the local hotties but she’d told him that if he didn’t bring a friend for her friend, well, too bad. He urged me to come with him and, at first, I wasn’t of a mind to because the last time he talked me into such a situation, the friend of the girl he had a chance to screw was ready and willing to do it until we got undressed, she took one look at my boner and said, “Oh, hell, no – you ain’t putting that big-ass thing in me!”

And no one got laid… and I saw fit to remind him of this as well as reminding him of my displeasure over that last time. He said that this time would be different and I supposed it would be because, um, I knew Brenda… biblically so I knew she was worth it and most guys would have done almost anything to get between her legs. Since I was bored and horny, I agreed to go with him and said to him, “You don’t wanna know what’ll happen if this is a bust like the last time…”

We ran back to where Brenda and her friend, “Gail,” were waiting and I will say that I knew of Gail and I knew what the other guys had to say about her. She wasn’t all that pretty, was just on the other side of cubby and enough where the fellas said she was fat and not even interesting. That didn’t bother me because I’d learned that the girls who others said wasn’t pretty or anything like that were amazing to have sex with because they knew they had to try harder and be better than the more prettier girls. Introductions were made and we followed Brenda back to her place – she assured us that her parents were out of town for the day and wouldn’t be back until later that evening so we had a lot of time to have fun.

Once in Brenda’s room, wow – everyone’s clothes came off like Scotty beamed them up! As I stood there looking at Gail’s nakedness, eh, I wasn’t paying attention to what my boy and Brenda was now talking about until he tapped me on the shoulder and said, “I don’t believe this shit!”

Well, um, apparently, Brenda had changed the terms of the deal; now the deal was that we could have them and as promised… if we’d suck each other off first. I looked at Gail and the way she looked back at me told me a few things, like, one, she didn’t exactly like the deal all that much and the other was she looked to be excited at the same time and, then, a hopeful look on her face that said, “I hope you’ll agree because I really, really need to get laid!”

I looked at my boy… and he wasn’t looking too good as he was telling Brenda that he wasn’t into that shit and Brenda, all calm and cool was saying, “You don’t do it, you don’t get this pussy.” He looks at me with a look of pleading and an expectation that I was gonna take his side of things… then got a different look when all I did was just shrug because, for one, it didn’t matter to me and, for the other, I remembered that I got to fuck Brenda because she’d told me that if I didn’t eat her pussy, I couldn’t fuck her… and like she might have expected me not to… and got surprised and delightfully so. So this deal-changing thing didn’t really surprise me as much as what the new terms were. This was about to get interesting.

It was kinda funny watching him process all of this; he’d look at Brenda and, yeah, she was even more beautiful naked and then he’d look at me with a look I couldn’t decipher all that much and I thought that because this twist didn’t make me look like it bothered me, well, he didn’t know what to make of my lack of a reaction. While he’s going through this and trying to plead his case with Brenda, Gail came over and whispered, “Would you do it?”

“Yeah, I would – wouldn’t be the first time I sucked a dick,” I whispered back. “And, yeah, I’d do it just for you and more so since you said what you said about it being a very long time for you.” If nothing else, I had secured a chance to have Gail if this deal fell through so there was some method to my “madness.” She smiled, gave me a kiss – with lots of tongue – and we both turned to watch my boy and Brenda, who was standing there looking all delicious and I could tell by the way she was standing that she wasn’t going to back off of her demand one bit.

Brenda looked at me and asked, “How about it? You down so you can get all of this pussy?”

“Of course I am,” I said with an indifferent shrug that I really meant. My boy looked at me like I’d just stepped off a spaceship and asked him to take me to his leader. To him I said, “Your choice, home boy…” I don’t think it helped his decision process much when Brenda came over and kissed the life right out of me… then laid an even deeper kiss on Gail but it did push him “right over the edge” because I heard him say, “Okay, if that’s what it’s gonna take…”

He turns to me and now we’re playing the “Who’s Gonna Go First?” thing and, well, patience was never one of my virtues; I looked at Gail, then Brenda, smiled at both of them, then got right to my knees and started sucking my boy’s dick. I heard him gasp; Gail had gasped, too, and Brenda was chuckling to herself and stage whispered to Gail, “See? I told you, didn’t I?”

I didn’t know what that had been about and, frankly, didn’t care because my boy’s dick was tasting and feeling pretty good and more so when his body stopped resisting. His legs were pretty shaky, though, so I stopped long enough to get him on Brenda’s rather large bed and went right back to blowing him. I can’t say what he was thinking but I guess he thought, “Nothing from nothing leaves nothing…” because he got me to move so he could suck my dick at the same time. I felt the bed shift and kinda glanced up: Brenda was sitting next to him, running her fingers over his body and whispering something to him. Gail was next to me and her hands were exploring me like crazy. My boy’s body was well into it; he was now fucking into my mouth and experience told me that he’d be cumming pretty soon… and I was sure that Brenda’s telling him, “Yeah, suck that dick, suck it good!” had a lot to do with that.

Almost on cue, I felt his whole body stiffen; his mouth had came off of me and I heard him moaning and peeked to see Brenda laying one hell of a lip-lock on him as he shot a huge load into my mouth and started swallowing; beside me, I heard Gail mutter, “Damn…”

Things dissolved into chaos at that point; I moved to lie on my back and Gail took advantage of my change of position to sit on my face; I didn’t know what was going on below and to the side of me but from the sounds I was hearing, Brenda was in the process of fulfilling her side of the deal. The afternoon passed timelessly for the four of us; the girls would empty our balls and while we waited to recharge, they kept busy by going down on each other and I’d learn later that this was a first for Gail… but you couldn’t tell that it was by the way she was making Brenda holler. As for my boy, well, I supposed this whole thing was plenty of incentive to suck dick and I just nodded when he said, “It’s not that bad… but me and you are gonna talk later!”

I expected as much. The two of us had known each other for a couple of years and shared pussy together… but he didn’t know I was a cock sucker and I had no reason to tell him. After the girls had said they’d had enough and we left, yeah, we talked about the dick sucking thing and the first thing he said asked was, “Do I really wanna know why you’re so good at that?”

“Probably not, ” I said. “But ain’t it obvious that I know something about it?”

“You don’t look like the type,” he said, making me roll my eyes.

“I don’t know what the type looks like but, yeah – I like sucking dick,” I said with yet another indifferent shrug. “You weren’t bad at it either… once you got into it.”

If I could have seen him blush, I might have needed some sunglasses to protect my eyes. I expected him to dispute that but he just said, “I guess I’ll do anything to get some pussy…”

Over the next couple of weeks, though, the four of us got together quite a few times and I got the definite impression that he wasn’t having a field day sucking my dick just because it was gonna get him some pussy and more so when neither Brenda nor Gail made it a condition. The next time? Sheesh… I thought I was impatient! I’d barely gotten undressed and on the bed and locked into a breath-stealing kiss with Gail when I felt someone sucking me and a quick peek revealed that, um, it wasn’t Brenda. It didn’t really surprise me because the day after we’d been with Brenda and Gail, he found me and, um, suggested that if we were to suck each other off, it would go a long way to proving that he really liked it or just endured it for the sake of Brenda’s very good pussy.

I don’t know if he expected me to object or anything – which I didn’t – and I honestly don’t know the extent of the proof he required for himself but he’d not wasted a single moment to go down on me and I almost had to beat him off of me so I could get at his dick and we do this together.

Good pussy, it seems, is a great incentive to suck dick…

I’d met with Gail for some one-on-one sex and she had told me that she had always wanted to go down on a girl but hadn’t had the nerve until Brenda laid that condition on us… and even let me know that Brenda liked girls more than she did boys. She told me that Brenda said that she was impressed that I didn’t hesitate to suck dick, saying, “He’s my kind of guy!” and a sentiment that had me blushing. Brenda and I didn’t get to be “a thing” but we had a lot of sex with each other… along with my boy and Gail because it was just better that way.

And our secret, of course.