Thursday, December 22, 2011

Happiness is...

Happy Holidays!  Merry Christmas!  Happy Chanukah!  Joyous Kwanzaa!  Makes no difference to me, just know that I hope you're enjoying the season, and life.

I started out the day today in a bad mood.  I can't honestly tell you why.  It was just a day, with its typical family drama, work demands, careless people, poor tasting coffee, etc.  No different than any other day, and usually I don't have a problem staying in a good mood.  You see, I learned a long time ago in my days in the service industry that happiness is, just what you make of it.

Today was a down day.  I wasn't particularly motivated to do my work or interact with people.  I'm not looking forward to going home and dealing with family issues.  I'm a well practiced procrastinator, and decided that rather than being productive, I'd spend my time catching up on some reading.  I can read on my desk, in my cubicle, without raising any suspicion.  Yes, I work in a cube, since I was downgraded from an office a few months ago.  Doesn't this economy rock! :|  Just another thing to challenge my overall good demeanor.

Anyways, I decided to catch up on my favorite blogs.  Do you know that saying, "When the student is ready, the teacher will appear"?  That's how I felt when I read two blog posts that couldn't have been better suited to my day, and my mood.  The first was Fantasy Island, where BLM explains his view on life.   "Life isn't unfortunate things that get in the way of a normally happy time. To me, it's quite the opposite: it's a normally miserable time interspersed with some happiness ".  Amen, Brother.  That's how I was feeling.

Then I read What, Me Happy?, by jasonstreet on Guys Like Me, which is his response to BLM's post.  He reminded my of my general philosophy on life.  Although absolutely nothing changed, just remembering made me feel better.  It made me happy.

Happiness is, truly, just what you make of it!

I have many reasons to be unhappy.  I am not the rock-hard stud I wish I could be, with both men and women falling over themselves to get next to me.  I am not rich, driving the my dream car, living in my dream house, working at my dream career.  My family is not perfect, and far too many of them are not with me today.  Who I am, and the choices I've made, means I live a dual life.

But I have many reasons to be happy.  I am healthy, loved, needed, and wanted.  I can afford to have fun every once in awhile.  I have a car, a house, a job.  I have a family.  I live my life more open than many others I know.

My reality is that I am happy, but only when I CHOOSE to be.  

And as it turns out, "faking" being really happy can actually have its own placebo effect.   Not that I endorse falsehood.  It just turns out that there is some psychological truth to the Depression Era song about "Smile, though your heart is breaking…" -What, Me Happy?
I didn't always choose to be happy.  Most of the time, I chose to be depressed, and the rest of the time I chose to be angry.  When I was younger I worked in what I feel is the worst possible job, fast food.  There you get the worst possible customers, crappy hours, thankless bosses, and you are literally going nowhere.  No offense to anyone currently working in fast food, but that's just how I felt.  One day I started whistling while I worked, and was amazed at the difference it made.  I had no more reason to feel happy, but I was.  Or at least I was less unhappy.

Not that I don't ever get angry, depressed, sad, complacent, you name any "negative" emotion.  I deal with all of these just like any one else.  But when someone stops me and asks, "Are you happy?", I can honestly answer "Yes, I am".  Why?  Because I choose to be happy.  I choose to remember all the reasons I have to be happy as much as, if not more, than the reason I don't.  Maybe it's a chemical reaction in my brain, with endorphins or the right neuron firing at the right time.  Maybe there's truth that we have some mental power over the world around us.  Maybe I am delusional.  

It doesn't matter what the reason, it just is.  

So I sincerely say to all of you, Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays.  Be Happy!

Jay

Saturday, December 3, 2011

My Sexual Education

I haven't had a whole lot of luck in my life.  But I think I've been pretty lucky in at least one thing, my own sexual awakening, if that's the correct term for it.  I can't remember when I learned about sex.  I feel like I've always known.  I can't remember when I realized that I was attracted to men, or ever thinking that was odd.  Growing up, my father never really made any attempt to shield me from R rated movies.  If he knew that I regularly visited his 3 foot high stash of porn magazines, he never let on.  By the time I moved back in with my mother, that ship had long since sailed.

My father had the greatest porn stash know to man, in my humble opinion.  Even today with the internet, I don't think my collection stacks up to his.  My favorite part of his collection was Penthouse, or even better, Penthouse Letters.  I couldn't, or didn't, orgasm yet, so I'd spend hours reading those stories with a rock solid hard-on.  Stories of random hookups between a man and a women, a man and two women, a woman and two men, I loved them all.  I can still remember vividly a story between one woman and two men, where the women decided that she just wanted to sit back and watch.  With the threat of ending the activity, she forced the men to continue without her.

Later, in my early teen years, I got a chance to visit that porn stash again.  I'd already moved in with my mom at the time, so my chances were limited to summer vacations.  He kept his collection fresh, so there was always something new to find.  I remember one warm summer afternoon, I was home alone flipping through his magazines.  I came across one that was a little different.  It felt thicker, more sturdy, but it was thinner than the others.  I pulled it out to look at it.  The pages were thicker, and much glossier, than the others..  There was no text, just a lot of high quality pictures of sex.  Of sex between two men. Through pictures, it played out a story where two young jock types met up in a locker room after a game, sucked each others cocks in a 69 position on the locker room bunch.  Then one guy ultimately fucked the other from behind, pounding him into the lockers.  This magazine became my new favorite.   But I never even gave it a second thought as to why it was in my Dad's porn stash.  Maybe I just assumed it belonged to his wife?  Maybe I just didn't think that it was odd to want to look at pictures of men having sex?  I just don't know.  If he were alive today, I would definitely ask him.

Should I come out as gay?  Honestly, that was not a question that got a lot of thought.  Sure, I sometimes thought that I was gay.  The pendulum swung that way.  By the time I was in High School, I was able to freely admit to myself that I had had crushes on other boys.  But I had crushes on girls too.  I reread some old journal entries from my freshman year.  One month I talked about a good friend of mine, how much I liked her, how much I really wanted to ask her out on an actual "date", which might ultimately lead to kissing her.  In another entry not much later I wrote in great length about a boy in my class.  By this point, I knew I was different, no doubt about that.  I knew enough not to go telling other people.  I never worried what my family might think.  We were no strangers to homosexuality.  I had a couple members in my family who were gay, and they happened to be the ones that were most liked.  They had more going for themselves than most every other member of my family.  I didn't want to come out as gay, because I was still attracted to women.  Bisexual was a term I knew, but not widely accepted.

But my point is that regardless of what I wanted others to know, I never had any issues being open and honest with myself.  And because I was attracted to women, as well as men, I never felt like I was living a lie.  I never struggled with my own identity.  I never worried about being accepted.  Through my swings, I would sometimes worry about making the right choices, but I was always comforted by knowing that my choices would be supported.  My own shyness kept me from experiencing everything I wanted to experience, not shame or denial.

TwoLives wrote about the Divided Bisexual Man in his blog.  He characterizes two types of bisexuals.  Those who can love and have sex with men and women freely.  And those who love women but crave sex with men.  I am, of course, paraphrasing and probably deserve correcting.  But I'm not sure if I really fit into either of these groups.  I can enjoy sex with women and, now I know, men.  I am in love with a woman.  But have had crushes and can see myself loving a man.  That would put in the first group.  But, my attractions to men and women are not equal, but it is fluid and changes over time.  I am thankful that I seem to be able to avoid some of the pitfalls of being in the second group.

Sunday, November 27, 2011

I want to say something, I just don't know what

I've wanted to come back and say something for weeks.  But what should I say.  This blog has a pretty specific theme, a theme to which I honestly haven't dedicated a whole lot of time.  So many other things, unrelated things, have be occupying my time.  I can't write about those, it just wouldn't fit.  That's not what this blog is for.  So, I haven't written anything.

Obviously, I haven't decided that I am no longer bisexual, that I'm no longer interested or attracted to other men.  I don't even believe that would be possible.  I am what I am, as Popeye would say.  I'm not going to change.  Taking this break has allowed me to realize a few things though.  You see, I didn't just take a break from this blog.  I also took a break from my pursuits.  For the last two months my life has been all about my family, my home, and (unfortunately) work.

What I've realized is, that it's okay.  That I'm okay.  I started this blog as an outlet to express a part of my life that was unfulfilled.  I'd been sexually attracted to men all my life, yet I'd never done anything about it.  I felt that my own shyness and fear were the cause, and this was something that I desperately needed to correct.  And I have!  My first hookup with another guy, gaining the courage to first agree, then actually following through, is a source of pride, a sense of accomplishment for me.  That would probably be difficult for most people to understand.  Especially considering that what I did for many would be a source of guilt and shame, having committed infidelity.  Certainly I am no stranger to those feelings.  But the experience made me realize what I am capable of, and eliminated any regret or resentment that I may have felt, or would feel in the future, for not having at least tried to fulfill one of my basic needs.

So I accomplished what I set out to do.  Then I decided to take a break from it all.  The purpose of the break wasn't to reassess what I wanted in life.  But I learned something none the less.  I learned that frequent, anonymous, random, hookups aren't what I need.  Even more interesting is that they're not necessarily what I want.  It's funny how something can so dominate your every waking thought then can become next to inconsequential.  I won't deny that they can be fun, or that I won't ever do it again.  But I no longer spend countless hours of my day dreaming about it like I once did.

Maybe, instead, what I was looking for is something closer to what Jack Scott has been describing on his blog.  Maybe that is why M is the only guy, of the ones that I've "connected" with, that I still chat with.  Jack writes a lot about "bonded buddies", and it makes sense to me.  That sex between men can be an act of bonding.  It's that bond that I've never experienced.  Male friends were always lacking in my life, my shyness kept me from experiencing more than just male/male sex.  I've had male friends, but never one that I felt close too.  It's always been easier for me to relate to, get close to, women.

So what am I trying to say?  I still don't know.  My exploration is sure to continue, and I am sure that I have much more to learn.  Right now I feel that Grindr will have less of an impact on my exploration.  Grindr, and other apps like it are fun for their entertainment value.  To strike up a conversation with someone new or to trade pics.  But I no longer have a desire to hookup with the guys that I chat with.  Instead, I think I will try focusing more on the friends that I have made by being here on this blog, and maybe some in-depth connections rather than anonymous ones.

Friday, September 16, 2011

Slipping out the back door

Just for little while, I promise I'll be back.

I've said it before, but not enough to do it justice.  I am immensely appreciative of this community that I have found, of this blog, of fellow bloggers and of those of you who have been reading.  And I am even more grateful to those of you who have commented or reached out to me.  I can't imagine ever wanting to leave this community, or why anyone would.  

That being said, I am going to take a short break from actively posting on my blog.  This is not a cry for attention, and there is nothing wrong in my life.  I love my life.  It's just that life, such as it is, has a way of shifting your priorities around.  For the time being, my focus will be on home first, and work second.  

I don't know how long I will be away.  Something in the back of my mind tells me that after a couple of days I will start to get twitchy, just like when I decided to quit cold turkey on Grindr.  (That only lasted for 5 days btw, if anyone was curious.)  But it could be as long as a few weeks.  I don't know.  

I know that I won't be able to resist reading what my favorite bloggers have to say.  I probably won't be able to resist commenting either.  Since this blog is life therapy for me, if anything major happens in my life I will be here to write about it.  I love getting emails/comments/texts, so feel free to send them my way.

I love you guys (and chicks!) who stop by to read my blog.  Thank you!

 I couldn't post something without a picture!

Monday, September 12, 2011

Sex with M

It feels strange to write a post about my last experience with M after writing about my conflicted feelings.  Maybe that's why I haven't yet, or maybe because I couldn't figure out how to do it justice.  What I wrote about my first hookup with a guy spanned 5 posts!  I'd have to do better than that.  Well, we'll see.

Last Friday I discovered I had an abundance of free, alone, time.  I had the day off for work for an appointment, but the appointment was cancelled.  Fortunately for me, M had the day off as well.  I text him to see what was up around 9 in the morning, and by 10:30 I was pulling up to his house.  No nervousness, just excitement.  When he answered the door and invited me in, I immediately kissed him.  And he immediately led me to his bedroom.

I sat down on his bed, and he stood in front of me, and we kissed.  I'm taller, significantly, so it was nice to kiss a guy while tilting my head up instead of down as always the case.  I pulled his tank top up over his head, and he pulled my Ts up over mine.  He pushed my back onto the bed and got on top of me.  We kissed, and alternated kissing and sucking on different parts, our necks, shoulders, nipples, ear lobes.  My legs were still hanging off the bed, with most of his body, so I pushed him up to readjust, scooting back to his pillows.  He laid back down on top of me.

I let him have control, wanted him to have control.  It was his house after all.  He decided when to reach for my belt buckle.  When to undo the button of my shorts.  When to slide his hand under my boxers.  I enjoyed his weight on me, and his tongue in my mouth.  When he'd gotten my shorts and boxers completely off, he started exploring downwards.  He licked my nipples some more, while rubbing his hands across my chest and stomach. The kissed down to my belly button, and further.  My cock was rock hard, and twitching.  He'd brush it with his hand as part of his larger exploration, and each time it would jerk.  When his head made it down there, he'd kiss all around my groin area, allowing my dick to rub against the side of his face.  Then he'd take one of my balls into his mouth, gently, and pull on it.  Then the other.  Then he'd kiss the base of my cock, slowly, working his way to the head.  It was spasm'ing, slapping against his lips and cheek uncontrollably.  And when he, finally, wrapped his lips around the head of my cock and slid down, I cried out.

He sucked on my cock for a few minutes, and I was already approaching an orgasm.  He lived up to the high bar he'd set by giving me the last mind-blowing blowjob.  The only rational thought I had during this time was, "Damn, I have to learn how to do that!".  But I didn't want to cum so quickly.  I didn't want this to be over fast.  I tried to think of other things to get myself under control.  When that didn't work, I pulled him off my cock and up, so that he was lying on top of me again.  I stuck my tongue in his mouth, and I think I could actually taste my cock.  Now that I know what cock tastes like.

I rolled him to the side of me so that we could get his shorts off.  Once we did, he practically pushed my head down to his groin.  I didn't offer any resistance.  He was rocked hard, and leaking.  I licked the tip with my tongue, then swallowed him whole.  I tried to emulate what he had just done to me.  I can't say I was as good, but he cried out too, so I was happy.

We swapped blow jobs for the next 30 minutes or so, taking turns being on our backs with the other between our legs.  In between each, we'd make out while lying on top of one another.  I enjoyed the weight of him, enjoyed how he pressed his cock against mine, how he humped against me.  At one point, he allowed his cock to slide between my ass cheeks while I was still on my back.  It felt good to have the shaft of his cock slide across my hole.

Then he asked me to turned over, saying that he want to slide his cock between my ass cheeks some more.  I trusted him, so I didn't question and I didn't worry.  I rolled onto my stomach and felt his hand begin to explore my back and my ass.  He spread my ass cheeks, and to my surprise, buried his face in them.  I immediately started moaning.  I think I even lifted my ass up a bit to give him better access.  I could feel every swipe of his tongue against my hole, and I would utter "Oh fuck!", or "Yeess!", or "Oh God!", with each one. I can't be sure what he did, but I think he pushed his tongue deep into my hole, and FUCK did that feel good.  I let go of more curse words and more moans.  Then he laid his body on top of mine and let his cock press up against my hole.  He whispered into my ear, "Don't worry, I'm not going to enter you", as he began gyrating his hips.  I could feel his cock slide back and forth between my ass cheeks.  I clenched, as if my ass could actually take hold of his cock.  I knew when the tip slid across my puckered hole, each time pressing against it a little.  Part of me hoped that it would accidentally slip in.  But the rest of me enjoyed the fact that I could enjoy this without worry.

He flipped me back over and starting sucking on my cock again, but this time he had his fingers pressed against my hole.  I was able to stave off orgasm by focusing all my attention on the sensation of him slipping the tip of one of his fingers into me.  I still wasn't ready to cum, not ready for this to end.  When I couldn't last any longer, I pulled him off me again.  We swapped.

I had him on his back, I was between his legs, and his cock filled my mouth.  I bobbed my head up and down as fast as I could, giving me self a break every few moments by jacking his with my hand.  I'd gotten his cock as wet as I could, mixing his juices with my saliva.  He had told me on our first meeting that it takes a lot for him to cum, but I had accepted the challenge.  I was determined.  And I was starting to get the idea, by his breathing and moaning, that he might be almost there.  So I kept my hand wrapped around the base of his cock, and the rest of him in my mouth.  I would twist my fist around, and swirl my tongue, as my head bobbed up and down.  His hands rested on the back of my head, gently, just helping me keep rhythm.  Then his hips would buck up a little.  I knew he was getting there.  It was a good thing to, because I didn't have much left.  Then he yelled out, "Oh, I'm gonna cum.", and any strain I was feeling went away.  I gripped tighter, sucked more, moved faster.  "I'm cumming!".  I braced myself, determined not to pull off, excited, and a little concerned not having much experience with the taste of cum.  He yelled, and my mouth filled up.  But I didn't stop, not until he stopped me.  Even then, I kept my mouth on his cock.  I knew how sensitive guys can get, like I do, so I didn't do anything that would set him off.  I just kept my mouth there, gently licking the tip with my tongue.

When I finally pulled off and sat up, he laughed.  I had a "cum-mustache".  Actually, there was cum all around my mouth and down my chin.  I hadn't swallowed any of it, and I wasn't completely thrilled about the taste.  But, DAMN, that was hot.  I asked for a towel, and he pointed to where one was hanging within reach.  I grabbed it, wiped my face off, wiped him clean, and collapsed beside him.  I was exhausted, and I expected him to enter an orgasm induced coma.   

We lied there, side by side, for a while.  Sometimes we'd say something inconsequential, but most of the time it was silence.  He'd run his hands over me slowly, and I enjoyed his warmth.  For me, usually, after I cum I lose interest in sex.  My guess was that he is the same.  I was still rock hard, but he didn't make a move towards my cock.  I didn't mind though, I had accomplished my goal!  I'd gotten another guy to cum in my mouth.  He admitted that he wanted me to cum first.  Oh well, I told him there's always next time.

Once I got some energy back, I got back up on my knees between his legs.  The perfect position in which to fuck him, but I wasn't about to go there.  Instead, I rubbed my cock against his deflating one.  Then I jacked off.  It didn't take long, since I wasn't trying to hold back any longer.  My orgasm rose in minutes and I exploded all over him.  Getting my cum on his cock, stomach and chest.  Then I collapsed back down onto his side, welcoming my own induced coma.

I managed to write more about the experience than I expected, but it's not 5 posts worth.  I could be mean, and split it up, but I think I will keep this way.  M and I, after resting for a while longer, got dressed and went to lunch together.  On top of everything, I enjoyed the fact that there wasn't that awkward moment afterwards where you have to figure out the fasted way of escape.  We had lunch, at a sit-down restaurant, and had great conversation.  Then our day together ended with a hug in front of his house, and a promise to meet again.

Thursday, September 8, 2011

Can I resist?

To test my resolve, I've resisted opening the Grindr app on my smartphone.  So far I've made it THREE WHOLE DAYS!!!  lol.

How long can I go without a bunch of
headless torsos?
I've mentioned before that I think I've become somewhat of a Grindr addict.  Not that every time I start the app, I'm looking for a hookup.  But, obviously, my hookups have been facilitated by the app.  So, let's see how long I can go without.  I can't bring myself to actually uninstall it, that's just asking too much.  But I have been able ignore it, even if just for  a little while.

I'm still reading craigslist posting though, because those are just too damned entertaining!  I haven't hooked up via craigslist, and don't plan on it.  But quite often, daily, I come across a posting that just makes me laugh.

I'm still keeping in contact with M, I'm not willing to give that up yet either.

So, that's my big sacrifice, no more Grindr.  lol  At least for now.  Anyone willing to take bets on how long I can hold out?

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Conflicted

I've had all these thoughts running through my head that I've been dying to write about. Then this morning, first chance I get to write, nothing...

Let's see what happens if I power through.

Most of the thoughts have been centered around two, conflicting, themes. The first of which is "I shouldn't be doing this", and the other is "What happening with M?". My thoughts have been so contradictory, that I'm even struggling with how to write about them.

There's been a lot of chatter on my blog lately about safer sex, STDs, poppers, etc. Basically my eyes have been opened to what I thought I knew, but didn't really. I've never been one to be ignorant about the risks of certain actions. I
n High School, I was part of the peer group that took time to educate others, in my school and statewide, about the risks of unprotected sex. I used to be able to cite statistics on certain infections and the risks of certain activities. I know High School was a while ago, but not that long.  So imagine my shock when I start doing a little research on my own. When I realize the risks that I have just taken. Maybe I was denial, not willing to think about the risks, because I was only thinking about the one goal I had.  Because I was only thinking about crossing that line. Or maybe I just forgot.

So what now? Obviously, now that I am armed with this information, I can't have another random hookups like I did with the "are ya gonna let me in" guy. I can't continue to hookup with Don knowing that he's prone to risky behavior. Can I? Now that I have crossed that line, am I capable of going back to the "straight and narrow". (These questions are rhetorical, by the way)

And this is where it gets really fun. Along with all these thoughts, right smack in the middle of them, I'm thinking about M. I'm thinking about the great day I had with M last week, the one I haven't told you about yet. I'm thinking that I have a lot of fun with this guy, and I enjoy hanging out with him. Certainly, the decision to play it safe doesn't mean I'd have to give that up, right? (Again, rhetorical) This thing with M is just getting started. (And don't worry, I will tell you all about that great day!)

So, here I am, conflicted. I have a lot to write about, even though I haven't written a whole lot lately. The holiday weekend and increasing demands at work certainly don't help me write more. I've heard from many that they've enjoyed coming along this ride with me. Hopefully all of you won't mind the bumpy parts, as I try to figure all of this out. (Hey, at least I always add some good pics!)



Friday, September 2, 2011

The Talk

Since our Saturday fun, a couple of weeks ago, M and I had met up a couple of times.  We met for breakfast one day last week, and then again for coffee two nights ago.  These weren't sexual trysts, we were just hanging out as friends.  Although the coffee led to sitting in his car for a while, which led to groping and kissing.

Now, please, understand that even in the best of circumstances, I am a fool!  During coffee, I felt the need to have "The Talk".  This is the talk where I alleviate any guilt for leading this guy on while at the same time ensuring that he knew what he was getting into.  We've chatted through text messages and online quite a bit lately.  My earlier predictions were coming true, this guy meant more to me than just a hookup.  Even without the possibility of sex, I'd want to hang out with him.

Back to "The Talk".  This guy deserves happiness in life.  And if he was looking to me to provide a relationship, companionship, partnership, he was going to be disappointed.  He recently came out of a long term relationship, and from what I could tell, wasn't really out there "playing the field".  Because I am such a great catch, super hot, and irresistible, I was worried that M might be falling for me.  (If you didn't catch it, that was sarcasm, just want to be sure you get me.)  I was being stupid, but I really was worried that he might be developing unhealthy feelings for me.  I had to be sure that he knew where I was coming from.  Yeah, maybe it was just a bit premature for that conversation.  I felt like and old man telling his younger mistress, "You know I'm never going to leave my wife, right?".  In fact, I think I said just that.

If he thought I was being ridiculous, he was super nice about it.  Just said, "I know" and "I'm not looking for a relationship".  I really felt like an idiot.  I mean, we hadn't even had sex.  Well, except for that MIND ALTERING BLOW JOB!  But he was nice, reassured me that he knew what he was getting into.  Even commented on how he knew I really did love my wife.  Later on that evening, he texted me to ask if he had done something to make me believe he wanted more.  He hadn't.  I was most likely projecting my own feelings on to him.

This guy has been great, and I've been able to tell him so much.  Being around him makes me feel young, and foolish.  I know how dangerous this is, but I just can't help myself.

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

What's the deal with poppers?

I hooked up with Don again.  He started texting me early on Monday, wanting me to come by on my way to work.  I couldn't make it then, but I would be able to later.  I asked him if he wanted cock for lunch, since I was more than willing to serve it to him.

It was the same deal as before.  Park out front, walk around back, use the sliding glass door to his bedroom.  I wasn't anywhere near as nervous this time.  Am I becoming a pro at this?  I'm sure many of you could come up with other things to call me!  Ha ha.

This time he got on his knees in front of me.  I had already undressed down to my boxer briefs.  I let him take over from there.  When he took my cock into his mouth, my knees almost buckled.  I grabbed his head with both hands to keep myself steady.  He swallowed it whole, then pulled off the lick all around the base and my balls.  Then engulfed my cock again.  When I couldn't possibly stand any longer, I pulled out and moved over to the bed.

When I sat down, he immediately fed me his cock.  Which I happily took, and wrapped my mouth around.  I decided to put my new found rimming skills to work.  I pulled him onto the bed, on his knees, and position my heads between his legs.  I sucked on his cock, then moved to his balls.  When I started to move back further, he didn't resist.  So I went for it and stuck my tongue in his ass crack.  He lifted a leg to give my better access, and my mouth and tongue lapped up his hole.

Again, I was surprised by the sweet taste, and I wasn't at all repulsed.  And, oh man!, his reaction!  He obviously loved it, which only served to get me more into it.  He started moaning, and gyrating his hips.

After a few, I pull off and we both fell to the bed.  I landed on top of him, and we began "dry humping" while we kissed.  Then I kissed down his body till I made my way back to his cock.  I gripped it tightly with my fist, and began sucking on the head.  That got a much better reaction out of him that my previous attempts.  There was a point, a small one, where I thought I might actually get him to cum.  But then he calmed down, and my jaw was getting tired.  So, I pulled off, and started making my way towards his ass again.

I was only there for a few seconds when he suddenly got up and pushed me onto my back.  Before I knew it, he was straddling me, shoving his cock into my pelvis.  He reached behind himself and grabbed my cock, and said "I've been waiting for you to fuck me!", or something to that effect as he started to lift himself up.  I reacted quickly, grabbing my own cock and stopping him from moving.

"No, not without a condom!", I whispered, then pulled him down for another kiss.

If he was upset, he didn't show it.  We moved quickly so that I was back on top.  Now I was pushing my cock up against his.  I wet a couple fingers and started to play with his ass.  But after a few seconds, he pushed my hand away.  I told me he wanted me to jack off and cum all over his chest.  So I sat up and straddled him, with his cock nestled in my crack, and started jacking.

Then he said, "Wait", and reached over and grabbed a bottle off the night stand.  I wasn't paying much attention, I thought it was lube or something.  He took the cap off and stuck it up to his nose, took a quick sniff, then repeated on his other nostril.  Then he held out the bottle to me.

"No thanks, I'm good", and just started jacking again.  I had been close to the edge for a few minutes now, so it didn't take long before my cum was flying all over him.  Before I could even catch my breath, he pushed me forward so that my cock was hanging over his face.  Then he took my cock into his mouth and started sucking, and he started jacking himself.  I would have finished him myself, but I liked this too.  Although my cock was extremely sensitive and I had to pull it out of his mouth a couple times.  I felt like I was going to jump our of my own skin.  But that didn't stop him, each time he'd take it back into his mouth again and keep on jacking.  After a couple of minutes, he was coming.  I was falling off him, and we both were lying breathless on his bed.

Now comes the awkward part.  He gets up and grabs a small towel he had ready off the dresser and tosses it to me.  I get up, wiping myself off, and talk to his bathroom to clean myself up.  I'm not saying much, I'm not very talkative in normal situations.  But when I return from the bathroom I'm curious about the bottle on his nightstand.  I asked what it was as I walked over and picked it up.  He said it was poppers, and that it makes orgasms better.  I know about poppers, at least in theory, because I read A LOT of porn.  So I had suspected that's what it was.  But when I picked up the bottle, it was small, brown and looked a little like vanilla extract bottle, I saw that the label read "Nail Polish Remover". WTF?

Really?  Are poppers actually nail polish remover?  And inhaling this is supposed to make better orgasms, without frying my brain?  I had no idea.  I just put the bottle down and started to get dressed, with several thoughts running through my mind, but didn't say a word.  Had sex with me become so bland that he needed help to get off?  That he needed to burn brain cells to get off?  And would he have really let me fuck him bareback?  I get the effects of being in the heat of the moment, but he doesn't know a thing about me.  Why would he think it's safe to do that?  It was another fucking hot session, but I left more confused than relieved.

Monday, August 29, 2011

Why earthquakes are better

It looks like all of my friends made it through Irene safely, and I am thankful.

I've talked to more than a few people who think I'm crazy for living in California, because of the earthquakes.  But I will take earthquakes over hurricanes, tornadoes, floods, volcanoes, below zero freezing weather, any day of the week.  I've lived through the infamous Loma Prieta earthquake in '89, and each since, anything below 6.0 on the Richter scale barely get my attention.  They are quick, and the damage is generally localized.  And, although we live under constant threat of "The Big One", major earthquakes don't happen every year.  But minor ones happen every day, and if you pay attention you can feel them, which is cool.

But tropical storms that last for days?  Tornadoes that wreak havoc on everything thing in their path.  (All that and the occasion earthquake too?) No thanks, I will stay right where I am.  Best of luck to everyone on the east coast recovering, getting back to normal, quickly.

My week was uneventful, extremely uneventful in comparison.  I have no hookups to report, no new developments in my adventures crossing the line.  Just great conversation with new friends.  I've been thinking quite a bit lately about how I might live my life more in the open.  It was never my goal to be sneaking around on my wife, but here I am.  At some point, I hope to be more honest with my wife about what I want, what I need.  I know that it is possible.  And if I play my cards right, my wife will be all for it.

Just last weekend, my wife decided to surprise me with some porn.  She said she had two videos she wanted us to watch.  One was something that she knew I would like.  The other is something she wanted to do to me.  I was intrigued.

So we sit down to watch the first, and it turned out to be a video of a threesome, male/male/female.  We watched while sitting on the couch in our living room.  The guy and the girl were sharing the other guy's cock, licking it up and down.  Then the scene switched to the guy fucking the other guy, while the girl sucked the other guys dick.  I was hard in seconds.  My wife slid her hand into my shorts and played with me while we watched.  After a few minutes, I asked if we could move to the bedroom.

In the bedroom, she showed me the second video.  The first thing a saw was a guy sitting on a couch with a gigantic black dildo in his hand.  My first thought?  "Ouch!".  LOL.  Then a woman entered the scene wearing a black leather lingerie piece that included a "smaller" black strap on.  She stood in front of the guy, who was still fully clothed, and made him suck on it.  He managed to strip off his shirt, and undo his jeans, while she fucked his mouth.  When his cock was free, they reversed places.

Oh yeah, while we were watching this video, my wife was sucking me off.  I know that most of my readers probably won't enjoy me talking about straight sex.  But I know there are a few of you out there who will love it! *wink*.  I love when sex with my wife includes some sort of bi/gay aspect.  Not only because it's hot, it get's me hot, but because it shows promise for what might come in the future.

She switched back to the first video while she was still sucking on my cock.  The one of the guy getting fucked and blown at the same time.  I asked which of the two guys she thought I was in that scenario.  She was coy at first, but then said I was the guy getting fucked.  It wasn't long after that, that I pulled her off and fucked her.  And well, with my new found ass experience, I couldn't help but play with that a bit too.  Just a bit, nothing over the top, just enough to crack open possibilities that I hadn't really thought of before.  We never did talk about her wanting to fuck me with a strap on.

So I guess I lied when I had nothing new to report.

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Are ya gonna let me in?

"Are ya gonna let me in?", the guy asked.  And I would answer with "No".  But I have to admit, I was into it.  I was actually thinking about letting this guy fuck me.  I've always said I wanted to try it all, eventually.  I wanted to take my time with it though, make sure that I enjoyed every new experience.  And I wasn't thrilled about the first dick in my ass being one that I had just met.

I was into it though.  And he'd ask again after a minute or two of kissing.  His hands reaching behind me as we laid side by side, exploring my hole.  My hands were all over him.  I'd rub his cock, then move to his ass, then up his back and down his chest, and start all over again.  He told me that he'd "teach me" how to do it so that it wouldn't hurt.  That he'd be gentle.  And we go back to kissing, our tongues wrestling in each other's mouths.  "No", I'd mumble.  But I was about to give in.

"Do you have a condom?", I asked.  It was a dangerous question, and I knew it.  Because if he said yes, I'd let him in.

He said, "No, because having condoms in the house is proof of cheating.", and he laughed.  "Do you?" he asked.

"No", I answered, partly bummed, partly relieved.

"Damn, alright then, we'll have to do it another time", he relented as he went back to kissing.  Then he stopped suddenly and asked, "What about Monday?  Will you let me in on Monday?".

I just laughed.  I didn't answer, just laughed.  Then I pushed him onto his back and moved back to his cock.  As I took him into my mouth again, a slid my hand back towards to massage his hole.  He started moaning.  I stopped for a second to lick my fingers, then started inserting one in while I went back to blowing him.  He moaned louder.  His cock still wasn't rock hard, it was more stiff, but still pliable.  It didn't have enough stiffness that if I bobbed my head up and down it would move with me instead of slide in and out.  But you wouldn't know it from the moans, and the bucking of his hips.  My finger was in past the knuckle, and I started sliding it in and out.  Then I slowly added another finger and did the same.  It wasn't doing much for me, but he definitely reacted positively to it.  I used my other hand to hold his cock so that I could slide my lips up and down the shaft easier.

He commanded me to turn around, so that he could get to my cock.  I obliged.  My cock was in his mouth within seconds, and we were in the reverse of our first 69 position.  He hands exploring my hole again, and pushing me further into his mouth.  Because I knew he'd love it, I pulled off his cock and buried my face in his ass again.  Pushing my tongue into his hole as deep as it could go.  He bucked some more.

My orgasm started to grow, quickly, and I moaned.  Then I went back to his cock and sucked as is my life depended on it.  My balls started to tighten up, and I moaned again.  Then I was just seconds away.  I yelled out, "Fuck, I'm gonna cum", and tried to position myself so that he could push me off.  He replied, "Ok", and moved me, but just a little.  His mouth was replaced by his hand and he jacked me furiously.  I came.

I'd lost all concentration and abandoned his cock.  I shot three or four times, slightly aware that I had no idea where my spunk was landing.

After a minute, I slid off to the side and looked to see what I had done.  My cum was on his cheek, his neck, and his chest.  The look on his face was like a kid in a candy store.  He reached down and started jacking him self off.  A little guilt kicked in that yet again, I had cum first and was unable to get the other guy off on my own.  I compensated by moving in close so that I could like his balls and the area just behind them while he jacked.  That seemed to work, because a few moments later his was cumming.  He continued to jack himself like mad as he came, so his cum flew all of the place.  Some hit me in the chest, some his the bed, some hit him in the chest.

After the mini coma had passed, he both started moving.  I made a comment about the cum all of the place, and that he'd have to wash the bedspread.  He laughed, and pointed the way to the guest shower.  As I was getting in, he walked off to the other bathroom.  I showered quickly, dried off quickly, and went back into the room to get dress.  He walked in after I had half my clothes on and started to get dressed himself.  There wasn't a whole lot said at that point.  After we both were dressed, and after I made sure I had all my stuff, he walked me to the front door.

Leaving these situations is always awkward.  I never know what to say or do.  I don't think he did either.  I mentioned something about not being free on Monday, but that I was open to doing this again.  Then I opened the door and left.

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Another NEW experience

I had another hot sex experience last week that I haven't shared with you guys yet.  Why?  I'm not sure.  I think I'm worried about everyone getting the idea that I am a slut!  And I know that waiting a few days to tell you all about it makes all the difference.  Right?  lol.

So I started chatting with this guy early last week.  He's around my age, actually close to my height, married (duh), white, etc.  He told me his wife was out of town, so I gave him my cell # so that he could text me later in the week.  Thursday afternoon came, and I still hadn't heard anything.  I noticed that he was on Grindr, so I sent him another message.  (It's possible that I've become a Grindr addict!)  The conversation was short, cordial, he said we should set something up for the following week.  No mention of what "something" was.  On Friday morning, he messaged me again on Grindr.  (Yes, definitely an addict)  He asked if I were free that weekend.  I said no, since weekends for the most part were off limits.  But that weekend in particular was reserved for M.  Then he asked if I could get away from work that day.  I think he remembered his wife was coming home on Sunday and his window of opportunity was closing.

The usual heart palpitations and cold sweat started as soon as I began thinking about meeting up with this guy.  I wasn't even at work yet, so I wasn't sure I'd be able.  But by 9am I knew I'd be free.  We agreed on a time around lunch, he gave me his address.  Plans were set.  As with the first time, my heart was beating a mile a minute from that point on.

I left work a few minutes before noon, I was only a few minutes away from this guy's house.  But as soon as was in the car I got a text asking for a little bit more time, 15 minutes.  I guess he'd gone to run some errands and wasn't back yet..  So I drove around for a bit, told him to text me when he was ready..  I actually thought he was going to chicken out, tell me  to nevermind.  Then my fucked up mind went all paranoid and I thought he needed the extra time to perfect his trap.  Maybe the basement wasn't prepped yet?  But I got the all clear text, and since I had already told him I was on my way, I decided to go through with it.  I was not going to let my own fear to get the best of me, I'm done with that.

I showed up at his door, in a quiet little neighborhood.  He lived on a court, so there was no traffic.  He opened the door, invited me in.  I followed him to the sitting room.  He had a nice place, obviously decorated by his wife.  I saw porcelain dolls everywhere.  He looked good though.  Like I said, close to my own height and in shape.  He was nervous.  Very nervous.  Almost to the point of a stutter.  He really didn't know what to do with me.  It was strange, but I felt the need to take control.  Like I am the expert in these situations. Haha.   I asked if he wanted to stay in the sitting room, or go somewhere else.  He said that there was a guest bed upstairs, and I said lead the way.

He started to undress as soon as we entered the room.  I removed my shoes, but stepped up to him to slow him down.  He had some short conversation about how many times each of us had done this.  His experience was about the same as mine.  He had already removed his pants, and I started exploring his body through his tshirt and boxer briefs.  And we kissed.  My hands went up and down his back, his chest, and eventually (quickly) found their way to his crotch.  I reached in underneath and found a nice thick, soft, cock.  I popped it out from the briefs, and it had a huge plump head.

His nervousness was gone at that point, and he told me to get undressed.  I did.  And he finished what he started.  We stepped up to each other, completely naked, and I pushed him down on to the bed, on his back.  I went to work, first sucking on his nipples, then getting on my knees on the side of the bed so that I could have full access to his cock.

It was still soft as I took it entirely into my mouth.  He wasn't a big leaker, but I could taste a little bit of precum.  I stayed there for a few moments.  But since he wasn't getting any harder, despite his moans of pleasure, I pulled off and got up onto the bed myself.  We moved around a bit, his mouth found my cock.  I was in bliss.  We kept moving so that I could still get at his.  He got the point, and quickly straddled my face, so that we were in the 69 position with my on my back.

So at some point before this moment it would have been a good idea to express exactly what we wanted.  Because when he straddled me, it wasn't his dick that he shoved in my face, it was his ass!  I just looked at it, wide eyed, and thought to myself, "What the hell am I supposed to do with this?".  Fortunately, he is an expert cock sucker. Not as good as M, but I did have to tell him to slow it down so that I could last longer.  His tongue and mouth felt so good, I felt obliged to return the favor.  I slowly, tentatively, got closer to his ass.  First I sniffed.  It smelled okay, kinda sweet.  Then I flicked my tongue and touched skin just outside his hole. It tasted kinda sweet too.  A little more, and I was started to get into it.  He was a little hairy, but not as hairy as I am.  I pressed my tongue against his hole for a moment and started to realize why some guys really get into this.  He then pulled off my cock, and started sucking on my balls, and kept going south from there.  He pulled my legs, and before I knew it, his mouth was in my ass.  I had a fleeting thought about not being prepared for this.  But fleeting thoughts go, and I buried my face in his ass.

I can't even describe the sensations I was feeling.  I'd still prefer my dick sucked, or to suck dick, instead.  But having a tongue lick around and in my hole was something I had not even imagined.  We stayed in this position for a long time.  As I probed his hole, he would buck, pressing his cock into chest.  I tried to push my tongue inside once, but that kinda weird'd me out, so I opted to stay on the surface.

After I while, I really wanted his dick in my mouth again.  I slapped his ass to get his attention, and told him to feed me his cock.  He obeyed, and lifted himself up.  His cock was still soft.  Maybe a little more chubby.  I wondered what the hell would get this guy hard.  I was rock solid from the moment I took off my underwear. But I loved it in my mouth.  He kept going on my ass.  I could feel a finger pressing against my hole, and slip in a little.  I'd done that to myself once or twice, so I wasn't shocked by it.  But again, I wondered if I was ready.  I mean, I wondered if I was properly "prepared" for this kind of ass play.  I keep myself clean, but I am inexperienced in these matters.   I guess I was clean enough, because the finger was quickly replace with his tongue again.  He asked me again if I'd ever bottomed.  We had already covered that in our chats, but I pulled off his cock long enough to reaffirm that I hadn't.

A few minutes later, he pulled off me and turned to lay beside me.  We actually just laid there for a while, playing with each other's cocks.  He decided this was a good time to talk. Asked me questions about my life, and I asked the same of him.  Every few questions, or sentences, he'd ask, "So are you going to let me in?".  And each time I'd answer "No".  He'd either laugh or fake a pout.  But it wouldn't keep him from asking again.

To be continued...

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Yeah, we do exist!!


Bisexual Men Do Exist, Study Shows


BISEXUALITY DEFINITION X390 (PHOTOS) | ADVOCATE.COM
While stereotypes (and previous science) claimed bisexual men are just closeted gays, a new study conducted by Northwestern University offers evidence that male bisexuality actually does exist.

Sunday, August 21, 2011

I might be in trouble

M is the second guy I hooked up with. He's the guy that surprised me with an awesome blowjob, when all was looking for was a handshake.

I been chatting with him since, online through Growlr and through text messages. If you haven't figured it out yet, I'm no fan of phone calls. Something in me just shuts down when I'm on the phone. Anyways, our chats have been friendly, funny, and showed true concern about how the other was doing.

We met for lunch on Saturday. Wifey was out of town for the day, so I had some unusual free time. Wifey's started making plans earlier in the week, so I started making plans as well. But her's were soft, and wouldn't be confirmed to the morning of. M was very understanding. I told him I felt bad about asking him to do something with me, without being able to commit myself. He responded with, "I don't mind, just let me know".

So we met for lunch. We knew that neither of our homes would be free, so we planned on meeting at a restaurant. Even though I had plenty of time to get there, I still ended up being a few minutes late. He was already seated. I wandered the place til I found him, and sat down myself.

He was obviously nervous, as was I. We were struggling to make small talk as the waiter got my drink and took our order. But the nervousness faded by the time we were eating. I was telling him things about myself I never imagined revealing. About the real me, my relationship with my wife, how I felt about cheating. He told me about his life too. His family, his recent breakup, his job. Very quickly we became old acquaintences just catching up on what's new in our lives.

He mentioned that he was hoping to go see a movie this weekend, so I asked if he wanted to go together. He asked if I had time, and after a quick check of my phone, I knew that I did. So I texted my wife that I was going to see a movie "alone", the alone was implied. I paid for lunch, and off we went.

We met each other at the restaurant, but I let M decide to take just one car to the restaurant. He had a nice car, and I felt completely comfortable getting into it, being completely at his mercy.

We went to see Fright Night. It was an entertaining movie. I certainly liked watching Colin Farrell, but I remembered him being cuter. M made me pick where we sat, since I had refused to make any other decision that day. I intentionally chose the seats in the back of the theatre, against the wall. You know, just in case we wanted to not be observed.

Being there was strange. A mix between the nervousness and exhilaration of a first date, and the relaxed, comfortableness of an old friend. I sat back, enjoyed the movie, and wondered about what might happen next. I think were about 20 or 30 minutes into the movie before his hand it's way into mine. Our hands explored each others for a while, then his found it's way onto my leg, and my onto his. He rubbed my inner thigh, I reciprocated. He made his way towards my crotch, massaging life into my cock.

We spent the entire movie with a hand on each other. Massaging whatever we could find, with the exception of a short break for me to run the restroom. I gotta say, I loved the attention. I loved every second of it. My wife and I never did anything like that at the movies, despite my attempts to initiate.

Unfortunately, though, the movie ended. We had no choice but to get up and leave. He made a comment as we got back into his car about how badly he wanted to suck my dick. My dick wanted badly to be sucked by him. But we had no plans to do anything else, and no place to go. So we drove back towards the restaurant.

Along the way, he asked if I minded if he stopped to go through a car wash. I said, "go for it", happy for anything to delay the end. He pulled into the car wash, and we used the cover to make out. I enjoyed kissing him, almost as much as I enjoyed him rubbing my crotch. But that too, unfortunately, ended.

A few minutes later, he was dropping me off at my car. I told him how much fun I had had, and repeated that again later in a text message.

So yeah, I think I might be in trouble. I had a lot of fun with M. I think even more so because it didn't end in sex. I have really begun to think of this guy as a friend. I know, there was a teasing of sex, an arousal. But I enjoyed just hanging out with him, the conversation, the openness, the jokes. I've realized that I care for M, and that is dangerous for me. I'm not sure if I can afford to worry about another persons feelings or well being. It's another ball to juggle in this daring tightrope act. But then again, maybe he's what I've been looking for.

Thursday, August 18, 2011

Bisexual in a straight marriage

Jack Scott's recent post, "I'm married to a bisexual guy, will it work?", really hit home for me, for all the obvious reasons.  This guy is very insightful, and, IMHO, certainly knows his stuff.

You see, I've thought a lot about my own decisions, and how I've chosen to deal with the secret side of myself.  I had a lot of options.  My wife knows I'm bi.  She's known since long before we got married.  I had never acted on those feelings before we met, because of my own damn insecurities and the like.  Unless you count a short experience when I was 5 or 6.  (BLM reminded me about that, I will have to tell you about it later.)  I never acted on these feelings while we were dating, or until recently, during our marriage.

But she knew.  And she's supportive.  We've talked about it, and even though it is always awkward for me, it's always made me feel more open and honest than at any other time in my life.  So why then, when I finally get up the nerve to act, do I leave her out of it?  Why do I go out of my way to keep it from her?  To deceive her?  I really don't know, it doesn't make much sense to me either.  But I do have a few ideas.

In Jack's blogs, he talks quite a bit about the difference between a bisexual man in a straight marriage, and a homosexual man in a straight marriage.  I think, deep down, that is what is at the heart of my fear.  I've had these feelings, for guys, for as long as I can remember.  While growing up, I've never talked to anyone about them.  I certainly knew what being gay was, and it was easy to see how it was becoming more widely accepted in society.  I was confused.  I remember light conversations with even the most open and accepting of people that made me close down.  My sister, for example, once told me in my adolescent years that "if a guy is confused, he's gay, that simple".  But it wasn't that simple for me.  I liked girls.  I had many crushes on girls, jacked off thinking about girls, enjoyed playboy.  I knew, or I felt, that if I talked to anyone about my liking guys too, I would be labeled gay.  And that would be that, I was gay, and there was nothing I could do about it.

I think my sister has grown from then, since she's found herself in her own gay relationship.  But I've never had the guts to talk to her about me since.

In the back of my mind, since early tween years, I've thought about the possibility that I really am "just gay".  That I have been lying to myself, and my heterosexual tendencies were a fabrication.  My attractions to either gender are never equal, but swing back and forth like a pendulum.  Maybe when I was more on the straight side, that's when I was lying to myself the most.  Most of society believes that bisexuality is just a myth.  That men who claim to be bisexual are really gay, just trying to get all the same perks that come with being straight.    I, for all my faults, never wanted to appear to anyone as talking the easy way out.  If anything, I liked taking the hard road if only to get the sympathy and attention from those around me.  I felt that stating I was bi would be like a black man bleaching his skin white.  For one, it would be obvious, and two, I would lose the acceptance of either side.  So I hid it.  I hid it for fear that I was really lying to myself.  And for fear that no one would accept me for me.  I also hid just for the simple fact that I didn't want anyone else to put a label on me.

In life, I must always be right.  No one else can tell me something that I don't already know, or I will immediately reject it!  That not really true, but it is always my first response.  It drives my wife nuts!

That I might really just be gay is a fear that only recently went away.  I thought that if I hooked up with a guy, it would confirm my fear.  I'd realize that I was gay, that I no longer belonged with my wife.  That I would have to get a divorce, and have my wife suffer the shame of marrying a homosexual man.  Since she already knew, she wouldn't even be able to blame me, she'd blame herself for trusting me.  I'd have to tell my family.  I'd have to tell her family.  While I may have had all the support and acceptance I need to come out when I was younger, I don't know if that was still true today.  I'd have to tell my coworkers.  I'd be forever defined as gay, and there would be nothing I could do about it.  And everyone I've ever know in life can look at each other and say, "Oh yes, finally!  I knew there was something about him."

All of that vanished a day or two after my first hookup.  That's when I realized that my feelings toward my wife, sexual and otherwise, hadn't changed.  That sucking dick, for the first time, hadn't flipped a switch.  This may have been obvious to everyone else, but it wasn't for me.  I've never talked about it.  I couldn't talk about it.  They only person I could talk to about it was my wife, and I couldn't let on to her that I was afraid I'd leave her.

So now I have a new goal;  Figure out how to live my life in the open.  My wife really is supportive.  I don't think she would support me cheating.  But there probably is a better way for me to fulfill all my desires.  Jack Scott seems to have it worked out.  Maybe if I figure out the right way to approach it, I can get there too.


Wednesday, August 17, 2011

What did I say?

I was chatting with a new guy today, on Grindr. He's another married bi guy, who plays on the side. He lives somewhat close to where I work. He likes the same things I do, described himself as passionate, liking to kiss, massage, roll around, etc.

I was at work while we were having this conversation. Lately it seems like I do whatever I can to avoid actually working. But, inevitably, there are distractions. Our conversation is slow, intermittent, lasts for a couple of hours. We exchanged a couple of pics. Even face pics, which I am actually getting more comfortable doing. 

I think to myself, this has the potential to be something good. But I always try to not get ahead of myself. I keep out casual, cracking jokes and paying compliments. One of his pics showed a nice, lightly hairy, flat stomach, not to mention a nice package, that really turned me on. 

So I decide to take the next step. All the signs were there. He flattered me, dropped innuendos, stated that it was "safer" that we were both married. So I ask if he would be willing to meet up sometime. I didn't even specify if that meant meeting for coffee, or in a public restroom. I turned away from my phone to answer a question from a coworker, and when I turned back, he was gone. 

He didn't just log off. He blocked me. His profile disappeared from my screen. At first I didn't realize what happened. That I screwed something up. Then I thought Grindr was screwing up, like that's never happened before. I even rebooted my phone. Nope, everything was working fine. He was just gone. 

I wish I knew what I said, or what I did, to scare him off. I'm no stranger to blocking people. I sometimes can spend hours on Grindr just blocking people. But never in the middle of conversation. No matter what! That's just rude! I block people who clearly state in there profile that their interest are different than mine, ie. "Looking for a relationship". Or those that either I've tried sparking up a conversation and gotten no response, or I've seen on my screen for weeks and they've never tried to start a conversation with me. Space is limited after all. 

So now I will always wonder what I did. It's not like I can call him up and ask. Maybe he's just technologically illiterate and he doesn't know what he did. Yeah, I bet that's it. It must be, there's no other logical explanation. ;)

Consistency

I am going to shamelessly steal an idea for a post from a reader.  He wrote to give me a bit of blogging advice, that I needed to find a rhythm, or stride, when it comes to posting.  That if I keep posting sporadically I will lose the interest of some of my readers.

I don't know how others do it, ensure that they have something to post each day, or even every other day.  I write when the mood strikes, when I have an idea, and when I have time.  I haven't been able to figure out yet how to put any of that on a schedule.  Especially since all of this is on the "down low".  I certainly can't take time away from my wife in the evening to write here, or time away at work.  Usually, I find a little time early in the morning when everyone else is still asleep.

I've said it before, this blog is for me.  It's my way of working through shit.  But I'd be lying if I said that I didn't care if any one read it.  I am guilty of stressing over the stats, wondering how I can get my numbers up, worrying why more people aren't commenting.  I'd love to have the popularity of Scott or TGK.  And maybe in time, I will.  For now, I will do what I can to keep myself from dwelling on it, and to keep this personal.  I am sure that I will find my stride, eventually.

That being said, if you've got something to say to me, please say it!  Comment, email, whatever, I want to hear from YOU.

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

FWB, FB, or Random Hookups?

Something I've been thinking about lately.  Now that I've gotten my feet wet, er, I mean, now that I've gotten my dick wet, what's the ideal situation for me?  Should I be lookin' for a Fuck Buddy (FB), or a Friend with Benefits (FWB)?  Or should I just stick to random hookups?

What's the difference between a Fuck Buddy and a FWB?  That's another question I've been pondering.  IMHO, the difference is in the relationship.  I fuck buddy is someone that I get together with just to fuck.  Not that I've crossed that bridge yet, but you get the idea.  There's no need to hang out with a fuck buddy unless you're gonna fuck, or suck, or whatever.  You're not friends.  But a Friend with Benefits is someone that you would hang out with, just to hang out.  Sex doesn't always have to be the primary goal.

Now, I know myself.  At least I like to think I do.  I know that I am more apt to look for a friend than a fuck buddy.  But to be honest, there's an emotional aspect to a FWB of which I think I'd steer clear.  Last thing I need, at this stage of my journey, is to get too attached to someone.

I've already hooked up with one guy twice.  That has the ingredients for a fuck buddy.  I know that I have no desire to hang out with the guy.  When I'm there, I am there for one thing only.  When I'm done, I'm gone.  It's become obvious that this guy isn't enough, though.  I might be turning into a Grindr addict, or a slut.  Even though I know that I could hook up with this guy when I need it, I am still logged into Grindr, or another equally convenient mobile app, whenever possible.  So maybe it's the random hookups that I'm going for?  Or maybe I need more than one fuck buddy.

The other guy, my second hookup, could easily become my FWB.  When I went to his house, I really wasn't expecting a blowjob.  I could see myself just hanging out with this guy, maybe even introducing him to my wife as a friend.  Maybe that's why I haven't made any real effort to find time to meet, because I know that it will go nowhere good.

Friday, August 12, 2011

So Now What?


It's strange to think that I have accomplished my goal, what I wanted when I decided to start this blog.  I actually thought it was going to take a lot longer.  I mean, I know that 25+ years is more than enough time to think about sex with men without actually acting on it.  But when I decided to start this blog, I really thought my journey to my first encounter would take longer.

I know that my fear and indecision in the beginning were probably annoying to many of you.  But oh well, to be honest, I didn't much worry about that.

So now what?

I could turn into a total cock slut to ensure that I have something to write about on a regular basis.  I'm not necessarily against that idea.  Really.  I'm not.  LOL.  I've had a great awakening experience so far.  But I don't think that is what I truly want.  I still have issues to deal with, obviously.  This blog has been my outlet, my expression of myself as I went on this journey.  I found that at times when I'm down, frustrated, depressed, confused, this blog has helped.  It's kept me positive.  But I've kept those parts of me, the darker parts, out of this blog.  It didn't fit with my original intention, so I felt it didn't belong.
HOT AS FUCK, Like this guy!!

I love talking about sex.  I mean, I really love talking, writing, or reading about sex.  But I think it's time I try to get the full value out of this community that has welcomed me with open arms.  It's time to be more real, more me.

Many of my fellow bloggers has posted a tremendous amount of thought and insight on the subject of married bisexual and homosexual men.  It's caused me to be very introspective over the last few weeks.  I've always knew I wasn't alone.  But I had no idea how "normal" I was.  It's given me new confidence, and a willingness, to decide what I want for myself and my life.  I don't know what that is yet, but I am starting to get an idea of what it isn't.  That's what I want to write about.

Don't worry, I be sure to throw in pics of "HOT AS FUCK" men for your enjoyment!  :)  And I am certainly not abandoning my journey.