Houston Opportunities: Update

Well, I found the place that's my cover story, a sports bar where women go to pick up men (can you believe it?!). The odds still weren't that great though. Not counting the obvious couples, the ratio was maybe 3:1, men to women. Can't complain though, because those numbers beat my hometown odds by a factor of ten. Now if only I had the ability to be that jackass who hits on every woman in the bar.

Tonight I had the perfect opportunity to come out to my friends that I'm staying with here (though as I've said before, I think it would be wise to have a gay experience first before making such an extraordinary declaration about my lifestyle) when they mentioned their bisexual friend again. I almost said, "I want to meet him." Which would have been just as well to get them off my back, because they were grilling me about meeting a woman.

I do appreciate my friends' concern that I am alone, and I appreciate them wanting to help me figure out what is holding me back from having more confidence with women. But also I wish they would just leave me the fuck alone about it. It always seems like it's the couple, the man and woman, that can't imagine life as single. It's as if to them life isn't worth living if you don't have a spouse. It's really bullshit and I get sick of it. Do people really think they can't be happy until they find "the one?" Or do they just tell themselves that so they won't just up and admit to themselves that they are truly miserable? It's almost like they want to spread the misery, that no man should be allowed to live his own life... that a life led unmarried is one wasted.

In so many ways, I want to just get it over with and have an experience so I can tell these guys what's really going on. I do feel that their concern for me is genuine, but it would just put the whole "meeting a woman" question to rest. I'd just say that I'm not sure a woman is what I want, and that would relinquish me from having to explain my failures with women, save me from having to drudge over all the bullshit sex roles that the heterosexual world places on people. That men have to be the aggressors. That women have to sit and wait to be approached. That men who are in touch with their feelings are probably gay. I'm just so sick of all the stereotypes and the lines drawn. In so many ways I just want to be free of this struggle, and say "fuck you, I like guys too. SO WHAT."

Also, it might get my friend to cool it with the gay jokes, if he knew he was hurting my feelings.

Urges Surface With Opportunity

I hadn't expected to be an absentee blogger for this whole week, but it turned out that way. I've felt largely uninspired by Houston so far. The job I'm checking out hasn't been what I hoped for. And the pollution has been really getting to me. Not only that, I miss home.

Despite my lack of motivation to blog or anything else this week - aside from my rant about kids brought on by holiday overload - I did feel a tinge of excitement as I googled "houston gay bars" yesterday, and have been looking for the opportunity to get away. Since my friend and his wife don't know I'm bisexual, I also need to find a good cover story, or at least a typical straight bar to say that I went to. But I don't want to go to a typical straight bar. This is about experiencing something new.

So my Google search turned up some encouraging results. Of course there's tons of choices, one is even a leather bar (oh how I wish I had brought my gear!). There are quite a few dance clubs, but one in particular looks to be just my type of place: I like a quiet, mellow, dimly lit bar. When I go out I don't usually want a lot of frantic action or flashy fanfare. I just want a nice classy place to chill out, sip a few martinis, and relax. No techno-throb or DJ's, nothing flamboyant or over the top. Just cool.

Also I really need to see if going to a gay bar lives up to my expectations. I expect that I will get hit on, that I will be approached, which would work perfectly for me because I'm shy and not too good at breaking the ice. As I've bitched about before, what sucks about being a hetero guy is that you have to make all the moves. It's a rare case in a thousand where the woman makes the advance. Most of the times guys have to belly up to the bar and put something out there, because if she's available she's probably just sitting at the bar waiting for someone to have the courage to make an advance. Why she doesn't have the courage to make an advance herself is beyond the point. The point is I want to be the one who gets to sit at the bar sipping my drink while suitors scramble to approach me.

I may well be too vain in assuming that anyone - male or female - would be interested in approaching me, and I may be setting myself up for even more despair if my plan fails, in the event that I am unable to attract any interest at all. But I'm willing to give it a try. Because the rejection I've faced in the heterosexual world would turn anyone's heart to stone.

Holiday Rant

I fucking hate kids. Hate 'em. That's probably half the reason I'm interested in men: I'd never have to worry about ending up with kids. Probably half the reason I can't get a woman either.

Why do I hate kids? Too many reasons to list here, so let me just go over the basics.

Kids make adults act like total dumb asses. Goo goo ga ga.

Kids are self centered and annoying (bless their rotten little hearts).

Kids make me have to hear nursery rhymes. I fucking hate nursery rhymes. More repetitive and simple-minded than Top 40 country music, and they stick in your head until suicide is the only way out.

Kids make me lose my appetite during the holidays while they make a fucking mess and fling food all over the place, blowing snot into the turkey, throwing carrots on the carpet, spitting, blowing bubbles, dumping mashed potatoes on their heads while their love-blind parents gush, "isn't that cute." No, it's disgusting.

Goddamn I hate kids, and God help me if I ever end up with one. That is all.

HNT Negative Exposure

Trip Today Shows Promise

I'm going to Houston for a few weeks on a working vacation. I'll be staying with my best friend and his wife. She's been pretty accepting of me, and my friend and I have been close friends for almost 25 years. He's always supported me no matter what I did, and the last time I was there, about a year ago, we were driving along to go out to eat and they told me about a friend of theirs who had recently gotten a divorce because he had realized that he was bisexual.

At the time, I was just past the point of realizing that and admitting it to myself, and for a split second I thought about coming out to them. It could have been so easy, too. I could have just said, "yeah, I've been dealing with a lot of those same feelings." It wouldn't have been a big deal, it was a perfect segue.

So now I'm going to visit them again. They are encouraging me to get out on my own, too, to go out to places and see the city on my own terms. After all, I might be accepting a job there.

The cool thing is that it's such a gay-friendly city. If I mustered the strength to go out - for I am truly a homebody - I could go to any gay bar or cruise spot that I wanted to. And because I'm in a strange big city, I could do it anonymously. Being there may be the perfect opportunity because I will be away from my small city where chance run-ins and gossip circles abound.

So I had this fantasy of asking my friend for that guy's phone number, the one who came out as bisexual. Then I could let my best friend know about my struggle, and immediately have a local support network to go out and flirt with some guys. I'd love to just talk to this guy about what it was like to come out, how his sex life has changed and is it for the better? Then ask him if he wants to go back to his place and play around, that I'd love to touch his cock. I'm getting stiff just fantasizing about it here!

While I'm away I'll try to keep up with this blog, and I'll definitely keep you all up to date on any adventures, encounters, or conquests along the way.

Strip Club Bliss

I went to the strip club during the daytime again yesterday. This time it was great. I only saw a few of the girls that were there last week, so it was nice to see some fresh faces. Amazingly, this time there were only a couple of girls there with fake tits. All the other girls had nice small natural tits. I was in heaven!

As usual, I let about a half hour go by, maybe ten songs, to give the ladies a chance to make the rounds and complete the circuit. As I've mentioned before, I like to get a good sampling of who's there that day so I can pick my lap dance wisely. I figure if I'm going to pay for some attention, it might as well be from a woman who wouldn't regularly give me the time of day. Half the fun at the club for me is getting to talk to such gorgeous ladies.

After about a half hour of ladies paraded across the stage, I set my sights on two dancers to make my choice. They both had incredibly smooth skin, nice proportional hips, and the little B-cups that I love so much. Most of the time, I'll let them know I'm interested by coming up to the stage, getting a little booty shake, tits in my face, a leg spread, then tuck a dollar under her g-string. If I know she's the one, I'll tuck a fiver and say, "come talk to me." Out of the two that I had narrowed out, of course I went for the younger one, but not only because of that, you see, this girl could dance! She had rhythm and moves, and best of all, she could do the splits like there was no tomorrow.

It can safely be said that any man with a hint of hetero goes nuts for a woman who can do the splits.

I ended up getting six songs from her. All at once. After the first song I was like, "don't stop" and then by the fourth song I knew she could make me come. She had unbuttoned my shirt, was fingering my chest hair, pinching my nipples. She let me tuck my thumbs under her g-string as she grinded her pussy into my throbbing bulge. She did back bends, the splits on my cock, teased me with her lips just a breath away from mine, all the while I could feel the pressure building.

Halfway through the last song I unloaded bursts of hot cum into my pants. I was lucky that I had been tucked a bit to the side, because with my shirt open, if I had been sticking straight up I would have come all over her. I would have preferred that, but I'm sure it would have caused a scene, probably ending in the bouncers beating me to a pulp.

Her perfume was so strong that even after I got home, washed my clothes and took a shower, I could still smell it on me. Sleeping throughout the night last night, her smell mingled with my imagination, and I dreamt of sweet summer days with my new 19-year-old stripper girlfriend. Sometimes you just don't want to wake up!

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