Craigslist Ad Leads to the Unexpected

The other day I posted a heartfelt poem on craigslist about what I'm searching for. Funny thing was that its in the "men seeking women" section, and I guess my post really spoke to a lot of people 'cause I got lots of responses - including one from a gay guy! Here is the poem I wrote:

I see beauty everywhere, my eyes focus like a lens
My mind wanders seeking expression in words
I am shy and reserved, yet open and self aware
I love conversation and the power of ideas
I want to understand and to be understood
I am deep, spiritual, honest and kind
Sometimes I’m blue, but I always see the good
I know you’re out there, help me find you
I love writing, music, the vast outdoors
I’m here for the mountains, sun and sky
So much love and no one to share
The only thing missing is you...

So the very night I posted it, I got a curious response that said, "What a beautiful post, is it only for women?" And I wrote back, "Maybe... Tell me about yourself." And this really sweet guy named Patrick wrote me back offering a massage and to hang out. We ended up talking on the phone for like 2 hours that night. Then we talked on the phone again today for about an hour. And I'm going over to his house in about an hour.

This is very exciting because it is totally new territory for me, and also to be on the verge of fulfilling a longtime fantasy, to hang out with a really tender and sweet gay guy with the potential for more, like fooling around! He has a hot tub and he smokes pot, so at the very least it will be nice to just chill with a natural person. There's a lot I want to talk about, about being gay, about being queer, bi, or whatever, and I want to confide in him these feelings I've been having, because it seems like he'll really understand.

Our spiritual connection on the phone is really obvious, and there's a lot of sexual tension but still in a comfortable way. Of course my cynical and fearful side wants to force me to cancel, but I don't think I'm going to let that happen. He seems really genuine and real, and seems like at the very least he could be a good guy friend that I can actually talk to about all of this inside of me. He's older than me by about ten years, so I don't really know if there'll be an attraction or any chemistry there, but there's only one way to find out! We talked about so much deep stuff on the phone, I think he has a little crush on me because he said he really hoped that there was physical chemistry between us. I kinda hope so too.

Tomorrow's post will be about what happened tonight! Wish me luck, dear friends! Here's to a brand new year.

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.

Still Confused and Searching

Even after over a year of self-admittance, even after three months of daily posts on this blog, I’m still confused… what am I? Am I just a desperate straight guy with a bi-curiosity? Am I truly bisexual? Am I gay and just hanging on to the hope of finding a woman? What’s going on here?

I’m glad to have memories throughout my life of gay urges to reflect upon. That makes the fact that they have surfaced so strongly easier to face somehow, like it hasn’t all come on all at once and thus been a surprise to me.

If I was less self aware, I might not recognize my path: from lonely desperation to a narcissist who fell in love with his own cock, which led to the association of cock with arousal and fed my gay fantasies. Still feeling attraction to women, I could only assume that I must be bisexual, but am I?

I don't seem to be entirely turned on by gay sex. In some ways it feels more like an intrigue, like an urge to experience it. When I think about just abandoning women and going all gay, I immediately think of all the things about women that, although I may be jealous of and can’t seem to get, I totally love and could never give up. I end up having to admit to myself that my attraction to men is not as complete as to women, that it doesn't consume my whole being, that I don't simply melt with desire like when I see an attractive woman. I don't feel that deep inner spark, it's more of a fleeting yet permanently real fascination.

I’m not sure if this is because I haven't really experienced it completely or what. I’m not yet familiar with the sounds and smells of gay sex, the tastes and touch, the sinewy, hairy, sweaty male pheromones, the sensual stuff that words can't describe, the ethereal side that I long to have with women, yet seem to have so much trouble getting.

What will my first gay experience bring me? Will it be a release? An awakening? Will I feel fulfillment? Guilt? Disgust? Will I realize that women can't give me love or satisfaction any more than a man? Or that men can’t give me what I really want? Or the other way around?

There’s only one way to know, obviously. In many ways I wish women were as available as men so I wouldn’t feel like I had to turn to men out of desperation for women. It would make it a little clearer, since affection has been so scarce for me in the heterosexual world, it makes me wonder if I’m just adapting my sexuality and fantasies just to be able to get some play.

Subconcious Gay Crush

Fifteen years ago, I had this friend in college, he was a few years younger than me. We used to hang out together, mostly in his room. I'd come over with a bunch of weed and we'd smoke it until it was gone, music loud. At the time I can remember wondering if he was any bit gay or bi, but I never had the balls to ask him. I remember secretly hoping he would come on to me, but I'm not sure I actually acknowledged to this myself. It was more of a secret crush -- a secret even to me.

Five years or so after college, he and his girlfriend came up to visit a few hours north. Later I visited him where he lived, and by then my gay urges had surfaced a bit more, but I was still oblivious to my sexual attraction to men. At the time it was a curious quirk that came and went, nothing that caused me too much concern. Some of the feelings I was having made me wonder if I was gay, but overall my sexual orientation was all straight. All straight porn, straight relationships, straight dreams and fantasies.

Now a full ten years after that, and upon reflection I realize that I had a crush on him. He was very good looking, slightly geeky, a bit effeminate. I knew he dated girls, but in this subconscious way I hoped maybe he had experience with men, and would show me a thing or two. Looking back now, I wish I had talked to him about it.

Today, I still fantasize about him. I imagine that he has a big cock and a smooth chest, and knows how to mentor a newbie gently. To this day I wish he was my first.

Ass Play Preparations

Yesterday when I was in the shower, after my normal genital shaving routine, I had an overwhelming urge to shave my asshole too.

So I lathered up good and stepped out of the shower, dripping wet, and went into my room. I laid down a towel on the floor and knelt facing away from the mirror. When I leaned over from kneeling and peered between my legs, I could see my entire ass. And I shaved my ass crack, asshole and perineum bare, and returned to the shower to rinse.

Later I rubbed in Vitamin E oil to soothe any razor burn, because it was a really close shave. Feeling my ass and balls so smooth got me horny so I knelt backwards back in front of the mirror and used the oil to massage my asshole and watch at the same time. Soon my pucker hole was relaxed and comfortable and I put in a fingertip, pulling gently, massaging while I stroked my cock. Within no time I came hard on the towel, and felt an urge to have more than just a fingertip in me.

After my self-inflicted massage, I logged on to Desert Pride, and gave in to my desires to train my ass to be fucked. I ordered two butt plugs and two dildos, small and mediums, and instantly got hard again at the excitement of having finally shed my inhibitions by ordering the ass-play items I have been craving.

I will keep updates coming as the items arrive and work their way into my masturbatory exploits.

Libido Back On Track

Between writing my fantasy story about the figure drawing and yesterday's post of some hot video clips, my sex drive is back in full swing. Once again I've been jerking off to pretty much only gay material, a few tranny and bisexual episodes in between; but for the most part it's been all gay. I think I'm intoxicated with the idea of experiencing what it's like to get a guy hard. To experience that power and control that women must feel over men, straight men anyway, that they could do something sexy and he'd just melt like putty in her hands. The power of subtle sexual control, by being the cause of his erection, the knowledge that grabbing hold of and massaging his cock would be a sensation he could not resist. I think a lot of why I am so attracted to gay fantasies is because of the aspect of envy, that I am jealous of women's control over men. If I was with a man, I might experience some of that power trip, and frankly it'd be just plain fun to have a man paralyzed with arousal. And being a guy, at least I know not to leave him hanging with blue balls, as a fellow guy I'd have enough sense to finish the job.

Gay Urges Explained

Lately I've been masturbating to gay material pretty much exclusively. I don't know if this is because I'm becoming more gay, less bisexual, or if I'm gearing up for my first experience, or if I'm finally giving up on women or what. It's weird because usually I'm pretty self aware and clued-in to what's going on inside of me. This one is kind of confusing though. I've been on the gay/straight fence for so long, sometimes I wonder if I'm hanging on to bisexuality in the hopes that there's a women out there for me. It's like I'm afraid to give up on women, afraid to totally disavow my attraction to them, for fear that I'd be letting something go that I still want. But then the pain of failure surfaces again and I immediately feel the bitterness bubble up... They make it so hard! And I'm not just talking about my dick.

I simply want my cock worshiped. I don't care what gender gives it the attention it needs, just as long as I'm attracted to them, and as long as they treat my trouser snake like a friggin' king-god. Kneel before it, kiss it, lick it, suck it, shower it with love and affection. Treat it like an altar, a sacrament, show it respect and admiration. Force it down your throat, expertly guide it deep into your ass. Love every inch.

The most alluring thing about having a gay experience is the assumption that my cock will be treated to the attentive affections of someone who knows what the hell they are doing. What makes dicks feel good is no mystery to gay men. They understand cock intimately, what it craves, what makes it tick. The penis is not an extraordinarily complex organ, yet it can shrivel in the hands of the inexperienced and the timid.

I want to be naked on a bed, lean back with my hands behind my head, and have some muscular masseuse oil my engine and coax out a cumload. I want an intimate massage from some hot beefcake, and see him get hard through high-cut silky gym shorts. Then reach out while he stands over me and stroke his cum out all over my chest and abs.

Closet Dweller Blues

Wouldn't my life be easier out of the closet? I'd rather keep my personal business to myself, but at the same time all this sneaking around is bullshit. I have to worry about leaving out gay pornos or not closing gay-surfed browser windows, friends come over unannounced and might see the stuff by accident. So that makes me think that at least if they knew, it wouldn't be such a surprise if they saw that my screensaver is a closeup of a big hard cock.

And if I fell in love with a man, I'd have to hide it from my parents or come out. So it might be better to just explain to my mom and dad that my sexuality is open, that I might date a man or a woman, and I am open to all possibilities. Then if I did meet a guy, it wouldn't be a shock to them, and they would have much less chance of misunderstanding. I'm not afraid that they would disown me, just that we are so close that they might be hurt that I didn't tell them earlier, before I brought home a "serious interest" who turned out to be a dude.

My brother pretty much knows already, though I never officially told him my bisexual discovery. Years ago I told him I thought I might be gay, and he said if I didn't know for sure by thirty I was probably bisexual. He even said he kissed a boy in college. I was like, "what was that like?" He said, "pretty much just like kissing a girl."

My best friend probably wouldn't care, he has supported me no matter what I have ever done in my life. We have been friends for 22 years, and he's stuck with me through some fucked up phases in my life. I think he might be a little uncomfortable with it, but he's already primed - his wife's friend's ex-husband just came out as bisexual.

My good friend here in town is the one who thinks people are all gay or not. So he'd probably be OK with me being gay, that's the way he'd have to understand it, I think. Because he wouldn't understand bisexual. So whatever.

The only person in my life that I think would have a really big problem with it is my business partner. He considers me his best friend, and far as I know he's against homosexuality. He was raised religiously, and thinks people can do whatever they want, but also thinks it's wrong. So coming out to him might put a strain on my professional life.

But other than that there's no one I can think of who is really important to me that would really have a serious problem. I have already disowned my most homophobic friends already for other reasons.

So I think I should probably come out, but since I'm only a theoretical bisexual - a virgin - how can I be sure I like gay sex? I like to jerk off to gay porn, and not much man-on-man action "bothers" be anymore. Not sure if I'm desensitized, or just found my inner gay; but I think I should have my first real gay experience to be sure that I don't false-alarm my friends and family.

Cocks Have Character!

I think male genitalia is beautiful. Cock, balls, yeah it's a beautiful thing. About ten years ago I hadn't realized this yet, although I had this overwhelming urge to photograph my own cock. It had been a lingering fantasy for a long time, but this was before the days of digital technology. Photos had to be professionally printed at the time, and the technician was sure to see.

The first closeup I took of myself naked was with film, outdoors, on top of a large rock outcrop. The feeling was amazing, my cock stiffened immediately under the attention of the lens. At that moment I realized that a lot of the thrill of watching pornos was imagining fucking someone under all those lights and cameras, that the exhibitionism aspect was that much more enhanced. Once my cock and balls got out there under the sun, exposed and scrutinized, knowing that the film technician would get an anonymous glimpse of my sunlit erection, I knew that I wanted more. I craved having my cock the focus of the lens.

My first digital camera was purchased practically with the sole intent of taking lurid closeups of my dick. I wanted to document every stage of erectness, every shape, size and character that my cock is capable of. But for years I couldn't even get a shot of it soft, because every time I reached for the camera to take a picture of it in that stage, it would bulge up before I could even turn the camera on. To this day I have not gotten a shot of my dick in the most flaccid, shrunken turtle head way it gets, because it always reacts a little bit before I get the picture off. That shot of my smallest state has alluded me like the giant squid alluded science.

Erections are monumental symbols of power, strength and pride, standing tall and firm. They are like pillars of sex, a flesh obelisk of pulsing, throbbing, cum delivering passion. Cock is a pipe organ of pleasure, a heat seeking missile designed to fuck. The shape is purely penetrative, intended to deliver the payload as effectively as possible.

A cock wants to feel its head pushing against a wet hole, to feel the rim succumb to its stiff mass, to feel its head part open the entry and slide in. To be gripped on all sides, enveloped in warmth moisture, to be sliding in and out, plunging in balls deep, the smooth friction along the shaft and tickling of the head, this is why a cock exists in this world: to fuck.

Some cocks stick up, some straight out, some straight down, some one side or the other, some curved, some bent. Cocks come in as many shapes, types and sizes as trees, and each one has infinite stages of hard to soft, shriveled to swollen. Individualistic and unique veining, ripples along the shaft, a muscular thickness, aggressive character, and a sinewy, tenacious sexual physique.

The ball sack that accompanies the dick has just as many personality moods, stretching, bending, moving, adjusting. It is the temperature regulator, pulling the nuts in close when cold and letting them out when hot, constantly adapting to microscopic environmental factors.

It wasn't long after I started photographing and filming my own cock that I accepted the urge to see other guys cocks. Just to compare, I told myself at first, but soon I was collecting favorite cock shots off the internet. This is the first cock pic I ever saved (left), I just had to have this amazing beautiful black snake. Not long after that, having jerked off to my own masturbation videos so many times, I gave in to the urge to watch another guy jerk off, and I bought a gay masturbation video. Soon after that I bought my first gay prono.

It has all been a progression of acceptance, becoming self aware, and brave enough to admit that I love cock. And to not judge myself for that, but to embrace it, own it, love it, and act upon it.

Pendulum Away From the Pedestal

Since I've been writing this blog, I've been more clued in to my sex drive on a daily basis. Writing about sexy things every day has got me feeling horny most of the time. My posts are often spontaneous, but when I'm writing my stories, I usually take a few days to play out the scenarios in my head, and decide how I want the story to go. During this time I am constantly thinking about sexual fantasies and flirtatious situations.

I like to have photos accompany my short stories, so I'll do a lot of porn surfing looking for the right pic. Several times I have found something different than what I was looking for, but something so hot that I have to grab hold of my cock and jerk off right there. This constant stimulation can add days to when a story I'm writing actually gets published, as I keep getting distracted with all the porn surfing and wanking.

My libido has been swinging from straight to gay lately, leaving not much else in between. The other week when I was writing about ex-girlfriends and the pleasures of pussy, my sex drive was focused on women, all my porn surfing dedicated to jerking off to pictures of hot, young, naked women.

Last week, though, I have felt scantly the urge to stroke my love muscle to pictures of women. I've only been surfing for pictures of big beautiful cocks, cute fuckable guys, pert shaved little assholes, muscular asses, shoulders, hips and thighs. My dreams have been consumed with a lust for cock. Pussy has barely even crossed my mind.

I'm generally a shy person, and I think that's what keeps me from going out and trying to hook up. Although I have only thus far fantasized about gay sex, somehow it doesn't seem like it would be that hard to get. Guys love to fuck. I'm sure women do too, but our society has this crazy prude/slut dilemma in which women use the prospect of sex for manipulation. My impression is that most women don't really like sex on a fundamental level, but they know men do, so they use it as a tool to manipulate men into doing what they want. They use pussy as leverage to control them.

Whereas between two men, they know the whole point is to get laid, there's no misunderstanding there. And they haven't had all this Cinderella, glass slipper, Knight in Shining Armor bullshit driven down their throats their whole life. They haven't been tricked by this damsel in distress imagery that makes American women think their cunts are the holy grail, a secret treasure only to be deployed when she thinks he might be her Prince Charming, a lure to get that ring on her finger. Then the majority of men who commit to traditional marriage have put the pussy on a pedestal, and rarely ever get to see it again. Countless married men have proven this theory.

Now, I'm sure there are exceptions to every rule, and sexual dynamics are greater than my atrophied perspective. I imagine much of my impetus for the development of this theory has been my overall difficulty in assuming the roles required of men to "get laid" by American women [Side note: American women are mostly prude in their home country, though I have heard they cut loose overseas]. The behavior publicly displayed by men to try to get in some chick's pants is nothing short of comical.

I'm looking forward to testing my theory at the gay bar. It's not a matter of not having the opportunity, it's a matter of going outside of my comfort range to allow the prospect to arise. But once I'm there, I have a feeling that talking to guys and hooking up will feel more natural and not as contrived as in the hetero world. Women demand a mind-boggling array of flips, jumps, hoops, performance tests, shell games, mystery and silent innuendo to get into their pants. Men will take yours off for you.

Japanese Spa Fantasy

I went to our local Japanese Spa for a soak in the hot springs. Once in the locker room, as I undressed and put my stuff in my locker and got on on my robe, I remembered that my cock and balls were perfectly groomed. That morning I had given myself a beautiful sculpted manscaping, and as I made my way to the clothing-optional hot tubs, I caught myself secretly hoping someone would notice.

I slipped off my robe and hung it on a peg. Fortunately there were only a few people in the main tub, no kids, just a young couple speaking quietly, some nude sunbathers on the benches, and one other man who appeared to be alone. The couple was in their own world and barely saw me getting into the tub, but I noticed the man catching a glimpse of my groomed package as I slid into the water. A knowing smile emerged from the corner of his lips, and he cast me a glance and raised his eyebrows. I rarely come to the spa, and I had heard straight guys complain about being hit on by gay men there. Being the adventurous soul that I am, I wanted to see what that would be like. Looks like I was getting my wish.

I sat next to the ladder, enjoying the warmth of the water and the cool air on my neck and shoulders. Within minutes the couple got out of the tub and went over to the sauna. Of course I sneaked a peek of them on their way out of the tub, it's simply my nature. The guy said as soon as they were out of earshot “I couldn’t help but notice your trim job... Are you gay?” I thought this was rather forward of him, but figured his curiosity was justified. Probably more gay men shave and groom their cocks than straight men, I thought.

“No, not exactly,” I tease, "but I'm not against it either."

We introduce, and he casually said, “I have a private tub reserved in ten minutes... care to join me?”

My dick perked up and swelled under the water with the offer. "I'll have to wait a few minutes... you just got me hard." I smiled coyly and he laughed.

We talked about this and that, current events, politics, just basically small talk. I kept the subjects off of anything that my dick might mistake for a reason to get hard again. Even at 38 my libido seems like it's just as strong as it was when I was 18. I never got over crude humor, never stopped thinking about sex constantly, never stopped jerking off daily. So my cock has this way of responding to titillating conversation and if I was going to get out of that tub, I wasn't going to have the patrons complaining to the office about erections, which I had heard about before at this place. Apparently some of the men weren't waiting until they got to the private tubs and some families had rightfully been offended. So the place was on high alert.

His name came over the intercom, "Paul, Paul, your private tub is ready." As we got out of the tub I was trying desperately to keep from dwelling on the opportunity I was about to have. I tried not to think about the people that would see us getting out together and the fact that I'm in the closet. I tried not to look up his ass at his nuts as he got out. I tried so hard to stay cool but instead I got hard again, and I climbed up out of the pool with a half hard dick and grabbed for my robe and put it on as fast as I could. I don't think anyone noticed, but I'm sure he did.

We walked down the path to the private tub. This Japanese Spa has themed private rooms and courtyards that have tubs at varying degrees with a sauna, a garden and places to lay out in the sun. This was the Jade Room, once we disrobed we got into the water. The time for talking had passed, it was clear why he had invited me here.

Sitting across the tub from each other on opposing benches, we looked into each other's eyes, silently flirting. Our feet met under the warm water and we touched, inching our feet up each other's legs, up to the knee and past the thigh, and soon our feet were in our crotches, massaging ourselves. It was very sensuous and different than anything I've experienced before, just casual touching and silent communication.

He floated over close to me and we embraced, our cocks entangling under the surface like water snakes. We kissed, he nibbled my neck and I tried hard not to let out a sigh, knowing that the outdoor private tub was still within earshot of the very public path. The spa was supposed to be a quiet place to meditate. Affection and sex were frowned upon there, after all it was a family establishment, not a wild gay sex club! It was important to stay calm, cool, and collected.

I reached under the water and cupped his balls with my hand, we kissed deeper, and he pushed himself on me in a subtly aggressive way. I could tell he was getting pretty horny and wanted to fuck me in the ass.

With the pressure of his physical advance, it was probably good that I told him I only top. He seemed disappointed, but said he understood, and asked if I wanted to go into the sauna so he could suck me off. It was clear he was looking for a little bit more action than just kissing and touching, so I backed away from him, got up out of the water and leaned back in the sun. "Let's just stay here."


He moved over to me and put his arms up on my thighs, took my cock in his hands and buried his face in my balls. As I leaned back, he licked and gently sucked my smooth shaved sack while slightly stroking my cock. It felt amazing to be out in the sun, with the feeling of the breeze and his arms weighing my thighs down, the mixture of sensations throbbed me to a thick, full erection. I looked down to double check I wasn't dreaming, and he looked deep into my eyes and without hesitation took me all the way into his throat. I gasped.

With the suction he was applying to my dick, it wasn't long before my cum was flooding his throat. He sucked me dry and swallowed every drop. Right then the front desk came over the intercom, "Paul, your half hour is almost up."

After I gathered my composure I said, "thanks for the private invitation." I winked. We put on our robes and made our way to the lockers. We quietly showered and dressed as if nothing had happened, and on his way out he handed me his number. "Call me if you want to soak again."

Homo Erotic Massage

When I was in high school, I used to raid my dad's Playboys and Penthouses. The Penthouse magazines were more dirty so of course I always leaned more toward them. One had a story about a married man who had gotten a professional massage from his wife as a gift for their anniversary. The masseuse was a man, and in the story the guy got an erection during the massage, and the masseuse jerked him off and made him come, then quietly finished up the massage.



That story was so exciting because at that time I was completely in the closet to myself, so I was surprised to be turned on by it. Since then I have always wanted to get a massage from some hot guy and when I get hard he strokes me off, just like in the story.



I have only ever gotten professional massages from women, for fear of my cock reacting to this fantasy. It's against professional ethics to massage private parts, and I've only ever paid for a massage from a licensed massage therapist. I've never been to a massage parlor or erotic massage type place, just offices and spas.

Anyway, I'd love to get an erotic massage from some beautiful guy someday, like in the story I read as a teenager, and get stroked by some hunky sexy naked guy. It would be even more exciting if he got hard too, because then I'd know that he was turned on by massaging me and it would get me even harder. It would be great to have a handjob last as long as a paid massage, say, half an hour?

I recently bought a bottle of Astroglide. It's really slippery and lasts a long long time. I've been jerking off with it every once in a while, trying not to overuse it. I've wanted to save it for when I get some beginner anal toys, it's great for anal, I've been told.

Confusion After Buying First Gay Magazine

I don't like to live my life in fear or as an overly suspicious person. That's why conspiracy theories and blind mistrust of authority always bothered me. But I used to have a friend who often made me wonder if he was spying on me. One incident was particularly strange.

About five years ago, long before I connected the dots and came to the obvious conclusion that I am bisexual, I succumbed to an urge to go out and buy a gay porno magazine. I went to a different part of town and picked out a Hastings to shop for my guilty desire. I went in, cased out the magazine rack, grabbed a SWANK, Penthouse, and a Honcho magazine.

I looked around to see if anyone saw. My heart was pounding. My face was flush. My brain was flooded with guilty excitement. I was about to purchase a gay pornographic magazine! What would the clerk think? She thought nothing of course.

Once back home, I almost immediately got a call from my friend. He said something very strange which has been unsettling to this very day. "Don't go gay on me dude."

"What?"


"Don't go gay on me."

"Whatever, dude."

"OK man, I'm just saying, don't go gay on me."

I changed the subject, but still this bothered me to no end. How had he known I just bought a gay magazine? Did he have a trail on me? Happen to have a contact in the store who called him right away? Was he a freaking member of the homophobic psychic network? WHAT THE HELL?! Fuck him, I thought, and jerked off over the magazine anyway. I wasn't going to let this intrusion keep me from fulfilling a fantasy.

That so-called friend ended up stealing from me, and that gave me the courage to dissolve the friendship. I realized that he was a selfish, manipulative, greedy person. A colossal taker. But what he said that day has always bothered me. Are people really that judgmental, jealous, suspicious, or whatever, that they would spy on a friend? Was it just freaky coincidence?

The Allure of Gay Porn

Some straight porn has reacted to criticisms that it’s too phalli-centric, becoming more focused on female arousal, and less about the cock and the all mighty money shot. While I commend the porn industry for catering to more vanilla-sex heterosexual and mainstream couples, I also mourn the loss of some good old cock centered porn.

That's what rules about gay porn: it's all about the cock. Usually with a quick, cursory overview of the rest of the body, and then the camera zeros in on the phallus. Then the cock worship begins. Big beautiful throbbing thick juicy cock. The wonderful fuck machine, cum spurt volcano python god.

Men in orgasm tend to be focused on their cocks, at least in masturbation and porn, where seeing the spurts of cum are as much of the experience as the euphoric feelings. Soon the visual aspect of the ejaculate can become inexorably attached to the orgasm experience itself. While women's sexuality is generally a full-body arousal, a man's sexuality focuses on his cock.

Gay porn satisfies the male urge to have the phallus worshiped. Men sucking and fucking, jerking off on each other, mixing cum on flawless abs. Men have cocks and therefore understand the organ better than most women. To their credit, there are some truly talented cock-worshiping women out there, and the best female lovers I have ever had have understood this cock-centric principle.

I do hope my first gay encounter is with a talented cock sucker. The last five or ten women I've been with have had limited, timid cock sucking skills. Good cock suckers seem so rare in the heterosexual world, I kind of have high expectations for my first gay lover. He better suck a mean cock, have amazing deep throat skills, or I might as well be with a woman.

Give Me A Passable Tranny

I'd love to have a passable tranny girlfriend. For an in-the-closet bisexual, that'd be an ideal situation. Introduce her to all my homophobic straight friends, kiss her in front of them, all the while only she and I know that she's got a dick under her skirt. Some of my friends might even lust after her if she was pretty enough, now that'd be funny. Poetic justice.

I've heard some supposedly straight guys say they'd sleep with a tranny. So basically they wouldn't kick a dick out of bed, as long as the person attached didn't look like a man. Weird. I have a feeling that's just an extension of the social stigma placed on men against bisexuality. Female bisexuality somehow seems to be more accepted in our society. Again, I think this is just a subconscious form of homophobia.

I've heard countless homophobic guys say something like, "I'm not against gay men, I just think what they do is gross." Yet in the same breath they'll say how hot is is for two women to be together, or that they like girl-on-girl porn. Talk about a double standard! Pass judgment on two men as gross, but then to like the idea of two women together. I would consider that to be a homophobic projection of one's own insecurities. But who am I to judge?! ;)

So give me a hot ass glamorous tranny girlfriend with the curves of a woman, yet she's all man between the legs. Now that's hot.

Gay? The All Or None Myth

Dan Savage, in his August 7th, 2008, syndicated column, Savage Love, "So I Married a Fag Hag" said, "As for 'playing for the other team' ... that can indeed be just a phase — but for women, not men. Men... prefer erotica that plays exclusively to their professed sexual orientation. Which means, of course, that female sexuality is a fluid and male sexuality is a solid."

Though his statement is based on "scientific" research, I wholeheartedly disagree. I would like to know what methods were used in the study that he cited, what the control group was, and how well they designed the experiment to eliminate subjectivity? Were the men asked to personally rate their arousal when shown nude photographs? Or was the data drawn from more objective methods? It seems to me that with the strong social pressure for men to be either straight or gay, few would openly admit arousal when shown a picture of a nude man. In my opinion, to get the most accurate results researchers would need to observe changes in the test subjects' physiology, more deep seated than merely the conscious. I believe that arousal occurs in the subconscious, on a level deeper than that over which we have control.

I have always felt an attraction to both men and women, even before I came out to myself, so the conclusions of the study are simply not in step with my own personal experience. I have strong gay urges sometimes, but have never felt the repulsion to pussy that many gay men have professed. One gay man I know said he never felt an attraction to women on any level, even from when he was a boy. For me, on the other hand, I was always intrigued by women, even from an early age. When I see an attractive woman now, I feel waves of lust, my loins stirred by her curves. I feel magnetized to the delicate skin between her breasts, intoxicated by the thought of her pussy folds cradled by her underwear, hidden and out of sight. To me pussy is a delight. To many gay men, pussy is a disgusting mess.

It is my opinion that we are all a little bit gay, men and women alike. If all social constraints were stripped down, and men weren't afraid of their naturally gay urges, would we have such cut and dry definitions for sexual orientation? I seriously doubt it.

First Glimpse at Gay Mag

When I was a teenager, I used to find porno mags in a 2,200 acre preserve near my house. Its one of those weird things that just kept happening to me. I guess sometimes some of the city people came out to the suburbs with a dirty mag they got in the city, found a private spot in the woods and had their way with the images. I had found a Hustler and a few Penthouses at other times, so when I saw the familiar glossy cover one day I was met with the young teenage hormone thrill and anticipation of getting to see some skin.

This time though, when I picked up the magazine, it was a gay porno mag! Startled, I threw it back on to the ground, half-sickened at what it was, but then felt instantaneously curious about what was in those pages. I tried to drive the urges away by walking away from it, but convinced myself that I'd look at it to see if I was gay, that if I got hard like with the girlie mags, that's how I'd know.

So I went back to the magazine feeling simultaneously too scared to look, too curious not to, but I did and suddenly felt faint. I put the magazine down and left it there, feeling guilty yet relieved that my dick didn't get hard. I did like what I saw in the back of my mind, but I was too afraid to admit it. That would take me another 20 years.

Early Gay Crushes, Barbies, Leotards

When I was five, I had an overwhelming desire to play with Barbies. I can remember one such case where I was with my family at a grown up party, and the all kids had been let loose in the house to play on their own. The boy who lived there had an older sister, and I went to her room to see if her and her friends had any Barbies, and asked if I could play with them, they laughed and said, "boys don't play with Barbies." I never asked to play with Barbies again.

When I was around the same age, I wanted to wear a leotard, like the ones girls wear in gymnastics. So I asked my mom, and she got me a black one with white tights, and a green one with yellow tights. We would make the green and yellow one into a Robin costume with a red belt, yellow cape and yellow ® on the chest. The black leotard was for my own superhero. I can remember even at that young age getting boners in those leotards. I felt ashamed that girls clothes made my little PP hard.

I was a shy and reserved kid, always afraid of sexual curiosity. I chickened out when it came my turn to strip after an older girl and I had made a deal. I couldn't get the courage to make my "two minutes in the closet" a worthwhile event. I was a repressed kid, crippled by my own fears and confusion about intimacy and attraction.

Only a year ago I figured out and admitted to myself that I am bisexual. I wonder how my life would have been different had I the courage to accept my childhood TV crushes on Ponch, BJ McKay, and the Karate Kid. If I had the support of family and community that bisexuality was as beautiful as any part of me, if those feelings weren't repressed for all these years, how would I be different?

I'm still in the closet. I've only told a few people, and one of them I don't even trust anymore. I'm living a virtually celibate life of secret desires and lonely desperation, still too afraid to reach out and act on these indelible urges.

Early Urges

From when I was a kid right on through high school to college, whenever in the locker rooms or showers, I always found it hard not to glance at other guy’s cocks.

At the community pool in my hometown, grown men walked around the locker rooms naked, open showers lined the walls, the room had no privacy and I was always curious of their penises and their thick, dark tufts of pubic hair.

At summer camp, I can remember at age 12 maybe, the whole age group took showers together with the counselors. It was a different time than now, when these things were looked upon as normal. All of the boys had small, hairless cock and balls like me, but there was one kid who had already reached puberty, and his cock hung low to his knees. A little boy with a huge grown man penis!

In college, which is long before I realized I was bi, a guy friend and I used to play racquetball and use the gym and showers afterward. I quickly noticed that I never caught him glancing at my package, but that I glanced casually all the time. Was he just not looking? Or was he catching a glimpse on the sly? Did he notice me glancing? I never said anything about it to him.

I always cop a scope. There’s too much beauty in a cock not to look!