Patrick Tells The Truth

Patrick has confessed something to me, and I'm surprised it doesn't bother me more.

When he responded to my craigslist ad, he said he was a young 49. When I got to his place the first night, I thought he didn't look so young for 49, but he still grew on me as the night went on. It was like our connection transcended age. It was more our spirits that connected. So what if he's ten years older?

Well, since we have such a strong connection, he decided to tell me his real age. According to him he has never told any lover his real age before. It honestly seems kind of foreign to me to live life that way, because I hate to try to keep track of all the lies out there, who I told what and trying to keep it all straight - what a waste of energy! I figured this out when I was a teen still living with my parents. All my other friends were trying to come up with elaborate schemes to get away with this or that or go to a drinking party or use their fake ID's to get into a strip club, etc. Because of my honesty I even got them in trouble sometimes, not being able to keep it together as to what the story was when this person or that person happens to be within earshot. Deception takes a lot out of me, and I generally avoid it at all costs.

So believe it or not, dear reader, my Patrick is 64 years old! My God! He's my friggin' parent's age! Regardless, I forgive him because if he had said he was that old from the start, I doubt I would have ever agreed to meet him. And besides, most all of the 25-year-old chicks that I'm interested in think 39 is over the hill. They would have no idea that I get carded for looking so young if I met them online, so I too have felt the urge to augment my youth when flirting online in chat rooms or whatever. It's so stupid that people place such high importance on just a number. They set limits and judgments in their mind about how people of a certain age act, and all it does is limit what experiences, friends and lovers they could have in their lives.

What really blows me away is that Patrick's only a couple years younger than my parents, but I still lust after him. I still dream about his cock. It's kind of weird because there's also this element of taboo there, like I'm fucking my grandpa. Gross huh? But he's not like any other sixty-plus year-old that I have ever met. He has opened my eyes in so many ways, that dirty old man! Lucky bastard gets a young, visceral, sex-crazed boyfriend out of the deal. Can I please be that lucky when I'm 64?

True Confessions: Outdoor Masturbator

Whenever I go for a hike in the woods, the supreme natural beauty all around me always gets me ridiculously horny. Being naked outside is one of life's great pleasures for me: the sun and wind tickling parts of my body normally forbidden from such enjoyment. There is also a thrilling element to being naked outside: the specter of getting caught.

When I'm in the forest alone, being naked and getting hard with the exposure is pretty much all I can think about. Even to the point of preferring to hike alone, because should the temptation arise, it is a rare hiking buddy that would not object to me pulling out my junk and waxing one out right there in my own special worship of the great outdoors.

There is also the seduction of taboo involved. While in the National Forest, one is essentially in public. I'm sure more than one park ranger (I always think of them as drop-out cops who failed the academy exam, and therefore took a job with similar authority so they could still control and command mere citizens) has delighted in catching someone jerking off outdoors, or maybe having sex, and carting them down to the poky to be booked on sex offense charges.

Which brings me to an important point about sex offenders. Society and the media today throws this label around as if all sex offenders were unrepentant perverts deserving of secondary-citizen status, that they are all borne of the same immoral scourge that threatens our personal safety and, veritably, the very fabric of society itself.

I think that's total bullshit.

A sex offender can be someone who simply got caught pissing on the side of the road, a woman who flashed her breasts at Mardi Gras, a blogger who drove down the highway with his cock in plain view, even the poor hiker who stroked one out while unwittingly caught in the lens of a park ranger's binoculars. It's called "indecent exposure," and for that their lives are gleefully destroyed, them being callously grouped with child pornographers, old-lady rapers, and snuff filmmakers.

"What is pornography to one man is the laughter of genius to another." - D.H. Lawrence

Perverted Early On

One time when I was maybe eleven or twelve, the family was on a trip to the lake with my brother, my dad and his sister, and her two kids. Out of my two cousins and my brother, only one was a girl, and she was younger than me by about three years.

When we got to the lake, my dad and aunt left us kids in the car and told us to change into our swimsuits. That's when my little cousin said, "look, my vulva!" and I turned around to see her totally naked, legs spread and her fingers parting her pussy lips, showing us all the pink inside.

At the time I didn't know what to think, as I didn't have a sister, and never even dreamed of seeing anything like that before. She must have felt left out, seeing our penises and somehow she felt a need to make sure us boys could see what was fancy about her body, too. It was one of those taboo moments because I knew I was seeing something I wasn't supposed to see, but also that I was seeing something that wasn't supposed to turn me on, bit it did make my dick tingle and bulge a bit, and that felt wrong.

To this day I still have inappropriate feelings toward all three of my girl cousins. Maybe because when she spread her lips that day, I wanted to touch her, and that unresolved urge combined with the taboo has grown into a fetish in my mind.

The more I've tried to repress the early sexual curiosities and perverted thoughts I had as a kid, the stronger they have all become.

New Pornos On The Way

Since my birthday is coming up, I decided to splurge and add a couple gay and bi DVD's to my collection. They shipped last Thursday and should be here any day now. My cock eagerly awaits the jerking it's going to get once they arrive. This is what I ordered:

9 Inch Males - I love to see a cock get pulled out of underwear and swing with heft.

Leather Half Off - Love leather, love gay porn. Enough said.

Secret Bisexual Stories - MMF threesomes, and anything goes. Where do I sign up?


UPDATE: They arrived and I'm enjoying the stimulation so far.

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?

Guilty Pleasures

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