Drew and the Vaginas

Over the last year,  I think there has not been a week that has gone by that I have not evolved a wee bit in my sexuality or in my viewpoints about the sexuality of others. Though he has directly been responsible for much of this evolution, I am not contributing all of this to Thumper, but enough to call his role extremely significant. The rest has come through this blog and my Twitter fun as I have met a few great people in person via that but, with a few more, I feel like I have just amazing friends out there who I am just waiting to meet someday. I get around so it will happen. I hope. It’s through all these eyes that mine have been opened more and more and when I sit back and think about where I am now, I can only think that it’s just a great “place” to be living my life.

With that, two things are on my mind this week: My switchiness and vaginas. Yes, I said vagina.

Since I am there, let’s start with a talk about vaginas and my new less adverse reaction to the idea of them. Now we all know the double gold star shit so I am not going through that again, but if you read Denying Thumper and this post, you know that last week I sat around with one very much confirmed bisexual man, you know, my boyfriend that I have sex with, and another heteroflexible man, who I am determined to become his new gay best friend (because every mostly straight guy should have one), listening to them go on and on and on about the wonderfulness of pussy and what they like to do to, with, and in them. This was an experience that was absolutely new to me and, the Drew from a year ago, would have mentally cupped his ears and sang something really gay like “I Will Survive” in his head over and over again until they stopped, but the new Drew didn’t. I listened. I questioned. I envisioned. And, in doing so, I realized I was no longer as pussy-phobic – which is fine, but that shit had to stop right there.

Fast forward a few days and I was in my hotel room doing my typical evening of multitasking which involves ironing, eating, baseball on the Apple TV, texting with those I adore, and either working, perving, or learning via my Macbook. This particular night was a pervy one, so I found myself Tumbling on Thumper’s portfolio and came across this picture that, well, rather excited me. My head was screaming at me like “WTF dude” while my dick, who at the time was safely locked away in a steel tube, was trying to rise to the occasion like he has just seen a troop of naked firemen walking through his bedroom. I did not know what to do because, as dumb as it might sound, in 45 years that had never happened. Not once. Sure I looked at the the Playboys hidden in the woods with my friends growing up, but what they didn’t know was I had found the one and only naked picture of a man in each magazine and had focused my energy there which allowed me to avoid speculation (though it was later pointed out that my lack of the use of the word “titties” was a significant clue for my best friend at the time). I was confused. I was perplexed. I was scared. So, like any good boyfriend would do, I immediately texted Thumper for comfort and words of support because clearly, clearly with this one image I was now bisexual or something and I would do nothing but scare Axel if I sent that filth to him.

Being his boyfriendly self, Thump immediately texted back with something soothing like “which picture was it?“, you know, like THAT was the crisis at hand here. I sent it to him and he came back with other supporting words like “that one will do it” and then tweeted all about my personal penile betrayal as he clearly didn’t understand how awful this arousal was for me. Admittedly, the tweets did turn to about how funny it would be to all the people who thought I was turning him gay if he turned me bisexual and, well, I have to admit that would be pretty funny, though, for the record, it hasn’t happened.

Once the shock was over and the nightmare averted, I started thinking that what this weirdness did was cause me to really take a hard look, pun intended, at the fact that, in the grand scheme of sexuality, it’s been a very foolish thing for me to have had such a closed mind about female sexuality and the, apparently, beautiful things women can do with their lady parts. I admit to now having a much greater curiosity about what it would be like to have sex with a woman and, while I still have zero interest in doing so, I have to tell you that I think I would be awful at it even if I got past my initial squee’d out reaction. I say this based purely on my sexual interactions with Thumper and how we go about things. He is gentle, kind, and has a light touch that I have never felt with another man which usually causes me to say “harder, faster, rougher” leaving him saying something like “that’s just what I am used to”. For me, when I am doing something as simple as rubbing his shoulders or legs, I look over to see a contorted face of pain because I am squeezing the living hell out of him which is how I have always done it with every man I have been with and, apparently, this is not how Belle does it. Even an act as simple as kissing has a difference as he has taught me how to be lighter, better, and more gentle which is one of several things Axel appreciates me doing differently throughout the past year.

While what I have described above sounds like it’s a bad blooper reel of gay sex gone wrong, it’s not like that at all in the reality and you have read those posts to prove that. But, it does show give he and I have a chance that many don’t, which is to be able to take very intimate look into the other side of sexuality and the inner workings of things like touch, taste, time and learn from it to make us each better partners to our primaries. For me, I have been wasting that view by immediately moving it to the weird place in my mind that blocked such thoughts or images and I am going to stop that and allow myself to learn and grow for me and the two who I have the privilege of seeing naked often.

So, that’s it for the vaginas part and it went longer than I expected, so I have decided to do a follow up post later today about my new switch revelations and how that has almost completely evolved from where I started, especially as Axel now takes a bit more control of the penis I carry around.

This Gay Man’s Guide to Bisexuals

Adding to my lists of first the last few months, I’m now sitting here writing my thoughts on bisexuality. Gay man style.

So, it’s no secret I have a bisexual man in my life these days. When we met, I remember thinking something like “Oh cool, he can see me naked and his wife naked and be happy all the time – neat” or something equally silly. In fact, I actually remember one point in my life wishing I could identify as bisexual because, that way, I could hide “the gay”, marry a bisexual woman and the world would be wonderful while I lived with my wife in the big house with the white picket fence. Of course, said house had a gate to my boyfriend’s fabulous house on the right with the BMW in the driveway and another gate to the very practical house on the left with the Subaru in the driveway where my wife’s girlfriend lived. You know, typical suburban bliss. However, I grew up – as did my thinking.

Now, thirty years or so later I really never thought about bisexuality much except for my pure hatred of the term “bi-guy”. They were just simply “those people” who, in my mind, had somewhat of a choice in who they went to, but not in the fact that they were attracted to them.

That thinking changed almost immediately after I met Thumper because we both had that question “could you fall in love outside of your marriage” thrown at us by our spouses, friends – both online and actual, and in our own heads too. It was a natural curiosity for all and is something that happens sometimes and it really opened my eyes to start thinking. For us, the answer simply was no, because that is not how he is wired. A relationship could exist, but not one that would ever threaten either spouse because, the way I see it is, his level of bisexuality is purely about the sexual attraction and not about the “need” that I, as a gay man, have of wanting to deeply nest with another man who I also have sex with while we build a family together. He has those nesting feelings, but his are and forever will be for a woman.

As a side note, I want to make sure I clarify that a need for friendship with a man is outside either sexual parameter and was something we evidently both needed. It’s like one is the cake and is one the icing as they can both exist on their own or blend nicely together when the time is right. One is sticky. One is sweet. Oh the metaphoric journey I could go on with this, but I won’t.

I note that I know most of you already know that story, but that happened months ago and is now a non-issue with the four people involved, however I brought it up though to introduce why I have been thinking so much about this lately. As I have been attacked by a few of the Amy’s of the world, I have thought more and more about the level of unfairness everywhere. Now, some of you may disagree, but I one hundred percent believe that sexuality comes from your genes and nowhere else. I used to joke with a few of my really, really effeminate gay male friends that they “got more of the gene” than I did, but now I wonder if it really was a joke as I have met bisexuals who really do feel like they could nest with either gender. Did they get more sparkly embryonic fluid than Thumper did? Who knows. One day, when science justifies my feelings of gay by birth without question, I hope they get right to that next question.

But, here is where I want to stand up for the bisexual men and women because, I never really realized that it has to be as hard, or even harder, for you to “come out” to yourselves and others as it was for me and I apologize for being so flippant about it in my youth. A thought I have had of late is that once I was out it was, in some ways, over. I married a man, started a family, grew my life and, aside from those random professional questions of “what does you wife do?” or “what is your wife’s name?” I don’t think about it that much (as a side note, I used to get the “why don’t you and your wife have kids?” question so often that I developed the ability to get a tear in my eye when I answered about how “we tried and tried but medically it just could not happen”. I miss that question).

Anyway, there is a general lack of respect for the bisexuals and I want to do my part to change that, some how, some way. As a for instance, I told my best friend about Thumper. Yes, that involved me telling him about the open marriage thing first but I luckily didn’t have to also come out to him as “straight – but only once a month or so”. That sucks for the “bi-guy” (I disgust myself even typing it). In addition to that, I suspect many have to deal with the unjustified feelings that others may have that they “just didn’t have the courage to be all the way gay” or that they may love their opposite sex partner but not lust after them the way they would for a same sex one. That is complete bullshit because I can see a look in Thumper’s eye when he mentions Belle’s name that just shows how much he WANTS her in every way possible and how much she completes him. I also see that same look in the eye of a female friend who is bisexual but married to a man. I kid you not, I hope and pray that Axel makes those eyes when my name is discussed because we all deserve that and for anyone to even think that they made a choice of love over lust is stupid (noting that I recognize many people, gay, straight and sideways do “settle” in some way, but that’s not today’s topic).

Another myth I debunked for myself is that being bisexual and bi-curious is the same thing. I know many people who have tried sex with the same gender just to scratch a little itch and then never went back because that one tryst was all the benedryl they needed. Frankly, one day I may do it simply so I have the experience, but, for the record, only with someone who was completely in the know. For the truly bisexual, the itch doesn’t go away and for those who don’t have the courage or ability to admit it to their partners, I am sad for them.

But even for those who do admit it to either themselves for their partner, finding that right person to “help scratch” has to be hard (even for the ones who don’t have penises encased in steel) because, well, it’s a pretty unique niche and the Grindr’s and Scruff’s of the world don’t have those categories.

I have rambled here, I know, and I am sure by this point you are all expecting Sally Struthers to pop into the post to ask you to give money for the “sexually starved bisexuals”, but she’s not. I am, I guess, just asking everyone to be more aware (as I have been proven wrong before in thinking that anyone reading this would already be aware) and to always think as broad as possible as we go about our lives representing our kinks and our sexualities.

However, since I did mention Sally, I guess I should close with something like, “if you could just lend one bisexual man your penis for just one day, you could save a marriage. Won’t you just think about it?”