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.

A Double Gold Star Gay + A Vagina = A Turkey and Rocket Sandwich

I am a Double Gold Star Gay.  At least, according to the Urban Dictionary.

What that means is that 44 something years ago, I was a large baby and, even in-womb, I didn’t quite fit in, so I was delivered by c-section.  And, as I might have said in previous posts, I have never even been within five feet of a naked woman.  Add those two together and by technical standards, I’ve never touched a vagina – having never come out of one and having certainly not going back in.

So, by definition, that makes me a Double Gold Star Gay, or DGSG as we, the exclusive, like to be called.

Now, why does this matter?  Well, it really doesn’t, but it’s a great way to start a post as, today, out of the blue, I decided I wanted to blog about vaginas. The V word.  The scary, scary V word we DGSG’s have run from our whole lives- literally since before birth.

You see, ever since I met the benevolent bisexual bunny, I have had a newfound outlet for questions about those lady parts unknown and what one actually does with them.  Through the years, my friends have all been drawn to them.  Thumper seems excited about them when he writes about “the moistness” and “going in and out, and in and out” (eww).  People even sing songs about them, as I realized horribly as an 11 year old boy singing “Sugar Walls” out loud in the car one day with my grandmother driving.

I have been pussy challenged.  I admit that.  However, being the inquisitive boyfriend on the side I am and seeing how that place below was of such interest,  I decided weeks ago that I wanted to know more.

Thumper has been a wonderful teacher – he often sends me pictures, diagrams, and the occasional video clip.

In return, I randomly ask him questions about where one might grab, what’s inside, and why one of these things does not look like the other.  And, on a few occasions, I have had to fight my natural urge to vomit when he describes smells, textures, and why one should think “oysters”, but, like a good DGSG with a mission and a designer shirt not wanting to be tainted, I have held down my lunch like a big boy and opened my mind to that dark, moist place.

Why this post?  Who the fuck knows.

But, today was a good day.  In fact, it wound up being one of the best professional days I have had in months as the stars aligned and the corporate return on the investment in me was realized in a grand way.  However, during the middle of being accoladed for the work I have done, my mind suddenly started thinking about sex – straight sex.  Holy fuck. Like man on woman sex.  There were even breasts. That has never happened.  Ever. And, yes, I do blame the bunny 110 percent. It’s all his fault.

So,instead of enjoying my moment, I started giggling to myself about how weird life is and how wide my eyes have been opened by this relationship in ways I never dreamed – or even fucking wanted to dream about.  For fucks, sake, yesterday I even reviewed a book about Female/male domination on Amazon that I had bought AND read (fyi, it’s a great collaboration of erotic stories by the lovely Ferns – buy it, ’cause it’s good enough, even for gay men’). What is happening?

I have to tell you, for years, Axel has known how to make me leave a room just by simply using some of the words I have already listed above describing his high school encounters.  And, now, I am writing a post about the P word I couldn’t even say six months ago? Life. Is. Weird.

Are people going to start calling me, bi, or even worse, straight?  I cannot handle another duality in life.  I just can’t. And I won’t.  Thumper will not convert me, despite the fact that Twitter promised him a toaster.  He does not need toast that badly.

However, the sweet spot of this post and my inter-head pussy related riot today, is that I realized I have been a bit one sided in my sexual thinking, all my life – although my DGSG card does allow that, fyi – and I am very happy to be breaking out of the exclusivity of male genitalia – at least in my head, because it’s going to make me better in how I relate to the world, to women, and those straight men who fuck them.

It’s still weird but there are so many, many questions (no volunteers, one rabbit teaching is enough for me)

Who knows, one day I may even see one in person.

From across the room.

Hopefully (on the across the room part).

In other news, I bought new jeans today, had a great chat with Axel, Thumper, and my Mom, and had a turkey and rocket sandwich on sourdough for lunch.  Fuck, those things seem as related to this post and my blog as me talking about vaginas, so I thought I’d add them too.

Until tomorrow…

P.S. – after all that, the least I can do is show you the jeans (I ate the sandwich)

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