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[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]In my first decade as a card-carrying, pussy eating, cock sucking bisexual, life was good and sex was beyond what I thought it could be. It wasn't until I turned 21 or so when things would often fall apart and sex with men started being complicated and troublesome.

It's one hell of a wakeup call to learn that while there were plenty of guys who wanted to suck/fuck but were being shady about it, telling you one thing then doing something else or just flat-out making whatever sex was happening anything other than fun and satisfying.

I don't know how many times I've been subjected to another man's lust and as it happened, I was kicking my ass and wondering why I thought it was a good idea to have sex with this guy. There's nothing worse than lying beneath a guy, he's hammering away at your ass, calling you all kinds of bitches and sluts and all you have on your mind is a fervent and, often, desperate wish that he'd hurry up and cum so all of this could be over with. Or you're using every cock sucking trick you've ever learned and the dude you're sucking ain't getting hard or, after twenty minutes of hard work, ain't even close to busting a nut.

Then he tells you that it's your fault that he couldn't get hard or couldn't cum even though he turns right around and confesses to, say, jerking off two or three times before you hooked up with him which pretty much guaranteed that whatever you were trying to accomplish wasn't gonna happen.

Yeah... you find out in a damned hurry why women are so funny about having sex. It's not that I found myself in a lot of these situations; you also learn a hard truth that at some point, it'll happen; it's what you do after the fact and the hardest thing to do is deciding whether or not you want to keep being bisexual or just walk away from it. I hit that spot in my life and was ready to walk away; I felt disillusioned and, worse, used and so dirty that no amount of soap and water would be capable of making me feel clean again.

Then I decided that I shouldn't and wasn't going to let such assholes steal my joy in this. It also made me pay much more attention to the way men can be and while not all guys are assholes when their dicks get hard, a lot of them are and especially those guys who's sole purpose of having sex with other guys is to humiliate and demean them in order to give their own sense of manliness a boost... and because they're really less of a man than you are and the only way for them to justify their sense of being a man is to make you feel less than a man.[/SIZE][/FONT]

Been busy the last couple days and not able to service the wife, and she asked me if she could call my buddy Aaron to come over, I said you don’t need my permission. But I must admit my dick got hard knowing she was about to get pounded by his massive black dick. Since I am on the road traveling for work, I said u see one condition, I am in my room, when he gets there call me and I want to hear both of you telling my what you are doing.

She he called me just as he pulled in the driveway and she answered the door wearing her favorite t shirt and nothing else. She told him I was going to listen in and he said cool man enjoy the show. She undress him and exposed a massive hardon, he said she is swallowing my cock, she loves my dark meat, me I am sitting there with a raging hardon visualizing her sucking his dick, she said he pulled me out off his dick and is bending me over here in the kitchen, load moans I hear and the sound of skin slapping together. I just picked her up and carrying her to bed with my dick in her, again moaning is all I hear.

He he said she is on her belly and he is standing giving her the meat, he is heard saying yea bitch, squirt on my dick. I could hear her say slow down I need to breath he said shut up and take that dick. He said bro your bed is all fucked up, she done squirted all over. By now I had already cum on my chest as he worked her hungry pussy. After another 15 minutes she kept saying please cum, I can’t take no more, and he let loose his load.

Funny how how we all get off in different ways, today was unique but definitely a 1st.

[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]When I introduced my girlfriend’s son to dick, damn, it was good to be with someone who was so eager to learn and we really clicked and to the point where I needed him to fuck me and when he did, it was glorious until it turned out he was more bottom than top and him sucking me wasn’t something he could get his had around so after sucking his balls dry, his way of making up for not returning the favor was insisting that I fuck him, something he told me he preferred over fucking me.

That he refused to bone me again was bothersome; I wasn’t in love with him but we were very close but, yeah, I had to admit that I really did enjoy sliding my dick into his ass and the way he cling to me when it was missionary and telling me how good it felt having me inside him and, being honest, I loved looking between us and seeing myself buried deep inside him.

Being with him got rid of my mental block. I don’t always fuck/get fucked but I know I can pick my moments and they’ll be fun, just like it was when growing up with this.[/SIZE][/FONT]

[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]Too many times after swearing off anal sex I’d find myself under some guy and filled with his dick, knowing it felt good to be there but not liking the fact that I was there and just enduring things. Too many times I found myself breaking my promise and stuffing myself into a very willing butt, knowing that this was what would really get me off but, again, hating myself that this was the only solution.

I did see that picking my moments for this, to fuck and be fucked, was all about being with the right guy in the right moment; I had to make myself agree that when I wanted to feel a hard dick pulsing away inside me, well, that’s what I needed and to deny myself didn’t make sense - it could be fun again when it needed to be fun.

Too many times a guy would be sucking me and it was so good and I’d hear myself say, “Fuck me...” when we agreed not to fuck. One time I’d been with a very gay dude and our first time was very good as we sucked each other off and agreed to meet again but that next time was so different. I’d sucked him off fairly quickly and settled in to enjoy his mouth on me and it was good... but not so much and I found myself pulling away from him, literally throwing him onto his back, and ramming my dick into him which, later, he said he loved despite it being unexpected.

But I was still pissed with myself about it and kept searching for the source of my anger.[/SIZE][/FONT]

[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]I’ve sucked more dick and have been fucked more than most women I know but after my experience with a guy with the biggest cock I’d ever seen and had, I lost interest in anal sex. For the longest time, I blamed this on Mr. Biggest Dick Ever until I re-examined my time with him and saw that, really, he didn’t do anything to turn that part of me off.

It took me decades to figure out that getting dicked as a matter of course or habit just stopped being fun for me and I had, stupidly, felt there was no need to be fucked and, in turn, no need for me to slide my dick into some guy’s butt.

Yet, there were, let’s say, too many times when cock would meet ass because it had to and I understood this... but didn’t like it, even when every fiber of my being was screaming for a guy to fuck me or there would be a guy doing his best to get me off like that and it wasn't happening and, no, it wasn’t him - it was me being silly and denying myself a pleasure I knew I needed.[/SIZE][/FONT]

[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]I couldn't deny that I loved having sex with men and my live-in lover actually got on my nerves at one point with how much he wanted sex from me but I chilled that attitude because when you're in love, having tons of sex is just part of the deal... but it didn't help me answer the question and a question that I felt was taking me way too long to answer.

It wasn't until one night I was dick deep in my wife when I realized that, duh, if I were gay, would I really be enjoying filling her with dick? I remember busting a nut in her, pulling out, and going back down on her, tasting my own spunk as it flowed out of her when the voice that asked the question spoke up and said, "Um, no, you're not gay at all!"

It had taken me almost two years to answer the question and I was quite pissed with myself because had I been paying attention to what I was doing more than I was worrying about the "Am I really gay?" question, I could have answered it and as soon as the question was asked since, um, I had just finished fucking my wife and had a grand time doing it.

But it did make me pay more attention to what I was doing and why. One night, we invited my lover to our bed because, for one, we both loved him and, two, we both thought it was strange that a gay man wanted to know what pussy tasted like and, according to my wife, he didn't do bad going down on her and even he admitted that she, as a woman, wasn't a slouch when it came to sucking dick. At one point during this grand experiment, I was deep inside her and sucking my lover's cock and noticed what I was doing and, importantly, how he was clinging to her and even fondling her boobs and my mind said, "See, if you were really gay, you wouldn't be enjoying any of this, would you?"

Later, while she slept, my lover and I were up talking about this event and even he had wondered if he was as gay as he knew himself to be; he even said, "I can see why you like pussy so much! It's so different than what I've been used to!" But we both agreed that, no, I wasn't really gay any more than he was bi and it put the question to bed for good.

I just never figured out why it took my so long to question my real sexuality and why it took so long to answer it other than, as I said, not paying attention to what I was doing all along.[/SIZE][/FONT]

[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]I'd been throwing it down with boys/men and girls/women so much that it never dawned on me to question my sexuality and more so after an early trip to the public library taught me the word, "bisexual" and had me saying to myself, "So that's what I've been doing!"

But when I was 20 - and after back to back to back days of running into guys who wanted to suck, fuck, or both, I'd just finished screwing the daylights out my wife and as she lay there dozing, a voice in my head asked, "Hey, are you gay?"

The question had never crossed my mind before so it hit me pretty hard; it made me backtrack a lot of years and look at my sexual behavior closely and in ways I'd never done before... and I was very bothered by what I saw in my memories and, in particular, how stupidly easy it was for a guy to get me to have sex with him and, as I've shared, all a guy had to do was pull his dick out and look at me and I'd be all over it. Ask me if I wanted to do it and the answer was always, "Yeah!" and even if, after the fact, I was asking myself if it was that great an idea to do it with this guy.

The question plagued me, distracted me as I searched for a definitive answer... but not paying one bit of attention to the fact that since my wife and I had given each other permission to do things with other people, I was really getting "more than my fair share" of cunt and cock and just as I'd been doing all along.

Then I fell in love with a guy and it was magical and so very intense... and the question burned a hole in my mind even though I found myself doing double duty, making love with him and my wife damn near every day and that didn't really include those days when my love and lover would pounce on me to suck my dick and just because he knew I'd want it and he could do it.[/SIZE][/FONT]

[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]In the morning, wow, he got up and I was also awake and didn't miss the confused look on his face or the fact that he did a double take or two or three looking at me. I faked like I was just waking up and spoke to him as if nothing had happened and enjoying the look on his face that was telling me that he knew something had happened - he just didn't know if it was real or imagined.

And I was still pissed off enough that I wasn't gonna say a word even if he asked. All during getting washed and dressed and him fixing breakfast, he's looking at me as if trying to figure out if I had done what he was thinking I may have done, like he somehow knew he had gotten sucked off but, again, couldn't figure out if he had been dreaming or not... and I sat there looking as innocent as anyone could be. I could tell he wanted to ask me something and I was sitting there deciding to confess to the deed... or to act like I had no idea what he was talking about. He never asked, though and I knew it was fucking with him to not know or be able to confirm whether he had been dreaming...

Or that his oldest boy had sucked his dick and made him cum. To be honest, I think he eventually figured it out; I'd run into him in my travels around the city and he always looked like he wanted to ask me something about that night but he never did ask. A lot of years later, I did ask him, you know, just being "curious," why he said what he said that night and, at first, he acted like he didn't remember what he said - but I knew that he did but he eventually said that he wanted to assure me that he didn't have any homosexual thoughts about me or make me feel uncomfortable about sleeping in the same bed with him.

I just said, "Oh, okay, Dad - see ya later, okay?" I started to tell him what I'd done and why I did it - well, as much as I understood it but I didn't. He knew what I'd done that night; he was a drunkard but he wasn't a stupid man and I knew he'd figure it out but it was now a matter of whether or not he was ever going to say anything to me about it. But I got to taste the sperm that made me, the ultimate of tastes...[/SIZE][/FONT]