I've always had this turn on about a smoking hot looking woman who turns out to have a big dick between her legs. According to Dan Savage, that is a total straight guy fantasy, not one the gays enjoy. Who knows?
Anyway, this past weekend my wife and I went to grab a burger at one of our favorite downtown burger places near San Antonio College. It is called Luther's. We like the food and the atmosphere, and oh by the way, it is a very gay friendly place with most of the staff being queer (the broad term to describe the range of GBLTand whatever other letters).
We sat at the bar and enjoyed chatting with a family who had their gay son working behind the bar. Nice folks. Anyway, there was one waitress who had an interesting shape to her. A really huge rack made from fake boobs but her jeans worked well. I only saw her from the side and from behind the first few times but even then, I was sure it was a man, probably pre-op. I suspect that she can look really good when all dolled up (like most women), but on this day, she was not at her best.
This is the problem with my she-male fantasy. When I can see that she needs to shave, I'd just as soon it be a pretty guy. Does that make sense? And, though her cleavage was ample, having the third nipple made of a huge boil or a pimple of some sort was just not the turn on I was looking for. I honestly felt guilty for judging her looks as I sat there and stuffed a half-pound burger down my throat, because let's face it, I'm no pin-up model myself.
Anyway, I think for now, I'll stick to the airbrushed pictures of she-males I find on the Internet.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
On the Verge of Stupidity...
As much as I am a voyeur, I have learned over the years that at least mentally, I am an exhibitionist. I have always been so secretive about my sexual side that when I find an opportunity to open up with someone - readers of this blog for instance - I am truthful and forthcoming about things. As most bloggers say, it is therapeutic. Even more exciting is when I am able to open up to a person I know.
Sharing details of my life with Pancho (who reads here when he isn't busy in Afghanistan) and Rooster (he and I haven't chatted or seen one another in a while), or my old neighbor, Sandy Game, (who has politely excused herself from our sexual conversations), has been a real thrill. When you are confessing the intimate details of your life to someone you actually know, there is this rush of adrenaline that comes over. It can't be much different than the rush a pervert in the park gets when he opens up his rain coat to reveal a dangling wiener to unsuspecting passersby.
Of course, once you have shared the full details - the being bi, the threesomes, the thoughts that go along with all of it, and there isn't much more to expose, that adrenaline dies down and either there has to be a new detail to share or there has to be another willing acquaintance you can share with.
I haven't written much about Co-Worker A recently. The relationship I helped him facilitate with the smoking hot lady at work fizzled a bit and he has been depressed. But he and I continue to talk, sometimes serious, but most of the time it is good natured sex talk. He confessed to me about a dream he had where he was sitting in his car with a black man and they were stroking one another's cocks. I told him his racist dream was him projecting in his mind that I have a huge wiener and he wants to stroke me.
He also told me about this project he is starting. He purchased one of these penis extender things. The man is a scientist and he actually researches things. Given those two facts, you have to wonder why he would waste his money, but he claims that this penile extender may increase his length by 1.5 inches or some such nonsense. This is not the verge of stupidity I refer to in the blog title.
He wants to publish his proof. He knows I have a blog. I get this intense mental turn on of confessing my most intimate details to people I know, plus, I have made no secret of the fact that I want to see his dick. Problem solved. I can use this blog to post pictures of Co-Worker A's dick as he begins this experiment and of course, you readers will get to see why it would be a waste of your money to purchase one of these devices.
There is always a fear that someone will find your sex blog and share it with people you know but don't want to read it. That is why I am on the verge of stupidity. If I share with Co-Worker A and he inadvertently blabs to some of the other people we work with, there could be some embarrassment.
I have shared details of my life with co-workers in the past. Their have been rumors in the past. I have always been able to somehow make them fade away. But if the blog link gets out to my colleagues at work, the only recourse is to remove it before they can print it, and simply deny it. By posting pictures of Co-Worker A wearing a wiener extender, I think he will be safe to share with.
Does anyone want to talk me out of this?
Sharing details of my life with Pancho (who reads here when he isn't busy in Afghanistan) and Rooster (he and I haven't chatted or seen one another in a while), or my old neighbor, Sandy Game, (who has politely excused herself from our sexual conversations), has been a real thrill. When you are confessing the intimate details of your life to someone you actually know, there is this rush of adrenaline that comes over. It can't be much different than the rush a pervert in the park gets when he opens up his rain coat to reveal a dangling wiener to unsuspecting passersby.
Of course, once you have shared the full details - the being bi, the threesomes, the thoughts that go along with all of it, and there isn't much more to expose, that adrenaline dies down and either there has to be a new detail to share or there has to be another willing acquaintance you can share with.
I haven't written much about Co-Worker A recently. The relationship I helped him facilitate with the smoking hot lady at work fizzled a bit and he has been depressed. But he and I continue to talk, sometimes serious, but most of the time it is good natured sex talk. He confessed to me about a dream he had where he was sitting in his car with a black man and they were stroking one another's cocks. I told him his racist dream was him projecting in his mind that I have a huge wiener and he wants to stroke me.
He also told me about this project he is starting. He purchased one of these penis extender things. The man is a scientist and he actually researches things. Given those two facts, you have to wonder why he would waste his money, but he claims that this penile extender may increase his length by 1.5 inches or some such nonsense. This is not the verge of stupidity I refer to in the blog title.
He wants to publish his proof. He knows I have a blog. I get this intense mental turn on of confessing my most intimate details to people I know, plus, I have made no secret of the fact that I want to see his dick. Problem solved. I can use this blog to post pictures of Co-Worker A's dick as he begins this experiment and of course, you readers will get to see why it would be a waste of your money to purchase one of these devices.
There is always a fear that someone will find your sex blog and share it with people you know but don't want to read it. That is why I am on the verge of stupidity. If I share with Co-Worker A and he inadvertently blabs to some of the other people we work with, there could be some embarrassment.
I have shared details of my life with co-workers in the past. Their have been rumors in the past. I have always been able to somehow make them fade away. But if the blog link gets out to my colleagues at work, the only recourse is to remove it before they can print it, and simply deny it. By posting pictures of Co-Worker A wearing a wiener extender, I think he will be safe to share with.
Does anyone want to talk me out of this?
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Missed Connections...
My niece posted a note on my FB wall last night regarding an ad she saw on Craig's List - Missed Connections. It was a M4M with one guy identifying the other by a very specific hobby that I enjoy. It was a joke of course, and I played along with it in my response.
My wife on the other hand who did not catch the M4M part and the fact that it was posted on Facebook as a joke seriously reacted like my niece had uncovered some woman trying to seduce me via the Internet. It was actually really funny and when I had to pull her off the ceiling, and point out that a) it wasn't me, and b) it wasn't from some woman trying to hit on me, but rather a man, she began to calm down. And then of course, she said, "Maybe I still should be worried!"
We all got a good laugh out of it. Of course, now I will have to be careful if I ever post any Missed Connections on Craig's List. My niece is watching, and now maybe my wife will be!
My wife on the other hand who did not catch the M4M part and the fact that it was posted on Facebook as a joke seriously reacted like my niece had uncovered some woman trying to seduce me via the Internet. It was actually really funny and when I had to pull her off the ceiling, and point out that a) it wasn't me, and b) it wasn't from some woman trying to hit on me, but rather a man, she began to calm down. And then of course, she said, "Maybe I still should be worried!"
We all got a good laugh out of it. Of course, now I will have to be careful if I ever post any Missed Connections on Craig's List. My niece is watching, and now maybe my wife will be!
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Another Podcast: Lifestyle Life...
As I have given up on listening to radio on my daily drive to and from work, I am totally unaware of the latest turmoil that Mr. Limbaugh has found himself in. Instead, I have spent my alone time with fellow travelers listening to the sexual ramblings of Savage Love, J.V. Altharas, and my latest find, courtesy of a tip from Walk and Roll, is a podcast from a couple near Austin, TX called Lifestyle Life. I have only just started the 4th episode, but I am really enjoying the conversation between Barefeatz and his wife Danisapphire.
So, my wife and I are not swingers. We have never been to a club or one of these nude resorts where people playfully flirt and then couples end up with other couples. Our only participation in "the lifestyle" has been the Hotwife thing where basically, we engaged in threesomes with other guys. And, we've only done it with friends/co-workers of ours. The idea of putting out an ad looking for others to play or actually going to a club designated as a swingers place is just not something we have ever considered. So the question is, why would I bother downloading and listening to a podcast about the swinger lifestyle?
Curiosity for one. What I have found so far though, is that this is more than just a couple telling dirty stories about sex they had. In fact, aside from the subject, this is almost a PG-13 discussion on how a couple stuck in 15 years of raising kids and living a purely vanilla life suddenly realized they might be interested in trying swinging. Instead of jumping right into it, they did a lot of research and in the process, they found that the love and friendship they had for one another become that much stronger. I am honestly envious of the relationship these two have and how they come across as a fun and loving couple. Of course, the voyeur in me is eager for the episodes to get to some of the detail of the actual sex, but in reality, this podcast would be a huge public service to those people contemplating entering the lifestyle. Barefeatz and Danisapphire give really informative details on how they got started and some of the administrative things involved. I say administrative to mean, the parts that don't actually involve sex, but the kind of details that make people nervous when they are starting something new. In the podcast about their first trip to BBB on Lake Travis in Austin, they gave great detail on how they were able to navigate through the sign-up process, get connected with folks on a party barge and important details on sunscreen and what you should bring.
If you are looking for detailed accounts of how a couple engaged in wild sex acts, this is probably not the detail you are looking for. But if you'd be interested in listening to what appear to be a normal, sane, average couple talking about how this lifestyle has transformed their otherwise vanilla marriage, you ought to give Lifestyle Life podcast a try.
So, my wife and I are not swingers. We have never been to a club or one of these nude resorts where people playfully flirt and then couples end up with other couples. Our only participation in "the lifestyle" has been the Hotwife thing where basically, we engaged in threesomes with other guys. And, we've only done it with friends/co-workers of ours. The idea of putting out an ad looking for others to play or actually going to a club designated as a swingers place is just not something we have ever considered. So the question is, why would I bother downloading and listening to a podcast about the swinger lifestyle?
Curiosity for one. What I have found so far though, is that this is more than just a couple telling dirty stories about sex they had. In fact, aside from the subject, this is almost a PG-13 discussion on how a couple stuck in 15 years of raising kids and living a purely vanilla life suddenly realized they might be interested in trying swinging. Instead of jumping right into it, they did a lot of research and in the process, they found that the love and friendship they had for one another become that much stronger. I am honestly envious of the relationship these two have and how they come across as a fun and loving couple. Of course, the voyeur in me is eager for the episodes to get to some of the detail of the actual sex, but in reality, this podcast would be a huge public service to those people contemplating entering the lifestyle. Barefeatz and Danisapphire give really informative details on how they got started and some of the administrative things involved. I say administrative to mean, the parts that don't actually involve sex, but the kind of details that make people nervous when they are starting something new. In the podcast about their first trip to BBB on Lake Travis in Austin, they gave great detail on how they were able to navigate through the sign-up process, get connected with folks on a party barge and important details on sunscreen and what you should bring.
If you are looking for detailed accounts of how a couple engaged in wild sex acts, this is probably not the detail you are looking for. But if you'd be interested in listening to what appear to be a normal, sane, average couple talking about how this lifestyle has transformed their otherwise vanilla marriage, you ought to give Lifestyle Life podcast a try.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Recurring Dreams... (Part 3)
If you are just picking it up here, you may wish to go back and read Part 1 of this long winded story, as well as Part 2.
When you have been married for as long as we have, people who meet you just assume that your marriage must have been built on a solid foundation of love and friendship and common interests. The reality is, there have been times in my life that I felt like a hostage in this relationship.
Our courtship was very brief. In fact from the time I met her to the time we were married was easily under 3 or 4 months. Initially, there was some sort of spark. Here was an attractive girl who was definitely in to me, enough so that she had called off an engagement and in fact was putting her relationship with her family in jeopardy (so I was to understand) to be with me. There was nothing spectacular to report about our sex life, but given the fact that I had not had any regular pattern of sex since high school, it was good enough for me. We began talking marriage.
I was really insistent on meeting her parents. It was just something I felt was the right thing to do. I was a good guy with a steady job (two jobs in fact) and I felt like I could convince her parents that things would be okay. I had talked with my parents a lot and told them I was talking marriage and my mother told me over and over that I needed to meet the family. I agreed. She refused repeatedly.
As much as this woman filled the fantasy of the someone in need who I could scoop up like a knight in shining armor, it was becoming obvious that the entire relationship was entirely too weird. I recall making up my mind to meet her on a Sunday night and break it off. I would break-up, quit the part time job and be done. It was all just too much.
That Sunday night as I began the break-up conversation, she pulled a fast one on me. She said she wanted to get married tomorrow, or it was over. Problem solved, right?
On Monday, we went and got our marriage license, and on Tuesday, I took a day of leave from work and we got married by a local judge. We had dinner with another couple the local Steak & Ale, off to my dorm for a quick consummation of the marriage and on our wedding night, she slept at her parents house as if nothing had ever happened.
I knew from the word go that this was not fitting the fantasy I had. In all honesty, I could not help comparing her to the girl from high school and how I had just made a huge mistake.
I do believe that there is more than one person for everyone. The idea that you find "the one" and if that doesn't work out, you will never find love again is just wrong. I'm not saying I'm for it, but I also believe that arranged marriages can work and I believe that if you are willing to give a little bit, you can have an enjoyable life with someone who may not be your idea of "the one". I firmly believe that you can love more than one person at a time. And I also believe that we were not meant to be monogamous, but in reality, it works for most of us. I only bring all of this up to make it very clear that, regardless of these recurring dreams I have about a girl from 30 years ago, I realize that my ability to find love and happiness was not lost forever the moment that my high school sweetheart was no longer available.
The fact that I am actually a Facebook friend with the old flame has helped me to see how our lives are so completely different now. Certainly, the same is true for all the friends I had in high school. I don't think it is so much a desire to go back in time and cancel every moment in time with my wife in favor of a do-over. Instead I suspect my dreams have something to do with the lack of intimacy in a relationship that I crave.
If people were to read what I have written, they might offer me the advice that life is too short, you should be happy and you should get out of this relationship. You should find the stripper and blow guys when you get the urge. That isn't the intimacy I crave. More importantly, in spite of the issues I do have with my wife, I simply have no intention of leaving her, ever. There are worse relationships, and at least we get along, spend time together and we have two wonderful children.
I have cut short on the details of our marriage and what some of the issues are. I've either addressed them in this blog before or I imagine I'll write about them another time. In the week that it took me to find enough alone time to write these three parts of the story, the depression lifted, the recurring dreams stopped (for the moment) and life goes on.
As for the high school girl, I have often wondered if instead of dreaming of telling her how hard it was for me to get over her and the number of years I have obsessed over it, if I should just tell her? I think the answer is an obvious "no". She is happily married, has her own life to live and how would it benefit either of us.
When you have been married for as long as we have, people who meet you just assume that your marriage must have been built on a solid foundation of love and friendship and common interests. The reality is, there have been times in my life that I felt like a hostage in this relationship.
Our courtship was very brief. In fact from the time I met her to the time we were married was easily under 3 or 4 months. Initially, there was some sort of spark. Here was an attractive girl who was definitely in to me, enough so that she had called off an engagement and in fact was putting her relationship with her family in jeopardy (so I was to understand) to be with me. There was nothing spectacular to report about our sex life, but given the fact that I had not had any regular pattern of sex since high school, it was good enough for me. We began talking marriage.
I was really insistent on meeting her parents. It was just something I felt was the right thing to do. I was a good guy with a steady job (two jobs in fact) and I felt like I could convince her parents that things would be okay. I had talked with my parents a lot and told them I was talking marriage and my mother told me over and over that I needed to meet the family. I agreed. She refused repeatedly.
As much as this woman filled the fantasy of the someone in need who I could scoop up like a knight in shining armor, it was becoming obvious that the entire relationship was entirely too weird. I recall making up my mind to meet her on a Sunday night and break it off. I would break-up, quit the part time job and be done. It was all just too much.
That Sunday night as I began the break-up conversation, she pulled a fast one on me. She said she wanted to get married tomorrow, or it was over. Problem solved, right?
On Monday, we went and got our marriage license, and on Tuesday, I took a day of leave from work and we got married by a local judge. We had dinner with another couple the local Steak & Ale, off to my dorm for a quick consummation of the marriage and on our wedding night, she slept at her parents house as if nothing had ever happened.
I knew from the word go that this was not fitting the fantasy I had. In all honesty, I could not help comparing her to the girl from high school and how I had just made a huge mistake.
I do believe that there is more than one person for everyone. The idea that you find "the one" and if that doesn't work out, you will never find love again is just wrong. I'm not saying I'm for it, but I also believe that arranged marriages can work and I believe that if you are willing to give a little bit, you can have an enjoyable life with someone who may not be your idea of "the one". I firmly believe that you can love more than one person at a time. And I also believe that we were not meant to be monogamous, but in reality, it works for most of us. I only bring all of this up to make it very clear that, regardless of these recurring dreams I have about a girl from 30 years ago, I realize that my ability to find love and happiness was not lost forever the moment that my high school sweetheart was no longer available.
The fact that I am actually a Facebook friend with the old flame has helped me to see how our lives are so completely different now. Certainly, the same is true for all the friends I had in high school. I don't think it is so much a desire to go back in time and cancel every moment in time with my wife in favor of a do-over. Instead I suspect my dreams have something to do with the lack of intimacy in a relationship that I crave.
If people were to read what I have written, they might offer me the advice that life is too short, you should be happy and you should get out of this relationship. You should find the stripper and blow guys when you get the urge. That isn't the intimacy I crave. More importantly, in spite of the issues I do have with my wife, I simply have no intention of leaving her, ever. There are worse relationships, and at least we get along, spend time together and we have two wonderful children.
I have cut short on the details of our marriage and what some of the issues are. I've either addressed them in this blog before or I imagine I'll write about them another time. In the week that it took me to find enough alone time to write these three parts of the story, the depression lifted, the recurring dreams stopped (for the moment) and life goes on.
As for the high school girl, I have often wondered if instead of dreaming of telling her how hard it was for me to get over her and the number of years I have obsessed over it, if I should just tell her? I think the answer is an obvious "no". She is happily married, has her own life to live and how would it benefit either of us.
Friday, February 24, 2012
Recurring Dreams... (Part 2)
In part one of this story, I yammered on about how a high school relationship that ended because of a family move caused me years of depression and an inability to develop meaningful relationships with women. I also threw in the twist that I was starting to wrap my mind around some of the sexual urges I had for years, but had never really understood. I fear that this could be a really long post or even go into a third installment. I apologize in advance for those who take the time to read it, but honestly, I'm just trying to sort things out for myself, and writing it here is very therapeutic.
Before I move on to how I think I got to where I am now - and that is really my intent in writing this - I need to elaborate a little on these sexual urges. The Internet is full of blogs about married men who realize late in life they are gay or married women struggling with a husband who is a total closet case only to decide in the midst of a mid-life crisis that he could not suppress the urge to suck dick. I feel for both sides. I was listening to an older Dan Savage Lovecast the other day and he described closeted gay men who married and then could not offer their wives emotional and intimate closeness (not his exact words) as inflicting emotional violence upon the wife. I don't know that I qualify for that label, but this is the part of the story where in hindsight, I can look back and see many clues from childhood that might have revealed to me that I was at least bi. It wouldn't change the fact that I like women, but in a different time, I may have been more open about these urges I have felt toward other guys.
If I were 16 or 17 in today's society, would I have openly identified as bi? Would I have ever considered a dating relationship with another guy? Who knows? It was not something we talked about and in fact, the idea of being gay was not even a concept that I understood. I recognized men who were sissy's but I thought of them in terms of flamboyant actors like Charles Nelson Reilly or Elton John - who was married to a woman in those days. Was Paul Lynde gay? Of course he was, but it wasn't something ever publicly acknowledged by him or discussed on TV. Today, the youth feeling the same urges I did have so many resources to help them better understand their feelings, and while there is still more change to come, in most cases a confused kid can find someone to talk to or at least read a biography of any number of public figures and see that they are not the only person to ever feel the same feelings.
When I was with my high school girlfriend, most of the urges I felt had faded. Hell, I don't think I even jacked-off (another thing that used to be considered abnormal) during the time we were sexually active. We were so open and into exploring new things - we did anal, sixty-nine, sex while driving - and at some point we came up with the idea of me going down on her after I had cum. It had to have been my idea, but I don't recall. She was all for it and so was I, until I would cum. Like most men, I would lose the urge to do it once I had climaxed. That was when she started the game of forcibly sitting on my face as soon as I came. Was this just fun sex or was I subconsciously giving off clues?
Once in the military, I still did not fully understand how to express my feelings, but I know for a fact I loved showering in the gang showers. Over time, I had observed the dick of nearly every guy I worked with. I'm sure all guys casually check out other guys, but I used what I saw as masturbatory material. I did have one friend, an older guy (he was in his mid twenties) who used to mentor me quite a bit. There were so many times that I came close to revealing the urges that I had, but I just never found the words.
When I left my first overseas assignment on my way to Texas, I stopped at home for leave for a few weeks over Christmas. Driving around my home town was extremely depressing. Aside from the visual cues that brought old memories of the girl friend flooding back, I learned what a lot of people who join the military learn - you change a lot but your friends who stay behind don't. Of the few guys I came in contact from high school, it was as if we had nothing in common.
I somehow had resigned myself to being miserable and in fact, I had these first thoughts in mind about simply finding a homeless woman or a hooker to marry as a convenience. By being married, the military would allow me to move out of the dorms and increase my pay. I might be able to develop a friendship with a grateful women happy to not be living on the streets and perhaps we would occasionally have sex. It started out as a joke in my mind but the more I thought of it, I started adding in little details - the woman would not be homeless, definitely a hooker or at least a stripper. We would be friends and she would provide me all the details of her hi-jinks with other men. This was about the time in history when Penthouse Forum started publishing letters from men who dared to write in that there wife had had sex with another man while they watched. I'm sure there was some influence on my fantasy.
During my two day drive to Texas, I had this constant idea in my mind about meeting this special woman along the way, maybe at a truck stop or at a rest stop. It's funny, but just writing that makes me think of some creepy serial killer looking for his next victim. I assure you, my intentions were good.
When I made it to Texas - without a hitchhiker in my trunk - I got settled in and started work in my new assignment in the Air Force. It wasn't long before I was going out to clubs with a group of co-workers and looking for a little action and failing badly. I seriously had no skills especially given the fact that if a girl was agreeable to dancing or sharing a drink, I was likely to come across as some guy who was just looking to get laid. And I'm sure it didn't help that I was probably pretty drunk.
Not long after settling in, I took on a part time job and caught the eye of one of the managers. I don't want to get too deep into the specifics, but I had no idea initially that she was even attracted to me. I was pursuing her friend who also worked there (and who also had no interest in me). The reason why I seemed at ease with this manager was that she was engaged to be married. I didn't feel like I had to impress her or make any effort, and I was able to just be myself.
We spent a lot of time talking and shared some common interests but at first, there was nothing sexual, on my part anyway. When we went out for the first time, I really thought it was just two co-workers going out. I asked her all about her fiance and those sorts of things, and I could start to sense that she was losing interest in the idea of marrying him, and at the same time, beginning to show interest in me.
At first, I felt guilty and especially since her fiance was a guy in the Air Force, I felt like I was really betraying a fellow airman, whether I knew the guy or not. But I got over it. Once we had our first kiss, I basically told her she needed to make up her mind about what she was going to do.
Several months later, we were dating, and she was telling me that her parents were going to disown her and that she would be kicked out of the house for breaking off the engagement. I was suddenly finding this relationship falling into place, sort of the way I had imagined my stripper fantasy. Not that my wife was a stripper, but she was a woman in need. I remember buying her all these housewares and things telling her that I would help her get an apartment. I had never met her parents but the picture she painted was that they were these really strict, highly religious, conservative people and that me coming into her life, breaking up her engagement, etc., meant I would never be able to meet them. It was all so dramatic and as I would learn later, completely exaggerated and false.
I promise, I'll get to the point and wrap it up in part three...
Before I move on to how I think I got to where I am now - and that is really my intent in writing this - I need to elaborate a little on these sexual urges. The Internet is full of blogs about married men who realize late in life they are gay or married women struggling with a husband who is a total closet case only to decide in the midst of a mid-life crisis that he could not suppress the urge to suck dick. I feel for both sides. I was listening to an older Dan Savage Lovecast the other day and he described closeted gay men who married and then could not offer their wives emotional and intimate closeness (not his exact words) as inflicting emotional violence upon the wife. I don't know that I qualify for that label, but this is the part of the story where in hindsight, I can look back and see many clues from childhood that might have revealed to me that I was at least bi. It wouldn't change the fact that I like women, but in a different time, I may have been more open about these urges I have felt toward other guys.
If I were 16 or 17 in today's society, would I have openly identified as bi? Would I have ever considered a dating relationship with another guy? Who knows? It was not something we talked about and in fact, the idea of being gay was not even a concept that I understood. I recognized men who were sissy's but I thought of them in terms of flamboyant actors like Charles Nelson Reilly or Elton John - who was married to a woman in those days. Was Paul Lynde gay? Of course he was, but it wasn't something ever publicly acknowledged by him or discussed on TV. Today, the youth feeling the same urges I did have so many resources to help them better understand their feelings, and while there is still more change to come, in most cases a confused kid can find someone to talk to or at least read a biography of any number of public figures and see that they are not the only person to ever feel the same feelings.
When I was with my high school girlfriend, most of the urges I felt had faded. Hell, I don't think I even jacked-off (another thing that used to be considered abnormal) during the time we were sexually active. We were so open and into exploring new things - we did anal, sixty-nine, sex while driving - and at some point we came up with the idea of me going down on her after I had cum. It had to have been my idea, but I don't recall. She was all for it and so was I, until I would cum. Like most men, I would lose the urge to do it once I had climaxed. That was when she started the game of forcibly sitting on my face as soon as I came. Was this just fun sex or was I subconsciously giving off clues?
Once in the military, I still did not fully understand how to express my feelings, but I know for a fact I loved showering in the gang showers. Over time, I had observed the dick of nearly every guy I worked with. I'm sure all guys casually check out other guys, but I used what I saw as masturbatory material. I did have one friend, an older guy (he was in his mid twenties) who used to mentor me quite a bit. There were so many times that I came close to revealing the urges that I had, but I just never found the words.
When I left my first overseas assignment on my way to Texas, I stopped at home for leave for a few weeks over Christmas. Driving around my home town was extremely depressing. Aside from the visual cues that brought old memories of the girl friend flooding back, I learned what a lot of people who join the military learn - you change a lot but your friends who stay behind don't. Of the few guys I came in contact from high school, it was as if we had nothing in common.
I somehow had resigned myself to being miserable and in fact, I had these first thoughts in mind about simply finding a homeless woman or a hooker to marry as a convenience. By being married, the military would allow me to move out of the dorms and increase my pay. I might be able to develop a friendship with a grateful women happy to not be living on the streets and perhaps we would occasionally have sex. It started out as a joke in my mind but the more I thought of it, I started adding in little details - the woman would not be homeless, definitely a hooker or at least a stripper. We would be friends and she would provide me all the details of her hi-jinks with other men. This was about the time in history when Penthouse Forum started publishing letters from men who dared to write in that there wife had had sex with another man while they watched. I'm sure there was some influence on my fantasy.
During my two day drive to Texas, I had this constant idea in my mind about meeting this special woman along the way, maybe at a truck stop or at a rest stop. It's funny, but just writing that makes me think of some creepy serial killer looking for his next victim. I assure you, my intentions were good.
When I made it to Texas - without a hitchhiker in my trunk - I got settled in and started work in my new assignment in the Air Force. It wasn't long before I was going out to clubs with a group of co-workers and looking for a little action and failing badly. I seriously had no skills especially given the fact that if a girl was agreeable to dancing or sharing a drink, I was likely to come across as some guy who was just looking to get laid. And I'm sure it didn't help that I was probably pretty drunk.
Not long after settling in, I took on a part time job and caught the eye of one of the managers. I don't want to get too deep into the specifics, but I had no idea initially that she was even attracted to me. I was pursuing her friend who also worked there (and who also had no interest in me). The reason why I seemed at ease with this manager was that she was engaged to be married. I didn't feel like I had to impress her or make any effort, and I was able to just be myself.
We spent a lot of time talking and shared some common interests but at first, there was nothing sexual, on my part anyway. When we went out for the first time, I really thought it was just two co-workers going out. I asked her all about her fiance and those sorts of things, and I could start to sense that she was losing interest in the idea of marrying him, and at the same time, beginning to show interest in me.
At first, I felt guilty and especially since her fiance was a guy in the Air Force, I felt like I was really betraying a fellow airman, whether I knew the guy or not. But I got over it. Once we had our first kiss, I basically told her she needed to make up her mind about what she was going to do.
Several months later, we were dating, and she was telling me that her parents were going to disown her and that she would be kicked out of the house for breaking off the engagement. I was suddenly finding this relationship falling into place, sort of the way I had imagined my stripper fantasy. Not that my wife was a stripper, but she was a woman in need. I remember buying her all these housewares and things telling her that I would help her get an apartment. I had never met her parents but the picture she painted was that they were these really strict, highly religious, conservative people and that me coming into her life, breaking up her engagement, etc., meant I would never be able to meet them. It was all so dramatic and as I would learn later, completely exaggerated and false.
I promise, I'll get to the point and wrap it up in part three...
Monday, February 20, 2012
Recurring Dreams... (Part 1)
It has been close to thirty years since our relationship came to an end, brought on by her parents whisking her off to New England and her finding herself in a new environment which suddenly didn't require me. The friendship hung on for years via occasional letters, but at every step of the way, I fell further into some sort of depression, losing any ability to form a normal relationship with the other young ladies I might try to date. I was a mess and I'm not so sure she had a clue. I had at least one alcohol fueled mental breakdown of sorts that had friends of mine extremely concerned and thankfully smart enough to take my car keys away from me and get me home to sleep it off. Later, I spent hours and hours at a time, alone in my dorm room writing and re-writing a letter to my parents explaining that I just could not get over the painful break-up, and this was why I was taking my own life.
To this day (and including the last few nights) I often have dreams where as adults, she and I talk about this. Actually, in my dreams I want to talk about it, but every single time, I simply fall in love again, and as she tries to distract my attention with stories of her kids and questions about mine, I can't seem to get to the conversation of how she did more than break my heart, but she literally changed my life, and my ability to love.
So how did I get here? I have actually written about this girl a few times before in The Sound of a Voice, and Married and Bi. But I wanted to go a little deeper. And if you don't feel like reading the other posts, I tend to recap anyway.
For me, it was love at first sight. She was a friend of friends, a grade behind me in high school and I recall the first time I saw her sitting in the gym during some sort of freshman orientation. I told one of my buddies that I was going to fuck her and that she was going to be my girlfriend.
Our romance included a promise ring, matching T-shirts, incredibly fun times and lots, and lots of incredible sex. I think I've written about this before, but I am reminded of the scene in the movie Summer Rental where John Candy says to someone, "Do you know what it's like to peak at 16?" Well, I know that feeling. In spite of all of the freaky things I've done in my adult sex life, nothing will ever match the passion and feeling of something being so right the way that we did. We learned so much together, she was the first person I ever went down on and it even comes with a funny story that I'm sure would make her laugh if I mentioned it to her.
There was something in me that was just driving me to want to go down on her. It was a natural instinct, I believe, and her scent just drew me in. On two or three occasions, I would be kissing her stomach and moving my lips further down and then for some reason, I would chicken out. We did not discuss it, but she knew what I was trying to do. Finally, one evening we were parked in our usual spot at a Little League baseball complex and we were nude in the back seat when I found myself mentally prepared enough to make it happen. Not unlike the first time I tasted my own cum, I just took a deep breath and did it. I took the plunge and in an instant, my face was buried in her perfectly trimmed bush and just as quickly my face was back up and staring at her with a look of shock on my face. "I wish you had told me you were going to do that," she said shyly, "I would have told you I'm on my period." I guess you could say I almost earned my red wings that night, but we decided we could try oral another time.
And when we did, I must tell you with all honesty, it was wonderful. The actual intercourse for me was never the highlight of our lovemaking, it was going down on her. She produced so much fluid that when she would take a position on top of me, my face and neck and chest would be soaked in her juice. For the life of me, my parents had to have noticed when I would come home from a date because without a shower, there is no way I wasn't just wreaking of pussy.
There was more than just sex. She was funny and we would have goofy little conversations and we would hang out together just doing things. We would skip school and take off to the beach - she looked magnificent on a bathing suit - and we would talk about what life would be like, not if we got married, but when. As adults we all recognize that people in high school often have that first real love and from our standpoint, we can look back at our own lives and see that in spite of how perfect a fit at the time, people grow differently and often, those relationships don't last beyond a few years. People go off to different colleges and meet a new set of friends and their personalities change. This is really what took place when she moved from Florida to Massachusetts. She was thrust into a totally different environment, new people, a new school. There were no cell phones, no Internet, nothing but letters and weekly 20 minute phone calls. I was falling apart as the girl I loved was drifting away into another world.
When we made it official - that is, when she told me that I was still her best friend in the world but she wanted to be honest about the fact that she was going to date other people, I thought the first thing I needed to do was get a replacement girlfriend. I was a complete asshole.
I'll never forget the first girl I took out in an effort to start something new. I don't even recall how we met - maybe she worked with me - but I recall going to pick her up at her house and meeting her parents. Like an image from a bad movie, these people were sitting in their living room dressed up like HeeHaw, on their way out for a night of Square Dancing. I have no recollection of our date, per se, aside from ending up at the Little League park where I intended to commence fucking. This poor girl probably used me as an example for her daughters on how to spot a complete jerk. I recall standing outside with her with leaning up against the hood of my Camaro. I went in for the kiss and once she gently returned the kiss, I was ready to strip down and do her on the hood of the car. That wouldn't be the worst of it. Of course, she pushed me a way and said she needed to get to know me better. How did I counter that? I told her that I had just come from a relationship where we had sex everyday and often multiple times a day, and that the only way this new relationship would work is if she started putting out. I want to say she laughed at me, but in reality, I think she started to cry. Obviously, I took her home right away and that was the end of that.
I realized that I was a mess. I did the only thing one can do in matters like this, and I joined the military so I could be gone from the town that had me trapped in a relationship that didn't exist. Because I had a cool car and because I just didn't care, I had sex with a few random women I met in town before it was time to go off to Basic Training. I would feel so guilty for not being in love with them and for really being a jerk.
I recall this Puerto Rican chick who pursued me and finally convinced me to take her for a ride in my car. She had these huge, balloon like tits that just felt so mushy they actually turned me off. I fucked her on the picnic table of a park near my house, then took her to someplace near her house and dropped her off at her request - probably because she didn't want me to know exactly where she lived. There was no satisfaction in this sort of sex for me.
It got worse. At the age of 18 and in tech school for the Air Force, I met a lady who was older than me. We were quite drunk and left the club to return to her dorm room. As I was going down on her, she started to feel the affects of the alcohol and suddenly lost interest. I convinced her to go with it and we had a few minutes worth of sex before she ended up in the bathroom throwing up. The next morning I returned to pick up the jacket I had forgotten the previous night and her room mate answered the door and yelled at me for taking advantage of her. This was long before we used terms like date-rape, but at the time, I recall being totally shocked at the way I was being accused of ungentlemanly behavior. I was actually quite hurt and we never crossed paths again. Later in life when slogans such as No Means No and the term Date-Rape became common discussion points in the military and society in general, I always wondered if that situation applied.
Regardless, what I learned was that I did not have any real respect for women, and further, there was no chance of me loving anyone but my girlfriend from high school. For the next several years, I would try to imagine every female co-worker or acquaintance as a potential mate. I had some really weird attempts at relationships that never involved friendship. I had a few relationships with girls who were clearly seeing other guys and they didn't hide the fact. In one situation, a girl I was fucking loved to leave my room after we had sex and then go see her regular boyfriend. I had never even heard the term Cuckold and just assumed that her boyfriend was oblivious to the fact that I had just left a load in his girl. I had anther fuck buddy/girlfriend who once told me I needed to leave her room quickly because a mutual friend/co-worker of ours was coming down to spend the night with her. I just got up and left without as much as a second thought.
All during this really confusing time in my life, still 18 or maybe 19, I was falling deeper into depression. I only kept going due to the fact that I had a fast paced job and worked these rotating shifts that caused people to drink and sleep a lot, and then start the whole work schedule again.
I was also trying to understand the feelings that I had experienced throughout my youth, this urge to experiment with guys. The thought of talking about any of my feelings - the depression, the feeling of emptiness over the old girlfriend, and the fact that I had these urges that at the time were cause to be thrown out of the military - were simply buried.
Looking back this many years later, I think I had resigned myself to a few facts. I would never find a meaningful relationship that could compare to the intense love and happiness I had with the girl from high school. I was possibly gay or at least bi. I was a mess. I also realized that I had had enough of living in the military dorms. By the time I left my first assignment, I had turned 21 and I just didn't feel like I could handle living with a roommate chosen by the military and I needed to move off base. Unfortunately, I also knew that it was the First Sergeant's decision, and it wasn't looking good.
To Be Continued...
To this day (and including the last few nights) I often have dreams where as adults, she and I talk about this. Actually, in my dreams I want to talk about it, but every single time, I simply fall in love again, and as she tries to distract my attention with stories of her kids and questions about mine, I can't seem to get to the conversation of how she did more than break my heart, but she literally changed my life, and my ability to love.
So how did I get here? I have actually written about this girl a few times before in The Sound of a Voice, and Married and Bi. But I wanted to go a little deeper. And if you don't feel like reading the other posts, I tend to recap anyway.
For me, it was love at first sight. She was a friend of friends, a grade behind me in high school and I recall the first time I saw her sitting in the gym during some sort of freshman orientation. I told one of my buddies that I was going to fuck her and that she was going to be my girlfriend.
Our romance included a promise ring, matching T-shirts, incredibly fun times and lots, and lots of incredible sex. I think I've written about this before, but I am reminded of the scene in the movie Summer Rental where John Candy says to someone, "Do you know what it's like to peak at 16?" Well, I know that feeling. In spite of all of the freaky things I've done in my adult sex life, nothing will ever match the passion and feeling of something being so right the way that we did. We learned so much together, she was the first person I ever went down on and it even comes with a funny story that I'm sure would make her laugh if I mentioned it to her.
There was something in me that was just driving me to want to go down on her. It was a natural instinct, I believe, and her scent just drew me in. On two or three occasions, I would be kissing her stomach and moving my lips further down and then for some reason, I would chicken out. We did not discuss it, but she knew what I was trying to do. Finally, one evening we were parked in our usual spot at a Little League baseball complex and we were nude in the back seat when I found myself mentally prepared enough to make it happen. Not unlike the first time I tasted my own cum, I just took a deep breath and did it. I took the plunge and in an instant, my face was buried in her perfectly trimmed bush and just as quickly my face was back up and staring at her with a look of shock on my face. "I wish you had told me you were going to do that," she said shyly, "I would have told you I'm on my period." I guess you could say I almost earned my red wings that night, but we decided we could try oral another time.
And when we did, I must tell you with all honesty, it was wonderful. The actual intercourse for me was never the highlight of our lovemaking, it was going down on her. She produced so much fluid that when she would take a position on top of me, my face and neck and chest would be soaked in her juice. For the life of me, my parents had to have noticed when I would come home from a date because without a shower, there is no way I wasn't just wreaking of pussy.
There was more than just sex. She was funny and we would have goofy little conversations and we would hang out together just doing things. We would skip school and take off to the beach - she looked magnificent on a bathing suit - and we would talk about what life would be like, not if we got married, but when. As adults we all recognize that people in high school often have that first real love and from our standpoint, we can look back at our own lives and see that in spite of how perfect a fit at the time, people grow differently and often, those relationships don't last beyond a few years. People go off to different colleges and meet a new set of friends and their personalities change. This is really what took place when she moved from Florida to Massachusetts. She was thrust into a totally different environment, new people, a new school. There were no cell phones, no Internet, nothing but letters and weekly 20 minute phone calls. I was falling apart as the girl I loved was drifting away into another world.
When we made it official - that is, when she told me that I was still her best friend in the world but she wanted to be honest about the fact that she was going to date other people, I thought the first thing I needed to do was get a replacement girlfriend. I was a complete asshole.
I'll never forget the first girl I took out in an effort to start something new. I don't even recall how we met - maybe she worked with me - but I recall going to pick her up at her house and meeting her parents. Like an image from a bad movie, these people were sitting in their living room dressed up like HeeHaw, on their way out for a night of Square Dancing. I have no recollection of our date, per se, aside from ending up at the Little League park where I intended to commence fucking. This poor girl probably used me as an example for her daughters on how to spot a complete jerk. I recall standing outside with her with leaning up against the hood of my Camaro. I went in for the kiss and once she gently returned the kiss, I was ready to strip down and do her on the hood of the car. That wouldn't be the worst of it. Of course, she pushed me a way and said she needed to get to know me better. How did I counter that? I told her that I had just come from a relationship where we had sex everyday and often multiple times a day, and that the only way this new relationship would work is if she started putting out. I want to say she laughed at me, but in reality, I think she started to cry. Obviously, I took her home right away and that was the end of that.
I realized that I was a mess. I did the only thing one can do in matters like this, and I joined the military so I could be gone from the town that had me trapped in a relationship that didn't exist. Because I had a cool car and because I just didn't care, I had sex with a few random women I met in town before it was time to go off to Basic Training. I would feel so guilty for not being in love with them and for really being a jerk.
I recall this Puerto Rican chick who pursued me and finally convinced me to take her for a ride in my car. She had these huge, balloon like tits that just felt so mushy they actually turned me off. I fucked her on the picnic table of a park near my house, then took her to someplace near her house and dropped her off at her request - probably because she didn't want me to know exactly where she lived. There was no satisfaction in this sort of sex for me.
It got worse. At the age of 18 and in tech school for the Air Force, I met a lady who was older than me. We were quite drunk and left the club to return to her dorm room. As I was going down on her, she started to feel the affects of the alcohol and suddenly lost interest. I convinced her to go with it and we had a few minutes worth of sex before she ended up in the bathroom throwing up. The next morning I returned to pick up the jacket I had forgotten the previous night and her room mate answered the door and yelled at me for taking advantage of her. This was long before we used terms like date-rape, but at the time, I recall being totally shocked at the way I was being accused of ungentlemanly behavior. I was actually quite hurt and we never crossed paths again. Later in life when slogans such as No Means No and the term Date-Rape became common discussion points in the military and society in general, I always wondered if that situation applied.
Regardless, what I learned was that I did not have any real respect for women, and further, there was no chance of me loving anyone but my girlfriend from high school. For the next several years, I would try to imagine every female co-worker or acquaintance as a potential mate. I had some really weird attempts at relationships that never involved friendship. I had a few relationships with girls who were clearly seeing other guys and they didn't hide the fact. In one situation, a girl I was fucking loved to leave my room after we had sex and then go see her regular boyfriend. I had never even heard the term Cuckold and just assumed that her boyfriend was oblivious to the fact that I had just left a load in his girl. I had anther fuck buddy/girlfriend who once told me I needed to leave her room quickly because a mutual friend/co-worker of ours was coming down to spend the night with her. I just got up and left without as much as a second thought.
All during this really confusing time in my life, still 18 or maybe 19, I was falling deeper into depression. I only kept going due to the fact that I had a fast paced job and worked these rotating shifts that caused people to drink and sleep a lot, and then start the whole work schedule again.
I was also trying to understand the feelings that I had experienced throughout my youth, this urge to experiment with guys. The thought of talking about any of my feelings - the depression, the feeling of emptiness over the old girlfriend, and the fact that I had these urges that at the time were cause to be thrown out of the military - were simply buried.
Looking back this many years later, I think I had resigned myself to a few facts. I would never find a meaningful relationship that could compare to the intense love and happiness I had with the girl from high school. I was possibly gay or at least bi. I was a mess. I also realized that I had had enough of living in the military dorms. By the time I left my first assignment, I had turned 21 and I just didn't feel like I could handle living with a roommate chosen by the military and I needed to move off base. Unfortunately, I also knew that it was the First Sergeant's decision, and it wasn't looking good.
To Be Continued...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)