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Author's Note/Disclaimer: I originally wrote this piece quite a while ago. I was dealing with writer's block as I worked on another story and the idea for this one wouldn't go away. The full title wouldn't fit in the allowed space, so I've put it at the top of the story, as well as split it between the title and short description.
This piece is autobiographical. Everything in it is true. Everything. It covers ten years of my life, even though it's not that long of a piece. The only updating I've done to it since originally writing is error-checking and slight grammatical touch-ups. (A slight bit of content editing as well. I used to say "chick" waaaay too much when talking about women.) Since first writing this, there have been plenty more share-worthy bits, so this likely won't be the last autobiographical piece I share.
For now, enjoy!
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The Worst of Both Worlds: Confessions of a Bi-Male Slut
You know that old joke? A guy goes into a bar, orders ten shots of tequila and downs them all. Bartender asks what the occasion is. Guy says he just got his first blowjob and the bartender congratulates him and offers another shot on the house. Guy declines, saying if ten won't kill the taste, one more isn't going to help.
Well, like all good jokes, it's funny because it has a grain of truth to it. It's nothing more than a goofy joke until the first time a guy blows his load in your mouth. Then you understand all too well what that guy with the ten shots of tequila was after. Oh sure, having a guy cum in your mouth is hot, don't get me wrong, but you're not going to be moaning with joy like some pornstar when it happens. It's gooey, it tastes weird (One girl I know described it as 'salty bleach.' Doesn't that just make you hungry for it?), and it's not the easiest thing to swallow - especially if the guy's a real gusher. Trying to swallow his cum, while he's still spurting and pumping in and out of your mouth, is not that easy. Maybe it gets easier with practice, but it's nothing I ever strove to be good at. (Note: I'm damned good at giving head, just not swallowing, okay?)
Yeah, I know it's not safe, but what is? Does that mean I condone it? Hell no. I'd tell anybody who asked me if they should do it that they shouldn't. It can be a power-trip if the guy will relax and let his cock do its thing. Or it can be a real chore if your guy can't control himself. "Sorry," he'll say. "I just got carried away." Sure you did, pal. Meanwhile you're the one with the dent in the back of your throat and cum running down your chin. But a lot of guys, especially the ones who are strictly tops, just care about busting a nut. Any discomfort you suffer is merely an annoyance that'll delay the next blowjob. Got news for you buddy, if I get annoyed, there is no "next blowjob." Get it?
"Dude," I hear you saying to yourself, "if it's that bad, why do it at all?"
Simple. I love sucking cock. Not "giving head" or "performing fellatio" or "conducting oral negotiations." Sucking cock. That's how much I get into it when I do it. I fantasized about it for the longest time before I ever did it. It got so bad that I was bobbing my head, imagining a cock in my mouth as I was jacking off. And I had a girlfriend at the time!
Well, she and I broke up, and not because of my desire to taste meat. We just grew apart and the break was about as clean as it could've been. We're still friends today if that lets you know how smooth the break was. There was one other girl after her (before I got to my first guy) but she and I didn't last long. We just didn't click and I was really horned up to get with a guy. That said, she was the first person ever to rim me and I thank her for that. If you've never had it done to you, I highly recommend it. Maybe my ass is just extra sensitive, but I thought I was gonna pass out from how good it felt.
Enough about women, though. I'll get back to them later.
So there I was, horny for a guy and I had no idea how to meet one. Sure, I knew where the bars in my town were, but I wasn't ready for that. Where else to turn? The only other place I could think of - the personals. "Disillusioned, Elitist White Snot." I think I'll remember that headline for the rest of my life. I can't remember the rest of the ad, but I cracked up at the headline and knew I wanted to meet this guy. Okay, I'd pretty much decided to sleep with him if he agreed to go out with me, but we're not up to that part yet. The ad was amusing enough to warrant a call to the 900 number (we're talking pre-tinder days here) and leave a message if he sounded cool. He did, so I left a message. Two actually, since I got cut off by the machine while I was leaving the first one. I started my second one with "How rude!" and just kept going from there. I guess that made an impression since he called the next day.
We chatted for a bit, not about anything in particular and agreed to meet up in a couple days. I met him at his place and we hung out for a while. Maybe that was part of sizing each other up, I'm not sure. I've had a few gay friends, but this was the first time I was meeting a gay guy as something other than a friend. He was a few inches taller than me, maybe 6' 3" or so and had a nice, sturdy build. Not a gym rat or anything, but he clearly made the effort to keep himself fit. He was nicely tanned and was sporting a businessy crewcut. He was certainly easy on the eyes, so I didn't mind the chitchat.
He talked about his job at an ad agency he was a partner at and I thought that was cool since I'd just gotten my B.S. in advertising a year ago. After a bit of that we went out to get something to eat. He had me drive his car, I'm not sure why. Maybe he just like being chauffeured around. (I'd biked over to his place, so my wheels weren't really an option.) We went to a little local place we both liked and had a simple dinner and talked more. The usual "first date" banter, I suppose. What do you do for a living? What would you rather be doing? Nothing too serious. Finally dinner was over and we went back to his place. We chatted some more - him, to put me at ease, I guess. Me, because I had no idea what my first move should be. He solved that problem. "I'm going to do something I've been wanting to do all evening," he announced. "I'm going to kiss your neck".
He'd been sitting on the couch and I was on a footstool in front of him. He walked over to me, bent over with his hands on my shoulders and did just what he'd said he was going to to. I closed my eyes, sighed and just let it happen. He took this as a good sign, which it was, and moved on to my mouth. I wasn't sure what kissing a guy would be like, but it wasn't that different from kissing a girl. After a minute or so, he broke the kiss, reached down and pulled my shirt off. Then he kissed me again and this time his hands started rubbing my chest and back. It felt REALLY good. A bit more of that and he took me by the hand and led me upstairs to his bedroom.
I was nervous and excited at the same time. He sat me on the edge of his bed and took off his shirt and pants. He was halfway hard already and his cock looked huge through his briefs. Then he bent down and pulled my shorts off, leaving me in just my Calvins (I'm usually a boxers guy, except when it comes to riding a bike. Tried that once and the results were uncomfortable to say the least.) with a very visible erection and a large wet spot on the front.
"You sure look ready," he teased.