CONFESSIONS OF LOST MEMORIES

The first time I had sex with a girl was just after I turned eighteen. I remember the planning. The excitement. The expectations. I remember  asking a friend of mine for a condom because I was too nervous to go and buy a pack.

So the day came. It was Halloween, and I was armed with a Lifestyles blue condom!  We were both making out on her living room couch (it was a weekday, so no one was home.) and things were heating up. We both kept asking if we were ready for this. After a couple of times saying “yes”, we both got up and started to take our clothes off. We had already seen each other naked before so we weren’t shy. The nerves were for what was about to happen.

I lied her down on the carpet, since I didn’t want to make a mess on her couch. I gently rolled the condom on and proceeded to mount her missionary style. The sudden fear of accidentally trying to deflower her belly button passed through my head-- but thankfully that didn’t happen! As we got into it, the slight discomfort for her ( yes, her first time as well) began to subside a bit as I began to figure out a rhythm. 

“Holy fuck, I’m doing this,” is what I was thinking. I kept looking down at my dick going in , just to make sure this was real. It didn’t last too long, but it was nice. And, it was a let down. Not because of the person I was with or anything. It was because it was totally different from what my mind made sex out to be. It wasn’t like I was turned off by it. I tend to believe that practice makes perfect.

In the end, I asked her countless times that day if I hurt her at all and she assured me she was all right. She then went to wipe herself with a tissue and showed me some blood.

(via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eAfyFTzZDMM)

Truth:

1) This song used to annoy the shit out of me.

2) The video used to haunt me so I would flip the channel. 

When I was eleven years old, my best friend witnessed a couple of bullies harassing me. They were calling me a faggot and a bunch of other things and was really upsetting me. Being shy and introverted, I felt helpless and I sure as hell did not have the guts at the time to stand up for myself. so my friend intervened and told them all to fuck off and they did.

After school I went over to his house. This was a normal occurrence. While we were hanging out, I told him that I was afraid that they were right and that maybe I was gay. This was a huge anxiety issue for me. My friend reassured me that I was fine. 

“You’re just saying that.” I told him.

He decided he was going to prove it. He started to undress in front of me, right down to his underwear. 

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Proving you ain’t gay.” He said.

I was getting embarrassed and told him to stop. He removed his underwear and stood before me completely naked. He posed for a second like Superman and asked me to look at him. I was very nervous, but intrigued. He hadn't begun puberty yet so he was pretty much hairless. He pranced around and even shook his ass at me. He kept telling me that I wasn’t gay. Somehow we got into wrestling and fell to the floor. I was fully clothed and he was naked. As I tried to position myself, my hand grazed his bare butt which felt weird, since, I’ve never touched anyone else before. I apologized, but he said it was ok. 

He got up and I noticed he had a boner. I looked at him and he looked at me and we both laughed. I told him to stop being naughty and he said,”spank me.” I gave him a couple quick slaps on his bare bottom, not realizing that it was turning him on. We giggled some more which started to ease the tension. 

As he stood there with his boner, he smiled at me and said to get naked along with him. At first, I was reluctant but then I decided to go for it and stripped down. By this point, I was also boning up from the excitement. To his amazement, I had started puberty and began to sprout pubic hair, much to his fascination. Things got more intense.

“Wow! Is it weird having hair down there?” He asked.

“I dunno, feels ok.” I said.

“Can I touch the hair?” He asked curiously.

“Ok.” I hesitated.

He ran his fingers across my pubes as if almost fanning them through. The feeling was exciting, although this fear of someone coming home and catching us was flashing through my mind. He then got closer and started to move his dick next to mine, making contact.

“Wait, this is sort of gay?” I protested. “I thought..”

“Shush. Our secret okay?” He answered smiling enthusiastically . 

It felt strange to have my friends pre-pubescent boner sword fighting with my pubescent one. For a few minutes, the question on both our minds were waiting to ask sat in the air around us. Then, he asked first.

“Can I touch your dick?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing.”

“I guess it okay then!” He said.

We both reached out and felt each others’ dicks. This was the first dick other than my own that i was touching and secretly, I was enjoying it as much as he was. We played with each other for a few minutes and then we had to stop because his older brother was to be coming home soon.

“You’re not gonna say nothing right?” He said.

“Of course not!” I answered.

“This was sort of fun. Maybe we’ll do this again when no one’s home.” He said.

I was sixteen years old and I just started my first job. About a couple months in, I was starting to change my appearance. Different clothes, different hair. I was getting into more darker musical tastes--I was becoming goth. 

So this cute short haired brunette started coming by my work with her mom. I caught her looking at me, but being shy, didn’t exactly pursue it. One day, a fellow co worker of mine slipped me a note and told me it was from her. The note had her name and phone number on it. Call me!

So, after about a day, I decided to try calling the number. I still wasn’t sure if it was real or if my co workers were playing a prank on me. The phone rang a couple times and an older woman answered. I asked for the girl who left me the note and she called her over to the phone. This girl had a really sweet voice and had told me about how she’d seen me at work over that summer a handful of times and wanted to talk to me. 

So after talking a bit, I got the courage to ask her to meet me somewhere so that we could talk more. We agreed to meet outside the mall where I worked and we would take it from there. 

I was nervous as hell that afternoon. I made sure I looked my best and everything. She showed up wearing cut off shorts rolled up at the knee. A white Cure t shirt and a small black fedora. She looked fucking adorable!

We started to walk around, talking about the usual teenager stuff--music, movies, hobbies. She listened intently as I talked about my love for post punk music and my interpretations of lyrics from various bands. It felt so natural to talk to her this way. It was liberating.

We sat in the park for a while and continued talking. She gazed in my eyes and her smile made me smile. As we got up from the park bench, I asked if we could hold hands. She agreed and her touch made me feel like a god. I never held a girl’s hand before. Walking through the park, I couldn’t help but be like “Look at me, bitches.”

As we finished our “date”, we made plans to call each other and get together again, maybe by her house or out to dinner. Before leaving, we smiled at each other by the train tracks. I had thanked her for a wonderful time and was starting to pull away when she stopped me. She pulled me in and then proceeded to give me a long, wet, tongue in mouth kiss-- to the likes that this young man had not experienced in his life. It was intoxicating, so much that i came back for a second round.

It took me years to wrap my head around this. 

It’s not a “phase”. 

It’s not being indecisive. 

It doesn’t have specific guidelines. 

There’s no right/wrong, black/white.

Bisexuality is real and there is no shame in it. The only standards are the one the persons themselves allow. I’ve come out to a few people close to me over time and I’m much happier. I came to terms with my bisexuality about four years ago and I’m glad I accepted it. Do I feel I need to post a billboard? No. That doesn’t stop me from supporting friends who want to do that. 

I knew a family member who stayed in the closet for his entire life and only after he died did my father, the only person he told, reveal his secret. I always thought that was a shame. I encouraged a girl I once worked with to come out because she was so miserable hiding it and now she’s happily engaged to her girlfriend. I did not want her going through the rest of her life living a lie.

I myself have been in a long term straight relationship and my fiancee knows I’m bi and totally accepts it. I’ve had same sex experiences in the past, some I’ve already written about. For years I felt scared and ashamed about them. Now, I don’t feel that there was anything wrong with them.