Why do we have labels? “He’s a father”, “She’s a hiker”, “They are a teacher”, “He’s gay”, “She’s straight”, “He’s bi”, etc. They really all only exist for one purpose. Society puts them on us for “relation”. So that we can say “Oh, I understand him because he has the same label as me. He’s a father, and I’m a father. We have a connection.”
This has always bothered me, and honestly, it’s bullshit. Just because you are a father and I am a father doesn’t mean we can relate. It means that we can both reproduce. I could be a shitty father who beats my kids and you could be an awesome father who does everything they can with their children. Just because someone claims to be bisexual, doesn’t mean that they are completely into men and women.
Growing up, I was scared to death that I might be gay. Living in the conservative mid-western United States, “gay” was the devil’s work. But I knew I liked women, so everything must be fine, right? I’d never be one of those “gay” people, whatever they were.
Little did I know back in those early youth years just how complicated my own sexual definitions would become (and those of the world). Add to these, definitions of what gender people identified as, and it added a whole new ingredient to the soup.
Nope, not “gay”. How could I ever want to have sex with a man? So gross – a twelve-year-old me would think.
Slide the bar forward two years and I’m in the small bathroom in our basement, naked, peeing. I go to shake myself off and I notice that it feels really good to shake myself off for some reason. So I keep doing it. I get harder and harder, becoming more and more aroused. I’m standing at the toilet shaking my penis up and down (not stroking, just whipping it as if it had pee on it) and suddenly I began to convulse uncontrollably and white fluid squirts out of me. I am instantly hooked on orgasms. I go back to my room and began to whip it again, but find that I get more sensation if I move my hand up and down on the shaft. This goes on for a couple of days (on and off obviously – wasn’t masturbating 24/7, though I wanted to).
One day, while I was masturbating, a small amount of cum came out and I touched my finger to it and then licked it. I loved the taste. What made me want to taste my cum, I have no idea, but it changed something else in my head. Being much more limber than I am now, I bent down and licked the tip of my penis. This gave me a whole new sensation. I ran my tongue around the head of it and between my foreskin, it felt amazing, even better than stroking it. I sucked on the head gently then took in about an inch and a half. Again, I felt the warmth building up inside me. I remember being afraid I might poison myself if I came in my mouth and I pulled my face back a bit and closed my lips, shooting cum onto the outside of my lips. This would go on for a few days before I had the courage to actually unload into my mouth. Once again, a game changer. To drink the cum as it was flowing out of me at the same time was exhilarating.
I found every excuse I could to suck myself and masturbate. I’d sneak away during gym class to go down to the locker room and take off my clothes and masturbate or suck myself. I’d go to the bathroom during an event and go into a stall and relieve myself. It was uncontrollable (and still is a lot of the time). If it was a public situation, I almost exclusively sucked myself so I wouldn’t leave cum anywhere. I had found my high sex drive.
Then I overheard some boys talking about being “gay” and how masturbation was bad and sucking a guy’s dick was gay and disgusting. Then I thought to myself, “Oh my god, am I gay? I love sucking my own dick and I love the taste of semen.” But I was conflicted, I loved girls too, I absolutely loved eating my neighbor girl’s pussy, fingering her, I couldn’t get enough of it. I loved eating her clit and feeling her climax under my tongue, convulsing hard. “So, am I not gay?” I was so conflicted and confused.
This went on for another few years. I had sex with a few girls and loved it and figured I must be straight. Then one evening when I was eighteen after working a long shift at the restaurant I was working at, my co-worker invited me over to his and his wife’s house (he was about four years older than me) for dinner. Long story short, he said how he considers himself completely straight but has always wanted to try stroking another guy and asks me if I’d let him try stroking me. (I will write a longer article about this experience sometime) I did and it was mind-blowing. This again had me questioning my sexuality. What am I? Am I straight? Am I gay? It was all I knew. I decided I need to experiment a little and within the next year, I let a guy blow me and also blew a guy and stroked with a few guys. I realized that I thought muscular men and twinks were extremely attractive to me. But, again I was also extremely attracted to women. I was unknowingly realizing I was (sort of) bisexual.
I say “sort of” because these days I don’t really even consider myself bisexual. I have had intimate relations (and also hardcore sex) with men, women, trans-MTF, and trans-FTM. In a nutshell, I really don’t care about gender. As long as they are sexy and find me sexy, that’s all that matters.
Bisexual, pansexual, omnisexual, gay, straight. They are all just fucking labels and honestly, I hate them all (the labels, not the people). I will not let myself be defined by a label at least not when it comes to sex and gender. I am human and I am sexual. That is my label.
