quizzical pussy

Yesterday was National Coming Out Day, which means that no, of course I’m not done talking about bisexuals!

But first, to everyone who came out yesterday (or ever), to anyone: you are amazing. Really and sincerely, I cannot say this enough: you’re my heroes. Also, probably hot.

Anyway, it all started, as most stories do, when I bought a new bag on clearance last week for $15. The straps were rainbows, but not regular spectral rainbows so much as those retro 1970s palette rainbows. You know how in the ’70s everything looked kind of like that Sesame Street pinball animation?¹ I think it might have something to do with macrame, or Quaaludes… or both. But I’m really not sure. All I know is my bag is working off that color scheme, and has a monkey on it.

 

After a couple minutes of owning this bag, my mind returned quite naturally to the subject of sex, and I came to a realization: “If the regular rainbow stands for gay pride, the retro rainbow should stand for bisexual pride! Because macrame! And Quaaludes! Exclamation point!”

Now, here you’re probably going to stop me to remind me that there already is a bisexual pride flag.

But watch now while I rebut the hell out of you with the following two simple points: a) I like mine better, and b) I’m not already carrying around a pink, purple, and blue bag around every day, now am I?

So that’s my modest bisexual proposal. The immodest ones are even better, but I’m trying to focus on this one for now. Bisexual pride, yo!

1. I’m assuming. I wasn’t born yet, but all primary sources insist that the Victorian era was sepia and the 1970s were Sesame Street pinball. I’m just relating the facts here. [↩]

I don’t know how widely known this is in general, but it’s worth noting that people sexually attracted to more than one gender (let’s call them bisexuals for brevity) get dumped on a little bit. Not enough for me to call myself oppressed or anything, but it’s there.

A bisexual actually may run into a fair amount of derision from both the straight and gay camps, mostly because they’re not doing a good enough job fitting in and fucking all the same people the respective camps enjoy fucking. Which is weird when you think about it because if everyone wanted to fuck the exact same people we’d better all pray to get zapped with the poly spirit soon or life becomes Thunderdome.

Before we go any further I want to acknowledge the reasons it’s easy to be a swinger of many ways, mostly because no one likes a pussy-eating, penis-devouring pessimist¹ and I would cry and get laid much less often if no one liked me. So hopefully the next paragraph down will demonstrate that I know it isn’t too terribly hard to be bisexual. There may also be a mild gloating element involved; we’ll have to see how it plays out.

First off, I probably have more options for getting laid than I would if I were straight or gay. There are definitely people who will refuse to fuck someone strictly on the grounds that they’re bisexual, but I haven’t run into that problem personally. So the fact remains that I can have sex with guys who like chicks and chicks who like chicks. Secondly, my sexual preferences and enthusiasm for threesomes theoretically make me some people’s dream girl: A Magical Sex Unicorn™. The power inherent in being a nigh-mythical sex object is unsubtle, perhaps, but don’t knock it. Other perks include the flexibility to blend invisibly into a heterosexual dominant society if I choose, simply by dating men, and generally having a much comfier closet than the gay one.

But it’s not all group sex and seamless deception. No, not by half.

One of the major problems you’ll run into when you’re bisexual is that no one takes that shit seriously. You can tell someone you’re bisexual, thinking you’re disclosing something very precious and personal, and far too often the response will be “Is that really even a thing?” or “Remember when you started that culinary arts program? And when you bought that dobro? Just wake me when your latest phase is over, okay?” or “Bi now gay later. Just saying.” You may also be accused–and this is much more likely if you’re a woman– of doing it all for the attention. Someone even coined the term myspace bisexual at some point, presumably when myspace was a thing. Because why explore your sexuality if there’s not a camera around? And boys? And boys with cameras?

The disbelief thing strikes me as odd. If I say I’m attracted to something, how does it make sense to tell me I’m mistaken or too young to realize I actually only like one half of that something? Is this just a ploy to get me to eat pussy in front of you because Magical Sex Unicorn™? The chances that will work get lower every time I fall for it, so at this point it’s not looking good.

Another problem bisexuals run into is the idea that it’s fine to be attracted to everyone, but it’s understood that ultimately you have to choose when you land in your obviously-going-to-be-monogamous soulmate relationship. Bisexuals actually repeat this a lot when they insist that bisexual doesn’t mean you want one of each, but that you can be in a committed, loving relationship regardless of gender. This describes some bisexuals perfectly. But not all of us. See, call me a bad bisexual, but I would miss penis. I would miss pussy. Personally, I can be monogamous, but I’m not sure that’s optimal for me. What if I kind of do want one of each?

Is my question.

And something weird: When you’re bisexual, well, you sometimes have this aforementioned ability to blend invisibly into a heterosexual dominant society, whether you choose to or not. And maybe you want to feel like you belong in gay spaces. Maybe you don’t want to be read as straight all the time.

Or the opposite can happen. Either way, people don’t tend to assume that you’re bi, despite what Kinsey may have told us all.

(image source)

1. …which I find oppressive, but we’ll get to that. [↩]

 

I identify as bisexual, and sometimes I don’t really know why.

I’m still very much attracted to men and women. That hasn’t stopped. But the problem is, my lust isn’t necessarily confined to just those options. What about the people– people I’m certainly interested in possibly fucking– who don’t identify strictly as either, or who have a more complicated interpretation of gender? Am I ignoring them by calling myself bi?

Um, pretty much. Yes. I feel like I am. And that bugs me.

I could argue that I’m defining bisexuality as attraction to males, females, and everything in between, but I think that’s the cop-out. The term feels like it’s opting into a binary system: two options where manifold flavors exist. Plus, that would take care of between, but not outside those two genders, so mightn’t it still be ignoring people? Sexy, sexy people?

If I’m getting technical, I’m simply not bisexual.

I’m reluctant to go with pansexual, though. It makes sense, pan meaning “all” instead of bi’s “two”. But most people don’t know or care what the term means, opting instead to make the obvious joke about kitchen wares or the Greek god of nature and being a goat.

I have similar problems with queer, which feels the most authentic and accurate, but seems to generally come off as meaning “gay” to the majority of people who hear it. My partner is a man, so that would get confusing.

I know who I want to have sex with¹ so isn’t any label really and truly for other people? If all it does is obfuscate and befuddle, what’s the point? Why have one at all? It’s not a label, it’s my cue for a monologue. And I don’t like to hear my own voice that much. This is in no way a criticism of people who identify as pansexual or queer. I truly like both terms. I personally don’t know if I have the patience to explain them over and over, is my problem.

But it’s not like people outside the gender binary don’t get tired of explaining themselves all the time, is it? Maybe I should suck it up and stop ignoring them. I need to give this more thought, I suppose.

So I’m still bisexual. I guess. For now.

Really, my sexual orientation is “I’ll be attracted to whomever I damn well please,” but apparently for some reason that’s not a valid option.

1. Usually. Eventually. [↩]

This is a public service announcement: Bisexuals exist. Sometimes I get sick of people pulling the “phase” card, telling us to make up our minds, or assuming that once we start fucking people of one sex that means we’ve sworn off people of another. There is even a TV Trope about this (warning: TV Trope link goes to TV Tropes, so prepare to lose your day if you click).

Some people just get to have more options than you do. Deal with it.

This public service announcement is also a ConTuesday that features people who really can (and perhaps even do) have it both ways.

I’m dying to have a MMF threesome, but my boyfriend has gotten into this rut of non openness and the idea of it being the death of our relationship. I don’t really think I would want him to be a part of it tho’, I would actually rather find an established male bi-sexual couple who want to play with each other as much as me. I want it to be fun and giving, and flirty. I’ve done it with toys, but I want the physical sensation of being between 2 warm bodies. Just the thought of it makes me quiver and get wet.

I’ve never had an MMF threesome, and it’s a huge fantasy. But I have to say, I’d rather have a “devil’s threesome” where no one felt like it was the consolation prize of threesomes. I’d rather just forgo it than have to deal with two guys trying to avoid each other trying to have a 100% heterosexual experience with me. So two bi guys? Yum.

I love my boyfriend. I love his personality, I love his quirks. I love how geeky he is. In bed, he’s perfect. He’s sexy, he turns me on, he’s ok with my sleeping with the ladies (because, you know, sometimes you just want boobs.), he likes being dominating, oh how I love being submissive. The problem is, I had a great sex drive… I was ready for sexy times at the drop of a hat… and he has health problems. Of the, sex is limited because ow my body hurts bad and I just can’t sort. It got to the point where it made me feel terrible to so much as suggest sex, much less actually having sex, even if he initiated, because it would put him out of commission the rest of the day. And then he’d feel terrible because I used to love sex, and now I just can’t get into it. And I’d feel terrible for making him feel terrible.

I’m not old enough for this yet. I love him, but I miss sex with him.

Trying to have a good sex life while working around your health issues can be really, really frustrating for everyone involved. Hope you guys have figured out a way that works for you! Also, ha you’re bi you exist ha!

So, over the course of an extremely raunchy (and fun!) marathon sex session last night, my boyfriend of 18 months came out to me that he is bi. He seemed a little surprised (and relieved) that I wasn’t squicked out by the fact at all.

Hey, I figure I’m bi, he’s bi, as long as we keep communication open and play safe, there could be a lot of fun to be had!

Bi-on-bi love is a beautiful thing. Also, in order to accomplish it you have to have two bisexuals who also exist. Just saying.

I had a friend who was a pre-op transsexual. I wasn’t attracted to him, but it was intriguing, the penis with breasts. I mean I didn’t find him at ALL hot, but his cock was huge and and there was something very sweet and accommodating about his way. That was some strange and singular sex. I think I was his last big hoo-rah, and I think I’ll never be curious again about sex with a man with boobs. Now, sex with a man AND with a woman with boobs, otoh…

I have a bit of a crush on a woman who happens to be trans. No idea what’s going on under her clothes, but I do know that she is so freaking cute and I am equipped to deal with any eventuality. Why? Cause bi!

Gay marriage is now recognized in six states (and Washington D.C.). Right now I feel like my country is 2% more reasonable than it was this time yesterday. And that ain’t nothing.

To all the New Yorkers who’ve been waiting too long for this, I wish you all possible joy! To everyone still denied the right to marry their sweethearts, we’ll get there. I really do believe it. Eventually, we’ll even get Utah.

In the meantime, last night was a good night.

Viola Sharqtipus and I sat side by side at a table in a dive bar. It was a peaceful interlude between the sex we’d had earlier that evening and the sex we were going to have later that night.

A man, some friend of a friend, sat at our table. Never caught his name. He looked from Viola to me, from me to Viola, back and forth. After a think, he asked us, “Are you two sisters?”

No, we both agreed. We were not sisters. Not in the least.

“Because you look a lot alike. A lot alike,” he insisted as we shook our heads. He obviously hadn’t seen us kissing mere moments ago.

…Or had he? If I knew the answer to that one, I would know worlds about this man without ever having to learn his name.

(image source)

One of my coworkers was recently telling us about her son’s impending engagement to his longtime sweetheart. It’s going to happen any day now. Her eyebrow turned a confidential arch as she detailed his plans for the proposal, and the engagement gift she wants to get them. She worried they’re too young, having just finished college, with years of grad school ahead of them. She sighed. She beamed. “They’re not shacking up, though,” she added. “They’re going to move in together after the wedding.”

“That’s good,” said another coworker. “That’s the way it should be.” General concurrence.

“Really?” I asked her in my quizzical way, not just because this woman lived with her boyfriend for a year before he recently became her husband.

“I think it’s the ideal. I mean, I admire people who can do that.”

“It’s great if they want to wait. But I don’t think there’s any one right way. I just think people should do whatever works best for them,” I shrugged.

“Well, yeah. I do too. I just think it’s really classy when people wait to live together,” she asserted. Another shrug from me. “It’s just classier,” she tasted the word again.

As I went back to my work, I wondered what’s “classy” about abstaining from sex before marriage. Indeed, what’s classy about not even abstaining from sex, but maintaining plausible deniability that you’re having it with the person you love. It just doesn’t compute for me.

Let me take a moment to tell you that I’m actually pro-marriage. I’ve had several conversations recently leading me to suspect that a lot of people get the opposite impression from me. People who read my blog might think this because I’ve written that marriage isn’t something I consider important to the continued stability of society. Or possibly because I also stated that a free stand mixer was a perfectly valid reason to enter the sacred institution of matrimony. Or maybe just because I’m so obviously cynical.

But honestly? I’m thrilled when people get engaged. I will squee right along with the best of them when two people I love want to exchange vows. In this society just the word “wife” or “husband” has more heft, more meat to it than “girlfriend” or “boyfriend”, and this is fact. I’m not immune to it, whether I can intellectually justify it or not.

But also, there’s this innate power in having said “You and me, okay? For as long as we keep breathing. This is the goal.” You can make that commitment without being officially married, of course, and I respect that choice as well, but when you’re married you’re more or less asking people to automatically assume it. And that’s powerful too. However it might seem when I’m snarking, I’m pro-optimism and pro-love and pro-commitment. So Yay Marriage! Yay Marriage between any two or more people who want to make that promise to one another.

Is it for me personally? I don’t know. To me, marriage is largely just like any relationship, but with a stated goal (which may or may not work out) and all those little perks like possible tax breaks, legal status, and the ability to easily share insurance benefits. In and of itself, it is neither scary nor numinous. In my able-bodied early twenties I guess I used to think it would be really great to have that kind of bond and goal with someone. Like, hypothetically. But since becoming chronically ill, it feels uncomfortable to even think about asking for that degree of commitment from anyone. I’m aware that I’m not the best long-term investment*. So I don’t know. Probably not.

But I am pro-marriage for you, if you’re into it. I promise.

However, I have to say it once again: I don’t think being married makes anyone better than non-married people. I don’t believe it sanctifies sexual union. I don’t think that living together and sharing a life before you’re (or instead of being) married is tacky or sinful or intrinsically sub-ideal or anything of the sort. I think it’s just what works best for some people and their relationships, which really aren’t my business anyway. Just another choice in a world full of possibilities.

You want to protect marriage? Don’t play nuptial keep away with the homosexuals. Don’t freak out because a woman wants two husbands. Don’t judge couples for having pre- or lieu-of-marital sex. Cluck not about unwed mothers. In observing these prohibitions, perhaps you’ll find that every time people get married, it gets to be beautiful and meaningful to them. Never perfunctory. Never to appease public opinion. Stop making it about you and your expectations. It may surprise you that your marriage can still be what you and your partner/s and your God and your culture want marriage to be. You’re just finally giving the same courtesy to the rest of us.

Because if you, the judgment mongers of the world, keep picking at marriage, trying to reduce it to your own definitions and rules, it really is going to unravel. And all that’s left will be people trying to love each other and be happy. And I have this strange foreboding that in the end, that will be perfectly fine with everyone but you.

(image source)

*These statements do not in any way apply to all or indeed any other disabled or chronically ill people. Just to be clear, I am talking about myself only.

Lately I’m really feeling the theme ConTuesdays. I don’t strictly get enough confessions to do a cohesive theme every week, but I can cobble something matchy matchy together every so often.

Cobbling something matchy matchy together? Say, that makes me think of RuPaul’s Drag Race. Which brings us to…

Our theme. Not drag, sadly. Just LGBTness.

It’s weird to think that I’ve only been admitting that I’m 50% lesbionic for a couple years. I mean, I’ve basically always known. Way more than half my crushes in memory have been on chicks, and I’ve asked every man I’ve ever dated if he’d be okay with me fucking women.

But, you know, I was straight.

Ah, the secrets of the human mind. As secrets go, though, there are better: other secrets that feature the gays and pansexuals and queers, oh my! But just like they say on that homotastic Reading Rainbow, don’t take my word for it…

Coincidence that you should mention guy on guy the other day… yeah, I have a big thing about it. My boyfriend confessed to me the other day that he’d been with a man, and wasn’t too keen on the actual sex but had quite enjoyed giving a blowjob.

Even though we’re normally quite open/kinky and do sometimes have guests in the bedroom, it seems pretty clear that he’s not comfortable even talking about this, let alone repeating it. But I cannot get the image of him sucking cock out of my head. *subtly humps desk*

I mentioned on twitter a while back that I’m partial to gay porn, especially when twinks are involved. I stand by that.

As for you, do you think he’d be interested in blowing you while you wore a strap-on? This suggestion has nothing to do with my long-standing fantasy to have a man suck my pretty, purple dick whatsoever. I’m just trying to be helpful.

I’ve recently become involved with a couple for the first time, and I’m liking it and them a lot. I was concerned about maintaining some level of equality between the three of us but we’re managing to keep the balance just fine… except for the sex.

Sex with him is silly and flirty and relaxing (and HOT), with lots of laughing and fun and even when I don’t get off, I don’t mind, because I’ve enjoyed myself.

Sex with her is serious and dramatic and usually starts out intense but eventually ends up just tense. At least one of us (often her) usually ends up uncomfortable and unsatisfied. Worst of all, she won’t talk about it (at least not with me), so I’m completely at a loss as to how to get us both to relax and let go a bit. Threesomes don’t help; I think they make her even more uncomfortable.

Don’t you hate it when there’s a problem with the sex and it seems like you’re not allowed to talk about it? Maybe you can anonymously send her a message (because I’m all for anonymity). It could go like, “Hi there. This is one of your sexual partners. No sneaky guessing which one, now. I’ve noticed that when we have sex it gets awkward and it seems like you’re not having much fun. If you would be open to talking about this issue, please blink occasionally for ‘yes’ and never for ‘no’. I will recognize this signal, and we can have a calm, adult conversation about our sex life.”

Otherwise? I’m really not a fan, but this rather sounds like a job for pot.

I’m a pansexual poly femme queer woman, laughably oversexed and loving every second. Men are always my primary relationships and I don’t like admitting why. I refuse to have a woman for my primary partner because the one time I tried it we succumbed to lesbian bed death. I didn’t have sex with my girlfriend for six months straight even though I was getting it elsewhere. One day I’ll be too old to attract new partners as easily as I do now so I cannot have my first commitment be to someone who will ultimately lose interest in filling my needs.

I’m a woman myself, FFS. Shouldn’t I know all women aren’t going to turn frigid?

It’s okay to primarily date men. Nothing wrong with it, even if you identify as romantically and/or sexually attracted to all gender variations. You can still identify as a PPFQW, and no one is going take away your pussy-eating merit badges. If your assumptions about women are at all valid, though, I feel sorry for straight men everywhere.

I realized about a year ago that I feel very safe, secure, peaceful and ”at home” when I hear the sounds of people fucking in whatever place I live.

I credit the gay guys I rented a room from back then for helping me discover this beautiful tidbit — I never would have figured it out back when I lived with my Mormon parents.

Some folks might complain about apartments with thin walls and the neighbors who rattle them every night. I’d love to thank them for the best lullaby a girl could ever want!

Yes, the Gay Sex Lullaby, enjoyed by my neighboring hotel patrons on many a magical evening.

You’re so welcome. The pleasure was all mine.

Do you have a sex confession to share? I’m dying to read it.

Things people seem to like to compare same-sex marriage to:

• Pedophilia
• Zoophilia
• A Slippery Slope
• Counterfeit Money
• Incest
• Drug Abuse
• Polygamy
• Forbidden Clock Love
• Slavery
• Nazi. Fucking. Germany

With a couple exceptions (because I will never tire of Forbidden Clock Love), I think these chestnuts are getting a bit old. Yeah, yeah, marrying a consenting adult of the same sex is exactly like marrying a horse, sure*. But where’s the impact? And frankly, when we’re comparing it to polygamy, which even has a strong Biblical basis for the Christians to enjoy, not to mention a robust history of past acceptance, the argument conspicuously lacks teeth.

So I, being a humanitarian at my core, decided to come up with some exciting new suggestions for gay marriage comparisons.

If I don’t see these proliferate throughout the news media soon, I’ll be disappointed. Try to forge new territory, people. Being cutting-edge gets hard when your belief system is older than your numeral system, I know. But that’s why you have to pay attention to the little things.

Now, I honestly don’t know why any of the following suggestions are like same-sex marriage, but I don’t really know why the old, cliched ones are either. I trust the pundits to figure out tenuous-but-alarming links for me. That’s pretty much their job anyway, right? So, without further ado…

Gay marriage is really like:

• Wearing sunglasses indoors.
• Letting Michael Bay marry explosions!
• The part in The Labyrinth when David Bowie turns into an owl.
• Impaling babies on narwhal tusks.
• Kicking the tires of a new car just because you’ve seen other people do it, but not really knowing what anyone gets out of it.
• Marrying cancer.
• Buzkashi, the cut-throat game of goat dragging.
• Riding a fixed-gear bicycle.
• Destroying all the cookies in the world.
• Licking doorknobs when you’ve got a cold and you know you’re still contagious.
• Throwing monkeys into turbine jet engines.
• Being in love with just, you know, being in love, man.
• Giving America AIDS.

I hope this gives the anti-gay marriage activists some new material to work with. You really need to flood the airwaves with as many of these comparisons as possible or people will start conflating gay marriage with marriage marriage, possibly at some point dropping the “gay” qualifier. That would obviously be disastrous to someone. I’m just not positive whom.

But I don’t want to see that tired bestiality thing trotted out yet again, okay guys? You’re better than that.

(image source)

* No.

In honor of Valentine’s day, I’m featuring confessions that mention couplehood, which can be awesome or, you know, not always quite so much.

I am married to a beautiful, strong-willed and independent woman, who I love also because of these qualities and want to grow old with. I was raised to respect woman and consider myself a feminist man. This is important part.
The sex is good (up and down), but i have a dirty fantasy.
I want to have a full day with her, naked and dressed in all kinds of slutty clothing, at my calling as my slut where she does anything and everything what i want. And she likes doing all this.
I want to come home, order her to get on her knees and have her blow me and let me come in her mouth and over her face. Treat her like i never would.
Then, the next day, the roles will be completely reversed and i do everything she tells me.
After this weekend, we go home like nothing happened.

I can’t for the life of me think what’s stopping you! At least from talking about this. So doable, and so many women would be into it. Go go go have awesome sex!

I am really, really curious about my boyfriend’s number. I don’t care about numbers and I’m don’t judge people based on them, but I do like to know. Mine is pretty high, especially for my age. He is older than me, has lived in New York for longer, and is a bartender so I’m sure his is higher than mine.

I am so, so curious. And I really don’t want to ask him.

I have no ideas for this other than a very cheesy “I dreamed we compared numbers, and you’d slept with like 200 people before me. I was a little aroused, actually…” and see how he reacts, hoping he coughs up the number voluntarily. This is probably completely transparent, but if I couldn’t bring myself to ask it’s very likely the way I’d go with it.

My boyfriend gave me a magic wand for the winter holidays and I just used it for the first time about 20 seconds ago. It was AWESOME. Easiest orgasm ever! I feel great, but my vagina is a little tingly.

They are legend for a reason.

This year I resolve to get into buttplay, with the end goal of letting my boyfriend fuck me in my girly butt. He’s been very politely asking for this for about a year now. So far we’ve done some asscheek fucking and I’ve realized that pressure against my anus feels great. But I’ve balked at any sort of penetration. Our next step is for him to finger my ass (inside a condom or glove) during oral.

Wish me luck!

Good luck! Going slowly with butt play/sex greatly increases the chances that you’ll like it. Any updates?

I wound up in bed with another girl at a party the other night. We mostly just kissed, and I got to lick her pussy a bit (wonderful!). My boyfriend was really, really angry at me. All 3 of us had wound up in bed at first, and she was kissing him, then he left and came back to find us making out. He’s still angry at me. The thing is, I wanted it to be a threesome, not a twosome between me and her, and I also found it incredibly, incredibly hot. I’m really struggling with my desire to be sexual with women and the fact that my boyfriend isn’t down with it at all. But…licking her pussy was one of my favorite sexual things I did all year. It was totally awesome. God.

The classic bisexual’s conundrum. I mean, I know it’s completely counterproductive to feed the assumption that all bisexuals (and you may identify as pansexual, queer, etc. so just know that I’m not trying to undermine that; just picking a term) want more than one partner, but…um… a lot of us do.

My boyfriend is into orgasm denial and telling me when I may or may not have one. Normally I find it really hot, but right now I’m really angry at him so I’m going to masturbate all day and not ask for permission once.

What’s the fun in being a sub unless you can be bratty once in a while? Maybe actual subs can tell me, but I can’t imagine never breaking the rules.

Got a confession? Send it in here. Think of it as a belated V-day present to the internet.