GayDar at the Gym

I've seen this guy working out at the gym before. He's young (way too young for me) and last time I saw him there with this blond girl. He would go do a set, then come back to her and help her out. Then run and do his set again. He's short..probably around 5'5", but nicely built and very cute.  But, these two would also be kissing in between their sets...I mean..get a room!


So, I am watching him...cause he is very cute....but, I go through my workout, and leave. I've seen him since then, without the girl, and pretty much enjoy the view as he works out. We never said anything to teach other.  This morning, again he was there, and after my run, I went to pee and I passed him in the locker room - him going in when I was leaving.

Then I head to the free weight area. He's there, by the cables and I'm glancing over..in between my sets..just checking out the scenery.  As I look, he's uh, scratching his balls..or adjusting his cock or something in his shorts. Again, not really anything unusual....so, I keep lifting..working on my arms.

Again, I glance and he's adjusting again. I watch as he does another set, and he's got a great, nice small ass in those shorts. I finish my curls, and head to the water fountain, and into the bathroom. Again, he comes in as I leave. Back to the weights and his adjusting...

I don't know..I have this fantasy of someone hot like him, meeting him in the bathroom and jerking him off or sucking him and making out in the stall at the gym.  Who knows if his adjustments were some sort of sign or just a bad case of jock itch.

It's Good to be the King

Still problems with Feedburner..anyone can help, please let me know!
 ***
I love a massage..but it has to be hard and long (and yea, that could also apply to other things I like).  Do I like a happy ending?

Who wouldn't? But, it's not a necessity if the massage is top rate.

I posted an add for a massage. Was hoping I could find someone who wanted to touch another guy and may be good at it. I got some responses..mostly from guys I wouldn't want to touch me.  One was from a younger guy, 28, Indian descent, 5'7" and seemed to be into giving a massage.  When we traded pictures, I got a slew of ass pics, naked pics from him..so I kinda figured he wasn't looking to give a massage, but have sex. So, I passed.

A few days later the guy emails me, asking me if I'm still looking for a massage.  I told him that it seemed like he was looking for more that just massaging me, so I figured we weren't a match. He insists that he's cool with massaging me, and he would provide a happy ending.  Cool...so we plan on meeting up.

I drive toward his apartment, which turned out to be quite a drive. I finally get there, and park and walk up to his building. He opens the door and greets me and I follow him to his bedroom, which is dark with lit candles..nice touch.  Now this guy, as I guessed, was not my type.at all. Seemed nice..but, was a little heavier than I prefer. But, he's willing to give me a massage..

I undress and lay on his bed. He compliments me on my tan and presumes I work out. He grabs some lotion and rubs my back and has a pretty firm grip. He moves down to my ass, and rubs it quite well. Then down my legs and feet.

After a while, he returns to my back, and then concentrates on my waiting ass. He grabs more lotion (lots more) and slathers my ass and rubs..gently moving between my legs and between my butt. Soon he's reaching under my butt, and lightly caressing my balls and now, my hardening cock.

Eventually, he asks me to turn over and rubs my legs and thighs, again, caressing and brushing against my hard cock. Soon, he grabs more lotion and is jerking me off, as he's rubbing my balls. I shoot loads of cum over my chest.

I shower and get dressed and thank him for my massage. I'm told I'm welcome to return anytime.

Feedburner Help!

If anyone knows why my Feedburner is not recognizing when a post is publish - even my blog listed on a blog roll shows that it hasn't been updated in days..please let me know!

HELP!!!!

Frat Star Friday: Bro Dating

Hi, I’m Frat Star. 

I’m in my early 20s and, in order to spread my unbound wisdom to a lot of young guys in a similar position, I’ll be writing "Frat Star Fridays!" from now on. I’m a great guy, so I thought I’d tell you a little about myself: 

   

   When it rains, it is because I’m thinking of something sad.

    I punched a clown once. That’s right. You heard me. 

    When in Rome, they do as I do. 

Now that I’ve introduced myself to you, feel free to hit me up with any comments, compliments or questions (complaints too, but I know there won’t be any of those) at wsa215@gmail.com.

*****

It’s dark and the lights, music and people in the basement are blaring. Credence Clearwater Revival is on full blast. In loud fraternity basements, you have to communicate via body language.

There’s a girl standing in the corner who’s checking me out. I look back at her and keep my gaze for five seconds. She giggles and gets nervous. I like to flirt. I keep myself busy pouring drinks so that she won’t come up to me, but aim to make sure that she doesn’t consider me her only suitor for tonight. Half an hour later, I realize I’ve gone to far in throwing drunk faux-game.

"Fuck." I think to myself. "Why can’t she check out one of the other brothers?" Ten minutes later, my savior arrives. He’s tall and handsome and as I see him I can’t help but smile. He nods his head up and I can’t help but smile a little bit. As we catch eyes, I see it. A swift jerk upward of the head, but its so dark I can only make out his flat brim. It’s my dude. He walks quickly but confidently up to the bar.

"Hey dude, what’s up!" he says with a huge smile as we do a one-armed hug. From the hug I can see her. She’s a little surprised, but she understands the picture clearly now. This dude is gay.

If you’ve just come out, it’ll take a while to establish a solid footing before you’re able to find someone. People do different things before they come out and act in different ways. It depends on your demeanor. I was a little bit of a whore before I came out. My partners were often selected via the internet, and there was absolutely nothing aside from casual conversation. I’m sure you all know of the "five minute chat" before you hook up. You ask how the other person that happens to be attached to a penis is doing. "Fine," he says while continuing the hollow small talk. Five minutes later, after you’ve taken off your coat (and maybe hid your cell phone) he says the same line everyone says with some variation: "So… want to chill on my bed?"

These types of relationships – hookups really, but if you take it from the most reductionist standpoint possible, I guess they are relationships of some form – are pretty unsatisfying. There’s no warmth to them. You don’t get the same electricity you do from kissing someone you like. Usually, you dispense with that kind of softness: you’re there fore a nut, not to cuddle. However, I understand the argument that young men need to have a lot of sex before they settle down. I used to think that was a perfectly valid statement, but now I’m personally not so sure. This has to be your decision. I know some people who are totally cool with being abstinent for years before they find someone to have sex with. I also know guys who are completely unethical and have zero issue in leading you on to thinking you guys will have something – even days after the fact so that they don’t feel so guilty about using you – but were just chasing a one night stand.

You’ll basically notice from what I’ve written that you’ll change immensely after you come out. Developmentally, you’re really at the level of an 18 year old. You discover new parts about your body and what you enjoy sexually. Six months ago I would have never entertained the idea of anal sex. Now, I enjoy what I colloquially call "flipping" or the act of trading the role of the penetrative partner (for some reason this exact term doesn’t get used a lot, but it should be). This isn’t to say that the penetrated partner is any less of a man, but I personally prefer both and I also feel that it’s more equal – however I do know two very academically distinguished and masculine bottoms that are anything but effeminate. From what I’ve been told by some members of the older generation, a lot of young men start off as tops and then convert to bottoms as they age. It depends on how you feel, and you need to find someone solid to explore this whole moment with.

A lot of this advice is contingent upon where you want to start, what your sex drive is and what experience you have with dudes. There are guys that have had long-term relationships with other dudes while in the closet, and they’re perhaps a bit more accustomed to waiting for sex and understand how it feels to love another dude. However, I’m guessing that most people in my situation just had random non-anal sex so I’m going to advise with this in mind.

Before you come out, I’d suggest that you generally refrain from hooking up for a few weeks. By the time you get to this state of mind, you’ll probably be rather upset and emotionally touchy so you may not really want to get off with another person. However, once you make the decision to come out there’s something more substantial to take into consideration: chances are, you’ll be the first gay dude that most of your friends have ever met. You will be examined a little bit to see how things roll, and it’s always best to be discrete or abstinent (unless you’re in a relationship) until things settle down. You’ll act very weird for the first month or so until you’ve calmed down. A few words of advice during this period: do not drink in large crowds of people if you tend to get chatty while you’re drunk.

Should you already be in this position, I’d highly recommend that you take some time off from hooking up to learn about yourself. You need to ask yourself a lot of questions: what kind of guy do I like? How should he act? How important are physical traits such as a six-pack or a large penis that were formerly very important when searching for a hookup? Does he make me feel safe? What do I need from someone to trust them? If you’re flipping, getting penetrated is the most insanely intimate act humanly possible. It’s almost a bit traumatizing in a bizarre way. You’ll need to be gently touched and kissed through it and, if it’s your first time, it will sting quite… badly.

If you haven’t lost your virginity to a one-night stand, then please heed my advice and abstain from doing so. I did, and it was an atrocious mistake of the highest caliber. I read the signs but I deluded myself into thinking that I wouldn’t be played, and I vacillated in between happy and steaming for the next two weeks until there was radio silence. I understood what happened. He understood what happened. It takes two to tango, and I’m equally as responsible for my bad decision as he was. Also, for the love of God, use a condom. You don’t know what your partner’s been doing and until you know this kid like he’s family, you use a fucking condom. Common sense.

I don’t always have it, haha.

Once you’re calm and collected, you will find someone. The thing that absolutely sucks about love is that you cannot force it. You won’t really have any control over who you fall in love with, but you can discern what characteristics you like (1. Trustworthy; 2. Everything else.) in order to avoid bad eggs. So, how do you go about finding this guy?

First, you’ll hear from whatever gay friends that you have about how they were just sitting in class and sat down right next to his boyfriend and it was just fate. I can’t say I’ve had this happen – I needed a little extra help and I have absolutely no "gaydar" – so don’t get discouraged. Second, any thoughts you’ve had of turning your best straight friend gay should immediately be discounted from your head. If he hasn’t taken the step to be open, then you do not try to bark up that tree. Leave well alone.

A lot of girls will be completely psyched to have a masculine gay friend who they can vent with. Their boyfriends will also totally get a kick out of you because, well, girls can be sort of annoying and you’ll make for better conversation if she’s being pissy. Girls will also tend to know a lot of other gay guys – if you’re under the age of 21, sorry, this may not apply – through work or something, so give it a shot. I met the guy I’m seeing now through one of my straight guy friends, so be prepared for suitors to come out of the wings. You should also go on every date (often they’re blind) offered, even if you know that you two would never be in a relationship.

When our parents were born in the 1950s or 1960s, dating was something that you did rather casually. Most guys today think a date implies something more serious because that’s how most heterosexual people treat them, but really a date is nothing more than just getting to know a person. The more dates you go on, the more experience you’ll have at establishing small talk. If you aren’t sure about a guy – maybe I like him, maybe I don’t – then always follow up with a second date. Here are some good first date ideas:

1   .      Football games or any sports that are televised 2   .      A two-person athletic activity, such as biking or sailing 3   .      "Drinks" at decent bar, get a max of two (Macallan’s straight for the win) and chat 4   .      An activity that you really enjoy and are willing to take a risk that the other person will enjoy too. Some people like that Japanese animation crap. If that’s you, go for it – he’ll find out eventually. I like museums. Depends on what you’re into

…and so on, and so forth. You should never have a date at your apartment or dorm. There are a lot of reasons for this, but I’m sure you can guess what they are without me writing them down for you like an infant.

Finally, the character of the person is far more important than any physical factor. It’s trite, I know. However, it is a valid statement because there are a lot of bad dudes out there who can bruise you and put you back into an uncomfortable situation. Frankly, no one wants to coddle the gay guy when he breaks up or has an unpleasant relationship, so you’re going to have to be double the man that your straight friends are and suck it up until you can talk to a gay buddy.

Be conservative with your body and demand respect from whoever gets to touch it.

I’m Frat Star, and that’s my lecture on the principles of Bro Dating. Next week? Telling your straight friends that you love dick.

Not So Professional

I end up making plans with the guy I spoke with yesterday on Grindr. He texts me and says he's at work in the city and to meet him at the train station at 4:00. I head there and see him get off the train..nice..all dressed..suit and tie. Looks slim..professional. He walks up to my open window..we shake hands. He asks if he can come into the car..and I say sure. He directs me to where he's parked, which is a few blocks from the station. "So, did you tell me to meet you here to avoid this walk, or were you really interested in hanging?" I say and laugh. He reaches across the seat and squeezes my package...I guess I got my answer.

I drop him off at his car..and he waves me to follow him. It's a warm day and the windows are open on both our cars. I stop behind him at a traffic light. His hand relaxing outside the window with..a lit, smoking.. cigarette in his fingers...."great" I'm thinking, "I'm gonna have to kiss that ashtray mouth".

We wind our way to his house and he invites me in. We head to his dark bedroom and we kick off our shoes and he his jacket and tie. I pull out his dress shirt and slide my hands under to feel his smooth chest and work my way to his nipples. He re-coils..."not the nipples" he pleads.."they're very sensitive." He pulls off his pants, shirt, underwear and I do the same. I lay down on his bed and he straddles my legs and sucks my hard cock. He looks up intermittently and asks if I'm enjoying it..."yes" i reply..trying to coax my inner, missing verbal skills.

He frequently forces his head down on my cock, making noises of choking..gagging on every thrust... He moves his body closer to my face, and I grab his uncut (!) cock into my mouth. He grabs the back of my head and forces me to take more..and I swat his hand. I continue to suck and he again grabs my head and I pull my head off his cock and tell him not to push me.."I don't like to be forced" I tell him. We change positions and he asks if I want to fuck him. He grabs a condom and I put it on. He gets on all fours and I enter him doggy style...he yells... "Damn man!" he says. "You're so fucking thick! Don't move..let me get used to this." "No problem...we didn't even get to the fucking hard part!" I tell him, reminding him that he wanted me to be aggressive..

We change positions and he gets on top of me..thinking that it will be more comfortable. He still is quite uncomfortable. Eventually, we're back doggy-style..and we're getting into it. I'm fucking him pretty hard (or trying to the best of my non-aggressive abilities)...and he's responding with his own butt motions back.

"Spit on my hole" he tells me.
 "Huh?"
"Spit on my hole.." he says again.

I'm thinking..my cock's in him....how am I gonna spit on his hole, with me in him I'd have to aim from my lips all the way to his ....and secondly....it's kinda (not even kinda) gross...but....trying to be more aggressive I comply...getting a wad of spit streaming perfectly from my mouth to his hole with my cock in it..NICE SHOT! -- I'm thinking: now's a good time for someone to high-five me --- and we're fucking again.

"Spit again" he says a short while later.




Damn...this isn't like going where I want it to. What am I some fucking spit machine or a fucking and spit machine? Eventually, I pull out and blow my load over his gaping asshole as he cums on his comforter. My cum drips into and down his ass as he gets up to clean up. He brings me paper towels..and we clean up. There's your spit man..

Hump Day: Daniel Kevin

"I'm 21 years old, I just recently moved to Charlotte NC from Wilmington NC. I'm a very experienced model. I am in the process of getting back into modeling. I took a year off for work and personal reasons. My look is always changing so there's definitely variety in my work. I'm interested in TFP assignments as long as they benefit both photographer and I. Thank you so much for checking out my portfolio."

Professional Courtesy

Some guy on Grindr chats me. Someone I haven't seen before. He's 5'11" 160 lbs white, single Italian guy. Age is yet to be determined (he doesn't list an age) but probably early 30's maybe 28 or 29. Definitely looks cute by his face pic.

Turns out he lives near my job and can host. We swap some pics and this guy's got a hot, smooth, lean body. Hot ass too. He likes my pics and sends me his phone number.  I call and we have a brief conversation. He's on vacation this week, can host at any time and we plan on meeting the next day. He apparently is also working in the same industry as me, which I found funny.  When I started asking where, what company and getting specific, he said "frankly, I don't feel comfortable telling a complete stranger everything about my job."  OK, I can understand that.

We hang up and he chats me..asks how I like "to bang."   Doggy-style tell him. "Nice" he says. "You like to bang hard? Cause if I'm gonna get fucked, I wanna get banged hard."

Well, maybe we're not a perfect match, but I can certainly try and be more aggressive....

Anyway, hoping to meet this guy tomorrow...will let you know.

Clowns to the Left of Me, Jokers to the Right

Does anyone remember being young? I remember..I remember feeling attraction to girls. I remember even having a "girlfriend" - you know- put a little note in her desk saying "I like you - do you like me" type of girlfriend. I loved her short, brown, bouncy hair. She was cute, she was fun...she was my first crush. Of course, I was 7 so such young love was innocent.  I also remember about the same age being with my neighbor,  my best friend - a boy-  "I show you, you show me" in his backyard shed. That too was innocent. 

As I grew up there was always that unexplained duplicity and confusion: how can I liked girls but have this strange interest in boys?  In high school, I certainly admired other hot girls and could chat with my buddies about them. We could check them out together, and when I got to college I had the reputation of being quite the ladies man. Yet, despite the brash, cocky attitude that everyone saw, inside I was torn. Yes, I jumped from one girls bed to another, was the "campus whore" but I hid a secret nobody knew - my eyes always wandered to the boys. 

But, damn, I wasn't gay - because being gay means I should be artistic or flamboyant or feminine or, yes some would say "swishy".  But I wasn't any of those things so how could I be gay?  I was into hanging with "my bros", drinking, smoking pot, sports. I had little in common with those "fags" - which added to the confusion. 

You see Frat Star isn't much different from me when I was young. He's brash, cocky, conceited, and until recently when he came out - deep down he was completely confused on which side of the isle he should stand.  I don't think I'm completely straight because I'm thinking about guys, but, I can't be gay because look that that group over there! Where do I fit in? I'm not Kurt from Glee and societies definition of the gay person being a man in drag makes me equally repulsed. I'm neither. Can you tell me someone out there has never felt that way?

Being young and confused is depressing, troubling, and  is full of peer pressure. When everyone else is making plans for the Prom, you're wondering whether inviting a girl is the best choice or whether not going is the better option.

Frat Star makes some amazing points in his Manifesto. He describes the tumult of being bi incredibly well:

• the pressure of pleasing your parents and relatives: "If I came out publicly my old man would die of shame – his old army buddies wouldn’t approve – while my mom would encourage me to buy some queer condo in a rapidly gentrifying neighborhood so I could live with my “life partner.”"
•  the wonder if you will be accepted by your friends: "Isn’t college supposed to be the time where you make mistakes, where you experience new emotions and feelings, where you try on a bunch of new things to find out who you really are and then you make an educated decision as to who you really are? No, that is a lie, a goddamned lie."

I find it hard to believe that others out there, gay, bi, trans..anyone who is different in any way hasn't wondered if their sexuality would be accepted by their family, friends, peers.
  
I love the way Frat Star has used metaphors to describe his journey (his first taste of alcohol, the organized chaos of a turbulent airplane ride). He also describes how an experiment with the same sex shouldn't relegate you to being gay. "You feel guilty as fuck and want to rip your guts out for being different. You look at your folks, who aren’t perfect, but see that they’re pretty happy with what they’ve got in life. You want that. You look at your girlfriend and see how dedicated she is to you. You want to give her that back. You look at your boys and see them running up and down the crease with you. You want to “defend this house” with them."
Has no one out there looked around the plane wondering if they're going to survive the flight only to see the different reactions on board..from the calm seasoned traveler to the frantic soccer Mom? It's almost impossible to explain to someone what it is like to be bi. Yet Frat Star's metaphor is ingeniousness in breaking that impossibility.

Frat understands that the bisexual population is a hidden "disease" of society.  Now you see "ED" commercials for Erectile Dysfunction (but more commonly known as people who can't get it up) or "IBS" for Irritable Bowel Syndrome (or people who shit their pants) - all previously little discussed embarrassing conditions. But, being bi still is a pox on society..one that no one wants to admit much less discuss. That keeps our group searching for relief in bookstores, glory-holes, bathrooms and on line. It makes the foot tapping of a Senator in a bathroom headline news in America. As Frat Star says: "It’s the most complicated form of sexuality because there aren’t any firm rules about sex in our own minds. We aren’t completely straight nor are we gay. Instead bi kids fall somewhere in an uncomfortable middle and that is where the criticism begins."

Why is Frat's piece so important? Because, coming from a young man, it defines the mentality of a confused young man with amazing preciseness:
 

"Being bisexual is not like a menstruation cycle, as some people would suggest, where I’m a “normal” kid for 29 days and then on the 30^th I turn into a “faggot.” This is not a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde situation. Nor is it because I have a hyperactive sex drive and my promiscuity just overflows from girls into dudes. The problem with bisexual kids is that they value the person and they derive their sexual attraction from their individual connection with a person. Instead of lumping our emotional and sexual attractions together, they are entirely separate. Our penis may lead one way and our heart may lead the other. Society hates this. They want to tell us that we’re wrong because they don’t understand how we work. This is the worst thing possible for young male bisexuals, because they can’t fight back against an ingrained system. No wonder identifying as bisexual is a terrifying prospect for most young men."

Does Frat Star make mistakes? Yes, we all do, except of course the pious Anonymous criticizers of my blog who are impervious to human imperfections. Will he piss off some with his assertive, self-confidence? Absolutely. But, again, he's a young, smart, handsome, alpha male. It's funny, despite his bravado, ultimately, he wants what you want, what we all want: acceptance and internal peace.

Frat's chosen a side even though he doesn't conform with the majority. After some confusion about his sexuality, he now says he's gay, even though his wardrobe doesn't contain fuchsia. Even though going to the Gay Pride parade in a boa and bikini isn't in his future. He breaks the mold of what society deems "gay" by being himself and for that realization we should all be thankful. Because being bisexual, being gay, being a lesbian, being a transgender..cannot be defined in a pretty little box. Sexuality isn't always as clear as a check box on a census form.

That's why I love Frat Star because when I was young I was like him. Yes, a little arrogant but still confused. Thankfully he's intelligent enough to choose a better path for his life than me.  That doesn't mean we still don't have commonalities. He's traveled a rocky path and most likely hasn't reached his ultimate destination. He should be lauded for sharing his feelings and thoughts here on my blog.

I'm thankful that he has expressed himself here, despite the animosity some of you have laid on him for exposing himself and for showing us his vulnerable side. Yes, some of you are no better than the bullies that you despise.  I for one am happy that I can count Frat Star as a colleague, a friend and more importantly,  Bi Like Me.

Frat Star Friday: The Bisexual Manifesto

I asked Frat Star to re-publish a post he had written for his previous blog. It's what  made me realize what a great writer he was and also, how amazing he was at explaining things..how we feel..how bi guys are.
Next week, he will continue with his post on 'Bro Dating'.

So, without further adue --

The Most Important Post You'll Read All Year

My name is X, and I am twenty-one years old. I have dirty blonde hair and green eyes. I’m 6’3 and weigh 197 pounds, but I’m trying to get in better shape… not that I’m fat or anything. I’m a junior in college. My major is philosophy. I think it’s cool.  Like most other college students, I drink alcohol and smoke marijuana socially. I’ve got a crew of a few good friends that I chill with at school. We typically shoot the shit about girls, sports and life in general but on Mondays we play backyard football in an intramural league. I like to think I’m pretty well liked. Overall, if you met me you’d think that I was the average college kid. As a matter of fact, if you saw me walking down fraternity row, you wouldn’t think twice about me. Maybe if you were a dude I’d met at a party you’d awkwardly tilt your head up in acknowledgement, or if you were a girl – hopefully a cute one – you might smile and say hello but otherwise I’m a small cog in the big social machine that is college.

I’ve given you a lot of background to describe who I am because it takes a lot to admit the skeletons in your closet, so here it goes: I’m bisexual. Oh, you’re surprised? Yeah, I’m sure you are. I’ve cultivated every single aspect of my personality to hide this one small fact from civilization, even my parents. If I came out publicly my old man would die of shame – his old army buddies wouldn’t approve – while my mom would encourage me to buy some queer condo in a rapidly gentrifying neighborhood so I could live with my "life partner." Screw that. What happened to the good old college try? Isn’t college supposed to be the time where you make mistakes, where you experience new emotions and feelings, where you try on a bunch of new things to find out who you really are and then you make an educated decision as to who you really are? No, that is a lie, a goddamned lie. Maybe it’s true if you operate as one of the cogs in the big machine and change your major from Economics (I can still see my mom saying this: "Oh honey, it’ll be good for your career! Think of grad school!") to something obscure like Egyptology, Urban Planning or whatever major Brown University is offering to their students these days. Not that I go to Brown, but I don’t know of another school that offers stuff like Aramaic. But if you really want to break the mold, if you really want to challenge thousands of years of societal constructs, that’s all nonsense. Case in point: I know a kid who experimented with a total fag who ratted him out and now he’s a walking pariah. Frankly, I’m surprised he hasn’t been dragged out of my dorm into the Student Union and ritually stoned by my peers. One of my best friends is quasi-dating one of his teammates right now at a large Southern university. Shit, if those good old boys ever found out that two varsity players were fucking around I think they’d ritually burn them on the Quad.

 
Now that I’ve explained all of that to you, I’d imagine that you’d try and console me. After all, this is the twenty first century and homosexuals are accepted in society now. But I’m not gay as far as I know. Hell, I haven’t even confirmed that I have a solid identity. I like pussy. As a matter of fact, I like pussy a lot thank you very much. I just tried something – an impulse like an itch you want to scratch – and now I’m automatically relegated to being gay. Sometimes people try things, don’t like them at first, and then love them later. Sometimes people try things, like them at first, and then hate them up later. Let me give you an example. I remember waking up really early one day when I was just a pup, it was probably like six in the morning, and I was really bored. My old man was asleep, so I started looking around the house for my mom. I don’t really remember what the hell I was trying to accomplish, but I just wanted to see her I guess. The night before my folks had a Christmas party where my dad invited a bunch of managers from work – he used to run a fancy department in downtown Baltimore before it shut down – and my folks got into a fight and I suppose he just passed out after from all the liquor he put down. I guess they were having some problems at the time, like all couples have eventually, but she offered to give me a sip of what was champagne. I just thought it was so gross, but now if you give me a nice cold brew I’ll slam that shit down like the next guy. That was an eventual progression. Just because I tried something doesn’t mean I identify with it, or that it consumes my life. It also doesn’t mean that I can’t restrain myself – I’m not a fucking alcoholic because I have self-control. Too many people don’t have enough self-control or will power these days.

So why make a judgment call about me if I myself am not sure who I am or, to relate back to the story, what I like. Can’t I like both? Is there something inherently wrong, or immoral about that? Even the Catechism (mom sent me off to college with it) says that having homosexual feelings are not a crime, but that the act is reprehensible. Isn’t any premarital sex reprehensible though? I’ve bagged a few girls in my time, so haven’t I already had my fair share of mortal sins? Why is this mortal sin worse than the others? It’s not, and it shouldn’t be. I’ve taken myself out of communion with God while having sex in a relationship as well as in a number of one night stands, so what makes this one act worse than any other? If I lust after the image of a lingerie model on a billboard, why does society seek to judge me if I were to do the same to a man? These are the frustrating questions that I ask myself to no avail.

You can’t explain a homosexual encounter between bisexual kids to someone who is heterosexual. Likewise, you can’t explain it to a confirmed homosexual because more often than not he was destined to be gay. Most guys who are openly gay in college fall into your typical swishy stereotype. It’s actually kind of funny in a way, because in high schools across the nation there are flaming gay kids in every drama class from California to New York who haven’t publically announced their sexuality – however obvious it may be – and these are the kids who you know are gay in college. They can’t hide behind a persona, because they can’t help themselves. It’s in their nature to act in a certain way, just like birds fly or wolves hunt. But if you take a look at a freak sexual encounter amongst two curious parties, it’s very different. Actually, it’s completely different because you aren’t going for the guy like you are for the girl; with that dude it’s all about bonding. Nowadays in television, you’ll see a whole genre of "bromance" films about how guys form a tight bond where they proclaim their love for each other. But what happens when these bonds are so strong that you can do anything together? That’s when society runs out of answers, because authentic real men aren’t supposed to make any sort of advance because that would throw off the whole heterosexual male bonding process. Men can get close to a certain level, but then the majority of the time they’ll back off because they wouldn’t have any interest in men; those guys want to solely function as your closest crew in good times and bad. But maybe you’ll bond with someone over the years, grow up with them, fight "enemy" football teams on gridirons and sweat and bleed with them. What do you do when you develop that certain level of intimacy, one that’s inherently different from that of a girl?

 
Short answer: you panic. You feel guilty as fuck and want to rip your guts out for being different. You look at your folks, who aren’t perfect, but see that they’re pretty happy with what they’ve got in life. You want that. You look at your girlfriend and see how dedicated she is to you. You want to give her that back. You look at your boys and see them running up and down the crease with you. You want to "defend this house" with them. For an athletic, masculine bisexual kid life is not easy especially when you’re young. Your first taste of masculinity is like opening Pandora’s Box, letting in a tide of emotions. I know exactly how to describe it too, I think. You ever taken a flight on an airplane? I took a really bad one once when the weather was shitty outside and you could barely stand up in the wind outside the terminal. You’re in this steel thing that by all common logic shouldn’t be able to move an inch let alone get up in the air, and its bouncing around like crazy while you hold onto the armrests in your seat. You pray for the flight to just end or for the plane to land, but you realize with terror that you’re just going to have to stick it out through every air pocket and every lump. You look around you and there’s a pretty mixed reaction with your fellow passengers. That businessman in the suit is just reading his copy of the Wall Street Journal minding his own business. He’s been through this before. The lady next to you, she looks very nice, is freaking out nearly as much as you are. Things are falling apart, yet very controlled. That’s what it feels like to be bisexual: organized chaos. And as every sportsman knows, from chaos comes victory. But your victories, however sweet, will always be short. Look at the Olympics: athletes train for years in order to get 30 seconds on international television and a little piece of metal on some fucked silk string.  

I remember the first time I really fucked around with a dude. In lower school, I had compared with a guy but that’s like saying I held some chick’s hand. Later I jerked off once or twice with some buddies while watching softcore porn but we had the lights dimmed and mountains of pillows in between us because somehow that was "less gay." Those times were nothing in comparison to my first real experience. His name was Jack. He was two grades older, and therefore much cooler than me. We were at a house party and we both had shot-gunned a ton of brews. We hit on every piece of pussy in the room but no girl was feeling either of us that night. "Fucking sluts," we kept saying in a slurred unison, a thought that was ironic at the time given that most of the girls we knew hadn’t even given their long-term boyfriends a blowie yet.

Soon it was time to break the seal. Now if you’re a guy, regardless of your sexual orientation, you’ll know how satisfying a group piss can be. Drunk group pissing ranks up there with good shits, late-night 3-o-clock "chill seshes" and that feeling that you’re the man because that cute girl with light eyes laughs at your shitty jokes. During that bro piss I caught a glimpse of the head of his dick. It looked soft, like girl skin, and I stiffened a little bit. My pulse quickened. Sometime during that moment we crossed a boundary that society tells us we shouldn’t and we got hard. Hooking up with Jack was instinctive, like drinking, eating or sleeping. This isn’t an erotic story so I’m going to save you the details – sorry – but we did shit together. It was fun. That’s all you need to know and that’s a part of the problem: bisexual guys are quiet about their activities. 

There are a lot of reasons for discretion when you’re male and bi. Part of it is that people will look at you differently. Sure, there are kids who are bi and make it work, but they tend to be cut from a different cloth than a lot of other bi kids. The discreet and quiet bisexual guys are one of the most underrepresented groups in America today. We’re the silent majority, yet no two of us are exactly alike. It’s sort of like snow: each snowflake is different but it’s still fucking snow. We view our sexuality from a "straight" standpoint – there is nothing different in between us bisexuals and our friends except that we sometimes fuck around with people of the same sex. Big damn deal. I like it that way. It’s simple. I don’t want to be "different" I just want to be true to who I am. As bisexuals, we want to keep dating girls, but we also want to get around with guys. It’s the most complicated form of sexuality because there aren’t any firm rules about sex in our own minds. We aren’t completely straight nor are we gay. Instead bi kids fall somewhere in an uncomfortable middle and that is where the criticism begins.

People are afraid of what they don’t know. Like a little kid wondering through the steep staircase of a dark house at night, bisexuality is scary for people to comprehend because there is no firm definition. Even worse, society makes broad assumptions based on individual groups. The problem is that we aren’t a sub-set; we’re an individual brand. Being bisexual is not like a menstruation cycle, as some people would suggest, where I’m a "normal" kid for 29 days and then on the 30^th I turn into a "faggot." This is not a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde situation. Nor is it because I have a hyperactive sex drive and my promiscuity just overflows from girls into dudes. The problem with bisexual kids is that they value the person and they derive their sexual attraction from their individual connection with a person. Instead of lumping our emotional and sexual attractions together, they are entirely separate. Our penis may lead one way and our heart may lead the other. Society hates this. They want to tell us that we’re wrong because they don’t understand how we work. This is the worst thing possible for young male bisexuals, because they can’t fight back against an ingrained system. No wonder identifying as bisexual is a terrifying prospect for most young men.

The straight community operates in large generalizations. The general public expects young men to chase after young women with vigor while acknowledging the mere existence of the homosexual community. Straight people are unable to fully understand the homosexual community for a variety of reasons that range from cultural differences to sexual preference but they realize that they exist by a simple generalization: gay people like men. There is no black and white. Like the "one-drop" race rule of the Old South, any person who commits a homosexual act is automatically linked as gay in the mind of most heterosexual people. The homosexual community is even less accepting of bisexuality than the straight community and many falsely view bisexuals as being in the closet. Bisexuals who want to come out therefore can’t escape a torrent of criticism from both sides of the sexual spectrum and therefore stay deep in the closet, where it is safe emotionally, mentally and physically.

There is no easy way for any bisexual to come out of the closet. Like any minority – and let me take a moment to make this crystal clear, we are an oppressed minority – there must be a first generation to break boundaries. We undoubtedly owe a large debt to our homosexual cousins who first shattered the sexuality barrier in 1969 during the Stonewall Riots. Unlike homosexuals, however, I feel that the bisexual community has made relatively little progress. Rather than being seen as equals, we are instead categorized in various ways: cowards, frauds, homophobes and perverts are all words used to describe bisexuals. In 2005, the New York Times published an article claiming that bisexuals were all simply homosexuals in denial. There has still been no rebuttal. No wonder so many of us are still so reticent to discuss our sexuality let alone publicly disclose it. Yet one day I hope to come out of the closet. And sometime afterwards - perhaps years or perhaps decades - I hope to hear someone say:

A: "That's X. He's bisexual."

B: "Who the fuck cares."

My name is X. And I am a bisexual alpha male.

Breath in the Air

I'm here. Yes, I've survived...and continue to. I'm not unlike a lot of people. I get down, some days - real down. But, I think a majority of people get that way sometimes. Yet, the sun does come up, and I am still breathing, fighting.

I often have wondered if I have some sort of clinical depression. But, I seem to think that in life, it's the natural ebb and flow of emotions. Most days, I'm not that down..and I'm hardly ever that up. I'm pretty even keel. But, pile a birthday, onto some family issue, onto a Ross incident, onto a bad day at work and I'm 6 feet from the edge.

Why do I write about it? Because..because I want everyone to know that being sad..being depressed is normal. That I know others out there feel the same way some days..but, we fight..we get passed it - it is possible to get over it. I appreciate all your thoughts and comments.

Today I move forward but, some days, I think maybe 6 feet ain't so far down.

Hump Day: Anton

23 year old Anton Gazenbeek from New York City

'Ole Reliable

I receive a lot of emails as you can imagine. I love getting them, even though most of the time, I just don't have the time to respond. But I do read them.

The general theme of the emails is that people like the blog. That they feel a sense of relief that "they are not alone" and that someone else out there has the same feelings/issues/problems that they do. It makes writing my blog even more fulfilling for me.

I've got some what of a streak going too. Some guys have been reading my blog since the beginning and I recognize their screen names as "lifers" - those that were the first followers or readers of my blog. Some are new to it..and that's great too. What most people say about my blog? That no matter what the day, what the weather..no matter how much I may get bashed by some out there..that I'm always there for them...that every day, they get to take a peek into my life and read something. I've become 'ole reliable.

That makes me happy that people can check in on me every weekday, that some start their day with me, right next to the cup of coffee on their desk. Makes me want to continue this blog..day in and day out.

Thanks for the comments guys and the support you provide me..and like today and every day before it...I'll be here tomorrow...as they say:

"We'll leave the light on for ya."

Spiraling

I'm trying to keep things in check, but it's been coming on for days. Guess it could be the whole birthday thing, maybe mixed in with the Ross thing..or that I have no guy prospects right now.


I'm spiraling downward..down to the dark place, again.  I'm trying to keep busy, but, being happy is just not in the cards.


I'm thinking maybe..finally..therapy may be in order. But, where to start? How to find someone..someone reasonably priced (or free) who I can feel comfortable with, confide in. I mean, when I tell someone that I've been cheating on my wife, with guys..isn't the ultimate destination going to be to express those feelings to my wife? To make a decision? Isn't that where it will ultimately head? I don't want that.

But, meeting with someone, who I cannot tell this part of me, seems fruitless. I can picture myself saying:

"I'm sad, depressed, unhappy all the time. Don't find happiness in anything."
Then his response: "Why?"
"Well.. I can't tell you why..it's a secret."

That simply won't work.

I'd love to find someone to spill my guts to..unfortunately..right now, I'm being literal.

Frat Star Friday: Yo It's Me

Hi, I’m Frat Star.

I’m in my early 20s and, in order to spread my unbound wisdom to a lot of young guys in a similar position, I’ll be writing “Frat Star Fridays!” (yeah, the exclamation point is a little faggy but whatever, I’m real excited about this) on BiLikeMe from now on. I’m a great guy, so I thought I’d tell you a little about myself:

 

•  My charm is so contagious, that vaccines have been created for it
•   Every time I go for a swim, dolphins appear.
•    My hands feel like rich, brown suede
•   When it is raining, it is because I’m thinking about something sad
•   My blood smells like cologne
•   My organ donor card also lists my beard scruff
•   I live vicariously through myself
•   My lacrosse stick is fused to my body
•    I have a large penis and I used to make girls scream

Now that I’ve introduced myself to you, feel free to hit me up with any comments, compliments or questions (complaints too, I guess) at wsa215@gmail.com.

Courage, Divorce and Happiness: Why You Should Come Out of the Closet If You’re Unmarried and Like Cock

A lot of the guys who read my former blog have emailed me telling me about their problems. Typically, the story goes something like this:

“Hey Frat Star – Just wanted to drop you a line to let you know that I love your stuff. I’m [18-25], in a serious relationship with a girl, attend [insert top 50 university here] but I keep fucking around with my [best friend/dog/fraternity brother/teammate]. I play [insert varsity sport here] and next year I’ll be working for [insert bulge bracket bank/white shoe law firm/McKinsey] but I’m hoping I can make things work. I like pussy but I just can’t get my friend’s dick out of my [mind/mouth]. Any suggestions?”

If you’re someone like that, then I have news for you: you should come out of the damn closet and accept the fact that you find penis highly enjoyable. It’s so enjoyable that you want one here. And here. And two there. And maybe fit one more in here. Even if you aren’t into group sex like me (eww?) and prefer your sex to be of the “one-on-one-I’m-basically-in-a-relationship-holy-shit-I-love-this-bro” style, you can’t say it’s not a hot fantasy. If you’re like me, namely, a former D1 athlete who is completely masculine and normal in every way, then you should come out of the closet.

Here’s why: I want you to imagine that in front of you stands your dream girl. She’s smoking hot – so hot that guys simultaneously curse and worship you when you hold her hand on the street – so kind that animals instantly love her, is smarter than you, she fucks you like a porn star all day and her father is richer than Crassus. You might be able to fuck her well for a few years, but what happens when dick is just calling you? It’s like crack. You have to get your cock fix. You find yourself uninterested in pussy and are pissy when she gets all dressed up in her little negligee for a trip to pound town. Are you cool with taking this girl out of the dating pool and spending the rest of your life with her?

Most dudes get married and don’t quite understand the concept of forever. Marriage is one of those things that should be, if you’ve done it right, forever.  It’s where you can find a pretty girl, she gets mauled by a pack of dogs, and you don’t give a shit how she looks. Now, what happens if you enter into a marriage with the best intentions but you feel that it’s not working? There are two scenarios here:

a        Bro, you married a bitch and the wrong woman and you have to get out of here.

b       You are gay as hell, and no matter how many times you get married; there is no resolution to your problem except to find an awesome guy

See, the ideal marriage is like a dance floor. You lead the girl but the two partners are equal. You come up with a plan, and she tells you honestly how she feels about it. You guys are a team. Sometimes you guys will be in total concurrence. Other times, she’ll make suggestions. When you’re an asshole, she’ll tell you go to fuck yourself because you need an attitude adjustment. Other times, you’ll do the same to her. Either way at the end of the day, you guys are a great couple. That’s a good marriage. There’s a lot of dirty fucking, honesty and trust. Don’t tell me that I’m being an idealist or that chicks use sex as a weapon, because I know a lot of cases where that’s the complete opposite. If you want to get married, you have to be a real man.

Marriage vows have existed for nearly as long as Christianity itself, and the reason they’re such a longstanding tradition is because they work. If you can’t fulfill those vows (can you really give yourself to your partner when you’re looking at your best man and hoping he takes his shirt off and makes you a bitch bottom?) then you shouldn’t get married. Save yourself the pain and heartache. Is that not enough for you? Then let me give you a few other things to convince you to come out:

Reason One: Divorce

The first big word that I learned growing up was “prenuptial”, primarily because my father was consistently furious that he never thought to get one. Statistically speaking, if you’re reading this blog, you’re probably from one of the five largest states in the country: California, Texas, New York, Florida and Illinois. With the exception of Texas, I can promise you something right now:

Your now ex-wife, especially if she ever catches you with dudes, will literally own your ass for the next thirty years. That means, when you start making bank when you’re in your late 30s, and you get divorced after being married for five years, she will take, at minimum, half of your paycheck until you fucking die. Want to buy your dream house after a divorce? Good luck, kid. If you marry the wrong woman, she will literally go into a court of law and proceed to beg, cry and scream as if she was a professionally trained actress in order to vindictively fuck you. Her lawyers will look into every nook and cranny of your life in order to suck you of every cent that the State of California/Florida/Illinois/New York will allow in order to cause you the direst pain possible. Have grindr on your phone? Don’t think that lawyers can’t access phone records, purchases, et. al. in order to prove to a sympathetic judge that you’re the biggest piece of shit on the planet. Been married for more than ten years? Did you ever once lie about the most insignificant thing in your prenuptial? You, sir, are fucked, because the judge will have zero hesitation to throw it out and let you rot. This process will last, at minimum, one year if you are incredibly lucky. Other divorces have gone on for ten years with the man having virtually no visitation rights to his children. That’s right: the courts will actually take your fucking kids away from you if her lawyers are good enough. Oh, and before I forget, also remember this: white-shoe family lawyers who represent high net-worth males can charge up to 25% more than they do for female clients because defending you is so difficult.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

Don’t enter into a bad marriage. This especially applies to you if you’ve ever had a dick in your mouth. If you feel like your marriage is about to fail, go rent a house in Texas and initiate divorce proceedings there. If you’re a European reader, the best place to get divorced is Germany, followed by (surprisingly) France. The worst place, by far, is the United Kingdom.

Reason Two: Happiness

Let’s flip the coin here for a moment and imagine that you’ve decided to heed my advice. I’d say there’s no rush to actually come out to your parents if you’re young until you’ve met someone and the interim gives you some time to steel your resolve, play the field, and learn who your true friends are. I am, by far, a much stronger person now than I was six months ago even though while coming out I was a blackout, emotional, hot mess of a person. You won’t ever have to look behind your shoulder or to rush your hookup because you feel there’s a huge risk of getting caught. To your surprise, you’ll actually find out that people don’t really care if you’re gay. You’re still the same old kid they knew and loved. Your straight friends will actually like you better because now you can spit game at chicks, tell them you’re gay, and move them onto your friends. I’ve literally hooked up six couples this past term alone.

There’s nothing quite like being yourself. If you buck the gay stereotype, like I do, people will respect you immensely. Want to know what a great day looks like if you’re out and gay? This was a little “date” that I went on this past weekend with a guy who I’m just friends with now – we decided it’s not going to work out ultimately – but we had a great time:

I woke up at 9:15AM and got showered. I texted him to see what was going on and he had nothing planned for the day, so I walked over to the apartment where he was staying. We made out on his couch for a little while watching a movie, and then we went down to the Frick because he found the entire concept of a huge mansion on Fifth Avenue to be really cool. Then we walked across Central Park laughing about everything, standing close to one another and when I felt his body heat only a few inches away from me I felt like I won the lottery. We went over to my Mom’s place, chilled for about thirty minutes with her and went downtown so we could go to church at Saint Luke’s in the Fields for New Year’s Day. Then we went to Chelsea Market nearby and had lunch. Then we went and smoked a blunt with some friends of mine in Tribeca and went to a bar with them to watch the Miami Dolphins crush the New York Jets. This was the worst part of my day. Then we had dinner at this beer garden so we could watch more football. Finally, we decided to go to a gay bar – the Stonewall Inn – because neither of us had ever been to a gay bar. At Stonewall, we both got kinda felt up by the bartender (“Oh, sweetie, you can come back any time.”) who was wondering what the fuck these two jocks were doing sitting quietly in the back room, but we laughed it off. Then we tried to go to this bar called “The Cock” because I’d always wanted to go since it has a rep for being very degenerate, but there was a $10 cover charge and neither of us wanted to pay it.

After that day, I was so relaxed it was as if someone had blown me for a 12-hour period while getting a massage. That’s happiness. You’re only going to get it if you do you.

Reason Three: Courage

Everyone hates a pussy.

Remember back for a second when you were playing sports either in high school or college. Do you recall that guy that just kept letting the team down? Who couldn’t get his shit together or fumbled the ball on the gridiron? Who couldn’t protect this house if it killed him?

Don’t be that guy.

Part of being a real man is being a real person. Coming out is a shitty process, but even my most conservative friends have rallied behind me like a rock. I was actually scared to tell my one buddy who’s presently a company-grade officer in the Marines, but lo and behold he was actually really psyched for me and he’s trying to hook me up with a young second lieutenant with a body made of steel in his company. This dude is just all kinds of awesome and smoking hot.

You know that guy you always wanted to hook up with? You can get him, but you have to be out in order to do so. You’d be shocked at how many dudes will rally behind you as if you’re leading the second coming of Christ to find you a masculine guy. All of a sudden, you’re now the “cool gay bro” and people want to hear your advice and ask you to hook them up with chicks. They’ll find you gay varsity athletes in return. However, you can’t do shit if you aren’t out. I’m not talking about a hookup here either; I’m talking about some serious life shit.

Don’t be that guy who’s scared of his own shadow if he gets exposed. Get out of the closet, I swear to everything that’s sacred that it’s not at all terrible, and don’t be a fucking pussy or I’ll just hate on you. The only way that normal gay dudes are going to be accepted is if they exist. When people tell me that they’re shocked that I’m gay, I consider it to be the highest compliment because you’re just like everyone else.

I’m Frat Star, and this is my advice for people who are young, scared and trying to figure out their sexuality. Next week? Bro dating.