Sometimes I'm Attracted to Men

Sometimes I'm attracted to other men. I look at their penises and their buttocks, their shoulders and their eyes. I think sometimes I even look into their faces with longing. And then I feel terribly ashamed of myself, confused and inhibited.

Is there something that I want to do? Of course there is! I would like to start a conversation with them in the same way that I would with a woman who catches my eye, to see if they're interested in me too. But I never do. I don't want anyone to know that I am bisexual, that I feel a sexual attraction to men as well as to women.

It's socially acceptable to be good friends with men, to share intimacies, to hug and even to kiss on the cheek. I've done everything with men that I've done with women, except French kiss with them and have sex with them.

Well, there have been a few exceptions. The first time I ejaculated, I was dry humping my best friend, a boy, when we were about twelve years old. It felt so good! It was exactly what I wanted to be doing at that moment, and it really was an intimacy that we shared.

Except that when I ejaculated (something he hadn't experienced yet), he said, "What was that?" A moment later when I still hadn't released him, when I was drawing out that moment of physical ecstasy, he said, "You can get off me, now."

Maybe it really wasn't an intimacy. Maybe neither of us knew exactly what we were doing and what would come of it. He didn't seek me out for more afterward.

But I continued to seek out other boys for a while. Sometimes, my brother and I would camp out in the back yard with our friends. I looked forward to this, because I wanted to engage in some sex acts with my best friend, who would be among us. But, he refused, everyone found out, and I was embarrassed and ashamed.

When I told my brother that another boy had sucked my dick during a sleep-over, he was aghast, nearly speechless, and he ridiculed me. He thought he was better than me because I liked other boys and he didn't.

I also liked girls. Even before I ejaculated with my best boy friend, I had engaged in other sex with my best girl friend, inviting her into my garage, holding her close to me, grinding and rubbing her ass. Again it felt SO good.

But, I also liked to rub her brother's ass almost as much, and have him rub mine. I invented games in which all of this would occur, until their mother found out and forbade them absolutely to have any further contact with me at all. I was a pervert. "Pervert" is a word we don't use as often now. But back then everyone knew what a "pervert" was, including me. I wasn't supposed to be doing what I was doing, and I wasn't supposed to want to be doing what I was doing.

Once, my best friend's father caught my friend and me in bed, naked, "fooling around." "You pig," he said to my best friend, and then my friend went crying to his mother and said, "Daddy called me a pig!" He didn't understand, but I did. By his father's inference, I was a "pig" in his eyes, too.

So, when another little friend, old enough to want to experiment, asked to engage in child sex play with him, I gently refused. I had decided that there was just too much repression of homosexuality for it to be worth choosing to express physically my attraction to boys. I went underground, and I have been underground ever since. What was pleasurable once is now forbidden.

But, I still look at men's buttocks and their penises, their hair and cheeks thighs. I look into their eyes and I wonder about the sexual intimacy I've missed over the last decades, since repression and expediency drove my desires into hiding.