Straight

by Seth King

  Hey guys. So. Long story short, I’m straight, and I met a guy on the bus. And I think I like him. But the thing is, I really did think I was straight until now. I’m pretty sure I’m not a closet case, and I’m not some self-hating homophobe, either – I just happen to have only liked girls in the past. I’ve really enjoyed dating them, actually, and before him I can’t recall ever thinking or feeling or even noticing guys. It never even crossed my mind that this could be possible. But I might be a goner for this kid, and it’s caught me totally off guard. He makes me dizzy and nervous and giddy, and all the signs of infatuation are there – except, he’s a dude. Obviously I have no idea where to go from here. Any advice?

  -confusedGAdude

  The first few responses that come in are positive, but boring. They’re full of hearts-and-flowers statements like “Love is love!!!” and “Aw, so cute!!!!,” but no real insight can be found anywhere. In fact, it almost makes me feel like a puppy dog or something, like they’re objectifying my sudden gay feelings. Aw, look at the cute little gays, look at them being adorable! Then someone chimes in who actually has something to throw in:

  Hey confused,

  Interesting case. What you’re feeling is what you’re feeling. All the questioning in the world cannot change what you feel inside, and you seem to have real feelings for this guy. Let it happen and forget about the rest. It could be a “guy crush,” and it could be more. Who knows? Only time will reveal the truth.

  I’m just starting to send a thank-you message when a new comment pops up:

  Good luck. You’ll need it.

  I put my fingers to the keyboard before I let the commenter get away.

  Why? I ask.

  Bisexuality with guys is just a slippery slope, he says soon. A hard path to navigate. Girls are allowed to be bisexual and sexually adventurous, gender-wise. When they make out at bars or parties, they’re the hot, sexy chicks who are down for anything and love a good time. But a GUY who discovers he’s suddenly bi is usually called “confused” and “misguided” and “just trying to hide his homosexuality.” Good luck…

  I frown at his response, then type my own:

  I never said the word “bisexual.” That’s simple-minded. What if I don’t want to choose? Why can’t I just be a dude with a boyfriend? Why label it?

  His reply comes within sixty seconds:

  It’s cute, that you’re this naïve, LOL. You can be “straight with a boyfriend” in your own mind. But to the rest of the world, you will be a homo.

  I slam my laptop shut so hard, I have to open it again to make sure I didn’t crack the screen. I don’t care about this stranger and his opinion. I kind of like Ty Stanton, and that’s all I care about. He is a merry-go-round and I don’t want to get off yet. And obviously there’s nothing wrong with being “homo,” as he put it, but why do we have to categorize ourselves in the first place? Why does anyone care? Why do I have to pick a lane already?

  As I get ready to leave, my phone pings with an email, notifying me that someone named Nancy1919 has commented my post. Fuck the world, and fuck what they think, she says. Go for it. Do you.

  And so that’s exactly what I do. I go for Ty Stanton.

  Come over, I text Ty, feeling buzzed and exhilarated and also a little lonely.

  When?

  Now.

  Now?

  Now, I repeat.

  Okay. Getting in shower. I’ll be over soon.

  I tidy up my room, my mind spinning and crackling. I don’t want this to feel like a hookup thing, but I already can’t stop thinking about him. I’m like a drunk who just stumbled into a dive bar. And my feelings for him might confuse me, but I didn’t go twenty-five years without tasting a penis just to wait any longer…

  Taste a penis. Yes, that’s what I want to do today, and I can’t believe it. But I decided last night when I woke up into pitch-blackness: that’s what I want. I want to suck him more than I’ve ever wanted anything before.

  My bell rings. Struck by some strange dose of bravery, I open the door in my boxer-briefs. He’s in his ripped black jeans and a Millencolin T-shirt (a punk band from the 90s), and a tangle of necklaces I haven’t seen before. His hair has an icy purple highlight, too. His eyes go large as he looks down at me. “Oh, um, hey…”

  I slump. “Is this too much?”

  Finally he meets my eyes. “Not at all. It’s just that…I thought you were straight, remember?”

  I step forward, already hard. “So did I. But let’s take a shower together to do some more investigating. You down?”

  “More than down. I’m up.”

  We fall into my downstairs shower in a tangle of legs and kisses and cast-aside items of clothing. When we’re naked, pressing our chests and our dicks together, I feel like I’m in a very bizarre form of earthly heaven. We’ve already been sucked back into the little world that bloomed between us last time, and I love every second of it.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I just couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

  “Dude, aren’t you getting it?”

  “What?”

  “That’s the beauty of talking to another dude – you can have all the sex you want. I’m just as horny as you are – I’m wired the same way. But…if we have three sexy meet-ups in a row, I might start to get concerned. You’ve gotta break it up a bit.”

  I laugh and devour his lips with mine.

  “What was your favorite thing to do with girls?” he asks, pulling away.

  “Lick them out,” I say without hesitation. “I could do it for hours. Why?”

  “Because I want to keep things familiar for you, at first. And okay, that is so hot.”

  “Really? Can I do it to you?”

  His eyes light up. “I mean, if I must…”

  He rests himself on the shower bench, opens his legs, and grabs my hair as I move closer and closer. It looks…clean, and pink, and small, and appealing. Kind of like a vagina, actually. Damn, this kid is hot.

  I close my eyes, then open them again. I can’t believe I’m about to do this, but then again…I can. I knew from the moment he’d come here, tattooed and sexy and adorable, that I would push my own boundaries.

  My mouth hits skin. It tastes sweet, and he lets out a moan. I try not to think about the fact that my face is inches away from a penis, my biggest fear, as I get to work, rolling my tongue, wandering around, getting accustomed to him. The next few minutes are a succession of louder and louder moans until I’m afraid my neighbors will call someone on us.

  “Holy…” he says when I stop, just before he orgasms, his body tense.

  “Shit,” I finish for him. “Wow. I can’t believe I was missing out on that. What was I thinking?”

  “Jesus,” he breathes. “Neither can I. Can I rewind my life so I could meet you, like, five years ago? Just for the sex alone?”

  I grab his hand, mixing up my fingers with his. “Nah. Earlier than that. Five years isn’t enough for me.”

  “God,” he sighs, staring down at me.

  “What?”

  “You’re just perfect. What next?”

  “I want to feel it, too.”

  “Feel what?”

  “Your tongue between my legs.”

  “Oh, shit…”

  Gently, he pushes me against the wall of the shower, then spreads my legs apart a little. “You ready?” he asks, and I nod, my back to him. I feel his chin stubble make contact with my ass cheeks, and then – and then. He spreads my ass and buries his face in me, and what I feel next is unlike anything I ever expected – his tongue migrates over my hole, around and around again, and it feels like being kissed by an angel. Nobody has ever even touched this spot on me before, and I never knew it could feel like this – it’s a thousand times more sensitive and responsive than I ever expected. He pushes his tongue inside a little, making me throb so hard I think I’m about to orgasm…

  “I want it,” I say, turning around at once and grabbing at his cock. “I’m ready.”
<
br />   He stops and stares up at me. “You want to bow me? You sure? I don’t want to rush you or-”

  “I want it.”

  He sits back against the shower again, his dick standing at attention deliciously. I stare at it. It’s still so strange to see a dick in this way, something I’d faced a million times in the past, swinging around after football practice in the showers. But now it’s headed straight for my mouth. I’d never even glanced at one before, or even thought about it. But the strangest part is that the sight of it is making me want to do some filthy things, ASAP.

  So I creep forward and put my lips on the tip. It makes me go even harder than I was before: it feels soft, but velvety somehow, and he’s seeping something warm and salty that tastes like how pheromones smell. He moans and tenses up, his fingers tugging on my hair, and I started exploring with my tongue, and kissing sometimes, too. It tastes interesting and salty and…well, like skin, really. But somehow it all combines to make me crazy.

  I start exploring more aggressively, and I can tell I hurt him a few times with my teeth.

  “Sorry – learning curve,” I say. I pull back, then try again, trying to mimic the way my ex-girlfriends used to do this to me. And really, as I continue sucking him, I find I enjoy it more and more. It explodes by the minute. The texture as I go down the shaft is different and more rugged, but just as interesting. If anything, I consider this to be an educational experience. Soon he’s all the way down my throat, and I’m starting to gag. I feel full of him, like he’s possessing me. And the sounds he’s making…

  I feel him pressing against the back of my throat and I choke a little – I like it, though. I like all of it, even the way his trimmed pubic hair is rubbing against my face. Holy shit – soon the desire overtakes me completely, this ferocious thing rising up from somewhere deep, and I take his entire shaft into my throat. All I want in this moment is to serve him, to please him, to make his dick my own. I’ve never felt like this – with girls, I just wanted to dominate them, and suddenly I feel a complete reversal. I take him deeper and deeper, like it’s a personal challenge, and then-

  Oops.

  I feel him twitch, then stiffen, then inhale – and then the very back of my mouth suddenly fills with a salty, gel-like substance with the consistency of paste. Without thinking twice of it, I swallow, just to get rid of it.

  “Jesus,” he pants, sliding back from under me.

  “What?”

  “You swallow? In the first few days? Did I win the lottery or something and not notice it?”

  I don’t know what he means. “Huh? Is that not a thing people do?”

  “If they’re nasty, they do…”

  “Oh,” I frown, still reveling in his aftertaste. “Did you not like it? Remember, I was straight. I don’t know these things…”

  He messes with my matted hair. “Henry, stop. It was the sexiest thing of my life. But I still think I should teach you my ways. We could have so much fun together.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. Let’s have some gay lessons. If you want to continue hanging out, that is?”

  “Of course I do. But…gay lessons?”

  We turn off the shower and start drying up, but I still can’t take my eyes off him. The way his back curves into his ass, the way his ass gives way to his strong, slim legs…Jesus.

  “Yeah. The gay world is different from the hetero world in every way – dating is different, sex is different, friendships are different, even the social life is a whole different ball game. I’ll start to bring you into my world as my friend, take you shopping, introduce you to the Real Housewives, maybe even take you to a gay bar. After that, you can decide if you want in or not.”

  Oh, trust me, I’m already all in. In more ways than one. “Sure, gay lessons sound amazing,” I say.

  “Fabulous,” he corrects. “A gay guy would say fabulous, not amazing. Well, maybe an older gay guy, but still – you’re getting closer.”

  “Well that’s just fabulous, then.”

  He leans forward and kisses me. My mouth still tastes like…him, and at first I’m self-conscious about it. I am also burning with desire about it, too.

  “How do you taste?” I ask.

  “Like salt. Let’s go before I make you do that again.”

  We head into my bedroom. He’s already getting more familiar with my house, and it makes me smile for some reason. “I have a question,” I say soon. “What does it feel like to have a finger inside you?”

  “That,” he laughs, “will be discovered later. I have to give you something to look forward to, don’t I?”

  ~

  Some time after our hookup – time just seems to bleed together with him – night descends, and we order two pizzas and pig out on my bed. When we’re full and sleepy, I clear my throat, my legs all wrapped in his. (Another thing I notice around him is that I want my hands to be on him at all times. He just makes me feel warmer. I was never like that with anyone before, which I chalked off to my distant father and his habit of never, ever hugging me.) “Okay, let’s start the lessons now. I have so many questions for you. About the whole…the whole gay thing.”

  He smiles that bright, self-assured smile I already sort of love. “Okay, sir, ask away.”

  “How long have you known?”

  “Always. I knew I was different from the first moment. I couldn’t just play with other boys on the playground – any close friendship would lead to a broken heart.”

  “Aw. Okay, and when did you…come out?”

  “Trust me, I was never ‘in.’ It was always just sort of accepted with me. I guess I was so gay I didn’t have to say anything. It was out in the open. I did have a moment where I went around and told a few of the last people, but they already knew.”

  “Okay. And what it’s like? The gay community?”

  He sighs up at the window. “It’s amazing. That’s the best part, having a little tribe. Gay people get to choose their families, and that’s like magic.”

  “How?”

  “In a place like Georgia, lots of gays are disowned, or maybe even homeless. A lot of people here don’t want a gay son or daughter in their house, so eventually you just find a new family. That’s what my friends are – my little family.”

  “Do you have any straight friends?”

  “Ehh,” he cringes, “I tried, but so many of them are so narrow-minded and stiff. And when I did try to meet up with some straight guys from high school, they’d go so out of their way trying to prove they were okay with me, they’d just make me feel like a freak. I remember this guy Anthony would drunkenly stumble to me every single time and loudly exclaim, ‘HEY, I JUST WANTED YOU TO KNOW I’M COOL WITH YOU BEING A GAY MAN, JUST FOR THE RECORD.’ Everyone would stop and stare, and all he’d do was put a sign on me that said I was different, and make me even more of an outsider.”

  “Yikes.”

  “I know – they can’t even treat me like I’m normal. But at least he does approve of me.”

  “Why do some other people hate you guys so much?”

  “Lots of reasons,” he shrugs. “God, politics, organized religion, just trying to stay with the status quo. Stupidity, mostly. And fear. But we’re not really that torn up over it. One hundred percent of the gays and lesbians I know have one thing in common: they’re resilient. They also just want to be left alone. When’s the last time you saw a bunch of gay guys picketing outside a courthouse, protesting against the rights of straight people to get married and be treated with respect?”

  “Good point.”

  “Yeah. And the ones you do see shouting at the rallies, they’re only doing it because they have to. The second you shut up is the second things can start to slide backwards. As we see lately…”

  “I know what you mean,” I say quietly. “Anyway, how many guys have you dated?”

  “I’ve had two serious boyfriends.”

  “Was it hard? To break up?”

  His eyes glaze over. “One of them, yes. I
still think about it sometimes. We tried to stay friends, but it’s awkward.”

  “You still talk?”

  “I mean, occasionally. We have this thing where we both meet up every Christmas Eve to get drunk together, since our families weren’t always supportive. We still go to Club One or Chuck’s Bar that night every year and get totally wasted. It didn’t work out, and it’s in the past. I enjoy his friendship, though.”

  Something is unsettling about this, but I try to move past it. “What kind of guys did you usually date?”

  “I usually like preppy ones. That’s probably what made me first look at you…”

  “Interesting. Is dating the same as with straight people?”

  “I wouldn’t know. But I hear we have a lot more sex. It’s just biology – dudes like to fuck more than girls do, right? Therefore, two guys in a relationship will have much more sex than they would if a female was involved.”

  “As I’m starting to learn.” I take a breath. “Do you think people are born gay, and born straight?”

  “No,” he laughs.

  “Explain?”

  “Well, right now, you’re neither of those things, so what are you? Chopped liver?”

  “I don’t get it.”

  He sighs, playing with one of his rings. “Well, no offense to your parents, or to my queen Lady Gaga, but I never got the ‘born this way’ thing. That’s such a rigid view, to see sexuality as something like eye color or freckles or anything else you can’t change about yourself. I think sexuality is a sliding scale, a mood, something that can change all the time, and to say you’re ‘born’ gay is a very one-sided way of looking at things.”

  “But I thought the whole argument of the gays was-”

  “That this is our nature, and that we deserve to be treated with respect because this is just how we are? I think that was more of an over-correction to the Bush years than anything.”