Wednesday, May 23, 2007

What Happens in the Sauna...

It's happened before. I went to NYSC, worked out, then hit the sauna. I was in just a towel. There was one other guy in the sauna.

He started looking over to me as soon as I sat down. He was pretty muscular, very masculine-looking, about my age, and pretty cute. He started reaching down under his towel. After seeing him make his move, I did the same. Eventually, he told me to move over to him. I did, and we started jerking each other off.

I'm not turned on by the whole sex-in-the-sauna thing, so I backed off like I usually do, and finally found an out when another guy came in. I guess that makes me a cocktease, but I have standards: no sex in the sauna. The other guy left, and I started to leave, too.

From what I've always understood, sauna hookups are completely anonymous. If it doesn't work out or you're not interested, there's no harm and no foul - you just get up and leave. As I got up to leave, he extended his hand to offer a handshake, and then he introduced himself to me - by name.

I shook his hand back and introduced myself, too. I didn't see why not - his hand was already intimately familiar with another extremity of mine.

Monday, May 21, 2007

After Dark

Friday night, I got wasted, abandoned my friends around 1am, and then ended up at a gay bar.

This happens a lot. This is not a healthy thing.

I have a few haunts... the usual suspects: Metropolitan in Williamsburg, Eastern Bloc in the East Village, and occasionally, Mr. Black in Noho, even though it's totally not my scene. I show up, I have a drink, I take in the scenery, gather my confidence, and eventually talk with a guy.

The next morning, I'm regretting what I did or didn't do the night before.

These nights are the reason why I should hang out with a group of gay friends. Socializing in a gay bar is a much healthier than drinking into oblivion and cruising for men.

But explaining bisexuality to a group of people in a social situation is a lot more difficult than explaining it in a gay bar. If you're known to a group of gay friends as bi, you will forever be introduced to other guys as "the bi guy." If I do meet a guy through that circle of friends, gay friends will trounce my chances. "Why does he get to talk to him," I overheard a gay friend say once at a gay bar. I couldn't tell if he was joking or not. "He can hit on women all he wants! He should save the guys for us!"

If I go to a gay bar with friends, I'm the bi guy.

If I go to a gay bar alone, I'm just another gay guy - no questions asked.

Friday, May 18, 2007


Despite all the sexual encounters I've had, I've never fucked a guy.

"How can you be sure you like guys, then," my gay friends would ask. That's a stupid question. Just people I don't like getting a dick shoved up my pooper doesn't mean I can't be attracted to men. That's like saying that if a girl doesn't like to be titty-fucked, she must be a lesbian.

Quite simply, anal sex discomforts me. It isn't the risk of STDs. It isn't that it's rather unsanitary. It's just that I'm uncomfortable. If a guy puts his finger up my ass when I'm hooking up with him, I tell him to stop. A guy could repeat a thousand times during a hookup, "I want to fuck you," and I will not give in. After all, if I was anything at all, I'd be a top.

But being a top makes me uncomfortable, too. I assume, usually being the more masculine guy in a hookup, that I'd be the dominant one. I've tried this role. It feels fine, but whether it's jitters from being grossed out, or the excitement of finally fucking a guy, I get so worked up over it that I never even make it to insertion.

I never have this problem with women. I'm always turned on by it, and I can hold my own when it comes to holding back.

Never having popped my man-sex cherry, this is the biggest dilemma: it's hard to find a guy who's not looking to fuck or be fucked. On top of that, having a gay relationship is out of the question when my partner would never feel fulfilled. Not even fulfilled, just filled.

I guess I'm just an exit-only type of guy.

Wednesday, May 16, 2007

In A Different Closet

You'd think that, because I'm attracted to men, I'd have an easy time coming out of the closet to gay men. It's not that easy.

You see, bisexual men seem to be screwed at both ends (insert rimshot here). Women are kind of freaked out by the whole thing, but gay men are, too. They call us breeders. They're baffled by the thought of us hooking up with a woman. They're confused by the concept of liking both men and women. They think we're just greedy, because we can't get enough sex out of men (when, in fact, the opposite is more likely the case).

A couple weeks ago, I was at a gay bar when my friend bartends. I've been coming to his bar for two years, and we talk nearly weekly. He introduced me to a bunch of his friends. "This is Kevin," he said. "He's my favorite gay sports expert."

I almost opened my mouth to correct him, "bi sports fan." But I stopped myself and suddenly realized something: my bartending friend thinks I'm gay. Of course he does, I've been a regular at a gay bar for two years. What is he supposed to think?

So I stay in the bisexual closet. "Coming out" as a bi male to another male involves a whole extra group of unanswerable questions: "how do you know you're bi? Why are you here and not out at a straight bar?" Or, on rate occasions, "do you want to have a threesome with my girlfriend?"

Okay, maybe the last one is answerable.

Monday, May 14, 2007

I Am Not Alone

Last year, a study was released that 10% of New York City men who claim to be "straight" have sex with men. Here's the dirty dirty:
The survey involved 4,193 men living in New York City. Almost 4 percent said they were gay, 91 percent described themselves as "straight." The rest told investigators they were bisexual, "unsure," or declined to answer.
Wow. 4% are gay, 5% are bi, and 9% are straight, but have sex with men. That's 18% of the population. So, in Manhattan alone, that's over 100,000 other men who like men. No wonder it's so easy to find sex with a guy in New York.

Friday, May 11, 2007

Hi, You Don't Know Me

Hi. You don't know me, but I'm starting a blog, just like everyone else.

So let me tell you a little about myself... although probably as little as possible.

I've known I was a bisexual since I was 14. In fact, in high school, I sort of "leaked" out of the closet. I actually started a gay-straight alliance at my high school. Some people thought I was gay, some people thought I was straight. I was neither. Or both. It all depends on your perspective.

I met a girl my senior year of high school, and we dated for two years. I had pretty much put any questions of my sexuality to rest among my friends. Once we broke up, I was in college, where I remained permanently in the closet. I exclusively dated women, and only secretly gushed over men I was attracted to.

I actually didn't have my first gay experience until I was 22. I was fresh out of college, and had just moved to New York. I still remember it well: it was through Craigslist. He was a student at Pratt; he said he was bi. He came over on a Sunday morning, we smoked some weed, made out, and jerked off. Pretty much tame stuff. It was completely discreet, and we never spoke again.

As the years have passed, I've become a little bit bolder. I'll occasionally go to a gay bar. I've got a small circle of gay friends. I still hookup using Craigslist occasionally. And I still proclaim my straightness to the outside world by dating women, who either never learn of my interest in men, or break-up with me upon learning of my interest in men.

This blog will detail my exploits, feelings, hopes, and fears as a bi-curious single male living in New York. Hop on board for a bumpy ride.