FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

You know that old joke? A guy goes into a bar, orders ten shots of tequila and downs them all. Bartender asks what the occasion is. Guy says he just got his first blowjob and the bartender congratulates him and offers another shot on the house. Guy declines, saying if ten won't kill the taste, one more isn't going to help.

Well, like all good jokes, it's funny because it has a grain of truth to it. It's nothing more than a goofy joke until the first time a guy blows his load in your mouth. Then you understand all too well what that guy with the ten shots of tequila meant. Oh sure, having a guy cum in your mouth is hot, don't get me wrong, but you're not going to be moaning with joy like some pornstar when it happens. It's gooey, it's tastes weird (One chick I know described it as 'salty bleach.' Doesn't that just make you hungry for it?), and it's not the easiest thing to swallow - especially if the guy's a real gusher. Trying to swallow his cum, while he's still juicing and pumping in and out of your muzzle, is not that easy. Maybe it gets easier with practice, but it's nothing I ever strove to be good at. (Note: I'm damned good at giving blowjobs, just not swallowing, okay?)

Yeah, I know it's not safe, but what is? Does that mean I condone it? Hell no. I'd tell anybody who asked me if they should do it that they shouldn't. It can be a power-trip if the guy will relax and let his cock do its thing. Or it can be a real chore if your guy can't control himself. "Sorry," he'll say. "I just got carried away." Sure you did, pal. Meanwhile you're the one with the dent in the back of your throat and cum running down your chin. But a lot of guys, especially the ones who are strictly tops, just care about busting a nut. Any discomfort you suffer is merely an annoyance that'll delay the next blowjob. Got news for you buddy, if I get annoyed, there is no "next blowjob." Get it?

"Dude," I hear you saying to yourself, "if it's that bad, why do it at all?"

Simple. I love sucking cock. Not "giving head" or "performing fellatio" or "conducting oral negotiations." Sucking cock. That's how much I get into it when I do it. I fantasized about it for the longest time before I ever did it. It got so bad that I was bobbing my head, imagining a cock in my mouth as I was jacking off. And I was with a girlfriend at the time!

Well, she and I broke up, and not because of my desire to taste meat. We just grew apart and the break was about at clean as it could've been. We're still friends today if that lets you know how smooth the break was. There was one other chick after her (before I got to my first guy) but she and I didn't last long. We just didn't click and I was really horned up to get with a guy. That said, she was the first person ever to rim me and I thank her for that. If you've never had it done to you, I highly recommend it. Maybe my ass is just extra sensitive, but I thought I was gonna pass out from how good it felt.

Enough about chicks, though. I'll get back to them later.

So there I was, horny for a guy and I had no idea how to meet one. Sure, I knew where the bars in my town were, but I wasn't ready for that. Where else to turn? The only other place I could think of - the personals. "Disillusioned, Elitist Equine Snot." I think I'll remember that headline for the rest of my life. I can't remember the rest of the ad, but I cracked up at the headline and knew I wanted to meet this guy. Okay, I'd pretty much decided to sleep with him if he agreed to go out with me, but we're not up to that part yet. The ad was amusing enough to warrant a call to the 900 number and leave a message if he sounded cool. He did, so I left a message. Two actually, since I got cut off by the machine while I was leaving the first one. I started my second one with "How rude!" and just kept going from there. I guess that made an impression since he called the next day.

We chatted for a bit, not about anything in particular and agreed to meet up in a couple days. I met him at his place and we hung out for a while. Maybe that was part of sizing each other up, I'm not sure. I've had a few equine pals, but never anybody I really looked at the way I was looking at this guy. He was a few inches taller than me, maybe 6' 3" or so and had a nice, sturdy build. Not a gym rat or anything, but he made the effort to keep himself fit. His fur was a few shades darker than ivory and his mane was cropped short, but not buzzed off or anything - very businesslike. He was certainly easy on the eyes, so I didn't mind the chitchat.

He talked about his job at an ad agency he was a partner at and I thought that was cool since I'd just gotten my B.S. in advertising a year ago. After a bit of that we went out to get something to eat. He had me drive his car, I'm not sure why. Maybe he just like being chauffeured around. (I'd biked over to his place, so my wheels weren't really an option.) We went to a little local place we both liked and had a simple dinner and talked more. The usual "first date" banter, I suppose. What do you do for a living? What would you rather be doing? Nothing too serious. Finally dinner was over and we went back to his place. We chatted some more - him to put me at ease, I guess. Me, because I had no idea what my first move should be. He solved that problem. "I'm going to do something I've been wanting to do all evening," he announced. "I'm going to kiss your neck".

He'd been sitting on the couch and I was on a footstool in front of him. He walked over to me, bent over with his hands on my shoulders and did just what he'd said he was going to to. I closed my eyes, sighed and just let it happen. He took this as a good sign, which it was, and moved on to my mouth. I wasn't sure what kissing a guy would be like, but it wasn't that different from kissing a girl. After a minute or so, he broke the kiss, reached down and pulled my shirt off. Then his kissed me again and this time his hands started ruffling the fur on my chest and back. It felt REALLY good. A bit more of that and he took me by the hand and led me upstairs to his bedroom.

I was nervous and excited at the same time. He sat me on the edge of his bed and took off his shirt and pants. He was halfway hard already and his cock looked huge through his briefs (he certainly seemed to be living up to his species' stereotype). Then he bent down and pulled my shorts off, leaving me in just my Calvins (I'm a total boxers guy, except when it comes to riding a bike. Tried that once and the results were uncomfortable to say the least.) with a very visible erection and a large wet spot on the front.

"You sure look ready," he teased.

I blushed and couldn't think of anything to say in response.

"Good," was all he said.

He pushed me down onto the bed and lay down next to me. We kissed some more and started rubbing each other all over. He really liked my ass (I think having a good ass is probably the best side-effect of lots of cycling.) and kept squeezing and kneading it with his strong hands. I touched him all over and my curiosity finally killed off my nervousness. I took off his underwear.

This was the first time I'd seen any cock besides mine this close up. Closer than I'd seen mine actually, since I'm not quite flexible enough to check myself out that well. He was fully hard and completely out of his sheath by this time and had a lot to show off. He was easily nine inches long, maybe a little more than that, quite thick and he had the biggest balls I'd ever seen hanging down from the base of his sheath. I'd never seen an erect horsecock before and told him so. He seem amused by that and let me play with it while he laid back and enjoyed what I was doing. Now, I'd never touched any cock but my own, but for the most part a dick's a dick. What works for one is gonna work on any other. I stroked it, rubbed it, played with the flat head, took as much of it as I could in my hand and slid the skin back and forth. He got even harder, if such a thing is possible, and swelled a little more. He was leaking pretty steadily by this point, so I got my hands slicked up with his precum and started working him a little harder. I guess he didn't want to cum yet, since he took my hands off his length and said, "my turn." I let him flip me onto my back and he moved down to my crotch. I thought he was going to finish stripping me then, but he had other ideas. He lowered his mouth to my cock and started licking me through my briefs. If I'd been oozing before I was positively flowing at this. Why I never got with an equine chick I'll never know. Those big strong tongues are magical things. Christ, did it feel good. A couple minutes of this and he was ready to get down to serious business.

He grabbed the elastic waist of my underwear and pulled them off. I remember my head catching as he pulled them down and my cock slapped back onto my stomach with a loud "Fwap!" and a splatter of precum on my bellyfur.

"Did that hurt?" he asked.

I mumbled something to the effect of "no" and he got right back to work. Now, I'd had my cock sucked before, but rarely this enthusiastically. He damn near inhaled it, taking it all into his muzzle on the first go. He held it like that for a moment, his nose in my fur, and started licking and sucking without moving his head. It's like he was nursing or something. I let out a long, low moan and then he really started going to town. Bobbing, licking, sucking - he really knew what he was doing. I did not last long at all.

"I'm gonna...." I moaned.

I don't know if he didn't hear me or didn't care, but he went right on with what he was doing. My whole body started tensing up and he reached beneath me, taking my ass in his hands. That was all it took. I moaned louder than I probably ever have before and he knew what that meant. He squeezed my ass and pulled me all the way into his mouth as I came. And, man, did I ever cum. I was groaning and shooting and he just kept on sucking, never stopping for a second. He kept going until I'd stopped twitching and finally let my cock slide out of his mouth. I was panting and gasping, my whole body feeling drained. He moved up next to me and propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at me.

"Wow," I complimented him as he started rubbing my chest and stomach. "That was great."

He didn't answer, instead leaning down to kiss me. I could taste myself on his lips and that magic tongue (yes, I know what I taste like) but that didn't bother me. We made out for a little bit until I got my strength back. Then it was time for me to take care of him. I didn't go down on him that first night. I can't say why, since I'd thought about doing it for so long. Maybe I was a little intimidated by his cock. Maybe I just wasn't ready to do it yet.

He didn't seem to mind, so it was okay. We traded postures, him going flat on his back and me rising to one elbow so I could watch him react to my attentions. I worked him with my hand as though I were jacking a larger version of my own cock. He must've really gotten off on getting me off, since he didn't last much longer than I had. After a short while his cock swelled and his egg-sized balls drew up - all the tell-tale signs of an impending climax. He shot like I only wished I could, blasting ropes of cum all over his chest and belly, grunting all the while. Again, his talents warranted the only compliment I seemed able to come up with that night. "Wow."

He'd made quite a mess. "Do I need to get something to clean you up?" I asked.

"No, I'll get it," he said as he got up to head to the bathroom. After he came back to the bedroom I took my turn doing a little clean up and returned to find him under the covers. I climbed in next to him and we curled up together, him wrapping his arms around me as though I needed protecting. I didn't, but it felt really nice.

That night was the start of a four-month relationship that was quite the learning experience. We'd get together a couple of times each week to go out to dinner, then feast on each other back at his place. The second time we were in bed together I didn't hesitate at all when it came to sucking his cock. I dove in like a pro and I guess he liked the way I did it. Afterwards he asked how many guys I'd been with.

I laughed as I asked him, "including you?"

"Sure," he replied, "including me."

"One." The look on his face was priceless.

"How can that be?" he wanted to know.

"I dunno," I shrugged. "I had a girlfriend who always claimed that she 'gave head like an angel.' I guess I paid better attention than I thought I had."

"I guess," he replied, still dumbfounded.

After I got home the next morning I called her up.

"Have I ever thanked you for being such a good lover?" I asked.

"I don't think so," she chuckled.

"Well, I should have. Because you really were," I informed her.

"Thanks," she replied. "what brought this on?"

I told her the story of the previous night (yes, I really have told her stuff like that) and while she may have thought it was weird, I think she got the point of what I was trying to say.

This guy was also the first guy I swallowed for. I hadn't planned on doing it, and he didn't force me to - it just happened. He was sitting on the edge of his bed and I was kneeling between his legs (a posture I seem to have developed quite a fondness for). I was working my magic on his cock and he started moaning louder, signaling his approaching climax. I kept right on going and he said, "you're going to take it?" My only reply was to start working him in and out of my mouth faster. He moaned one last time and started shooting. I knew how much he could cum, so I'd backed off, only keeping his big, flat-topped head in my mouth. He shot so much, so fast, I barely had time to register the taste. I was just gulping and swallowing, trying to make sure I caught it all. I kept my mouth on him 'til he was done, then bobbed a few extra times to clean him up. It was only then that I really noticed the taste - gunky. That's the only word I have for it.

Supposedly some guys taste different from others, but it's all gunky to me. (Chicks, on the other hand, do have quite a flavor spectrum.) He wondered why I'd decided to do it, and I told him I wasn't really sure - just seemed like a good idea at the time. He agreed.

I had a bunch of "firsts" with this guy, but not the big one. Oh, don't get me wrong, I was eager to get him inside me. He just didn't have a clear understanding of the necessity of lubrication. With his cock, you'd think he would've had a Ph.D. in KY, but he didn't. We tried a couple times, but he was just too much. He'd get the head to start going in me and I'd tell him to stop. I've since taken a guy his size who knew what to do, and it just made me wish that my equine lover had known his stuff. Maybe we would've lasted longer than four months....

But we didn't. He was falling in love and I just wanted to play. He actually sent me a "Dear John" letter to break up. What the hell is that about? Shit, if you want to dump me, just say so. If you don't want me around, I'll move on. Not a big deal.

I never topped that first guy either, and have only done it once. It was a one-nighter that was probably a bad idea from the start. I was hanging out in an arcade, just playing games and this cute panther walked up to me. I thought he wanted to join the game, but he just watched until I was done. When my game was over he commented on the pink triangle pin on my jacket and asked if I wanted to grab a drink. Sure, I figured. What the hell.

Well, a quick beer and a short walk later, and we're back at my place taking each other's clothes off. He was decent looking - good bod, sleek coat, nice cock - and seemed to like how I looked, so we went at it. I still hadn't been fucked yet, and while he may not have been as big as my former boyfriend, I wasn't willing to take him on. He asked if I wanted to fuck him and I said I'd never topped anybody. He didn't care and I guess he just wanted somebody to get fucked that night. He had lube in his backpack and took care of getting himself ready while I grabbed a condom. He got on all fours, flicked his tail to the side and I moved into position behind him.

I'm sure you know how it went from there - in, out, repeat until completion. It was okay, I guess, but not as good as doing a chick is. I guess maybe I thought it was going to be something it wasn't. I love the way it feels to be inside a woman, and it's just not the same with a guy. Or maybe I thought it'd be one of those "first time" experiences that always seems so good when you look back on them. You know - first kiss, first real kiss, first time you feel somebody up, first time somebody feels you up, first time you see somebody else naked, first threesome. Those all stand out in my mind, and I can tell you when, where, and with whom they all happened. But doing a guy just doesn't compare to any of those experiences. Nothing spectacular, nothing tragic nothing special.

Oddly enough, the first time I got fucked was about as memorable. Maybe it's the same for guys as it is for girls - the first time somebody does you isn't the magical experience you've been led to believe it is. It was another one-nighter (sensing a pattern here?), this time a guy I met at a club. He was a bit of a case, and I probably could've done better, but it'd been a while and I was willing to take whatever came my way. (As long as it was decent, mind you. I do have some standards.) He was an average looking polar bear, if a bit small for his species. I had a few inches of height on him and was in better shape. He was your typical "teddy bear" type - cuddly, strong enough for what he needed to do and cute enough that you wouldn't mind waking up next to him. We talked a bit, drank a bit, and after the club closed we ended up back at his place in nothing but our fur. His bod was about how I'd expected it would be, maybe a tad stockier than I'd thought, but most importantly - average cock. This, I thought, was something I can work with.

We went through all the preliminaries easily enough and he told me he wanted to fuck me. I was nervous, but he was a reasonable enough size and seemed to know what he was doing, so I told him to go ahead. He laid me on my back and got us both ready, putting on a condom and lubing both it and my ass. I was a bit wary, and I guess my tail twitching nervously gave me away. He playfully caught my tail and handed it to me, told me to relax and pushed my legs up towards my chest. He went it easier than I'd expected and damn, did it feel good!

I'd done some playing of my own back there, but it was nothing like what I was getting from him. I'm not sure if that's how it feels when a chick gets it from a guy, but I imagine it's not too terribly different. I've had girls moan when I've done them, and damn if I wasn't moaning at having this guy in me.

Clearly, he liked the reaction he was getting from me, and since I appeared to have no trouble taking him, he really started going at it. I'd thought getting pounded like that would've hurt, but it didn't. It felt great! I'd figured this was about as good as it could get until he squirted some lube onto my cock and started working it in time to his humping. Oh man, was I ever in heaven then. I wasn't able to take much of that and before long I was cumming all over myself. He rode me throughout my orgasm, then told me to grab my knees. I was only too happy to comply. Freed from having to hold my legs up, he leaned over me and placed his hands by my shoulders. Now he didn't have to worry about anything but chasing down his own orgasm, which he did in short order.

Time for another story-break. I have to admit that, even with a condom, I'm not really comfortable with a guy blowing his load in me. Now, I won't even let a guy in me without one, so I'm not crazy or anything. But no matter how good the fucking I'm getting is, the closer he gets, the more nervous I get. Yeah, condoms rarely break, but they're known to fail on occasion. And sure, it feels better to cum in somebody than on somebody. So what am I trying to say? Damned if I know. Just that the safer you play, the longer you'll be around to play. And if the guy (or girl!) you're screwing wants you to play safe - and if you're willing to - chances are you'll get some again. Think about it. We now return you to your regularly scheduled fucking.

Everybody knows what it feels like to cum. (If you don't, you have my deepest sympathies.) You probably even know what it feels like when somebody else cums. Whether it's been in your mouth, in your hands or between your tits, you have some idea what it's like. Well, this was going to be the first time somebody came IN me and I had no idea what that'd be like.

It was pretty cool. He was going to town on my ass, and I was enjoying watching him. I guess the view was pretty similar to what a chick sees when she's getting it - guy pumping away, muscles flexing, cock pistoning in and out. It was quite the sight. (Note to chicks: this is kind of why we like watching you give head. It's fun to watch. Don't get embarrassed. Just do your thing and let us enjoy the view, okay?) Finally his breathing was getting ragged and I knew he was just about there. I tried squeezing him a little from the inside and wrapped my legs around him. That was enough to push him over the brink. He groaned and fell on top of me, cramming himself as far inside me as he could get. I helped him by pulling his body tight against mine with my arms and legs. He groaned some more and I could feel his cock pulsing within me, pumping the condom (I hoped!) full of his spunk. He lay on top of me for another minute after the shuddering had ceased, getting his breath back. When he was more or less recovered, he pushed himself up on his arms. It was then that I realized what happens when you sandwich a load of cum between two furry bodies. "EWWWWWW!!!" you're saying. "Eww" is right. A big, sticky, gloppy mess that you'd swear you were going to need a fire hose and an S.O.S. pad to get off. Fortunately, the cleanup wasn't that tough, and we both laughed at the sight. He pulled out, condom intact (yay!), and flopped down next to me. I finally got to straighten my legs and damn, were they sore. I'm not sure how long we went at it, but according to my legs it was way too long.

While I wouldn't recommend people doing things outside the realm of their own sexual orientation (or comfort boundaries or whatever the hell term you want to use), there's no better way to find out what a chick goes through during sex than to get fucked yourself. Having a guy try and twist you into some of the fucked-up positions you've tried on your female partners will give you a new appreciation for the shit they put up with from us in the name of making us happy in bed. And this realization came from a simple missionary position variant, never mind that crazy shit you found in the Kama Sutra that has her bending backwards over the couch with a baked potato in one hand and.... you get the idea.

As I write this, I realize that what I said earlier wasn't quite right. The first time I got fucked was pretty cool. I still wouldn't rate it up there with the other "firsts" I listed, but it wasn't half-bad.

As we get going on the eighth page of this, I'm sure more than a couple of you are wondering, "where does the 'Bi' part of the title come in? This has just been about guys so far." And you're right. But I felt the need to lay some groundwork here. Besides, when was the last time a guy who nailed a lot of chicks was called a "slut?" Almost never. Besides, I've never been much of a "ladies man." I'm not smooth. I can't make small talk or chat somebody up very well. I was horribly tongue-tied around girls when I was younger.

So is that why I started doing guys? Because I couldn't score with a chick? No. I was curious about guys and really liked being with them. I went with nothing but guys for a couple of years. Until I met her. I think every guy has a "her." That one chick that makes you look at what's going on in your life and rethink a few things. For me, I was sure I was gay. Shit, I'd even told my parents I was. How's that for being sure of your sexuality? Well, I met this little otter fem and suddenly I wasn't so sure.

She was a friend's girlfriend's roommate, and she was weird. But cool weird, not that stupid, "trying to be different from everybody else" weird. She was an art student. She was in decent shape, carrying a few extra pounds ("few" meaning "few" here, not twenty or thirty) and had really nice boobs. Most otter chicks I've seen have that sleek racer look which means an A-cup is pretty much the order of the day. I guess when this girl tacked on that few extra pounds some of them got routed to her chest. I didn't mind a bit.

Her, her roommate, my friend and I started hanging around as a group, and she and I just hung together sometimes when they were off doing the relationship thing. I guess she thought nothing would come of our hanging out together since somebody had told her I was gay. She was cool with it, so we spent lots of time goofing around doing stuff by ourselves. It was fun to have somebody to pal around with without all the typical boy/girl tensions that often come up. And they probably wouldn't have come up at all if I hadn't brought them up. Now, to understand this you need to know one thing. I'd never hit on anybody before in my life. Any connection I'd made with somebody had been socially, or on a date or something like that. I'd had a few crushes that ended up with somebody else because I couldn't bring myself to try anything. I'd always bought into the "it'll ruin our friendship" myth that chicks toss out. (Remember that line, it will make an appearance later on.) For once, I wasn't going to let things stay the way they were. I was going to try something. If she got pissed? Just as well if she didn't want to see me anymore. I didn't want to be around her as much as I was without anything happening between us.

After we'd known each other for a while, I got the request every guy gets at least once in his life - can you help me move? Most guys dread this, knowing it'll be a day of moving heavy shit and the only payoff will be cold drinks - maybe a pizza if you're helping somebody cool. The lease was up on the place she had with my friend's girlfriend and she'd found a place with another chick. (Friend's gf had graduated and was moving out of the area.) I agreed to help her and we spent the better part of a day moving her stuff. When we were all done we were relaxing on the couch at the new place. I have no idea where they got the couch from. It was clearly dumped on them by somebody, since it had no legs. But it was decent enough so we just sat there recovering from the day's labor.

She said her feet were sore, so I offered to rub them for her. (My intentions were totally innocent at this point, I swear.) She put them up in my lap and I got to work. After I'd finished both feet I just moved on to legs and massaged them. She liked how this was working out (for her) so she rolled over and asked me to do her back next. I decided to give her the works and started rubbing her from the base of her neck all the way to the tip of her tail. (If you've never had the chance to massage an otter's tail, I highly recommend it. It's a big mass of muscle and you'll be rewarded with the greatest moans of delight when you work on it.) Things got a little more interesting from there and I finally ended up sitting in front of the couch with her leaning back resting her head in my lap. I finished up the massage by doing her scalp and neck, but my eyes kept drifting to her chest and body. I'm not sure exactly when my intentions had gone from friendly rubdown to wanting to see her naked, but they had. So there I was, rubbing her temples as she sighed and all I could think of was leaning down to kiss her. It took me about 10 minutes to work up the nerve to do it, but I did it. Twice.

The first time got no reaction, so I did it again to see if she'd reciprocate. After the second kiss she asked, "why are you kissing me?"

"You looked like you could use it," I said. Oh man, had I just screwed up?

"Uh-huh," she replied.

"Okay," I confessed, "I could use it too."

She didn't say anything else, but changed her position so that we were facing each other. I took this as a good sign and gave her a third kiss.

This time she kissed back. YES!!

The next few minutes are lost somewhere in my head. I think I was so happy she was willing to fool around that I didn't care about anything else. The next thing I remember, she was naked on the couch and was telling me to hurry up and take my clothes off. I hastily complied and there we were, naked and making out, her laying on top of me. After a bit of that she broke our kiss and said, "we're not going to have sex."

"Okay," I said, rubbing her ass and the base of that magnificent tail.

"No," she insisted, "we're really not going to have sex."

"Hey, I'm cool with that," I explained. "There's lots of other stuff we can do."

(Now, a lot of guys may have gotten pissed at this, but it really didn't matter to me. With the first chick I'd had sex with the four months leading up to our finally doing it were nothing but one extended session of foreplay. I'd learned all kinds of stuff you can do without actually having sex.)

She agreed and we were back at it. Things were going great and we were doing all sorts of stuff with/to each other. Then she starts trying to have sex with me.

"I want you in me," she said.

"What?" I asked. "You said you didn't want to do it."

"I know, but I want to," she reiterated.

Great. Just fucking great. She's hot for me. I'm hard as all hell, and I don't have any condoms. I pointed this out.

"Ummm, condoms?" I asked.

"I don't care," she said. "Just do me."

Danger, Will Robinson! Danger!

("I don't care" is not something you want to hear from anybody when you suggest using birth control / protection of any kind.)

Thankfully the big head was able to wrest control of the body away from the little head. And none too soon. The whole time we were having the above conversation, she was trying to lower herself onto my cock. I raised my knees up and pushed her off target, but she kept trying to get me inside her.

"We can't." I was practically whimpering. I wanted her so badly, but wasn't going to take the chance.

"Come on," she pleaded, trying to force my legs back down to the couch. I found out just how strong that tail of hers was too, since she was using it to try and shove one of my feet off the couch so I'd drop that leg. "No," I said in the firmest tone I could muster.

We went back and forth like this a few more times until I took her by the waist and sat her on my stomach. I held her there until she cooled back down and came to her senses. She finally got the idea that sex + no condom = bad idea. Now that she was firmly grounded in reality we got back to business and made each other quite happy. After wearing each other out on the couch, we went to her bedroom and passed out together. The next morning I was half-awake when she crawled over me and got out of bed, saying something about the shower. I rolled over and went back to sleep. Or tried to anyway.

Wham! Wham! Wham!

Damn, what the hell is that noise?

Wham! Wham! Wham!

I got up and went to the bathroom door. "You okay?" I asked.

"Yeah," came her reply. "I want you to get in here with me."

Hell, who am I to argue with an offer like that?

At first it was an ordinary shower. Take turns getting wet, shampoo each other's fur, start washing each other... Then it was, make sure the boobs get cleaned, wash between each other's legs.... You get the idea. Eventually I took her ass in my hands and lifted her up to kiss her better. She wrapped her legs around my waist and I pressed her up against the wall. I was kissing her nice and hard and she'd reached down and was playing with my cock. Everything was feeling really good. Then she went over that line again.

She'd started rubbing her clit with my cockhead, and we were both moaning as we kissed. When we came up for air I started having flashbacks to last night on the couch.

"Fuck me," she demanded.

Shit, there oughta be a law against chicks saying stuff like this.

"You know we can't. No condoms," I reminded her.

"So what?" she asked, continuing to massage her clit with the my head. (Now, if you were to ask anybody who knows me, they'd tell you "good impulse control" is not among my list of personality traits. To this day I can't say why I just didn't do it. There I was, my morning wood about two inches from where it really wanted to be, a chick I was hot for telling me to fuck her, and I'm not doing her. I guess the big head paid more attention in those "safe sex" talks than the little head.)

I didn't try to reason with her, knowing she was beyond that, and just lifted her up until she took her legs from around my waist. Once her legs were beneath her I pinned her waist to the wall and went down to my knees. I tuned out her pleas for sex and just went to work on her, not taking my mouth off her until she came. She tried to return the favor by jacking me off, but I was too weirded out by her to get off. I was totally hard, but it was like my cock finally saw what she was like and said, "dude, are you sure you want to cum around this chick?"

Well, I did, just not right then. (Let the record show that I did indeed cum for her many more times on different occasions. Thank you.) After that first night, and morning, together she never tried to get me to do her again. She said she really didn't want to have sex, but when she got really horny she just lost control and that it'd be my job to make sure we didn't have sex. Excuse me?

I think she just had issues about sex, and the only time they disappeared is when she was fooling around. We'd talked about it another time and her parents had given her some whacked out puritanical speech about sex when she was a kid ("Sex is filthy, dirty and disgusting. You should only do it with somebody you truly love and care about.") and she never could get past that. So I'd like to take the time to give a hearty "FUCK YOU!" to her parents, wherever they may be. Thanks a lot for screwing up a really cool chick, you fucking idiots.

After that first time together we hooked up pretty regularly for a couple weeks, each of us having a great time and the "fuck me" incidents not repeating. Then the issues started popping up. At first, since we weren't having sex it was okay. I got her off, she got me off - everybody goes home happy. Then she started thinking that maybe what we were doing was just as bad. Oddly enough, these thoughts showed up when it was my turn to get off. I guess she wasn't quite so horned up that she didn't care like when I was taking care of her. She was always happy to get together, get naked and get off, but once she'd had her orgasm, what we were doing wasn't quite so okay anymore.

Was I being used? Probably. Was I happy about the situation? Nope. But I kept doing it, hoping that the next time would be the time she'd get back to the way she'd been the first night. It never happened though. And this went on until she moved away. Towards the end, we didn't even fool around anymore. Her "issues" had gotten to the point where even me seeing her without her shirt off was "bad." Whatever. At least things got back to some semblance of normality without her being an emotional tornado on the trailer park of my emotions.

So in the space of a few months I'd gone from completely gay to being a wreck over a chick. Where did that put me on the sexuality map? Well, before I'd even gotten with my first guy, I'd figured I was bi. No way could I be with a chick, yet want a guy and not be at least bi. Then after I'd been with a guy, I was sure I was totally gay. Chicks did nothing for me anymore. Then little miss "fuck me" came into my life and I had a thing for chicks again, but I still liked guys. Bi again? Who knows.

I don't really like any of the terms out there since they all have too much baggage associated with them. I guess I can use "bi" if I have to, but I kinda like saying "gender indifferent" or "equal opportunity service provider." To me, that means the gender of who I date, fuck or get fucked by really doesn't matter. There are so many more important reasons not to be with somebody than their gender. If somebody's an asshole, I don't care if they're male or female, they do nothing for me no matter how good they look. Same goes for airheads, vapid twits and morons. If I don't like you, I won't be with you. I don't care what everybody else thinks about you. If my interest meter flatlines, you don't stand a chance.

"Gee," you're saying, "that was fun. Trying to bore us or get us to look for the next bit o' yiff?"

Nope. Just venting a little. My writing, my rules. Don't like it? Stop reading.

"My, aren't you the pissy one?"

Whatever.

"Okay, then. You talked about nailing (almost) a chick, but where's the slut part come into it?"

Finally, a relevant question.

To me "slut" is one of those words that doesn't really have a definition.

"Then why put it in the titl-"

I think I can take it from here, thank you.

In my opinion "slut" is the label that prudes toss on a girl who's having more fun with her body than they're having with theirs. The girl who discovers her body at 15 and becomes sexually active isn't a slut. Face it, that girl is envied. She knows something the prudes don't. They're jealous of this, but could never admit it. That would make them as bad as her.

I use the word in the title because most of the time when I'm with a guy, I feel the way the prudes who use "slut" wish people would feel when they call them a slut. Does that mean I feel cheap and degraded when I'm with a guy? Probably not, but definitely "used." If I hook up with a guy, it's for one thing only - to make him cum. Sure, I get to cum too (I'd damn well better!), but my focus is always on taking care of the guy I'm with.

"Isn't that what you're supposed to do?"

Yeah, but it's not just that. I like being subservient to a guy. I like knowing that I serve a purpose to that guy. My sole value to him is to make his cock shoot. I'm not a companion, a buddy or a date - I'm there to get him off.

"So you're like a whore?"

Now you're getting it! Except that I'm not. I've never been paid for sex (unless you count dinner or something like that) or tried to get paid for sex. But the mentality is the same. What's a whore's job? To get you off. That's it. That's how I feel when I'm with a guy.

"Dude, you've got some serious issues."

Perhaps, but despite what I've just said, I'm happy. I don't have any complaints about my life or how I live it. I enjoy sex with both men and women, but the dynamic is different with each gender. I've had "romantic" sex with guys, but it doesn't feel as good to me as the way I like it. Maybe a shrink would say I enjoy feeling used during sex with men because I subconsciously disapprove of what I'm doing. Interesting theory, but probably not true. After all, it was my subconscious that had me pretending I was sucking cock while jacking off before I ever got with a guy.

And I don't mind if anybody else thinks of how I look at sex with guys as "slutty." Shit, what else would you call somebody who's done several threesomes with two other guys? What would you say if I told you I once did an all-male four-way and the other guys were all tops? And what if I said during that four-way they each got a turn in my ass and the ones who weren't fucking me were either getting blown or getting a handjob while I was getting my ass stuffed?

"I think I'd have to say you're a slut."

And now you understand the title.

"Well, not completely. Where does the 'Worst of Both Worlds' part come into it? Since you've had good times with chicks and you like being a slut for guys, what's so bad about any of it?"

I guess that has to do with baggage that comes with being bi. (I won't go into that again and will just use the term for simplicity's sake.) To gay people, you're not really gay, so you're "half-breeder" at best and can't really understand what they go through. To most straight people a bi guy may as well be totally gay. Like Andrew Dice Clay once said, "you either suck dick, or you do not suck dick." That's how a lot of straights feel.

(If you're a bi chick, you've got it made. Straight guys love you because they think you'll let them watch you get with a chick. And even if lesbians hate you for doing guys, there's plenty of bi chicks who don't want to be thought of as lesbians even though they won't go near a guy. Got news for you honey - if you only hook up with chicks, you're a lesbian. If you don't do guys - ever - you're a lesbian. Case closed.) And to a straight chick a bi guy is usually "hands off." Honesty is most definitely not the best policy if you want to get laid. (Note: do not lie about any health issues. That's just plain wrong.) I've only been with one chick who knew I was bi - and more than a couple who didn't know and would've said "Hell no!" if they had known.

So everybody thinks of bi people as going out and have the full gender buffet wide open to them, but it's not always a party. All the good stereotypes about being gay? You don't get 'em. Snappy dressers, good dancers? Please, I couldn't dress, my way out of a paper bag. Not that I walk around naked all the time (hmmm, but I do at home so maybe...) but I'm not a "well-groomed" person at all. Baggy shorts, a t-shirt and a short-sleeved shirt on over that and I'm set. And don't even get started on hair. Ugh. My hair does whatever it wants, don't try to reason with it. Dancing? How about you just shoot me now? It'll be less painful for all of us. Give me time and I could come up with more stereotypes I don't live up to, but you get the idea.

"So is there anything good about being bi?"

Sure. You really do get to pick from the whole buffet and not just a certain portion of it. The quality may not be what you expect all the time, but that goes for anybody - straight, bi or gay. If you think I'm wrong about that, go look at the couples that come out of any bar paired up together at closing time. More often than not, you can tell who "settled" and who "scored" pretty easily.

You get to travel in both worlds - gay and straight. It's like dual citizenship for sexuality. Granted you're considered a tourist in both places, but what the hell, everybody loves to travel, right?

And every once in a great while, something happens that makes you forget all about whatever label you've picked for yourself. Could be a guy, could be a girl - that's not the point. The point is that somebody comes along (or comes along again) that restores your faith in the world. Remember earlier when I mentioned the "ruin our friendship" myth? This final tale is about how much crap that line really is. (You didn't think I'd end this on a down note - gloomy title or not - did you?)

She's a great little raccoon and I've known her for at least 12 years. I don't even remember when we met. Doesn't matter I suppose. She's been a great friend since day one - whenever that was. We'd hang out, do cool shit together, even pass out in bed together when we got tired - but nothing physical ever happened. She's one of the coolest people I've ever met, and I still care about her even if I don't see her that often. She's one of the three great crushes of my life. Maybe you've had more than three, or less, but I've just had the three. One, nothing ever happened with. The second was the chick I mentioned back at the beginning that I called to thank for being a good lover - I think you can figure out what happened with her. This is about number three. We lived about 2,000 miles apart at the time of this event and hadn't seen each other for a couple years. We'd gotten back in touch and she wanted to come for a visit. Hang out, I'd show her around my new town and do some camping while she was here. Sounded great to me. She came to town and hadn't changed much since the last time I'd seen her. Still her cool, cute, outgoing, do-anything self.

We did stuff like we always had in the past - go out to eat, explore the town, chill in front of the tv and crash together when it was time to sleep. The first two nights she actually slept next to my bed (her back was bothering her from the flight) and we talked until we dozed off. The third night, she climbed into bed with me and still nothing happened. The next morning I woke up first and lay there watching her sleep in her t-shirt and boxers. "This is stupid," I told myself. "You're worrying about being rejected, just like when you were seventeen. Worst-case scenario is a 'no,' so stop being such a wimp about it."

Boldened by my inner-monologue I reached out and started caressing her belly, ruffling her fur this way and that. She stirred a little, so I kept at it, eventually sliding my hand under her shirt and rubbing beneath her breasts. As I started touching her right breast she opened her eyes, looking out at me from her natural mask.

"I don't think this is such a good idea," she said.

"How come?" I asked, not removing my hand.

"I don't want to mess up our friendship," she explained. (See! I told you you'd see that line again.)

I just gave her a look as though she'd said the most idiotic thing I'd ever heard. Thinking about it now, I guess she had.

"Okay, I guess that does sound really dumb," she admitted. (So, guys - girls too, I suppose - if anybody ever uses that line on you, call them on it! It's pure bullshit and they know it.)

That admission was all the encouragement I needed. We only did some basic fooling around that morning, and for the next few nights until we "did the deed," but I was in no hurry. It was the most fun I've had being naked with somebody in years.

If you've never laughed with somebody (WITH, not AT) during or after sex, you're not really getting the most out of your time together. Case in point. The first night after we'd fooled around (I'd like to point out that she made the first move that evening, so no getting pissed at me for starting before she woke up the first time.) I was left with quite a mess in the fur on my belly and chest.

"Do I need to get you a towel or something?" she asked me.

"No, it's okay," I told her. "I've got a washcloth in my night stand."

"You loser!" she laughed.

Not something you expect to hear from somebody in bed, but I guess it was kinda true. Hell, without intending to I'd just admitted that I jack off enough to be prepared for the aftermath. It was so unexpected that I couldn't help but laugh along with her.

That moment set the tone for the rest of her visit. We could go out and do "friend" stuff every day and every night we were back in bed together. The only exception was one night while we were camping. We'd gone on a long day-hike and were pretty beat. We were in our own sleeping bags, but weren't totally zipped up yet. I rolled over, kissed her and started messing around. I must've been more tired than I realized because the next thing I knew I was waking up to her chuckling and telling me, "we don't have to fool around every single night, you know?" I think I grumbled something about wanting to try anyway, but she just laughed and pulled my hand out of her shorts. She gave me one last kiss for the evening then I was out like the proverbial light. She stayed with me for two weeks and they were two of the best weeks of my life. I was dropping her off at the airport all too soon. I still remember the last kisses she gave me outside the terminal. Not long, passionate ones either. Just simple, chaste ones. Maybe you'd call them "good-bye" kisses, but I call them hints of things yet to come.

I can coast on the high I got from that visit for quite some time. You need something like that to come along every now and then and no matter what else is happening in your life. No matter what your job is, no matter how long you go without sex, no matter how much of a slut you are - all will be right with the world. And if everything doesn't get right with the world? Fuck it. Make a new world for yourself. Write it. Draw it. Build it. Just don't be satisfied until it's good enough for you.

Okay, so that's not the strongest ending in the world, but what do you expect? This is a confessional monologue, not a story. It's all true, so that's gotta count for something. If you want something deep and meaningful, turn off your damned computer and go outside. Get together with some friends. Go to the park. Get lost in the woods. Stand naked in your backyard and stare at the stars. Just do something different from what you've been doing all day. Do something NEW, for fuck's sake. Okay?

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going outside to go take some pictures. =oP

-RK