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(Unsatisfactory, not what I'd meant to write at all but I'll leave it as it is.)
Last evening I went on a manic spree of writing that I wish I could recapture. Happily wandering through my past gathering the threads of heterosex, emphatic queerness, and an erotic blindness sure to shame anyone who has ever thought himself wise. Today I revisited an image that probably didn't define my sexuality gave me the first of a series of special hardons that have given me much joy.
I'd explored what I'm currently thinking of as my first years of sexual blindness. At eleven I'd tried to have sex with a couple of guys. At seventeen I'd yet to understand that the love of other men would indeed define much of myself.Warning: include(/home/edifying/public_html/pansexualsodomite//common/individual.php): failed to open stream: No such file or directory in /home/richardlee/domains/pansexualsodomite.org/public_html/archives/love_and_lust/sexualities_pansexual.php on line 73 Warning: include(): Failed opening '/home/edifying/public_html/pansexualsodomite//common/individual.php' for inclusion (include_path='.:/usr/lib/php') in /home/richardlee/domains/pansexualsodomite.org/public_html/archives/love_and_lust/sexualities_pansexual.php on line 73
After Siobhan left I spent a long stretch of years that were sexually opaque if not blind. When I reemerged there was rediscovery and fresh discovery. Suddenly I was older and long of practice.
The web, diligently and carefully used can be a useful way to meet guys, especially if you don't live in a metropolitan area. In San Francisco, say, there were more gay men to be met than the entire population of Durham, NC.
Weeding out the creeps and fools there were decent gay men that I'd shy away from. Sorting out why was a time in coming. I had to remember that I loved the nelly gay male. Funny, since every swishy guy who came into the shop always got more attention and better service. The automatic deference paid to the object of desire if met where the desire is irrelevant. (Nor could any of them have known that I might be interested. I'm the now commonplace straight-acting gay. And even I wouldn't realize it was a loose way with the wrist that had made me more attentive.)
There were times online when I chatted with the self-consciously masculine gay man. Macho men exerted more fascination than those who were merely "just a guy." I like gender color. Sadly if you define yourself as strongly masculine you are probably fucked up.
Nelly gay guys remembered I found myself unable to feel interest in any other species of vanilla gay man. My strongest sexual orientation was alive in me again.
My S&M side revived. Led to only a little experimentation. The submissives that wanted to be with me were almost always unacceptable. Unforgivable stupid was their failing to read the special website I'd setup to clarify what was expected of them. Dominant women were too far away. Dominant men were intolerable: anyone who couldn't understand the strict need for negotiation before times was no one to trust yourself with.
But allowing my D/s imagination was very much an escape from sexual blindness. Parts of childhood were clarified if not explained.
The guys who wanted to wear panties or to be made feminine simply disgusted me. A series of flukes gave me the understanding that my disgust was unfair. A guy who wanted to be a girl or act as he conceived a girl was no less sexually desirable than the more conventionally sexed people I already liked.
I'd lived with a woman. I'd loved her. Sometimes I'd list myself as bisexual. That won me the attentions of what the personal ads call bicurious men. Seemingly exclusively a group of married men that want to suck cock. Of course I wasn't to attract the transy-chasers, and men who were willing to do it with guys who were in drag. Although the bulk of them seem to be equally dick-centric closet cases. Calling myself bisexual proved a very bad idea.
Last of all I came to realize that I could once again live with a woman in a routine heterosexual pairing. My sense of myself as a gay man kept pushing away the idea of again becoming involved with a woman. It isn't as though sex with Pamela, Carmen or [insert bimbo name here] wouldn't have been fine with me.
No reason to reject my heterosexual component. Men, women, transsexuals, crossdressers, intersexuals - there was no good reason for me to care. Fleshly superficialities were easily overestimated. Give me an intelligent, kind person, mix in the odd subtle, often irrational details and I could make love or be in love with anybody.
Let it all cohere and my second time of sexual blindness ended. I realized I was pansexual.