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[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]Learning not to get all pissed off when a guy couldn't stay hard enough to get it in me; ditto for all the times a guy barely got the head in me and unloaded... and sometimes unloading before he could even get the head in. Telling him that it's okay because I wanted him to cum even if he didn't get it in me. Even trying not to get pissed when, at least to me, the guy was taking too long to put his cum in my ass.

And understanding a lot about what a woman feels and goes through when I'm driving my dick into her and filling her up with cum. Literally a pain in the ass that's sometimes enjoyable... and sometimes not so much. Big dicks. Smaller ones. Fat ones and so fat it feels like the guy is trying to shove his whole leg into me... and some so thin that I don't even feel them going in and sometimes can't really feel it inside me.

Do you know what it's like to be fucked? I used to live for it... and now I can take it or leave it. Most of the time I'm happy leaving it... but sometimes I need it; I need to remember what it feels like or, really, to be reminded of what it feels like. So nasty and so morally wrong... and not giving a fuck that it is. Getting to my favorite part when the dick buried in my ass swells... then pulses, shooting hot, sticky sperm into me, hearing him groaning and all that and my lying under him and thinking - knowing - that, yes: This is what I wanted to feel. I needed to feel it. The pain and discomfort... then that moment of bliss that makes being fucked feel so right and good and always the anticipation.

Cum in me. Do it now. Stop making me wait for it; don't make me beg for it. Shoot it in me and as much as you got; a little or a lot, doesn't matter as long as you bust your nuts wide open in my ass.

Do you know what it's like?[/SIZE][/FONT]

[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]What are you thinking? What are you feeling? What does it mean to you to have another man's cock literally reaming you out and in the most forbidden of places? And, yes - are you thinking that maybe this wasn't as good of an idea as you first thought it was? Are you gonna be very happy when it's all over and done with and he finally pulls out of you? What are you thinking and feeling when his cum starts to ooze out of you? Happy? Satisfied? Again dirty or used?

I used to love being fucked, to feel a hard dick pressing itself into me and knowing what was going to happen at some point. I would often think about what part of being fucked I really liked the most; was it the moment he pushed his dick into me? Feeling him moving in and out of me and maybe even hitting my prostate? Was it the moment - the anticipation - of him about to cum inside me? Did I really like feeling like a girl and knowing all to well that he was doing to me what I'd done to many a girl... and guys, too?

I'd come to understand that, for me, the best parts was lying on my belly, feeling the weight and heat of his body on my as well as the hard spike of his cock being speared into me and impatiently waiting for the moment when the tightness of my hole pushes him over the edge... and he cums in me. It exhilarated me... just as much as it made me feel... very dirty. Nasty. Girly. Being able to take those very negative feelings and turn them around in my head and see them as being good things.

To know that, if nothing else, his body liked fucking me enough for him to fill me with cum. The familiarity of it. The odd comfort in it. Then feeling empty after he pulls out and a feeling that doesn't quite feel all that good. Flip-flopping between wanting him to hurry up and cum in me... and hoping that he's not gonna cum any time soon. Having that crystal clear awareness that I'm being fucked and that being fucked "good" or "bad" didn't really matter; all that mattered was I had a hard dick in my ass and at some point, I was going to have my ass flooded with sperm.

Dealing with all that after the fact stuff; asshole sore and gaped open; feeling... satisfied and not so much; being glad that he's done... and being sad that he's done. Sometimes kicking my own ass because I thought it was what I wanted only to find out that I really didn't - but understanding that it always sounds like a good idea at the time.[/SIZE][/FONT]

[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]Do you know what it's like? To be lying there, waiting for him to mount you, to feel his lubed-up knob pressing against your hole... the feeling it being pushed into you and as those muscles that are designed to keep stuff in are being made to let something in? That moment of stretching; that moment of discomfort; the truth that if something big can come out of there, something even bigger can go in there.

Feeling another man's cock moving in and out of you; all the moaning and groaning and cussing; being "used" by him for his pleasure and yours; being in that unique moment where you realize that you're a guy just like he is... and he's fucking you like you're a girl... and you're loving every moment of it or doing your best to.

Feeling his dick in you. It hurts but hurts so good. His weight pressing down on you or your legs are all up in the air or around his waist or neck; being taken from behind, his hands gripping your waist or even pressing your head down as he fucks into you over and over... until you feel his cock swelling inside you... followed by the strong pulses as he unloads his sperm into you. When he withdraws, do you feel.. empty? Dirty? Used? Maybe even guilty? Does it make you feel some kind of way to know that, for now, he's done and he's not gonna be able to fuck you again until/unless he can manage to get it back up again?[/SIZE][/FONT]

[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]Years go by. He's long gone and my heart still ached. Sex with other guys, while good, just wasn't the same and it was no fault of the other guy, not his fault that he wasn't the guy I loved so much. Some would profess their love for me but it was a sentiment I couldn't honestly return. I'd like them... but loving them? It didn't feel right, that and I knew that I didn't love them.

My lost love spoiled the shit out of me, maybe even "ruined" my ability to fall in love with another guy. I had to learn to stop comparing other guys to him because it wasn't fair to them; not their fault that they weren't him or even close to being like him. And I was really understanding this boy/boy thing and in greater detail than ever before. Sure... most of the time, it was about the sex; dicks being sucked (when allowed) and asses being fucked (also when allowed) but love - the kind that really does touch you heart and soul - wasn't to be found, not without the drama I experienced via my ex-roommate.

Jealousy. Possessiveness. Ranting and raving about my being bisexual when I "knew" I was really gay. Learning a lot of shit about something that was more involved than sex. Making connections in my mind and seeing that some gay men were just like women... and often, worse. More... emotional. Demanding. The continued insistence that i was in great denial about not being gay or their thought that if I were totally gay, I could be so much more. Being told to just give up women and pussy... and I wasn't buying - or even renting - any of it. I knew what they wanted me to be... but I knew what I was: Bisexual. Not ever gonna give up my love for women and pussy... because I didn't have to. And understanding that a lot of those guys didn't understand it.

Could I fall in love with a guy again? It's possible; if nothing else, it was the one thing that taught me to never say never. Do I look for it? No, not really because if I learned nothing else about having sex with men, it's that love doesn't have shit to do with it and it's less complicated just to keep it "friendly" and enough for dicks to get sucked and asses to be fucked. I'm good with that. It's not that I can't feel affection for a guy because I can and it feels good. But I am nothing if not a realist and I know that a guy would have to be very special for me to feel love for him. Maybe I'll meet that guy some day; maybe I never will. It's okay. Doesn't bother me if a guy ain't into me and is just into the sex. It's all good.[/SIZE][/FONT]

[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]My only "beef" with him? He wouldn't fuck me. I understood that, as he put it, he was the girl in this relationship and I found myself talking about what it means to be in love and how important it was to share in everything. I had a very... emotional moment telling him how very much I wanted and needed him to be inside me and how... empty I felt because he wouldn't - literally - fill me with his love and I didn't mean his dick and cum. In a way, I think I fucked up because I made him do it even though I knew he didn't like doing it.

I was still kinda stupid back then and I admit to my wrongdoing in this. Yet, he didn't complain; he'd tell me that he wasn't used to this but if it would make me happy, it made him happy. One day, he's fucking me and he actually said, "I could get used to this... but only with you." It made me happy... and made me feel like an asshole, too. So I stopped insisting that he fuck me and told him that if he wanted to - and I no longer expected or demanded that he want to - that would make me very happy and, yes, make me feel less of an asshole.

He'd do it every now and then and I was indeed happy and felt very loved, too. And as he said, "It's still not my thing to do but my job - my duty - is to make you happy. I never thought I'd like being the one doing the fucking but with you? It's not that bad... just a lot to get used to." Then he came inside me... and I cried.

Pretty deep shit. It trashed my heart and soul when he had to leave and it took me [B]years[/B] to get over losing him. I remember telling him about my roommate and he said, "What a cunt! I'm so sorry you had to deal with that bitch!" It was the first time I'd ever seen him angry and it kinda shocked me for a moment.

"That cunt... that bitch... was the kind of cunt that gives gay men like me a bad name!" he said; his face was beyond beet-red and I was getting concerned about his blood pressure. He calmed down and said, "Let me make it up to you..."

One of the best blow jobs I've ever had in my life. Not just because he was so skilled at it... but because he loved me and I loved him. After I recovered from being drained, he sat astride me, my dick in him as far as it could go... and he just sat there, tears streaming down his face as well as have the most beautiful smile I'd ever seen. He laid down on me, kissed me - boy, did I love kissing him - and whispered in my ear, "This is how we're supposed to be." I don't remember how long we laid like that, unmoving; he sat up to fully insert me into him again, gasped, and shot his load and it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen... even though I'd seen plenty of guys lose it like that.

Being in love is something else, ain't it?[/SIZE][/FONT]

[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]Years go by. I'm still occasionally having sex with gay men and while some of them behaved as badly as my ex-roommate, the majority of them were really decent dudes and while some of them would get a little pissy about my dick being in pussy, they understood that I wasn't gay like they were and just wouldn't fuss all that much about it.

When I met the guy I fell in love with - and I've written about him here - talk about a breath of very fresh air! He didn't fuss about me being married, didn't fuss about me smelling and tasting like pussy because, as he said, "You're a married man and you gotta keep her happy!" Still, it was a test for me because he was very effeminate and I'd have to admit that my mind hadn't learned anything from having an effeminate roommate so his... girly ways tended to mess with my head, like him crying because he was happy.

An amazing guy. Loving. Caring. Smart, funny, and very open-minded. He was a joy to have sex with and if I thought I was a cock sucking fiend, he made me look like I didn't like sucking dick! Give him any amount of time alone with me and he'd have his face glued to my crotch - and no matter if I was doing anything else. He touched my heart with his vulnerability and, yes, his... girliness. I still couldn't believe how much I loved him because, of course, like a lot of guys, the notion of falling in love with a guy was just impossible; wasn't ever gonna happen... and I was wrong... and glad that I was.

One afternoon when the wife and kids were gone, we were in bed, my dick deep inside him... and we're just lying there together without moving. Tears are streaming down his face but I learned to expect that and was less bothered by it. It was one of the most tenderest moments we'd had at that point; it wasn't exactly about sex but it was about being... joined both physically and emotionally. I'd look into his very green eyes... and feel myself getting lost and [B]really [/B]seeing him, if that makes sense to you.

I don't quite remember cumming inside him; I kinda snapped out of it because he moaned, mumbled, "Yes..." and for a moment, I was really wondering what he was talking about; it was like I was completely unaware of the fact that my dick was inside him. God... I was so in love with him. The sex was unlike anything I'd experienced before with other guys, gay or not. He had a piece of my heart and soul...[/SIZE][/FONT]

[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]At this point, I have to say that this guy did not give me a bad impression about gay men at all; I was (and still am) smart enough not to condemn all gay men based on how one gay man was behaving.

One weekend, we had a party and he had invited a lot of his friends. Things were going well... then it turned into an orgy once pretty much everyone got all boozed up. Dicks were being sucked and asses were getting fucked... and I'm just kinda sitting there watching it, sometimes stepping around and over bodies on the floor to hit the bathroom or the kitchen. One of his friends must've realized that I was the only one not in the mix so he came over, pulled my dick out, and started blowing me... and my roommate lost his ever-loving mind, yanking the guy away from me, slapping him several times, and yelling, "That's my dick! Leave it alone!"

I got up from where I had been sitting, went over to him and said, "If you hit him again, I'm going to hit you; I don't belong to you and if he wants to blow me, I say he can and if you don't fucking like it, go to your room." I took the guy by the hand, sat back down in the chair, and said to him, "Finish what you were doing..."

The rest of the evening, surprisingly, went well... but my roommate was fuming, giving me dirty looks to see me fucking somebody or blowing them. As an aside, I was the only guy there who didn't get fucked... but I didn't really notice that until the next day. And speaking of the next day - and since it was Saturday - things picked up right where they left off... and my roommate was still acting like a little bitch.

I was so glad when he got transferred to another base. While it wasn't the first time I'd had sex with a gay man, this was the first time to be caught up in this kind of shit. When he was all packed and ready to leave, he was crying and carrying on, telling me how much he was gonna miss me and when he asked if I was going to miss him I said, "Not really; you'd better get going before you're late reporting..."[/SIZE][/FONT]

[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]He takes a step back... and here comes his hand, palm open to slap me and my years of training kicked in, blocking his attempt to slap me and I put him on the floor - hard - and added an armlock for good measure. He's looking at me, shocked and now crying and telling me he's sorry.

I don't know why I let him apologize by blowing me but I was too pissed off to really enjoy it and more so when I can hear him bitching about how my crotch still smelled like pussy and my dick tasted like it... but, yeah, I let him suck me off twice before I told him I was going to bed. We didn't have much to say to each other - or do anything - for a couple of days but we eventually sat down and talked about it. He's saying he thought I was gay, I'm telling him I'm bisexual; he's telling me that he would feel better if I didn't have sex with women... and I'm telling him there's no way I'm ever gonna do that and if he doesn't like it, too bad.

He's maintaining that we're boyfriends and I'm maintaining that we aren't. Tempers are starting to flare - and I can see that he remembered what I did to him so the moment got diffused... and ended with me with my dick buried in his ass. As I lay in my bed, I'm thinking that this was gonna be a very bad situation and I should look into getting a new roommate or changing dorms.

My time as his roommate was a living hell for me; he was possessive and obsessive, still acting like we were a couple. I didn't stop dating women or fucking them and he'd want to fight about it - he didn't learn about that so much. He called himself making me jealous; once we moved off base, he'd have guys over and "made sure" that I'd catch them having sex... and then he'd get pissed because it didn't bother me in the least bit.[/SIZE][/FONT]