“Why don’t we go upstairs and fuck.”
Thus said Red last night, decisively ending what had become a somewhat angsty conversation about where we are and where we’re going in our, air quotes, relationship. It was in direct response to my statement “I just don’t understand what we’re doing”; I thought it was a perfectly apt reply.
It’s the next day, though, and I still don’t understand what we’re doing. I do know that Red is exquisite. When she is naked, I don’t care what we’re doing. I don’t care about anything. Her body is hypnotic and I just want to lose myself in it.
{Boy Boy Girl Love is an excellent tumblr – one of the very first I started following, and I love it. They also have a cool non-tumblr site, with a forum. I registered today, and it seems like a really neat place.
There’s a post there that asks about your “catalyst” for thinking about bisexual-type things. I started to write a post describing mine, but – as these things often do for me – it turned into a novella. I figured I’d post it here instead (and probably post a much briefer version on the BBGL site). So, here goes. My bisexual fantasy catalyst:}
When I was a sophomore in college, I found out that my longtime girlfriend had been cheating on me for some time. I was totally wrecked and we ended up breaking up.
Before we did, though, we tried for a while to patch things up. I pressed her for details about what had happened. I told her (and myself) that I needed to know and understand what happened if there was to be any chance of forgiving her. That was probably true, at least in part. But also, hearing about it was incredibly arousing. Arousing and painful.
I remember pretty vividly the “big reveal” conversation, when she told me in detail about the first time she had sex with someone else.