Ask Boot... something.

I’m trying to get back into writing. It’s difficult; my other self keeps demanding the use of our brain for ‘work’ and other wastes of time. But right now, the brain is mine, so I want to write.

And while I have no inspiration (someone please make a request!), I do have something I can do. I can ask myself questions. So I present to you another Ask Boot:

What kind of boots do you like?

The kind people wear. Especially girls. I’m pretty sure I’m at least mostly straight.

Okay, that was a whole lot of qualification. You want to explain that?

My sexuality? Sure. That’s not where I thought you were going; I was all ready to start describing a sexy pair of boots. But this is good too. Probably better.

I am a cisgendered male who is heteroflexible. That means that I genetically have one X and one Y chromosome, I was born male, I was raised male, and I identify myself as male. I do think that parts of my brain are female, and I don’t mind taking up a female identity in spaces where I can leave my body behind. But I’m not looking to dress in women’s clothing, I’m not looking to be androgynous, and I’m not looking to actually become a woman. That’s not my thing. I will (and do) support people who feel some kind of gender dysphoria, but that’s not what we’re talking about. I’m male. I’m a guy, and I’m happy that way, even if I sometimes like to pretend otherwise.

Heteroflexible is a bit more complex. I’ve identified as heterosexual all my life. I can’t really point to any man I’ve ever looked at and been sexually attracted to. There are men that I find attractive, but it’s always in that way of “I understand why people are attracted to that” kind of thing. I think Neil Patrick Harris is very attractive. So is Joseph Gordon Levitt. But while I think both of them are attractive, I can’t honestly say I’m attracted to either of them.

But there’s always been this nagging feeling like I’m not just straight (or heterosexual, if you prefer… and you should). I think the questioning started pretty early on in puberty, but I didn’t keep a diary or anything, so I can’t give you an exact date. What I know is that I tried to figure out if I was gay (or bisexual), and if not, why not?

I come from a weird family. My aunt wanted me to be gay because she wanted to see if my father would really be as accepting as he claimed to be, or if it was a case of “it’s fine for other people to be gay, but not MY son” sort of thing. Regardless, there was never any overt pressure to like this kind of person or that kind. My parents were very supportive (and for the record, I think my dad would have been fine with it). It may be the fact that they were so supportive that gave me the space to ask these questions.

What didn’t I like about the idea of being gay? Was I opposed to someone bending me over a table and fucking me in the ass? No, not at all. Quite the contrary, in fact. Just asking myself that question led to a ton of very fun fantasies. I definitely was not opposed to getting fucked, to being dominated, to being held down and used for the pleasure of someone else. I wasn’t even opposed to the idea of someone cumming inside me.

So was it the other thing? Did I have a problem with the thought of putting a penis in my mouth? Well, I didn’t like the wording, that’s for sure. Too wimpy. Fine: how did I feel about sucking cock? That sounded way better. And more interesting. Intriguing. It sounded like something I could totally see myself doing. Again, fantasy after fantasy.

Of course, these fantasies always had a female element. Sometimes I was female. Most of the time, though, there was a woman who was with the man, who was my dominant. She would want me to let the guy fuck me for her. I would suck his cock for her. All of this was stuff I could do, but only for a girl.

Maybe it was a matter of the taste of cum? No, I tried that. Cum is actually more or less tasteless. It’s got kind of a slimy texture, but it’s tasteless. I never really liked it, because the cum I was tasting was always my own, and by the time I came, I was no longer as enamored with the idea. I had orgasmed, and the dirty and perverse fantasies that pushed me over the edge were evaporating into thin air. So it took a long time to get myself to do it, and when I did, I can’t say I liked it. But maybe it would be different if I was still all turned on.

So it looked like I had nothing against any gay activity. I like cock. I love mine, and the idea of pleasing someone else’s doesn’t disgust me in the slightest. It appeals to me, somewhat actively. So what’s the problem?

For a long time, I thought the problem was just a matter of finding the right guy. Finding a guy I was attracted to. I figured it would just happen. But college came and went, and while there were plenty of gay friends who were willing and interested, I wasn’t attracted to them. Life continued, and I found myself more the object of desire from men than from women. But I didn’t feel it. So what’s the deal?

Was it the kissing? I can get past kissing. I’m not even a fan of it generally, but it’s not like I’ve never kissed a man before. It wasn’t a great experience, but I’ve done it. I know what it feels like to have his whiskers against my lips while his tongue awkwardly presses into my mouth. I imagine the ‘real’ thing would be different; we were drunk and playing Truth or Dare. It’s not the same thing.

Anyway, for a very long time, I thought this just meant that I was heterosexual. I may be one of the only people in the world to lament the fact that I subscribe to traditional heteronormative gender and sexual roles. I was resigned to it. I consoled myself by reminding myself that I’m still submissive, masochistic, desperate for humiliation, and have a list of kinks longer than my… well, it’s long. Let’s just say that. So it’s not like I’m normal. That was comforting.

But every once in a while, the question would raise its head again. I don’t have a problem with anal (at least, not with receiving it). I don’t have a problem with oral. I like the idea of getting fucked in the ass. Being told to suck cock would turn me on. Even doing them in that order has a weird spice to it. So why can’t I do anything with a guy?

Maybe it was a matter of strap ons. I know they’re fun. I’ve sucked rubber cock. It’s more humiliating than the real thing, I imagine. Because there’s no pleasure being gained from the act itself, other than the way I’m debasing myself. She likes it because she can make me do it and can insult me for doing it, I like it for exactly the same reason. But a real man would also like it for the whole orgasm thing.

And something about that is appealing too.

I thought I was stuck. Turns out, not so much. The answer was right there in front of me the whole time. I find women attractive, but I like cock. I want to get fucked, I want to suck cock, but I’m only attracted to the female form.

There are three ways to put those things together. There’s the strap on… done that. It’s nice, but not enough. There’s the ‘doing it for her’ thing I talked about… not sure I could do it, even if it came up. But there’s a third option.

What if she has a cock? Not a rubber one, not one that can be removed or switched out for a larger model when she wants to scare me. What if she has a cock that’s just as real as mine, that gets hard, that will cum on my face, that will fuck me in the ass, and that will make her grunt like an animal and have orgasms at my expense? (I love that term. Sex should always be consensual, but ‘having orgasms at my expense’ just has a great ring to it).

That would do it, wouldn’t it? I’d get the thing I’m attracted to (namely, the female form), but I’d also get the cock. And there are lots of ways to find that sort of thing. There are transvestites. There are drag queens. There are the pre-op transgendered (or those who never intend on getting surgery). There are hermaphrodites. Okay, the last one is pretty rare, but the first few aren’t.

But I do need her to pass. I don’t mean that I need people in public to think she’s a girl; I don’t give a shit what people in public think of me. I’d be happy to be with a man on dates. But when it comes to sex, she needs to look like a woman. A woman with a dick. It doesn’t have to be bigger (or smaller) than mine; I don’t care about size. I just care about functionality.

I haven’t found someone like that yet. I mean, I’ve met plenty of people who are women with a penis, but I haven’t met a dominant one that I have hit it off with yet. It seems like a disproportionate number of them are submissive (the whole ‘sissy’ thing), but that doesn’t mean there aren’t dommes with cocks out there. I just don’t know any in a personal (biblical) way. I haven’t played with one. Maybe, if and when I do, I’ll call myself ‘selectively bisexual’ or just bisexual. Maybe I’ll still be heteroflexible.