Bi or For the Boys?

I have been asked this a number of times but I was asked by this guy I chat to on Twitter. He was asking questions, I was answering because I always want to engage anyone in the chats about sex. And to his credit he was giving some good info back, so I was very happy to trade.
He was asking if I’d ever been with girls, I said I had. He asked how many, I’m not sure. He asked how far had it gone, I said I’d slept with a few – not with a strap on or fisting, but I’d had my mouth on their holiest of holies or their tongue in mine. I think that classifies as sleeping with? Either way it was more than just a Katy Perry kiss.
So he asked did I think I was Bi – he was genuinely curious and just wanted to know. As someone who had admitted to me that he had dabbled with same sex experiences himself I was happy to entertain the conversation. Maybe he was wondering about himself? I don’t know. I liked chatting to him, I loved his stories. But Twitter DMs are not the best medium for getting the real meat.
And I started to think about my encounters with girls and what I genuinely thought about them, really tried to answer the question that I felt I knew the answer to.

So I counted how many girls I’ve been with. 13 I think, that’s 13 that I can remember kissing and the experience being noteworthy, bankable if you will.
I didn’t sleep with all of them, I think I’ve only slept with three, four on a technicality. And one that I really, really wish I had but a really inopportunistic boy got in the way (I know that’s not a word but it should be, coined just for him, the idiot, he could have seen two hot girls at it)
I really wish it had happened because I liked this girl, we had so much fun together. We worked in the same bar, but she was still a student, we’d never have been in the same circles, we’d never have met. She was a structural engineer and I was arts. She was country and I was city. I swear all her friends disapproved of me. But this night she was just the right side of drunk and knew this was her only chance to kiss a girl. She’d seen me with The Very First Girl, she knew I was open to it. She wouldn’t have done it with any of her other friends, wouldn’t have been able. So she kissed me, that’s right, she kissed me it was great. She tentatively asked what it was like to kiss a girl, I told her it was soft and probably more technically pleasing than most boys, if she ever wanted to know I was happy to oblige, so she stopped being tentative and came and took it. And she was really direct, she said, outright ‘I want to make you come, I think I can, I think I’ll be able and I want to try’ I was also the right side of drunk and I was actually excited at this prospect, I don’t think any boy had said this to me yet. It was a delicious thing to hear. And then… ruined. We were spotted. As she led me towards the bed, and pushed me gently onto it and fell on top of me, the door was a jar, and he walked past. Just as she had shifted my tight dress up a bit over my hips he caught a glimpse and started shouting the odds. Ok, he was my boyfriend. And the manager of the bar. I’ve just never understood what he was so angry about? Anyway, that was the end of that, the spell was broken and the chance never presented itself again.

So what of the ones I have been with? That I did manage to get the knickers off or who managed to get inside mine?
I don’t think this counts but it was a girl that cleverly got inside my pants, now that I think of it! It was very well executed. She was not the type you would ever think had any leanings. She was the girlfriend of one of my boyfriend’s friends. Not a friend he liked or had that much in common with. She was brash and funny and made no apologies for anything, she was tiny and gorgeous but in a glamour model way? Which isn’t my look at all or what I would go for. But she was a ball of energy and fun and she had the tits I STILL wish I had. They turned up. I’m not sure we had anything but our boyfriends in common but I just liked this girl. She was always giving me compliments which I never thought anything of. Like, she used to tell me she loved the way I walked, the way I carried myself. If I went to the loo she would tell me that she had watched me walk off and that I swayed and she loved how my hips were. I just thought she was being nice. I was bigger than her and I loved her tiny perfect figure and was always saying so – I thought she was just reciprocating and struggling to find something to use, so she said this.
So one time we’re out, she’s asking how I am, we’ve had a few and I admit that I’ve just gotten waxed, she asks if it was a good job. Pretty standard enquiry, we’ve all had it go badly. I told her it had been a great job and I was delighted with it, it was a landing strip Brazilian, to be specific. So she tells me she’s just gotten waxed too, but she went for the Hollywood. And she asks if she can see mine? Again, this was very standard practice with us when we were first getting it done. I agreed and we went to the loo. We went into a generous sized cubicle and I leaned against the door and pulled my jeans down then caught my knicks in either thumb, kinda enjoying the reveal, and slid them down too. She was sitting on the toilet almost head height with my smooth cunt. She declares it a nice job and asks can she touch it, I agree, because I am very proud of how lovely it is. But she gets on her knees in front of me and runs a tiny hand over it. Then she looks up and asks can she give it a little kiss? I’m a little surprised I just never thought she would be into girls. Never judge a book eh? Of course I agree so she gives it a little kiss, but then she catches it with her tongue, parts the lips as she pulls her tongue just up to the hood where the clit is and it feels too nice so I, like an eejit, stop and say ‘show me yours’. She lifts her dress and it’s beautifully bare, she asks me to give it a kiss. I do and I want to do more. But I’m really thrown. Her boyfriend kinda scares me and mine is outside, we’ve been gone a while. This boyfriend is Don Draper and probably ok with this but still, I actually give a shit about what he thinks and this is his home town we’re in, a small town at that. So me and the tiny girl have a little kiss and we run out guilty, knowing looks all over our faces.
I straight away tell Don, he hardly blinks. He knows. That she’s had more girls than guys and he was pretty sure that’s what was happening in there. It didn’t faze him. He was so cool. It’s a shame we never got to have a threesome, he’d have been spectacular.
And that’s how she got in without me even knowing it was happening.

But that’s nor real sex either is it?
And this doesn’t really address the question does it? Do I think I’m Bi – honestly I don’t think I am. I think just because I’ve been with girls isn’t enough to create a definition like that. I like girls, I love to look at them, I am noted as the biggest perv in my gym, or at least I think I am, noted by me not because anyone has asked to stop leering.
Even just today as a female colleague was standing at my desk she turned around twice to grab something off the printer and I totally checked her out. She caught me too and called me on it ‘Do I look fat in these pants or something? You’re looking at me weird?’ No love, they look great, I was checking you out.
And I was, they were quite tight and she looked great. I’m glad I told her, people need to hear it, but I probably should have just said ‘I like your pants’ but I’m a perv and I can’t help looking.
But do I want to be with girls? Does it turn me on or am I doing it for someone else, am I doing it to get noticed, for a reaction. Am I doing it because it’s now expected?
Because it’s easy for girls, culturally sanctioned for us to experiment with each other?

So another girl I properly slept with was again an accident. But it was proper sex. I can categorically say I was rubbish. I was really drunk and excited and I lacked any finesse or skill or ability. I think about eating girls so much, I really do. I love the taste of my own pussy I want to taste other girls to see what they taste of, I imagine them in my head as tasting fantastic. I want to do to them what I want done to me, I want to tease them the way I want to be teased myself. I want to take my time, and spend hours down there. But I also want to be fucked while it’s happening. That’s it right there one of my ultimate fantasies, I get to eat a beautiful cunt, lap at it while someone fucks me from behind.
But that’s not how this happened. It was me, her and a boy. To give him credit he was indeed paying enough attention to both of us. But I didn’t know where to look, what to do or more importantly what I wanted to do or have done to me. There was too much to choose from. There was too much to do. I think I was just grabbing at everything and shoving my tongue or fingers everywhere. Not taking my time, not doing it the way I dreamt in my head not asking him to fuck me while I ate her. I panicked I think I tried to do too much at once not wanting to disappoint anyone but not knowing what anyone wanted. At some point she got up and said she’d had enough – possibly quite abruptly. Turns out she had started seeing someone and the guilt had come knocking. So she got dressed and I walked her downstairs. But she didn’t leave. We started kissing in the hall way. And then she leaned me against the wall and started to undo the top of my dress again. It got quite heated and we were really wearing into each other. It was exciting and fun – but was I fully turned on? Was it just because I could? I did like it, but I wanted cock. I always want cock. I’m not sure a girl by herself is enough for me. I don’t know if it ever would be, a girl has never made me come.
She wasn’t going to come back upstairs but we stayed there for ages, I went down on her trying to do a better job this time but we’d already opened the front door, and the realisation that the sun was up and I was on my knees with my face in her cunt was the end of it. It was time for her to go she said.

I like girls, I like kissing them but does it get me off? I’m not sure. There always seems to be an interruption or a third element to things.
Why was I still doing it?

I’d been with The Very First Girl a few times, but I loved her, still do love her. We are best friends and sometimes when it’s culturally ok to do something even though you’ve never consciously thought of it definitively like that, that you had society’s permission, you just want to kiss someone you love. And I think a lot of times that’s why we were kissing. And a lot of the time it was because we were young and bored and maybe looking for a reaction. But I don’t think we were ever doing it simply because someone wanted it or expected it?
But when it went to more than just kissing, when it was behind closed doors? It was more often than not: me, her and her boyfriend. Which was ok with me, we were a tag team and he had the wherewithal to realise this and not spook the horses! He just let happen whatever was going to happen. We mostly dominated him, took turns licking his cock, teasing him. The power dynamic was new to us. I enjoyed that, I liked the idea of him wanting us both and me and her being in it together. That was probably what turned me on. But I think she might have been doing it for him? I’m sure she enjoyed him watching us too but I think the main driver for her was for him to enjoy it.
I know I never made her come.
This threesome arrangement went on longer than it should have – I loved the idea in my head. We would wear matching underwear but in different colours and dance around in high heels or better, high heeled boots and tease him and make him beg for it. The nights out ended like this so many times I can’t tell them apart. And I enjoyed it, I enjoyed being open to things, getting to do stuff that I hadn’t before to see what it is I wanted. But it was never my show, I was always the guest appearance and so I never asked for anything.
I’m not sure I knew what I wanted. It always just seemed great in my head. Seemed like a great idea in my head?

And now. Well maybe I’ve been looking at this all wrong? Recently while on a tough gym session with The Very First Girl – yeah that’s right we’re still friends, no longer interested in benefits – I was surprised how much I enjoyed weight training with her. She knows what she’s doing which is always hot and reassuring but that wasn’t it. It was because she was in control telling me what to do, directing things. I think that’s what I really liked about it, the surrender. I’m not saying that being in the gym turned me on, it didn’t per se although I was aware at times that we were the only two girls in there and she was leaning over me spotting me with quite a bit of hands-on correcting my form – maybe this was being watched by the guys? Besides that thought fleetingly crossing my mind I wasn’t there thinking about sex. I didn’t feel sexy, it didn’t feel sexy. It was the next day as I thought about why I liked it so much that I realised? I think I like giving in to someone knowing more than me, to relaxing and having someone else in charge, not having to do it all myself. And then it hit me – Maybe if I was with a girl that took control, like completely took it, would I be more into it? And now, thinking about the gym session right now, I am a little turned on.

Which answers none of my questions – once again I’m brought full circle back to the hypothesis that I like the idea and the fantasy of a girl more than the reality. I love it in my head. I love thinking about it, I wish I could have another girl, I wish I could play with tits in my mouth. Undo some knickers slowly, breathe in that gorgeous girl smell. But now I suppose I have a brand new fantasy, one that I know I haven’t exhausted or haven’t proven wrong. I am now thinking about a girl telling me what to do to her, telling me to get on my knees and eat her. As she stands over me in black underwear and heels (naturally), grabbing my hair and pulling my face into her, she pulls her knickers to the side and gives me her cunt almost sitting on my tongue. Using my mouth as she wants or telling me how to eat her and tongue fuck her. I’m wearing see through underwear and she pinches my nipples through the lace as she works herself on my face. The key here is that she is utterly in control and she’s doing this because she wants it, not for an audience but because it turns her on and is getting her off. This is my fantasy so of course anything I want happens which, without question, would be her producing a strap on and bending me over and fucking me after I’ve made her come. She would intermittently stop and eat my pussy then kiss me then flip me round and start fucking me harder. Eventually she would finish me with her mouth and then tell me that it was time I fucked her.
This would play in a loop – of her coming and me coming.

I like girls. The thought of them certainly gets me off, fantasising about them gets me off – but reality has yet to live up to it. So I’m not Bi and I’m not into girls because boys think it’s hot. It just is what it is – I love sex and girls are part of my fantasies.

I’d say I’m probably not done with girls yet.

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