CONFESSIONS OF A CLOSET BISEXUAL

By Chubfade

I am 27 years old. I’m pretty sure that as early as age 5 I know that I have the tendency to like men. That makes it practically 22 years of hiding in the closet.

Yes. I am a closet, meaning not one in the family or friends or officemates knows that I am a bisexual. As a kid I grew up in a family of 4 children and my mom is the only woman. Yes, an all-boy family and so my orientation was to keep it “straight”.

At first it was hard since being a child I was not trained yet to suppress whatever I feel. And so my childhood friends noticed I was not straight. And they’d call me names like bakla, bading, and others which didn’t hurt back then ‘coz I know that they were right.

But this came to the attention of my family and they believe I wasn’t gay. My dad once beat me with his leather belt when he heard a girl playmate calling me bakla and I didn’t react. “Bakit, bakla ka ba?” and I answered, crying, “hindi po, hindi po!” I also remember my grandmother tried to run after a boy after she heard him calling me aklang (“gay” in a Luzon dialect).

From then on my mindset was being gay is wrong, that gays don’t have a place in the society. So I did try to suppress the feeling and act like an ordinary man should. I know I succeeded.

High school was okay. I fell in love with a girl and I even courted her; too bad I was busted, but I was okay. I was confident then that I was straight.

Likewise, in college, I fell in love again with a girl. The feeling was mutual, but we did not commit ourselves to each other. It was also a mutual decision.

Second year college was my turning point. I have forgotten my tendency to be attracted to men until one day when my barkada invited me over to watch porn. That was the first time I would be able to watch one and was more than excited to come.

It was a pinoy porn and the scene really made me horny. But I noticed that I paid more attention to the guy’s dick than to the girl’s tits and pussy. I was trying to concentrate on the sex thing but my eyes kept focusing on the dick. I was scared. Scared that the long-forgotten feeling of attraction to men would re-emerge and dominate me.

At home after that night out I masturbated and imagined what I just saw, and I came at the image of the guy’s dick in me; not to mention that I unconsciously slid my left middle finger in my ass. At that moment I admitted to myself that I failed… I failed to totally suppress the feeling… I was gay, and  I still am.

But I believe that I’m the bisexual gay. I am attracted to both men and women, not the common misconception that bisexuals are straight-acting gays—that is so wrong.

Until now my parents and friends don’t know my sexual preference, except those people I hooked up with and remain friends. I sometimes ask myself when will I be ready to come out, or, will I ever be? I would say that I’m more comfortable being in the closet and don’t see myself coming out in the near future. I want to settle with a woman and just have lustful escapades with men on the side.

As of now, I only find it difficult not to hide the real me but how to satisfy my sexual urges since I am not out and men who might be interested in me won’t approach me ‘coz they know I’m straight.

REMINISCING

By Chubfade

The first thing I did when I arrived in your city was to look for my guy. Not exactly you, but someone who I think can fulfill my needs.

And then I came across you (you know what site). We exchanged numbers and agreed to meet at that place. It instantly became one of my most favorite spots in your city I still don’t know why until now.

I recall everything like it only happened yesterday. I arrived first, and waited for you for a couple of minutes. I ordered coffee while waiting, and I saw a familiar face. It was my boss, and we chatted for a while. She went back to her place, and still there was no trace of you. I texted what you were wearing, and you said it was an orange shirt.

I finished up my coffee and still there was no trace of you. I was dismayed, and texted someone else to see me at that place. He agreed, and I was glad. After a while, you texted, that you’d be here in ten minutes. I didn’t believe you. My friend was on his way, and was pretty excited too.

And then I saw a chinky-eyed guy in an orange shirt, and you texted you were here. I wanted to walk out and go somewhere else, because I really hate it when I wait for someone. But then I didn’t do that, because I wanted to know the person in front of me. And so I texted my friend to go home. He was sad, of course, but I’d rather see him some other time than leave you and let go of the chance to know you.

Over two bottles of beer we talked. I found you nice, despite the fact that you lied about your age. I hoped that you felt the same. I didn’t know, maybe because I didn’t tell you my feelings either.

I stood up to go, you asked me where I was going. I said that I was going back to my hotel room, and asked you if you would like to come with me. Without hesitation you said yes, and we hailed a cab.

You held my hand inside the cab, and I got excited of what would happen through the night. I knew I was prepared, I wasn’t sure if you were.

We arrived at the hotel, and I asked you to go ahead of me. You were so nice that you obeyed. And so there you waited at the third floor. I walked ahead and you followed. I went in the room, you were close behind. As I enter the room I offered you my wine. You said it was nice, I liked it too.

And everything went smoothly. I showered, you followed. You caressed my back as you gently kissed my ears. You were whispering something to me but I didn’t try to understand it as I was deeply into whatever you were doing to me. You taught me how to kiss more passionately and I appreciate you for that. And we made love through the night wishing that morning would come later than usual.

But the night did end, but for that instance at least. We saw each other after that night and every time was as wonderful as the first. But then again, we both knew that nothing lasts forever… especially the good things.

I had to leave, and you bid farewell to me. We did not see each other that day and I was sad. I wished I was able to rebook my flight to be able to spend more time with you but it was too late.

I left your city, and surely hoped I could come back. I like you, I told you that. I knew you didn’t believe me yet, and I understood. Nobody’s perfect, and I’m no exception. I like you, but there were a lot of things I hadn’t told you about.

Will you forgive me if you came to know everything? I know you will, and I feel more guilty just thinking about it… guilty because you are such a wonderful person that I feel like I don’t deserve forgiveness, at all. But I do thank you. I’m thankful I met you, and I’m thankful that you are more open and vocal you said those words to my face. I didn’t have the courage to that.

I thank you for the wonderful times, you will always be remembered, friend.