Sex Chat

One of my best gay friends Bee (the mate from 'A Very Interesting Test Conversation') came over at the weekend for a catch up, to share gossip about a night out with some mutual friends over the weekend and to discuss her love life.  She's been single for two years now, after being in a relationship for five and it seems she's really got into the swing of single life..

Her: I really like this new girl, the sex is good, we have alot on common and my heart flutters when I see her.  I haven't felt like this in a long time
*she checks her phone*
Me: You seeing if she's text you?
Her:  Nah my previous shag has come back on the market and ill hoping she'll text me to hook up
Me: But you were just saying about how much you like this new girl!
Her: Well the shag is in town, the new girl isn't.  More likely to get sex with the old shag, ergo I want her to text.  Priorities.  Don't tell the new girl I'm shagging someone else
Me:  Ha, why would I!  Your not officially together so you could be shagging them both at once and it would be acceptable
Her:  Yes very true. I'm also curious to see if my previous shag has got better in bed
Me: You do know curiosity killed the cat
Her: Cats have nine lives
Me: Point taken

I love my mates.  They have a habit of making things wonderfully simple.   She then proceeded to tell me she'd shagged ten people in the last two years..

Me:  You haven't shagged ten people, you've shagged eight.  I know this as you have told me in very intricate detail about each one
Her:  I know I tell you too much, however it is definitely ten
Me: *lists eight*
Her: God, you are right!
Me: You might be thinking of that Italian chick who you nearly had sex with but didn't and the couple who you had a threesome with, but the guy didn't actually touch you and you didn't touch him
Her:  Oh yes.  It disturbs me that you know this
Me: It disturbs me that you tell me
Her: OK.  If you think you are so smart, list them in order
Me: I don't have that good a memory and I do have better things to remember then who you have shagged.  Besides, alot of them overlapped
Her:  Very true.  You love hearing my stories don't you
Me:  Well I dont have any choice.  You dont even say hello, you just start a conversation with 'guess who I shagged'.  However, something eventful happens every time you shag someone, its amazing!
Her:  My pleasure equals your entertainment.  Everyone's a winner

And its really true.  If either of us have a bad day at work we will email each other, go to the pub and talk about sex.  It really cheers us up.  Having a beer and talking about sex has to be one of my favourite past times.

Two Different Worlds

Being bisexual can make some feel like they are hovering between two different worlds, the heterosexual and the homosexual.  Bisexuals not only face possible discrimination from one, but often both.  I’ve been very lucky, I haven’t really faced this (well not to my face), I’ve always had a solid group of friends since I’ve been out.  I may get an occasional sarky remark, but it’s usually in jest and not something I’d deem offensive.  Therefore, I havnt really experienced feeling torn between the two worlds.  That is, until I leave Brighton.

This weekend I was struck by the fact I live in two different worlds, one in which I have my family and one in which I have the rest of my life; my partner, my home, my friends and my writing.  Now this isn’t to say anyone has made me live a certain way in a particular place.  Far from it.  Its just as humans, you react to environments in different ways.

The two worlds..

One:  Surrey.  Grandparents house.  Bone china.  Roast Sunday lunch.  Green lawns.  Millionaire mansions. Money. Speaking ‘correctly.’ Being courteous.  Dressing smartly.

The other: Brighton. Home. 5 year old mugs.  Spud and hoops.  The Sea.  Tramps in parks.  Student housing.  Being skint.  Using slang.  Wink and a wave.  Dressing like a dyke.

I go back to this other world and feel like I stick out like a sore thumb.  Its like I have 'gay' tattooed across my forehead.  However much I try and fit in, I feel feel I dont.

I find it very bizarre both going home and visiting my grandparents.  Partly as they aren’t 100% supportive of my lifestyle and also because it’s like stepping back in time.  In my old room I still have my ex’s photo in a frame and it’s exactly like it was 6 years ago when I left home.  Not a single thing has changed.  The strangest thing is it somewhat feels like I’ve gone back to my old mind-set when I’ve been there a few days.  I go shopping and I buy different clothes to ones I’d buy in Brighton; straighter and more modest.  I also start eating things I haven’t eaten for years, things I haven’t even thought twice about since last being at home.  Salted peanuts.   Battenberg cake.  Sultana cookies.

It’s strange, going from one world to the next; the hour train journey between the two creates an effective buffer.  A buffer from gay to straight; straight to gay.  I am of course, overly dramatic but it’s true, others feel this too. 

It's not I dislike going home, far from it.  I enjoy going home, being pampered and spending time with my family.  Its just one of the few times in my life where I'm hugely conscious of who I am and where my life is heading. 

Break up Sex

With pride coming up in just over a week, I am reminded of a break up just over three years ago with my first girlfriend whom I dated on and off for a couple of years.  Just after the break up I went to my first pride, both hoping I would see her and hoping I wouldn't.

We'd broken up for numerous reasons, partly because I was in the midst of coming out and was finding my emotions very difficult to cope with, and partly because she wouldn't open her heart to me.  I knew she wanted to but had been badly hurt in the past, so like a mother shielding its new born baby she defended her heart.  Post break up wasn't awful, we had parted before and I was somewhat accustomed to it.  I was sad but glad I did the right thing. I was mixed up, I needed someone stable and she couldn't be stable for me.

My first pride came around and I was excited.  Multi-coloured tutu? Check.  Rain mac? Check. Mobile phone in case I wanted to pick up numbers?  Check.  The day came and went, we had a great time (albeit the rain storm).  The evening came and myself and a few friends went to a local gay bar.  There she was.  I only ended up staying for an hour in the end, pride exhaustion had set in and the club was small, where-ever I looked she was there.  I'd spoken briefly to her and that was enough, likewise I couldn't pull because it would look like I was rubbing someone else in her face.  I decided to be the bigger person and leave.

I got outside the club and my phone was laden with texts "Hi, how are you?" "You having fun?" "Come and talk to me."  I text her back "Ive just left, have fun with your mates."  Half way home I got another text "Ive left, I'm coming back to yours."  Impressive since she had friends staying with her.  "Ive left them with the keys, they know their way back" she continued.  So she came home with me.  We did the deed and held each other.  A few occasions after that we slept together but it happened less and less; slowly reducing to nothing.  It was both physical and mental break up sex, not only the physical act but the emotional act of both being close to and withdrawing from your previous partner.

I would say about half the people I have dated I have indulged in break up sex with.  Sometimes its the best sex ever and sometimes its just sad.  I wonder if being a few years older, I'd still do the same if myself and my partner went our seperate ways.  Who knows.