“‘Cause you and I, we’re cool for the summer”
– Demi Lovato –
It’s jarring how female pop stars are often aggrandized for writing songs about sexual experimentation. You have Katy with her “I Kissed a Girl,” Demi with her “Cool for the Summer,” and Halsey with, well… pretty much all of her songs. However, there isn’t one song about sexual curiosity sung by their straight male counterparts. I mean… there’s no way in hell Shawn Mendes will write a song about touching another man’s penis. Generally speaking, sexual experiments between two men are more frowned upon. For straight men, the slightest form of attraction towards another man is viewed as a detriment to their masculinity, which, apparently, can do tremendous damage to their sex appeal.
And to that, I say – Shit needs to change. Let’s have Nick Jonas and The Chainsmokers write a song about shaving each other’s butthole!
For this chapter, I’m taking you back to the twelve-year-old me: an obscurely ambitious boy in the seventh grade who just discovered the world of porn. I was on a field trip with my fellow members of the student council. In my hands, I somehow had the phone of the president of the student council. Because I was born a messy bitch, I knew I had to do something with his Horcrux. My
compulsive stalking behavior mental acquisitiveness led me to check his phone, which led me to discover his collection of low-quality porn videos “by accident.” Being a closeted horn-dog with raging teenage hormone, I knew I had to get my hands on those videos. So I waited for the perfect moment, and I quietly transferred those X-rated entertainments via Bluetooth. #rebel
And that, ladies and gentlemen, was the beginning of my whoring career. To this day, I have him to thank for everything I know about sex and my sophisticatedly slutty thoughts.
I don’t know if there’s a universally correct order in one’s sexual journey. However, I am, strangely, one of those bitches who learned the art of autonomous gratification before I discovered porn. I would say that choking my chicken pre-porn was a decently fulfilling experience. However, it was a strenuous exercise of imagination, and there were only so many of my mom’s Cosmopolitan magazines I could jerk off to. That fateful night, however, I tried adding porn to the equation, and the end product was a transcendental sensation. My world had changed for the better.
I knew that I had to spread this enlightening revelation to others. I was determined to become the preacher for porn-assisted masturbation.
I decided to turn my best friend from my basketball team into the first disciple of my low-resolution porn fan club. I had known him since I first learned how to walk. I pretty much considered him my little brother, which, for most of you, would make these next paragraphs uncomfortable to read. He was this goofy, athletically-inclined teenage boy with a charm that could easily grab the attention of straight girls and closeted gays. He often spent the night at my house after our evening basketball practice. Our parents knew each other extremely well, they fully supported our brotherly bond and allowed the sleepover to happen often. Because, I mean… nothing scandalous would come out of a sleepover between two horny teenage boys, right? *wink*
One night, I decided to confess to him about my possession of X-rated clips. He surprisingly reacted with no sign of disgust, so I continued asking him if he would like to indulge in the said entertainment. Being an eager student of the human reproductive system, my best friend did not hesitate for one second and immediately dropped his pants off. In retrospect, I think he just didn’t want to come off as a prude. And to that, I say – cheers to toxic masculinity!
Like the chicken wings at Wingstop, the options for the porn I suggested to my best friend varied tremendously. From our standard man and woman vanilla sex to a Tarzan-themed jungle porn, I had them all. Being a fan of a hyper-fictional storyline and layered characterization, I recommended playing the Tarzan-themed porn. My best friend didn’t have a strong opinion against my questionable choice as he’s a porn virgin. So I placed my laptop between our naked legs, assumed the most comfortable position to rub one out, and pressed the play button.
My first time jerking off with someone was awkward, to say the least. We couldn’t help but make a comparative analysis of each other’s handjob technique. While my best friend put a heavy emphasis on frenulum stimulation, I had a more holistic approach to my hand motions. He also moved his hand at a much faster pace, whereas I tried my best to synchronize my hand movement with the tempo of the pornstar’s groan.
I wasn’t sure how it was for my best friend, but I was thoroughly aroused by the whole situation. With that said, I was determined to stay inside the
glass closet at the time, so I put on an Oscar-worthy performance as a straight boy and pretended to be aroused by the bouncing boobs. In reality, I only had two things on my mind: my best friend’s dick and Tarzan’s lusciously long hair.
We somehow turned this late-night mutual masturbation session into our sleepover ritual. And one random night after a basketball practice (I wasn’t sure how railed up we were), we decided to push
my homosexual agenda our experimentation boundaries. It started with my best friend innocently suggesting me to jerk him off. He strangely tried to justify his risqué suggestion with his burning curiosity of feeling a touch on his pee-pee from another human being. I mean… it’s not gay as long our lips didn’t touch, right? So I offered my left hand for him to abuse, and I treated his disco stick with the utmost care. In hindsight, we were clearly delusional to think this was “normal”.
In a move that I didn’t see coming, my friend doubled down on his
gayness curiosity by suggesting to suck each other’s dicks. I was perplexed in the best way possible. His suggestion brought many conflicting thoughts through my mind. Is he also playing for the same team? Or is he just genuinely curious? If we continue with this, would things change between us? Would this make him gay? Would this turn me “straight” if I end up hating the blowjob? Leave it to me to make a blowjob into an existential crisis!
I volunteered to perform the “dreaded” act of sucking a dick first, because #yolo. I took a deep breath as my face inched dangerously closer to his genitalia. My best friend seemed quite nervous, but he didn’t budge or showed any sign of hesitation. The moment the tip of his ding dong entered my mouth, however, I could sense that his soul had ascended to heaven. Don’t get me wrong, my blowjob technique back in the day was subpar, to say the least. Nonetheless, I understood the trivial concepts like the importance of no teeth and proper lubrication (I was born a natural cocksucker). I guess penises aren’t very discriminative when it comes to the hole they penetrate?
The blowjob only lasted for one minute as we both were afraid that had we continued, we would turn to the dark side. However, I still remember when I had a dick in my mouth for the first time, and there was no sign of remorse. Instead, I was filled with joy, and everything felt right. But obviously, I couldn’t let my best friend notice how elated I was, because that would be too gay for me to do. So the next few minutes, our conversations were filled with shit like, “yeah, bro that was good” and “no homo bro”—Hashtag internal homophobia.
I guess it only took one minute and my best friend’s dick in my mouth to solidify the fact that I am a flaming homosexual.
We repeated this endless cycle of sinful bliss: we had a late dinner, locked my room, took a shower, and jerked off to various porn. Even when our families went on a vacation together, we occasionally jerked off in the shower after an afternoon swim. The concept of homosexuality didn’t cross our minds. We inherently knew our late night rendezvous would be something that the society would frown upon, so we worked our hardest to keep it as a secret. For us, it was a sacred moment filled with pleasure. We were just two boys having fun, and we had no intention of putting a label on it.
My friend is now a married to a cisgender straight woman, and they’re expecting their first child. We remain in each other’s lives as, at best, acquaintances. He has not officially been informed that I am now a chaotic homosexual. However, judging from how I passionately savored his dick, he probably knows we’re not playing for the same team. Nowadays, I often wonder if he still remembers our not-so-innocent slumber parties. There hasn’t been a single follow-up discussion on our sexual explorations since our last experiment twelve years ago. Whenever we run into each other now, we act like those testosterone-charged nights never existed. Our late-night mutual masturbation sessions remain an ancient secret that, until ten minutes ago, was only shared by the two of us. Well… except if he told his wife that he once put another man’s penis in his mouth.
Speaking of his wife, I can’t look at her eyes and not think about how she and I have shared the same penis. And what about his son? In five years, when I look into his son’s eyes, would I be able to stop thinking about how I play a minor role in his creation?
I guess what I’m trying to point out from this experience is that, being curious is valid. Sexuality is fluid, and yours should not be labeled based on one innocent experiment. Our sexual preference is a spectrum; it’s not always so black and white. If anything, I encourage you to explore what gives you pleasure sexually. We’re all blessed with a body capable of receiving sexual gratification, and it will be downright wasteful to not play with all the colors in your crayon box.
I wish I had an opportunity to showcase my revamped skillset to my best friend. However, he’s a married man now, and I don’t want to gain a reputation as a homewrecker. I just hope he doesn’t regret being the kick-starter of my journey to becoming an ethical slut.