A Month Later:
One of my best guy friends is convinced he’s found my soul mate. Or, more specifically, that he has found the ‘me’ in a male body. This Man-Spice lives in another state, enjoys kinky open sexual stuff, and is a super nice guy. Um, I’m in. So, we’ve been texting and it’s been fun and I told him about this little Bi goal of mine and he got SO STOKED. Ladies & gentlemen: I now have what I’m going to refer to as the bisexual bridge. A smoking hot man who wants to mentor me into sexually enjoying women. He’s like the marijuana of vagina. The gateway drug into lady bits. The VIP host into Club Cervix.
I booked my flight and he is setting up his ‘play room’ and getting logistics sorted. I’m calling it Operation Don’t Say Good-Bi or Operation Baby Bi Bi Bi (but you’ve gotta channel a little Justin Timberlake to make that one work).
A Couple Weeks Later:
HOLY SHIT. It happened. A threesome with Man-Spice and a beautiful woman who I can best describe as a feminine badass who was sexy, smart, funny, and openminded. The details of the threesome will be described in another article as there is a lot to unpack and discuss. But, I popped my lady cherry. I lost my vag-inity. And, I loved it.
Women are incredible and it was so fun to explore a body that mirrored a version of my body. Same parts put together in slightly different ways. We kissed, rubbed, licked, sucked, looked, smelled, touched, and experienced each other and it was a glorious celebration of sexual connection and energy flow that began to chip away at the identity labels I’ve carried with me for entirely too long.
Bi the way. . . I’ll be doing that again. A gay friend told me that I can’t identify as bisexual until I’ve been with three different women and had female sexual experiences not including men. I don’t really care if that’s a fair definition of bisexual or not – it sounds fun and this girl is up for the challenge.