Ever since junior high school at age 13, I knew I was bisexual. I’ve always been a bit of a rebel, but a considered rebel. I have always tried to think things through, and don’t necessarily go along with the masses, just because everyone else does a thing. I also don’t do something rebellious without thinking through the consequences. Having been taught to be a free thinker from an early age by my parents, I’ve been rather successful with my think-for-myself philosophy.
So part of that was deciding to be bisexual right from the get-go. It really opened doors for me. I’ve had a large number of spectacular encounters with many great boys, girls, and then men and women. The women and girls in my early life, have always been attracted to the openness of a guy who can come right out and admit bisexuality. The men and boys figured I was a safe bet to try out their own gayness or bisexuality.
I’ve always been discrete. I’d never tell anyone who else I slept with, or what I did with them. On the other hand, many of the people I played with, especially in my younger days, would easily tell everyone in sight – except maybe their parents – that they had played with me. Even many of the guys. Go figure!
So my reputation spread. And that was a good thing, because I’ve always been horny. My parents taught me early on that masturbation is a good thing. They told me it relieves stress, is good for physical health, and keeps horniness from building up to an intolerable level.
I say, “Why would anyone meditate when they could masturbate?” I do believe the benefits of masturbation far outweigh meditation. So, I always had guilt-free play with a whole bunch of people. Fortunately my parents told me everything about STDs and all that, and being one who thinks things through, I decided to become quite satisfied with non-penetrative sex in most cases. The only exception has been my wonderful wife, who I have been with for 22 years, and with whom I have two beautiful children. Yup, they’ve both told me that they are proud to be bisexual also.
Anyway, back to junior high school. It was called ‘junior high’ back then. Today it seems to be ‘middle school.’ Oh, I’m rambling, I know:) So, I developed a little technique I called the “Sex Test,” and all my male classmates just loved it. They told each other, and eventually, most of them came to me to administer the test.
They all wondered if they were gay, which was considered a bad thing in that time and place among 13-year-olds. So they’d come to my little treehouse in the backyard, into which I had dragged a slightly torn-up massage table I found in the trash. I’d throw a sheet on it, and I’d run the test. I’d have them take off all their clothes in the summer, or just lower their pants in the winter (winters were fairly warm in that part of California), and get on the table. I’d hand them a whole series of photos of sex. Some pictures were hetero, and an equal number were gay. I don’t remember where I got them, but I do remember cherishing the collection.
While my fellow students were examining the pictures, I’d start to massage them. For many, it was the first time their little penises had been touched. Mine was just as small and hairless at the time.
Some would come to me all quivering with, well, I don’t know what. Maybe fear, maybe nervousness, maybe anticipation. Some would be erect even before their pants came off. Some took a while to become erect. Most, at the time, were too young to ejaculate, although there were a few who had a full bush of hair and could cum in buckets – which I loved, since I myself, although I had already had many orgasms, couldn’t actually produce any cum. Many, like me, had dry orgasms. For several, I gave them their first-ever orgasms. In any case, They’d all leave in a most satisfied state! Well, sometimes they’d be a bit freaked out, but then they’d almost always come back to me a week or so later, and sheepishly ask me if I had any other ‘tests’ they could try, or if there was some way to repeat the experience. Of course, I always had something for them to try next. But that’s for another story.
For the ‘test,’ I’d typically start with very light touching of their scrotums, unless they were too ticklish. Then, I’d just gently handle their penises with my fingertips, and eventually work up to stroking them in earnest. I remember noticing that most of their penises were no bigger around than my thumb. Nowadays, the people I wank with are much bigger, of course. I just loved this business of jacking guys off – still do – and didn’t necessarily need reciprocation, although many of them did come back often after the ‘test’ and reciprocated most generously.
In the test, the moment they orgasmed, I’d grab the picture they were currently holding. If it was a man, I’d pronounce them ‘bisexual.’ You’ve gotta remember, calling them ‘gay’ would have sent them into a world of despair, yet calling them bisexual was just fine. Such is as it was then, with those kids. I was no psychologist (as you know, I am now), but at least I knew enough not to pronounce them ‘gay,’ and I think those who got the ‘bisexual’ title were relieved and appreciative. Those who were holding a girl’s picture would be pronounced ‘normal’ but I’d usually give my little spiel about everyone is somewhere on the hetero-gay continuum, with no one being entirely at one end. (I still say that today.)
A surprising number of girls came to me for ‘the test’ also. I never did settle on a standard technique for the girls. I always wanted to see their breasts, whether they were fully developed or not, so I insisted on full nudity. Why almost all of them complied with no complaints is something I still wonder about to this day. I’d generally hand them the pictures, and as they were going through them one by one, I’d rub their clits until they orgasmed. After a while, I learned to have them put their knees up, giving me full access. Then, I’d press a finger of my other hand gently against their little assholes. This way, I could generally feel when they were orgasming.
I took this test surprisingly seriously. I wanted to do a good job, so with the boys and the girls, it was important to notice when they started orgasming.
With some of them, even though I was pretty sure of the exact moment that the orgasm started, I’d tell them I wasn’t quite sure, so they should probably come back in a few days for another test. No one complained!
This went on until I was about sixteen, and then I don’t really know what happened. Perhaps I used up everyone in my school who wanted the test, or maybe I became bored, moving on to more interesting masturbatory pursuits, some of which I’ve told you about right here on Sex270.com.