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What Do Bisexuals Want?

by Jack Random

I want the boy at the video store.
The skinny punk boy
With the pale skin
And the dog collar
And the tattoo of a spider on his chest.
I want an older woman
With short black hair,
An ex-hooker with a bad attitude
And a damaged, hopeful heart.
I want handcuffs and riding crops
And oral sex in semipublic places.
I want a boyfriend with a girlfriend
Who thinks it's cute
And gets hot
When I kiss him on the dance floor.
I want to fall passionately in love
With a woman
Who's slept with more men than I have
(For once), and doesn't care.
I want that boy
Who pretended he was drunk
When I dared him to kiss me
And he did,
Tongues rolling together
Like hot snakes,
Grinding all
Hard and sweet against me,
Right in the middle of the party.
And I want his girlfriend,
The tiny goth girl
In the red velvet dress
Who came up behind him, laughing,
And grabbed his crotch,
Saying, "I knew you wanted this."
I want to hang out in gay bars
And not have to play Fudge-The-Pronoun
All night if I want to get laid.
I want to kiss you.
Right now. In public.
Even if we're in the wrong neighborhood.
Even if "guys never kiss."
Even if you never date bisexuals.
Even if you
Don't even believe bisexuals exist,
I still want to kiss you.
I want to kiss you
And stroke your hair
And go down on you
Because this lesbian I once knew
Showed me just how to do it
And how to rim a straight guy
So he'll want to get fucked,
So he'll start dreaming,
Maybe for the first time
About taking that hardness into himself.
I want to fuck you.
I want to fuck you and I'm not sorry about it.
I want to handcuff
The boy from the video store
And push him down on my bed
And work him up
'Till he's so hot and hard and
Spit slick
That he's begging me to get him off
And he doesn't care
If we are two guys,
He just knows that he needs to come.
Until he can't talk or beg,
Or even think anymore.
Until neither one of us
Even exists beyond the need
To fall,
Flaming
Into the incandescent skin of the other.
Then I want to do it all over again,
With a woman,
While he watches.
Bringing her,
With fingers, tongue and cock
To climax after climax,
The walls ringing with her screams,
Over and over
In that place
Beyond identity,
Beyond need,
Beyond gender and explanation,
Beyond even beyond,
And crashing
Back into our bodies again.
And afterwards,
I want to curl them up,
Boy and girl,
One under each arm
With their heads on my chest,
Breathing, and peaceful, and wordless.
I want to fall in love with you,
No matter who we are,
Or what we think is possible,
Because I believe
In everything honest, sweet and hot.
Because I want the love
That cracks walls
And transcends the tribe.
That,
And I want the boy at the video store,
Because he looks
Like a really good place to start.


Jack Random lives in San Francisco, writes, works 60 hours a week, maintains primary and secondary relationships, plays in the leather community, and does not ever sleep.

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