Years ago, in my early 20s, I dated a guy named Mike. Now Mike, by all accounts, was heterosexual. Perhaps you’re thinking, Um, hello? Duh. Of course he was. He was dating you, and you’re a woman. But as any lady in her 20s living in New York can tell you, this doesn’t always guarantee straightness. No. It does not. However, Mike seemed thoroughly, authentically hetero. And as evidence of that fact – and just to get down to the nitty-gritty of it – I offer you the following: He had a healthy sexual appetite and, more to the point, he really enjoyed the performance of The Oral Sex. And more to the point, he was unfailingly, ahem, aroused after having done so to moi et moi’s lady-bits.
So this one night, Straight Mike and I were enjoying a couple of post-coital drinks and chitting and chatting, and I – in a pathetic if nonetheless truthful attempt to make him think me more worldly than I was/am – mentioned having made out with a girl in college. I said, “Well, there was this month in college when I kept making out with my friend Barbara.”
I expected him to tell me how edgy, original, and adventurous this was, but instead, he went, “Oh, yeah. Well, I mean, I guess I never think that stuff’s that big a deal. I mean, well, I sucked this guy’s dick, like … last year I guess it was?” Keep reading »
