KDaddy23

By this time, eh, I wouldn't say that I was an expert when it came to being bisexual but I understood it; homosexuals were very much hated but I understood them, too; I would turn other guys on to this and they'd wind up being bisexual like me and I learned something about being straight and the many things that would and could make a guy not want to be straight and, usually, due to an inability to have sex with girls.

But I was overconfident and still a bit naive because I fell into a man's trap; he talked me into going home with him, gave me a soda to drink - and I'd gotten drugged with something and... he had sex with me and a lot of it before the drug wore off - and I felt that he didn't think it would wear off as fast as it did - and I tried to kill him for raping me; during the fight with him, a table leg got broken and I grabbed it and beat him with it until he stopped moving and I ran away and didn't care if he was just knocked out or I had killed him.

But because I understood why people had sex, I... didn't blame him all that much because it was my fault for being naive enough to fall into his trap. The "moral" of this part of the story is that many years later, I ran into him again and saw that he still bore the injuries I'd given him that day and the funny part was that I recognized him immediately - but that hadn't happened for him. He'd asked me if I had a light for his cigarette and I gave him one and waited to see if he would recognize me - and then he did. He pissed all over himself and I just looked at him before he literally ran off and I felt... vindicated but I had also realized that even though he got to me in an underhanded way, the sex he had laid on me was very good and he did nothing to really hurt me... but it was still my fault for being stupid.

And life would go on from there.