It takes a lot to shock me, but I freaked out when my new crush James told me that he sometimes sleeps with men. “I’m about 80 per cent straight,” he said. And when I asked if he was bisexual, he told me that he prefers the term “sexually progressive”. “I was hoping you’d be OK with exploring this,” he said.
I consider myself an open-minded person, so I’m ashamed that the first thought that ran through my head when I heard “bisexual” was “closeted gay”.
Still, I knew that James’s confession took guts. It’s become socially acceptable, and even trendy, for a woman to admit to a same-sex fling. I thought about all the times I’ve seen two tipsy women encouraged to kiss at parties for the benefit of male co-workers, and I think the reaction would be completely different if it was two men.
Which is ironic in a country where spectator sports are hugely homoerotic. I can’t be the only girl who fast-forwards through football matches just to see the men strip off and hug, and fantasise about what they do in the locker room afterwards.
But James was a bit vague about what he wanted from me. “Exploring” could mean anything from me dressing in overalls and pretending to be a burly handyman to him actually picking up a handyman and bringing him back to our bedroom.
I talked to my male friends, and a few admitted to “dodgy experiences” at public school. A personal trainer who is the very definition of an alpha male confessed that he’s had sex with two men. “I consider myself straight, but I’ve been experimental in the past,” he said. “I don’t usually tell girlfriends because there’s such a ridiculous double standard for men.”
But perceptions may be changing. After all, David Bowie went from sleeping with both sexes to devoted husband and father.
I’m sure that my own experience is coloured by one of my first boyfriends, who claimed to be bisexual but was actually gay, and later became a drag queen. I thought he had a drug problem because he kept disappearing to the loo with my handbag, but it turned out that he was borrowing my eyeliner.
However, I was determined to give James a chance, especially since I felt guilty about having sent flirty texts to the doctor who treated my eye the week before. So I went home, and put on loads of gay male porn. Then, feeling myself getting unexpectedly turned on, I called James and asked him to tell me about his most recent hook-up.
He told me that he’d recently kissed a friend of his, a gorgeous rugby player who I’ve met, and thought about going further. I wasn’t sure how much I would be able to handle, but having two men has always been a major fantasy of mine – and picturing the two of them together got me hot.
Witnessing it in the flesh could be a stomach-turning experience. Then again, it could be amazing. So we made a date for next week with the rugby player and a bottle of Jack Daniels.