One Friday after work, Bud joined a younger couple who were pretty good friends of his at a local pub to enjoy a few brews and catch up on what he and they had all been doing. He was approaching the half-way point in his fifties while his friends were respectively just past forty (him), and Julie, she was in her late twenties.
Hermano was a sculptor and Julie mainly took care of their home, gardened and was working on a few college courses as a part time student. Julie looked like the reincarnation of Ingrid Bergman. She was as tall as Bud, with beautiful blonde hair down to her waist, perfectly shaped long legs that seemed to reach from the ground she was standing on to the sky. Bud had known Julie since she had been fifteen, and though the thought had crossed his mind, any male would have to be dead or a strict homosexual to not see her and not at least think of sex, he hadn't really considered trying to be with her. Because she was so young when he first met her, though already fully developed right up to the perfectly modestly large breasts that were as perky with no signs of the slightest sag, she had always remained a child in his mind. Thus, though they rapidly became tight friends, somehow they had just seemed to connect, Bud merely was an outside observer, and occasional advisor to Julie as she grew into an adult, and experienced the normal sometimes happy and sometimes troubled relationships with the men lucky enough to become involved, even if ever so briefly, in her life. Bud had been the classic father, or wise uncle figure in her life ever since she was fifteen, till now as she was approaching her landmark thirtieth birthday.
Hermano was a ruggedly handsome Latino of Cuban descent and though he was slightly shorter than both Julie and Bud, his muscular stocky build made up for any inches he lacked in the height department. After a few years of brief relationships with a reasonable number of men, Julie more or less settled down when she and Hermano met and became an item. They had been together for almost five mostly happy years by the time this story took place and for all practical purposes were a married couple, lacking only the paperwork. Hermano was totally in love with Julie and his love was returned by her. However if Julie had learned anything prior to meeting Hermano, it was that she LOVED sex. Julie loved all kinds of sex, and of course had her pick of sexual partners both male and female. Since they had gotten together, Julie's promiscuous tendencies had almost, but not entirely, gone into remission. The increasingly rare occasions when Julie "cheated" on Hermano were the cause of the rare times trouble reared its head in their otherwise perfect paradise.
Hermano didn't get too upset when he was cuckolded by a woman (or two) who were as likely, if not more so, to hit on Julie as any man with a functioning hormone in his body. When you get right down to it, everything about Julie, her beauty, her sweet nature and her ravenous sexuality that could be felt by people a block away who never had and never would even see her naked, much less touch her.
Bud imagined like most men, Hermano's only complaint then was that he hadn't been invited to participate, or at least get to watch. He thought this was because her lesbian adventures were usually, if not always, with dyed in the wool full time lesbians, who were as likely to hit on her as almost everyman in town and some passing through. The idea of having a man around gawking or 'eek' getting his dick involved in the proceedings was a non-starter with these women. Looking back, maybe this aspect of her sexuality contributed to Bud's own relationship with her. She never seemed to have any desire to try to convert some straight wife or girlfriend to the Sapphic way of life, but gay women tended to hustle her as hard as men. Years before she had first discovered that women too wanted to get naked and crazy with her and it took her no time to realize she was attracted to them back. She like anyone, male or female, growing into their sexuality, found this difficult to resolve in her own mind, especially as she had grown up in a extremely red-neck region where most folks considered anyone involved in 'exotic' sexual practices, pretty much anything beyond yer basic missionary man on top stuff with the lights off, should be rounded up and be locked up or shot.
Indeed looking back, it was her confusion with bi-sexuality that probably helped her friendship with Bud grow even closer, because she was so comfortable with "Uncle Bud" and couldn't go to any of her red-neck parents or relatives who would most likely set up an exorcism or at least somehow have tried to beat this devil of the love forbidden out this most beautiful creation of their genetic line that mostly produced spawn that could have served as the subject matter of a documentary version of "Deliverance."
So when she came to "Uncle Bud" to help her with her newly discovered gender identity crisis, he knew it would be a great help if he told her right out front that he also was attracted to both sexes and had also been tortured for years, wondering if he was gay, and if he was, was that okay. He had eventually come to realize that he wasn't gay because he liked women too much, including having sex with them, and they seem to like him too. On the other hand, he couldn't be a doctrinaire heterosexual or Straigt8. because he liked cock way to much and had learned first hand that assholes feel and taste just as good on both men and women - Bud simply put his arm around her shoulder more in a fatherly than sexual way then and told her,
"Sweetheart, the first thing you gotta do is relax and trust me for a minute or two, cause I think I really understand how you feel and hopefully can help you work it through much faster than the time it took me to finally deal with it."
"What do you mean Bud, the time it took you?"
"Well Julie, you probably have no idea, that I had what I imagine was very similar mental and emotional turmoil in my younger days. In my own case, I think it all started in earnest when I read "A Season in Hell" by Arthur Rimbaud. It is true there was a boy school mate in elementary school that I had feelings toward, though I only realized years later that they were probably sexual somehow and my family moved clear across the country from when he and I were in about fifth grade, and I spent the first few months out west really missing him. Myself and my family didn't move to get us apart, nothing ever happened between us except for playing baseball, riding our bikes and raiding all the fruit trees and berry bushes in the neighbourhood every summer. Once we were 2000 miles away for months I was haunted by idealized memories of him and constantly dreaming up scenarios where I would get to see him again."
"I finally realized that no, I'm not gay, but then I'm not straight either because as much as I like, and I do like, women, I may also enjoy cock as much or more than many of the women in this town or anywhere. My first response to these urges was to double down on my pursuit and capture of women and then even starting a family, but then occasionally the urges toward men and cock would win out and I would enjoy being with a man, and then feel guilty for some time afterward, sort of a post-coital dip, magnified. As time went by I became gradually more comfortable, to the point where I now think bi-sexuality is really natural, and would be the default orientation if it wasn't for all the religious crap laid on us, from a time when perhaps reproduction was more important to the survival of our species. Today it is one of the threats to our continued existence. Now I acknowledge to friends, but don't flaunt the fact that I am bi-sexual, and I have to admit it took me many years to get as comfortable with that as I am today."
