FLIP, SWITCH, RE-VERS, REPEAT

First, a "don't pull the trigger" warning!

Please be advised the following subjects are included: Explicit sexual details - Sexual shaming

Do you want to know how a slutty, twenty-something-‘bottom’, turned into a loving, one man, ‘top’ guy? No? Well, keep reading anyway as you might learn something.

Let’s begin with the basics. A ‘top’ puts it in, a ‘bottom’ takes it inside them. That’s gay sex simplified for the heterosexuals.

But here is the thing, there is a lot of ‘admin’ involved in being the ‘bottom’ guy during sex.

If you don’t know this - then you are either straight, gay, and not into penetration; gay and not sexually active, or just plain uneducated. Quite frankly, it’s a pain in the arse.

It involves a lot of prior planning, some double checking, and always  thinking ahead at lunchtime. It's undressing for the shower, then dressing again in sexy clothes; before taking them off to “just check again”. It’s all about getting the water temperature just right, and then triple checking again.

It can be painful, it can be time consuming, and it can be a helluva lot of work just for a thirty-second thrill. It’s eating the starter and not the main, having the salad, not the steak. It’s not sexy, and quite frankly, it doesn’t get me in the mood.

Don’t get me wrong, when you do finally get to the main act; if it’s good - it’s really good! Even straight people know that these days. 

But it can  prove a huge distraction during a romantic evening; with little or no reward at the end of the night if the other party doesn’t quite reach that, ‘erm sweet spot before they finish. 

It is either  thrilling, or a big disappointment; depending on the night in question and the guy(s) involved.

There is zero spontaneous love making if you are a bottom who likes to be ‘spotless’ in his passion. 

As an ex-partner once said to me “You have to accept that if you're gonna “do-that” (referring to anal sex), you have to remember “Shit-happens!””. 

To be fair, he was absolutely correct, it is frequently all part and parcel of the act because no system is one-hundred percent perfect; and that means sometimes you have to pop back to the shower mid-fuck.

With that in mind, looking back on my fifty-one years, I’m not quite sure why I waited until I was forty-eight until I started to ‘top’.

It is so much easier, so much more spontaneous, free from admin, no time is wasted; and the passion is never lost - that is until the ‘bottom’ you are with needs to go do some ‘admin’.

I don’t remember making a choice to be a ‘bottom’, I never once had a conversation with myself along the lines of ,“Now, you know you're gay and that gay men have sex by putting one man (or several men’s as I was soon to find out!) dicks up another man’s arse – so what role are you going to choose?”.

I do remember finding my dad’s dirty mags one day, at about the age of eleven, and reading a two-page spread entitled, ‘’What do homosexuals do in bed”?

It even came with drawings to demonstrate to the reader exactly what they were describing. But I don’t remember ticking a mental box to accept rather than ‘offer’. It just happened, and I believe this was due to a combination of factors in my case.

First of all, confidence - I never liked my dick as a teenager. I thought it was small and ugly. It certainly didn’t look like the drawings on the two-page spread. 

Secondly, there was no way I would be confident enough to take charge of any sexual situation that would occur in the future – and so I assumed the giver would have to.

My first ‘willing’ fumble in life had been me masturbating with another teenage lad, who then tried to rub his ass against my dick. I was so NOT ready for that, so declined the offer immediately, via words that were unsaid.

When I met my first love, my first boyfriend and the man who would eventually become my ex-husband; we waited about six months before, one night, it just happened without discussion, and I lost my penetrative ‘V’ plates as a ‘bottom’.

I am very, very lucky to be able to say  that in my chosen sex life, i.e. ignoring any sexual experiences that were not consensual; I lost my virginity when I was ready, in a loving, passionate, relaxed and sensual way; with my partner respecting my needs.. 

I’m aware most people’s first time was far from like this, but I am grateful that mine was very much a positive experience.

The first time is rarely the best time.

It was a night of genuinely loving and passionate sex. Without planning it, thinking about it, or even discussing it; I decided I was ready and wanted him, and it just happened. 

It wasn’t painful, nor awkward. It was perfect, and I could not have asked for more. We never talked about it afterwards, we didn’t need to. It was very much about trust and love.

It was actually illegal at the time; I was twenty years old, under the age of consent for gay sex in the 1990s, and he was in his late twenties. He would have been labelled a sex offender, and I a teenage whore who was too young, naive and stupid to know his own mind.

All this labelling for something unplanned, led by our bodies and minds, and actually quite a beautiful experience. Two humans in love joining their bodies in an attempt to deepen the connection between their souls. 

That’s how I view it in retrospect, now that I am a ‘top’ with an emotional perspective. Back then, as a ‘bottom’ eager to leran, and for many years of my life, I think I just liked it up the bum and didn't consider the other position.

The downsides of the experience only became evident in the long-term. But for now, I bloody loved it; loved the feeling, the experience, the intimacy, the passion, the feeling of power he had over me; and mostly - if I am honest, the feeling of confidence that comes with having a man inside you who cannot control himself in the throes of passion. 

When a man cannot help but cum inside of you, you run the world for a few minutes, you have total power over his enjoyment.

It is addictive, it is like heroin. AND you need more.

With this burning desire now alight in me, I realised that I was a ‘bottom’; and credit where credit is due, I was bloody good at it. But unfortunately, my loving, supportive partner wasn’t ever that inspired by penetration, giving or receiving; and thus, things began to falter over the years. 

Me, with a hunger that had been placed inside me quite literally, and him with intimacy issues; an inability to share his sexual desires, and a dis-interest in giving me what I craved. Not just the act itself, but the intimacy of the act.

We eventually split as a couple, and I lived a single man’s life during my 40’s. This basically involved a lot of casual sex, with multiple partners (often in the same bed), enjoying every conceivable version of the thing I had wanted to have enjoyed with the one I loved. I guess some things just don’t work out - that’s life. 

But trust me, I enjoyed discovering what other options there were out there. None were ever as good as that first time though; I think very few people ever get to say that.

At one point, without meaning to sound arrogant, I was THE ‘bottom’ in my county (and also the two that adjoined it). If I wanted sex, I didn’t need to ask twice, and never waited more than ten mins for someone to be servicing my needs. I was a ‘slut’, and I use the term as a badge of honour.

My mind, my body, and I will use both as I please thank-you. Slut shaming is degrading and ridiculous. It isn’t a crime!

It wasn’t damaging - far from it. I cannot tell you the power, the confidence, the utter ‘cool vibes’ you give off after an interesting night of sex. 

Imagine that ‘water-cooler’ moment in your office the next day. Karen from accounts is telling you how she spent her evening making her kids costume for World Book Day. Meanwhile, Mark from I.T has just told you all about his model railway magazine collection.

And you, you are keeping a secret. The whole time thinking, “I am so much cooler than you”. But instead of sharing the details of your wild evening, you keep your mouth shut and say, “I just watched Eastenders”; when really, you had three different men fuck you on a park bench. Priceless.

To be fair, Karen from accounts and Mark from I.T. where probably lying too. They were most likely at a fisting gangbang with Maureen from H.R.

Its confidence building, being wanted and desired, it never damaged me. It was exploration, it was experimentation; it was finding myself, learning my trade, getting the thing I needed at the time, and selflessly, giving out a lot of pleasure on the way. It was community service, and I serviced them, trust me.

But then things changed.

I got older and as most bottoms know, like supermodels, the clock starts  ticking on your ‘career’. No one wants to fuck grandpa’s pussy (or ‘bussy’ as I recently learned it's now called).

Aging bottoms need to settle down with one guy, who is obliged to fuck them for the rest of their days. A bit like musical chairs, but with cocks, or it’s time to stop completely; or better still - try the other option. I did.

From bottom, through vers, and climbing to the top.

It wasn’t a conscious choice though. It wasn’t my decision really. It was bloody love that changed me, the bastard thing. I met a man, a gorgeous man, a manly man. I wasn’t expecting it. 

He messaged me via an app on which my profile declared me bottom/vers. Now, confession time, I had probably ‘topped’ four times in my life at this point, and I was forty-eight by now. 

One attempt with my first husband just didn’t happen. One time in a sauna, however, did. Then there was one occasion each, with two ex-boyfriends. 

To be honest though, I didn’t really want to do it. They wanted me too, however, and so I tried. I didn’t enjoy it though, and they probably didn’t either.

So, ‘Vers’ was probably a stretch.

The first time me and the ‘manly man’ had sex, he took control and topped me. Then, the next day the same thing happened again, twice (just bragging). I thought, “Ok, this is how it’s gonna be and I am happy with that!

The next morning, however, I woke up and for whatever reason, let’s call it ‘blinded by the first flutters of love’; I just did it, I fucked him. It felt natural, it felt good, and somehow - and surprisingly (at least for me), he seemed to enjoy it.

It’s so much easier, so much freer to ‘top’. You can wake-up full of passion (and a hard-on) and just go for it. 

You don’t need to plan-ahead, you don’t need to worry about anything you are doing, you can seduce, you can come on to them, you can be bold, you can be dominating; you can also be timid if they want to take control. You can be anything, and it is very freeing.

Now, I don’t know my ‘number’ (the amount of sexual partners I have had). Do you, and does it even matter?

To be honest, you’d probably need Carol Vorderman doing the Math’s, with Albert Einstein to assist her. 

Even then you’d need to input the numbers into the enigma machine to work it out. I lost count a long time ago (possibly during one session), and I am not ashamed of that.

But I can tell you all of them fade into the category of ‘guy that fucked me once’, compared to ‘the only guy I fucked and cannot get out of my head’ club, which has only ever had one member.

There is something about being penetrated by another man that makes you feel desired, invincible, in-charge. 

However, I have come to realise that someone wanting you to penetrate them, someone desperate for you, presenting themselves to you, almost begging you, getting themselves ready for you, telling you how much they need you, now that - that is true power.

It’s a thrill that makes you feel like the king of the world. You are so wanted, so needed, that they are literally pulling you into their soul. When you add love to that experience, I can tell you that there is no other feeling in this entire world worth a single thing compared to it.

There is no other way to say this, but being inside another human is an experience worthy of the Gods. With this man, I felt I owned him (of course I didn’t!), and that he wanted that. Like we were one, he was part of me, and I part of him.

I felt I was giving him pleasure, using my body to please him, and I could tell he was pleased. I felt powerful, masculine, dominant and aside from all that; it felt incredible to me on an emotional level.

You CAN’T deny what you enjoy, and you shouldn’t.

Joining our bodies, being inside him and spiritually entwined with his soul was an emotional connection, not a penetrative one. I hope he felt the same.

As our relationship progressed, he topped less; while I topped more, much more. It helped me grow in confidence in so many ways.

I started to not only accept my dick was ok, but actually be quite proud of it (I now realise it is in fact not bad at all - code for bloody huge, even though I say so myself, just thought I’d make that known). 

He made me feel incredibly aroused, in a way I had never been in my life. I would orgasm every single time - and usually three or more times in one night. As a ‘bottom’, I had rarely orgasmed during sex, but often after they had left, I would masturbate alone.

To ejaculate with another man, inside another person and one you love and respect; became a spiritual experience. It really did blow my mind. and heart, open.

As time passed, I found myself still yearning to be penetrated but mainly out of habit I think. This led to some confusion for me though.  

He never made an effort to want to be inside me, yet so many before him had insisted on it. Some part of me wanted to be wanted by him; yet I was very wanted, just for a different part of my body.

I realised it was time to accept who I was now, who old father time had turned my inner-whore-boy

into, and who I wanted to be now. I was a ‘top’. Sure, I didn’t have the experience I had as a ‘bottom’, but I was learning.

My dick was pretty big - by the look on my partner's face anyway; and it was certainly thick enough. I didn’t have any problem getting hard, and by the fact he was always up for it; I must have been pretty good at doing it to his satisfaction.

I learned to love my dick, to put my ass into retirement - I’m fifty-one, it was time I learned to relish being the ‘top’, to be the one who took charge.

I learned that it wasn’t important who wanted, or nowadays, who didn’t want, my ass.

It was only important that I satisfied the man I loved, and that he wanted me. No one else mattered, and that is the story of how I ‘caught’ monogamy.

Flash forward five years however, and suddenly I am single again. 

So, what the fuck do I fuck now? Am I top or tail?

The first rule of getting over someone who broke your heart is to get under someone else, right? Well, that’s ok if you know what you are and where you're putting it. 

As a gay man in 2024, it’s so easy to have sex, it’s actually quite intimidating. With the constant presence of gay dating apps (shagging apps), most gay men have completely banished any conversation or pre-sex chat, and literally start conversations with a close-up photo of their ass and a “Wanna fuck? Now? Mine?”.

Well, yes, in my head I do! But I need time to think, I need to work out who I am now. Ten years ago, I was an eager shag, and I knew my place (on all fours usually); but now I don’t know what I want or what it means. 

I experienced monogamy, or at least have enjoyed it for the past years. Where do I go from that now though?

Secondly, I now prefer a sexual experience that for me carries a huge emotional weight to it. Something beautifully intimate that creates a unique and precious connection with another. I can’t just stick it in anything, can I?

I am left with the choice of celibacy, going back to a practice of ‘one in, one out’ casual sex as a ‘bottom’ -who barely remembers the faces of the men behind him; or being a guy desperately wanting to connect to someone on a spiritual level, while aware they are the one in, one out ‘bottom’ - I just described.

I could literally be either, erm’ end, of this spectrum! 

It comes down to this really, trust. I trusted my first partner to take my virginity with me, not from me. When trying any new sexual position, in any relationship, trust is essential. It often staggers me how quickly and flippantly some people break it in life.

Building trust requires time and getting to know someone, not a common part of casual sex. So, what are the options? I can go back to what I know, and just enjoy the moment, but miss out on the connection, I suppose. 

I could try to connect with someone new and build a bond of trust and intimacy again (not likely though). Or I could try to be in a “flip” situation. 

If not that, there is always this new thing people are labelling themselves as, a ‘side’.

To flip, is to be both ‘top’ and ‘bottom’ during a sexual encounter. One does the deed, then they flip over (on to their backs one assumes) and the other ‘has a go’- so to speak. 

Could be the best of both words, or require anxiety-attack inducing levels of admin and pressure - with all the expectations of technique and performance. Not sure that’s for me. 

I can’t help but think that it may also become a competition of endurance and stamina - when two men are involved and testosterone is pumping. A hard ‘no’ from me then thanks, pun intended.

A ‘side’ is a relatively new term and comes from the good old USA - where you may have previously ordered a ‘side’ of fries to go alongside your burger. Basically, it is a term used to describe gay men who prefer sexual acts other than anal penetration; such as oral, mutual masturbation and frictional techniques. 

These activities are sometimes called ‘outercourse’. This is my new favourite word to throw into random conversations.

“Are you and the Mrs having any good outercourse recently Henry?”

Give it up and find another hobby, is how I read that last option. 

You can call me a slut, a whore, a cock jockey, an easy lay…. I’m good with that, and trust me, in certain situations that can be a massive plus (nudge, nudge, wink, wink). Actually though, it’s the passion of the sexual act that I really enjoy; especially when the person I am  doing it with means so much to me. 

The pleasure is there either way, but whatever you are doing, and whomever it is with; it’s intimacy, trust and respect we are really talking about here.

It’s not just ‘sex’, and there are no ‘sluts’. We are all just doing what comes naturally - when we want to express our inner needs, and often that is simply just to be wanted by another human being.

As for me, to be honest, having tried everything once, and somethings several times just to be sure; the only thing I really want to get my clothes off for now is true love. Sad, I know.

Truth be told, and in all honesty at fifty-one years old - as a confident, out, gay man; I am actually more confused now about my sexuality than that eleven-year-old boy reading his dad’s porno mags.

I need a sexual map to guide me to my next destination, because right now, I am hopelessly lost between the, erm, ‘top’ and the ‘bottom’ of it all.