Going on a dating hiatus

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He had his back to me, and he was holding the lead rope to make sure that she was okay and also to prove that I’d actually done it Because I didn’t get to know her first, and I’ve since come to understand that enthusiastic participation makes the experience better. I think a lot of people build up that first experience and whether they are straight or a zoophile. We were in a barn with all the lights out and a nice warm heater; it was lovely.

I’ll tell you about the first time I had sex with my current mare friend. So, she was settling in for the night, and I went to the stall and I just sat in the corner.

I always was on the lookout for horses when I was traveling. It’s not as if I didn’t have friends or engage in activities, but I was a little nerdy and not at all athletic. I don’t think I had any more or less trouble with the “in” crowd than any other kid, and I know a few people looked up to me for my abilities in math, science, and the fact that I was always willing to help people. That was about two months after I lost my virginity, so I was about 22.

I saw farms that I’d have loved to go explore, but they were never near my home. Before the age of about 10 there was no more than some “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” Then it was pretty boring until high school. In all honesty, I’ve never liked kissing men; rough beards do not turn me on. And losing your virginity is important to becoming a “real” zoophile because you’re joining a very select group of people, and if you haven’t actually “done it,” people wonder if that’s your real sexuality. I’d wanted to have the sexual experience as well as the street credit among my peers — the zoophiles I’d met online — because they were my closest friends, really.

I’ve always made sure, except for the first few times when I was a neophyte, that my partner has an orgasm, whether it’s a human or a horse, because I want her to have a really good time, and oral is something she almost always enjoys. I saw a clinical psychologist following a recent trauma around two friends suddenly dying, and this perhaps reactivated the trauma of the death of my first love. That’s sort of how I see it, but I guess it’s silly to project human-relationship standards onto an animal.

Bestiality, the act of having sex with an animal, tends to conjure images of a mucky, socially inadequate, desperate farmer sneaking into the barn after dark, or depraved groups of thrill-seekers forcing sex with drugged, abused, or otherwise mistreated animals (like the case of Douglas Spink and the animal-sex-tourism farm in Washington State).

But the sexual identity that can be attached to bestiality, zoophilia, remains little understood.

And I didn’t realize it was abnormal at that time, but the comments attached to those pictures were all going on about how disgusting it was. So that would be when I was first aware that I was different. It was never a case of “I’m just giving this a try to see if I would prefer humans.”My first kiss was from a man named Mark.

I grew up in the city, so I didn’t have much access. He was aware of my sexual preference and interested himself in dogs after a fashion.

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