Let's suppose you're a straight man (just for argument's sake, since I'm assuming I have no straight male readers, though I know I have many straight female readers.)
Now, you haven't had sex (even the kind you bestow upon yourself) for a while. A close male friend is with you. He's good-looking, easy-going and fond of you, and you like him a lot too. You've had a few beers together. He also hasn't had sex for weeks. Assume also (for the sake of the argument) that there are no Christian-Fascists, no constant churchly drip of homophobic poison, and society really, really doesn't give a toss whether you're straight or gay. You and he pull each other's wires, have a bit of a cuddle and a kiss. It's fun; the release of oxytocin binds you a little closer together; as you lie next to him afterwards, you admire the line of his jaw, the swell of his pecs, the muscles of his thighs thickening into gold; you congratulate yourself on having him as a friend.
Right, so far, so good -- a story which is a staple of Nifty wish-fulfillment. But, does this encounter make you or him gay? Even if you repeat it? Or does it just make you friends with benefits, enjoying what the French delightfully call an amitié amoureuse? Both of you are essentially straight. Does the fact that you have, and enjoy, sex with with each other make you gay? Are you bisexual? What kind of bisexual?
OK, what about those famed circle jerks? I haven't experienced one myself, but then I missed out on all that adolescent male bonding stuff. Are the guys who strip off their kit and wank themselves in front of each other gay? Bi? Straight with a gay edge?
Let's invert the scenario. You're a 100% gay bloke, so you thought. You see what you assume is a beaut bloke (as I did on the train once). His hair is longish but cut boyishly. He's wearing a checked man's shirt with the sleeves rolled up, loose worn blue jeans, and rather cool hiking boots. You enjoy a fantasy with him and you and then suddenly realise he is in fact a she. Does (s)he suddenly become less desirable, now you know there's no cock between her legs? Why?
Or take Dil in The Crying Game, a transvestite with whom a straight man falls in love thinking he is a woman, who vomits when he discovers that Dil is not a woman, yet remains in love with him, and has sex with him. Or the bloke described by the Nick Archer in The End of Gay who goes to bars in drag, picks up straight men and when it's clear they're attracted, tells them he's a transvestite and invites them home with him. Most accept; some even bottom for him.
Or two straight best friends, who love each other and have sex together yet remain primarily attracted to women? Or the attraction so many men feel for other androgynous men? The "straight" blokes who have sex with men, and admit they enjoy it, and are happy to continue as long as you don't tell their friends.
I could go on. What all this suggests is that in the right circumstances with the right person, straights are capable of enjoying sex with (and loving) a man, and gays are as capable of enjoying sex with (and loving) a woman. It doesn't mean that the straights aren't straight, or the gays gay. It certainly doesn't mean that the Christian-Fascists are right and that there is no such thing as "gay". That would be like saying that just because you can have different shades of grey, black doesn't exist. But look at it another way. Perhaps it really means that almost everybody is potentially bisexual: in the right place, at the right time, with the right person. The popular perception of a bisexual is someone who is attracted to both genders equally. This is plainly wrong. There are many bisexualities, in all the flavours I've talked about above, and in others too.
When I was wrestling with my sexuality, I conducted a similar thought experiment. I said to myself, what if I found this really sexy man, and took him home and when we got down to naked skin discovered that he wasn't a man? Would I stop making love to him (her) or would I go right ahead? I concluded that if I were randy enough I would go ahead. I then asked myself what the difference would be if I found a really beautiful woman, and took her home, only to find a cock neatly concealed under her dress. What was I really? Gay or straight? Or bi? What? I realised then that it was silly to turn away from someone just because they weren't a man. And I stopped automatically assuming that women weren't sexy.
Don't get me wrong. I myself am mostly attracted to men, and mostly for emotional rather than sexual reasons. But I also love my wife and find her intensely erotic. Am I a closeted gay married man? A bisexual? A straight in denial? Is it just, as the ex-gay movement persists in maintaining, that I don't have enough straight, manly hugs from straight manly men? (I'm open to offers, all you straight, manly men out there.) Am I in fact looking, in a relationship with a man, for friendship? No, as it happens, you ex-gay fanatics out there: just because my primary connection to other men is emotional doesn't also mean I don't find some of them sexy and fuckable. There's something very erotic about a chin with stubble; the narrow hips of a man; even his smell. In the end what is it we're attracted to? How much of attraction is mystery and layers and inner and outer perceptions? Labels -- so misleading, so useful.
What is, I think, unarguable, something we can all agree on: we are programmed to love. Even our own gender. And it doesn't necessarily make us gay or bi or even confused. It just makes us human.
[There have been some insightful and illuminating comments, so have a look at them too]
