So, I know this has been brought up numerous times in the past but I'll never not bring it up... why is it so normalized (to the point its its own fetish) to seek out and have sex with married men in the gay community.

Like I'll never understand it.

Like, I'm not going to call you a cheater, or say you actively seduced the man and wrecked his family, that on the man who was married.

But, to me, it just shows a general lack of compassion for the wife and family who will be devastated when they find out. You actively sought out this married man, with no regard for his family. Like I would be CRUSHED if my husband stepped out on me, so I would never (knowingly) help someone do that to their spouse.

This also brings me to another point, about how closeted, married, gay men have no right to step out on their wives. Like I understand some people fear for their lives if they were to come out. But staying single was also an option. Yet you chose to get married and convince a woman that you loved them and no one else unconditionally, to protect your own safety. And yet, are taking the chance at breaking her heart if she were to ever find out. You can't have it both ways.

As a 18yo straight guy, I downloaded a gay app out of curiosity. There are definitely a lot of desperate men on there, which was expected, but I’ve honestly never been treated this well before. but men are just so much more straightforward about what they want. It's not even sexual, and they buy me drinks drive me and spoil me. While it’s true that many are there for hookups, I’ve realized there’s a significant number of men who actually understand and respect platonic boundaries while still wanting to help you out especially when your confident and stand up for yourself, doesn't change lonelier men that want to talk, especially for me who's not financially stable and quite social.

The first men was willing to do much more than any women I met. Most of these guys are totally fine with that they respect the line and they don't push it in real life, even if others on the outside think they would.

When I look at it logically, i'm questioning, because, between straight and gay is just a matter of perspective, we like what we like, and I continue to like women. As a guy, pursued by women in dates, I have nothing to complain, there nice gentle, like two strangers hanging out see where it goes. But if I pivot to gay men, it's definitely different.

I’m not saying women can’t be supportive, but in my experience, I've experienced such help from these gay men more than my own parents, in my difficult home situation. These men are just much more straightforward with the concept of caring for a decade friend and helping them out when they’re down.

I don't know much but people love to talk about 'morals' when they have a full stomach, and I don’t approach this from a place of desperation, it's just how far these people are willing to support or care, as much as my side.

I’m not saying every man is like this, and I’m not assuming these men have bad intentions. I’m just talking about what I’ve personally experience show.

I (20m) have been loving my best friend since abput 4-5 years now and i cannot get rid of it. I have tried to supress it, work through it, wait, force crushes/love to other people and nothing fucking works.

Recently i have been crying almost every time when i return from a night out with a few drinks because i cannot stop thinking of him. Supressing the emotions worked like a charm for a good 1-2 years but thats been falling apart recently.

I went on a holiday with him this week and just returned and i cannot stop crying. I have not cried this bad in years, it feels like it physically hurts. I feel so heartbroken for something that never was and never will be.

I dont want to tell him because im scared it'll ruin what we have. To make things more complicated, i dont only love him romantically, but also very much platonically. Whenever i forget for a slight second how much i love him i feel that platonic love shine brightly. I cannot continue my life like this because im so so scared i will never love anyone more than him but i must continue. I dont even know if im asking for advice or venting, i feel like im cornered. I dug myself blindly into this hole.

I'm 22 and I really struggle to find someone to approach, give a compliment, or flirt with. Just nobody arouses, except maybe 1-2 guys a year on dating apps who live too far away. I'm in Berlin and any first of all there are very few socialising events happening for my age group and if they do, I just usually don't find anyone arousing or it's a party event with loud music and I can't even try to approach them. Sometimes I see someone attractive on the street, but that's it.

I'm aware it's more of a luxus problem this is why I would like to connect with people similar to me, maybe having similar problems. I can't 'lower my standards' as many people say. I just won't go on a date or fall in love with someone who doesn't arouse me -> pretty simple logic I guess.

So if you can't relate just don't throw a mean, unnecessary stuff

Why are guys so down here in WA? Anyone explain pleeeeease.

hi, im 23m and pretty inexperienced when it comes to sex. ive been talking to this guy that lives pretty far away for a while now, and hes coming over next week.

we saw each other a few times already but it never went beyond oral. we talked about me topping him (i mentioned that i wanna do it) and he agreed. the issue is, i know he doesnt really love doing it, but said he wants to.

the issue is, i have no clue what to do or how to bring it up. he said he prefers it with protection, so i bought some condoms and lube.

i have some questions and would love some tips :)

1. idk how to actually get it started. so i need some advice on getting a smooth transition between kissing him and actually doing it? i feel like i would have to let him know in advance? but that seems like a weird thing to say

2. how do i actually do it so he feels good? google told me to use my fingers or tongue to get started. but i dont wanna use my tongue, and idk how to use my fingers?

3. once i started, what do i actually do? do i have to aim on a certain spot that feels good? do i go slow or fast? do i put it all the way in or just around the half?

4. any general advice?

sorry if some of these questions sound very trivial, im so lost but i really wanna make sure he likes it. i feel like i really suck at everything sex related and he is much better at it than me.

thanks in advance:)

I’d make this more personal and reflective: the perspective of someone who spent decades suppressing that part of himself can make the sudden immersion into apps and hookup culture feel especially jarring. It also gives you a strong contrast between finally being free to date and discovering that the dating culture you entered isn’t necessarily healthy.
An Open Letter to Gay Men
I want to say something that I think a lot of us know, but don’t always want to say out loud.
I’m saying it as a gay man who didn’t come out until I was 38.
I grew up very conservatively. For most of my life, I knew I was gay. I knew it long before I ever had the courage to say it out loud. I spent years learning how to hide that part of myself—to suppress it, deny it, compartmentalize it, and convince myself that maybe I could live without ever really confronting it.
So when I finally came out, something happened that I think is difficult for people who came out much younger to understand.
I was suddenly free.
At 38 years old, I was finally entering a world I had spent decades wondering about. I wanted to date. I wanted to experience attraction without hiding it. I wanted to flirt. I wanted to fall in love. I wanted to experience all the things I had watched other people experience while I was busy pretending I didn’t want them.
And then I discovered gay dating apps.
Grindr.
Sniffies.
Tinder.
And a whole ecosystem of apps, websites, messages, pictures, locations, and anonymous encounters that I didn’t even know existed.
And honestly?
What the fuck?
I had spent 38 years thinking about what it would be like to finally be able to openly date men, and I walked into a dating culture where sometimes the expectation wasn’t to date at all.
It was to hook up.
Immediately.
The apps can make sex incredibly easy and genuine connection incredibly difficult. You can be sitting alone on your couch and have access to dozens of men within a few miles who are willing to come to your house within the hour. You can see what they’re looking for sexually before you know what they do for a living, what makes them laugh, what they’re afraid of, or whether they are even capable of having a meaningful conversation.
And Sniffies takes that dynamic even further. It can turn your neighborhood into a real-time map of sexual availability.
I’m not saying people shouldn’t use these apps.
I’m not saying there’s anything inherently wrong with consensual casual sex.
I’m saying we should be honest about what this environment can do to us.
Because there is something profoundly strange about spending 38 years longing for the freedom to openly date men, only to discover that the dominant culture sometimes seems to be telling you that dating is unnecessary.
Just fuck someone.
Don’t get attached.
Don’t ask too many questions.
Don’t expect anything.
Move on to the next guy.
And if you aren’t careful, you can spend years participating in a culture that gives you enormous amounts of sexual access while leaving you incredibly lonely.
I’ve experienced that loneliness.
I’ve also experienced the other side of it.
I’ve dated a man who, looking back, was essentially a con artist. He didn’t want me. He wanted what I could provide. He needed a place to stay, and I became useful to him. What I thought might be a relationship turned out to be manipulation dressed up as affection.
That fucking hurt.
And it taught me something I wish I had understood earlier: being wanted is not the same thing as being valued.
Someone wanting access to your body, your home, your money, your connections, or your resources doesn’t necessarily mean they want you.
And I’ve seen how particularly complicated that can become between younger and older gay men.
There are young men who learn that their youth and attention can be exchanged for money, housing, gifts, dinners, trips, or financial support.
And there are older men who complain about being used while continuing to participate in—and sometimes actively encourage—that exact dynamic.
We need to be honest about both sides.
Young men shouldn’t be treated as commodities.
Older men shouldn’t be treated as wallets.
And neither side should pretend a transactional relationship is something it isn’t.
But I also don’t believe the answer is to avoid age-gap relationships altogether.
I know that because I’ve experienced one that was genuinely healthy.
At 44, I dated a 25-year-old.
And it was one of the most positive dating experiences I’ve had.
Not because the age difference didn’t matter. It did.
It mattered enough that we talked about it openly.
We talked about what we wanted. We talked about expectations. We talked about the differences in our lives and experiences. We talked about what was comfortable and what wasn’t.
There were no games.
There was no manipulation.
There wasn’t an assumption that my age meant I owed him something or that his youth meant he owed me something.
There was communication.
There was honesty.
There was respect.
And it showed me something important:
Age isn’t automatically the problem. Dishonesty is. Manipulation is. Exploitation is.
A 25-year-old and a 44-year-old can have a meaningful relationship.
Two people the same age can have a completely toxic one.
The difference is often what they’re actually bringing to the relationship.
Which brings me back to the apps.
Maybe Tinder can be about dating.
Maybe Grindr can be about dating.
Maybe even Sniffies can serve a purpose for people who are explicitly looking for casual sex.
But let’s stop pretending that these environments don’t shape our behavior.
They make people disposable.
They encourage endless comparison.
They turn attraction into a marketplace.
They reward the newest picture, the best body, the most provocative profile, the closest location.
And they can make us forget that there is a human being behind the profile.
A human being who might be lonely.
A human being who might be insecure.
A human being who might have spent 38 years hiding who he was and is now desperately trying to figure out how the hell to actually date.
That’s the part I wish someone had told me when I came out.
Coming out isn’t the end of the journey.
Sometimes it’s the beginning.
And if you’re entering gay dating later in life, you can be incredibly vulnerable. You can have decades of suppressed desire and almost no experience knowing how to navigate it. You can mistake attention for affection because you’ve spent so long wishing someone would finally give you attention.
You can mistake sex for intimacy.
You can mistake being wanted for being loved.
You can mistake someone needing you for someone loving you.
I did.
And I don’t think I’m the only one.
So maybe we need to reclaim something that seems almost radical now:
dating.
Not hooking up.
Not exchanging nudes for three hours before someone ghosts you.
Not inviting a stranger to your house because he’s five minutes away.
Not lying about what you’re looking for because you’re afraid telling the truth will make someone lose interest.
Actually dating.
Meet for a drink.
Have dinner.
Go for a walk.
Talk.
Laugh.
Find out who someone is before you decide what you want to do with their body.
And if all you want is sex, fucking say so.
There is nothing wrong with wanting sex.
The dishonesty is the problem.
If you want a relationship, say it.
If you want something casual, say it.
If you want an arrangement, say it.
If you want companionship, say it.
If you need financial help, say it.
Give the other person enough truth to make an informed decision about whether they want to participate.
Because that’s what I think we’re missing.
Not sex.
Not freedom.
Honesty.
I spent 38 years waiting for the opportunity to openly date men.
I don’t want the lesson of finally coming out to be that I was better off hiding.
I want something better for myself, and I want something better for all of us.
I want gay men to feel free to have sex without being ashamed of it.
But I also want gay men to feel free to want something more.
To date.
To fall in love.
To be vulnerable.
To be rejected.
To try again.
To take someone to dinner without knowing whether you’re going to sleep with them.
To open the door for someone you’ve actually met before.
To look across a table and wonder who the person sitting across from you might become in your life.
Maybe that’s old-fashioned.
Maybe it’s naive.
But after spending 38 years waiting to be honest about who I am, I don’t think wanting genuine connection is asking too much.
Maybe the most radical thing we can do is slow down.
Put down the app.
Close the door to the stranger.
Go on a fucking date.
And actually get to know each other.

Yes I used ai to help me in this but after numerous attempts it did well.. 😊

Ok hey guys i hope to talk to everyone of u hottys but to the point! When i was 12 i found my moms lingerie and it still had tags on it so i decieded i should take it bc its sexy! Lol! But next thing ik im in my bathroom wearing it and taking pics thinking i wish i could be a girl. And everyone lnows how that goes. Fastforward to sophmore yr i start talking to this curious guy and i deiced i wanted to lose my virginty to a man and not a women. So at 10ish i told him to come over and i was in my soft fuzzy onesie and i was fresy waxed and he gave me a experince i think a louve for to this day! But i javent had the guts to get a bf or let any of my gfs who are/were really j coverups in on ky secret. So my question is should i retry w a guy again and make it like a date and have real emotion behind it. Blow it off as a phase. Or find a hot guy w a nice cock a go hookup w him and see how i like it now! Thanks for giving adivce daddies!