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Part One of Four Parts, exploring the relationships and relations between gay men and their heterosexual counterparts...

President Clinton didn't equate it with "having sex with that girl."

Teenaged ladies in great numbers have said when surveyed that they don't find it much more intimate than a goodnight kiss.

And straight men, more and more, can casually semi-joke about the possibility of leaning on a buddy's shoulder (or more precisely, slamming on a gay buddy's tonsils) for an inevitably drunken, but, nonetheless, highly anticipated "spontaneous" one.

Held literally by the lips or well-trained throat muscles, it is now also largely held harmless in the figurative sense. It is the blowjob. And, in the last case, at least we're seeing a major change in attitude, as we break what was once a definite, electrified, and barbed, chain-link barrier around territory that was strictly verboten.

Why - and for shit's sake HOW - can straight guys now wade, if not completely, then, at least, much more comfortably into the shallow waters of what most would consider just the fringe of the dark and plunge-able depths of gay sex?

Because, like the former Commander-in-Chief and the currently virgin-in-title good girls who first made the distinction clear to an eyebrow-raising society assert: A blowjob is not sex.

Sex is a face-to-face (or perhaps if you're not God-fearing, face-to-back), cock-in-the-hole, in-and-out jack hammering activity in which both parties can potentially reach orgasm, and protection of some sort is needed to ensure against the possibilities of pregnancy or disease transmission. With a blowjob, there is no "missionary vs. doggie" quandary -- just "spit vs. swallow"; and the worst fallout to be expected is an embarrassing chin trail when emerging from the bathroom, or a stain on your blue Dry Clean Only party dress.

So when a guy sucks another guy's cock, it's not "gay sex" -- it's a blowjob. It's an act which DOES involve two MEN, but it's still just a blowjob.

Through my years of experience in this realm, much discussion has ensued about all aspects of the act, most of it surprisingly inspired or instigated by some party other than myself. I love to talk, but when it comes to art, I'm an action man, and I consider oral sex an art form, plain and simple. So, in an effort to perfect the craft, I do a lot of listening. And a shitload of giggling.

Now, let me insert a caveat here: unlike the straight male acceptance (and let's face it: sexual stereotypes are devised by straight men) of girl-on-girl sex, the man-on-man blowjob IS at its root a very gay act. But in the ladies-only scenarios that play in the straight man's fantasies (and in the experimental woman's reality), being physically involved with another girl doesn't make a girl gay. It makes her sexually open-minded. Again, much like the blowjob, with no penis-in-vagina penetration, it's not SEX. It's friction, it's wetness, it's hot, it's loud, it's steamy, and it's worthy of videotaping - but it's not sex. To the straight man's way of thinking (and I'll speak for myself among my gay brothers here, as well), if a woman is hot and fools around with another woman, she's just really into sex. If she's unattractive or has really short hair and chunky shoes, she may be a real lesbian, but, either way, it doesn't involve men, so it doesn't THREATEN men, so it's easily dismissed as no big deal when two women get it on.

Sucking cock, though, involves invasion of the mouth, and while that's not the biblical penetration that seems now to define a sex act, it does require a physical investment, if you will, on one party's part; and whatever the guy getting the head thinks of the act or himself, that makes the guy who's giving the head indisputably homosexual. Let's face it, fellas: if you like the feel of a dick in your mouth and if you will accept (and, dare I say, even savor) a mouthful of your friend's spunk... chances are you're like me - 100% dyed-in-the-wool, card-carrying fag. And damned proud of it.

But oh, how the views of the man on the receiving end have changed in daring and confidence.

NEXT UP: THE BEAST WITHIN (OUR TIGHTY WHITEYS)

THIS WEEK'S VOYEUR PICKS::

Make a day and a night of it with your Straight Bros, my Sister Men. Whether you actually want to try to pry your way into their boxer briefs or you plan to keep it strictly pals, for a day and a night of showing your breeder buddies how the other, better-dressed half live, check out the following:

SHOP: Urban Outfitters (526 Avenue of the Americas, at 14th St., Greenwich Village) Such a paragon of urban hip as to border on being a parody of itself, you can find your skinny jeans and stretchy Henleys in size XS, as you convince your straights to spend a few too many dollars on metrosexual hats and blazers that will guarantee them all the pussy they can handle from girls who love a sensitive and stylish man.

EAT: Dish (201 Eighth Ave., bet. 20th/21st Sts., Chelsea) The perfect food-stop for a fag and his stags. An extensive menu with semi-regular (but consistently excellent) specials assures there's something for every possible man-taste. So while you eat your steamed veggies and grilled fish and silently battle whether to walk to the NYSC three blocks North or four blocks South after dessert, your boys can chow down on the ample bread basket to lay a Welcome mat for some of the best meatloaf and mashed potatoes to be had in the hood.

DRINK: Rawhide (212 Eighth Ave., bet. 20th/21st Sts., Chelsea) After the last of your straight coterie unleashes an appreciative post-binge belch, loosen the buttons on their waist bands and shuttle them right across the street to this landmark gay bar. Notoriously friendly and welcoming, Rawhide is, like its patrons, strictly old guard. Dim lighting means everyone is beautiful; drinks aren't pricey, the decor is pure neighborhood bar and nothing more. When there are Go-Go dancers at work, they're not of the cover model variety; they are like the bar's denizens tending more toward the ordinary and definitely very approachable and well-mannered - so your straight friends will not have to worry that your eye candy might rub his errant manhood on their unsuspecting thighs when they turn to stare at the TV. A pool table and video games make this a comfy hangout for casual Joes; and, as my straight friend, Ian, said "Cheap booze, a pool table, nice people - it's like my ideal neighborhood bar. Only there's a couple of guys tongue-fucking each other's face holes over in the corner."

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