this is NOT a test

I thought that if I for ONCE was faithful to a man...he would appreciate it

If I did not tell one lie...he would only tell me the truth

I handled this one WAYYYY differently than the rest. We had a special connection, belonged to the same "secret society" & from him, I hid NOTHING.

I was seriously even considering letting him top me (5 inches, no tea). HELL, I even swallowed.

He told me that I gave the best head he ever had. That he "loved me" & that I "could COMPLETE him."

I believed it...

*sighs*

for 2 WHOLE weeks (i know right) we were a match set.

& not only, was he jobLESS, carLESS, & apartment/houseLESS but, I was puttin my honda on the road AT LEAST 3 nights out the week; drivin from my crib in Ft. Worth to his daddy & dem house in South Arlington; bringing him BACK to my place to lay up & THEN takin him back home every mornin.

My weakness is a nice ass...& his booty sat up on his BACK

I was in love

& then, he just STOPPED:

calling
returning calls
texting
returning texts
giving me ANY life

but, he still found time to login to his online profile EVERY day & even sent me a couple generic ass, la la ass messages: "hey, how's it going?"

the TRUTH:

i've been dating for one decade

4/5 men I've ever loved in my life...threw me away

Every man whose ever shown ME love...I walked out on

Now, take out a pencil, paper & divide the # of old, single gay men you know by the # in loving, committed relationships & what do you get? (check all that apply)

a. to one day find HIM & live happily ever after
b. to die still young & beautiful from HIV-related complications
c. to grow old...ALONE

Now, how many of you answered "a" ONLY?

DiLLusions

That night I finally called. "Tim" had given me his phone number some time before on A4A but, I was just getting around to hittin him up. At first, he seemed like ALL the rest (DallAssholes) but, THREE hours later (yep, boo had some good conversation on him) still on that same phone call I was CONVINCED he was something special. We were into a LOT of the same things (Poetic Justice is his favorite movie & TLC is his favorite girl group) & he seemed so not typical & highly unusual. He kept hinting at me coming over to his place & after 3 hours of deep, entertaining dialogue, I happily accepted the invite.

I hadn't done anything to work up a sweat but, I still jumped in the shower & 15 minutes later I was on I-30 headed WEST. 40 minutes later I was convinced that my MapQuest mobile had failed me so I was forced to call for direction, which I really HATE doing (hey I'm a man, ain't I?). After laughing like a hyena in heat when I told him my location, I finally reached a point on the freeway to get off & turn around. 5 minutes later I arrived to a nice looking house in an even nicer looking neighborhood. I directed him to not have on any clothing when he greeted me at the door & to my surprise, he obliged. Tim opened the door wearing nothing but a du-rag & a smile & I was...speechless: about 5'9, maybe 165. Nicely built with pretty feet & a face that didn't look a day over 25 (he was 34). I walked in & he closed the door behind me & followed, closely.

"This house is HUGE," I thought to myself as I passed through the living room & into the dining room. & he lives alone, aside from his teenage son who he gets on weekends. We stepped into the light shining brightly from the kitchen. He was checkin me out from head to toe but, I was checkin out this beautiful home (a guy this fine KNOWS he's fine so, I opted not to look at him too long or too hard). I handed him one of the two bottles of beer I brought in, he took a swig & asked me to undress as I sipped mine. I got down to my boxers & then began to act shy but, he had no problem helping me out of them. He then dropped down to his knees & went to work on my cock.

I leaned slightly against the edge of the dinette table, tilted my head back & took a deep breath as I thought to myself, "I wanna marry him." After about 5 minutes he stopped, abruptly, & walked around the corner into his bedroom. I followed moments later to find him laying on his stomach. I reached around his waist, tooted his ass up & ate that bitch like he was food. He was begging me to "stop...DON'T STOP...stop...DON'T STOP!" I rolled him over onto his back, legs up & my face still buried in dat muff. Still moaning, he grabbed my head & snatched away. Smiling, he pushed me back onto the bed & straddled me as he reached into the nightstand & came out with lube & a rubber. I lay there watching him do all the prep & thought, "God, this man is BEAUTIFUL..."

It took him a minute to take even half of me in that position. Seeing the discomfort in his face I wrapped my arms tightly around his waist & rolled us over onto his back (I hate pulling out while I'm fuckin). His grip around my dick immediately relaxed & his eyes widened...he was enjoying it now. I kissed his lips as I stroked in & out of his body & I began to lose myself inside of him. I did not want to "beat" it...I wanted to make love to it. As I kissed & grinded he heavily breathed & moaned & without warning he spit me out (of his ass) & came all over his stomach. He then apologized for not giving me time to bust mine but, I wasn't even angry. I felt almost satisfied, having given him the pleasure he needed that night. We didn't lay there for much longer before heading to the bathroom together to clean up & I continued to sneak peeks at his beautiful body. I was in awe of his physical exhibit...I wanted him.


After I dressed he walked me to the door, still butt naked. We talked as he explained all the photos on the wall, the one of his son was his spitting image. We smiled, embraced, kissed, & I left...if only it ended there...


I thought about Tim the whole ride home. His face, his body, his smell, his taste...he was intoxicating (or maybe it was the 6-pack I drank earlier that night). By the time I made it home it was about 5 a.m. & I had made it up in my mind to pursue. I mean, why not? The typical jump-off does not, CAN NOT, carry an in-depth & meaningful conversation for as long as we had been on the phone so, he had already impressed me. I got online & sent him red (for passion) roses. He had to know I was seriously interested. I had to make him know. & then, he'd be swept off his feet & fall head over heels for me. I scheduled them to arrive the next day & after confirmation of delivery I waited patiently by the phone...he never called that night.


I lay in bed thinking about my actions. Maybe he was offended I only sent 6 instead of a dozen. Maybe he was allergic. Maybe he not into that faggoty bullshit & don't like flowers. Maybe he's just not that into you...I fell asleep sad.


He called the next day to thank me. He wasn't home when they were delivered so they were left with his neighbor & he didn't get them until that morning. I felt joy & hopefulness. I told him how much I enjoyed our conversation. How much I enjoyed being with him that night & how I'd like to get to know him even more. He then basically told me that I wasn't exactly his "type" but, he'd be open to being just friends.

We still text & call one another ever so often just to say "hello" but, the truth is he rejected me so, we'll probably never truly be friends.

To this day sometimes I wonder to myself, "Is love really just an illusion?"

concrete clear

Why is your "position" field BLANK? I mean I been doing this for a while so, when it's left blank on the profile I already KNOW that you's a bottom...& the same goes for you girls who say "I DO NOT KNOW YET." You are a bottom who doesn't want to be looked at as emasculate & that's cool. It's ok because the last thing Q wants to do is judge you for your insecurities baby. But cool believe, as long as you can CLEARLY see "Top" on my profile then there's really no room for miscommunications when I strap on the rubber...right? That being said, let's go back in time for a moment to the night I met "Reggie" (remember when I said I was "a little bit tied up" when Oscar AKA "Dirty Booty" first tried to get at me?).

Now, from the moment I laid eyes on Reggie's profile on BGC I knew I would like him. 5'10, kinda chubby, with a kool-aid smile; he was my kinda guy! His "position" field was blank (as was his weight), which wasn't an issue. & even though his status which was a diss to his ex & the new guy, woulda probably sent anybody with SOME sense in the opposite direction, it intrigued me (this is a hint as to how much sense Q has). So I of course sent him a message & after some brief small talk we exchanged numbers & I was headed to his crib.

He stayed close, like 5 minutes away (I didn't even have to get on the freeway). I arrived to a very familiar apartment complex (Bruce used to live here) & I quickly found his place with no help. When he opened the door I was...pleased. He actually looked LIKE his pics & the apartment was LAID: I'm talking FULLY furnished (with nice shit), which is a rarity for the punks our age (he's 24). So I was impressed, to say the least.

We sat on the sofa & talked, REALLY TALKED, for hours. He was funny, country, & came off very genuine. After a few beers & squares we were both relaxed enough to venture off into more PERSONAL conversation. "So you top or bottom?" he asked. "Oh, you ain read my profile?" I snapped. "Nah man, dat don't be important when you first tryna get to know somebody." COOKED ME, I couldn't even argue with that...not without sounding like a sex-crazed freak. The truth (& by that I mean MY truth) is that I don't go online looking for friends or homeboys. I'm all stocked up with people to drink, smoke, & big kick it with. I'm online looking for a date; a fuck-buddy; or even just a jump-off. But to Reggie's last statement I simply replied, "yea you right, you need to get to know a person before worryin abou if ya'll gon be just friends or something more." MM-HMM! He replied, "exactly." So without the slightest bit of hesitation I boldly declared, "I'm a top." He reached out his hand to shake mine & greeted me, "hello FRIEND." WTF? & ya'll know I was bout ready to go on that note. But little did I know, the night was only beginning.

We talked more, laughing & feeling a lot more at ease since that chunk of ice had been broken. We had almost demolished his case of beer & out of nowhere he asked, "lemme see it." I asked, surprised, "let you see wha?" He smiled, "your piece." I was a little tipsy & feelin real good so I stood up & pulled it out. He grabbed it & began to blow me. The boy had a nice little head game on him & I wondered to myself where this was going...he then stopped abruptly, stood up, took my shirt off, pulled down my panties & bent me over. I thought to myself, "WTF?" He proceeded to eat me. Now, me being the STRICT top that I am, I've never really gotten into ANYTHING (tongues, fingers, penises, bottles, gerbils, vacum cleaner hoses, etc) being inserted into my shit-hole. But baby, that boy was COLD-BLOODED, & I was moanin like a lil BITCH. I dropped to my knees as they had begun to get weak & he followed me with his face still inbetween my cakes. He rolled me onto my back (dat muthafucka was kinda STRONG) & continued, alternating between eating me & sucking my dick...I was in complete ecstasy. He finally started to take off some of his clothing & then he lay in between my thighs & began to kiss me. I then realized that he was attempting to stick a finger in my butt & that's when I let out a small scream. He laughed, resumed kissing me & trying to finger me. & it was then that I noticed this big muthafucka had both my wrists over my head with one hand & had my body pinned underneath the weight of his...I began to get REALLY nervous.

He withdrew the finger, as he had only been able to get in almost to the knuckle. I sighed relief as he continued kissing me. Now as he had my wrists by both of his hands, still laying in between my thighs, he began to press against my hole with his piece. My eyes got big & I started breathing erratically. I began to wriggle & squirm until I got loose of his tight grip. I rolled over onto my knees & tried to crawl away but then he grabbed me by my waist & buried his face into my ass again. This nigga was CLEARLY no rookie. He then snatched me up (I'm tellin ya'll, this big nigga was STRONG) & walked me into the bedroom. He pushed me onto his bed & started giving me head, still fingering me. Between his hot mouth & his finger in my rectum I couldn't take no more...I came everywhere, some even went in his mouth. I lay there in the middle of his big bed basking. I finally pulled myself up & into the bathroom to clean up.

"WHOOOO!" I thought to myself as I looked into the mirror trying to catch the cum running dowm my piece & stomach with the warm towel. I felt my energy & strength begin to return to my just lifeless body. That boy was good, & a true top to even attempt climbing my back. When I re-entered his bedroom he was laying on his back on his cell phone. As I pulled on my t-shirt I realized that he hadn't even bust one. He hung up the phone as he stood up & I grabbed him by the shoulder & kissed him. I dropped down to my knees, opened my mouth wide & inhaled. I was tasting more pubic hair than I was flesh & I thought to myself, "shiiit I probably coulda took dis lil thang," (the piece had to be like only 4 or 5 inches). I pulled my t-shirt just over my head, grabbed his hips & let him fuck my face. I swear, I didn't even gag, his dick was so petite. His breathing got louder, his thrusts sped up & he whispered, "i'm finsta cum." We both threw our heads back, I grabbed his piece & jerked until he shot all over my chest. "Damn, I gotta go clean up again," I thought. As we went into the bathroom together I finally got a good look at his body in the light & thought, "he needs to update his damn profile."

As I drove home I could only reflect on Reggie's profile...it was about as clear as concrete, & I'm not only speaking of his role in the bedroom. Though his pics were true, even his height stated 5'10 & he was shorter than me (I'm barely 5'8). & I won't blame him for this I mean, maybe he REALLY doesn't know his height. But if he's just scared that saying he's 5'6 will turn off potential suitors then, he should know there's NO BIGGER turn-off when it comes to online dating than being MIS-LED. Because honey, those white lies, fibs, & half truths only become all out deceit & perjury (ask Lil' Kim bout it). & though you may "fake your way to the TOP, round & round [1]" dem other bitches...PLEEZBALEEV, it's gon take a BAD ASS (not even Boosie) to TOP this one.

REFERENCES

1. "Fake Your Way To The Top" (Eddie Murphy as Jimmy Early) - Dreamgirls Soundtrack; 2006

damn...

Since I made the move to Texas, almost two years ago, I've had my share of the different types of men Dallas had to offer. Very few remain constant in my life...very few remain. But there has been ONE in particular who stood out from the pack. You may remember mention of his name from this post. But let me just start from the beginning...

I had been working at that call center for only a short while but I was LOVIN IT! Having left the minimum wage of north Louisiana ($5.80/hour) the previous year, to now actually be able to pay all my own bills without help from my grandma & still without having a degree? Honey I was good...but I still felt empty. The apartment was fully furnished. I wasn't in any debt (besides student loans). "I could go where I wanted, do what I wanna do[1]." & I was surrounded by good friends. BUT me being human, I still wasn't satisfied. I laid alone every night & had began to long for a companion. Though I still had ties with my ex (we were still fucking), I wanted something more; something new.

It began as a typical Thursday & I was headed to work. Now the floor I worked on had been buzzin because of a new training class that week but I ain't friendly, so I had no intention of meeting or greeting with anybody...& then I saw him: 5'10, about 185 lbs, low-cut, toffee brown, & VERY well dressed...o yea, I had to get him. & after one long look into his eyes, I knew enough to know but, there was something off about him...

We continued our friendly glances over the course of a couple weeks & even the occasional head nods & "what's up man." He served on the daily for work, butch queen DOWN: blazers, jeans tucked inside of timbs laced all the way up, earrings with stone sets to match the fit, even drove a cunt car. I wanted him...but something was preventing me from approaching. It was weird, I ALWAYS approach when I see something I like but something just wasn't sitting well with me about him & I just couldn't put my finger on it.

One afternoon, as I'm headed to work again, I pass him outside on his phone readin somebody for FILTH about his car. He had made me nervous so I just kept walking looking straight ahead because I didn't need her poppin fly with me for being all up in her mug. At that point I decided that for whatever reason my gut was telling me not to pursue her, for the first time I was gonna listen. It was time for me to forget about miss cunt butch.

My 15 minute break finally came & I was hungry DOWN. I headed to the breakroom to raid the vending machine & as I sat down to tear into my kettle-cooked jalapeno potato chips, a body walked up from behind & sat right across the table from me...it was him staring dead up in my muthafuckin face...all I could do was smile. He returned it, beautiful teeth. "What's yo name?" he asked, still staring me dead in my eye. "Q," I smiled, "what's yours?" He didn't even blink, still gazing at me & then finally responded, "Bruce." We chatted for a few minutes & then he said, "gimme ya number;" not asking, but telling me to. I paused & thought "this is not right...I thought I wasn't gon go after him...& I should be the one asking him for his number..." He never did break his stare into my face & hell, even though I did say I wasn't gonna pursue him, it was him pursuing me...I gave him my number before returning to my desk to finish my shift.

He actually called the next day, surprisingly. We talked...and talked...and talked for what seemed like hours. He was from dallas, just moved outta his mama house, & a HEAVY weed smoker (a pot head.) But the most surprising detail was his age...19. I swear this dude looked every bit of 25, & spoke & acted it too. If I had that much sense at 19 maybe I woulda turned out to be "somebody." But honey anything that glitters, might just turn out to be aluminum foil. & I had 3 more years of wisdom on him so I had to hit him with that question, the one that had gotten me good so many times before: "You don't have a boyfriend?" I asked, intrigued that a kid this fly could ACTUALLY be single. He hesitantly answered, "uhhhh, ye-a." Mmmph. But truthfully, it was not a gut-punch. He didn't lie about the fact that they lived together; the fact that they were "in love in this sumbitch[2];" or the fact that he was having second thoughts about them sharing an apartment. But like most, he was not just gonna come out & tell me first & risk missing out; I would either have to just find out bout the shit or simply ASK. & honey doing what I do for this long, I interrogate like Law & Order.

So ya'll already know...I went over to they townhouse when he invited me (shit, ya'll know me; i'm trying to "see how the booty work...[3]"). & he looked really different in just a wife beater & basketball shorts. Not UNattractive, just a little, less (he used to be big but lost a lot of weight & now has no definition in his upper body) but I wasn't trippin. As we sat on the couch he began to roll a blunt (he smokes at least 2 before work each day) & wasted no time going IN about his lover & how sick he was of the living situation. THE RUNDOWN: He loved him, he just hated living with him. I comforted him. He kissed me & despite the weed smoke...he tasted sweet. I wrapped my arms around his waist. He wrapped HIS arms around MY waist. We continued kissing for about 5 minutes straight, slobbin DOWN but, he had yet to reach for my penis... & then BAM! that shit hit me like a nigga's daddy: What was off about him; what hadn't been sitting well with me but I couldn't put my finger on...until right then. I snatched away from him, looked him dead in the eye & asked, "are you a TOP?" He looked confused, then responded, "uhhhh, ye-a. What are you?" I just looked at him, disappointingly; nuff said. I knew my gut was telling me to leave this muthafucka alone for a reason. I was TOO through.

We both sat back on the couch, silent. He finally spoke, "I'm finsta start gettin ready for work." I thought to myself, "shi-it, you ain gotta tell me but once." I grabbed my keys & he stopped me, "no, don't leave yet," he smiled, leaned in & kissed me. I just looked like, nigga what? But I didn't argue, I just sat back down. It didn't take him long to throw on his clothes & jewelry. He looked so damn sexy when he re-emerged downstairs, I swear. He pulled me up off the couch, wrapping both arms around my waist. As he gazed into my eyes I could only think to myself, "what the fuck is this? Is dis nigga serious? I hope he don't think he gon sweet talk me into givin up the pussy? Shi-it, that ship sailed YEARS ago..." He kissed me, so gently but I swear I felt HEAT. This lil' 19 year old nigga had more game than the 30 & 40 year olds I be fuckin wit. He gon be somethin SERIOUS by the time he old enough to drink. He smiled & whispered, "let's go."

We walked to the parking lot, & before he hopped into his car to head to work, he leaned over & kissed me one more time. I'm standing there shocked & amazed, asking, "your neighbors ain't messy? They not gon say nothin to your boyfriend?" He smiled, climbed inside his car & replied "I don't care." As he crunk up, backed out, & drove off I could only think to myself, "damn..."

REFERENCES

1. "Should I Go?" (Brandy) - Afrodisiac; 2004

2. Martin Lawrence - You So Crazy; 1994

3. Lucky (Tupac Shakur) - Poetic Justice; 1993

you know what? i'm tired of this

Ok this is the LAST straw, that broke the camel's back against the wind, & honey, enough is ENOUGH! So let me take you back to that night...

Now me and "Oscar" had been playing email tag on A4A for a while but the night we were SUPPOSED to hook up I ended up...a little bit tied up (I'ma tell ya'll about that another day). So, we rescheduled for the following night & I'm GEEKED UP because his body pics are 1-2-3 so you already know. We've established that he's 40 years old, works nights like me & single. But nervous about meeting me, as well as being allergic to cats, but it's no tea because I have no problem kicking Avery out of my room when I have a gentleman caller. So that night, I picked up a bottle of wine (2 bottles actually), straightened up my place a bit, & took a shower. As I rubbed on my body lotion & cologne I pondered:

"Will Oscar be the one?"
"Maybe he can be my regular?"
"Gosh, I'm so tired of hoein & jippin."
"I hope he likes me."
"I been doing these damn Kegals like A.B. Irby said to, I hope they work."
"I hope this cologne ain't too strong."

I poured me another glass of red wine to calm my damn nerves. I always get real anxious the first time I hook up with someone new. I lit me a square & stretched out butt naked across my sofa.

"He's late," I think to myself at 11:53pm. By 12:05 I decide to call. "You lost?" I asked. "Naw man, I'm pullin into the apartments right now," he answered. It then takes him another 10 minutes just to find my damn door (i swear, no one can ever find my apartment). I leave the door unlocked for him. He walks thru & I check him out from head to toe...I'm...pleased, I guess.
I mean, Oscar definitely LOOKS his age but he's a pretty color: "you know I gotta soft spot for chocolate[1]." & he has a decent mug so, I'm NOT disappointed. But he seemed real paranoid like, irritatingly:

"turn on some of these lights."
"no, you walk into the room first."
"you ready huh?" as he pointed to my fishbowl full of assorted condoms & lubes
"I know somebody musta told you about me, that's how you knew I was allergic to animals."

I swear, I almost told him to get the fuck outta my house. But hell, I'd waited this long for him to come over so, I decided to try and help him relax.

I sat him on the bed, between my thighs & began to rub his neck & shoulders. He smiled, & even allowed himself to enjoy it. I began to lift his shirt up, he stopped me before I could get it over his head & whispered, "no, no, no." I swear, I was about to put this nigga the fuck outta my house. He stood up, then pulled me up with him. He turned his back to me while pulling me to his ass. "About damn time," I thought to myself. "You cum quick?" he asked. "Depend on how good it is," I answered as I pulled down his shorts & oooh, no draws on? YES! He was ready (or so I thought). I grabbed a rubber & a lube packet outta my bowl & begin to roll the rubber down my shaft with one hand, while lubing him up with the other (ya boy can multi-task). He jumped as I put the head in, so I eased the shaft in. He could take it standing up, my second favorite position to being rode, so he was earning back some of the points he lost with his paranoia. He whispered, "jack my dick baby, so this ass can open up." I happily obeyed hey, it's all about teamwork. After a while, he spit me out (of his ass) & got on all fours on the bed, face down ass up. "I need somebody to fuck this ass on the regular man," he said. "We'll see," I replied. O yea, this shit was bout to be all mines. I started wearin that ass OUT! He was beggin for more lube, so I passed him the big tube off the nightstand while he turned onto his back. & as I went back into that sloppy, wet, warm ass that's when it hit me...that oh so familiar stench. I was OVER it.

Thank God he came right after that because my dick was about to go limp. I could not believe it. I didn't even WANT to cum. I immediately pulled out to head for the bathroom & when I flipped on the light to glance down at my dick, that ultra-thin fuschia condom was covered in mud. WTF? I have not been painted in FOREVER. I didn't even know the girls still painted. Was he serious? Did he even wash his ass? Why would you even CALL ME, asking for the dick if you wasn't prepared for the dick? He don't love his self. Maybe if this was a little boy, but this was a grown ass, middle-aged man. Me personally, I been doing this shit for YEARS. So I can always handle a light airbrushing, I mean hell, I am diggin up inside a man's rectum (it kinda comes with the territory). But for a full coat of paint to be on me, & trust it WAS on me, my pubic hair & my damn stomach. I was disgusted. I was speechless. HE HAD TO LEAVE!

When I made it out of the bathroom Oscar was dressed & standing at the door. "Alright man," he said. "Yea," I responded, dryly. I locked both locks, & went to change my damn sheets before I took a second shower & I swear, that hot water never felt so good. But to all you "bottoms," get ya swagger up baby. It's 2008, going on 2009. No more excuses, no more tears, no more drama, no more shit: dookie crumbs in my sheets, dookie crumbs on my dick... "dookie crumbs in the hall, dookie crumbs on the wall; it was enough shit in that house to make a DOOKIE POT-PIE[2]!" & I swear, the next one of you muthafuckas shit on me, I'm goin in yo muthafuckin mouth...believe dat.

REFERENCES

1. Adina (Paula Jai Parker) - Sprung; 1997
2. Cedrick (Brian Hooks) - Q: The Movie; 1998

the online revolution...sorry i missed it

For those who haven't figured it out yet, I'm single. A single gay male, in the city, in the south. For the most part, it's a pretty carefree life I live but sometimes...I get lonely. & out of pure, pathetic despair one night, I found myself back grindin online. & I swear, it's about as cut-throat, vicious & potentially fatal as it is out there for them boys hustlin on the block. It's real out here in these cyber streets. But against my better judgement (my other head) I logged in to that familiar place & surprisingly after 70+ days in my absence, absolutely NOTHING had changed. Same ol’ people, same ol’ pics & profile requirements ("no fats, no femz, masculine dudes only, no pic=no reply; no shirt, no shoes, no service etc.") lookin for the same ol’ thing. Even funnier the same ol’ dudes hittin me up, forgetting that we’ve already talked/fucked before. Which brings me to this particular night…

I get a message from “milleniumodel.” I never forget ANYONE who gives me their number, especially if I’ve actually called & had a conversation with them before. Unfortunately not everyone’s memory is nearly as good as mine, which is sad considering how much some of these dudes online “get around.” I shoot the shit with him for a few minutes when he reveals he’s “horny as hell.” There was no need to even ask him to unlock his privates because I had already seen his look-book & BABY, the body was BANGIN! So I graciously oblige to let him come keep me company for the night. He interjected, “but you ain’t got no pics?”

*A WORD FROM OUR SPONSOR-

NO, I do not have ANY pics of myself on BGC, A4A or anywhere else on the internet (except facebook). "It’s a personal choice every man has got to make for himself [1]." I mean I'm not in the closet or anything, I just hate taking pictures. & TRUST, I ain't never had a problem; I don't even hit dudes up. I just login & BAM! bumrush. I guess it’s the mystery behind that question mark.

-NOW BACK TO OUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED PROGRAMMING*

He then states, “I don’t really like to meet w/o seeing pics…” Baby, he musta REALLY forgot bout me? I replied, “no problem. later man.” & that was pretty much all it took. He continued to message me, asking what I was looking for. I gave him my # (to the house phone of course; it's so much easier to ignore if I have to), 20 minutes later he was on the way. He didn’t stay far. So I straightened up, air freshened & vacuumed, & of course took a hoe bath (silly). He had trouble finding the place, which most people do for some reason. But by the time he stepped outta that [sports car] coupe (it was cute too) round 11pm, I was having second thoughts. I was even getting chills. Not that I got a bad vibe from him, it’s just that he was REALLY good looking…which for some very odd reason, intimidated me. & as we walked up the sidewalk to my place I felt like the night would end with me alone jacking off, as I had been doing the past two months.

He walked thru the front door, to my surprise as I had actually visualized him turning around & taking off running as we were walking. Though he was deathly afraid of my cat, Avery paid him no mind. It was me who was on pins & needles (what? I hadn’t done this since I first moved into the place). Forgetting exactly what to do first, I directed him into the bedroom & shut the door because I did not need Avery making him any more nervous than he probably already was. He made himself VERY comfortable across my bed. I sat on the edge (my groove was slowly coming back to me) & proceeded to do what I do best: interview my subject. & please don’t get it twisted because if it's one thing I HATE, it's needless small talk before a NSA (No Strings Attached) fuck. I explicitly know & understand the difference between a “fuck” & a potential “friend.” But homeboy was definitely leaning toward the latter off his looks alone. So we, well HE, talked & I listened & he seemed like a pretty cool brother.

As we lay listening to the slow jams on my computer I directed him to strip. He obliged & I did the same. We lay naked, side by side & continued the convo (his name was Jercorrian or Cori, he was 29 & living alone) & then he kissed me; soft, sweet. We talked more (he had just moved from east Texas, single, & attracted to me) our legs now intertwined & then I kissed him; playful, innocent. He rolled on top of me. We kissed and sucked each others lips, necks, & ears. He turned around, still on top of me but now facing the opposite direction. He inhaled me into his mouth so gently. His head game was tender, sensual like he was licking a popsicle. I then directed him to straddle my face & he damn near lost his mind. He was a talker (which is a BIG turn-on in my book; I hate it when they play dead) & he moaned & groaned until he couldn’t take nomore. He climbed off & for the first time that night he directed me, “I’m ready for that dick!” Now you KNOW he gots no argument from me.

He’s rubbin my body & breathing heavily while I’m in between his thighs, gazing into his eyes. He took me in with almost no effort & I began to stroke; slow, long. I started to bite on his neck & he screamed “don’t you mark me up!” I laughed...he sounded like me talking to Bruce (I'm sorry, I'm just not ready to begin the Bruce Saga with you yet). We continued on & he was an ANIMAL! Ecstatic shouts of “YES DADDY!” & “FUCK ME!” but the line that truly got me was “I’M COMIN BACK, BABY, I’MA BE BACK OVER HERE FOR SOME MORE!” Now to some, these are just meaningless rants. I mean when the sex is good hell, I done had dudes ask “BE MY BOYFRIEND?” & even scream “I LOVE YOU!” But for Cori to be feeding me these lines, as lonely & low as I had been feeling since becoming single in March; his empty words filled me. & honestly this was NOT even one of my best performances & it definitely wasn’t because of him. I mean staring at his body under the moonlight beaming through my window, that boy was a masterpiece from head to ankle (he kept his socks on). I just wasn’t fully feeling myself that night. Hell, I was only semi-erect the entire time. Though he made it clear online that he was “horny as hell,” the truth of the matter was that I wasn’t. All I wanted was the company of a man, to see the face & hear the voice of another man inside my empty ass apartment was my m.o.

He came while I was fuckin him, & you know that was my cue to pull out. I snatched off the rubber & oozed (not even a squirt, so sad). I immediately went to the bathroom to grab him some baby wipes & when I returned to the toilet to pee, I just stood there. Disappointed in myself & my performance, though it may have been just what m&m needed, I didn't feel a thing. He entered the bathroom behind me wearing nothing but briefs, he was even more beautiful in the light. After quickly getting dressed he said he “had to be up early for work…it was good, I’ll call you…” I walked him to the door & advised him that my house phone didn’t have caller id, or any features for that matter. He replied, “I’ll call & give you my # when I get home.” I simply smiled, “bye.” After locking the door I sat on the couch, & thought. There was no point in even keeping the phone by the bed. If he wanted me to have the number he would’ve given it to me at the door or in his car while he was driving I thought, “same ol’ dudes telling the same ol’ lies.” I went to bed…I never did hear that phone ring before I dozed off.

The next night when I got home from work, where did I find myself but on BGC (I swear, that shit is addictive), I had one new message. It was from Cori, sent 7:15am: “hey man. I enjoyed u last night, mu number is 214-***-****.”

REFERENCES

1. Cher (Alicia Silverstone) - Clueless; 1995