Sex: December 2007 Archives

Wow, we haven't done a dating update in a minute. Where, oh where do we begin? Well, it's Sunday morning. Praise the Lord everybody. This is the part where y'all all say "Praise the Lord" back. Speaking of the Lord, back in the day, growing up in church, when someone stopped coming to church that person was called a backslider, a person who has fallen from or left from the way. In my dating life I'm also a backslider. In the past week I have totally done a 180 from the quote-unquote "more righteous" path of self denial I'd been etching out for myself in the past few months and I'm really enjoying it. I've also gone back to some people and situations I'd left behind. Reunited and I'm not sure how it feels... Just don't judge me.

Waking up drunken and dehydrated on Nathan's bathroom floor the Friday before last seemed to really put things in perspective for me. I'd been doing way too much and had been trying way too hard to prove that I was "enlightened" and the pressure got to me. I turned to a bottle of Grey Goose vodka for relief. I told you guys and everyone else about it. The general consensus was that I should relax and not be so hard on myself and just be myself in general. So here I am, don't judge me.

The first step to being me was letting all that Puritan shit go. I'm obviously nobody's prude and no one's Puritan. I let the Puritanical homos with their haughty-holier-than-thou attitudes and turned up noses convince me that the online dating thing was bad and beneath me. After forsaking the online thing and actually going out to meet people at parties, in clubs and in bars for the past three months and having a few experiences like the one I had a week and a half ago. I realize that online dating definitely isn't so bad, it's definitely much easier and at the end of the day is much more genuine and no-nonsense. So on December 24th I ended my 93-day hiatus and got back online. The experiment is over! This time though I didn't put up any dick pictures on my profiles in an effort to keep them a little more PG. I'm not trying to attract the casual sex, jumpoff element anymore and you know, with me doing all this stuff as far as the blog and my writing, it's just not the best look. On my BGC profile I even put the address to the blog, nothin' says lovin like free advertisement, don't judge me.

Speaking of lovin' I definitely appreciate the love I've been getting from you all online toward the blog. I've been getting hit up with messages from people telling me how much they enjoy the blog and that they are regular readers. I even got two messages on A4A yesterday from some readers welcoming me back online. "He's back" one of them said. Besides blog lovin' I've been getting plenty of messages about other kinds of lovin' as well:

On BGC I've been getting hit up pretty regularly. I even met up with a friend from college that I haven't seen in two years. We chilled yesterday, it was great to be able to catch up. I actually caught up with a few more friends on there including one of my really good friends who I always know is back in the city from college when I see him on BGC trolling for dates. (You know who you are. Smile.) I even donated some money and upgraded my BGC account so now I can view the mobile site on my Blackberry (Miss Berry the Second) and I can view the site regularly with no advertisements (including the pornographic ones) which means that I can browse BGC at work when I'm bored. BGC is funny, it's evolved from a dating/hookup site to more of a networking/friendship site. It's much more tame than it used to be. It's like the black gay MySpace now. Here's a link to my BGC page.

I signed up for A4A but you know an account there takes 24 hours to process. When I signed in for the first time on the 28th I had 42 new messages. Damn, what a welcome back. Unfortunately, maybe like two of them were actually desirable to me, but I appreciate the love anyway. I hardly ever talked to anyone from A4A anyway. The guys on BGC and even M4N are usually more attractive.

Speaking of M4N, their accounts take 24 hours to process as well. I logged in there for the first time on Friday as well and had 172 new messages. Damn, I thought there was a glitch in the system or something, but there were indeed 172 messages there. I went through all of those and only replied back to about four of them.

With all this messaging back and forth you'd think I would have met up with one of these people. I actually have not. I've exchanged some numbers had a few convos but that's about it. Out of sheer boredom, late Christmas night after my date with this new guy, ummm, it's Sunday and I'm feeling Biblical, lets call him Amos... Lemme digress a little. Amos, I met at that party I went to in Brooklyn, the Friday before last, the same day I got all drunk and pulled a Lindsay/Britney in Nathan's bathroom and went shopping afterward, yeah that day. Amos and I went to see "The Great Debaters" Christmas night, a great movie by the way. As far as the date I guess there was a little Chemistry, he seems like a cool guy, a fellow Leo, but I remember him being cuspy though, like really close to the Cancerous side of things. The conversation was good and there was even a little touching and hand holding during the movie but we didn't kiss at the end of the night though. Not even a kiss on the first date, what kinda Leo is that? There has been some light texting and a phone convo since then, we'll see, don't judge me.

Now where were we? Oh yeah, sheer boredom and shit. Okay, later that night, once I got back home I got a text from Robo-Munchkin. You remember Robo-Munchkin, he was Online Dating Horror Story #4. I first met him a few months back. Short story: he was this short top dude that was trying his hardest to try and fuck me (I'm a top as well) and I laughed in his face. It's actually a very funny story, read it and catch up. Anyway he texts me. I, not recognizing his number and not knowing who the hell he was asked him and he reminded me. Then he asks me if I'm up for having a threesome. I said no as I'm not particularly fond of those. Then he suggests that he come over anyway. I asked why and reiterated to him that I'm a top and that he is not, I repeat not gonna fuck me. He suggests we do oral. I told him that I wouldn't suck his dick either. I just knew that this was the end of our conversation. He says that he's fine with that and that he'd just suck my dick. I agreed to that. Shit, why not? I'm home, alone, horny and a cute guy wants to come and suck my dick, how could I say no? So he comes by, sucks me off, I eat him out and almost fucked him. I would have fucked him except that my dick, the head really, couldn't fit in (That damn mushroom head is a gift and a curse). Uh huh, talkin' all that shit the last time I saw him, the top killer strikes again, don't judge me.

Oh and speaking of my mushroom head and people mentioned in past blog posts, remember Freddy, from this blog post? We did it. Wednesday night. My mushroom head almost made us not able to do it but we pulled it off, don't judge me.

"Maybe I am foolishly in love with someone that is
Not exactly on the same page, that I am on
Well all my friends keep telling me stop
Walking round so blindly
But when he calls they're not around
To ever remind me..."

"I guess I kind of notice he don't always act so kindly
But that doesn't stop my hunger, hunger for his heart
Why should I listen to those, who think that I should move on
Maybe what they see as drama, I see more as art..."

"Can't seem to get past how he makes me feel
May not be love but it feels so real
Can't go with what they say must follow my heart
But now is that even being to to me
Maybe I'm happy, truly content
Maybe this is as good as it gets
Do I have faith in my confidence
Or am I just thinking all hopelessly..."

-Vivian Green
from the song "What Is Love"

Speaking of going backwards, much to my chagrin I must admit that I have started seeing Pubby again.  I know, I know, I know many of you including my own friends have said that he's no good for me, that I deserve better, that I'm "a stupid bitch". But I like him, okay, I do. The times that we are together, though few and far between are great. And it's not like I'm not seeing other people, even though I'd rather just be with him. But ya gotta fill the empty space somehow. **sigh** Don't judge me.

Even though I was really pissed at him and had been giving him the cold shoulder for the past few weeks, ignoring his calls and text messages. Y'all know me and you know I can't stay mad forever. It's just not in me. He hit me up via email one day and we started talking about making peace. We went out to dinner last Sunday to Alfredo Of Rome. We hadn't seen each other in like two months so we got all caught up. We talked out all of our misunderstandings and agreed to communicate better. I'm not putting anything on it this time but I guess we'll see. I'ma just enjoy the time we spend together. He came to my house on Thursday night. In an effort to switch things up I asked him to cook for me this time. He cooked and the food turned out good in spite of the fact that he almost burned my apartment down in the process. Smoke everywhere, coughing, watery, burning eyes, opened windows, the works. Yeah baby, you sit there and look pretty and let papa do all the cookin' from now on. After the smoke cleared it felt so good to hold him in my arms again, don't judge me.

I've had more fun this week than I've had in a long time. Granted, every week won't be as sexual as this one was, and that's more than okay. It just feels good to be myself again, however promiscuous people think that may be. One thing I could say is that I haven't drank and haven't wanted to drown my sorrows in alcohol since that day at Nathan's house, that's a good thing. I'm sure my liver is happy about that and I finally got me some, my dick is very happy about that. In one week I just totally went against everything I'd been preaching for the last few months. Call me a backslider, call me Al Green if you will, just don't judge me.

==========
Playing in The Background...
"Too Close"
by Al Green
from the album "One In A Million"
and
"Tired Of Being Alone"
by Al Green
from the album "Greatest Hits"
==========

Last Saturday I attended a taping of my good friend DJ Baker's Doo-Dirty Radio Show. He was doing some interviews with a few gay porn stars T-Malone, Azucar and Peanut. Urban gay porn magnate Enrique Cruz was there as well. Right before I sat down at the table Azucar asked me "What movies have you starred in?" I have to admit I was flattered. I've always had a secret desire to do a porno movie. I don't see myself going through with it though. Anyway, while we were all just sitting around, Enrique Cruz, the renaissance man he is, pulls out his camera and starts taping their conversation about sex, dicks, porn etc. I even make a cameo as well. Check out the convo while it's hot and while it's still on YouTube:

Just in case you have a problem playing the embedded video here here's the YouTube direct link:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xZJceeW6884

LINKS:
- For more behind the scenes footage and a view into the life of my favorite porn director Enrique Cruz, check out his blog: EnriqueCruzBlog.com
- Check out the Da Doo-Dirty Radio Show. The best damn radio show ever!

==========
Playing In The Background...
"Porno Star"
by Joe Budden
from the album "Joe Budden"
==========

Last month I wrote a post entitled: "This Is How You Know You Are/Were A Ho..." It basically was about how I used to sleep around so much that my friends, especially my fellow top friends, when meeting or dating someone would ask whether I had already slept with the person. I touch on this subject in Episode 5 of the Mini-Series as well. Well, yesterday evening a few more of my ho-ish chickens came home to roost.

In all of my promiscuousness I have at least prided myself on at least remembering everybody I've stuck my dick into. Even if I don't remember names (which I'm bad at), or screen names (which I'm even worse at), I'll remember some sort of distinguishing characteristic, such as the streets they lived on, the outfits they wore or something they said, etc. I realized yesterday that I'm even slacking on that. The last time I made a list of my sexual partners I stopped somewhere around... well that's not important. My negative HIV test result yesterday is helping me to put my life in perspective. What irony is it that ten hours later I had this conversation.

07:15:40 PM    JonBoi48: Sup
07:16:31 PM    Adam: Whaddup?
07:16:44 PM    JonBoi48: Chillin'
07:16:48 PM    JonBoi48: U know who this is?
07:16:53 PM    Adam: Nope
07:17:11 PM    JonBoi48: This Jon..I hit u up all the time
07:17:40 PM    JonBoi48: U ain't ever hit me back after we chilled..sup wit dat?
07:18:01 PM    Adam: I'm sorry but I don't remember. How long ago was this?
07:18:07 PM    Adam: Do u have a MySpace?
07:18:25 PM    JonBoi48: I'm from New Hampshire..and I was staying in Harlem
07:18:32 PM    JonBoi48: and I just moved to NY
07:18:48 PM    JonBoi48: I got MySpace
07:19:02 PM    Adam: Okay, so we chilled n what happened?
07:19:07 PM    JonBoi48: We fucked
07:19:19 PM    Adam: Oh ok lol
07:19:22 PM    JonBoi48: lol
07:19:22 PM    Adam: Was it any good?
07:19:27 PM    JonBoi48: Yeah, it was good
07:19:30 PM    JonBoi48: U busted twice
07:19:36 PM    JonBoi48: lol
07:19:37 PM    Adam: ook
07:20:05 PM    Adam: I knew it was good, this is me we're talking about. I just wanted to hear u say it. LOL
07:20:13 PM    JonBoi48: lol
07:20:14 PM    JonBoi48: whateva
07:20:15 PM    JonBoi48: lol
07:20:20 PM    JonBoi48: O so U KNOW yo shyt is good??
07:20:37 PM    JonBoi48: U know who u talking to now?
07:20:40 PM    Adam: Not really, I'm sorry.
07:20:45 PM    JonBoi48: That's fucked up.
07:20:54 PM    JonBoi48: I sent u a msg on MySpace the other day.
07:20:57 PM    Adam: How long has it been?
07:21:02 PM    Adam: U did?
07:21:04 PM    JonBoi48: It was like September.
07:21:05 PM    JonBoi48: Yeah
07:21:09 PM    Adam: Did I reply back?
07:21:11 PM    JonBoi48: I asked u how u been
07:21:15 PM    JonBoi48: and u said "I'm good."
07:21:26 PM    Adam: Ook, that's common courtesy
07:23:23 PM    Adam: Well, since then I've been off the dating sites
07:23:32 PM    Adam: And I haven't been hooking up n shyt anymore.
07:24:04 PM    JonBoi48: U seen it?
07:25:04 PM    Adam: Ook, I remember now.

I'm funny, I didn't know who this dude was for most of that conversation and I was still flirting. While I am slowing down on the sexual tip, at the end of the day I'm still me. I'm a flirt and I still like sex. Even in my quest for true intimacy I don't ever see myself as one of those people who shut themselves down completely and becomes celibate. Oh, I'ma get me some eventually, just not so much on the first night anymore, ain't that much cuddling in the world. But whenever I do finally me get some I'll be sure to remember his name.

==========
Playing In The Background...
"Promiscuous" feat. Timbaland
by Nelly Furtado
from the album "Loose"
==========

This morning I woke up really early and made my way down to the clinic. No drips, bumps, rashes or legions or scares this time. It's just been a while since my last real relationship, I'd been having sex here and there since then, certainly not as often, everything safe of course and I just figured it's about time I get tested again. It's been a while and it's just good to know. I'm entering a new phase in my life where I'm learning the value of intimacy over random sex and I'd feel better knowing I'm entering this less sexual phase in my life totally safe. I wanna be able to say with confidence to the next man I lay with that I'm negative.

I arrived bright and early, waiting outside five minutes before they opened. I figured that I'd come early to avoid the crowds because if you come too late you will be here all day, like the DMV or something. Unlike times past I felt confident about this test. Sure I did the usual oh-Lord-Jesus-please-don't-let-this-test-come-back-positive bargaining with God as I left my house, as I walked to the train station, on the train, when I first got to the clinic, and right before I started typing this blog post on my Blackberry now as I wait for my results. I listened to gospel music all the way here to soothe my nerves. Even with all that I'm still not as worried this time as I have been in times past. I remember that one time I got tested I promised the Lord that if it came out negative that "I'd never touch another man again." God is such a good God, not only is he loving and faithful, he even knows when to ignore his children.

When I first walked in about an hour and a half ago I was the only person here. I was called into the office and spoke with the registration person. To keep everything confidential (You have the choice to give or not give your name. I gave mine because I wanted my results on paper.) from then on I'd be identified around the office by a letter or a number. Fittingly, I was given the number one. I gave a urine sample to be tested for gonorrhea and hepatitis as well. Since I was there I wanted the works.

Slowly but surely more people started trickling in. People of all ages coming into the registration office as men and women and leaving as letters and numbers. Looking around I began to think that I could have easily seen one of these people out on the street or maybe at a club. There was a beautiful girl about my age sitting across from me. My mind began to wander thinking of what circumstances could have brought her here this morning. And then there was a young man, decent looking, a hood dude. I could tell he was straight, the kinda straight dude that would probably beat you down if you said he was gay. He was going to see the doctor. Lord knows I've been there. We all looked at each other, exchanging glances every so often, probably thinking all the same things. All while the television, mounted in the top left corner of the room looped HIV/AIDS PSAs in English and then en Espanol over and over again. Every ten minutes Whoopi Goldberg, Susan Sarandon and Rosie Perez explained why it's not cool for gay men to do crystal meth and the joys of condom use in between terribly acted scenes played by amateur actors pretending to visit the clinic.

After waiting about 40 minutes I was called into the counselor's office.  He asked me about my sexual history, how many partners I'd been with in the past three months, whether I was gay or straight, whether I had sex for money or drugs, whether I'd done anything unsafe, etc. He even asked me what I thought the test result was gonna be. I told him negative. He was just so nonchalant about it all as though he were reading these questions from a hidden teleprompter. He didn't even look at me hardly. I mean, hey, he deals with this everyday, I guess he's probably used to it by now. I'm used to the customers at my job. The guests at the hotel don't bother me much, their sobbiest of travel sob stories do little to move me anymore, oh the airline lost my bag, oh my dinner reservation, it's whatever. I've heard it all before. People forget that even though these people are HIV counselors, it's still their job, it's a job. I really couldn't expect him to fall out on the floor if God forbid my test came back positive. I'm sure it wouldn't be the first time he's seen a positive result, nor would it be the last.

The most earnest question he asked me though was if my test came back positive would I be able to handle it? He actually looked at me for that one. I told him yes. I mean, I'm sure I could. It isn't the end of the world, right? I have friends and people I know people who are positive. They are living happy and healthy lives, taking care of themselves, still going out, still dating, some don't even take any medicine. If I were positive I know I'd be okay like that, right? I guess that's all easy to say until you're actually the one that's positive.

A few minutes later I was called in to take my test. I joked around with the nurse about how I hate getting my blood taken and how I'm never able to watch it go up the needle and fill the little vial. She tapped my arm and easily found a vein. As I turned away and readied my body for the prick of the needle it was already in. It didn't even hurt like it usually does. I even watched the blood fill the vial this time. It was no big deal. Then I took the OraSure test. That's the one where they test your mouth for HIV. It only takes about 30 minutes to get a result. Then I was sent back to the waiting room, awaiting my fate.

As I walked back in here just now I'm the center of attention, Hood Dude and Beautiful Girl both looking at me as well as all the new numbers and letters that have now filled the waiting room. The bandage on my arm pretty much tells my story. I felt like they were waiting for my results just as anxiously as I was. To ease the tension I took my phone out to began typing this and I thought a little prayer "Lord Jesus pleeeeease let this thing come back negative." and here I am.

"Number one" my counselor called out from across the hall. This is it. I nervously followed him to his tiny office and before I could sit down in the chair he said dryly "Negative, keep it that way." Alrighty then, thank you Jesus. I straightened up, fixed my clothes and left his office. As I got back to the hallway and waited for the elevator I saw Hood Boy, Beautiful Girl and the whole alphabet staring at me, craning their necks so they could see me through the waiting room doors, trying to read my face. I wanted to do a two handed thumbs up but I thought that that might be too much so I just smiled with my eyes like Tyra Banks always says to do. I think they got the point.

I'm negative, and I plan to keep it that way.

GET TESTED!

Links:
- New York City free HIV/STD testing clinic locations
- Find an HIV/STD testing site anywhere in the United States here

=========
Playing In The Background...
"Gotta Get It Right"
by Spiritual Pieces
from the album "Soul Food"
and
"Grateful"
by Kurt Carr & the Kurt Carr Singers
from the album "No One Else"
and
"That's Just The Way The Father Is"
by Kurt Carr & the Kurt Carr Singers
from the album "Awesome Wonder"
==========

Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

I woke up this morning next to someone I did not have any sexual contact with again. I was having a vulnerable night last night and after some counsel from my new friend we fell asleep in each other's arms. It was everything a normal sleep over first date would be but without the sex and once again I don't feel like I've missed anything.

I think I'm catching on to a new phenomenon here. I did this same exact thing almost a month ago, (remember the post I wrote about that?) and have done it a few times since. It's like I'm getting everything I need without the pleasure and complication of sex. We actually had a beautiful night last night. We talked and laughed and shared our experiences. We were attracted to each other physically but it's not a love connection and that's okay. He actually has some friends he wants to hook me up with. Shit, it's about damn time somebody hooks me up. A lot of long-lasting meaningful relationships start through hookups through friends so I'm actually kinda excited.

I have to admit though, my dick hardened a little a few times as we spooned through the night and hands traveled a bit but that I just chalk up to male curiosity. Gay or straight behind all of our designer labels, our careers and the fabulous lives we've created for ourselves we're all still little boys wondering "Is his thing bigger than my thing?" Yeah, there was a little bit of sexual tension, but that was only due to the fact that we were two attractive gay men in bed together. We woke this morning as friends and its the coolest thing. I'm glad that we didn't needlessly give in to our physical urges and ruin shit. Last night seems like one of those things we'll sit and laugh about someday.

==========
Playing In The Background...
"Friend To Friend"
by Diana Ross
from the album "Diana"
==========

We crowded around a compound table, you know, one of those big tables they make by pushing small tables together, in the corner of a popular New York diner last Saturday Night. Eight of us, six of us being members of our crew, Media Inc. Me, DJ, Tye Sexy, Shorty Roc, Ra Shawn and Soulgee (Dwight was there in spirit), Keemie my best friend of 12 years and JoJo, the guy DJ's seeing. As we laughed and talked about life and our upcoming projects, the topic of sex came up. It's very rare that you can get a group of grown folks together, especially our group of grown folks together and sex not become a topic of conversation.

DJ, as usual spouted his chauvinistic 'top-is-man-bottom-is-woman' rhetoric which always gets him eye rolls and exclamations of "Uh uh! No DJ..." from everyone except me (I just laugh) and Tye Sexy (she's a straight girl so it doesn't bother her so much). Sometimes I swear DJ is secretly straight but just likes to hang out with gay people because we're so much more fun. Somehow the conversations shifted toward the last time we've all had sex.

"Damn, I ain't had sex in a minute..."
I exclaimed.

"Ummm hmmm and exactly how long is a minute? We read your blog."
Shorty Roc retorted as the others looked at me with skeptical screwfaces. Gosh, you share a few sex experiences on your blog and take a few half naked pics on a railroad track and suddenly you're some type of nymphomaniac or something. What's with people?

"I mean, it's been a while..."
I answered, trying to figure out how long it had been since that night Winston came over.

"And how long is a while, a week, two weeks...?"
Shorty the inquisitioner continued.

"It's been a while... a minute."
I answered, looking into the stone faces of my friends wondering why I was appearing before the firing squad.

"Yeah, that must be a New York minute..."
Shorty said as though he knew something that I didn't know he knew.

Eighteen days. My minute is eighteen days, and counting. Eighteen days since I last got me some. It feels so much longer than it sounds. I mean, I am a native New Yorker. A week without sex I notice, after two weeks I get a little stir crazy, but this is eighteen days were talking about. I'm not used to this shit. I've just been so busy lately that I haven't noticed until now.

I made a sexual joke with a friend on the phone yesterday to which he responded "Please chile, I ain't had sex in six months." Six months! Dayyyyyyyum. I mean, granted I've had lapses of sexual activity have lasted longer than eighteen days before, they don't make this particular one feel any better or anything. This is not just eighteen days though. This is eighteen days, and counting. As far as that six month thing is concerned, that shit is just crazy, he must be like one quarter eunuch or something. I feel like the character "Samantha" (played by Kim Catrall) on "Sex And The City" when she said "I don't know where my next orgasm is coming from?". I concur Samantha, I concur. I don't even have any dates lined up for the weekend. Who knows when I'ma get me some ass again.

I have however, been masturbating as usual. Ever since I've been writing for Enrique Cruz's "Gay Sex Report" blog, one of the perks I get is a free membership to his website. It has sure been coming in handy, or rather cumming in handy (I'm sorry I couldn't help myself). I told him that when I ran into him last Friday at the "Dirty Laundry" movie premiere after which he reluctantly shook my hand. Enrique's stuff has always been my favorite and he chooses really hot guys for his videos. Every night before I go to bed it's me on the left side, my laptop, headphones, jar of Vaseline, and EnriqueCruz.com on the right side.

I got friends, I got my work, I got Enrique, I'll be okay. It's only at the moments when I pause from my otherwise busy life that I notice I haven't been getting any. On the other hand I haven't been getting any of the frustration, aggravation, and drama that go along with getting some, cuz you know having sex does involve at least two people and you have to think about the other person's wants and needs and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. So for the time being I guess I'm good. Maybe I'll luck up and my dick will just fall into someone hot in the near future cuz I sure don't have the time to look. I'll keep you updated on how long this sex drought lasts. This should be interesting.

==========
Playing In The Background...
"Jerk" feat. 50 Cent
by Next
from the album "Welcome II Nextasy"
==========

"It's just a fling baby, fling baby
Nothing more than a fling baby, fling baby
Just a bit of ding-a-ling baby, bling baby
Don't want relationships so swing baby, swing baby..."
-Girls Aloud
from the song "Fling"

Now that I'm single and not dating anyone, sex has become more sporadic than usual. I guess that's not so terrible in the final scheme of things, I just can't count on getting it the way I used to, ya know? And I'm not doing the internet thing anymore so that counts that out. Basically, if I don't meet somebody decent while I'm out it's just not gonna happen for me. And if the heavens open up and the stars align and I do end up getting me some, more often than not it's with someone I'm being intimate with the first time and will more than likely never see again.

I've learned from past experience though that when dealing with casual sex, honesty is the best policy. I have to admit, every dude I've ever fucked with isn't exactly the man of my dreams. A lot of the time I'm horny, he's there and I'm there and the shit just pops off. I'm sure I haven't been all that every dude I've ever fucked with dreams of either. I mean, hey, we all got needs, sometimes the opportunity presents itself and it's like hey, what the fuck? Why the hell not? But what's messed up is when we lull anyone, or knowingly allow anyone to lull themselves into believing that it's more than just what it is.

I used to be one of those people who thought that just because I fucked someone that they were my boyfriend. Awww, c'mon admit it, you we're too. You didn't just magically become the learned, cosmopolitan, wise-beyond-your-months (yes months, a month is a homo year), homo you are today. You were innocent, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed once before Raheem, Rahliek, Chad or whoever it was with a big dick and/or fat ass and a smile ("...that boy is poison, p-p-poison"), broke your heart and turned you into a bitter, jaded queen who doesn't believe in love anymore, remember?

I've been the bright-eyed, bushy-tailed (ewww forgive the pun, I just got into that) homo and unfortunately I've been Raheem as well. Being a little more experienced now every so often I find myself in the presence of one of those homos who I know if I fuck them they're gonna get attached to me. I used to just think, fuck it, I wanna hit, you gonna let me hit, we'll iron out the other shit later. Isn't it funny how hurting people hurt people? I was once hurt by a fly by night Chad, and now I've become one. How fucked up is that vicious circle? All I cared about was getting my nutt, going into the shit knowing that the person is gonna be open for me and knowing that I don't even feel the person like that. A lot of the time I would just ignore that feeling in the pit of my stomach that tells me what I'm doing is wrong. Do you know how many times I've done that shit? And how many times it's been done to me?

Recently I was in a situation where I was, well, I guess dating someone. It was a sexual thing we had going on. We'd see each other, we'd go out, or we'd just chill at the crib but at the end of the night we'd have sex. Not just sex, really good motherfuckin' sex, we'd fuck like wild animals. He had this angelic face and seemed so innocent in the streets but when I got him in the bedroom he was such a freak, just the way I liked it. If I had to give a Lil' Kim reference I'd say "the way he sucked my dick, he had me head over heels..." I get hard just thinking about the positions I'd have him in, the way he'd ride me, the way I used to hit it from the back and watch my dark brown dick impale his fat little light-skinned ass, to hit it missionary and watch his face twitch in ecstasy as he moaned my name, called me "Daddy" and told me that my dick was "the best he'd ever had". Ahhh the memories... He felt the same way I felt, about the sex that is, I mean it was fuckin' great. He told me that I know what he likes without him even having to tell me, as though we'd had sex before, like in another life or something. Unfortunately his compliment stroked more than just my ego. Somewhere in the midst of the moans and groans and the rhythm of our contorted bodies giving each other pleasure, my feelings got mixed up in there. And somewhere in the process I stopped just fucking him and started making love.

I really started to like him and I believe he liked me, as a person, hey why not? I'm a nice guy, but he wasn't developing that type of feelings for me and as much as I tried not to see it, I knew good and damn well. Things were uneven... again, what a terribly familiar feeling this is. I'd text him and if he didn't text me right back I'd think he was uninterested. I wanted to talk to him but I didn't wanna call too much. If I called him every time he was on my mind, I'd never be off the phone. What was he doing? Where was he? I was like Blu Cantrell, "looking at the phone as if it owed me a favor..." I hope he's not fucking somebody else, or rather letting somebody else fuck him. Why doesn't he fuckin' call me?

"Though I know what I love most of him
I'm walking on needles and pins
My addiction to the worst of him..."
-Feist
from the song "Brandy Alexander"

Our thing cooled off even more after a while, as all things do, as all uneven-made-up-in-your-imagination things do, we got busy, he more than I, we started seeing each other less and less and then talking less and less and then meetings started getting postponed and canceled. Days would go by without us talking and it started to become real apparent that my feelings were unrequited. He was my priority, while I was obviously only an option for him. So I decided to just cut him off, he was unhealthy for me. I was tired of feeling for someone who didn't feel for me, that was my love life story. So I made a declaration, it's over between us, fuck you, you know I'm feeling you and you don't feel me, lose my number, he apologized, I melted, we saw each other again, he sucked my dick, we talked, we cuddled, damn he's so fuckin fine, nothing changed, things got worse, he got even more distant, I declared again, fuck you, lose my number, I mean it this time, he apologized, I forgave him, he never took full responsibility for his actions, he made me take part of the blame, he tricked me, I resented him, I made him answer a question, the big question, the one I already knew the answer to, "How do you really feel about me?", he answered, I was angry, why didn't he tell me? Why did he let me fuck him all those times? Why did he come to my house, and eat my food, and lie in my bed, and smile my smiles, and laugh my laughs, and listen to my stories, and waste my time? He knew how I felt. I'm such an idiot. I cut him off for real after that time. I was desperate so I took a desperate measure. I erased his number from my phone. I told him all I thought of him via text message, all I had felt but had been afraid to say because I thought I'd lose him. He texted me the next day and I didn't even look at it. I deleted it. I didn't want to read his apology, or his explanation, or his insults. Because then I would have to say something back, and then he'd say something back, and then I'd day something back, and it'd start all over again. He was poison and I had to quit him before he killed me. I was fighting for my emotions, fighting for my life. I couldn't fall into him again. So I walked away. I took solace in the fact that walking away had gotten a lot easier than it used to be.

I wasn't as mad with him as I was at me. How could I fall for another Rahliek? I knew better but I couldn't help myself. What I am mad at him for though is the fact that he just didn't tell me that he was uninterested as soon as felt like he was uninterested? Why did I have to drag it out of him? Why didn't he just say Adam, we fucked, that was fine and good but I'm just not interested in you like that? What's so wrong with that? Why did he apologize when I was ready to walk away? Why couldn't he just let me go? He didn't want me anyway. I don't get it. As soon as I got all strong and confident and was ready to walk away he made me melt again, why? Why did he tell me all of those sweet things? Well I guess those questions will remain unanswered because I never plan on speaking to Pubby or answering any of his correspondences again, at least until I feel I'm totally over him. I know it's petty and not very mature or evolved but I gotta look out for number one this time, everybody else fuckin' does it. I just can't risk falling for this dude again.

I shoulda listened when I was told to leave him alone, that he was no good for me, that he was playing games and that I deserve more. Y'all, the readers of my blog, my guardian angels, people who don't even know me, with nothing to lose or gain one way or the other were hitting me up and telling me this. I guess it's like in the words of Tennessee Williams "I've always depended on the kindness of strangers." Thanks guys. I'ma finally get it one of these days.

On the other hand, in my recent involvement with Winston. I've noticed that he seems to be developing feelings for me rather quickly. So in everything we do I'm being real patient with him, telling him to slow down, get to know me, don't do so much so soon. We've had sex, it was very consensual, we both wanted it, he more than I though. He literally jumped on me and started ripping my clothes off. That was hot, but even with that I'm not 100% sure how I feel about him yet or how I want to proceed. He's cool, but I'm not necessarily looking for a boyfriend right now. I make sure that I'm straight up and honest with him at all times because I don't want to be to him what Pubby was to me. I'm aware of how easy it can be to lull yourself into a false sense of security with someone and I just won't allow  him to do that and as a result, no one is hurt. When fucking, honesty is the best fucking policy.

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Playing In The Background...
"Fling"
by Girls Aloud
from the album "Tangled Up"
and
"Brandy Alexander"
by Feist
from the album "The Reminder"
and
"Catching Feelings"
by Faith Evans
from the album "The First Lady"
==========

People are really funny about their friends. Far too often I've been in situations with present and former friends where I meet a friend of theirs and their friend is attracted to me and I to the friend but my friend doesn't want us to date. I always wonder why, why friend can't I date your friend? I mean, we're friends, right? What's the big deal? Why have you forbidden me from this fruit? Don't they realize that that's only gonna make us want each other more? Forbidden fruit is always the best tasting fruit (wink, wink).

When faced with this obstacle, this sanction between me and the one with who I'm newly infatuated, I usually go against my friend's wishes and date the person anyway. My stubborn, independent nature doesn't allow for me to abide by such an edict. It actually pisses me off that my friend would even come at me in such a way anyway, as I have never, haven't ever, and would never mind if things were the other way around. As much as I'm gay and evolved and in touch with my feminine side I can be very macho (Leo, King Of The Jungle) at times and that kinda thing I take (sometimes wrongly, but not always) as a strategy to exert control over me and I never take kindly to that. I mean, shit, you my friend and all but you ain't my fuckin' father! I fuck who the fuck I wanna fuck so fuck you. As a result my sociable dick has lost me a few friends.

A good example is the termination of my friendship with my ex-best friend Chuck. I've mentioned him a few times namely here, here, and here. One major blow to our friendship was the fact that I fucked and subsequently dated two of his friends, people I met through him, after being told not to do so. I took Chuck's instruction not to date his friends very offensively, as though he were trying to control my life. In his case I think he was trying to control me, that withstanding, what I've learned from that experience is that friendships are kinda like relationships, but without the sex (at least for most people), you gotta compromise. Even though I would never hinder friends of mine from dating and I personally see it as a great thing, especially if two people that I brought together find love and stay together, I'd only be concerned about whose side I'm gonna sit on at the commitment ceremony myself, but I digress. People have their own reasons to do what they do and believe what they believe and even though I may not understand the rationale behind it and think that it's absolutely absurd I also realize that if I really value that person's friendship then I may have to acquiesce, roll with the punches, and take one for the team from time to time. And if I really feel like it's that serious then I'll do what I want but at the risk of losing the friendship. 'Cuz honestly, if I didn't get the chance to stick my dick inside my friend's friend, I'd live. The real question is how much is the friendship worth to me?

That brings us to Thursday night. I was at Mr. Man's party at Duvet. I arrived at about 2:30a, fashionably late as usual. I'm standing by the bar sipping on my drink, cranberry vodka, minding my own business while Mr. Man went off to make his rounds through the crowd. That's when I saw Freddy. Freddy is someone I met at a networking event a few weeks ago. He is a friend of my friend, we'll call my friend, Devin. Using "Sex And The City" terms, I would describe Devin and Freddy as "frenemies". Frenemeies are friends that are cordial and somewhat loyal to each other but still have issues with the things that they don't like about each other. Those things they usually never hesitate to point out to others, especially if an inquiry is made about their friend. I wouldn't go so far as to say that they're fake friends, but as the adage goes, keep your friends close and your enemies even closer.

The day I first met Freddy he was very flirtatious, dropping not-so subtle sexual innuendo and double entendre throughout our conversation. That conversation also included Devin, who looked at Freddy in disgust, sick to his stomach at his friend's coquettish ways with someone he had been introduced to only minutes prior. Once Freddy left, Devin filled me in on the years of his and Freddy's history as friends. As Devin spinned it, Freddy's promiscuous ways had come between Devin and his other friends time and time before. It was to a point where Devin didn't even like to bring Freddy around his other friends anymore. This meeting was unfortunately unavoidable. As Devin talked I felt it coming, the passion in his voice, the frustration in his face, the subdued anger in his mannerisms, here it comes... here it comes... oh fuck! The edict:

"Adam, I don't care who you fuck with but you cannot fuck Freddy. If you fuck Freddy I swear I will never speak to you again."

Dammit! Not this shit again. So now I have to add Freddy to the list of people that I should legally, within my rights as an American be able to fuck (well, at least in most in most states) but cannot because my friend doesn't want me to. I mean like, what's the big fuckin' deal? I never understood this shit. I have yet in all my 24 years to tell a friend that they can't fuck somebody. Why cock block? Why hate?

Normally I would have been tight about this sorta thing but I figure that the friendship between Devin and I is good, why cause undue friction over a piece of ass? It's not like Freddy was "the one" or somethin', all he wanted from me was a ride on my dick. Granted, Freddy was sexy, my type, and a freak and I know the sex would be off the hook (his reputation precedes him) and although it'd probably be one night only, no strings attached, it wasn't worth fucking up a friendship with someone I see every other day. So I didn't sweat it and even though I didn't understand why it was such a big deal I shut my mouth, compromised and took this one for the team.

Back to Thursday night. I saw Freddy, we exchanged glances and then smiles and then he walked over to me. We exchanged normal club small talk, the-whaddups, the how-you-beens, the how-long-you-been-heres, we even talked about Devin and his where abouts that evening. He finally got me alone and it didn't take Freddy long to get down to the nitty-gritty.

"Why don't you fuck me so you can write about it on your blog tomorrow?"

"Huh?"

I said, pretending like I hadn't heard him as I over dramatized my tipsy-ness. This nigga is crazy, but it's so fuckin' hot though. Freddy looked back at me seductively, licking his chops like he was a ferocious lion and I was an unassuming, (kinda) innocent little lamb, and I'm supposed to be the Leo here. If he coulda took me in the bathroom right then I believe he would have.

"Shit, we can go in the bathroom right now..."

"Huh?"

I replied, totally dumbfounded and confused. I'm tipsy, this sexy ass dude wants me to fuck him at my ex-boyfriend's party, I'm horny as shit, I promised Devin I wouldn't do it, and even if I did try to do it on the low and swear Freddy to secrecy he's gonna eventually tell Devin, because they're frenemies and Freddy's just that kinda bitch.

"See that's whats wrong with y'all. Niggas is always scared..."

Now he's challenging my manhood, on some reverse psychology shit. Is there like some kinda coquette handbook that he's reading this shit from? 'Cuz the shit works, we exchanged numbers. Although I still wasn't planning to fuck him and I didn't save his number in my phone I didn't wanna look like a total pussy. Hopefully he wouldn't call, and if he did I just wouldn't answer the phone.

I saw Devin again Friday night. While we were out I told him about Freddy's advances at the club. I also reassured him that I wouldn't mess with Freddy because he told me not to. He told me that it was whatever and that he didn't care whether I fucked Freddy or not anymore. I don't believe him though.

It's Sunday and Freddy hasn't called.

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Playing In The Background...
"None Of Your Business"
by Salt-N-Pepa
from the album "Very Necessary"
and
"What About Your Friends"
by TLC
from the album "Ooooooohhh...On the TLC Tip"
==========