Sex: October 2008 Archives

A few years ago I met this guy online, let's call him Thomas. Thomas and I talked online for a while, exchanging pleasantries, being flirtatious, being sexual. We exchanged numbers and continued to talk every so often. One sunny afternoon out of the blue Thomas calls me and says that him and his friend are in my area and that I should be outside in fifteen minutes. I told him that I would need more time than that to get ready. I was meeting him in person for the first time and I wanted to make a good impression. He insisted that it wasn't necessary and that he had only just thrown himself together so there was no need for me to do anything extravagant. I jumped up and tried my best to get somewhat ready in such a minimal time.

After having them outside waiting in the back of my building for about about fifteen minutes, fifteen more than the fifteen I was originally supposed to be ready in, I got to the car. Thomas stepped out of the passengers seat of the car onto the cracked sidewalk, we shook hands. He was attractive, cute even, he looked better than his pictures and he was definitely right about not being put together. He had on an old ratty looking t-shirt, some sweats and some flip flops. As messed up as his outfit was it took nothing away from his looks though. Upon entering the car I greeted his friend as well. Thomas looked back, smiled and asked me why I was so well put together. He reiterated the fact that he said over the phone that I didn't have to do anything special. Then he asked me was that why I was took so long. I have to admit I was a little embarrassed, but it was cool though. His queries were all in fun.

We drove around for a while as Thomas' friend was running various local errands. During the ride I was pretty much silent in the backseat. I was just passively listening to their conversation and watching their dynamic. I like to watch friends, especially best friends, interact with each other, there's nothing like it. These two were definitely best friends. Every so often they would look back at me just to make sure I was still alive.

We ended up going back to Thomas' friend's apartment. His apartment was very nicely decorated. You could tell that a gay man lived there. After sitting on the couch a while Thomas declared that he was taking a shower. As he walked toward the bathroom he grabbed my hand and I followed him. We got into the bathroom and as soon as the door closed behind us we grabbed at each other like animals, kissing, fondling and grabbing at each other ravenously. We eventually got out of our clothes and made it to the shower where our foreplay continued, hot and heavy in the steam of the running water. Right when I was about to enter him he stopped me.

"Adam, stop. I can't do this..."

"What's wrong?"

"I can't do this..."

"Why?"

"I'm positive."

I couldn't breathe. I stood naked with my back up against the moist tiled wall, my head spinning like a centrifuge. Here I was about to fuck this dude with no condom (as most people don't exactly keep them on the soap dish). What was so crazy was that I pretty much knew I was gonna get some that day and I had condoms and lube on me in my jacket. I just never bothered to go get them. It would have ruined the mood and the spontaneity of the moment. In all this time I never even bothered to ask what his status was. It never even came up in all of our prior conversation. This was the first time in all of my fucking around that I was confronted with HIV. I never really talked about it much before. I knew my status, I'd been tested, but I never really discussed it much with my partners. He continued.

"I want to. I really want to but. I had to let you know. You're such a nice guy."

"Wow, how did this happen?"

In retrospect I see what a dumb ass question that was for me to ask, but I asked anyway. He proceeded to tell me that he pretty much knew who he contracted the virus from and that he tried to confront that person but the person moved to another state and changed their phone number. He said that his best friend, the one in the living room was one of the only people who knew. With a little sass in his voice he also said:

"Oh, and don't think that I'm the only one. If you're out here fucking around I know I'm not the first person who you've run into who has the virus. I'm just the first to tell you."

With sex, but a distant memory, we finished our shower, in silence. I wasn't angry, or scared, or disgusted by him or anything like that. I knew better, I knew the facts, I knew that HIV wasn't just gonna jump on me just because I was in the shower with him. I wasn't necessarily done with him either, he was a really cool person and HIV wasn't gonna change that. I was just sober, soberly thinking about all the fucking around I'd done, all the possibilities, how fucked up that person was who infected Thomas and just ran away and how Thomas didn't even have to tell me about his status, it's not as though I asked. I also wondered exactly why he told me. It was all just so crazy, he was so young, so good looking, he didn't look sick, he wasn't in a hospice with tubes running out of his body. He was nothing like I imagined HIV to be, he was like, like me.

We dried off and went back into the living room the friend was sitting on the couch like nothing happened. I guess from his perspective nothing did happen. He wasn't in the shower. We got dressed and ended up back in the friend's car. As we drove around I sat in the back of the car in uncertainty until Thomas asked:

"What train station do you wanna be dropped off at?"

They dropped me off at the train station. We said our goodbyes and I never heard from Thomas again. The scariest thing about that story had nothing to do with Thomas but everything to do with me. I totally let sex cloud my better judgment that day. I knew so much better than to do what I was gonna do but almost did it anyway. He had to be the one to stop me from protecting ME. How sick is that? Not being able to trust yourself to do what you know is best for yourself, that's scarier than anything else that happens on Halloween.

I remember sharing this story with my one of best friends about a year after it happened. We were sitting in the Village talking about life and the virus and it's effect on our community. We also talked about the 46% statistic, which now I heard is up to 48%. I told him that with statistics like that it's like it's either me or you now. Any one of us is can be one test away from a positive result. That's one of the reasons why I am never one to judge. We can get tested and we can take all of the necessary precautions and not be promiscuous of course but if you've ever been sexually active there's never any way to be 100% sure. Your test can come back negative today and show up positive a few months from now as HIV can lie dormant in your system before there is enough antibodies of it to be detected by a test.

I'm no doctor and you can always look up the facts from a much more reliable medical source than me but the point I wanted to convey here was that we all need to make better decisions. We also need not judge anyone, especially those with HIV because none of us are exempt. I have friends today with HIV and I love them, respect them, and treat them as I would any other friend and they are all fine, healthy, dating and living their lives as they should be. At times in the midst of all of our fun and day to day living I forget that they even have the virus. They have to remind me at times and that's the way it should be. It's not something I need to dwell on. HIV, as unfortunate as it is is not a death sentence.

Thomas was the first person I ever met with HIV and as dumb as it sounds today, back then I really was shocked at how healthy and quote-unquote "normal" he looked. My experience with Thomas taught me how important it is to be nice to people, all people and to have an aura of openness about myself so people could feel comfortable telling me anything. I actually wish that Thomas would have kept up with me. I tried to correspond with him after that but to no avail. I don't fully understand why he never wanted to talk to me again but I respect his decision. I never got a chance to thank him for that day in the shower. He taught me more than all the sex education classes in the world could have taught me and I'm different today because of it.

==========
Playing In The Background...
"It's O.K."
by BeBe & CeCe Winans
from the album: "BeBe & CeCe Winans Greatest Hits"
==========

So I'm on BGC earlier and I responded to a message. As the sent message confirmation page came up I glanced at the porn ad on the page and I was shocked to see yet another person I know doing porn. That brings the number of porn stars I've slept with up to five. Damn.

Why? Why did he do it? Was it for the money? Or is he just an exhibitionist freak like that? I hope it wasn't just for the money. Because I know for a fact that black gay porn acting does not generate much money, unless you're in such high demand that you're doing movies all the time and even with that you aren't making all that much money. No more than a really high end professional like a lawyer or a heart surgeon or something like that would make and that's on the exceptionally, exceptionally, exceptionally high end of black gay porn. And is even that kind of money worth all the mental stress, the stress on your body, your life, your relationships, and your reputation? Not to mention that a good portion of your earnings will go to all the liquor and drugs you'll probably be using to maintain such a taxing lifestyle. Why do think half of these niggas dicks can't get hard in porn? What good is a twelve inch dick if the shit can't get hard?

I know someone who owns a porn production company, I'm sure some of my porn connoisseurs out there have seen his stuff. He's sat and told me, cracking up laughing, about how he's gotten guys to fuck and be fucked in some of his movies for as little as fifty or twenty-five dollars and at times even for free! On the high end he won't pay any of his actors, even some of the better known ones more than a couple hundred bucks for a scene. And royalties? What royalties? This ain't network TV.

The only people who seem to make the real money in black gay porn are the studios. The life of the average black gay porn star, at least from what I've seen is far removed from the lifestyles of people like Jenna Jameson, Heather Hunter, and even Jake Steed. First of all we're talking gay here, gay porn by virtue of us being a sexual minority (at least that we know of) probably wouldn't generate as much interest and money as straight porn and black gay porn, a minority within a minority, I'm sure puts further restraints on things, probably further stifling possible earnings. I'd bet that most of these guys we see in these porn films have more than likely fell on some type of hard times to even consider doing it. Of course I'm sure that there are exceptions to all of this, but every black gay porn star I've met is hardly rich or extremely happy with their career choice.

I'll be damned if I ma fuck on camera for a measly couple hundred bucks! Awww hayell naw! But people do it, why? I'd love to ask that guy I know, what made him do that shit? If his parents saw that shit, they'd die.

Don't get me wrong, even with all I've stated, I personally have nothing against porn. I even watch it at times. My issue with porn isn't so much the morality, but the money, well the lack thereof that concerns me. I'm so shocked that these people don't get paid more, they damn sure deserve it. But at the end of the day, it's an industry with adults over 18 who in sound mind have signed on the dotted line for whatever it is they get. It just ain't for me. I know we're in an economic crisis right now and times are hard, but they ain't that hard, at least I hope they aren't.

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

So I'm online on one of the dating sites minding my own business when this guy hits me up. This guy hits me up like every day with the same gross message and every day I ignore him. First of all he's like 37. Even though I'm not into older guys, especially ones that much older than me, I set them to a higher standard, because they're older. I expect more from them in the ways of couth and conduct. There's a certain way that an 18 year-old, a 25 year-old and a 37 year-old will step to someone he's interested in and they're all different. Usually I would ignore this guy as I'd been doing, but he just didn't seem to be getting the hint and I wanted to nip this in the bud. So here we go and as always I have my sidebar comments thrown in:

37yo: come over man...I want to suck you off

Sidebar: That's no way for no one, not to mention a 37 year old to greet anyone. How gross? As much as I like sex and as sexual as I am on this blog I have yet to initially greet someone online or off by saying something like "Yo shawty, I wanna fuck you." And I don't respond well to greetings like that. Like how many other dudes have you greeted like that today? Yuk! Believe it or not I'm becoming more prudent as I get older. I know, it's hard for me to believe too.

Me: U must not have read my page, ur way too old for me.

37yo: oh come on man...I look great, nice body etc! not old looking or anything

Sidebar: Y'all, please don't ever do this. If someone online has made it clear that they aren't interested in you please move on. Don't try to state your case to them, it's so unattractive and beneath you. You are wonderful and if someone can't appreciate that, fuck 'em. Even if the person is me, fuck me too (not literally LOL). There are people who I've hit up online and are obviously not feeling me and I let it go. I wouldn't have let it get this far. If I hit you and you don't hit me back I get the message. This shit is what internet stalkers are made of.

Me: Why are you debating this with me? That alone is unattractive. I'm someone who is telling you that he doesn't want you to suck his dick. If you are as great looking as you say you are then there should be a bevy of other willing and eligible dicks that you can suck on. Mine is just not one of them. It's like dude, move on, have some dignity.

Sidebar: Okay, I probably could have phrased that a little better, but after having him hit me up on the same shit for the past several days. I was annoyed.

37yo: honestly, do you want to debate with me? I am not pleading a cause with you dude! so Dude, its not like honestly move on!!! you made a statement and I responded, I am not begging or pleading, cause just this reaction tells me lots about you....and your very selected requirement is a great peak into your insecurities little guy! So dont start, and dont act like you are any more than the piece of meat that you are! I have never made a claim that I am so good looking that I am a must get.....you on the other hand seem to think you deserve exclusivity....makes me wonder why not go to the under 18 websites....?? Since you aren't ready to play with adults!!?

**yawns** All that from the guy who wants to suck MY dick? Really?

==========
Playing In The Background...
"The Greatest Love Of All"
by Whitney Houston
from the album "Whitney Houston"
==========

Yes, hello all. My name is Adam Benjamin Irby and I am a big ol' bottom. I love dick, oh how I love dick so much. My life isn't complete unless I am sitting on a dick. In fact I am sitting on one one right now right now, oh yeah, that's right big daddy, that's the stuff.

Are you bitches fucking happy now?

I swear some of you people make me so fucking sick I could hurl.

It's been repeatedly brought to my attention that some of you have taken issue with the fact that I mention that I'm a top on my blog. Some have even gone as far as to say that I say that I excessively say that I'm a top because I'm trying to convince myself of it, like I have an issue with being a bottom, like I'm some kind of closet bottom or something. The wildest and most outrageous of the allegations is the suggestion that I have some kind of contempt for bottoms. That's the shit that makes me mad. This whole matter has to be the dumbest shit I have ever fucking read.

Lemme break this down: I fucking write fucking a fucking blog in which a considerable portion of it is about, guess what, fucking. Anal penetrative gay male sex to be exact. And when one is engaging in anal penetrative gay male sex with another gay male, one participant in that sexual act is known as the bottom, the penetrated partner and the other as the top, the penetrating partner. Do we understand that?

Are you still with me or am I moving too fast for you. Actually let's take a breather and let that sink in. If you need to go back and read the last paragraph over again... Alright, you ready? Let's proceed.

This is deep, now follow me on this, I don't wanna lose you now. So if when I have sex my preference and standard practice is to be the penetrating partner, that would make me a what? Don't all yell out at once, raise your hands, yes girl in the back of the room... Yes I would be a TOP.

If I write a blog post talking about sex, describing what I'm doing during sex, penetrating my partner, my role would be that of a what? Don't all yell out at once. A TOP. Bingo.

So I am a man who during sex prefers to penetrate other men with my penis and looks for partners who enjoy being penetrated. Most people would describe me as what? A TOP. By George I think you got it!

Now whether you personally think that I'm a top doesn't concern me at all, you can think I'm a bottom all day long, start a rumor, and email chain if you will. I don't give a fuck, I'm not fucking you, what's it to you? I only fuck with people who can read anyway and some of y'all obviously can't! If I were a bottom I'd have no problem saying it. I'd be the best dick riding-est, dick taking-est, bad-ass bottom motherfucker y'all ever seen and I'd talk about the shit on here with just as much candor and explicitness as I do right now being a top. Being called a bottom, or just plain ol' being a bottom isn't a bad thing or an insult. In fact I'd love to read a blog by someone who's a straight up full bottom who is as explicit as I am. I'd love to get the viewpoint from the other side. If you know of a blog like that let me know.

I even wrote a blog post about a time in which I bottomed (read that post here). How the fuck do y'all think I know that the shit is not for me? Y'all know I'm a freak. I had to try the shit out first. I didn't just pull this whole "I'm a top" shit outta my ass (forgive the pun), like what the fuck? So to answer the question, have I ever been fucked before? Yes. Did I like it? No. Is there anything wrong with being a bottom? No. I also wrote a blog post where I talk about how much I love bottoms (click her to read). This is ridiculous.

I'm sure some of y'all still stuck on that masculine/feminine bullshit may look at me with my silver baseball caps and airbrushed pictures on my banner and say "Oh that bitch is too cunt to be a full top." You think that shit bothers me? Hell no. Have I ever had problems getting ass when I want it? No. I know me, I see me, I don't think I'm feminine. I'm your average, everyday homo. I like Britney Spears and "Sex And The City" just like the next fag. Do I switch when I walk? No. But I like guys who do.

The only reason why I would say that I'm a top all the time is because I talk about sex all the time and when I have sex my position is what? TOP. You fucking idiots!

The overall issue here is not my saying that I'm a top. The problem is that you have an issue with whatever it is you do. Maybe you have an issue being a bottom? As for me, I'm good.

So you're probably wondering why this whole issue annoys me so much and gets me so mad. It's not because people may think I'm a bottom or that I'm scared that people will think that I'm a bottom or even that people think that I'm some kind of undercover bottom. I don't care about that. I don't give fuck what people think as far as that's concerned. I know what's going down in my bedroom. What makes me mad is the fact that someone would think that I have a problem with bottoms, a good portion of my friends and virtually all of my romantic partners are bottoms. Like hello, there are no tops without bottoms. I love bottoms.

Top, bottom, versatile, whatever, we're all gay men, no one is no better or worse or gayer than the other, this is bullshit. In a time where there are still motherfuckers who read my shit that still have a problem even telling people that they're gay you (I took a motherfuckin poll to prove it, look at it here) people are throwing stones at me for being an out and proud gay male who says that he's a top. Yeah, okay, that makes sense. But really, what kinda stupid, fucking asinine, ludicrous-ass bullshit is that?

Think about it.

==========
Playing In The Background...
"Trading Places"
by Usher
from the album "Here I Stand"
==========

Addendum: I realize that this blog post was a lot, a lotta cussin', a lotta sarcasm and it may have even been perceived as angry. I'm actually not so much angry as I am annoyed by it all. That whole thing actually kinda blindsided me. As I stated I was offended by the fact that here I am a very out and proud gay black man getting all this static for saying that I'm a top while it's gay dudes out here trying to front on the DL. That is crazy to me.

People who've been around for a minute who know how I am read stuff like that and say 'Oh that's just Adam, he just needed to get something off his lil' bird chest.' (LOL) Either way the post wasn't meant to offend anyone who didn't need to be offended and if it did offend you, take a moment to look inside and ask yourself, why?

As always, I enjoy all of your comments, positive or negative and whether you agree with me or not I'm all about the discussion.

((Muah))
-Adam

Now I have done some mildly freaky shit in my life, but for the most part I'm pretty traditional about mine, that's my choice. But writing this blog, hearing from you all and being exposed to all different kinds of people and all different kinds of things has made me pretty open and non-judgmental. I've basically seen and heard it all, if not live, most certainly on the internet, so at this point nothing really surprises me. I'm pretty much the "If you like it I love it as long as you're not hurting anybody" type of guy. But every once in a while something will come along that will make even me raise an eyebrow.

Someone just sent me this message online:

"What up son. I got a wyld fetish for dudes that SNORE when they be sleep. If you smoke or drink, dont deny that shyt- you snore. dont be embarressed cuz I like snoring. Im about to be real with you: Im tryna make you nutt in your sleep "ON THE PHONE" while you snoring. Be honest and real about your snoring cuz the louder you snore- the better that shyt is yo. I know it sounds weird but its sexi as hell!!! If you snore and this phone shyt sound good, hit me back wit a message letting me know how bad you snore. If you not feeling this, let me know so I can let you fall back and you wont get messaged again. This is no joke and im very serious- trust me, you go be feeling this shyt when I do it! Make sure you hit me back son. open yo pix if they locked. *if you got fuked up feet or you feminine, do not respond - just put me on block*"

A snoring fetish. What the fuck?

That's a new one.

Too freaky for me.

==========
Playing In The Background...
"Can We"
by SWV
from the album "Release Some Tension"
==========

PS: I don't snore anyway.

==========
I'm reposting this one because it's one of my absolute favorites and it came to my mind because I'm on my way out to the barber shop to see my fine ass barber right now.

Enjoy.

Originally posted on September 5, 2007 7:14 PM
==========

Ahhh yes, the barber shop. "The Black Man's Country Club," as a black man the barber shop has been a part of my life as long as I can remember. I remember hating it as a child though. Every other Saturday my mother would give my oldest sister money to take me to the barber shop. She would take me to her friend's barber shop to get my hair cut. And of course her friend was the most popular barber in the shop and of course everyone wanted to go to him to get their hair cut and of course it would take all day long. She would make me wait, and wait, and wait for him even as other barbers anxiously stood around with empty chairs. I hated the barber shop so much that I grew a high top for a few years as a child, but even that you have to fade and shape up. The end of the haircut though was always the worst. That spray with the minty green alcohol would sting so much. What the hell did they used to cut my hair with, a rusty meat cleaver?

In my preteen years I changed barbers and started going to the barbershop by myself. I wouldn't have to wait for my sister's barber friend anymore. I could choose any barber I wanted, whoever's chair was free. I was in and I was out. That's until the first time I got "zeeked". Getting zeeked is getting a fucked up haircut. There was nothing you could do to reverse a zeeking, once it's done, it's done. Your only choices were to go bald or stay indoors until your hair grows back right. I got zeeked by this drunken, yellow-eyed barber (didn't realize that at the time) once when I was 13. He cut my hair way too low and I hadn't fully grown into my head yet, and having hair on my head had caused the top of my head not to tan the color as the rest of my face. I looked crazy. When I looked in that mirror and saw my head I wanted to kill him. As a remedy to the situation I went home and pretended to be sick for a whole week until my hair started to grow back. I could not let the whole eighth grade see me looking like that. To this day my mother doesn't even know I was faking that whole thing.

But when I grew into my teen years and now into my adult years started to became more of a pleasure than a mere necessity. Besides the obvious feeling of wanting to look good. I started getting into how sexy some of these barbers are. The barber shop, like most things can be so homo-erotic. Get into it. There's me, the customer in the big leather chair and my sexy ass barber giving dap to his last customer. He flashes his million dollar smile at me and asks "What do you want?" If he only knew what I really wanted, too bad all these other people are around.

I look ahead and see him in the mirror as he walks up behind me to unfurl the black nylon barber cape that he fastens around my neck ever so gently, his every touch sending electricity to the nether regions of my body. I catch a glimpse of his ass as he turns around and begins to fiddle with his barber's instruments. He stands in front of me at 1:30 and then 10:30, his body slightly leaned over cutting my hair down. The light scent of his cologne is intoxicating as I watch my hair drop to the floor. I close my eyes as he slightly brushes his fingers against my face and I let the hum of his clippers relax me.

He stops, switches clippers and steps to me, the closest he's been to my face yet. His left hand lightly lifting my chin as he lines me up. I look at his face, my eyes tracing his strong masculine features and jawline, then I look to the right at the glass cookie jar filled with condoms and lube packets, then down to the left at the bulge in his jeans, then back up into his beautiful brown eyes that hypnotize me, up to his perfectly edged up hairline and back down to his juicy pink with lips with that thin mustache that rides them so perfectly. I want to kiss him so bad I could taste it. If he could only see how hard I am under this cape. If only he knew how badly I wanted him to rip this cape off me and ride me until we both climax.

He pulls back from me, lightly places his hand over my eyes and sprays three strong misty puffs of green alcohol over my head, then he removes my cape and lets me get a once over in the hand mirror. Alas, my haircut is over and I didn't even get to cum. That stings more than the alcohol. I come back down to reality and see all the pictures that line his barber's station. I forgot, he's straight. I conveniently forget that every week I come in.

I look good though, as usual he did a good job and I give him a good tip, not the tip I would have to have given him though if the situation were different. But it's worth it, anything to see him flash that smile at me again. Now I have to find a way to hide this erection I've got and not make eye contact with anyone as I leave the barbershop. I'll be back next week though.

==========
Playing In The Background...
"Dirty Mind"
by Prince
from the album "Dirty Mind"
==========

It seems like every other day I'm finding that someone I know or used to mess with either used to be in porn or is currently starring in porn. It's like every other homo out there is getting dicked down in some porn, as though this is a viable career or something. I mean hey, I'm not one to judge and I watch my share of porn (especially the ones at Nubian101.com), but anyone can agree that porn isn't exactly the healthiest career choice. I'm guessing, straight people help me out here, that this isn't too much of an issue for y'all. As far as how I feel about it all, the past is the past, I wouldn't necessarily say that I couldn't be with someone who used to do porn, but I can say with much certainty that I couldn't be serious about someone who currently has a career in porn. Now if we just fuckin', then it doesn't matter.

As far as me doing porn, I've been asked a few times by a few different companies, and even by a few dates and as flattering as that all is, I have always declined. There's no way in the world I'm doing porn. I already do this blog, I don't wanna totally give my mother a heart attack.

This social climate where it seems like everybody is doing porn now prompted some friends and I to have this conversation the other day. A friend of mine posed the question: How many porn stars have you slept with? I had to think about about it. How many people had I messed around with who had been or are now doing porn? As of about two weeks ago my number is four. I've fucked four porn stars. Two I knew about and two I didn't.

Who they are you ask? You know them. Three of them are currently working. Am I gonna  give up their names? Hell no. Y'all know I'm not messy like that.

So, how many porn stars have you slept with? Comment and let me know.

By the way, if you haven't noticed, the "Comments" link is now at the top of the posts right under the title instead of the bottom.

==========
Playing In The Background...
"Save The World"
by Girlicious
from the album "Girlicious"
==========