You Turn Me Off

Kendrick kinda reminds me of this gay man who appeared on a VH1's "I love New York."

Kendrick kinda reminds me of this gay man who appeared on a VH1’s “I love New York.”

You’ve read my blog and I cannot lie. I’ve had helluva lot of sex.

But it’s funny. There are a handful of men who, no matter how handsome they are or how hot their bodies are, I just cannot have sex with them. My dick will barely get hard.

Sometimes it’s something they say or do. Or maybe it’s just the attitude.

One of these men is “Kendrick.” Kendrick is six-foot three, around 40 years old, with warm brown skin. He has a handsome, boy-next-door face and is built like a track star with a high plump booty.

But he turns me off no end.

I met Kendrick about two years ago when I set up a foursome. He showed up at the door wearing skinny jeans, a tight V-neck shirt cut so deep I swear I could see his navel, and a gold pair of tennis shoes with wings.

Yes, gold tennis shoes with wings. Like these!

Photo courtesy of

Photo courtesy of

He hadn’t even walked in the door and already he had turned me off. Here is a grown man, tall as hell, dressing like some faddish twink half his age. It was visually jarring. It just looked stupid.

Plus he was very feminine. I mean, not in a fierce Sasha kinda way. But in an old lady fussy kinda way. You know. Like that elderly aunt you have who never misses a church tea and always wears the big hats to service.

And he has a whiny tone to his voice that is grating.

A Jamaican top with a huge dick and I planned to fuck Kendrick and another bottom. But instead of trying to do foreplay Kendrick just grabbed the Jamaican guy’s limp dick and started pulling at it.

“Why isn’t it getting hard,” he whined. “Is something wrong?”

If looks could kill the stare the Jamaican guy gave Kendrick would have electrocuted him on the spot.

That one comment from Kendrick just spoiled the mood. The top moved on to the next bottom and Kendrick became the odd man out because nobody wanted to be bothered with him.

Kendrick always complains that he can never get a date, much less a hookup. So when he called me the following week I offered some advice.

“Kendrick if you want to turn a man on you don’t grab his dick and demand why it isn’t getting hard. Try some foreplay. Work his nipples or kiss his neck or something,” I began.

“And also you should never criticize a person sexually during the actual act. You embarrassed the man! Hell I was embarrassed for him!”

“Okay, I understand,” Kendrick said.

Fast forward to this September. My boyfriend “Van” and I had a sex party. Kendrick noticed the online ad and asked to come. Against my better judgement I agreed.

At the party I was playing with this cute little plump bottom dude who is a mean dick sucker when I noticed Kendrick entering the room. When the bottom stopped sucking my dick Kendrick grabbed a condom, slipped it on my dick, and tried to straddle me and put it in his ass.

My dick went limp as a noodle as soon as he touched me. Like this!

Photo courtesy of

Photo courtesy of

“Hey, sorry Kendrick,” I said, making an excuse. “I have to help Van handle the door. We have people knocking. Maybe later.”

“Okay,” he said.

Later I fucked the brakes off another bottom and I noticed Kendrick watching closely, like he wanted to jump in. I ignored him, which was good because another top grabbed Kendrick and gave him some dick so I was off the hook.

But the next week he texted me.

“I saw you giving that bottom some dick. Why didn’t you give me some?”

“And I didn’t know you had a boyfriend. Who is Van? Can I still come over sometime and get that big dick?”

I hate to hurt people’s feelings but this had to stop. I had to be straight up with this man or he was going to sweat me for another two years. Our text conversation went something like this. Sorry, I didn’t save it.

“Kendrick I’m sorry but you just don’t turn me on. Let’s just be friends.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I’m just not turned on to you sexually.”

“Well there must be some misunderstanding.”

“No, I’m serious.”


I haven’t heard from Kendrick since.

Q: Readers is there a type of man who just turns you off? Please share.



An Early Christmas Gift

Photo courtesy of

Photo courtesy of

A month ago I got a text from an unfamiliar number. No name came up because it wasn’t it my contacts.

“Hi, this is ‘Cameron,'” the text read.

Cameron? My son Cameron?

Another text popped up.

“I just got a new phone and wanted you to have the new number. And I want to hang out. Let me know when you are free.”

Folks who follow my blog know my relationship with my son has been shitty (Read the entries Faggot and  Troubles). All the bad things happening in his life, most of which are his fault, he has blamed on my leaving his mother and being gay.

So I have taken a hands-off approach. I pray for him every night and let God handle things. And I go and pick up my daughter, pay my child support on time, and try to be the best father I can to her.

So getting a text message from him out of the blue was surprising. Why did he want to meet me? To have another argument? To blame me for everything again?

But I went out on faith.

We arranged a Sunday afternoon date at the mall to watch Denzel’s movie, “The Equalizer.” All that week and earlier on Sunday I was a nervous wreck. It was like going out on a first date.

Would this be a good meeting? Or would it disintegrate into another brawl?

I got to the Mall first because he had to work a little late. I was glad to see him. He is working a full-time job now and had on a nice outfit and sneakers. He is a few inches taller than me and skinny like a rail like I was when I was his age.

And his eyes were clearer and his skin looked healthier. Was he cutting back on the weed?

“Hey good to see you. I already bought the tickets. What do you want to eat?”

“Hey Dad. Some nachos will be fine.”

“Cool, I got it.”

A scene from the Equalizer.

A scene from the Equalizer.

For the first half of the movie we sat, just enjoying the previews and the feature film and each others’ silent company.

The he turned to me in the dark and whispered.

“Dad, I really need to talk to you. Can we go out in the lobby?”


We walked out to the lobby. I had no idea what was up. Had he brought me to the movies to reveal some really bad news? Was he going to jail? Was his girlfriend pregnant?

We walked to the lobby and I turned around and faced him and got right to the point.

“Are you okay son? Is everything alright?”

Tears well up in his brown eyes and his shoulders slumped.

He paused and spoke.

“Dad, I want to apologize. I’m so sorry for the way I have acted. I was wrong. I forgive you and please forgive me.”

And he broke down, sobbing. His shoulders heaving. I mean, he is 21 years old and taller than most men but it was like he was a little kid again, coming to me crying after he fell off his bike and skinned his knees.

The parents out there will understand what happens next. When your child is in pain you just react, you don’t think.

I took him in my arms and squeezed him tight. There were folks all around us in the movieplex, going back and forth to the bathroom and refill popcorn at the concessions. But it’s like they didn’t matter. It was just my son and me.

“Son, it’s alright,” I said rubbing and patting his back. “I’m so proud of you. You are working on getting your certification and you have a full-time job. You have always been a good kid. I always knew that. I love you.”

I held him a few more seconds and let him go.

Unfortunately or date didn’t last longer. He had borrowed his mother’s car and had to get home before the movie ended because she had to go somewhere and was blowing up his cell. I really don’t even think he told her he was meeting me.

“Okay, let’s hang out soon,” I said.

“Cool, let’s do that,” he answered.

So now I am taking it slow. Rome wasn’t built in a day. It takes time to rebuild a tattered relationship. We text and I check up from time to time. And I plan to hang out with him again soon.

I don’t need anything under my Christmas tree this year. I got the best gift a father will ever get in the lobby of movie theater in the Maryland suburbs between Washington, D.C. and Baltimore.

I got my son’s love and an apology that erased all that has gone before. A new start. God is good, isn’t he?




hoesaintloyalThe gay world is messy. I try to stay above it. But as any faithful reader of this blog can attest sometimes I get messy, too.

But on Friday I won an Oscar for “Best Supporting Actor in a Messy Drama.” Whew, it surprised even me. But first I have to give you the background.

In the last six months or so of my relationship with my ex “Morgan” the sex just wasn’t there. He barely touched me and always made excuses for his low libido.

It was his medication, or I was nagging him too much, or he was having erectile dysfunction.Yet I saw signs he was masturbating or possibly playing on the side. Dirty, cum-crusted tissues under the desk in his office and bottles of lube. A hard drive full of gigabytes of porn. A sex toy left out by accident that I discovered when I came home  from work.

So I decided, after a year of being faithful, to step out and get some sex on the side. Because I was horny and frustrated all the time and the man I really loved and wanted was leaving me high and dry and not wanting to fix the problem, let alone talk about it.

And one of the guys I hooked up with was “Omar,” this handsome, well-built, middle-aged accountant who was also cheating on his man. Omar is a Creole from Louisiana with brown skin, a nice body, a big dick for visuals and a decent ass for fucking.

Omar's body. I won't show the face to avoid further drama.

Omar’s body. I won’t show the face to avoid further drama.

One day when I was off from work I invited him over to the house I shared with Morgan, took him up to the third floor and fucked him on the floor. The sex was not all that spectacular.

And I have not fucked Omar again in the more than two-and-a-half years since that happened although we text each other every few months, mostly to flirt or just catch up.

On Friday evening I got a text from Omar saying something upsetting had happened to him that day.

“What happened?” I texted back.

And I got this story. Omar had met Morgan online and the two had decided to hook up. So Omar went to his house. According to Omar, Morgan met him at the door and was so turned on or just plain horny that he got naked in a minute flat.

But Omar wasn’t feeling Morgan and didn’t want to go through with sex. He turned Morgan down and Morgan asked him why.

Instead of just saying he wasn’t physically attracted to him, Omar told Morgan he felt uncomfortable because he had sex in the same house before with a guy he thought was in a relationship with Morgan.

Yep, Hoes ain’t loyal. Omar threw me under the bus.

“Oh no, why did you put me out like that lol,” I texted.

“I got scared. I’m so sorry,” Omar responded.

“That was not cool at all. So you ended up hurting him twice. By rejecting him then saying you were with me.”

“You are right…now I really feel bad,” Omar texted.

Omar said Morgan got pushy and started drilling him with questions, in person and later by cellphone text. Did I fuck Omar or had Omar been fucking me? Did Omar attend any sex parties (I guess Morgan was referring to ones I and Van are are having that are clearly advertised on Adam4Adam for anyone to see).

Omar didn’t respond to the question about what he and I did sexually and told Morgan he didn’t even like going to sex parties.

Omar said he feared if he outright had rejected Morgan the situation would have gotten worse. I didn’t believe him.

“Like he would have gotten violent or something. Please”

“Not what I meant,” Omar answered.

“Next time just say you aren’t feeling a person and walk out. You weren’t a prisoner there.

“Ok. I’m sorry. I know you (are) over it but I wanted to say it again.”

I just couldn’t believe it. Omar is fifty-something years old and couldn’t just walk out of a potentially bad hookup?

“I’m not exactly over it…we are all human. But I don’t think we should communicate again. Take care.”

Prison Love


This middle aged gay black man I know in Baltimore has been a drug counselor for almost two decades. But when he was younger he sold and used drugs and ended up in prison. This is the story he told me about his “prison husband.”

“Martin” was standing outside his cell on the second tier, looking down at the new arrivals at prison. And that’s when he saw “Abdul,” a tall, dark, handsome man who was filing in with the new arrivals.

“We locked eyes and stared at each other and I thought to myself, ‘I’m going to have him,'” said Eric, who was serving time in Maryland State prison for multiple marijuana sale offenses.  “We just had chemistry.”

Before too long Abdul,  who was also in jail for drug sales, would briefly chat with Martin each time he walked by Martin’s cell. This happened several times a day.

One day Abdul asked for help.

“My peeps ain’t sending me no money and I don’t have any funds to buy soap and deodorant and other stuff from the commissary.”

“Don’t worry man. I will get you $20 worth of stuff to get you started. Just pay me back when your folks finally come through,” Martin answered.

Martin had been with women and even had a daughter. But by his late 20’s when he went to prison he had figured out he loved long black dicks and getting fucked way more than pussy.

Martin was a handsome, cocky brown-skinned brother who was built like a brick shit house because he regularly worked out. He had a high, light voice but was masculine so no one in prison suspected he was gay and loved to bottom.

One day he and Abdul showered at the same time.  Abdul eyed Martin’s plump bubble ass and broad chest and leaned closer and said, “You know I’m really attracted to you.”

Martin was a little surprised but so pleased his ass tingled and his long, thin penis grew hard.

Abdul claimed he was straight. Plus he was Muslim and knelt on a carpet and prayed  toward Mecca with the other brothers. He just didn’t seem like the type to stray down the rainbow path.

They got a chance to hook up during Ramadan. Abdul snuck away from the Muslim inmates who were segregated during fasting and made his way to Martin’s cell. Nobody was around..

“Hey Martin I’m so horny for you baby. Please suck my dick.”

Martin looked around to make sure no one was around and knelt at the entrance of his cell and pulled Abdul’s dick put of his prison-issued jeans. It was unusually long and thick and black.

Martin sucked Abdul’s dick with his wet mouth and massaged it with his hands. It was against prison rules for Abdul to be in Martin’s cell so he pretended to lean against the bars and talking to Martin.

Abdul quickly busted a thick load into Martin’s mouth. Martin got up off his knees and went to the toilet, spat the nutt in the bowl and flushed.

Later Abdul and Martin got merits for good behavior and were able to choose cellmates. Of course they picked each other. For the first time they were able to go all the way.

“Abdul cried the first time I gave him some ass he was so grateful,” Martin said.

They did everything together including running a small drug ring in prison. Since Martin worked the commissary he had more freedom to move about and pick up heroin and coke the guards smuggled in.

But Abdul would get high off the drugs instead of selling them and one time Martin had to have his mother send him $200 to pay back an inside supplier who threatened to shank them.

Their prison relationship lasted four years when Martin was released. Martin has been drug free and out of prison for 20 years but Abdul is still serving time.

They continue to correspond and Martin sends Abdul $20 here and there.

Abdul will be released soon and has asked whether he can stay with Martin till he gets on his feet.

But Martin says he is hesitant to reopen that chapter in his life by rekindling the relationship.

We will see if he gets weak for that big prison dick and relents.

My Five Unfulfilled Fantasies

I have slapped men during sex. Spit on them. Bit their nipples. Pissed on them.
I’ve had sex in an outdoor park. On a bathroom floor. In cars.
Threesomes. Check.
Group sex. Done that.
Bathhouses. Been there so many times I have lost count.
So what have I not done sexually that I fantasize about doing? Here’s my five.

# Tying up my partner or having my partner tie me up and have their way with me. Ideally it would be with velvet rope. The thought of having control or giving up control is very tantalizing to me although I have never done it.

Photo courtesy of

Photo courtesy of



# Having a threesome with a hot woman and man at the same time and fucking them both. My ex Morgan and I discussed it since he had never had a woman but it never happened.

Photo courtesy of

Photo courtesy of

# Having a guy be my maid for the day and clean my house naked. The guy in the photo below would be perfect!

Photo courtesy of Pinterest.

Photo courtesy of Pinterest.


# Having sex with a hot Asian guy. I was once in a threesome with a bottom and an Asian top. Dude was muscular and hot and got me thinking — wow, topping one might be sexy. In fact, one of my favorite porn actors now is Koh Masaki from Japan. Unfortunately he died from peritonitis in 2013. RIP.

My favorite Asian porn star Koh Masaki of Japan. Unfortunately he died last year. Photo courtesy of

My favorite Asian porn star Koh Masaki of Japan. Unfortunately he died last year. Photo courtesy of

# I’ve already got down with one of my favorite porn stars who will remain unnamed. But there is another one on my mind. XL. OMG! Have you seen him? Plus XL just graduated college. There is nothing sexier than an intelligent man.

Porn star XL. He shows passion, gives great foreplay and gives and takes dick like a champ. Photo courtesy of

Porn star XL. He shows passion, gives great foreplay and gives and takes dick like a champ. Photo courtesy of

Question: Readers what are your unfulfilled fantasies? Inquiring minds want to know.

Five Years Later…

Fall leaves in Hampden, one of my favorite neighborhoods in Baltimore. Photo courtesy of

Fall leaves in Hampden, one of my favorite neighborhoods in Baltimore. Photo courtesy of

Wow, I launched this blog five years ago. I hadn’t even thought about it but Fall is here and the cool air, shorter days and leaves beginning to turn gold, and brown, and orange and red make me feel nostalgic and introspective.

What a journey. From married and straight to gay with a partner.

Do I have regrets? Yes. I wish I had more time with my kids. I’m sorry I hurt my ex wife. But things are on the mend. I went to a function a week ago, the birthday of a dear family friend who has supported me in this journey, and my son and daughter were there with me. My daughter and I are cool but my son and I are still a estranged.

That day we were cordial. I walked over to the gaggle of young folks and told my son I was proud of him for finishing trade school and getting a job. He smiled and let me take photos of him and his sister together. I will treasure those photos forever. I’m putting a framed copy on my desk at work.

I feel more hopeful. Time does heal all things. Just be patient. Don’t let funky situations with people or jobs or bills stress you out. Trust in God and go to him with your problems and everything will work out in the way it is supposed to..

Wow, I read back parts of blog. You can tell I like sex, eh? I still do and I’m glad I’m hanging “Van,” a guy who shares my joie de vivre.

He is Aries with Aquarius rising. I am Gemini with Aries rising. We are both a mixture of fire sign and air sign. Air makes fires brighter and hotter. So I hope we can do that for each other. It’s been more than a year and a half and we haven’t killed each other yet.

In five years I have visited my first gay bar. Had numerous fuck-buddies, my first serious crush on a dude (remember Oliver? What was I thinking?), and my first serious relationship with Morgan that failed because ultimately openness and honesty were not there.

What’s ahead? I was recently promoted at work and I’m enjoying the new challenge. I’m enjoying my little row house in the ‘hood in Baltimore. I have a lot of work ahead to get it together. I’m trying to pay off bills because I probably have 10 more years of active work life and I don’t want to be a broke old faggot.

Van and I are talking about joining households. We are trying to work out the details of that. What furniture will go where. Who has a better dining room set. My Mom wants to meet him and his Mom wants to meet me so hopefully around the Holidays that will happen.

Readers, thanks for being on this journey with me. Your comments have encouraged me and me laugh, and smile and sometimes made my eyes wet with emotion.

I want to send a special shout out to Raw Leather Daddy, Luckey Star,Trapped Driven, Cogito, Jamari Fox, Damonjay, Fortune Knowles, Derek Perry, The Blog Artist formerly known as…, Tinsel, Worst_1_Yet, Kahicks, Cool Top, Martin, sc8709, Roger Poladapoulous, Prince, Musique’s Poetry, Rob, Iam Thegayte-keeper, the list goes on and on please forgive me if I missed you.

Some of you guys I have met and hung with, others I have talked with on the phone and yet others I only correspond with through this blog. But know I love you and hope you continue to share a part of this journey with me.

God Bless, Immanuel

The Body Nazis

“Andy” asked to come to one of my and Van’s sex parties and I said, “Sure, no problem.”

“Do you have a door policy?,” he texted.


“I mean do you only let in muscular or in-shape guys?”

“No man,” I texted back. “Van and I let in all types because there is something for everybody.”

Andy showed up. He was a tall, slightly heavy, dark-skinned bottom. About 220 pounds. His underwear was not particularly sexy and his looks were average.

But homeboy turned the party out. Within 20 minutes Andy was on his knees sucking dick and he gave the best blow-job I have had in awhile (you know I had to sample). He even pulled out some oil and gave guys massages, which turned him on I heard.

“Man I think I’m falling in love,” one of my friend’s said while Andy was on his knees eating and slurping on his uncut, red dick like a fried chicken leg from Popeyes. “Can I marry you?”

Andy sent Van and I a kind thank-you note on Adam4Adam a week after the party, thanking us for letting him in. He said at many parties the “Body Nazis”  at the door turn him away because he doesn’t have the “look.” He is not muscular, or handsome, or light skinned, or have six-pack abs or a nine-inch peter.

Sometimes I really feel for heavier gay men who are judged more for their appearance. Photo courtesy of

Sometimes I really feel for heavier gay men who are judged more for their appearance. Photo courtesy of

Now that I am having sex parties I am running into this Body Nazi attitude a lot, but from guests. The things people say — and I mean mature, middle aged black gay men — astound me with their insensitivity, meanness, selfishness, and egotism.

For instance there is a bottom who moved here from the South for a job. He is brown-skinned and handsome but not really all that.

But when I invited him to the party he insisted all the guests be tall, in-shape, with good size dicks or he wasn’t coming. I replied, “Well, thanks for asking but I guess we won’t be seeing you.”

“Good, I don’t want to hang around a bunch of fat, nasty, stinky niggers anyway.”

I was stunned. I fucked this dude one time and he was forever sweating me to come back. I took what he said personally because he insulted some of my friends who come to my parties without even meeting them. Some of them are heavy or have bellies. But trust and believe they can throw some good sex.

“So I’m fat and nasty now?” I responded.

“Nah baby, sorry. I want another one-on-one with you. Just us two in bed for a few hours.”

I will NEVER fuck him again.

Van and my parties are becoming popular — I mean folks call and text to say thanks for hosting such a welcoming and nice party. One of them was this muscular versatile dude who I heard busted a nutt six times in one night! And he was getting fucked by dudes who were no way near as buff as him, so obviously he wasn’t a Body Nazi.

I have to be absolutely honest. I do not like morbidly obese men. Give me a sexy football player dude weighing about two fifty and a little belly and we can roll. Still this Body Nazism among gay men troubles me. I mean it’s so superficial. There is more to a man than his looks or dick size.

But everywhere you look — in gay newspapers, magazines, pornography etc., blogs etc. this same image is pushed at us. A 20-something gay man with no body fat and abs and a nice package in his underwear. Very few people aged 25 and older look like that! It’s a fantasy.

Most of the men I roll with are grown and fully established in their careers. Don’t you think by now they would realize that and stop judging people for the way God made them?



How Tommie and David have stayed together for almost 50 Years

This is Tommie today. Told you he was hot.

This is Tommie today. Told you he was hot.

Tommie was just a 17-year-old black kid growing up in Galveston, Texas when he met David in a cruisy public bathroom near the beach one summer day in 1968.

David, who was white and 33 years old, was home visiting his parents. Tommie and David were so struck with each they were rarely separated during David’s two-week visit.

“You can meet good people in some of the lowest places,” Tommie said with a chuckle.

After Tommie graduated high school he ended up attending college in Washington, D.C. where he could be with David. They have been together for 46 years and were officially married last July in Rockville in Maryland, one of a dozen or so states where gay marriage is legal. They split their time between Maryland and Texas.

What is the secret to their long relationship?

Tommie said as the 1970s came their relationship developed into an open one. They  played sexually with others together and apart.

In fact, back in the day David would rent a beach house in Rehoboth, Delaware, which is still a very gay-friendly resort town, and have orgies by the beach.Tommie was also bisexual and was fucking women and playing with men.

Tommie says gay men should not model their relationships on straight couples and straight society, which stresses monogamy. Men are sexual, and gay partners should give each other the freedom to express it.

And the straight monogamous model isn’t working and probably never has, he said. Just watch an episode of “Jerry Springer” or “Maury,” Tommy said.

Every gay couple Tommie knows who tried to enforce monogamy on each other ended up breaking up over jealousy or cheating, he said. Tommie said most of these relationships would have probably survived if the partners had negotiated open relationships.

David is confined to a wheelchair and is almost 80 but still enjoys watching Tommie get fucked. And believe me Tommie is very attractive for a 63-year-old.

“David and I knew we loved sex and we knew we loved each other,” Tommie said. “And we never confused love and sex.”

I interviewed Tommie by phone. Tommie and David are the real first names of the couple but they did not wish to use their last names.

The Curse of the Big Dick

“Eli” has a big dick. A mean a fat, uncut python that swings between his slender legs like a pendulum of flesh.

For weeks he hit me up. But I wasn’t feeling it. First of all he is 25 years old. I have kids a little younger than he. And then there is that other little thing — his profile says he is a top.

But he was insistent. So insistent that he showed up one Saturday evening while my partner “Van” and I were about to watch Inyanla: Fix My Life on OWN. You know, that episode about that trifling dude with 34 kids by 17 women.

“Hey Eli, why did you show up,” I asked. “I gave you the address but I didn’t expect you to just come over.”

“I was in the area and was just dropping by.”

So we talked to him awhile. He is in college and aspiring to be a lawyer, but working retail at the mall to make ends meet. Still at home with his family in Ellicott City, a sleepy suburban hamlet to the west of Baltimore.

Eli's dick. Told you it was big.

Eli’s dick. Told you it was big.

I thought he wanted to tag team Van with me but surprise, surprise. Van and I ended up fucking him for almost two hours in every position you could name. Doggy style, missionary, cowgirl, spooning. It was like he couldn’t get enough of our dicks.

“Oooh, y’all are going to really get me liking dick,” he moaned.

Van is versatile and prefers fucking guys smaller and younger than he is. So I knew Eli, who is slender and has pecan brown skin and eyelashes so long they curl, was his type.

After everyone blew that nutt we sat around relaxing. I think we even fed him. And Eli explained why he was so dick hungry.

“I have a big dick so when I have sex with guys they automatically want to get fucked,” he said. “But sometimes I want to get done. So that’s why I let you fuck me like that.”

I could sympathize. When you swing a big dick everybody just wants to ride it. Heck, sometimes tops want to do something different, too.