You ever wake up with a hard on? I did but fortunately I had a place for it to go. The guy i date, “Van,” said he was happy to take it on. So I slid on the condom and let nature take its course. Enjoy the pics:
I ride the MARC train from Baltimore to work in DC Monday through Friday.
And every day I see him. A handsome, brown-skinned, young blue collar dude dressed in a dark blue jumper with reflective stripes.
His lips are perfect. His eyes are deep wells of warm brown. His body slender.
I wonder does he work on the road, in a warehouse or as a custodian. He always gets off the train in a suburban office park halfway between D.C. and Baltimore.
Several times during the trip we lock eyes and stare at each other. He always seems to sit facing me. We break the stare and then a few minutes later repeat the pas de deux.
Sometimes he leans back, spreads his legs and swings one leg from side to side.
I know what he is doing. I used to masturbate that way back in high school, using the friction of the fabric against my dick to get a hard on.
Is he cruising me? Or is this just my gay imagination? We never speak or even nod hello so I will likely never know.
(I took a photo of his feet while he was swinging that leg.)
Men get turned on by visuals. A round, firm booty straining dress slacks. A dick bulge stretching the crotch on some well fitted jeans.
A smile. Nice eyes. The list goes on and on.
That is why it is important you put your best foot forward when you post your photo on hookup websites such as Jack’d and Manhunt.
It’s not hard to take a flattering photo these days. Everyone has a smart phones equipped with metapixel cameras, flashes and editing tools.
That is why it surprises me that guys put such tasteless photos online. Really there is a lot of shit out there.
So I asked my friends what turned them off when they looked at personal photos on gay hookup websites and apps. Here is what they said:
BLURRY PHOTOS OR OBVIOUSLY OLD PHOTOS: See this dude. He hit me up and came over. I had to send him home. He claimed he was 38 but the blurred photo hid the truth. He was probably about 60 years old and looked sick. I mean dude was coughing like he had consumption with a side of pneumonia. I sent him home. I learned an important lesson that my friends agree on. Folks use blurred photos to hide how they really look. I don’t mind older men — hell I’m middle aged myself. But don’t false advertise.
ASS SHOTS: To me there is nothing sexy about spread ass cheeks in a photo. Not all asses are cute. And not all assholes are pretty. There are so many more tasteful ways to show off your ass.
BATHROOM SHOTS: I know. It’s easy to take a selfie in a big bathroom mirror. But hey bathrooms are not sexy. Especially bathrooms that are not clean. And toilets are for shitting and pissing in — not for a prop. Do yourself a favor. Get a trusted friend to take provocative photos for you but stay out of the bathroom.
BELLY HIDERS: Overweight dudes will often lay on their stomach and put their asses in the air. Eight times out of 10 they are hiding a beer belly.
BAD CLOTHES: I know. He probably thought this ensemble was cute. I’m hoping he was at a Tarzan-themed Halloween Party. Look folks, some advice. I know gay guys are trendsetters. But the photos on your personal ads should not be where you set a trend.
CAMERA BLOCKING: Look, there are ways to take shots and not get the camera in it (try the doggy view approach by putting the camera below your waist and aiming up). Or get a friend to take the photos for you.
FAMILY AND FRIENDS: Do not put your family or friends in photos on websites you are using to get dick or ass. I’ve even seen guys pose with nieces, nephews or even their children, like that will make them more attractive. It’s tacky to do that, even if you have the person’s permission.
MULTIPLE FACESHOTS: Okay, we know how you look. Why do we need four or five or six or eight photos of you in different outfits? Folks who do this come across as being stuck on themselves. Just pick one good one that stands out and best represents you.
DRUG USE: Hey, I don’t knock weed smokers. You do you. But smoking weed is a recreational activity, not a lifestyle you need to advertise through photos.
JUNKY ROOMS, CLUTTER: What you see in a person’s photo can tell you alot about them. Boxes piled up. Shoes thrown around. This youngun has crotchet pillows and teddy bears on his bed. Not a sexy look brother.
Q: Readers what turns you off and on about photos in personal ads?
He had been hitting me up for months on Adam4Adam– this six-foot-six, 225-pound former college football player in his 30′s.
“I’m a top and you say you are a top, so what are you planning on doing,” I would ask him.
“Hey, I just like to freak man,” he would say.
“Open your private picture.”
He did and was very handsome, all brown-skinned and square-jawed. But weeks went by and nothing happened. Well at least not until today.
It is still snowing here, all businesses closed, so I am off work. “Van,” a guy that I date, decided to ride out the storm with me. He is a cool dude — we enjoy playing with others but turn the bedroom into the 4th of July when it’s just us two.
I went online and football player hit me up so we asked him over for a threesome.
He was so big it seemed he could barely fit up the narrow staircase to my bedroom. A little belly but his body was well proportioned.
I got busy eating out Van’s high, tight little dark ass while the football player sat at the foot of the bed and watched, stroking his thick dick. Occasionally he would take off an article of clothing but he still had on his white cotton T-shirt and socks.
“Are you going to join us?”
“Yeah, but I’m liking what I’m seeing.”
Eventually we got down to taking turns fucking Van, who moaned with appreciation.
“I want to see him ride your dick,” football player said.
“Sure we do that all the time,” I said, laughing. Van chuckled, too.
I lay on my back and Van climbed onboard and rode me, his tall slender body bobbing up and down. After awhile he stopped and went to the bathroom.
That’s when football player leaned over and whispered in my ear.
“I want you to fuck the shit out of me. But I’m shy and don’t like doing that in front of other people.”
“Soooo, that’s why this “top” has been hitting me up for months,” I thought.
“Oh, so you want to come back and get fucked,” I answered.
“Nah, we can do it now.”
It was a little odd fucking a dude who looked like Ray Lewis of the Baltimore Ravens. He was four inches taller than me but had me by at least 25 pounds. But dude did have a phat ass.
I started by fucking football player from behind while he fucked Van missionary style.
“Go slow, take it easy. Owww,” he said as I eased it in.
But then the freak started coming in him. I swear his deep voice got a half octave higher.
“Ohhh, shit. Damn. That feels good.”
Van got so turned on he busted a nutt all over his stomach and went back to the bathroom to clean up.
While he was gone I made football player lay on his back and I stood standing by the bed and did him missionary style. By now Van had come back in the room. He went back and forth nibbling on football’s players nipples and mine.
Then I fucked Van a little more and lay on my back and jacked off a thick, creamy snow day nutt.
Football player took some pics and videos with his phone. Here is a shot of me after shooting.
Hey I’m late to write on this but being a gay father I had to say something.
A week ago a straight female friend of mine named “Arlette” posted on Facebook the photos of two black men in the bathroom combing their daughter’s hair.
“Isn’t it great to see black fathers doing this,” she innocently said.
Blame it on gaydar but I looked at the photo and immediately knew Kordale and Kaleb were gay fathers. It didn’t take long for my straight friends on Facebook to catch on. In minutes nasty comments were flying.
“There is something wrong with that,” one person wrote.
“That’s just wrong.”
“That is indecent. What men go around without shirts like that with their children”
Without shirts? Come on now. Really. When my mother was going through her hot flashes she walked around with her breasts out fanning them and dared anybody to say some shit.
Within hours Arlette took the post down. But by then the photos of Kordale and Kaleb had spread across the Internetosphere. Like on my Facebook page many of the comments were nasty and downright ignorant.
Many straight folks don’t realize it but LGBT folks have been raising children for centuries. I know several LGBT men and women who are raising children and even grandchildren and doing very well at it, thank you very much. And I know several other black gay men who are helping support nieces and nephews, even sending them to college.
But I don’t have to just go by my own anecdotal evidence. The Census Bureau found that one out of four gay couples is raising children.
Studies from several psychological and social work organizations have long said children raised in loving LGBT homes are just as well adjusted as other children. And one argument for legalizing same-sex marriage is that these children need to enjoy the same benefits and rights as the children of married straight couples.
Ironically, most LGBT families that are raising children are in the South in conservative states that have fought hardest against gay marriage. In fact, Kordale and Kaleb live in Georgia.
I wish Kordale and Kaleb and their beautiful children nothing but happiness and success. Thanks for showing that black gay men can form strong families and look good while doing it. There are thousands more Kordales and Kalebs out there. I hope one day more of their stories will be told.
A couple of weeks ago I hosted a card and games party at my place in Baltimore. Just something to bring friends together after the holiday bustle died down and have some fun on a long winter’s night.
A mix of about 15 to 20 guys. From their late 20s to late 50s. Short, tall, built and not so built.
One of the guys I invited was a muscular, brown-skinned, masculine bottom named “Daniel.” Daniel has the body of Adonis and an outrageous booty. How do I know? I’ve sampled it myself but for the past few years I have kept it on the friendship tip because he has a great physique but not much of a personality beyond that.
Some of the guys went to my TV room upstairs to watch the NFL playoffs. And Daniel followed them up.
But wouldn’t you know all he did was pull out his cellphone and start trolling Jack’d and Adam4Adam, completely forgetting guys that were around him.
Another buddy of mine “Byron” came downstairs walked over to me.
“That guy upstairs is really rude. He is barely talking at all and had the nerve to be on a hookup app. I have Jack’d on my phone too and wouldn’t you know he hit me up and asked was I at the party. I didn’t answer because that’s weird.”
“Wow, and all these guys in here why would he have to do that?” I asked Byron.
I walked up to Daniel and invited him to play a game of Spades, or perhaps join us in Dominoes or a round of Taboo.
“I’m not very good at cards man,” he said.
“Are you shy?”
“Yeah, a little.”
But yet he could go online and troll for sex. Has technology — our smartphones and tablets and hookup apps and websites — taken away our skills and meeting men in real life? Older gay men I know say they miss the days when guys mingled in real-life bars and discos or had to go to bookstores to get hookups.
Technology has reduced us to just a dick or a piece of ass, they say.
Daniel really missed out — he likely went home without getting one number. Yet three couples met at my party and went on subsequent dates to the movies, breakfast dinner and yes some sex too. And they didn’t need an app to do it.
“Gerald” and I chatted for days online but finally agreed to meet at the Au Bon Pain in Washington D.C.’s cavernous Union Station.
I sat sipping my coffee and watched as he approached. A very tall, angular, brown-skinned black man in a well cut gray suit and conservative tie. He looked like a bank president, or the head of a multinational corporation, or maybe an undertaker.
He seemed pleased that I looked so normal. That I fit in. That I wasn’t noticeably gay and feminine to all the travelers around us rushing to hop on the Metro, or the MARC commuter train toward Baltimore, or take the Amtrak to New York City and Boston or Richmond.
“Look, I’m married and discreet and careful about who I hook up with,” he said. “Some gay people are so messy.”
He gave me his story. He had been messing with guys since college but met a woman he liked and decided to marry and raise kids. But he fell back into old habits.
One night he was working late miles from home and had drinks with colleagues. One of his coworkers, a handsome guy named “Timothy,” suggested he spend the night at his home a few miles away rather than risk a DUI. So Gerald called his wife and got the okay, went home with Timothy, hopped in his bed, and they ended up sexing each other all night.
Gerald had always thought Timothy might play around and all the alcohol that night had only lubricated the situation, no pun intended.
Gerald is a business consultant and can only play with men while going to and from assignments or when he goes to the gym. Against my better judgment I agreed to hook up with him — for me the Daddy types who appear all conservative and uptight in public but are freaks in bed are a major turn-on.
Like me he lives in Baltimore but commutes regularly to D.C. He dropped by my home one humid afternoon in late summer when I happened to be waiting on the cable guy. The lovemaking was sweet — he was so thirsty for some male-on-male action anything I did seemed to arouse him immensely.
A kiss on the neck. A nibble on his nipples. My tongue flickering against his thighs and over to his scrotum.
He wanted me to fuck him but he was so tight that didn’t work. So we jacked off until we both spurted some nutt and I sent him on his way.
A few weeks later he came by again, this time using the excuse he was going to the gym to get away from his wife.
He was more aggressive this time. He dove between my legs and sucked my dick and ate my ass so well that I got so relaxed and pleasured it felt like I was floating in a hot bath. Gerald was just that good.
“How old are you,” I asked him after we finished. “You are in your 50′s? Right?”
He looked sheepish and cast his eyes down.
“Immanuel, I’m 65 years old.”
His body still looked good and his thick, uncut dick still got so hard.
“Wow. You give me hope for the future.”
Summer waned and the days grew crisp as fall began to paint the leaves on the oak trees on my block a bright, mustard yellow and burnt orange .
Gerald texted or called. I can’t remember.
“My wife had a stroke and I had to put her in a nursing home. It was a mild stroke but she has to take rehabilitation so she will not be home for a few weeks.”
I was genuinely concerned. I knew he loved his wife. He said although he preferred sex with men he would never leave her because their bond was strong.
“I’m so sorry man. I hope things work out.”
But then he said something that rattled me.
“My house is empty for a few weeks. It will be like I’m a bachelor again. Why don’t you come and spend the night. I would do anything to spend the night with you. I find you so hot Immanuel you have no idea.”
The thought of sexing Gerald in the same bed or same house he shared with his wife left me cold. My paternal grandmother had a stroke when she was in her 80′s. I knew what a struggle it would be for his wife to regain her speech and mobility. Freaking in her house would be so…disrespectful.
Mind you I did some dirty shit too when I was married (just read my older blog entries from 2009 and 2010 for evidence). And I was kicking it with a married dude. I was in no shape to judge Gerald. But I just…couldn’t.
“Look I will be house sitting for a friend in D.C. for the month of October so I won’t be in Baltimore much. And besides I really do not feel comfortable coming to your house.”
“Okay Immanuel, maybe we can work something out before she comes back home.”
“Sure, Gerald. Yeah. Sure.”
It’s been months since I have seen Gerald although we correspond sometimes on Adam4Adam. I think, that could have been me in 10 or 15 years. And old, down-low gay man still slipping out from wife for a few hours so he could be who he really was. And then go back home and play the dutiful husband, father and grandfather.
The thought of this at turns makes me feel profoundly sad about the situation Gerald is in, grateful and proud I struck out into the gay world, or regretful that I am no longer a (straight) family man. Maybe one day I will settle down and just have one feeling about Gerald.