Fuck me in front of my girlfriend


So this black guy hits me up online saying he wants to get fucked. But with a twist.

“I want you to fuck me with my girlfriend there.”

“Oh you want me to fuck her too?”

“No she just wants to watch and play with her pussy.”

It takes all types to make the world go round.

I call him. He sounds very masculine and professional. 

He then texts me a pic  of them. He is a dark-skinned chocolate brother obviously older than her, a slender brunette  who looks Italian.

He then shows me a pic of his ass. Not bad.

I have to admit I’m tempted.

Why I’m Thankful 



Happy Thanksgiving blog readers!

I sat down and thought, “Wow I have so much to be thankful for. Here is a short list:

  1. A God who loves me no matter what despite my many imperfections.
  2. A restored relationship with my children.
  3. A good man.
  4. Good health and good doctors to keep it that way.
  5. A good job.
  6. A roof over my head.
  7. A boatload of folks who for some reason still think I’m sexy.
  8. Supportive family and friends, especially Mom.
  9. A crew of blog readers who take time to read about my life and comment with good advice and funny words that make smile.

Trapped with Her…Driven to Him is back



One of my favorite bloggers, “Trapped with Her…Driven to Him,” is back!

We share many similarities. Men who were formerly married to women and had kids who slipped to the other side of the rainbow.

Except this Blogger is on the bisexual end of the spectrum, which is a whole different world.

His writing is always honest, insightful, superb and sometimes just plain funny.

Read his past entries and follow his new adventures!

12 Reasons Gay Men Don’t Get Sex or Relationships 


1. You are too picky. I’m sure you don’t look like a super model. So why do you insist your mate be perfect?

2. You are hanging with the wrong crowd. Break away from the pack – they could be cock blocking.

3. Stop hanging out in the same bars and clubs. The same folks tend to hang in the same places.

4. You aren’t being honest with yourself. Come on. You know you really like bottoming. So why you advertising as a top? You will just frustrate yourself and your potential partner.

5. You aren’t as cute as you think. Perhaps a better diet and a modest exercise routine or better fitting clothes would help.

6. You aren’t as fabulous as you think. Being trendy works in certain circles but looking too edgy can be a turnoff. 

7. You are too negative. You complain about the food in restaurants.The music at the club is too loud. Or the people at the bar in your opinion are ugly. You say insulting things about people or gossip. Or you throw a forest of shade in public. Avoid this…people are listening and you are turning off potential lovers without even knowing it.

8. You don’t have a plan. Being aimless and not having a passion for something is not sexy. 

9. You are not as successful as you think. Stop bragging about what you own and how much you earn. Who gives a fuck? And kindness and respect and love are free.

10. Good hygiene and dental care go a long way. And be sure public spaces in your home are neat. Nobody likes a nasty brother.

11. You depend too much on drugs or alcohol to be social. Nobody likes a druggie or alcoholic. Well, let me rephrase that. They will fuck you and use you but not keep you.

12. You are crazy. Don’t let unresolved trauma or internalized homophobia hold you back. Seek help from a therapist, social worker or trusted clergyman.

The Man who liked to get fisted…and his Wife


The Man who liked to get fisted showed up at one of the very first sex parties my partner “Van” and I held.

He was a snack food marketing professional from Chicago who was in Washington, D.C. on business. The Man had a hectic week and wanted to blow off steam by romping around my house naked with 40-odd other men.

He knocked on the door and I answered. Ummm. Handsome. And well muscled because he worked out almost every day.

And a freak.

He soon hooked up with “Rodney,” a 29-year-old , tall chocolate brother with a beautiful gap-toothed smile. Van and I call “Rodney” our gay nephew because he likes to come over and just hang out with us and talk about life.

The Man bent over and asked Rodney to lube up his big right hand and push it up his ass. Rodney just grinned and did what he was asked. And The Man was soon jacking off and cumming with Rodney’s hand far up his lower intestines.

fisting2

Photo courtesy of lucasentertainment.com.

 

The experience was so good that The Man got Rodney’s number and they communicated regularly.

“You should come out to Chicago, Rodney,” he said. “Sometimes I get six or seven guys to run a train on me and fuck this muscled ass all night.”

“I can buy your airfare and put you up in a hotel and come over and you can fuck me all weekend.”

Well one day Rodney texted The Man an innocent “Good Morning” and got a surprise when The Man’s wife texted him back. He didn’t even know The Man was married.

“Who are you?” she asked.

Before he knew it she had called him and they were deep in conversation. She just rambled on and on like she had to get shit off her chest.

“My husband is getting all these calls and texts from men. What the hell is going on? They keep texting him, ‘Do you want to get up?'”

“What does that mean? Does it mean they want to hang out or is my husband gay?”

“And one time he was taking a shower and bent over to dry his feet and I noticed his asshole was all puckered out and swollen — it was disgusting. I asked him what had happened but he said he got a hernia from weightlifting at the gym.”

fisting1.jpeg

Photo courtesy of fistingcentral.com.

Rodney has a baby face and although he is pushing 30 still looks like a teenager. But he can lie like an old pro.

“Oh, I don’t know anything about your husband being gay. I just graduated from Morgan State with a degree in marketing and he was my mentor. I call him from time to time to get career advice.”

She seemed to be satisfied with that answer and after awhile said goodbye.

But the next day The Man called Rodney mad as a hornet.

“How the fuck dare you out me to my wife? You faggots can’t keep your mouths shut.”

He went on and on, not letting Rodney get in a word. But finally Rodney managed to do so.

“Look man, you can just shut the fuck up with that bullshit. I didn’t tell your wife shit. I think she figured it out. She said she noticed all these calls and texts coming in.”

And Rodney quickly off the phone. But a few weeks later he remembered how good that muscle ass was and texted The Man back.

The cellphone number was disconnected.

 

 

It’s Messy in the Middle


threemen

There was no way I was going to get into the middle of the messy relationship with Clive and his boyfriend.

I dated “Clive” briefly when I first moved to Baltimore three years ago. Nice enough fellow but I had to drop him with a quickness.

Here is why. We weren’t dating a month and he was already talking about marriage and picking out spots for the reception.

“Man, pump your brakes. We don’t even really know each other,” I said. “Besides you have already been married three times — twice to women and once to a man. I don’t want to be another link on your chain.”

You see Clive is one of those gay men who is into being in a relationship. They don’t give a fuck who it is as long as they can brag to others “I got a man.” It gives their fragile egos a boost, I suppose.

So I moved on and Clive soon started dating this tall, husky, handsome dark-skinned man from South Carolina. Within weeks they had moved in together and eventually got a stylish, newly renovated apartment in a rowhouse in Baltimore’s up-and-coming Bolton Hill neighborhood.

Yeah, Clive moves fast when he wants to have a boyfriend.

But the relationship wasn’t six months old before Clive was hitting me up for sex.

“I miss that big black dick — this nigger ain’t hitting this ass right like you did.”

“You should see his dick Immanuel — it’s no bigger than my pinky finger when it’s hard. I ain’t feeling shit.”

“He works weekends and as soon as he leaves I got this big dick trade boy that lives up the block come over and set me up right.”

What Clive says makes me sick. His guy is really nice although a bit passive and clueless. I know because my partner “Van” and I have socialized with them.

“Clive, you knew his dick was small when you dated him. So why did you get into a relationship with a person you know wasn’t going to satisfy you?”

Clive didn’t respond. But I already knew the answer.

Clive has a big, pretty penis and claims he is a verse top. But he is really a bottom. His poor dude probably thought he was going to get that dick all the time and Clive flipped the script on him.

So now they were two bottoms “bumping pussies.”

Why aren’t men honest about what they want sexually? Why do they rush into relationships that end up failing because they weren’t open and up front at the start?

Well, guess what? Friday morning I was on Jack’d and got hit up on by a profile I had never seen before.

“Hey, can I come through. I need some good dick,” the man texted.

“Open your private so I can see you,” I texted back.

I looked at the photo. It was a dark-skinned, handsome, corn-fed looking brother. Ummm, he looks familiar. What? Well I’ll be damned. It was Clive’s partner. He was trying to get dick outside the relationship too!

I could have been messy. Clive and I are still friendly and I could have informed him what his partner is up too. Or I could have told Clive’s clueless partner, “Hey, your boy is trying to get my dick too!”

One buddy even suggested I invite them both over to fuck at the same time and sit back and watch the surprise and the fireworks.

Instead I did the right thing. Or at least what I think is the right thing.

“Hey man,” I texted Clive’s boyfriend. “I know your boyfriend and I think it would be awkward for me to mess with you so let’s act like this didn’t happen.”

“Oh, okay,” he responded.

And that was that.

We gonna be alright…


trumpprotest

Trump protest on 5th Avenue in New York City. Photo courtesy of Voice of America.

Yeah, Trump’s victory depressed me for a day or two.

But I’m over that shit now. Life goes on and I’m going to live it. We are gonna be alright.

Besides, this is just history repeating itself.

Whenever Blacks and other oppressed groups make progress there is a backlash from white people who feel threatened.

The same thing happened after the Civil War and Reconstruction. Blacks were making progress too quickly so white folks had to introduce segregation to put us back in our place.

After the Civil Rights victories of the 1960s whites again had to put us back in our “place.” So for years blacks have been oppressed by the prison-industrial complex, the War on Drugs and on and on.

Then the nation elected a mixed race president with a Black wife and children not once but twice. And was about to bring a woman into power. And had given gay people more rights than they ever had before.

There was no way insecure white males were going to have that. Even their women sided with them.

So America’s history has always been two steps forward and one and half steps back. And two steps forward, and one and half steps back. Like a sick kind of waltz.

So now we have Trump. A man who has filed bankruptcy again and again. Who refuses to show his tax returns. Who has been married three times (why was the moral majority silent on this?). Who ran a campaign based on hate and was endorsed by the KKK. Who has never held elective office before. Who has a homophobic vice president who despite all scientific evidence to the contrary believes you can use psychological therapy to make gay folks straight.

Do you think such an unqualified Black, or Hispanic or female would have gotten elected. This is white male privilege writ large.

But don’t worry. We will get through this.

When he comes for our health care coverage, a woman’s right to control her body and health, your same-sex marriage rights, brings back stop and frisk to harass African Americans, and on and on you are going to see people rise up.

There are already protests popping up around the nation.

Too bad folks didn’t rise up, swallow their dislike or indifference for Hillary Clinton, and go to the polls and vote for the best candidate. It might have avoided all the mess that is to come.

But better late than never.