A Threesome and Lemon Cake



Yesterday I had no intention of hooking up but I went on a gay hookup Web site I frequent to check emails and chat with friends.

That is how “Jake” and “Phil,” a professional black gay couple who like to play sexually together, found me.

“Come over,” Jake emailed me. “I promise you will have a good time.”

It was the crack of dawn and the sky was still gray. They were looking for a threesome this early, I thought?

“Look, Jake. It’s too early. Maybe I can make an excuse to get out later and visit you guys,” I emailed back. Then I got on the phone and we talked. Jake had a pleasant, melodious voice but talked a little too fast. I could hear that eager, edgy tone in his voice. Yep, he was horny.

I still didn’t really feel like a threesome. But later in the early afternoon I noticed Jake had called my cellphone twice. “Damn, didn’t he find another dude to fuck his boy?,” I wondered.

I called. Jake said he had arranged meetings with two other dudes but when they arrived they were too fat or unattractive. So Jake and Phil had sent them packing. They still wanted me. Okay, I was up for the challenge, I said.

Jake and Phil live in a high-rise building at the center of our metropolitan area. It is small but tastefully decorated and cozy. Phil met me in the lobby — a light-skinned dude with a baby face and light-brown eyes the shade of a new penny. A little plump but very alright.

I could tell I met his qualifications. But I was a little nervous. I had driven more than a half hour to get there, hitting a traffic jam at one point. And they seemed like a picky couple. Going up in the elevator Jake had even said so. Would the sex be a flop?

I was greeted at the door by their small, terrier-like dog. I scooped him up and started petting and baby talking him. I love animals and have had dogs since I was three years old. Phil was sitting in the living room on a leather bench under a big flat screen television, sipping an icy drink and sizing me up.

Jake didn’t lie. Phil was handsome and they made an attractive couple. Phil has chocolatety brown skin and neatly trimmed shadow beard and mustache. And sexy curved lips.

They offer me a drink but I’m not a drinker. Plus my time is short so I get things started. I strip down in the middle of the living room floor. I push Phil back on the leather bench he is sitting on and lick his nipples. He moaned appreciatively. Then I pushed back his legs and started lapping and licking his ass.

The dog starts barking — I guess because he thinks I am attacking his masters. Jake scooped him up, puts him in the bedroom, and closes the door. I hear his muffled barks coming from the other side but soon he quiets down.

Then the three of us play together in the darkened living room. Licking each other’s nipples, caressing each other. I direct my attention from one to another. It takes my dick a little long to get hard because I am still a little edgy. When you threesome with committed gay couples you have to be respectful of boundaries. They are a unit and you are just an accessory.

So I sometimes pause and ask Jake’s permission to kiss his boy or eat his man’s ass. I think the fact he is directing some of the action and being a voyeur excites him. Jake grins from from ear to ear.

I get more comfortable and as I do my dick gets stiff. Jake and Phil size it up. “Phil, feel how long that is,” Jake orders his lover as they sit on either side of me on the sofa, taking turns masturbating my long dick.

Jake slides on a condom and lubes me up, getting me ready to fuck his boy. Eventually I put Phil in a doggy style position on the leather sofa, his face facing the wall. I slide my dick in and start pounding. Phil moans and moans. It sounds like music to my ears and I thrust harder.

Jake sits on the sofa, jerking his dick and watching. He encourages me to fuck his lover harder and leans over and grabs my ass and pushes my dick deeper into Phil to make the point. Phil continues to moan. His ass feels just right on my dick. Not too tight and not too loose.

Then Jake begins to finger my ass and rub his body against me from behind. He had already asked me whether I like to get fucked but I told him I tried that and do not like it. So he doesn’t force the issue of fucking me.

We play for an hour but nobody cums. Phil and Jake have been sexing since early Saturday morning and have busted plenty of nutt. Still they seem to enjoy me and I enjoy them. They compliment my body and big dick and marvel that I look so good and fit for my age.

I read their palms (a hobby of mine) and they are surprised at my accuracy. “I guess I am a little psychic,” I say.

We talk and we play a little more. It’s like a cocktail party with sex for hors d’oeuvres. Jake is sitting in a chair and I suck his nipples a bit and lick and rub my teeth over his closely shaved head, an erotic technique I learned from a Barbadian brother. It sends Jake into esctasy. Then I go back over to Phil and eat his dark bubble ass some more.

We shower together, rubbing and soaping each other down. Then I must leave. I parked at a meter and time is short. Phil offered me a slice of glazed lemon cake he made. It was good — lemon is one of my favorite cakes. I try to talk to them and eat it at the same time and crumbs fall on the floor. I apologize. “Don’t worry, I’ll pick that up ” Phil says, smiling.

They impress me. You can tell they are firmly committed to each other. They give each other space to play sexually with others. You will not find that often in heterosexual couples. Women usually like to be a man’s one and only sex object. In the gay world, sex is often just a form of social bonding. You can sex a man one time when you meet and it turns into a nonsexual, friendly relationship. Sex was just an icebreaker.

I leave them with cake crumbs on my lips and wondering whether, after I am out I could form a relationship with a dude like Jake and Phil have with each other.

If You Don’t Read Anything Else…Read Jamari Fox’s Blog


I am a top, so my perspective on the down-low and gay culture comes from a decidedly top perspective (for those who don’t know, a top is usually the one who does the fucking.)

But I never understood some of the bullshit bottoms go through until I started reading Jamari Fox’s blog (http://insidejamarifox.wordpress.com/). Jamari is a masculine bottom who lives in a large metropolitan city.

His writing is skillful, ironic, amusing, sad, bitter, poetic…all that shit. He talks about all the bullshit bottoms face. Guys who come by and fuck once and don’t call back. Dudes who claim they are masculine and show up at you door acting sweeter than a licorice stick. And the pitfalls of online hookup sites — he beat me to the punch on that by two weeks!

Jamai said he follows me and asked me for advice. Jamari just keep doing what you are doing! Your blog is deep and it comes straight from the heart! Long as you do that you’ll be fine.

Bad Sex. Good Sex



Okay, in the down-low world all that glitters is not gold. Something that looks good may not be all that.

Yesterday I hooked up with “Bernard.” We last hooked up two years ago. Just a little bumping and grinding. Bernard was married then but he left his wife and child a year ago, partly because he really likes the dick and wants to be his true self.

So I was really interested in quizzing him about his new life. How he was maneuvering on the other side of the fence. Plus Bernard is an amateur body-building, ex-military dude with a tight body, six-pack abs and a high bubble-butt. Yeah, I could fuck that.

But the sex was just so-so. You see, I realized Bernard is all about himself.

“Eat my ass,” he said. So I got to work. He squatted over my face so I could look up at his tight ass while I licked. The he lay on his back with his legs splayed so I could push my tongue in so more. I massaged him. Caressed him. Then I got back to eating that ass again. It went on for more than an hour.

“Damn, I needed a break like this,” said Bernard, who was off from work.

But what did I get? Negro didn’t suck dick. I had to ask him to lick my nipples, which he did not do for very long. And when it came time to fuck?

“Oh, I don’t have condoms.”
“I’ll go get some,” I said.
“No, don’t stop. It’s okay.”

Selfish fuck. LOL. Bernard is one of those brothers with a banging body who believes the spotlight is on him, I guess. He wouldn’t even kiss, saying that was an intimidate act he saves for “his boy.”

I’m sure we will continue to be friends but I don’t think I will hook up with him again. Shit, my tongue is still sore from eating his ass for an hour. To his credit, it was delicious and I blew a thick nutt fingering his ass while he stood over me.

Flash forward to today. I hooked up again with “Darren,” the married guy with shoulder length dreads who lives the next town over. We fucked like rabbits.

I played a magic trick with him. Make the wand disappear. And my long, thick black wand did — right up his ass. Doggy style. Missionary style. I finally fucked him on the floor sideways with his legs scissored. I tried my best to pound the shit out of him.

“Cum on me,” he said.

So, I pulled my dick out of his wet ass and pulled the condom off and we jerked. He was wearing a sexy, thick silver cock ring and his dick was rock hard and slicky-shiny with lube. We came together. All in his pubes and all over his abdomen. I got up, wet half of a towel with warm soapy water, and walked back and tenderly washed him off with one half of the towel and dried him with the other half. Just like a baby.

It was my pleasure. That’s because Darren showed me the difference between good and bad sex. He sucked my dick, and did everything he could to get me hot including talking nasty. After I fucked him for awhile, he even ate MY ass then got down and sucked my toes. Now that’s some good sex.

Darren has a nice body but is not all chiseled like Bernard. But what difference does that make? When it comes to sex Bernard is good but Darren would win the Olympic Gold.

I know you read this Darren. Thanks brother.

Before I Take the Plunge


Over the last few days I’ve been talking to friends, asking them what is it like to be out. To be gay. I still can’t quite wrap my head around that designation. I don’t think of myself as gay.

I am Immanuel – a father, husband, worker, friend, confidante who just happens to like to swing with dudes sometimes. Despite what you read about my sexual exploits on my blog it really takes up a small amount of my existence.

My buddy “Andre” offers sage advice. “Live it the way you want to,” he says. That means just because you are gay you don’t have to go to the gay bars, join pro-gay marriage groups or put a rainbow bumper sticker on you car. Or you can choose to do those things if you want, Andre says.

That’s because there are numerous kinds of gay people just like there are a lot of different kinds of straight people, he explains. Don’t put yourself in a box.

Others warn about the bullshit and the discrimination you could face after coming out. The other day I dropped by a friend “Paul’s” house and met his neighbor, “Teal.” Teal was out walking her pitbull when I parked the car and I thought she was a dude at first but in fact she is a very butch lesbian.

Brawny arms, close cut hair, and a blustery swagger, just like a dude. But Teal is so warm and welcoming you really want to hug her.

Teal says her father is refusing to provide her much financial help for school or emotional support until she starts dating men. He wants to walk her down the aisle at her wedding to a man. I know he means well, but what he is doing is emotional blackmail.

And I can’t imagine Teal waltzing down the aisle in a white, frilly wedding dress and high heels. But she would look damned good in a tux.

I got some Popeye’s chicken and Paul, his lover, Teal and I sat down and grubbe, thowing the bones to Paul’s greedy dog, a boxer. Later Teal came and talked to me alone. For a moment she let her guard down and dropped the B-Boy attitude. An expression of sadness and longing softened her face. But she didn’t cry. “I wish he would just accept me for what I am,” Teal said of her father.

Another buddy, “Baron,” recently went to a family reunion down South. His father has multiple kids by multiple women and it was the first time Baron met some of his siblings.

One walks up to him and says, “I wanted to meet you but Daddy said you were gay and into wild sexual shit and I should leave you alone.” Two other half-brothers share the same story with him.

Baron is furious and bursts out crying. His brothers comfort him and by the end of the reunion he has formed bonds with his half brothers that should endure. But he doesn’t confront his father over his duplicity. He is better than me. I would have slammed the motherfucker.

Did the fact Baron is gay make his father dislike him so much he had to alienate his son from his siblings? And who is his father to judge? The man is a philanderer, fucking women from coast to coast and leaving his seed behind for some woman to raise alone. But since he is “straight” I guess his sexual habits are okay.

So as I prepare to jump all this shit is swirling in my mind. How will my family react? Exactly how much should I tell the kids? Will I be happier?

I’m standing on a diving board, 30 feet up in the air, afraid to make the leap and plunge in the cold water. But once you jump in the pool doesn’t the water that felt cold when you dipped your toe in soon feel warm?

Down-Low Men Are A Complicated Animals


Down-low brothers can be one of the most confusing species on Earth. You can observe us in the wild for months and think you have our mating and hunting patterns down pat. But we’re tricky animals.

Example: Last night I texted “Austin” online and asked him what is up. Like me Austin is married but decided to make the break to living a fullly gay lifestyle. So he left his wife and three kids a few months ago, got an apartment, and is trying to keep two households going. In these days of economic turmoil that’s a tall order.

Austin has criticized me for not being true to himself and following his lead. I hate to admit it but he is right. And now I’m taking a big leap of faith and making solid plans to launch the next half of my life somewhere on the other side of the rainbow.

But remember, down-low men are unpredictable and Austin is no exception.

“I’m thinking about going back home,” Austin writes. His children, particularly one son, miss him terribly. Austin says after he finishes a big, upcoming business project he will make a decision.

After reading his message all I can think is: “What-the-fuck?!?”

Austin is gay. I mean, real gay. I heard he once hosted a football party at his house for the guys and came downstairs in booty shorts. Yeah, you heard me. Booty shorts. Austin has juggled more dick than his wife will ever get.

Austin is a very complicated member of the down-low species. Intelligent, creative, resourceful, enthusiastic but mixed up, confusing, catty and frustrating. But hey, don’t we all have issues? And the decision to stay or not stay in a marriage or relationship with a female is highly personal. What works for one man will not work for another.

So who am I to judge?

An End, A Beginning


I have been married a long time. Half my life. But it’s time for it to end. We had grown apart before I slipped into the down-low world. But there are children involved, finances, and property. Entanglements.

I am making plans to move on to the next stage of my life and separate, but continue to take care of the homefront and be as courteous, respectful and loving as I can. It’s better for her — she has a right to someone fully committed to her. And it’s fair to me — I need to be myself because living a double life is so tiresome. And I need to restore the integrity I used to have.

So readers I’ll keep you abreast of my transition. What I’m doing. What I’m thinking. What I’m feeling. My erotic adventures. And I invite you to offer your advice and guidance. Just leave an anonymous comment.

And thanks for reading my blog. Less than a week ago I installed software to track readership. Don’t panic. The software doesn’t tell me who you are — just where readers come from and how often they read me. In just a week 200 people have visited this blog. That’s decent considering most of the readers come from word of mouth.

You come from all over the United States, United Kingdom, Indonesia, even Russia. Thanks for the interest. God bless you all.

A Marathon Fuck


This morning I had some time and hooked up with “Benny,” an IT professional in his 30s who lives just 20 minutes from me. Having sex with Benny is like running a marathon — just more pleasurable. You had better be ready to go long distance.

But I think the thing that attracts me most about Benny and makes me come back for more is his sexually free attitude. He is the father of two kids so you know he likes pussy. Since college he has swung with men and women and sometimes men and woman at the same time. He likes what he likes and feels no guilt about it.

“I just like sex,” he says.

He is masculine and straightforward, almost thuggish. Our sex follows a routine. I will arrive at his apartment, and he will bound down to unlock the front door so I can follow him back up to the top floor. Benny has dark skin the color of a Hershey’s Bar. His hair is shaved close. He works out and has strong, toned arms and back but a little stomach. Tattoos cover his chest and upper arms.

When I walk in I see a motorcycle helmet sitting by the front door and I remember Benny likes to ride crotch rockets down the highway, probably at breakneck speeds.

Sometimes he likes to fuck but with me he always gets fucked. We trade foreplay for awhile and then get at it. He bends over on the side of his bed, his plump ass staring up at me invitingly. He has already smoked a blunt before I come and has snorted some rush to relax his ass muscles to take my long, dark dick. I lube up and push my dick in Benny from behind.

We thump, thump, thump…my thighs smacking into his thighs. We fuck so long we push the mattress off the box spring and have to slide it back in space. When the mattress slides off again I just kneel on the boxspring and keep fucking him.

It seems he can never get enough. We take a break and he asks, “Where else do you want to fuck me?”

“Wherever you want, I’m following you,” I answer.

But I know what Benny likes and he ends up following me to the living room. I know he gets off getting fucked on his exercise equipment or on the floor of his living room, right in front of the sliding glass door. So that’s where we go.

We fuck doggy style and missionary style. His ass gets wet like a woman’s pussy, squishing and squishing and dripping.

“I forgot how good that dick feels,” he moans. By now cum is leaking out of his dick, dribbling on his stomach and crotch and onto my stomach when I fuck him face to face. Finally we just stop.

“You win,” I say, laughing. We have been fucking for almost an hour.

Benny hits the shower. I know not to try to shower with him or get too affectionate. He is a type of bisexual man who is very macho. Our sex is intense and passionate but there is a barrier between us. Sometimes cracks will be show in the wall though. One time I fucked a dude in front of him while he masturbated and later Benny said it made him jealous watching me with someone else. Another time I felt a little left out when we threesomed with a guy who used to date him. I wanted him all by myself, and the other guy was in the way. Plus he wasn’t nearly as sexy as Benny.

While Benny is showering I sit on the toilet. “Can I ask you a question”

“Sure,” Benny answers from behind the blue-and-white striped shower curtain.

“What kind of a gay man are you?” I ask.
Benny says he doesn’t like doing gay clubs — he prefers to stay home. Then he tells me to go get his cellphone and he will show me exactly what kind of gay man he is.
I go get his cellphone and hand it to him as he leans out of the shower. He deftly slides his fingers across the face of the I-phone, pulling up his photo collection. He shows me a series of pictures of him playing with a plump dark skinned-girl’s pussy. A shot shows him sticking his fingers and hand almost totally inside her. Then other pictures show him fuckin her. Benny’s dick is not large but it has a delicious curve that must hit a woman’s G-spot just right.

“That’s the kind of gay man I am,” he says proudly, water from the shower still streaming down his face. “The kind that likes pussy and dick.”