Slut or Ho? Let’s talk about that


“You know Immanuel, you are really just a ho (whore) running round fucking these boys,” my friend “Wally” said a couple of days ago.

“Nah, Wally, you are wrong. A ho gets paid for their services. Other than that time I got paid to escort I have sex for free. That really makes me a slut. Get it right Negro.”

“And by the way Wally what makes you so innocent?,” I continued. “You hook up with guys online and go on OoVoo jacking off on cam with 10 other guys at the same time. So why aren’t you a ho or a slut?”

Wally quickly changed the subject. He is not so bright or introspective. I know he didn’t want to get into an intellectual sparring match with me.

ethical slutAmerica is a strange society. We use sex to sell everything from body wash to BMWs. And we consume pornography more than any other nation. But we still have a schizophrenic, unwholesome attitude toward sex.

In the heterosexual world a man can fuck as many women as he wants but if a woman chooses to explore her sexuality with several men she is labeled “loose, slut, whore, slattern, skank, cum dump…” the list goes on and on.

The same double standard exists in the gay community to a lesser extent. A top can fuck as many dudes as he wants but bottoms who get around are talked about, possibly because we project straight male/female roles onto gay tops and bottoms.

“Man, that bottom’s asshole must be as wide as the Grand Canyon he takes on so many dicks,” I’ve heard folks whisper.

The other thing about the gay community I hate are people who get a lot of ass and dick but try to act sanctified like they are not out there. That just reflects how hypocritical and ashamed we are of sex, which is as natural and necessary for most people as eating, breathing or sleeping.

I’m a big ol’ slut and proud of it. However, I don’t think of myself in terms of the original meaning of the word, which dates back to before the 1400’s and first meant a slovenly, untidy woman or man.

I live my life more according to the book “The Ethical Slut” by Dossie Easton and Janet Hardy. These women sought to cast a new meaning to a derogatory term.

To them a slut is a person who believes sex is a healthy thing that is good for you. The authors embrace a non-monogamous lifestyle as long as rules are followed so everyone is above-board and no feelings get hurt.

In time I may be more open to a relationship but I think from the beginning we will have to be open about sexuality. And I would really like someone I can play with sexually with other people because I’m not jealous or possessive like that.

Because hey, I’m a slut and proud of it.

I’d like to interrupt my regularly scheduled program…


Antonio Douthit and Kirven Boyd, dancers in the renowned Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater, recently married. Handsome couple. Good luck to you!

Antonio Douthit and Kirven Boyd, dancers in the renowned Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater, recently married. Handsome couple. Good luck to you!

..To say I never thought I would see the day the U.S. Supreme Court, packed as it is with conservative nut jobs and that whack anti-Negro Clarence Thomas, would make decisions to move gay marriage closer to reality throughout all these United States.

I don’t think I will every marry again but it is nice to see more Americans have this right, no matter their sexual persuasion.

The only disappointing news of the week is that the same court has gutted voting rights legislation. That is an issue we cannot sit down on.

Because Republicans want to take this nation back to the Dark Ages, and we can’t let that happen.

Immanuel’s Gay Dating Interview Questions


He asked me out on a date last night to XS, a trendy Baltimore restaurant that serves sushi, coffee and cocktails and has a DJ spinning every night.

The food was great and the atmosphere stellar but I doubt “Douglas” will go anywhere except straight into my friendship file.

During the date he went on and on about all the courses he was taking to improve himself, all the clubs and activities he was involved in, and how he was planning on taking a shopping trip to New York City the next day to get some new clothes.

“What’s your birthday Douglas?,” I asked nonchalantly.

“January 7.”

“Oh, a Capricorn.”

“Yeah, right. That’s nice that you know.”

But all I was thinking to myself was, “Yeah, typical Capricorn trying to impress me with his social status and success stories. Boring. Can’t he talk about something other than himself? Or at least flirt a little.”

XS restaurant in Baltimore.

XS restaurant in Baltimore.

Now that I’m dating again I’ve learned to weave questions into conversations to figure out whether the dude will be a friend, a potential fuck buddy, a possible new relationship, or someone to kick to the curb. These questions include checking out their astrological sign (read my guide about that).

Or I listen for cues in their conversation that may hint the motherfucker is crazy.

Here are a few questions I ask and conversation points I note:

How many serious relationships have you been in in the last five years? (If it is three or more this person is probably not good relationship material. Or they are people who rush into relationships without getting to know the person well, something I and a lot of other folks are guilty of)

What kind of relationship do you have with your parents and family? (If a person doesn’t have a good relationship with the family could be a bad sign that there is unresolved family drama that could affect how they view a relationship. Conversely a person that is always has to care for a family member or spends a lot of time with family may not have time to really date).

— Are you out or not out? (Everyone’s comfort level with being out is different. Some are out to family and friends while others are not out at work. Differences in how out you are can have a huge impact on friendships and relationships. I remember spoiling an evening boat trip with my ex Morgan because a couple was onboard that knew my ex-wife and did not know I am now gay)

— Were you sexually abused? (Unresolved sexual and emotional abuse issues could have an impact on how this person treats relationships).

— You smoke weed? How often? Wow, you have had three drinks in an hour. Do you usually throw them back like that? (A little drug use or alcohol use may not be a big deal. But if the person has to smoke weed several times a week or use drugs or alcohol to get in the mood for sex or enjoy themselves then we’ve got a problem).

— You are a little short on cash and want me to cover the tab? (Dude is broke or is a poor money manager. This is a big, fat red flag. Run, don’t walk, away from this brother.)

— Wow, that is a nice messenger bag you have. It’s Coach. Wow, that must have cost a few hundred dollars. And you say you are renting and have two roommates? (adult men who wear trendy clothes but don’t own a window or a pot of piss to throw out of it may not make good dating choices.

— You hate your job? Wow, that’s too bad. Maybe it’s time for a change (People who hate their job but just go in to get a paycheck may not be the type of person you want to roll with. I believe a man should have passion and enthusiasm about what he does and should be ready to change jobs if the shit isn’t pleasing him.

— You really think Beyoncé is the best entertainer around? What makes you say that? (This person has a limited musical taste)

— Are you into one-on-one sex, threesomes? You ever been to a sex party? (Hey, to be honest I like sexually liberated people. It’s best to get that out very early in the dating process. There is nothing I hate more than guys who say they don’t get out that much sexually but really do. I respect honesty about sexual needs and wants)

— Okay are you a top, bottom or what? (Yeah, this question should have been settled before you went out on a date but some guys keep this a mystery for some reason)

— Where do you see yourself in five years? (Does this dude have plans. Even if it is likely his fantasy will never become reality it’s nice to with people who have dreams and aspirations).

Q: Readers, what are some of things you ask people you date to feel them out?

Now that’s Jack’d Up!


Jack'd logo

Jack’d logo

One of the problems with the gay smartphone hookup app Jack’d is that you can’t turn the damn thing off. The shit is always on.

Thankfully I don’t have a public facial photo on my profile. Which likely saved my ass at work a few weeks ago.

There is a gay guy who works in the accounting department of my company. He is stylish, handsome, witty, well-built, openly gay and fabulous. And the ladies love his little chocolate ass. Even my Office Wife.

Trent's blue suede Kenneth Cole shoes.

Trent’s blue suede Kenneth Cole shoes.

“Trent you always have the latest fashions,” she gushed. “Where did you find blue suede shoes?”

“Girrrlll, I picked these up at the Kenneth Cole outlet in New Jersey on my way to New York City,” Trent answered. “You can’t find shit like this in these tired ass D.C. stores.”

But since nobody at works knows I’m gay I hear a different story about Trent when he isn’t around, things that make me want to stay deep in the office closet.

“Isn’t it a shame,” Office Wife said one day when while we walked down the street to grab a bite to eat. “Half the dudes in this company are gay. It’s a damn shame because Trent is so fine and he has bigger muscles than you. Damn.”

I gulp silently and think of a comeback. “Yeah, too bad but hey there ain’t a lot of fine sisters working in the office either.”

Now going back to Jack’d. I was sitting at my desk and went on the Jack’d app to see who was relatively close. There are several guys in office buildings down the street I have chatted with but never met.

And there was a profile showing a person less than 100 feet from me. Oh shit. That’s practically down the hallway in the next group of cubicles. Wait. There is a face photo. It’s Trent! Shit.

I quickly powered my Droid down and kept it off for the rest of the day.

Q: Blogger Jamari Fox once wrote about a person on Jack’d who stalked a guy in the store he recognized from the app. Have you had embarrassing things happen with you due to a hookup app?

A Broken Bond


My ex Morgan and I had tried to be friends.

A movie here. An email there. And texts most everyday.

But last Sunday I invited him to see “Elliot Loves” at the LGBT film festival in Baltimore’s Highlandtown.

Afterward I made a suggestion to him. The next day he said he was considering it and I urged him to just do it.

And he texted something curt. I texted something curt back.

And all the anger and frustration and hurt and pain we felt spilt out in a volley of texts.

We both said things we shouldn’t have. Petty, nasty things. Things meant to inflict pain.

The next day I tried to apologize. But Morgan said he wanted nothing to do with me. To not text or call.

So the bond is broken.

Morgan if you read this thanks for being so supportive and always encouraging me to aim higher.

Thanks for being my first real love in this new gay life. To me you will always be one of the sexiest and kindest men I know, warts and all.

Thanks for walking a part of this life with me. And hanging with me and my daughter.

And for being the first man I was serious enough to introduce to my Mom although she threatened to “fuck you up” if you messed with her baby boy.

And I meant what I said. If you ever need me in this crazy world I will be there.

Love Immanuel

The Wet One


Michael

Michael, the Wet One

I woke up this morning after tossing and turning most of the night.

Horny? Bored? Insomnia? Who knows? Maybe a mixture of all three.

This 33-year-old dude had hit me up earlier in the night. But I forgot about him and managed to doze off.

At 7:30 a.m. I awoke, happened to go online and there he was. “Can I come over?”

“Why not? Yeah, sure.”

“Michael” arrived and was far more handsome than his Adam4Adam photos. Five feet eleven. A little meat on his bones but not too much. Masculine with a quiet, deep voice. Shadow beard and goatee. Taper Cut. Dark Chocolate skin.

We chit chatted awhile and got down to business. First nipple play, than I ate his ass and he sucked my dick. And we fucked. And fucked. And took a break. And two hours later were still fucking.

“Take that ass,” Michael moaned, his eyes rolling back in his head. “Get up in those guts.”

Every time I mounted him his ass got wetter. So wet there was no need for lube. There were wet spots all over my sheet. His ass was so wet his juice ran down the crack of his ass, wetting the hairs there.

“When I first walked in the door I couldn’t take my eyes off you,” he said. “When I get really turned on I get wet like that.”

I watch porn of women who ejaculate and squirt — that shit turns me on. But I never met a guy who got so wet.

It was hot. So I took some photos to remember him in case we never meet again.

Q: Readers, have you ever been with guys who get wet?

Michael's wet hole.

Michael’s wet hole.

Ass juice and nutt was all over my sheets.

Ass juice and nutt was all over my sheets.