Jordan the Bisexual


Photo courtesy of Alternet

Photo courtesy of Alternet

I was out running errands today and ran across Jordan when I stopped at a light near the Horseshoe Casino in Baltimore.

Jordan, a slight, young black man with a pecan complexion, was pacing back and forth at the intersection of Russell Street as if he was waiting for a cab or Uber.

Several times he made eye contact with me. Then he crossed the street in front of me and I thought he moved on. But then I heard a knock on my passenger side window. It was him.

I rolled down the glass. Cold air rushed in.

“Are we near the Inner Harbor,” he asked.

“Yes, it’s about a mile away — that way,” I said, pointing to the north.

“Look I need a ride. Can I pay you $10 to take me over there.”

It was the opposite way I had to go to drop my car off at the shop for a repair. But he seemed like a nice kid and he was so small I could easily whip his ass if he got frisky.

“Okay, I’ll give you a ride but don’t come in here and try any shit. And I don’t need your $10.”

“Aww, cool,” he said, laughing.

During the ride he explained his situation. He was 25 years old and from Minneapolis and had been living in Baltimore only a year but loved it. He had been gambling at the casino and lost some money and was ready to go home.

But for some reason he didn’t have a ride (I never got a clear answer) and his girl was mad at him because she found out he was still fucking his ex-girlfriend. In fact, the ex-girlfriend had sent his current girl some compromising photos showing she had screwed him at their place.

“Jordan, man you are going to have to pick which one you want,” I said. “You can’t play two women like that.”

“Or maybe if you are open and honest with them they may be willing to share you — you know some women are doing that now,” I said jokingly.

“Well, they both mean so much to me,” he said, a frown darkening his handsome face. “I would hate to give up either one.”

He was silent awhile.

“Well you know I’m bisexual too.”

I had gotten a gay vibe from him from the way he looked me in the eye. And from the corner of my eye I think I saw him rubbing his crotch and side eyeing me.

So I didn’t miss a beat. “Well, I’m gay but I was married to a woman and I understand.”

“Oh, okay, thanks,” he said.

“How long you been doing dudes,” I ventured.

“About a year,” he said. “I just find them so much easier than dealing with women, especially them two I got.”

I didn’t say anything. I knew that wasn’t necessarily true.

“Hey can I have your number,” Jordan asked.

I wrote my number down on a piece of paper  as I dropped him off at the corner of Pratt and Light Street.

“I’m going to text you right away so I can keep up with you,” he said.

The thought of my partner “Van” and I turning out this handsome, tender  young chicken was appealing. My dick was already getting hard.

However, deep down inside I knew he wasn’t going to text — there are prostitutes and hustlers hanging around the casino and he probably thought I was an easy mark that didn’t pan out.

And he didn’t.

 

15 thoughts on “Jordan the Bisexual

  1. Ohhhhh, I don’t know that I’d write him off just yet. He may yet call, when money is tight and he’s trying to find some quick income. Ya just never know.

    But if you bring him home, hide all the good silver ‘n shit. And make sure that the entire time he’s there he’s got a dick in one or both of his holes so he can’t get up and go exploring in your house.

    Hell…..if you’ve got a sling, just put him in it and put cuffs on him. That way you don’t have to worry about him going anywhere.

  2. Cute story Immanuel. You have a really talent for writing and for bringing detail to life. Tell us, have you always written or journaled?

  3. I’ve wanted to say this the last few post, but hadn’t yet.
    PDQ always…not just have a plan, but a blog by blow play, for how you should tackle most of your situations or future conquests. It really makes me laugh.

    As for our young, bisexual, friend, Jordan…this post sounds like something I would write about. I mean if I had a dollar, for every time I gave a Nigga a ride; and pussy talk ended in someone having a sick in their mouth…well I wouldn’t say I would be a rich man, because I don’t want y’all to think I’m a hoe or anything.
    Well I’m a hoe.
    It’s a coin toss, as to whether he is a hustler, or just simply bi, and just cool with a random meet. Even if he doesn’t mention it now, if he calls you later, he might mention can you help him out a little a.k.a. Money. The fact that he offered you gas money, to me is a sign of the latter. Just be careful.

    • Will definitely be careful. I told my buddy The Thug Up The Block about what I did and he was very upset. “Don’t ever do that again…folks get carjacked in Baltimore like that@”

    • Laugh all you want. I was a wild child before I settled down and got married – willing to try damn near anything (sexually) with anyone. It’s truly a wonder I didn’t wind up with something I couldn’t get rid of…..or end up dead (seriously).

      My hubby is a more traditional type. He’s also 100% the top and in control. Over the last 14 years he has had a calming influence on my out of control, impulsive, Aries nature. And now, in my mid-50’s, carrying about 30 lbs. of excess weight, no one would WANT to get wild with me anymore even if I were single and willing!

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