I always counted on “George” as a friend and mentor.
We have so much in common. He was once married and is now divorced and lives as an openly gay man. Like me he has grown children. And he is a gracious and kind host.
But a big dick got between us.
George regularly hooks up with “Patrick,” a short, brown-skinned guy from North Carolina who reportedly has a dick so big it looks a baby arm hanging between his legs.
Apparently, George mentioned to Patrick how good I am in bed and Patrick started hitting me up. Which was a bit odd, because Patrick is supposed to be a primary top too.
Patrick started texting my profile on Adam4Adam and then we started texting on the phone. At first I thought he wanted a threesome with George and me. But it soon became clear he wanted to get me alone and play with my dick.
But Patrick’s behavior struck me as odd. It seemed like he was never working and was always hanging around cruisy Washington, D.C. spots like Union Station, which has a notorious men’s bathroom off the lower level food court, or the MLK Library near Gallery Place.
I mentioned to George about Patrick’s advances and his odd behavior and George told me he had concerns about Patrick as well. In fact, he told me he thought Patrick was homeless and a hustler.
“One weekend I picked him up and brought him over and his clothes had that homeless smell,” George said. “So I washed his clothes for him. But I made it clear I didn’t want to make that a habit.”
“Oh, now his behavior makes sense — he does behave like a homeless person going from place to place,” I said. And I thought nothing else of it.
But a few days later Patrick sent me an angry text, accusing me of being a typical faggot who runs and tells everything.
“What do you mean?,” I asked.
“George showed me the texts you sent about me,” Patrick said. “Lose my number.”
I almost laughed. This bum was acting like I was the one after him. He was the one sweating me.
“Why don’t you lose my number first because I don’t understand if you feel that way why you bothering to text me in the first fucking place,” I answered.
I then called George because I wanted to know why he would show this odd man text messages shared between two good friends. No answer.
Then I texted him. No answer.
Then I sent a message to his Adam4Adam profile. No answer there either.
And then I thought about it and realized George is 60 years old and it might be harder for him to get good dick. An although old Patrick might be homeless and a hustler with clothes that smell like musty feet George is probably grateful to get that dick fix from time to time.
So in this case, a big dick trumped a more than decade-old friendship.