Okay you wanted butt photos so Van took them! Merry Christmas! And send your email to firstname.lastname@example.org so I can friend you on Facebook.
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.
He is about five years older than me but works out in the gym three or four days a week so the body is tight.
His dick is so thick and big I swear it hangs down halfway to his knee. But he doesn’t visit me to take care of his dick. It’s his ass that needs attention.
You see, I’m the Side Chick (Dude) to a man who has been in a relationship with another man for 20 years.
He is the top in that relationship and there is no way his man is going to change from being a bottom after taking that humongous, pretty dick for two decades. And after being together for so long there is no way they are going to break up. They really do care for each other.
So he comes to me to get that sex itch scratched.
He says he loves taking my dick and my tall dark body. How I take control and pound him into the mattress.
He may visit me for an hour every few weeks. But during that time he plays out all the fantasies he cannot do at home. And like a good Side Chick (Dude) I play along.
For instance, he likes for me to leave the door unlocked. He will enter and take off his clothes, stripping down to sexy mesh briefs. And then we will play a game of hide-and-seek, trying to find out where I am in my rowhouse. When he finds me the prize is a good fucking.
Or he bring over a bottle of champagne and sips it with me as we take breaks from fucking. I guess he is a romantic and wants that dating experience.
I’m not much of a drinker and would never buy a bottle of champagne. And the hide-and-seek fantasy games are kinda corny and the skimpy underwear don’t do too much for me — but his ass is tight as hell and that body is sexy so it’s all good. I play along like a good Side Chick (Dude).
I have threesomed with him and my partner “Van” but outside of that he wants to keep our arrangement private. Plus his dude is very jealous and might flick off if he found out.
Last summer I was at the Bachelor’s Mill Club in Washington, D.C. and ran into him and his partner. I pretended that I didn’t know him — you know, like a good Side Chick (Dude).
As I sat talking with my friends who were playing Spades I noticed him looking over at me from the bar. Every so often we would lock eyes and stare. His partner was oblivious, busy chatting with folks he knew.
My phone buzzed. It was text message from him.
“God, you look so sexy outside of the bedroom. I really like the way you walk and interact with your friends.”
“Thanks handsome,” I text back.
Why do I do this? If I was single I don’t think I would date this person — conversations with him are pretty dull. But that hour or so with me every few weeks seems to give him so much pleasure. I’m a hoe with a heart of gold and like to see people happy.
And frankly I get an ego boost from being desired so much.
So I stay the good Side Chick (Dude).
I was hanging out at Club Buns in Baltimore last Friday night and went outside to cool off from dancing and struck up a conversation with this younger guy in his 30s And this is the story he told me:
“Barry” grew up in the Church of God in Christ (COGIC), a conservative, Pentecostal faith that can trace its roots back to Mississippi in the late 19th century.
Barry was gay but that was something that didn’t go over well with COGIC, at least not openly. So he suppressed it, attended services several times a week at his church in North Carolina, and got his Praise Break on when the spirit hit him.
He even got a girlfriend. Like a good, young COGIC couple they decided not have sex before marriage. Barry was secretly relieved — he didn’t have to perform sexually with a woman when he really preferred men.
But that didn’t mean Barry didn’t get his freak on. He was in his early 20s in the first decade of the 21st century so he knew how to go online to find sex.
And this dude hit him up online and they agreed to email each other. And then they exchanged numbers. And surprise, surprise the man’s telephone number was already in his cellphone. It seems another member of his COGIC congregation was in the same predicament as Barry.
Shoot, they were even in the same young adult Bible Study group.
After getting over the initial embarrassment and surprise of learning they were both gay, Barry and “Chris” decided to use to their advantage the fact they were COGIC members attending the same congregation.
They both had girlfriends so double-dated. After they double dated the two would go home together an and fuck each other silly. And they could be together at church and not raise eyebrows because they were supposedly just brothers in faith.
“I didn’t give my girl a key to my apartment but I gave Chris one,” Barry said. “I would come home from work and he would be laying on the couch watching TV, ready to fuck.”
“Since we were both members of the same COGIC congregation and dating girls who were friends we had an excuse to see each other all the time and if folks saw us together outside of service they just assumed we were friends hanging out. It was a good cover.”
“You mean your girl never suspected you were gay,” I asked.
“Nah man. She never did.”
In fact, Barry said he and Chris once went on a date together to Build a Bear and made bears for each other.
“We lied and told the staff we were making bears for our girlfriends,” said Barry, a handsome, dark-skinned man with a slight stature. “That worked because the staff was so helpful. They even helped us pick out clothes for our bears that they thought our ‘girlfriends’ would like.”
Eventually Barry decided to move to Baltimore for better career opportunities and he broke up with his girlfriend, who married another man a few years later. But he also broke up with Chris, too.
“You know we are still friends and when I go down to North Carolina to see family I visit him,” Barry said. “He still has the bear I made him on his bed.”
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.
I sat down and thought, “Wow I have so much to be thankful for. Here is a short list:
- A God who loves me no matter what despite my many imperfections.
- A restored relationship with my children.
- A good man.
- Good health and good doctors to keep it that way.
- A good job.
- A roof over my head.
- A boatload of folks who for some reason still think I’m sexy.
- Supportive family and friends, especially Mom.
- A crew of blog readers who take time to read about my life and comment with good advice and funny words that make smile.