Photo courtesy of ASOS.com.

Tonight “C.K.” texted me and said he wanted to play with me and my partner “Van.” An hour later he walked in my front door and I spotted a purple hickey on his neck.

“Damn, what have you been up to,” I asked.

“Oh, my ex-girlfriend dropped by yesterday and she did that,” he said.

I just smiled and took it in stride. Last night C.K. had pussy. But tonight he wanted to play with dick.

“C.K.” is 27 years old and from New York City. Brown-skinned, handsome, six-feet two, a little thick and cute as a Teddy Bear.

He is the masculine, mostly silent type. I have known him for more than a year but only know few details about him because he is so reticent. I think we have hooked up three times counting tonight with Van. I don’t even know his first or last name — just his initials.

But there are a few things I know for sure.

I know his mother died. I know his father got caught up in the streets and is in prison. I know he had to  get out of New York so the same thing didn’t happen to him. I know he works two jobs to make ends meet.

And I also know he is wrestling with his sexuality.

Tonight Van and I played with him, licking his nipples, eating his ass, and stroking his dick, which is not very big but gets hard as a rock as it rises from between his beautiful thighs. Then he watched me fuck Van before we all jacked off and busted good nutts.

But before the sex we talked.

“You and your partner have sex parties,” he asked me while we lay on the bed, watching “John Wick 2” on HBO.

“Yeah, how did you know?”

“Oh, you texted me.”

“Oh, wow, I didn’t know you were on my party invite list. I forgot. But I know sex parties are not your thing because you are so undercover.”

He paused a moment and spoke again.

“I could never come to a sex party. I’m too shy for that.”

But he kept asking questions about it.

“How many guys come?”

“Oh, 35 or 40,” I answered.


“C.K. some people come and just watch. It’s up to you.”

“I will tell all the guys to leave you alone because you are a newbie,” I joked.

“Oh, don’t do that. I wouldn’t want to bring attention to myself,” C.K. said.

He is limited in what he does sexually. He says he does not want to fuck or get fucked by a dude. He doesn’t kiss. But he loves to be touched and get his nipples licked.

While we lay in bed together, waiting for Van to finish showering, he would sometimes reach out and hold my hand.  Then let it go and hold it again. I found the gesture sweet and endearing.

I think C.K. would make some man a great catch if he ever decided to explore a relationship with a man. Besides being handsome some would find his New York accent and swag and strong work ethic appealing.

“Have you ever dated a guy,” I ask.

“No, not yet,” C.K. answered.

An hour or so later, after we all nutted and washed up C.K. said he was ready to take the light rail home so I walked him to the door.

“I could do like you two,” C.K. said as he walked down the stairs behind me.

I didn’t understand. Did he mean how Van and I had sex?

“What do you mean?,” I ask.

“I think I could be in a relationship like you and Van.”

I smiled. “Whenever you are ready man. It’s up to you.”

And I opened the front door, said goodbye, and C.K. disappeared into the chilly, still Autumn night.



Florida Swinging: Let’s make STD testing fun!

The Out of the Closet Thrift Store and clinic in Fort Lauderdale's Wilton Manors.

The Out of the Closet Thrift Store and clinic in Fort Lauderdale’s Wilton Manors.

My partner “Van” and I have an open relationship.

And since I have a job back at home in Maryland and he has the condo in Florida we are separated for weeks at a time. So of course being red-blooded same-gender-loving men we are going to have sex with others.


Sitting in the waiting room waiting to be tested.

We were hanging out in Fort Lauderdale’s very gay Wilton Manors neighborhood last week thrift shopping with a friend of Van named “Rodrigo.” I’ve only known Rodrigo a week but love him already — he is a handsome little dark-skinned shorty of Haitian and Dominican descent and is a blast to hang out with.

The thrift shop we visited — Out of the Closet — uses it proceeds to fund the AIDS Healthcare Foundation. They also offer free STD screenings on Tuesday afternoon.

My doctor gave me a clean bill of health in late November and we practice safe sex. But Van thought it was a good idea to get tested again since we were playing with others while apart.

Rodrigo is pretty sexually active too and thought it was a good idea. Plus he knew some of the volunteers at the clinic and they told us to come a half hour early or so to make sure we were first in line to get tested because the place gets crowded.

Posters in the waiting room.

Posters in the waiting room.

So we decided to make a little bit of a party of it. I ran down the street and got hot dogs with chili from the Dairy Queen and we sat in the waiting room chatting up the other folks waiting to get tested and sharing snack food.

I was surprised who showed up. There were older gay men who looked like they were in their 70s, this hot looking young black girl with coppery eyes who shared her Gummi Bears with me, and even a mother bobbing her infant in her lap.

But hey. We were all there to make sure our health is okay and we are not spreading something nasty to others. So be responsible, practice safe sex, and get tested too!

The DL Meth Dealer

meth“Corbin” leads a double life that is even more complex than that led by most gay and bisexual men who are married to women.

Every few weeks he tells wifey he has to work out of town. Corbin is half telling the truth. He does have to work. But his work is dealing methamphetamine out of hotel rooms.

“You won’t believe how much money I make,” says Corbin, who is in his mid 40s and has three kids under the age of 10. “My children have everything they need — horseback riding, a nice house, music lessons and baseball leagues.”

I try not to judge men I meet in this lifestyle and I promised Corbin I wouldn’t judge him when I interviewed him for my blog. He was already extremely paranoid — he kept asking me whether I was a detective trying to turn him in.

But you can’t escape the fact that methamphetamine — or “tina” or “chrissy” or  “glass” or “crank” or whatever you want to call it — is destroying the lives of many gay or bisexual men. The drug, which can be a white, yellowish or reddish powder or a waxy or clear rock, creates feelings of intense sexual euphoria.

This leads users to go on marathon sexual binges where they fuck for hours or days, often doing risky sexual behavior and taking on dubious sexual partners they wouldn’t look at twice if sober. It is estimated one out of four gay and bisexual men have tried meth so the likelihood someone you know is addicted is very high.

The website tweaker.org offers nonjudgemental help to people living with a meth addiction. The website offers treatment resources but also advice for people who are addicted to meth to use it more responsibly.

Increasingly men hit up on my partner “Van” and I who want to PNP (party and play), or smoke and inject meth first and then get down to sex. Sometimes it feels like everybody I meet online is doing it.

The drug releases dopamines, or pleasure chemicals in the brain, and is supposed to make sex 12 times more intense. I love sex so that sounds tempting but the downside of this addiction has made me scared to ever try it.

Withdrawal symptoms include paranoia, depression, suicidal thoughts, a feeling that bugs are crawling on your skin, drowsiness or an inability to sleep.

Users  report they have difficulty enjoying sex without meth. And men even in my age group have said the addiction has cost them everything — cars, homes, jobs, family and friends.

Worst yet many medical experts say the drug is fueling higher HIV infection rates, especially among young men.


Corbin doesn’t think about all this. Or maybe he does and just doesn’t give a fuck because he can make tens of thousands in a week while most of us are slaving away just to make our rent or mortgage payment.

Corbin, a handsome, brown-skinned black man, acts as a supplier, transporting the drug from manufacturers to people who sell it on the street. He says this reduces the risk he will be arrested.

He said men from all walks of life use it — doctors, lawyers, teachers, politicians and Starbucks barristas to name a few.

“Some of the men we supply want me to fuck them too,” said Corbin, who used to play football in high school and still has a fairly athletic body and a thick, big dick. “But I tell them I’m not trade — we are selling them meth.”

And Corbin is probably hooked himself. He uses meth, although he says he has it under control and can balance his life as a family man and husband in the suburbs on one hand and a bisexual man who sells crank on the other.

While he is juggling several cellphones dealing  meth Corbin says he will smoke a little of his supply, call up his many contacts (he has plenty of guys in his cellphone who are ready to give up ass or dick for meth) and spends days in a downtown hotel room freaking.

As far as his wife knows he is just trying to get a project done.

I couldn’t do it. But who am I to judge?

One of the most beautiful men I’ve ever had sex with was a meth addict. It was one of the worst experiences I’ve ever had in the bedroom. Read “The Ecstasy and the Agony.”

Gus and the Arab Man

Photo courtesy of thepaperblogcom.

Photo courtesy of thepaperblogcom.

My buddy “Gus” wears a gold bracelet on his wrist, studded with diamonds.

It looks so fabulous you would think it is fake, but it’s not. It costs a cool $10,000.

Gus is an educated, professional, brown-skinned black Washingtonian around 40 years old but I know he is not making enough bank to drop that much on an accessory.

But over drinks Wednesday night Gus explained that it is a gift from his Saudi Arabian friend “Fadi.”

Gus met Fadi in an innocuous way — they started following each other on Instagram. And soon they started chatting and video calling. And it became clear that Fadi, although he is married with three kids, wanted to find an unclockable gay man to share some time.

That is because Saudi Arabia is fiercely homophobic and follows the ultra-conservative Wahhabi Islam faith. Being gay or a person who is transgender is punishable by death.

Fadi invited Gus over to Saudi, explaining that he would pay for the hotel and all expenses. Gus was nervous — was he going into a set-up? But he decided to go anyway, although he told his sister where he was going and why so she would at least know what became of him if things went sour.

Arab society, despite its homophobia, is very homoerotic. It is not uncommon to see men holding hands and even dancing together. Photo courtesy of thelovelyplanet.net.

Arab society, despite its homophobia, is very homoerotic. It is not uncommon to see men holding hands and even dancing together. Photo courtesy of thelovelyplanet.net.

Fadi was the consummate gentlemen. He flew Gus over first-class, took him on shopping sprees for designer gear and presented him with a cashier’s check for $10,000 for visiting him. His only requirement was that Gus wear traditional Arab attire and have raw sex with him because he didn’t like condoms.

On the second night Fadi came to Gus’s hotel room to consummate the sexual part of his arrangement.

“The sex was hot,” Gus said. “He ate me out for a long time and his dick was huge.”

Saudi men often greet each other by rubbing noses. Tell me that ain't gay. Photo courtesy of blogrodrigozsupelveda.com.

Saudi men often greet each other by rubbing noses. Tell me that ain’t gay. Photo courtesy of blogrodrigozsupelveda.com.

On other nights they went socializing and Gus discovered Arab society is a lot more homoerotic than you would believe by reading the headlines. Women are second-class citizens and men do not associate with woman they are not related to.

So men mostly hang around each other. Eating together. Dancing together. Holding hands. And gay life is there but deeply underground. Men meet each other for private parties that sometimes turn into sex parties.

“Fadi took me to one of them but it made me uncomfortable,” Gus said. “I thought maybe the men there thought they were going to gangbang me. But when I told Fadi I wanted to leave he was fine with that and we left.”

Three years later they stay in contact and Fadi has even visited the United States to see his African American boo.

“I’m only telling you this because you don’t judge Immanuel,” he said.

Nope, I’m not mad at him. I’ve heard stranger things in life.

Readers here is an article that ran in The Atlantic back in 2007 about gay life in Saudi Arabia. I was still married to my ex-wife and I can remember buying it and reading it clandestinely and throwing it away as soon as I could. It was really informative and reminded me that the DL lifestyle just does not exist among some Americans. They take it to a whole new level in Saudi Arabia.

Too Much Gay Sex on Empire? Come on son

Jamal and his lover Michael on Empire. Photo courtesy liverpooljaelo.tumblr.com.

Jamal and his lover Michael on Empire. Photo courtesy liverpooljaelo.tumblr.com.

I am a rabid “Empire” fan, and often follow comments on Facebook and Twitter while the show is still on.

And some of the comments of my straight brethren are killing me.

“There is too much gay sex.”

“Why do they have to have women kissing each other?”

“It just ain’t right.”

Nine times out of 10 it’s not straight men saying this shit but middle-age black women. Usually they don’t have a boyfriend or husband. Yep, they ain’t getting dick and hating that some gay man or lesbian is getting something they are not.

Just plain hating.

I am dying to comment but “Van” says why bother? Why get myself upset trying to change folks that are ignorant? He runs across the same thing on his Facebook page, especially from a cousin.

Guess what, she’s a middle age uptight black woman too.

There is no gay sex on Empire. There is no porn. You see lesbians kissing or Jamal and his Latino boyfriend or black photographer pretty boy (wow, they got rid of his character quick between the first and second season) passionately making out.

But they are not showing them simulating gay sex acts on TV. This is far from “Queer As Folk.”

Besides they are not doing anything straight actors do not do. Hell, even Viola Davis on “How to Get Away with Murder” is getting her swerve in. Did you see that black guy she was cheating on her husband with?


Same-sex marriage is legal and I’m seeing gay men and lesbians holding hands all over Washington, D.C. Times are changing.

But we got a little ways to go.

The Escort at the Sex Party

The sex party that “Van” and I hold in Baltimore is so popular folks keep asking us to have more. So every once in awhile we do.

The last party was Friday night and it was a great get together with about 45 men showing up. But like every party something funny happens that Van and I talk about later.

This time it was the escort that decided to show up. He hit me up on Adam4Adam, using the profile he used to advertise his services, and requested the address to the party.

Why would an escort come to a sex party? Wouldn’t that be like giving it up for free?

“I got a big dick and I’m going to roll up in your party with four of my friends who have big dicks too,” he texted.

I wasn’t impressed.

“Several guys coming to the party have big dicks so who gives a fuck?”

“That’s rude. Don’t be cussing at me man,” he texted back.

The Escort's dick, courtesy of his Adam4Adam profile.

The Escort’s dick, courtesy of his Adam4Adam profile.

I didn’t bother texting back. Why argue with someone who thinks his big dick was all that matters. Many men have big dicks and can’t throw sex worth a shit.

Despite the text argument the Escort came to the party.  A slight, light-skinned man wearing a baseball cap. I think he had gold in his teeth but neither Van and I looked at him close enough to tell.

He paid the entry fee and stripped down to his boxers. Van confirmed he did in fact have a big dick because he saw someone suck on it and even squeezed his boxer shorts to confirm.

Van and I were sitting in the living room talking to guests and he sat down too. We discovered he was a barber full-time and only escorted on the side.

He flirted with Van and bit, saying he wanted to play with him, but was unsure because I was there and he didn’t know how we swung.

“That was stupid,” I said to Van. “We hold sex parties together. It’s pretty obvious how we swing.”

The Escort said a man at the party he didn’t like was sweating him so he wanted to go and called a cab. Then the guy left and the Escort called the cab and cancelled because he wanted to stay longer

Eventually he left.

But just a few hours later after the sun rose he hit me up on Adam4Adam. He said he wanted to come back over and mess with Van and me.

But since he was an escort we had to pay him.

I didn’t bother to answer back.

Big Apple Dating Blues


New York City has fine men but searching for a relationship there is like hunting for Fool's Gold.

Last weekend “Van” and I drove up to Crown Heights, Brooklyn to attend a buddy’s 40th birthday.

And there were fine men everywhere.

Dominican men.

Puerto Rican men.

Black men.

Korean men.

White men.

Jamaican men.

Nigerian men.

Hassidic men (yep, those beards, wide brimmed hats and side locks do something for me).

So why come when I get to the rooftop party with the great view of the Brooklyn and Manhattan skylines and start talking to gay men about the dating scene they say it sucks?

“Abram,” a guy who moved to NYC from Baltimore in the 90s, said the main problem is there are too many men.

The variety is staggering.

“So everybody is afraid to settle down because they think a man that is hotter and more their type is just around the corner,” he said.

“But there is no perfect man,” I answer.

“I know, right,” Abram replied.

Even some of the “straight” men are suspect. Van and I went past a corner restaurant and a cute black guy and his girl were having lunch.

Do you know the man locked eyes with me and didn’t break the stare as I rounded the block?

I knew what that look meant.

The other problem is that it is soooo easy to hook up in the five burroughs, folks we met said.

New York City is a 24-hour town and the sex is around the clock.

I logged onto to Adam4Adam and quickly got 15 messages in my inbox from guys of every flavor you could imagine.

Two friends of ours, one who lives in New Jersey, invited us to this huge Nubian sex party on West 38th in Manhattan but we weren’t in the city to play and didn’t attend.

So I learned that just because you are around a million gay men in a huge metropolis doesn’t mean you will find Mr. Right.

But you sure can fuck as
much as you want until Mr. Right comes along.