Thought I knew you well enough to call you a man, but
Just like a test
Ju-just like a test
Ju-just like a test
I cram to understand you
Rapper MC Lyte 1988
From the start I should have known he was a low-grade sociopath. But against my better judgement my adventurous ass had to taste him. And I got a sour taste in my mouth, like lemon and salt.
My partner and I had known “Lawrence” for a minute. He came to one of our sex parties with another guy who was so hyped up on drugs that we almost had to throw him out. But Lawrence was cool — he wore a pair of long Johns and looked sexy sitting in a chair getting his big dick sucked while it was sticking out of them.
A month or so after that party he came back and had a threesome with Van and me. But that affair was kind of weird — Lawrence mostly just lay back passively while we played with him. So Van and I decided that likely wouldn’t happen again and chalked it up to experience.
Months passed. In November and early December of 2016 Van was away in Florida setting up his condo and I was alone for a month. But it was cool — we have an open relationship so it was understood I could have company.
And Lawrence started hitting me up around that time, saying he wanted to get together again. And finally it happened again.
He came over and we had some weed and hit the bed and I’m not lying the sex was much better than before and stretched my boundaries. And I think we met the next week and did it again.
And he started coming on strong, throwing out hints he wanted to meet my Mom and date me, and calling me up at lunch just to talk. And against my better judgement, or maybe because I was lonesome, I started to get hooked on the attention. Because it was intoxicating.
And then one Saturday morning he invited me to go with him to walk his dog at Druid Hill Park. The day was starting and that damp cold that can grip Maryland at the start of winter was setting in. I could feel it lapping my cheeks like wet, icy kisses.
We were in the middle of the field and he let his big, furry dog off the leash to go running. And he turned and embraced and kissed me, right out in the open. Traffic just going by on Beechwood Drive and just beyond on busy Auchentoroly Terrace. A few people even walked nearby and I swear a man in a parked work truck looked over and stared.
I have to admit it was hot. It was the most romantic thing that had ever happened to me as an openly gay man. Like I was in a movie or something.
But another part of my mind was thinking about what I had read about sociopathic people. That they hook you with attention and flattery to get what they really want. And that you are really disposable.
In fact his behavior perplexed me so much one day I called him and just asked.
“What do you want from me, man?”
He paused and answered.”A fuck buddy.”
That soon became apparent. He wanted me only when he wanted sex. And since I was getting a nutt too why not?
A few weeks before Christmas he met me at the nightclub Bunns on a Friday night. He introduced me to an old friend of his, “Taylor,” who was attending a private birthday party upstairs.
“We want to freak with you Immanuel. Let’s go over to Taylor’s place,” Lawrence said.
It was cool and I got Taylor’s address and cellphone number and we met up at his spot, smoked some weed, and got to freaking. Taylor was younger with a big dick like mine and we tore up Lawrence’s tall, brown-skinned body. We fucked him doggystyle and bent over the sofa and all over the floor of the living room.
It surprised me that Lawrence, a person who was so businesslike and professional during the week could let himself get fucked so roughly. I remember thinking if there were 10 guys up in there that night he would have let them all run up in him — that’s just how much in heat he was.
But I noticed Taylor acted a bit jealous of the attention Lawrence showed me. For instance while we were smoking I mentioned that I had invited Lawrence on a gay men’s trip with Van and me and Taylor looked hurt.
“You used to go on trips with me like that, Lawrence,” he said.
After we nutted we put on our clothes and Lawrence went to his car and I went to mine. It was a cold night and so I let my car idle and heat up. But before I could drive off Taylor was texting me, inviting me back to his ground floor apartment to keep fucking.
But I begged off, saying I had a busy Saturday ahead. And wasn’t he Lawrence’s friend?
Later that morning Taylor kept hitting me up. So I texted Lawrence to tell him what his friend was doing.
“He always does that shit,” Lawrence said, sounding angry. “He always hits up on the other guy after we have a threesome. Look Immanuel, I want you to let me know before you have sex with him again.”
Lawrence sounded like a jealous lover. So I told him I had no intention of sexing Taylor solo. And I texted Taylor and told him that too.
Taylor’s response was downright weird.
“Fuck you I don’t care,” he said. “I was really into Lawrence anyway.”
So why hit me up?
Then I told a good friend of mine “Darryl” about how Lawrence was acting and the weird aftermath to the threesome I had. And Darryl, who grew up in Baltimore and has been on the scene awhile, schooled me. I didn’t have to cram for the test about Lawrence anymore.
Lawrence was the type who would meet a guy and throw themselves into them and then fade back, just like he was doing to me and had probably done to Taylor, who was apparently still bent out of shape, Darryl explained.
Lawrence also only came out on the gay scene when he got horny and wanted to freak, Darryl said. He was one of those gay men who was only in it for the sex. In fact, Darryl had first met Lawrence in another gay bar, “The Gallery,” and Lawrence had only been introduced to him for less than an hour before Lawrence offered to suck his dick in the stall in the men’s bathroom.
“There is something about him that turned me off so I didn’t do it,” Darryl said. “Look Immanuel, I can’t tell you what to do but that guy is not worth your time. Fuck him if you want but keep him at arm’s length.”
Christmas came and I went to Florida to be with Van and Lawrence had to have an operation so our relationship cooled. I told Van what went down and he was pissed that Lawrence would try to make relationship overtures to me while he was away. But again, we chalked it up to experience. Because a lot of gay men are messy like that, Van said.
“He will hit you up again,” Van said.
And from time to time Lawrence would text me, or we would flirt because I must admit the attention was intriguing. But things would be weird sometimes.
I remember one night in March I was out dancing in Baltimore and he sent me a text at 1:30 a.m.. He was at a freak session down in Washington, D.C. and sent me a picture he apparently secretly took of a naked guy who was with him.
“Wyd,” he texted.
“Barhopping,” I texted.
“Freaking in dc thought you might be in the area,” he said.
Lawrence had admitted to me he had tried every drug in the book. He was probably hyped up on meth or something and getting his back blown out and wanted another dick, I thought.
“Okay, thanks of thinking of me lol,” I texted back. I don’t think he got that I was being sarcastic.
The photo Lawrence texted me.
And the next day I unfriended him on Facebook because that text exchange proved the point Darryl was trying to make. I decided I didn’t want to give somebody like that too much access to my life.
But a year passed and November has come around again. And the weather is turning chilly and damp. And Van went to Florida to check up on the condo and I was again alone.
And Lawrence said he wanted to hang out with me and we met up at Bunns. We talked awhile and then I went out front to grab a cigarette. And he soon rushed out after me, looking like he thought I would just leave without letting him know.
I really wanted to go barhopping that night and I suggested we hit The Eagle but he soon just came out and said why he wanted to hang out with me.
“I want you to fuck the shit out of me.”
His eyes looked almost like he was pleading — or was just plain horny. So I said yes and he followed me home.
But the sex was different — it didn’t have the same heat as a year before. I felt like I was going through the motions — like I was looking at myself having sex with him. In fact, my dick could barely stay hard.
And he fell asleep before I could ask him to leave and was snoring so I let him rest. And we lay a few hours and then I got up and showered and fed the cat and made myself a cup of coffee. And I heard him upstairs getting up and dressing.
And when he came downstairs and put on his coat to leave I looked at him and wondered, “Why the fuck did I do that?”
I felt a little used but hey I am very grown and knew what I was doing. I wanted to taste that again to see if it would be the same. But it wasn’t.
Now I have to get that sour taste out of my mouth again.