Gay Men and Their Girlfriends


I’m meeting more men who are predominately gay who claim they have girlfriends, usually in long-distance relationships. Getty image.

Self-hate in the gay community takes many forms. But one form I have noticed lately is the gay guys with girlfriends.

Like by having a girlfriend you aren’t really gay. At most you are bisexual. Which somehow in their minds is superior to being gay.

A few weeks ago I got hit up on via Facebook by an older man named “Duane.” He started flirting, which led to him sending nude photos and saying all the things he would do to me like sucking the hell out of my dick.

Finally we talked to each other by telephone and he explained that like me he had once been married and was a father and grandfather. His wife had died in a tragic accident and since then he had played with men, been in relationships with a few and even been a male exotic dancer in gay clubs to make extra money.

“But guys are crazy,” he said. “I ended up having to issue a restraining order against one of my boyfriends.”

Now Duane still plays with men and in fact bragged about hooking up with one of my old hook-ups, the illegal alien, who is now on the path to citizenship. But he also has a long-distance girlfriend in Georgia who he plans to live with when he retires in a few years.

“I just think women are better at relationships so I see myself settling down with her eventually,” he said. “I like to cook and really want to operate a food truck with her.

“Have you told this woman you have sex with men,” I asked.

“Well, she knows I experimented with men in the past and that I was an exotic dancer but she doesn’t know I’m doing so currently.”

“Do you have sex — it doesn’t seem like you get together that often,” I asked.

“Well, we have had sex one time.”

Oh. Okay. It will be interesting to see how that works out, I think to myself. For some reason I don’t think Duane is telling this woman the full truth.

Last month another man hit me up — this guy named Abebe. I think he is Ethiopian or something.

Abebe has a daughter from a previous relationship but is single now and enjoys bottoming. But when we talked on the phone I learn he has a fiancé. Like Duane, Abebe’s fiancé lives hundreds of miles away and he rarely sees her.

“Have you ever had sex,” I ask.

“No,” Abebe answers.

“Well, how often do you see her?”

“Oh, once every few weeks or months.”

These are men in their late 50s. They have good jobs and seem to be independent. They are very sexually active with men and go online to seek male partners. So why go through all this girlfriend pretense?

Burning Down the House


Thinkstock

My partner “Van” and I go to a Black gay men’s retreat in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina every Martin Luther King Holiday Weekend. It’s a private affair and you got to know someone to be invited.

It’s always fun and we get to interact with professional — and working class — gay Black men from all over these United States. One them, “Milo,” told me this story of being forced out of the closet:

Milo, who works for Amtrak in Los Angeles, lived with his girlfriend. A real beauty. Feminine. And good in bed.

But he also had a male lover on the side. A real handsome guy. Masculine. And a beast in bed.

For months, maybe years, Milo had his cake and ate it, too. Pussy and titties on Friday night. Ass and dick on Saturdays. And never did the two meet.

Until that day he came home from work on a Friday afternoon and found his girl dressed all sexy in black lingerie. They had been together for a while and settled into a routine. Was she trying to light a fire back under things?

“Hey baby, I really want to have a romantic Friday night with you. But first, I left you a little letter on the refrigerator. Go read it,” she purred.

“Oh shit,” Milo thought. “She wrote down something sexy she wants me to do. Like some freaky recipe.”

He grinned and trotted over to the refrigerator in their tiny kitchen and started to read it. And his smile vanished and the blood drained from his face, turning his pecan brown complexion three shades lighter.

His male lover had mailed his girlfriend a confessional and she had posted it for Milo to read.

“I just want you to know I’m in love with your man and he is fucking me too,” it read in part. And for your information you met me. I’m his homeboy Darren. The one he works out with on Saturday. But I’m more than just his buddy. And he is working me out in more than just the gym.”

Seconds passed that felt like hours. It felt deathly quiet in their downtown apartment, despite all that Los Angeles traffic whooshing just two floors below.

“Milo, I want you to explain this to me,” she said.

“Look baby, I got to make a run,” he said. “I will explain when I get back.”

I forgot to explain this. Milo is fun guy from Oklahoma. The life of the party. All smiles and jokes. He still has that high, whiny, Country and Western twang and sounds corny.

But he is crazy as shit,too.

“Immanuel,” he explained. “I went to a gas station and brought some gasoline and I went to that motherfucker’s house. He wasn’t home but I set that shit on fire and burned it down. That’s what that bitch ass got for doing that bullshit.”

“But didn’t you get caught,” I asked.

“Nah, I know how to do shit like that without getting caught,” he said. “And after what I did that motherfucker wasn’t going to talk to the police because he was afraid of what else I might do.”

Milo is handsome but has a face that looks almost like a cartoon character. Like his head is large and slightly bulbous, like Tweety Bird from the old Warner Brothers cartoons.

But something in his eyes — a steely hardness — made me believe he would commit arson and smile so sweetly in your face with that awww shucks manner that you would never believe he would.

Milo went home and sat down with his girl.

“Look baby, I messed up. Dude kept trying to seduce me and I tried it out. Let him suck this dick. That’s all. He just wants me and will do anything to mess up what we have. You know how them faggots are. They just want to be women, anyway.”

She looked at him with liquid, doe-like eyes. She loved him. Believed him. Forgave him.

“Look baby. Let’s get married next week and put this all behind us. Just something small down at the courthouse and a quick honeymoon down to Baja.”

“Yes Milo. I will marry you,” she said. And that night he fucked her till her pussy was sore and a week or two later they married.

But Milo kept fucking with dudes.

And she found out because despite letting the first one slide she was far more watchful.

And two months later they separated.

And eventually divorced.

Fuck me in front of my girlfriend


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.

Yeah, my girlfriend knows


 

Lance's girlfriend knows he likes dick but is down with the situation. Photo courtesy of Rastafarianism & Jamaican Culture website.

Lance’s girlfriend knows he likes dick but is down with the situation. Photo courtesy of Rastafarianism & Jamaican Culture website.

“Lance” is a short haul truck driver, with a route that includes southern Pennsylvania, Delaware,  and Maryland.

His job allows the brown-skinned, divorced father of two to get dick on the regular. In truck stops, in the cab of his semi, or in the houses of guys he hooks up with.

Lance, who was always curious about dick but got his first taste in the military, is an insatiable bottom. He loves to get fucked for hours and even brings rope with him in his overnight bag so guys can tie him up and have their way with him.

By doing that I think he is really pushing the envelope. Who is to say he won’t meet a mass murderer during his travels who will tie him up and knock him off. Lance doesn’t seem to care about danger as long as there is a promise of a stiff dick.

“I’m a flat out freak and I love it,” he says.

But Lance doesn’t fix the profile of a typical down-low brother because, well, he isn’t down-low. His current girlfriend, a wife chick from rural Pennsylvania, knows all about his yen for bottoming.

In fact, she encourages him to go out and satisfy his cravings, as long he comes home and gives her all the details, including how big was the dick, how the black man looked and how did the dick feel feel.

Evidently this must get her excited — he claims they still have an active sex life.

When he told me an a few friends his story I wasn’t surprised. I’ve quickly come to learn it takes all types to make the world go round.