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?

The Down-Low Men I Left Behind


man walking in the night

When I think about what I did — getting into men, separating from my wife, divorcing and starting a new life on the gay side — I was either very brave, very stupid, very crazy or all three.

Would I do it again? Mostly in hindsight I say yes but then at other times I doubt myself.

But then I look at guys I have interacted with who are still down-low and doing the same thing. Remember, almost a decade has passed since I started this blog. I was in my early 40s. Now I’m in my early 50s.

And there are men out there my age and older who are still doing the DL song-and-dance.

There is Gerald, 70 years old and still creeping. Remember him from this 2014 blog post? His wife had a stroke and he wanted me to come and lay up with him at his house while she was in rehabilitation. I just couldn’t do such a disrespectful thing.

Now Gerald is recovering from prostate cancer treatment but is still as horny for man sex as ever. I have heard sexual desire really does not fade as we age — just the ability to perform.

Gerald is staring mortality in the face (we all are now that we are middle-aged) and he texted me something very poignant. He said sometimes he looks back and knows he would have been happier if he had come out as gay in college instead of just getting married to meet other people’s expectations.

To be 70 years old and regret not being your true self is profoundly sad to me.

Remember Samuel, the older Caribbean man who came to me for advice about leaving his marriage? It’s six years later and he is still with her and sneaking around like an undercover agent searching for dick. Just stuck in a rut.

Then there is Lamont — the DL businessman with the big house who creeps on his wife with men, even boldly doing so while vacationing with her on cruise ships. Well,  last month his wife and child went on a vacation together and he had the house to himself.

Like Gerald he wanted me to come lay up — and bring the condoms and lube too because he couldn’t keep stuff like that around the house where wifey could find them.

I politely turned him down. I like sex as much as the next person and he has an amazing body but the whole thing — sneaking into the house while the wife is away — just doesn’t appeal to me. It’s not sexy or exciting. It’s just kinda pathetic.

Married guys still hit up on me online. DL men my age who have been swinging with men on the sly since high school and college and are still doing that same shit at 20, 30, 40 and even a half century later. How they keep that from their wives for so long amazing me unless their wives really don’t give a fuck.

Sometimes I envy them, I gotta admit. They have the hetero-privilege, the respectability, the public persona of being upright family men. They didn’t disrupt their families and have to rebuild relationships with children, friends and other family members like I did.

But when I really sit down and think about it I’m happy and content and free. And my life is not a half-lie. So I guess I’m good.

I Cram to Understand You


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.

 

 

The COGIC Couple


"Barry" and "Chris" discovered a conservative church was the perfect cover for their relationship.

“Barry” and “Chris” discovered a conservative church was the perfect cover for their relationship.

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.”

Photo courtesy of Build A Bear

Photo courtesy of Build A Bear

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.”

 

How to Get Banned from a Sex Party


It’s hard to get banned from a sex party but Emmett managed.

“Emmett” prides himself on being one of the most down-low gay black men in Baltimore.

He never lets a hook-up come to his house because he doesn’t want the neighbors to suspect his sexuality. 

And once he had two birthday parties on two consecutive nights — one with his church members and the next night with his gay buddies — to keep his straight lifestyle from intersecting with his gay one.

But although you will never catch him in a gay bar or the Pride Parade there is one thing Emmett does with frequency — sex parties. Every weekend you will find him haunting one in D.C. or Baltimore.

However, he called me a few weeks ago to say he had gotten banned from a popular one that a man from Africa runs once or twice weekly in Baltimore or the Maryland suburbs of D.C.

“I don’t know why it happened but I’m cool with it — I’m not going to worry about it,” an oblivious Emmett said.

I didn’t feel like hurting his feelings so I didn’t speak up. But I know why he was asked not to come to the African’s sex party. 

Remember, my partner and I have sex parties too and Emmett always come and we know how he swings. And we know people complain about him.

I have tried to advise him to change this irritating habits but he won’t listen. So readers, I will offer this advice to you so you never get banned from a sex party like Emmett:

— Don’t touch or initiate sexual contact with a person unless they invite you with a word, gesture or look. Emmett is known for being pushy.

— Pay attention to the sexual needs of your partner. Emmett is selfish. It’s all about him getting a nutt. His partner is just a tool.

— When two people are having sex with each other don’t try to butt in unless they invite you by word or gesture to join. Emmett is known for jumping in between people.

— Improve your sexual skills. Emmett’s sex game is so lame folks ask him to kick rocks! In fact, he is really into giving massages which is not what most people at sex parties are looking to do. That’s why I have advised Emmett to at least get a boyfriend to be affectionate with although getting a boyfriend is hard for a man who will not invite someone to his home because he is afraid of what some stupid neighbor thinks.

— Be genuine with folks and part of the community. Most people know Emmett is DL and just wants to come to sex parties to get his rocks off and leave. If he sees you in public the next day he likely wont’ even acknowledge you unless you are masculine enough to “pass.” Who wants to invest time in a person like that?

 

 

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.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

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.”

Young Love in the 80’s


Photo courtesy of nih.gov.

Gay black men in the 80s, the period when Phil and Darnell fell in love. Photo courtesy of nih.gov.

My friend  “Phil” told me this story about how he fell in love in the South in the early ’80s. I changed a few details to protect his privacy.

Phil and his older brother “Gus” are both gay. But Gus was bold and didn’t care and proudly came out of the closet when he was a teenager, and was soon a familiar face in all the gay bars in New Orleans.

Phil, who was more studious and quiet than his brother, stayed in the closet and busy studying while in college. Afraid to disappoint his loving parents by telling them yet another one of their sons was gay.

That was until Gus brought home his friend “Darnell,” a tall, broad-shouldered, brown-skinned black man with a mustache and short Afro, which was still in style as the 80s dawned.

Darnell went into the military but that didn't cool off the romance with Phil. Photo courtesy of ethosmagonline.com.

Darnell went into the military but that didn’t cool off the romance with Phil. Photo courtesy of ethosmagonline.com.

“I knew my brother had probably fucked around with Darnell but that didn’t matter,” Phil said. “We took one look at each other and the attraction was there. We soon became inseparable.”

More than 30 years later Phil said he has never had a love affair as intense as the one he had with Darnell. He liked the way Darnell talked. The way he walked. The way he smelled.

They didn’t have an opportunity to have sex often — family was often around. And when they did they mostly just tongue kissed and bumped and grinded. But Phil said the feelings were still intense.

“That man could touch me with all my clothes on and his touch would make me cum,” he remembered.

Phil was a sophomore at Xavier and working part-time at J.C. Penney but Darnell did not have so much going for him. So his grandmother, who raised him, persuaded Darnell to join the military and get out of New Orleans before he fell in with a bad crowd and got in trouble.

Darnell went away to basic training in Oklahoma. But his love for Phil didn’t stop — in fact the separation intensified it. He called Phil collect almost every day, running up the phone bill. And almost every night Phil would sit at the dining room table alone studying into the night, waiting for Darnell to call.

Darnell even managed to get an allotment for Phil so that each month a portion of his military paycheck went to his love back home in Louisiana. Phil cashed the checks and hid the money under his mattress.

You see, Phil was saving the money because he planned to run away with Darnell after Darnell got out of basic training and went to his first post in California.

They had it all planned out. Phil would drop out of college, get an apartment off base with Darnell, and work at J.C. Penney’s to help them make ends meet.

But the two lovers ended up as star-crossed as Romeo and Juliet.

Gay poet and activist Essex Hemphill (right) in the 1980s. Photo courtesy of Pinterest.

Gay poet and activist Essex Hemphill (right) in the 1980s. Photo courtesy of Pinterest.

Phil’s mother was cleaning the house and changed the linen in the room and found a few hundred dollars in cash between the box spring and the mattress. She guessed immediately what was going on — mothers often know their children better than their children know themselves.

Phil was studying at the kitchen table, waiting on the collect call from Darnell as usual, when his mother confronted him and forced him out of the closet.

“I know what is going on — you plan to run away with Darnell,” she said, her eyes brimming with tears of love and sympathy. “I see you mooning around this house waiting on him to call. It’s obvious what is going on. It’s breaking my heart to see you like this.”

“Baby, you have to live your life and you have a lot of life to live. You have to finish college and make a better life than your father and me did.”

Darnell’s family found out too. You see, Darnell came home on leave for a month before shipping out to California. At the airport he cried so long and hard when he was saying goodbye to Phil that a blind man could see the two were in love.

Darnell’s grandmother narrowed her eyes looking at the spectacle and sucked her teeth. Darnell had already urged her to write a letter to the Army making up an excuse so he could be honorably discharged and come home. Now she knew why.

“A few days later his grandmother wrote me a letter demanding I sever ties with Darnell,” Phil said. “She said homosexuality was wrong and quoted all these Bible passages.”

The pressure from the two families worked. The two broke up.

“It wouldn’t have worked anyway,” Phil said. “After California the military was shipping Darnell to South Korea. I couldn’t follow him overseas. Remember, these were in the days way before President Clinton’s ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’ Policy. I would have jeopardized Darnell’s military career by following him around.”

So years passed. Darnell married a woman but soon divorced her and came out of the closet. Phil got over his first love and developed other relationships and moved away from New Orleans. But the two remained friends, although mostly the extent of the relationship today is keeping up with each other on Facebook.

Q: Okay readers tell me about your first love!