Florida Swinging: Terrell

My partner “Van” and I met “Terrell” a few years ago at Blatino Oasis at the nudist Santiago Resort in Palm Springs.

Terrell, 31, who hails from Homestead, Fla., is a kept boy. His boyfriend, or should I say patron, is “Gerard,”a wealthy, 70-year-old white man.

Gerard owns several homes in Miami and Fort Lauderdale and he flies Terrell around the world, to Spain, to Mykonos, London and even Brazil.

Yet I don’t envy Terrell, despite the fact he drives around in a BMW hard-topped convertible probably financed by Gerard.

What if Gerard gets tired of his boy toy? Or Heaven forbid dies and leaves Terrell with nothing? Terrell says he doesn’t even take Gerard around his peeps, who may know Terrell is gay but never bring it up.

I hung around with Terrell by the pool in Palm Springs. He had the best weed. We just vibed on each other’s company – he saw Van and I lounging around nude but we didn’t even so much as flirt with him

“Come on Immanuel. Let’s get high,” he would say while Gerard looked on approvingly from a patio table where he sat sipping his morning coffee and reading the paper.

And I as I puffed the blunt I would look at them and wonder how they got together. The handsome, golden-complexioned, street wise Miami boy and the wiry, slight white man.

Terrell still lives in Miami and one day he hit me up on Grindr, opened up his private pics, and we recognized each other. When I come down to Van’s place in Hollywood we always say we will hang out but never do.

But this morning he hit us up and said he wanted to get high and get fucked and watch me fuck Van. And get pics and videos.

So he came by the condo, we lit up one of his blunts, and we did that thing. Here are some pics and a video clip:

Take a pic before you go

“Roger” had been hitting us up online for months and asked whether my partner and I were finally free to play the Saturday after Thanksgiving.

“I have to run a few errands first,” he said.

I thought he was bluffing and Van and I went about our day and thought nothing of it.

But he showed up as night fell, a handsome light-skinned brother with a beautiful body.

In fact when he walked in I realized I already had seen him – he works out at the same L.A. Fitness we do.

Van and I took turns tag-teaming his bubble butt. It was fun. He was loud and passionate and enthusiastic. And he seemed to be a genuinely nice guy.

After sex Van and I admired his body as he dressed.

“We got to have your picture,” Van said.


I grabbed my phone and shot a pic of his fabulous ass.

“Now turn around,” Van requested.

And I took a second from the front.

Here they are:


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.



Is My Straight Best Friend Really Gay?

Photo courtesy of Nairaland Forum.

“Jeremy” and I have been friends for more than 30 years.

He was my brother’s friend in college.  Jeremy would come home to our house weekends since he was from Los Angeles and couldn’t get back to California often. And he loved my Mom’s home cooking.

So we started hanging out and soon he was closer to me than he was to my brother. My Mom called him her “Other Son.” Heck, they still talk on the phone from time to time.

Jeremy and I traveled together. Hit the clubs together most every weekend. And fought like cats and dogs but were thick as thieves the next day because that’s how friends do.

He was always the ladies’ man. Always pulled the girls while I almost exclusively dated my ex-wife. Now 34 years later he is divorced twice and recently broke up with a law school student young enough to be our daughter.

But I always wondered whether he could be curious about being gay. Or if he was already playing with men.

After I separated from my wife I was on business travel to Los Angeles and hung out with him. We were in the food court of a Walmart in South-central, eating at a Chinese buffet. I cleared my throat and confessed.

“Hey I just want to be honest with you and let you know I’m gay now.”

He didn’t miss a beat.

“Immanuel, I always thought you could be gay. Don’t worry about it.”

And we just kept talking like nothing happened.

Then I remembered way back in the late 80’s the things he would do.

Like we would go to the gay nightclub Traxx on “Straight Night” Tuesdays and one time he kiddingly tried to pull me on the dance floor like we were a couple while a group of women nearby gawked.

One week we hopped in my Nissan, pulled off the T-top and drove to Montreal. And when we got to the hotel room we shared he lay back on the bed and pulled his legs up in the air and jokingly said, “Come and get it” like he wanted me to fuck him.

And how, even though we were hanging out with girls we met there, Jeremy made it a point of taking me out alone to a fancy French restaurant to celebrate my birthday. And when we walked back to the hotel he put his arms around me as we walked the dark, cobblestone streets of Vieux Montreal.

Like what straight black man does that to his friend?

Thirty years later the hints keep dropping.

This Spring we were texting and he bragged casually about how big his dick is. Like what straight black man does this to his friend, especially one he knows is gay?

I just ignored it. Although in hindsight I wish I had asked him to send a pic so we could compare dick size.

Then in June he texted me to say he broke up again with the young girlfriend.

“So you know I broke up with Marlene. Bruh, the gays are all over me now. LOL!”

“Come get your mens Negro.”

I just played it off. Jeremy, a handsome, slightly thick pecan-brown brother with wavy graying hair, was always a joker. So I kidded back.

“When you get ready to try gay holler..I will pay for your gay training academy tuition lol.”

But I wondered. What straight black man would text something like that in the same text message to announce he broke up with a woman he had been dating for at least two years? And were Jeremy’s jokes hiding his true feelings?

My partner “Van” and I visited Los Angeles in August when I went out on business and we had drinks with Jeremy at Kitchen 24 in West Hollywood’s Boys Town. A guy we had hooked up with, “Devin” (Picking him up off the street in Los Angeles), was with us.

Devin, Van and I are gay but the conversation was about the hot mess that is Donald Trump, life on the East Coast versus West Coast and other stuff. It was Jeremy — the lone straight man in the quartet — who kept inserting gay into the conversation.

“You know I work out in this gym and there are a lot of gay guys there. They keep trying to look at this big dick. Shit man, I can even go to the sauna without somebody hitting on me.”

Devin, Van and I just laughed and changed the subject. I think I glanced across the table to get Van’s reaction. I knew he wanted to go all up and down Jeremy with questions but he didn’t — it was their first time meeting so I gathered Van wanted to be polite and make a good impression on my best buddy.

Later after Jeremy left Van said he probably is gay-curious and might have already tasted the Rainbow. So Van said the next time Jeremy traveled East I had permission to try to seduce him.

That was a good idea but I didn’t wait. Devin seemed interested in Jeremy so I gave each of them the other’s number.

“Hey Devin seemed cool but you know I’m not gay, right,” Jeremy said. “But I don’t mind hanging out with him if it’s at an event or something.”

Okay, we will see how this goes.



The Nigerian

Protest in London against homophobia in Nigeria. Photo courtesy of the London Evening Post.

The Nigerian is 30 years old and is here visiting family. I met him on Grindr.

He is beautiful to behold, with a handsome, oval face and slight, tight body.

He has flawless deep ebony skin that is smooth as a baby because he grows so little body hair.

He is just a mile away so he has become a regular, dropping by to get as much dick as he can before he goes home.

Because being gay in Nigeria is no joke…it can literally get you arrested or even killed.

The Christians in southern Nigeria persecute people who are LGBT. And so do the Muslims in the north.

Newspapers will run gossip articles exposing you.

There is no way to run, he says.

His first male sex was with  a teacher at the boy’s school he attended as a teenager. Which was molestation since he was not at the age of consent.

Now he must find partners in Nigeria and have sex as clandestinely as possible because anybody can report you and have you arrested.

He is also under suspicion because he is grown and has not married and had children. He does not even have a girlfriend.

“I refuse to get married,” the Nigerian said, explaining that despite the dangers he will remain as true to himself as he can.

I feel sorry for him, admire his bravery and wish he could enjoy the same liberties as same gender loving men in the United States.

But until he leaves we will make his visit as enjoyable as possible.

Here are some video clips and photos of him and my partner “Van” and I playing with him:

Video Clip 1

Video Clip 2

Picking him up off the street in Los Angeles

Boys Town in Los Angeles. Photo from Youtube.

I was on business in Los Angeles a month ago and my partner “Van” tagged along.

As usual we stayed in a hotel on Santa Monica Boulevard in Boys Town so we could walk to The Abbey and the other bars. Or hit Kitchen 24, where you can get a waffle, Caesar salad or a bowl of chili at any time of night.

To celebrate a successful trip Van and I got pedicures and manicures. I got done before Van so decided to run down to a shop a few blocks away to buy some novelty socks that a friend back at home wanted.

That’s when I ran into “Devin” in the intersection  of Santa Monica and Hancock Avenue. A tall, dark-skinned, slender brother with sharp features. He was walking his Jack Russell terrier and the feisty dog had run around his legs and tangled him up in its leash right in the middle of the street.

It was a funny sight but also sexy because Devin’s shirt was open and you could see his broad chest and skin so smooth it looked like Hershey’s chocolate.

“Umm, handsome guy,” I thought, catching his eyes briefly. Then I went about my business. So many black men in West Hollywood are into white men I didn’t think he was interested.

A few hours later I caught up with Van and he said he flirted with a tall, dark-skinned guy on the street, mentioned that he was here with his boyfriend, and that we were in an open relationship and played with others. He said the guy was on his way to a friend’s house party but wanted to come by later and play.

Devin’s torso. Told you it was nice.

By Van’s description I figured out it was Devin. It had to be the same guy.

Devin dropped by when night fell and we had drinks with him and a  buddy of mine who lives in Los Angeles. I walked my buddy to the car while Van and Devin went to our room to get started.

By the time I got there 15 minutes later Van and Devin were already half-dressed and groping each other. Devin was hot — he had modeled and had a beautiful, lean frame and high, tight ass. His was slightly bow-legged, which was hot, too.

We started hugging and kissing and then Devin gave Van and me head. Then Van slid on a condom and opened his ass. And then I took my turn. It went on like that for more than an hour. He loved taking dick and acted like he couldn’t get enough.

We had to sneak Devin’s dog into the hotel room in his backpack. Every so often the sounds of us making love would get him to barking in the bathroom. But luckily the hotel didn’t find out we had a dog in the room.

After we all nutted we fell asleep in the bed — all four of us. Van, me, Devin in the middle, and his dog at the foot. And we woke up and went to breakfast and then we dropped Devin off in Inglewood on the way to the airport and went back home.

I think we made a friend.

“Would love to see you guys again soon,” he texted us today.



Picking Up Trade

NY Knicks baller J.R. Smith. The guy we picked up looked somewhat like him.

He was hanging outside of the “Drinkery,” a gay bar on West Read Street, a few months ago. Just standing in the silvery glow of a street lamp.

My partner “Van” and I were parking at the Drinkery, running in to get a quick nightcap on a Friday night. He saw us and called over.

“Hey handsome. What’s up with you?”

“Hey I’m good.”

“Are you looking? I can go home with you.”

“I already have a dude,” I said. “And he is right here.”

So Van and I went inside and didn’t pay him no more mind. But when we came out about an hour later he was still there. And very insistent.

So I turned to Van and said, “Why not? Let’s take him home.”

Dude was handsome. Brown-skinned and about five feet 10. Nice chest. Nice arms. Tatted up. About 30 years old. Thuggish as hell. He might be nice to play with.

So I drove and I put him in the passenger seat and Van sat in the backseat. That way if he acted up we could grab him from two sides and whip his ass.

On the way home he bragged about how big his dick was and how good he was at sex.

And he told us a little bit of his story. He had just broke up with his girlfriend  because she found out he liked to fuck everything on two legs, including dudes. He had several kids.

I think he had even gone to prison. He might have even been on parole, living in a cheap hotel. He sounded high, or drunk or both.

We thought he wanted to play for free but he soon made it clear he was escorting.

So we negotiated the price for his services. — $80 for a threesome. I pulled over at the Royal Farms on the way home to get the money out of the ATM.

When we got him back to my spot we had to tell him to shush because he was still running his mouth like crazy. He was so loud the neighbors could hear.

I took a shower and he pulled off his clothes and hopped in with me. He wanted to get down and suck my dick or have me suck his dick under the warm water but hell we picked him off the streets — there was no way we were going to play with him without a condom.

We finally got him in bed. But he kept jabbering away, probably because he was still high.

And his dick was not as big as he claimed. And it didn’t get hard. And then he threw his muscular, brown legs up in the air and asked us to eat his ass.

The proceedings stopped. No way were we going to pay to service him. We were paying him to have good sex with us. And it was obvious he was not so good at this escorting thing.

So I got up and pulled on my gym shorts and said I would drive him back to the Drinkery.

He got mad. “I really need the money. You said $80.”

“$80 for what?”

I glanced over at Van. We could fuck this nigger up if we wanted but I was not messing up my house.

“Look, I’ll give you $40 for your time. But you gotta go. I will drive you.”

“Nah, that’s okay. I’ll walk.”

And we escorted him out the door, shut it behind him, and turned on the alarm.

Now every time I go to the Drinkery I look to see if he is hanging around outside. But I haven’t seen him since.