The Sex That Ruined My Life

We can get sexual
No one has to know
About you and me
He won’t know, she won’t know about us

We can get sexual
Just give me a call
And we’ll be on
On the down low baby
Chico Debarge – Sexual

It was a calm night, but I could hear passion through the walls. The headboard kept banging against the wall. I reached for my phone to send a text message.

“I hear her screaming…you inside her. It’s nothing compared to what I’m gonna do to you tonight.”

Several hour later, in the thick of night, I heard a faint knock at the door. I let him in and locked it behind me. He could see my hard on through my track pants. I began to rub it.

“You know what to do.”

He dropped to his knees and went to work.

Admittedly, I’ve had sex with many straight-identified men before, but this was the first time I knew the female other half. All the other times the wife/girlfriend/baby’s mama was back in the country of origin.

I would see her out in town and small talk ensued. I wondered, “Does she know? Does she suspect?”

It’s also important to know I didn’t start this relationship. One day I was sleep: dead to the world. I was in the middle of an amazing dream when I was awoken by a knock at the door.

“Hello?”

I was half asleep. He walked in and posted up against the wall. He was shaking, I thought someone was dead.

“What’s wrong?” I muttered, still not completely conscious. It took him a good three minutes to find the words.

“I was wondering…

…if I could practice fellatio on you?”

Huh? Out of everything I suspected, I never saw that one coming. I was conflicted: I wasn’t mentally prepared to deal with this again. But in the moment I just went with my instincts.

“Sure!”
He must’ve known I slept naked. By the time I could get the word out he removed the comforter and engulfed me in his mouth. You could smell the coke on his breathe. I threw my head back and starred at the ceiling.

I had so many questions. Having sex with a straight-identified man when you’re the bottom is one thing, but when they’re taking the submissive role it’s a whole different bag of tricks. Was I really fucking the quarterback?

If you can get it
It’s worth a try
I really want it
I can’t deny
It’s just desire
I really love it
‘Cause if it’s aching
You have to rub it
Michael Jackson – In the Closet

Over time the novelty of it all became an inside joke. I used past relationships as a blueprint. Always maintain leverage, always leave them wanting more. I had become the men I dated before, but it was much more fun on the other side. There was a level of domination and power I never experienced before…and I liked it.

Grasshopper was eager to learn and please his teacher. We fought when I would try to push his limits: he was focused on an oral arrangement, but I needed that ass. When it became clear I was only game if I got what I wanted, he took heed and tried to keep up with the Jones. I would get random text messages at odd hours:

“Hey, I just had a dick sucking contest with three girls and placed second!”
“Nice. Come home and show daddy some of your new tricks.”

He would see me out with my gay-identified friends. He knew I had other options. Jealousy can be be a great motivator if wielded properly.

The interesting thing with being opening gay and “masculine” is you tend to attract a certain type of man whether you want to or not. Being a sex researcher adds another layer to it also. If a man can share his deepest darkest secrets with you and you be able to maintain his trust he begins to realize he can also share his body with you without consequences.

But there were consequences. This was slowly becoming a public health nightmare. HIV wasn’t really an issue (we always used protection), but I was worried about other STIs.

The larger implications of this little experiment was also troubling. I began to realize secret sex is inherently the best kind:

it’s exciting
a little dirty, a little primal
unpredictable
and best of all (just a little bit) dangerous.

We almost got caught a couple of times, but those were probably the best sessions. Ultimately, I couldn’t do it anymore. After all I am gay: I had lust in abundance, but I wanted to be in love.

But when I’m sexually frustrated…when I’m feeling some kind of way, he’s the one I think about. He’s the one my body yearns for.

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