Tag Archives: bisexuality

2012 Year in Review

2013

What an interesting year!

I really didn’t write as often as I wanted to in 2012. I attribute that to my (unsuccessful) attempt at securing a husband. But I did have some quality posts last year.

Surprisingly, Preferences, Pride and Prejudice (Part 1 of 2) became one of my most popular posts ever. I’ve held the follow-up to reflect on dating an API man for the last two years and re-examine my own bias. I think I’m ready to restart that conversation.

Trouble in Paradise was fun and probably my favorite. I still giggle at that nonsense. SMH.

As Richard pointed out, no one wanted to have the date rape/sexual assault conversation. Really disappointing actually. I got some really good (off the record) feedback on it though.

Love on Top was fun as well. We’re gonna have some more fun with audio this year.

Highlights
Hawaii – definitely going back soon
Finally seeing Fiona Apple live (twice!)
Bill O’Reilly staring me down at the Anita Baker concert. Pure comedy.
Meeting Chris Crocker and Tim Ferriss, among others.
Attending Oprah’s Lifeclass and seeing her work her magic in person.

2012 Quotes of the Year
[Trent having a core meltdown]
He always wants to get fucked.
He always wants to get fucked.
Straight boys always want to get fucked! ::ugh::
[Me] You say it like it’s a bad thing!

Woke up to a miss call from my probation officer!! freaking out a lil.
Always did like my trade rough around the edges

No refractory period
Marry me Cory Koons

Still remember my ex’s Netflix password
Danielle really is #winning

What happened to monogamy?
When you find him, let me know Teejay

Twitter is where I come to see gays with questionable income sources wax condescendingly about the finer things in life. Good times.
the alex via Twitter

No homo but Beyonce so fine I’d suck Jay-Z’s dick just to taste her pussy.
I’m sure this makes sense to someone

There needs to be a Cancer survivor’s group and I’m NOT talking about the disease!
(zing!)

Wait, I’m assuming you only date women?
I date anyone who’s not a shithead.
(Bisexuality week coming soon)

The war on drugs didn’t fail, it successfully locked up a huge chunk of the black population in the United States.
Ferrari Sheppard via Twitter

I’m so glad I’m in my thirties.
Will McNair

Quotes of the Week: Special Frank Ocean Edition

Ill Doctrine: Frank Ocean’s Independence Day from ANIMALNewYork.com on Vimeo.

I have experienced this. And I have loved him.
Jay Smooth (Animal/Ill Doctrine)

Frank Ocean is triflin! He was trying to take that girl’s man.
As told to Pharaohc1ous

I thought Ocean might just be playing with characters when I first heard his songs using male pronouns. In a sense, he is — but in the same way that anyone on the down low does. The character you create may be your own tragically false self.
Ann Powers (NPR)

Being gay in the black community is still frowned on. The black community has a lot of growing to do. We really really do.
The Skorpion Kevin Simmons via Twitter

At least Frank Ocean had the courage to come out. You’d be surprised, some of these rappers are so far in the closet they’re in Narnia.
Novel via Twitter (and he would know!)

I commend Frank Ocean for coming out and saying it, but it’s not a first because there’s plenty of black male gay singers. Even when they don’t admit it, you kind of know. If you heard somebody like… I don’t want to say a name, because people will talk… but like somebody in the Wu-Tang Clan or something, if they came out then that would be groundbreaking. That would be totally challenging.
color Chuck D unimpressed

The glory of Ocean’s “coming out,” is that he never used the words “gay” or “bisexual.” The New Orleans native only described love between two people. His choice of language was paramount: Sexual orientation must be acknowledged beyond the labels and above the groin.
Clay Cane (HuffPost Gay Voices)

There is “coming out” and there is “I love this man.”

The former allows heterosexuals to feel good about themselves; it creates space, otherness, between “straight” love and “gay” or “queer” love; it maintains the status quo.

The latter, meanwhile, is a declarative statement devoid of labels. It is expression. It is — to sound slightly trite — a human thing to say. Love is love; there is no otherness; the status quo is threatened, if not outright attacked.

There is no shame in declaring one’s love for another.
Mensah Demary (Thought Catalog)

Frank Ocean gay, this nigga gettin endorsements, more sales, etc. Bitch! Only thing I got when I came out was condoms & HIV brochures.
AmazinXai with a good point

Peace to Frank Ocean and all of us trying to be fully self actualized and free.
Josie Pickens via Twitter

Every single one of us is born with peace and tranquility in our heart. Frank just found his.
Russell Simmons (Global Grind)

My son is brave and honest and I am very proud of him. I wish more people in the world could be brave enough to be who they really are.
Frank’s mom Katonya Breaux Riley via Twitter

But you’re not an activist. You’re a Black man in America whose star is on the rise, working in hip-hop and soul, where gender constructs are cartoonishly fixed.
dream hampton (Life and Times)

People must come to recognize that gay and bisexual people also have hearts, emotions, relationships that are just as significant as anyone else’s. I hate that we still have to fight to get folks to see that in 2012…
Jamilah Lemieux (Ebony.com)

The courage he displayed in his beautiful and eloquent letter was touching on many levels. Frank broke down a wall that should never have been built. The overwhelming show of support from his peers was awesome and inspiring. Island Def Jam is so proud to stand beside Frank Ocean — the artist and man — now and always.
Island Def Jam President Joie Manda

Hopefully, in the wake of his letter, the urban community will fully embrace Ocean for his honesty and bravery. It’s impossible he’s alone.
Gerrick D. Kennedy (LA Times)

The world accepted R. Kelly after peeing on a little girl.
The world accepted Chris Brown after beating on his girlfriend Rihanna.
Will we accept Frank Ocean after him writing about his first love being a man?
Wes (AconnectionTV)

You never lose when you live your truth.
Charlamagne Tha God (power 105.1 The Breakfast Club)

Trouble in Paradise

“I want your warm but it’ll only make me colder when it’s over. So I can’t tonight baby.”
– Fiona Apple: Love Ridden

I only do drugs when I’m trying to have sex with a guy.

It’s how its always been. DARE worked for me (just say no kids!), and I’d rather spend my hard earned money on electronics than nickel bags.

The first time I smoked weed was with a coworker. Oh he was beautiful. He would’ve gotten down too, but I was too young and inexperienced to seduce him and I think he was hesitant cause he was really good friends with my sister.

Ecstasy gave me a really bad headache. I think it was laced with something. Never again.

I’ve tried it all (at least once). But nothing seemed to live up to the hype…except cocaine. Cocaine is one hell of a drug. You feel all tingly, like you can conquer the world. So when he sat down and smiled I knew I was in trouble.

I was back down at the beach to see my last sunset in Waikiki. There’s this little walkway called “The Wall” where the skateboarders hang and the kids boogieboard. I sat down and looked around. He instantly caught my eye. A hint of crack led down to his board shorts; pelon, brown skin, just the right amount of muscle. He turned around for a second then continues to the end of the stroll with his friend. I continue watching the sunset.

I’m checking out the shots on my iPhone when he returns. He sits down and starts talking before I even know what’s going on.

“What’s up man, how are you doing?” (His smile could melt a tiki torch…sigh)
“I’m good man, enjoying my vacation. How are you doing tonight?”

He explains he has some issues: he just got out of jail and he thinks his girlfriend is cheating on him.

The first rule of trade (especially when you don’t have backup) is to find out what they’ve ever been locked up for so you know what the potential is for the night to get violent. He was in for unpaid skateboarding tickets (LMAO). At this point I know God is testing me.

We talk for another few minutes; he’s from Virginia, but has been here for ten years. Every so often he stops to say hello to someone. He seems to know everybody. I give him my phone and he pulls up a video of him jumping off The Wall when he was 18. He chastises me for spelling “nigga” wrong.

“Where are you from?”
“New York.”
“You ain’t from New York!”
(I laugh) “Cause I use proper English?”

A little more interrogation and it’s clear I’m from Long Island and not Bedstuy. I refuse to apologize for having a backyard growing up, but he’s proud of himself for being so insightful. I’m trying not to stare at his exposed chest when he drops the first hint.

“I use to escort…”
“Yeah? For men or for women?”
“For men. They used to take me all around the world.”

This happens more often than I like to admit. People tell me sexual stories even before I have a chance to tell them what I do.

All men who aren’t really gay but have gay sex have what I like to call the “trophy client.” It’s that one time they got so much money for something so random it’s the story they always tell first because the pride in making easy money beats the shame in having sex with another man. Patriarchy at its best really. His smile radiates as he reminisces.

“This guy gave me $200 just to pee on him.”
“No way! $200 bucks?!” (Even if you’re not surprised you have to act all excited like when a boy learns to tie his shoe laces for the first time)
“Yeah man, just to pee on him…”

He pauses for a minute to acknowledge how much he’s enjoying this conversation.

“You remind me of my best friend back home man. He was gay, but he wouldn’t tell me. My uncle would always tell me growing up, ‘You know that boy gay right?’ But he would never tell me. When he finally did years later I was like ‘Tell me something I don’t know man! I knew that already.’ He was afraid we wouldn’t be boys no more. Isn’t that crazy? I loved him man, I didn’t care. He would always help me out…”

“He give you advice, help you with your girlfriend?”
“Yeah man, all that stuff.” He smiles again, transported back to simpler times.

I, however wanted to cry. Ironically, I had just gotten the same speech the day before. In undergrad, I inadvertently became really close to this Hawaiian exchange student; really butch dude, MMA fighter, the masculine of the masculine.

We spent a year doing everything together, but right at the end he stopped talking to me when he accidently found me in bed with another man. No gay bashing, no “faggot this, faggot that,” he just stopped talking to me. I always knew he didn’t personally have a problem with homosexuality, but all these years with no closure and the damage was already done. It took eight years on this random vacation to get an apology.

I’m convinced most straight-identified men don’t have openly gay friends because they don’t know how to. We only teach men how to fuck and fight in this country, nothing in between. I digress.

Little does redbone know he reminds me of someone too. Trouble, this guy I met when I worked at that site (absolutely NSFW). I was smitten, we would flirt incessantly, but I couldn’t bring myself to take the plunge because I knew I couldn’t keep him. These kind of guys you have for while, but you don’t keep. That’s why I call them trouble. Only this time, it was trouble in paradise.

“You wanna have some fun tonight? Let’s go.”
He gets up and starts walking.
“Where?!”
I’ve seen this movie, I know how it ends, but I’m not ready to say goodbye just yet. I follow him to the street. He puts his hands around my waist. I secretly melt inside.

“Let’s do a little coke man. Loosen me up and we’ll have a good time.”
“Na man I’m good.”
“Well, do you mind if I do some?”
“Na, do you man.”

Two things I don’t pay for any more: cocaine and abortions. But I don’t mind supporting other people in these ventures when it’s not my money.

We walk back down the stroll and pickup a lackey along the way. There’s always a lackey. White guy from Chicago. He’s only been in Hawaii for a month.

Trouble leans in to sweeten the deal. “He’s down too if you want man.”

As I contemplate my options I see lackey hand Trouble a pill. They argue over what it is. I know this can’t go anywhere good.

Truth is I had been looking for Trouble all week. There’s not really a gay scene here in Honolulu; the bars are smaller than my apartment and filled with random breeder tourists. Grindr and the other sites proved unhelpful. I was just looking to get to know someone and chill. Be careful what you wish for.

No more burn, but I did have a bottle of wine and one more night in paradise. Ten years ago I would’ve gotten him his drugs, invited them back to my timeshare and fun would be had indeed. He’d do a line off my belly, we’d fuck for hours…I’d look deep in his eyes as he came inside me. I could taste the cum on my tongue just thinking about it.

But truth is that Tony no longer exists (for various reasons). So when I saw Lackey duck into an ABC store and Trouble hitting on the Japanese girls I slipped into the crowd and made my exit.

I panicked for a second and almost went back. When did I get so boring? What’s the worse that could happen?

Then I remembered that drug-resistant gonorrhea that’s floating around Japan. Oh well.

At least I got a good picture of the sunset.

lastsunset.JPG

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.