My photo
Read my blog, listen to my shows, read my books...then you'll know me. Thanks.


If Your Girl Only Knew, Part One

I'll be the first person to not only tell, but admit to you, that most gay men can identify with a series of one night stands strung together that often times, turn into long-term sexual encounters that can stretch the length of an actual "relationship" with all of the emotional calisthenics trappings versus an actual, committed or long-term relationship. This includes me as well. We all know that our bodies make commitments whether we want to or not.

Which brings me to one of my latest dates, mysterio. I should have known there would have been some shit with him. I met him after a musical performance. I was in the V.I.P. area with my manager after his set, scoping the scene, not looking for anything in particular. He caught my eye, but there was nothing behind it. Besides, I was waiting on my friend to finish signing autographs. It had been a while since I had seen him and he really had no idea that I had moved from L.A. to New York. I had mentioned to my manager, I thought Mysterio was cute, but that was it, I didn't think that he'd actually come over and start talking to me.

Next thing I knew, he was in my face.

"Hey, how are you? Did you say you were with Tommy?"
"Ugh. Yeah. I'm with him." I responded casually, but i was thinking, when did I say I was with Tommy?
"Can you make sure he gets these. It's my CD  I play the guitar."
"Oh. Okay. Cool. I'll be sure, he gets them..." I replied nicely putting my hand out, for him to introduce himself, even though I could have looked at the CD to get his name.
"Trent. Nice to meet you. Do you perform out here a lot?"
"A few places."
"Okay. Cool. I just moved here from L.A. I need some new spots to go to."
"Nice. L.A. thats a big move. What do you do?" He asked me, becoming more interested.

That let me know, right there that he was an opportunist. Even if he wasn't completely one, or the fact that he was even charming. I knew that i should have been having a limited in conversation. He already knew I was closely associated with someone who was a celebrity. A notable one at that. Besides that, I observed my manager warding off a lesbionic hanger-on who was trying to get at her. They seemed to be flocking to us that night. Groupies, they're always lingering around somewhere.

The more I talked to Mysterio he was intriguing me. I looked down at his hand and saw his ring finger, i knew he was married, so that already at put him off limits. Even though I knew he was flirting with  me, I just thought he was being nice, in my mind, he was straight.

"I'm a writer."
"Oh, Music? Film?"
"I'm working on a few projects right now. Novel, T.V. script, some music." I replied casually.
"Thats cool. How do you know Tommy?"
"We've been friends for a minute. We met backstage at a show one night."

I didn't tell him our entire history. How I had been privy to Tommy's personal life, been to his house, hung out with he and his mom, smoked weed, wrote some music and just were friends on the most platonic level possible, even though people assumed Tommy was gay. He wasn't. But he was very much aware that most of his audience was made up of gay men. He didn't care much about that. He cared about putting out his music and doing what he loved to do.

"Oh okay. You have a contact number Trent?" he asked me.
"Sure." I handed him my card.
"How long have you been here?"
"A couple of months." I responded nonchalantly.
"You liking it?"
"It is what it is. New York isn't my favorite place. It's definitely for work purposes only."
"So you moving back to L.A. when you're done?"
"No. I'm an east coast boy now. I'm over L.A. I need something a little more authentic."
"I hear ya. Where in the city are you at?"
"Uptown. Lexington Ave"
"Oh okay. Cool. It was nice meeting you Trent."
"You too."

My manger and I debriefed on the way back to my condo - I didn't think anything of it. But i wasn't expecting to hear from him again either.

Three weeks ago, he sent me an email. An email that didn’t alarm me. It was simple. It wasn’t bromantic, it wasn’t lightweight homoerotic in any sense. It was inviting me out to show that he was having at some jazz club in Harlem. I went. I didn’t tell anyone. I just got up and went. And I enjoyed myself.

When I got in, the place was a few steps above a hole in the wall - it was air conditioned and the vibe was right. The room was filled with earthy, borderline homosexual men that could easily pass for straight. Some with their girlfriends, casually hanging on by a string and the other couples seemed more solidified in their agreement. 

The lights came up. He had a certain authentic star quality about him. He was attractive and this time there was no ring on his finger. His set was remnant of that scene from The Best Man, except he wasn’t playing music with a spanish flair. It was more of a heavy, deep, neo-soul sound that carried a story. The Patron shots and the blunt i took in relaxed me more than I needed to be, for his music was like the sun setting and the water crashing against the shore.

He recognized me. He said it with his eyes. Thats when I knew what was up. 

After his set he immediately got off stage and came to greet me while by-passing several of his fans.

“Hey thanks for coming.” He said while intently looking me in my eyes
“No prob. I met my goal for the night - so i had to get out of the house.” I replied.
“Cool. What are you doing after this?” He wanted to know.
“Cool. Let me tie up some stuff. You mind waiting for me, we can get a drink.”

After everything calmed down, he casually came over to me, giving me that look, letting me know that he was grateful that I came thru.

“So did you enjoy the set?”
“Yeah. It felt like I was watching Terence Howard in The Best Man.”
“You’re crazy.” He replied laughing at me. “You know any good bars?” He continued.
“No, not really. The only one i know is on Roosevelt Island.”
“Roosevelt Island? Who goes there?” He replied sarcastically.
“Thats where I live dork.” I shot back.
“Let’s go there.” He replied.

We made our way to the F line. The line had become my regular vehicle to and from civilization. We remained silent on the 30 minute ride that was always comforting to me. When we came above ground, I suggested that we go up to my apartment to put his guitar down while we tore  the bar down, downstairs.

I had never invited anyone to my apartment other than my manager and best-friend from high school and of course the weed man, which I usually met downstairs, so we could actually smoke a blunt on one of the many benches that lined the island, that sat facing the East River. When we walked in, there was a hint of reefer still lingering in the air.

“You got some more smoke?” He asked me.
“What kind of question is that. I’m a writer. I’m from L.A. Weed is apart of my regimen.” I replied smartly.
“Spark it up.”
“So no drinks. It’s one or the other. I can’t get too messed up.” I replied.
“Lets go have a drink or two. We’ll smoke the blunt outside on one of the benches.”

We made our trek down to from the 20th floor. Walked down the street to the bar and talked about music. The way technology has taken over our society and what it was like to actually have conversations with people and not their facebook pages or a text message. We bonded for a second. We understood each other and for once, it was cool just to have a conversation with him, but I kept telling myself, he was straight.

After 4 Patron margaritas and a Corona, it was 2 a.m. We went out to the bench closest to my apartment and I sparked the blunt.

It was quiet for a minute, except for the water of the East River flowing through at it’s natural pace.

As I passed him the blunt, his finger slightly grazed my hand. I looked at him. He took the blunt and took a pull of it, while still looking at me. I looked down at his dick like clockwork and saw his pants bounce back. Then it became clear to me, that if you get a presumed heterosexual man high and drunk, anything can and will happen. I then felt like I was in Janet Jackson’s lets wait a while video.

The blunt was over. 

He kissed me. His tongue stroked mine as I felt it slide deeper down my throat. I pulled his head and I forced his mouth deeper with mine, I instinctively fell back, he was on top of me. We were two black men, in the open kissing on the bench. It was perfect. It was romantic, it was  the connection, everything was right.

“Damn that felt good.” He said coming up for air.
I smiled, “Word?” I asked.
“I haven’t had a kiss like that, since...” He said actually thinking about the answer. “I can’t even remember.”
“Let’s go upstairs.” I suggested. 

He got off of me. I took his hand and led him the back way into my building. We were quiet. Barely making eye contact. When I got to the elevators, I could feel the intensity of his throbbing pulse push through his body. I could feel his heart racing through his chest.

When the doors opened, we walked in. As soon as the doors closed I threw him against the wall, groping his dick through his pants, quickly finding my way to his zipper so I could get a feel of what was inside his pants. I liked it. So much that i saw that we were only on the 7th floor and had 13 more floors to go. Enough time for me to get down on my knees in submission and let him feel some of the warmth of my mouth.

He slammed his head against the wall as soon as he felt my mouth take him down my throat. He let out an alarming moan that let me know he was enjoying the brief flicker of my tongue.

“Fuck.” He yelled out.

I stopped just in time before the door opened. I didn’t put him up. I simply grinded my ass against him, covering him up, just in case someone was there. But what he didn’t know is that there were only three people that lived on my floor. One was out of town, the other was a reclusive artist that was always busy at work these hours of the morning herself. I knew we were safe, which is why i pulled him by his dick to my door, that i left unlocked.

We started kissing as soon as we walked through the threshold of my door. He took of his shirt and exposed his bronzed colored nipples that were hiding under his loose V-Neck that was the perfect casual jet off to his grown and sexy look.

I found my way from his mouth, down to his neck, around his nipples, down his happy trail, over his six pack, down to his bare pubic area that was freshly shaven. I undid his pants and took him in my mouth. 

He stopped me, taking his pants all the way off, enjoying every minute of his pulsating dick pumping my face, while his balls slapped my chin.

I found my way around to his ass, while casually finding my way to his tight manhole, that he didn’t mind me playing with.

“I don’t want to cum” he said out of breath as he pushed me off of him. He looked at me in my eye and got on his knees. He pulled my pants down and without hesitation and aggressively pulled me in his mouth. I grabbed the back of his head and had my way with his mouth, right when I felt his tongue hit the base of my balls. He took them in his mouth, it made me squat over his face in ecstasy, when i felt his tongue slide between my cheeks. 

I got up and led him to my room.

I promptly laid on my stomach and allowed him to continue tasting me from behind. He told me to sit on his face. I obliged while sucking his dick from the front. I couldn't concentrate on enjoying his thick, dick that filled my mouth because he was providing the best distraction of his tongue deep inside of me. I wanted to gush all over the place, but he was teaching me to control my release, because he simply had me open.

I couldn’t help it. I released, letting out a sigh of relief. As soon as came up from his bare crotch, he shot on the air. He landed on my back and my neck and the warmth of his soup turned me on. 

I got from over him and laid on my back. He followed suit and laid next to me. There was silence. Heavy breathing and a lot of body contact. We fell asleep in each others arms. It was 3:45 a.m. Sunday morning.

30 minutes later, I felt his mouth on me. He was aggressive about waking me up. When I opened my eyes, his honey colored ass was in my face. And I already knew to return the favor and slowly slide my tongue inside of him. He couldn’t take it. He stopped sucking my dick and enjoyed my tongue go in and out and up and down his hairy, fresh, crack that I wasted no time in pleasing.

“Fuck me.” He said.
“You want this dick?” I silently replied
“Fuck me good.” He commanded me

I got up and went to my drawer to get my condoms. I had waited for this day to break in my apartment and found no one worthy of this moment.

So many thoughts raced through my head, but it didn’t stop me from getting in his ass, I only gave him what he wanted.

“Come here.” I called him over.

He bent over, looking out the open windows that faced the east river. I got on my knees behind him and continued to get him wet and loosen him up.

I got of my knees and I slowly felt him grip me. He took it. And with every inch he moaned, quietly. But i could still tell that he prepared for this moment of me inside of him. 

The deeper I went inside of him, i kissed him on his neck. Played with his nipples and pounded him deeply as I grabbed on to his waist. I moved him to my bed, where i told him to bend over as I had a surprise for him. I pulled out and i nutted all over his ass. It didn’t stop there, I licked it up and ran my tongue across his hole and made him fall asleep right on his stomach.

As the sun rose that Monday morning. I woke up alone. I got up and my apartment was empty and his guitar bag was gone. He got what he wanted and he left like a thief in the night.

At least he didn’t have my nut, i didn’t as feel half as bad. be continued

1 comment: