A New Year's Resolution

As most people have begun floundering on their New Year’s Resolution, I decided to take the alternative route by taking the first 14 days of the New Year of the New Years to gauge exactly where I am and where I want to be throughout the course of this year.

Like most Americans I want to get my financial house in order. And like some American I have included spiritual enlightenment (after spending way too long being mad at God for my own shortcomings) and emotional growth (as a significant co-signer) to my lists. On top of those things I decided to get back to the core of my writing.

While I have spent the last three years writing now more than ever, most of my energy has been going to my erotic writings including an upcoming anthology followed by a novel under my pseudonym. In the process of getting paid pennies on the dollar for these works, I have neglected writings under my own name and vowed to get a novel published surrounding my teenage years, which I hope will be an entertaining journey for most while being a sobering truth to coming into my sexuality.

Speaking of sexuality, I have decided to suspend my bisexuality (can he do that?), in the sense that while I am equally attracted to men as I am women, I decided that this will be the year that I explore my surrounding myself with more mature, masculine men of color who are content in their same gender-loving skin. I don’t mean that to be in a sexual way as much as I want to pursue it in a social way. And that doesn’t mean that I am going to give up my association of sexual bravado with women, as it means that I am not going to purposefully go back and forth between the sexes.

Although, I have been always open with my bisexuality, I had started to for a nasty habit of getting frustrated with one sex and run to the other. Women wanting a committed relationship because of sex and men for the same reason, too, along with men who want sex with no strings attached.

Besides, as I go into my ninth year of being out (bisexual and gay), I have met a group of masculine men, online and off, that has given me hope (in the social arena) that there are men (gay or bi) that can acknowledge that they get down with other men and still have the power to hold their own dicks (or scratch their asses) like a man. And I would love to surround myself with that energy, or at least get to know it before I become jaded with the whole community.

As for sex however, I decided to rein that part in just a little bit. Not that I was all that wild-out (or as wild as I though I was or wanted to be), but because I have become a little bit more conscientious that I will become a little bit selfish this year when it comes to sex, be it men or women, in the sense that I will make more of a consorted effort to be satisfied first, and in the process ensure that my partner, too, is satisfied. Throughout the course of my sex life, I had always operated vice versa, satisfying my partner and deriving my pleasure from their pleasure.

Another thing I decided to do is only have sex, with others or myself unless I am horny as hell.

What I mean by that is my dick can and will get hard at the gentle gust of the wind, but my hormones aren’t in it. Or, I might feel like I have a booty call that I hadn’t hit up in a while, and just so they don’t feel like I forgot about them I roll on a condom and roll on through.

Not literally—well…

And to let everyone know how serious I am, I just recently passed up the grand opportunity to plug up a phat juice ass—dude even made a video for me to roll through!!! It was very hot and tempting, but it required me to put on my clothes while I was so comfortable in my bed.

The verdict is still out on whether I will or will not let someone up in my booty. January of next year would be the ten year anniversary since I let the first and second guy put a dick up this ass. (I was seventeen, and not versed in the top/bottom thing as much as it was whether or not I was gay or not followed by a year and a half relationship I was in, with my partner only preferred performing oral.)

It’s not that I’m all that worried about being turned out (thought I really doubt half these punks really thought they would spend half of their lives looking for a dick fix), as it has been that I haven’t found that brotha to do that to me again.

Well, that isn’t exactly true—but I will explain later.

At any rate, I am unsure if I want to be in a relationship with the first dude that “re-enters the dragon”. On, one hand, I do, if for nothing more than the understanding and the patience that comes with a relationship that you can’t get with a fuck buddy. But, on the same token, I would hate to give up a couple of rounds of ass to my boyfriend, and feels like he’s good after busting his nutt.

I mean, would I have waited nine years just for that?

Or maybe it’s my own past coming to play of the countless bottoms I’ve fucked who wanted to build a relationship off of my dick going up their asses. Perhaps, that gets the best of my psyche.

That…and finding a dude I am feeling that I would allow to do that to me.

But that doesn’t stop me from thinking about it though. From the videos to the people that let me roam around their insides, I think about the many reactions and play in wonderment.

At the very beginning of the year, I had the esteemed pleasure of watching a dude get fucked at a sex party. While this usually appealed to my voyeuristic nature, I actually paid close attention to the bottom lying beside my knees, from his composure to his breathing as his top plowed into him with phrases of dirty talk that I could use on my own future conquests.

While I am still on the fence on the whole bottoming thing, I have met the man that I wouldn’t mind doing it to me. To know me is to know that I don’t easily get excited over a guy, regardless of his looks or actions. So for me to have a non-nutt orgasm come from my dick and deep inside my almost virgin ass said a lot, especially since I always keep the perspective that all of us are nothing more than just flesh and blood. And even though I have not doubt that he is a Casanova (I went back right?), I can’t resist being attracted to him—even if he doesn’t know I’m alive or have a boyfriend or a stalker or whatever! Even if he were to know that I existed and I was ready to do the damn thing—one major problem

His dick.

It would be just my luck that my big, thick chocolate dream would have a dick that is large and mythical as the Great Loch Ness Monster.

While I understand, from conversation that I have had with one of my best friends who used to be a celebrated bottom before settling down in a relationship that I am likely to break even with the ratio of thick black men with matching dicks with those that fall below average, I greatly fear this image of being lead around the room head first with a great big dick skewered up my tender ass.

Sure, it sounds like a blast, but for whom?

I mean, really, I enjoy the simple things in life like sitting down and holding my shit in. And it wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t for the first dick I took being relatively big—like black man average—as I later learned. But back then I was looking to define my sexual orientation through sex rather than enjoying or wincing at the experience for what it was.

And, yet, I catch the irony that size queens everywhere wish to have my problem.

Still, though, in spite of hesitation “Mind over Glorious Matter” flashes through my head as he, over the past couple of months, have played a crucial part of my jack-off fantasies.

Let me stop before—it’s too damn late.

But like I said before this year I am getting back to the core of my writing which is more commercial than literary and more indecent than erotic.

Okay, that will not change—because whether I want to admit or not, my fantasy friend has been helpful in cranking out these books, which I mentioned earlier due to the publisher later on this month.

Meanwhile, I believe in these resolutions of the New Year to be better that I want to be, I started the year of making it out of the Five Points Train Station twelve minutes before the Peach Drop at Underground [Atlanta], which I got inside just in time for the countdown and the fireworks, I found fifty dollars catching the train to a sex party where I received the best head ever while two other dudes sucked on my nipples, and for the very first time in my life I got my ass eaten out by the dude that was fucking the bottom I was paying attention to.

Please, don’t get the impression that this blog—my new blog—is nothing more than sexual exploits and fantasies because I want to keep this thing about whatever is going on in my life, from opinions to facts to whatever as I plan on using this blog to keep me on true to my core writing.

Oh, by the way, don’t’ be surprise that some of the other blog entries are dated, as I have attempted to bring my old and new together.