Check out my interview.

http://www.gbmnews.com/articles/279...n-Jr/Page1.html

Now enjoy a story I wrote today.


FLASHLIGHTS

They say flashlights are sometimes everything when it comes to darkness. I, on the other hand, was a man who challenged any and everything I heard. I never got into politics. They were mere scripted occurrences I didn't want to be a part of. I didn't care for Obama or Clinton. Neither one knew I existed, I never sat down and spoke to them. I didn't care for elections, voting and people's rights. As long as I got my bills paid then fuck it.

I lived during the day as a straight man with everything together. Good job at the post office, stamping people's mail, putting up with their shit, listening to their problems, becoming belligerent about their antics, looking at their photos (when the line was stretching out the door, damn near to the parking lot) and a host of other shit I didn't want to get into right now. I smiled when there was nothing to smile about and I cursed a bitch out when provoked. Being that I was a 40 year old man I thought life ended when the clock struck midnight on my 40th B-day. There wasn't any posing for the camera now, flick, flick, flick popping with me. Even at my birthday party, given by my 20 year old knock-out, gorgeous son Billy, I didn't pose for pictures. My wife pulled me out to the middle of the floor and wanted to celebrate my big day, and the fact that it was our twentieth anniversary. We got married on my birthday.

I remembered she looked deeply into my eyes, looking sexy in a flowing black dress and her hair swept from her face like our kitchen floors.

“I love you,” she said.

Amongst oh’s and aw’s I kissed her back, holding her tightly. “I love you, too.”

Twenty years of marriage. And not once have we ever cheated on each other.”

I thought about the darkness then. I was faithful to her in the light. But in the darkness, I was a totally different person.

“And I never will,” I told her. “I love you too much.”

She smiled, trying to trick me into taking pictures.


Now I sit in the darkness. In fact every light in my house was turned off, thanks to the circuit breaker. The moon glowed its huge ball above my house so I got up and closed the blinds. I wanted it completely dark.

He's breathing and so am I. This man, this, um...ey, stranger I met on a little site called black gay chat. He touched me and I touched him in a way that made him take my fingers and suck each one slowly. He remembered I dipped my hands in cheesecake, which was on the nightstand.

"Mmm, this is good," he said appreciatively, turning me on my stomach and spreading my cheeks. He slapped my booty cheeks repeatedly, each smack a little harder than the last.

Smack.
Smack.
Smack!
SMACK! SMACK!

With a sense of urgency, he was suckling on my booty cheeks. He put some passion marks on them. He was a possessive little fuck but hey, I got what I asked for. My wife never touched me with this much longing and zeal. The pleasure mixed with pain I welcomed. Because when the sun came up it was back to work to talk to a bunch of customers I didn't care for.

I thought about his friend that came here with him.

“Where’s your boy?” I asked my lover.

He said, “Probably trying to find his way back to your room in the dark.”

We chuckled.

We heard a tussling noise, like someone tripped. “Ow, shit!” came the harsh whisper.

My lover said, “There he goes.”

The door opened and he stumbled into the room. He was chuckling, his booming voice bouncing off the walls. Thank God for the darkness. Then I wouldn't be reminded that I was a married man. My wife was in Greece with my son. They loved to travel, yet never really talked about it amongst their peers. You knew some black folks. The minute you started talking about traveling they automatically assumed you had money.

"Are you ready?" my lover asked.

Wanting to be fucked, I said, "Yes."

My asshole quivered with a longing it had never experienced. My body on fire, my heart raced with sensuality.

The third person in the room, I'll call "Flash," turned on the flash light. Over his face was a white, ghostly mask. On his body was a black robe, tied at the waste. A hood was over his head. Now this was the freaky shit
I was talking about.

My friend entered me slowly, gently, his hand on the small of my back. In the doggy style position, I tooted my ass up towards his sweaty pelvis. I was about to die from the anticipation. My colon swallowed inch by inch effortlessly. I was extremely tight. He said, "Your ass keeps pushing my dick back out. Damn, Pa. You got some tight ass. I can't wait to pop your cherry again."

My cell phone exploded on the nightstand. The vibration sent it dancing. I looked at the screen and it was my son. I decided not to answer. After all, he was in Greece with his mother having a grand ole time.

My lover felt so incredible, his Old Spice mixed with a little musk tramping my nose. He pulled out of me and fumbled around for his boxers. The beam danced across them on the bed briefly. He took them up and pushed my face down to the pillow. He put the boxers under my nose, and part of them in my mouth.

"Suck on those boxers, bitch."

I loved to be controlled. His manly scent made me shake with convulsions as he caused my hole massive damage, in a good way. Slapping sounds filled the room.

Flash started casting the flashlight, the beam sporadically flickering. He turned in circles, turning it on and off, like a huge disco ball. Our shadows danced in unison as he finally found the grappling hook in the bottom of my hole and took me out to sea, to dance amongst the sharks and the swordfish.

He turned on another flashlight, swinging both beams like a circus act that forgot to make flyers announcing they were in town. How could they? They were in my room.

He turned me on my side, sliding his nature back into paradise. Holding my leg up, he pulverized my tight hole to the point I heard swishing sounds.

The beams found us, smiled and laughed, touched and teased out skin, letting off the warmth and glow that made candles jealous and the sun envious.

I felt it rising, the bile in my throat. He was too big, eleven inches felt like twenty. I slept with two guys in my 40 years on this earth, never really getting into the lifestyle. The light, remember I had a marriage, a son and an image.

My cell phone vibrated again. It was my son. But I was too lost in ecstasy to stop.

“I know you’re not running from this dick…”
I was moaning out of control, feeling his dick damn near in my gut. “No, baby.”

“You letting a twenty-five year old make you run from dick?”

He was a pro at what he did, I couldn’t deny it. He had me stuttering and speaking in tongues.

“Huh, can’t talk?” he demanded, turning me on my back and pushing my legs in the air. He drilled me like my ass had oil.

“Damn, Pa. I’m about to buss again…”

“Come inside me, baby.”

“I want in on your face…” Shivering, he pulled out, pulled off the Jimmy and came in my face. He was standing over me, one hand planted on the wall, the beams dancing across our bodies.

The shadows bobbing and weaving.


We lay spent. Flash turned off the flashlights and remained quiet. I was too tired to ask did he want to join in on the fun. Three’s company when the third person wasn’t doing anything.

My phone vibrated again and I answered.

“Dad, why aren’t you answering the phone?” he asked frantically.

I was alarmed. “Something’s wrong, Son?”

“No, Dad. Someone ran…” The phone was breaking up. “…and Mom went inside…”

I was frustrated, getting out of the bed and asking Flash for the flashlight.

He handed it to me. I turned it on and said, “Son, hang up and call me back. I can’t hear you. The phone is breaking up.”

I hung up.

My lover said, “Is everything ok?”

I said, “You two have to go. Something is wrong with my son. He said something about my wife; I hope nothing happened to them in Greece. And I’m over here in the States being unfaithful.”

My lover got up and gathered his clothes.

“I’ll call you when I get home,” he said and we shook hands like complete strangers and he left.

I eyed Flash.

“Didn’t you hear me. Get the fuck out, go home.”

Flash shook his head “No.”

“What the fuck!” I stormed up to him and took him by the neck. I wasn’t playing. My phone exploded again. “Get out.”

He shook his head “No.”

“FUCK!” I answered the phone. “…Son…”

“Dad, someone else just came out…”

The phone died in my hands.

I looked at Flash, trying to keep calm. I opened the dresser and pulled out a pair of sweat pants and put them on. I didn’t bother with putting on a shirt.

“Flash. Look. This is my wife’s house. I was out of pocket for fucking your friend in her bed when she’s overseas.”

He reached for the flashlight and held it under his face, tilting his head. OK. He was scaring the fuck out of me. My son warned me that crazy people were on the internet. Oh, God! I feared my life.

Flash slowly turned the flashlight around my room, looking at the hanging family photos. He stopped at the one of my wife. He reached over and picked up a Sharpie marker from the nightstand. On a pice of paper he wrote:

She is pretty.

I just stared at him, thinking of a way to get to my gun.

And your son is hot! Is he gay like his Daddy?

I said, “Flash. Please, get out of here.”

He wrote on another piece of paper:

I’m a black belt. One wrong move you die. I know your family is in Greece.

Oh, God! My family! What had he done?