He Called My Asshole A Pussy,... And I Liked it

One night I went to Incubus NYC. While I was getting undressed, my peripheral vision caught the frame of a hot naked body. I then got inspired to look more directly at the person. That's when I saw that as he continued walking, a beautiful semi-erect cock swinging, and a profile of a nice ass. An ass that as I watched his back showed itself to be a sweet, juicy bubble butt.

At which point, I could foresee me and him fucking. And even though I was trying not to set myself up for disappointment, I did say to myself, "Damn! I want a piece of that."

And I didn't want him as my bottom. I wanted him as my top.

After I got undressed down to my underwear, I went upstairs. That's where he was. Sitting on a couch with guys crowding him. While they were crowding him, I saw him looking at me. So I wound up in the mix. The guys swarming in seemed to become too much for him, and then he left. I knew I wasn't part of what overwhelmed him, but my suspicions of how they made him feel made me leave as well.

We soon after met up in the backroom of Paddles. We started making out. He then did something to me that I often do to guys when making out with them. He started massaging me. It was making me melt, and I let him know that. So he offered me a full-on massage.

I laid down on the medical table in that backroom. He started massaging me while he stood on the floor. Every time part of his massage positioned him moving pass my face, the sight of his swinging dick, hanging balls, and thick well defined thighs made my dick start growing underneath me. So much that I started wondering if I could end up cumming from the friction of his massage making my repeatedly growing cock rub against the soft cushions of that medical table.

My repeatedly growing cock stayed hard when he decided to continue his massage by getting on top me with his naked body. So now, I had those fit thighs on each side of me. As well as his equally fit calves. And it was heaven on earth feeling his dick and balls rubbing against various parts of my backside. Especially when his massage moves made his dick slip down the crack of my ass.

He was massaging me for so long that for a moment I thought  he was only going to give me a massage. But I was more so hoping that the massage was to relax my body for a nice hard butt-fuck from him.

Then he said something leading to me to an answer...

He said, "I want to fuck your pussy so bad". When he first said it, I felt a little weird because of what I told myself about calling the asshole by any other name but. However, I was also kind of turned on. Because of that being "kind of turned on", I hoped that after I said yes, and he began thrusting into me that he say it to me again. For I wanted to see if my being kind of turned on by my asshole being called a "pussy" was a passing moment, therefore making me need to stop him. Or was it something I could get into.

I got my answer by him putting that cock that I enjoyed the holy hell out of sucking, being hard enough to put in my ass, him slipping a condom on, and thrusting away at my hole. As he thrusted away at me, while I laid on my stomach, and his crotch massaged my also bubbly ass. He asked if I liked him fucking my pussy, and I told him I did. This time, his voice calling my ass a pussy turned me on more than it did the first time.

We soon change positions. Missionary. I was more than pleased by this because I was finally going to be able to massage his bubbly butt, while he massaged my hole with his dick. So good that when he asked if I like him fucking my pussy, I mirrored his words by responding, "Yes. Keep fucking my pussy, Baby!"

Yes. I referred to my own asshole as a pussy. And I didn't care. At first, I thought it was something that happened in the heat of the moment that I would regret in the hindsight that kicks in immediately following the afterglow of sex. Well, to this day, and as I write this. No such regret has hit me. He and I both called my asshole a pussy, and each calling of it as such sparked the word-perv in me, and got me closer to getting off.

Hindsight being 20/20 may not have given me regret, but it did teach me something. It taught me that the annoyance (expressed in a article I wrote 2 1/2 years ago) with guys calling my asshole any other names besides an asshole did not pertain to someone calling it a pussy. My annoyance was more about those idiotic names like "mussy", "bussy", "man-gina", "boy-pussy" were names that were made up as an attempt to gender an asshole --- a body part that is not specific to a gender.

I said in "A Sexually Geeky's Why I Heart Sex", when one refers to a vagina as a "pussy", they are often speaking of it as a female's canal to receive and give pleasure to the sex partner. During anal sex, when done right, the asshole does the same thing. However, I see now that I stayed away from calling one's asshole a pussy out of respect for allowing women to have a name for their unique body part that is a means for sexual pleasure for them. After all, females have had enough taken away from them by cisgendered males for millenniums. Plus, we cisgendered males have a dick, which the head of is actually the equivalent of a female's clitoris. So how would most males feel if women started referring to their clit as a dick? Many males would probably feel like females are trying to claim something that is unique to a male as their own, even if that is not their intention at all.  I see a male calling his asshole a pussy the same way. Hence why if you've followed my writing long enough, you have read me referring to my means for anal pleasure by the term "ass tunnel".

So while I have no regrets about my playmate referring to my asshole as a pussy, me referring to it as such myself, or me getting pleasure from either, out of the respect for women I spoke of in the previous paragraph, I won't be making it a habit of calling my asshole a pussy. I'll enjoy it in that moment, then move on.

I'm HIV+: No Bravery Applause Required

I always knew the day of me going public with my HIV+ status would come. My original plan was to come forward with it within in the pages of my autobiography that I have long been working on. But at the rate I’m going, scientist might actually find a cure by then, which would make not much need for the revelation. 

The thought to come forward with this revelation came when I got an invitation for Vladimir Rios’ exhibit of “I Still Remember” to be held at his gallery La Via Galerie in Livingston, NJ on World AIDS Day, December 1, 2018. I was one of the models in the photo narrative. The invitation also offered some guests to speak. Upon reading this, a conversation with myself started. It said: 

“NOW!” 

“’Now’ what?” 

“Now is when you’re going to publicly reveal that you’re HIV+” 

The idea of going public with my HIV status is not a new one for me. It is actually been a thought of mine for a long time. What might have caused a postponement was a potential playmate being a know-it-all.

He was someone I met at a condom-only party. We made out, I went down on him, giving him a mind-blowing blowjob, then we cuddled and chatted in the afterglow. During that conversation, I mentioned my day job and my being a sex educator via my blogging, which piqued his interest even more. We exchanged numbers to hook up one-on-one, then one night, we chatted via text. He said that outside that condom-only sex party that he liked to play raw, so he wanted to know my HIV status. I told him the truths of how 1)the joy of playing raw was mutual, and; 2)that my being positive, but undetectable. After disclosing my HIV status, I confided in him that I often considered going public with my HIV status.

Well, I have always said that my brain works like a both a male and a female's. Confiding in him with my thinking about coming out publicly with my HIV status was my female thinking, as females just tend to vent, and not necessarily seeking a solution. The male thinking is what this guy did. He considered my venting as an ask of "What should I do?", when even if I was seeking advice, the right thing to do was to recluse himself from giving it because he was in no position to offer a suggestion.

For he was HIV-. Therefore, he has no first-person experience as to what I have to consider by publicly coming out as HIV+. The most he may have ever done is watch someone else’s life from the outside looking in. And coming out as HIV+ is very much like the coming out as gay, bisexual, pansexual, transgender, etc. An outsider can demand that you be honest with yourself, but they cannot by any means so much as suggest when you tell such a truth about yourself to the outside world. Especially, if you’re a public persona on even the smallest level. 

Well, for the record, that hook-up outside of that party never happened. It was not because of his suggesting that I come out publicly. Although, it should have been the 1st sign of his being a know-it-all who talks too much as all know-it-alls do. It was about something else completely in which he unjustifiably showed himself to be a know-it-all. Therefore, an annoyance in the long run.

So while that might have caused me to postpone my coming out publicly with my HIV status, part of what definitely kept me quiet is that so many people have come out as HIV+. To the point that as I said in my speech at “I Still Remember”, saying you’re HIV+ is for me now just stating a matter of one’s being. Then I realized that while that may be the case, that too few of those faces of healthy HIV+ males in the media are those of Black men. Of course, they exist, but the biggest names in gay media still being the racist behemoths that they are still paint white and light complexioned males as the heroes of our society. Meanwhile, I have either heard tales and/or been eyewitness to some of these white/light faces partaking of the very same unhealthy practices that I speak against. So where are the many healthy Black males to disprove the negative stigma of what HIV looks like? And do so without the hypocrisy that the racism of many gay media outlets allow white/light males?

Too few on both counts. 

And I believe that is what incited that conversation with myself to make World AIDS Day 2018 be the day I publicly admitted to being HIV+.

So now that I have put the truth out there, I know I have incited many questions. Many questions about some things I've said in the past about safe sex, barebacking, HIV, and STIs. Well, let me warn you... we are talking about ME here. So while you may think you can surmise an answer, you will likely find you need to talk to me a little more for the correct and honest answer.

For that reason, I am open to emails, interviews, discussions as a moderator, guest speaker, or participant to expand on this. Plus, I am realizing that this revelation is an opportunity to expand on my knowledge I can share as a sex educator.

So let the expansion begin....