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Black Gay Man in America

Hello, there. My name is Steve Victor. I'm a young black man living in Boston. I attend Boston College and I major in engineering. One of these days, I aim to have my own company. You don't make much money, or get much glory, while working for other people. I'd love to see my name on the office door, or the company logo. That's why I'm busting my ass in college right now. Life is not easy for a young black man in college but I manage. I'm working towards the future, you know? Got to keep my head up and do what I got to do!

Even a hard-working young black man like myself needs his distractions every now and then. That's why I got my men, know what I mean? People say I'm gay, but I just say no way! Alright, fine. I will admit that sometimes, I've liked certain young men and I've played with them. What can I say? I like men. Occasionally. My favorite kind of man is the good-looking, black-skinned, muscular thugs I sometimes see in the hood. I have a special interest in these studs. One of them is my favorite lover right now. His name is Stanley Madison.

Stanley is a tall, muscular black hunk. He's sexy as hell. He's got a bad rep in the hood. Everybody knows this dude is a straight up gangster. He's had beef with the cops. Nobody messes with him. Dudes respect him. Bitches respect him too. He's a real roughneck. If you're a pimp or a whore, you pay tribute to the man who runs the show. Stanley is the champ around these parts. Nobody dares to muscle in on his territory. He's got money. He's got power. He's got respect.

Stanley is going out with Mercedes Brown, one of the finest-looking bitches in the hood. Mercedes is a tall, brown-skinned honey with long black hair, a firm athletic body and a fine, round behind. This chick was the envy of dames from here to Calcutta. Yeah, she was fine. Mercedes was Stanley's girlfriend. His main squeeze. They were the golden couple in the hood. The roughneck and his down ass chick. Yeah, everything seemed perfect. Problem is that sometimes there's trouble in Paradise.

There is a different side to Stanley which the world doesn't know about. He may be a good-looking black stud and a straight-up gangster, but he still had some interests which weren't exactly mainstream. The guy's a bisexual, alright? Stanley liked his bread buttered on both sides. He liked both men and women. He was very much into the love that dared not speak its name. Yeah, he liked the men, just like me.

Stanley was a sexy and dangerous bad boy. Just the way I liked them. We met at a restaurant once. Our eyes met and without a word being spoken, I knew that he was just like me. Stanley, the sexy black gangster who ruled the hood was a queer, just like me. I smiled, and put the moves on him. The dude didn't resist me. We went to the bathroom, and he fucked me like sex was going out of style. Stanley simply dropped his pants and shoved his cock into my mouth. I sucked him off. The brother had a long cock and balls the size of apples. Damn! I sucked him off like there was no tomorrow. When he came in my mouth, I drank his seed. When I was done, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, and smiled at him.

Stanley stared at me. He looked relieved. The gangster was seriously good-looking up close. That's when he did something real extreme. He grabbed me by the neck and told me that if I ever told anyone that he let me suck him off, he'd kick my ass. I looked at this sexy bad boy. Yeah, he was hot. Yeah, he was dangerous and nobody wanted to mess with him because he was a bad-ass motherfucker but I was nobody's bitch. I'm a tough man when I've got to be. I told him to get his hands off me, and then let him know that I didn't take crap from nobody. I also told him that although females found him sexy as hell, well-hung gay black men were a dime a dozen in the hood and I didn't fancy him as much as he thought I did. With that¸ I walked away.

I could tell that Stanley was surprised. He watched me go without saying anything. This gangster ruled the hood. Pimps, prostitutes, drug peddlers and junkies, all of them feared him. He was the king of the hood. However, I was a gay black man. I was used to having the whole world against me. Men and women simply couldn't stand the black homosexual. When a man messed with me, I took him down without hesitation. Hell, if a psycho chick came after me, I'd take her down just the same way I would take a man down. I don't play. I value my life highly. If you can't stand the heat, stay the hell away from the outspoken gay black stud, alright?

Stanley followed me into the parking lot, and apologized. I stared at him. I smiled. Then, we shook hands. That night, he invited me to a motel, and we fucked and sucked like sex was going out of style. It was a lot of fun. Stanley had twelve inches of long black dick and he was also uncircumcised, which is the way I like my men. He had me on all fours and thrust his cock deep into me. I screamed in sheer pleasure as he fucked me passionately. Later, we lay on the bed, panting. It was the start of a beautiful relationship.

Stanley and I had our thing going on in secret. We'd meet in motel rooms at night, and sometimes, he'd come to my place. My dorm room at Boston college was pretty far from Roxbury and Dorchester, the towns where Stanley's underground criminal empire was based. Yeah, we were together for a long time. He was alright, folks. Everybody in the hood thinks he's a ruthless bastard. He can be, and in the world in which he lives, he's got no choice. In the hood, a man has to be hard in order to survive. With me, Stanley was cool. He was unbelievable nice. You wouldn't believe a bisexual gangster from the hood liked poetry, would you? Yeah, that's what I thought.

I graduated with a degree in engineering. I started working for Anderson Blake, a famous black architect as part of his team. Anderson was a good man. I even met his wife Darlene Blake, a professor of science at U-Mass. They were both good people. I got myself an apartment in the Back Bay. Stanley became a frequent visitor in my place. I think I've fallen in love with him. His girlfriend Mercedes is no longer in the picture. He ditched the high-maintenance bitch a long time ago. I wish Stanley could live with me. In the open. Of course, he can't do that. The black community isn't ready to accept two black gay men living together.

Sometimes, things were tense between Stanley and me. Running a criminal empire wasn't easy. There were employees to keep track of. Deals to be made. Politicians to be bought. Stanley was under a lot of stress. Still, he was my man and one day, he bought me a gold necklace with his initials on it and told me that he loved me. I told him that I loved him too. It was weird, you know? I was becoming a very successful man in the business world. Being a successful, and powerful, black man in America is not easy. Still, it would be better if I had someone to share it with. I was out in the open as a gay black man, which saddened all the good-looking black businesswomen I met.

I also met lots of rich gay men of all races. Many of them came onto me. Stanley and I had a fallout for a time and I began dating a good-looking black lawyer named Richard Stanford. Richard was sexy, cool, great company and completely comfortable with his lifestyle as an openly gay black man living in America. For a time, I was happy. Richard was a good man. But he was nothing like Stanley. How I missed my passionate Stanley. For a time, Richard and I were together but we lacked passion and our work schedules made our relationship difficult. We agreed to a separation. I thought about Stanley a lot during these lonely nights. Especially as I lay on my bed all alone. I didn't see him for a long time. The next time we saw each other was at Copley Mall. I was having dinner with Richard along with Rachel, a lady friend of ours, when I saw Stanley.

There he was, the sexiest black man alive. Stanley, looking sexy as hell in a black leather jacket, red shirt and blue jeans. The ultimate Hip Hop stud. Damn, he looked sexy! I saw both men and women checking him out. He looked sexy, daring and dangerous. Middle-aged women and men alike licked their lips as they checked out this masculine fantasy symbol. I smiled at him. He smiled at me. He did something which was very surprising. He strode into the restaurant, and walked up to us. I stood to greet him. I held out my hand, smiling at him. Stanley did not smile. Instead, he put his arms around me and kissed me.

Although I was beyond shocked at this point, I kissed him back. I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him. My wonderful, sexy black man. Stanley smiled, and winked at my friends. Rachel, my friend from the firm, stared at Stanley, gawking. Richard looked at him somberly. I introduced Stanley to my friend, and to Richard. Richard stared at Stanley. Stanley looked at Richard, and smirked. I couldn't help but smile. Stanley smiled at both of my guests, and told them that he was borrowing me for a time. Then, he led me away from them. Guess what? He did something which he had never done before. He held my hand!

I wondered where he was taking me. Keep in mind that while he was a mystery man, he always came right out and said whatever it is he wanted to say. Stanley told me that a lot of things had happened since he last saw me. He was seriously considering leaving the trade, forsake his criminal lifestyle, and live as a free man, honest with himself. He also told me that he thought I might want to be in this future which he envisioned for himself. Smiling, I kissed him. What do you think my answer was? Yes, on all counts!

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