Month: September 2019

FUCK DONALD TRUMP

Discerning Daddy

I won’t lie. I’m scared. The thing I’m scared most of is that it won’t matter how pissed off we get, how scared we are, none of it will matter because Donald Trump will still probably win in 2020.

And I don’t know what that means for my community.

I’m not talking about rich gay white men. Ultimately, most of us will be fine. I’m talking about those parts of our community who can’t blend in, can’t hide. The trans men and women, the gender queer people, the cis-women, the people of color, the Muslims and Jews. The ones who are never really safe, even when there is a democrat in office.

Sometimes I sit and watch the news and I wonder, when did it all become so mean? Was the world always like that and I just didn’t notice?

And when did Republicans become willing to sell us all out? As if the idea of being an American only really matters if you are a rich white heterosexual man.

I’m not absolving my community either. Many of us, me included, are sitting by and watching it all happen. I know lots of gay men who don’t read the news, who have given up. Waiting it out. Which is a luxury. A privilege.

We live in a world where everything is beginning to feel hopeless. A world that is on fire, a world that is slowly becoming unlivable. We are willingly walking into self-annihilation.

And I keep wondering: what can we do? A lot of us are just trying to survive, stay afloat in a world that is becoming harder and harder.

But there are things we can do. Small things, things that won’t take much of our time, but can mean the world to someone else.

I think that visibility in the face of fascism is radical and political. Holding hands in public, kissing openly, refusing to deny who we are. This matters. It lets the world know we are here.

Standing up for everyone in our community, not just the ones who look like us, or the ones we want to fuck. Refusing to objectify each other. To take care of each other. To not take advantage of those of us who are struggling, but instead to try to be compassionate and loving.

It all starts with us. With the way we treat each other, as a community, as humans.

I always thought that if we just made choices that were based on being kind to each other, and taking care of each other, helping each other, then we wouldn’t have ended up where we are now.

There’s still a lot of hope out there. And it’s in each of us. We have the ability to love each other, to forgive each other, to be kind to each other. Imagine how strong we would be as a community if we took care of each other, and refused to back down to intolerance or homophobia, transphobia, racism, if we stood up for each other, included each other.

We would be unstoppable.

I’m not trying to preach, or be moralistic, I just want to remember there is hope. That we get to decide the fate of our future, our community, and ourselves.

Fuck who you want. Fuck how you want. Refuse to deny who you are. And take care of each other.

Because honestly, looking out at the world, we might be all we have.

Thanks for reading. I’d love to hear your thoughts. And follow me on Instagram if you want!

How a Three-Way Taught Me To Feel Safe in My Relationship

Discerning Daddy

I struggle a lot with trust. I’m also territorial. I don’t like sharing what’s mine.

Like all of us, I can feel insecure, not good enough: afraid that I will lose something valuable.

I can create stories in my head where I will be betrayed and abandoned.

The thing about these fears is that they are contrary to what is real. I am not alone. I’m surrounded by people who love me. I have friends. I have an amazing boyfriend. And to be honest, I have bunch of ex-boyfriends who are still some of my best friends.

Clay and I have had a bunch of really successful three-ways, and some group sex experiences, but it wasn’t until recently that I learned something valuable:

I go into a lot of these scenarios treating the other guy(s) as a potential threat, and my boyfriend as something that belongs to me. And really, neither of those things are true.

Clay and I both agree: we want to be able to fuck other guys. We want to be able to explore and have adventures. But for now, we choose to do that together. It’s our form of monogamy. I’ve talked about this a lot so I won’t go deep, but one of the things I like about our arrangement is we get to experience something new, while also experiencing each other as something new.

Recently we decided to meet up with Trent. Both Clay and I have fucked Trent in the past. He’s someone we are both comfortable with.

And yet I found myself getting insecure, worried that maybe I wouldn’t be good enough, all the things my head can do to tell me that I won’t be enough. I began to view Trent as the threat and Clay as the possession that would be stolen from me.

While Clay and I were waiting for Trent to show up he looked at me and asked,

“Will it bother you if I kiss him? He and I…we have a history. It can get kind of passionate.”

For a second something like fury burst through me, but I saw it for what it was: fear. And then I thought: What’s the point of having some other dude over if we can’t kiss them, or be passionate: what’s the point of any of this if we have to censor who we are?

The truth is, if I thought about it: the idea of Clay making out with some other guy was hot as fuck. The thought of Clay holding me, touching me, while I made out with another guy makes my dick hard right now writing this.

The only thing holding me back from really enjoying these experiences, from fully realizing my sexuality and my partners sexuality, is myself.

My fear.

Trent was coming over to be with us. Not Jeff. Not Clay. But Us. There is something beautiful about that. And then I thought: it’s our job to make Trent feel special, to make him feel desired: we were inviting him into our world, and he deserved the best welcome we could give.

Watching Clay make out with Trent was breathtaking in how hot it was. The two of us kissing Trent, exploring him, taking turns fucking him, making him the center of our world, was one of the hottest experiences I’ve had in a long time.

And if I ever doubted how safe I was with Clay, how secure I am, he taught me, in those moments, how loved I am. He would check in with me, touch me, kiss me, make sure I knew that we were together in this. That this was our adventure.

We can be filthy pigs. I loved licking Clay’s cum out of Trent, filling Trent with two of my own loads, making out with Trent while Clay fucked him, and watching the two of them make out while I fucked Trent, but more than that there was a shared intimacy between the three of us, something that connected us, for those brief moments we were all together.

And I found myself falling deeper in love with my man. Trusting him. Desiring him. There is nothing hotter than watching my dude with another guy, being able to connect with him in a whole knew way.

After Trent left Clay and I went on a date, the two of us, to dinner. Then we came home and curled up on the couch and watched scary movies. Then we fucked and fell asleep holding each other.

I’ll still get jealous. It’s part of who I am. But I think I learned that even in those moments all I have to do is remember the truth: I am loved. And I am safe.

I encourage you to go out and explore. To challenge yourself: to find a way past your fear. And to take care of each other. And to be kind. It was the kindness that helped me the most: to remember that Trent was a good man, not my enemy, and that Clay was my partner, not my possession. To be kind and loving to them both in those moments, no matter how filthy or piggy we got: because we can be all of it: filthy, dirty, nasty, loving, kind pigs.

I’d love to hear your stories. And adventures. And the ways you challenge yourself!

Thanks so much for reading. Without you none of this matters.