We were quiet for a minute, then I remembered the thin little joint in my shirt pocket. “Smoke a little dope?” I asked.“I haven’t smoked dope ...n ages,” he said.‘Is that a yes or a no?” “A yes,” he said,I stood up and waded out of the pool, feeling his eyes on me the whole time. It felt good to be naked in front him, complete stranger that he was. Thrilling.“Okay if I dry my hands on your towel? Mine’s in my pack.”“Absolutely,” he said.I wiped my hands dry, fished the joint and a lighter out of. My "gay" side consisted mostly of me dressing up in my favorite lingerie, getting out my dildos and hopping on the gay chatline, trolling for dominant black bulls who wanted to get off over the phone. A couple times a week, when I had no morning classes, it had become my routine from about 9 am until 11. I was sitting on my black bull 9" thick dildo, suction cupped to my coffee table. I had it completely buried as I stroked my cock and a man on the phone line was telling me how he was going to. More

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