A/T/L/S/L/U/T: F*ck Him to the Left

My fuck buddy DJ just left my house.  We met in October on a random Monday night at Friends on Ponce, the kind of night when all I was looking to do was grab some quick drinks before bed.  When I stepped to the bar, he immediately approached me with a flair of self confidence that made his already attractive stature even more appealing.  And "attractive stature" is just wordplay, cause this dude is fucking hot: black, my height, nice frame, dressed in ripped jeans, a casual but cool tee, snapback, and super fresh sneakers.  I wasn’t expecting to meet a guy that night but I was more than happy to reciprocate game.  The more we drank, the friendlier we got, and good lawd have mercy we made out right in the middle of the bar while Aaliyah played on the jukebox.  I was with friends (who ruthlessly made fun of me later on for sucking face with a stranger at Friends on Ponce, rightfully so) so I didn’t take him home that night, but we exchanged numbers and met for dinner about a week later.  It was one of those nights where we could barely keep our hands off each other before we even got to the restaurant to eat, but we did, and ended back at my house for some truly mind-blowing fucking.  

His body was on point, his mouth knew exactly where to go and what to do, and his 8inch cock hungrily found it’s way to my ass for a deep pounding.  Twice.  This guy was not only hot, but just coooooool on top of all that.  I definitely had a crush.  

Mutually busy schedules kept us from seeing one another for the next couple of weeks, but we texted back and forth to keep interest secured.  Lots was going on around that time to scatter my mind: work deadlines, family and friend distractions, an out of town Halloween adventure to NYC, and of course the election pretty much had everyone on edge.  Then the election happened and we all lost our minds.  After several days of adjusting to the new world order, I woke up Saturday morning and just wanted to fuck the pain away.  DJ showed up looking hotter than ever, sporting another fly af outfit that had me imagining how cute we would look together and that smile that made me melt.  We grabbed breakfast at Waffle House, did some window shopping nearby where we both resisted buying random expensive niceties (for me, the fiercest backpack I've ever seen, and him, more sneakers of course), and finally found our way back to my place.  Clothes quickly came off and we fucked like rabid animals for the next hour, exploding and collapsing in the comforts of cum, sweat, and cotton sheets.  We laid there carelessly embraced and exchanging pillow talk.
 

All felt good in the world.  
Then he told me he voted for Trump.  

 

To say that I felt mortified and betrayed is an understatement.  I’ve been crushing on a gay man who voted for Trump?  I’ve been getting railed by a gay black man that voted for Trump?!?!  I shot up like a rocket and looked at him shocked, waiting for him to tell me he was joking.  He wasn’t.  “I’m just about my money,” was his defense.  As all the passion was sucked out of the room, I tried to reason with him on the err of his thinking, but the flippant lack of interest in the topic told me that his mind was far removed from the consequences of his decision.  After making it very clear that our political points of view were irreconcilable, I politely made up an excuse as to some other thing I had to do that afternoon and sent him on his way, with no plans to see him again.

Like damn, wtf?  I was seriously bummed that I met a hot ass dude and this major conflict of interest put the whole thing on full stop.  But my moral superiority apparently didn’t run as deep as one might hope.  DJ texted me two days later and told me he left something on my doorstep.  I was at work at the time so I didn't think too much of it, and had nearly forgotten all about it by the time I got home to find the package hanging from my doorknob.  He bought me the dope af $120 backpack.  

I gotta be honest, I’ve had boyfriends for years who never bought me a gift that good.  I felt like a Sex and the City character getting a designer bag from a bougie suitor.  It felt cool.  And confusing.  I texted some friends and was all like, “Do I return this backpack?!?”  Everyone agreed I should keep it (thank goodness!).  I texted him and thanked him and he explained that there was nothing expected in return, that he just knew how much I liked it and he wanted to get it for me.  So I kept the backpack and debated my next move.  

He's beyond sexy (but he voted for Trump).  He's really fun to hang out with (but he voted for Trump).  He's fantastic in bed (but he voted for Trump).  He wants to buy me fancy presents (but he voted for Trump).  Sigh, what's a fag to do?  Then the universe seemed to hand me the reasonable excuse I was looking for.  I read something online that talked about how, during this time of divineness in our culture, we should not limit ourselves to our own bubble of beliefs, and that we should use our social influence to help institute change in people who think differently then we do.  That packaged up with a new backpack and a desire to keep fucking this super sexy dude gave me the resolution to keep seeing him.  Thusly, I decided that while he fucked me into the floorboards, I would fuck him to the left.

Yeah, it doesn’t really get more shallow. Don’t think this is lost on me.  After that we became fuck buddies and continued to shack up with a mild level of frequency.  I think he like-liked me (hell, I liked him too before I knew his voting record) but I made it clear that I wasn’t interested in anything more than friendship and sex.  I invited him over tonight knowing I was going to write this.  He showed up drunk and we joked around about life and other boys we’ve been fucking, until I straddled up on his lap and rode his dick till we both came.  Afterwards I asked him what he thought of all the shit going on with Trump.  “He’s a fucking idiot, he should of been impeached a long time ago.”  Considering all that has happened in the world these past few months, I certainly don't think I can take credit for his change of stance on this issue, but hell, I’ll take it anyway.  And I did take it, once more doggy style before he left.