Breakfast With Brandon...The Ass

You all may remember me talking about my ex Brandon, whom I affectionately call "The Ass."

Some of you may think I call him that because he's an asshole, and you'd only be partly right.  Brandon is the ONLY boyfriend that I've ever had who always had to drink or get high before he'd want to get all affectionate with me.  Gave me quite a complex.

That's because Brandon is a bottom, but he didn't know that until he met me.

One night we were talking and I had done something extremely sweet for him and he said I could have whatever I wanted so I, with all of my "Smooth Vic Swagger", looked at him and said "I want that ass."

LOL.  I know, classy.

Anyway, he drank, we used lots and lots of lube because he was so scared and then when we got him naked I discovered why I would be calling him "the ass" for the rest of my natural born life.

Brandon has got a ghetto booty.  To see a ghetto booty on a natural born black woman is common place, to see it on a natural born black man is a little more common, but not so much.  To see a Latino woman with a ghetto booty is rare but not AS uncommon as seeing a white woman with a ghetto booty.  But...a white MAN with a ghetto booty?  For a gay man it's like the search for the Holy freakin' Grail.  LOL.

And as we know "Vic" is a gay man, a very toppy Dominant gay man.

When I saw Brandon's ass I wanted to weep...okay, not really, but my mouth did water and I did push him on the bed on all fours and I rimmed his ass like it was a fucking all you can eat buffet.

Oh. My. Gosh!  He even cleaned his ass like a gay man.  LOL.

Anyway, I fucked him, we both enjoyed it, we both got off and for the next few months that we were together, he was the "Dom" outside of the bedroom, while I played the part of "wifey" or "househusband" but in the bedroom, I was the fucking MAN!  LOL.  *Shivers of delighted rememberance*

Our relationship didn't really end all that well, even though I introduced him to his current partner.  Oh we didn't argue or anything, but he knew it was over and didn't tell me and when I found out...let's just say you don't want to fuck with a Scorpio.  I didn't out him or do anything horrible to him, but for a few weeks he got pictures sent to him of the two of us together.  Him handcuffed to the bed, me with my strap on about to fuck him.  *Shrugs*  Not one of my better moments but hey, I have a temper.

Anyway, while it's not unusual for me to hear from him, when he called me yesterday to tell me that he and his partner were going to be in town and they wanted to meet with me I said yes.  Had I known what the meeting was about, I would have brought a tall bottle of vodka or scotch or something.

Brandon and his partner have decided that they want to have children.  At first I thought they were asking for my eggs and I thought "Wow I'd be able to stay with Jack, I'd just fly up and visit.  Perfect solution!"  But, I got ahead of myself and got horribly disappointed.

They are going to use Brandon's partner, Brian's (yeah I call them B & B...and I always crack up when I do), sister's eggs, but they want me to move to Iowa for a while and carry the eggs for them.  So they want me to actually be the surrogate.  When I asked why Brian's sister couldn't do it, I was told that she didn't mind giving up an egg (or two) but she didn't want to ruin her figure by carrying someone else's child.  Apparently, I have no such qualms.

So.  Yeah.  They asked me and I told them that with everything going on that I'd have to think about it....like seriously think about it.  At this point me being pregnant would be BEYOND weird, and I sent Jack a quick text message and even he was like:

Jack: Goddammit baby, Idk. On 1 hand no b/c ur egg not good enuff? On 2 hand u can help and b preg. On 3 hand too weird.


Thank you Jackson, so eloquent, but exactly what I was thinking.  Because you know I asked them why not my eggs (especially since I'm so goddamn fertile) and they looked at each other all nervous like and said "We don't really want a black baby...or at least not a really dark brown one."

I chose to not have that be a racist statement and purely a matter of preference.

So I have this decision to make about if I'll carry for them or not.  On the one hand I'd be able to move.  Have a place to stay (with them-all expenses paid).  And that's good.  On the other hand, this whole thing, what they said about the "black baby" and everything just sort of makes me feel...icky.

*Sigh* I'm not going to worry about this right now.  I'll think about it more AFTER I get back from NOLA.

Some Title.... (Vic Speaks)

I am a writer.  I write.  I create situations and characters and scenarios that are woven together to make a beautiful story, but I can't even BEGIN to think of what to name this post.

Today I had to take my sister to school.  This is my baby sister, the one who just started college, not the one who graduated from college.  So I dropped her off, waited to make sure that she got to her classroom safely and then I went to leave.  I was in full on Vic mode today.  Jeans, T-shirt, I had on my strap-on, my Boston Red Sox baseball cap and my shades.  I was looking pretty damn sexy.  So I went to take off when these two really tall, really sexy guys stepped out in front of the car.  I slammed on brakes and just sort of looked at them in shock.  Didn't they see me driving?  So I put the car in park and got out of the car (I regretted how fast I got out as soon as my feet touched the ground, I'd left my cane on the backseat).

"What the hell?  Didn't you guys see me driving?  I don't discriminate on who I will hit, this isn't a crosswalk, a sidewalk or a pedestrian crossing, it's the parking lot which means if you're walking you have to watch out for cars, jackasses!"  Not my finest moment, but I was shaking a little from fear, having a flashback from 7 years ago when I saw the old man get hit by a car and then run over by a car behind us while Christopher and I were driving.

"Sorry," the shorter of the two guys says.  He looks like a football player, with his thick neck, brown hair, square chin, hugely muscled frame and his big hands.  I know that my strap-on is plastic, but I promise you, I got an erection...like hardcore.  More than that my "gaydar" was going off something fierce.

"It's alright," my voice instantly changed from angry motorist to "smooth Vic."  My voice is naturally husky because I'm a singer in addition to everything else and when I slide into my "Vic" voice, I'm usually looking to score and since it's been over a year since I've been laid, I'm jonesing for some loving....real bad.

The two guys walk towards me and I'm totally checking out the hot football player.  In my head we touch hands, feel the spark, I ask him out on a date, he says yes, we go out to dinner, go back to his place, make out, I fuck him, he fucks me, we fall in love, he's with me when I have my gender reassignment surgery, we move in together, move to New York, I get a job on LOGO Tv (that's a secret dream of mine), we find a surrogate, have us 4-6 kids, write this blog together, and live happily ever after.  So we all are introducing ourselves to each other.  His name is Jackson, goes by Jack, and he introduces his brother, William, who I will from now on refer to as "Dick" and not in a good way, in a 2 inches, slim, can hardly find it, totally disappointing, makes you mad when you see it, kind of way.

So very effortlessly we start talking and I notice that Jack keeps looking at my crotch.  I've gotten this reaction before whenever I wear my strap-on because it's one of those BIG black ones, you know the MONSTER cocks?  LOL.  Because the Italian man inside of me, Vic, has a big ass dick, thick and long.  *Grins*  So after he looks for like the third time, I clear my throat and he looks at me with this really cute blush on his cheeks.

I'm a little worried that you know Jack is younger than me, because I'm almost in my 30s, but he's 34 and he does what I do, he brings his 18 year old brother to and from school.  So I sort of step closer to Jack, just a little, and let my hand brush against his hand and yes, the mental erection I had, just got bigger, because I heard his breath catch.  Apparently so did Dick.

"You know my brother's gay right?" he asks me with this really ugly snarl on his face.  I laugh and said yes.  I notice that Jack is blushing again and he's really so cute.  Even though he's got like two or three inches on me, I want to sit him on my lap...after fucking him into the wall of course (Over a year people....I'm a walking hard-on).

"So why are you hitting on him?" Dick asks me.  I shrug and say, "Because he's hot and I think we'd have a really hot...I mean a really hard...I mean a really fun time together."  I notice that Jack is smiling wider and wider with each "mistake" that I made.

"But he's gay and you're a chick.  He doesn't date chicks," Dick says, looking at me like I'm stupid.

"I believe that Vic is transgendered William," Jack says, looking really embarrassed.  I just grinned, "Well, I'm bi-gendered.  I'm both female and male, not a female born in a male's body or vice versa," I explained, still smiling because oh man I can almost TASTE Jack's sweat.  My thoughts had drifted from the romantic to the erotic.  I was imagining what would happen if he just dropped to his knees in front of me and started to....

"Oh my gosh!  You're some kinda black freak huh?" Dick yelled.

SCREECH!!  Hold up!  Stop the presses.  What the FUCK did this bastard just say about me?

"William!"  That was Jack.

"Listen here asshole."  Yep, that was me, Vic.  "I am not a freak, first of all.  I was born this way, it's acceptable, I am okay with it and if you're not then fuck off.  Secondly, I'm not black you dumb fuck.  My skin may be brown, but I've probably got more WHITE in me than you do, it's just that my family learned to look past race and all that other bullshit to make a beautiful family tree."  By this point my hands are shaking and there are a few people standing around looking at us.  I hadn't realized that I was yelling, but apparently I was.

"I am so sorry.  He's not a homophobe or anything.  I mean he's really accepting of me," Jack is apologizing.  JACK is apologizing for WILLIAM.  How fucked up is that?  All the while William is glaring at me with his arms folded.

"You don't get to apologize for him Jack.  That's not your job.  He should apologize for himself," I say, still shaking in anger and trying to keep "Vee" from making an appearance.  I WANTED to be pissed off.  I didn't want to be compassionate and understanding right then.  I wanted to beat the shit out of this bastard.  I know that I have a temper problem, it's something I'm talking about with my VA assigned therapist, but hell, I don't get mad easily or often, but when I do, it can be a problem.

"I'm not going to apologize to some ugly black bitch that can't decide if she's a man or a woman.  She's probably crazy anyway."  Yep, you guessed it, that was Dick.

By this point some other black students have started to walk forward angry and I know that I have defuse this situation before it gets out of control.  Polk County doesn't get a lot of racially motivated fights or hate crimes, but that racism thing is always just underneath the surface.  So I glared at Dick, gave up on the fantasy of me and Jack together, in love and happy, and said, "So, what I'm hearing you say is that you're upset because I chose your brother over you and you were hoping that I was a girl that was open-minded so you could fuck me and be open to you introducing your best friend to me so that the three of us could have sex together and he could fuck you and you won't technically be gay or even bisexual, you only did it for the girl you were with?  Right?  Sorry to burst your bubble, but I'd be fucking the both of you and when I was done, you'd be gayer than your brother.  Asshole."

I turned and limped my way back into the car, which was thankfully still there, and pulled off.  This time no one stepped out in front of the car.

I was five minutes down the road when I had to pull over because I was shaking and crying too hard.

My looks and the color of my skin have always been a source of contention for me.  In my family I was always the "dark one."  That wasn't said in a nice way either, but in a "we'll forgive you for it" way.  And in the past 27 years, I've had only one person in my life who ever consistently told me I was beautiful, my cousin Val and she died 9 years ago.  Everyone else has maybe told me a total of five times and only when I was skinny, had my hair and nails done, was wearing makeup and dressed up.

I grew up feeling ugly, feeling as if I were too dark, as if I didn't belong in my skin, in my body, in my family and just as I start to embrace and live my truth, here comes this asshole and makes a huge dent in my armor.

I then got pissed off because I was JUST starting to embrace and live my truth and here comes this ASSHOLE and with a few well-placed words he TRIES to make a huge dent in my armor.

I don't think that Dick knew that I keep every email, every message, every comment that is encouraging and uplifting and supportive and once a week, sometimes once a day I copy and paste them into a word document and when I have bad days like today I read them so that I don't let them bother me too much.

So I came home and read the comments, the statements, the encouragement that you all left me.  The emails from Thorny, Sid and Kate.  The comments from Lucy/Kat and Sylvia and LC and Xara and Archie and Brad and Becky and Katharina.  The messages on GR from Matt and Luci and Laura.  And then I pulled out the letters from Christopher and the last letter from my cousin Val.

By the time I was finished I felt so much better, then I felt disappointed because DAMN Jack was fine.  But you know what?  There will be others, but more than that I found out how strong I am.  A few years ago, a statement like that would have sent me spiraling into depression, but today it just lit a fire under me to continue to live MY truth, regardless of who likes it.

{FIST BUMP AND SNUGGLES}
{HUGZ AND SQUEEZES}
Vic