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“King Me”

Five years after shattering my knee and losing my future in football, I was still doing whatever I could to put everything back together. My knee was fine but the rest of me was still broken, no matter how convincing my façade was at any given moment. I finished college but couldn’t advance in the lane of my degree, so I decided to make money off of my looks. I became what is known as an Instagram model and influencer to make ends meet; meanwhile, I booked clients for private massages for some extra income. It was through my massage clientele that I met Thiago.

My clientele was nearly all gay men, so when Thiago Alencar-Ellis booked me, I figured it would simply be another routine massage. However, the moment he arrived at the Airbnb I was using that day, I felt something between us. It was sort of like the energy I’d feel whenever I was attracted to a woman but somehow deeper. I tried to put up an invisible wall but his eyes seemed to see through it and I knew he knew I was feeling something. I managed to massage him professionally without crossing any lines and he left with less stress than he’d entered with. That night, I got a call from him on my private number instead of my business number. I still have no idea how he got it.

“Rashad, my husband and I want you to spend this upcoming weekend with us,” he offered the moment I answered his call. “We live in a condo in Beverly Hills. You can stay in our guest suite. We’ll need you to get tested at the same exclusive clinic we go to for our own testing. There will be a non-disclosure agreement as well as a contract for your payment that will require your signature, of course. Are you interested in this opportunity?”

The sexiness of his accent fucked with my train of thought for a second, but I was able to get it together and tell him, “I’m interested.”

So, deep into my weekend with him and his husband, Brendan, I was still trying to wrap my mind around it all. I’d had my curiosities about what it would be like to have sex with another man but that was in college whenever I’d see a nice ass on a teammate or one of those track runners. The way I felt about Thiago was different. Just thinking about him would get me hard to the point where I’d have to masturbate for over an hour. While soaking in the tub of their guest suite bathroom, I did my best to relax and disregard any sort of negative energy. My mind was as opened as ever and my body was prepared to follow.

Me (Rashad Moore)

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“Late Night Refuge”

Ray made it his mission to annoy the fuck out of me that night. My mom had been married to Ray for about six years and he went from being an alright person to being this constantly angry man. It was like no matter how hard I tried to stay on his good side, he always found something to bitch about. So, I’d just gotten off of work that night and was in my room minding my business when he barged in like a crazy person to get on me about tracking dirt into the house when I walked in. We had a back and forth argument and then this nigga decided to push me in my own room. Needless to say, it got out of hand.

“No!” my mama screamed as she tried to keep me from hitting Ray back. “Khalid, stop it!”

“Move ma!” I shouted. “I don’t wanna hurt you but this nigga just put his hands on me! I am a grown ass man!”

“Then act like it,” Ray said.

“Ma, move!” I managed to get around her for a second and popped Ray one good time in the jaw. He stumbled back and fell, hitting the back of his head hard on my doorknob on his way down.

“Oh my God!” my mama cried as she bent down to help him. When she touched the back of his head and saw blood on her hand, she looked back at me and screamed, “Get out!”

“Are you for real? You’re throwing me out? He put his hands on me first.”

“If you don’t leave this house right now, I will call the police.” She turned her attention back to Ray and asked him, “Are you okay, baby?”

“I’m okay, Kim,” he told her. After they stood back up, he looked at me and said, “I want you out of this house.”

“You know what, fuck it! I’ll move out. I’m sick of this shit anyway. I work and pay bills around here but I don’t get treated like an adult! When you’re not treating me like a kid, you’re treating me like I’m a criminal even though I’ve never been in trouble. I finished high school and tech school and I am gonna own my own mechanics shop one day. When I make it, I don’t wanna hear shit from you.”

“Whatever,” said Ray. “You have done nothing but make your mother upset lately. You come in at odd hours on the weekends, bringing your little boyfriends of the night in here with you.”

“Oh, so we’re back to you having a problem with me being gay?” I sat down so that I could unplug and shut down my MacBook while also getting on my phone to text a friend. I looked at my mama and told her, “I hope you enjoy throwing your only child out over a bigot, ma.”

Me (Khalid Mosley)

“He is not a bigot,” she snapped. “He’s right, you have no respect for us. You bring guys over here and play loud music so we can’t hear you in here having sex. It’s disrespectful, Khalid.”

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“2 Boys in a Bando”

And to think it all started with me posting a pic on Instagram that late Friday night, hours after the basketball game I’d attended with my friends. Well, Anquan had been displaying what I’d heard my friends describe many times as classic DL signs, but it wasn’t until I posted the pic that I got confirmation that he actually was DL. He invaded my DMs just two minutes after I’d posted that pic; which meant he was already stalking my shit that night. Our chat in the DMs wasn’t long and his demands were direct.

Park at the stop sign up the street from his house.

Walk around his house using the side alley to the abandoned house behind his house.

Come in through the back door of the abandoned house.

Take the stairs and enter the second door on the right.

I was told by my friends that DL boys were paranoid as fuck but I wasn’t expecting to go on some mission just to get some dick. However, it was my first time and there was no way I could turn down having my cherry popped by Anquan Miller. The only reason why I was the only one out of my group of friends holding onto my virginity was because no boys ever hit me up. I guess that’s why I posted that pic of myself. I was so glad it worked. My wait wasn’t in vain.

Me (Toby McCallister)

The abandoned house—or bando as he referred to it—wasn’t that bad looking inside and somehow the power was on. I was expecting a cold and disgusting place but it was actually warm and decent in there. There was no furniture but the carpet was clean and it didn’t smell bad at all. He had a light on upstairs but it must have been a small light because it didn’t brighten the dark house too much; only casting a little thin stream of light on the stairs. I followed the light to the second door on the right like he’d said and noticed the door was slightly open. I stepped inside and there he was sitting on a twin-sized memory foam mattress on the floor in nothing but his underwear, black socks, an Under Armour cap, and a blanket wrapped around him.

Anquan Miller

“Does anybody know you came here, Toby?” he asked.

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morrisondauthor

“Bullseye”

The streets had a code and even though I respected that code, I had to do what I had to do. When Trikk killed my brother, I went rogue. I knew that going after Trikk would put my own boss in a world of trouble but I had to do it. My actions would probably cause a new street war but I had no choice. Trikk ran the eastside and my boss, Murda, ran the westside. They had a truce but that shit had been shaky for a minute. So, I spent weeks planning on how to avenge my baby brother’s murder. All of that planning went to waste when I learned something unknown about Trikk.

Me (Sloan)

“Close the fuckin’ door,” I said to Trikk’s trick. I could tell he was still in shock from me being in the dressing room with my pistol aimed at him. He closed the door and I quickly told him, “Put your hands on the wall.”

“What is this about?” he asked. “Who sent you here?”

“Nigga, either put your hands on the wall or I’m gonna have to splatter your brains all over this mothafucka!”

“Okay, okay.” He put his hands on the wall and looked at me without saying anything.

Cass

“Is anybody else comin’ back here?”

“Not right now. But the club is about to close so…”

“A’ight, shut up. You need to get dressed and come with me.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m the nigga with the gun. You don’t need to know more right now. Get dressed.”

I stood there and watched him change out of his stripper outfit, if it can even be called that. Once he was dressed and had his stuff ready to leave, I put a towel over my wrist to hide my pistol and pressed it to his back so that he would know not to try anything. I was prepared to kill his ass if I had to. Lucky for him, we made it out of the club without anyone noticing anything. We made our way across the street to the parking garage where I’d parked my Dodge Charger. I unlocked the doors with my alarm remote and made him get in.

“Are you gonna kill me?” he asked before I could start the car.

“No,” I answered. “Not if you do exactly what I need you to do.” I started the car and asked him, “Does anyone live with you in your apartment on Ridgeview Street?”

“How do you know where I live?”

I laughed a little and admitted, “I know everything about you, Cassius Talbert. Everything.”

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“Practice Makes Perfect”

I will never forget my greatest sexual experience. It was back in 2007 during my freshman year of college. I was back home in Leimert Park visiting for the weekend ready to have some fun but none of my close friends were home that weekend. My little sister was now a senior at my old high school and although we made plans to hang out, she decided to abandon our plans so that she could go on a double date with her best friend and two guys they’d met the prior week at the mall. I would’ve been mad at her if I weren’t so damn proud.

“Leave your hair alone, Riley,” I said to her from my bedroom. “It looks great already.”

She appeared in my doorway and asked, “How in the hell did you know I was messing with my hair?”

“Because I know you. Sis, you’ve been on a million dates already. Relax.”

“Ryan, you don’t understand how fine this boy is. He’s way finer than the boy who likes Candace. I cannot wait for Candace to get here. I know they’re probably already waiting on us.”

I sat up in bed and said, “Well, I hope you have fun while I’m here bored out of my mind.”

“Aw, Ryan.” She sat down on the other end of my bed and offered, “I’m sorry for changing my plans on you but I had no idea Chris and Jason were going to ask me and Candace out on a double date. How about we go shopping tomorrow? I know you probably want to take something cute back to Berkeley on Sunday.”

“Sounds good…only if you agree to pay for food afterwards.”

“Okay, deal.” The sound of a car horn blowing outside caused her to jump up from my bed. She headed back towards my door but turned back and said, “I hope you find something to do tonight, big brother.”

“Yeah, like watching TV with mama and dad.” I rolled my eyes and smiled as I told her, “Have fun on your date.”

Me (Ryan Campbell)

“You know I will. Goodnight.” She hurried out of my room and I soon heard her footsteps going downstairs.

I moved over to my window and looked down just as she was running out to her friend Candace’s car. They sped off down the street and the moment they turned the corner, Tremaine’s Camaro drove in from the other direction. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing at first but immediately snapped back into reality as he pulled into his driveway. Tremaine Brooks was a boy who was on my high school’s football team and lived next door. He’d also been the guy I thought about the most whenever I masturbated.

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