As a male, my dick has been the center of my fascination for as long as I can remember. When I was four years old, I used to love to get naked and rub it against the refrigerator or couch or bedpost. I think I liked the sensation. When I became a teenager, I learned that if I jerked it long enough, something fantastic happened. I never stopped jerking. When I accepted that I was gay, I never knew what that would mean for my dick. I was more afraid of losing power. I was more afraid of being seen weak by other men because I liked men. I guess because I thought they would see me as “pussy.” I guess I was afraid of losing my symbolic dick.
It took me a long time to admit I was a “bttm.” I’d been gay for a long time, but that was my last secret. I would say that I was versatile, but I knew every time I ended up in a sexual situation, I was on the bottom. I was mostly attractive to what I considered masculine or dominate guys. But I didn’t want to admit that I was a bottom. I didn’t want to admit that I liked taking it up the ass.
Why did I hate being a bttm. First, I was a black male. That didn’t help. I was a black male who grew up in a family of boys, so I was masculine. That didn’t help. White men assumed I was a top because I was black and I liked the attention. Black men assumed I was a top because I was black and not overtly effeminate and I liked the attention. I secretly wanted to be a “top.” I wanted the power. I wanted the power of my dick. But I really didn’t like my dick. I didn’t think it was big enough. I was insecure
To tell the truth, I didn’t want to be a bttm because I didn’t want to be the “girl.” I remember the first time I gave it up. I was sixteen years old and he was twenty two years old. It was the back of my car. I met him at some gay club. He told me a lot of sweet nothings that night. I remember us being in the back of my car, he asked me what I liked to do, if I was a top or bottom, and I told him I didn’t know. I really didn’t. He decided to fuck me. It hurt like hell. He nutted. I didn’t. He didn’t even ask me if I wanted to nut. He didn’t care, he got his. I took him home. He didn’t call me for another month and that was for another booty call. I felt like a girl. I felt tricked and stupid. I had played those games. I gave up the ass without any insurance.
I was so confused after my first time. I didn’t want to be a girl. Shit, I was a boy. Boys were supposed to like sex. I didn’t want to be all uptight about my body. I wanted to soar my wild oaks. I wasn’t interested in marriage. I didn’t care about a reputation. I just wanted to fuck. I had been taught all the lines. I had talked girls out of their panties. I never thought someone would try to talk me out of my underwear. I didn’t see myself as sexual prey. I didn’t see myself as a girl. Girls were vulnerable. Girls needed to be protected. Girls could get pregnant. I was a boy. I was supposed to soar my wild oaks. I was supposed to not care.
After my first time, I wonder why he chose me to be the bttm. I figured because his dick was bigger. I figured he saw something in me that was weak and could be preyed upon. Maybe it was my youth. Maybe it was my insecurity.
I didn’t have sex for five years after the first time. At least I wasn’t a bttm again. After the first time, I told myself I would never bttm again. I didn’t like how it made me feel weak. I didn’t like the pain. I wanted to be the boy again. It wasn’t until I started becoming insecure about my dick that I felt I was stuck being a bttm. So many guys wanted to fuck me and I liked the attention.
It took me a long time for me to realize I wasn’t one of the boys. That my status had changed. And it was more than me being gay. It was about sex. It was what I did or didn’t do with my dick. I guess the first clue was gay porn. I started to notice that the bottom hardly ever got off. The bottom was there to just get fucked. Of course the bottom got paid less.
Honestly, it didn’t feel all that great in the beginning. Sometimes, I just took one for the team. And I think that’s how I started losing control of my body. I wanted to feel good. And then sex became emotional. My entire life since I discovered my dick, sex was only pleasurable. I’d jerk my dick for a reason. Sex since I was twelve years old always ended with me getting off. It was how I knew I was finished. But when I became a bttm, it wasn’t so black and white. Sex suddenly became emotional. I didn’t always get off. I would say 70% of the time I didn’t always get off with the top. I would get off later. I would get off by myself and that started to become frustrating.
I started to notice the more of a bttm I became, the more I started to feel devalued. Guys would tell me stupid shit like “keep it tight.” I started to become paranoid. The more of a bttm I became, I started to lose my identity. I became more silent. I just started going with the flow. I didn’t want to appear bitchy. I didn’t want to appear anything female-like. I was so damn conscious of not becoming the girl or what I perceived girls to be. I just wanted to be one of the boys. But because I was the bttm, I wasn’t always treated like one of the boys. Being the bttms was like demotion. I didn’t want to ask a thousand questions like a girl. I didn’t want to be clingy like a girl. I told myself I was just in it for the dick. I wasn’t the nurturing type. I didn’t cook or clean. So I was in it just for the dick. But the more I became a bttm, the less I felt like one of the boys.
I remember I went to a sex party, and it was mostly tops, and I remember feeling somewhat uncomfortable. I remember they were talking about other bottoms like they were just bitches, saying some guys hole was toxic or the other guy’s was too loose. I remember there was another bottom there, but he didn’t’ like me, he wanted to be the only bottom. All the tops got along but me and the other bottom had issues with each other like we were two girls. I didn’t like how that made me feel. The tops laughed and said bottoms never got along with other bottoms. And I was like, we were all guys. I thought I was just one of the boys. I thought we were just having sex. But it was more political. I remember this one guy wanting to fight me because he said that I was spreading rumors about him being a bttm at some sex parties. I thought that was interesting that he would think I was some 12 year old girl who went around telling other girls he was a slut. I didn’t tell his business. I didn’t care. But he cared about the reputation. If he was a “top” he wouldn’t had cared. It was political. It was stupid.
When I’m on the bttm, it’s a lot of work. It’s mental. I have to let go of my ego and enjoy the ride. It’s preparation. I had to go to extraneous measures to make sure I’m clean. I have to feel sexy. It’s more than just letting some guy stick his dick in me. I had to learn to arch my back. I had to learn to guide the dick in my ass, because if he hits a curve, it’s not comfortable. I had to learn to control my ass muscles. I had to learn to make the dick good for me. It was a lot of fucking work. It was a lot of mistakes. I had to take dicks for years for me to understand it. Nobody taught me how to be a bttm. I had to learn on my own. There wasn’t a top who guided me or taught me pleasure. I had to learn that on my own.
It’s not easy being a bttm. When I was on top, it was so easy. I just needed to get my stroke down and I was cool. I just needed a good solid three minutes of friction and I was done. But as a bttm, if I going to start the car, I’m going for a ride. I don’t want to start the car and never get out of the driveway.
The more I became a bttm, the more frustrated I became. I started to feel as if a good bttm wasn’t appreciated. I started to feel I wasn’t appreciated. I was devalued. I was just another fag. I didn’t want to be the girl. But was wrong with being a girl? Did I hate women? Did I think of women as weak? Because how I felt about women, was exactly how I felt about my sexual position. What was wrong with being the girl?
I kept thinking being the girl meant I was going to have to wear a dress, that I was going to have to learn to cook and clean and be submissive. I wasn’t the nurturing type. I was a boy. I was just in it for the dick.
What was freeing for me was accepting that I was sometimes the girl. Homosexuality was very heterosexual. That was truth. It didn’t matter how masculine or independent I was, every time I took on the bttm role, I became the girl. I needed to understand what that meant. I knew it meant I wasn’t going to allowed myself to be disrespected. I wasn’t going to give my power away. I wasn’t going to allow my body just to be used. If that meant I was a bitch or cunt, then fine! I wasn’t going to be men’s toilet. I wasn’t a trashcan where men came and dump their loads. I was more than just a hole. I was going to stop fucking with niggas who thought they could just get some ass and not please me. A lot of the bullshit was going to change. But that was so hard for me to do, because that meant less sex. If I was the type of bttm that gave away my ass to anyone, being a slut was easy. But nobody tells you that also being a slut is empty. Nobody cares about the slut. I used to think I was sexually liberated. I was a fool. I was a fool who liked attention.
I knew being the girl, I was going to have to understand my body. I was going to have to understand how it worked. I was going to have to stop being so obsessed with my dick. I was going to have to learn to please myself. I remember when I bought my first sex toy, I learned so much about my body and pleasure. It wasn’t that I didn’t need a man, it was more that I didn’t needed to be control by a man. I remember this one guy told me that I needed to learn to give my ass over, that I tried fucking with my ass instead of getting fucked. I was like, I need dick to assist me to pleasure, not control my pleasure.
So what is the point of this story? I woke up this morning thinking, I wonder if I had a bigger dick, if it was three inches longer and two inches thick, if I had the fantasy dick, a porn star dick, if I would be a bttm. It was an interesting question, because I know I would’ve probably attached my ego to my dick. When heterosexuals it’s so black and white, that men have dicks and women have vaginas, but with the gays, we have more of an option. The position is more emotional than physical.
I admit, I still have issues with being a bttm, nowadays I try to be more vers, but I really like being a bttm. I believe being a bttm has become emotional for me. I’ve trained my hole well. I more obsessed with my hole than my dick. I also don’t mind other bttms. I don’t see gay sex as so concrete. I can play with other bttms, also known as dyking. I probably could be in a relationship with another bttm because I know it’s emotional. I know now that being a bttm, having that identity is not about a role, but where I feel most comfortable. It’s emotional. If that makes me a girl, then I’m a feminist.