“Since You Asked” by Lem Billings

I was about to go through my day with Lacey leaving the sex scene in the last post up to your imagination. It should be obvious we had sex. I almost literally say that. But you all apparently see room for “questions.”

(Adult content below)

Alright. I moved my hands under her shirt and began sensually caressing her body, warming her with my hands and quickly finding my way up to her breasts. I ran my hands all over her body and pushed her onto my bed where I laid on top of her and began dry humping her until I took off all of our clothes and finally we had intercourse. Yes we kissed. Yes, we both orgasmed. What you refuse to picture is her. She’s just not who you want her to be and I’m not either. And you can’t lie about forever.

“What do you look like?” asks a gay man.

We look like these people. Except I’m not as perfect looking, although I’m more manly and she’s more feminine and better-looking. We’re far sexier…to be honest. And I’m more lost and passionate and she’s more…ladylike and innocent and sexy. …But…they’re a better representation of us than most people ever on film having sex.

No. It’s not narcissistic. Grow-up!

“Jack…why…are you in Minnesota?” asks a Millennial woman.

“Lookin’ for ass and pussy.” says JFK in 1935.

“Ya! He’s a cool-kid like me.” says JP Kennedy.

Return of the Mack by Mark Morrison plays as Jack tries to dance like a sexy…straight…Black man. At 20.

“Jack are you promiscuous?” asks a Millennial.

“Huh!?” asks Jack trying to Break Dance to Promiscuous by Nelly Furtado.

Lacey laughs. “Does everyone want you on their team, Jack?” Lacey asks him, teasingly.

JFK ignores her. Keeps dancing.

“Jack. Did you and Lem ever have consensual anal sex?” asks a living gay man.

Jack can’t stop dancing. He’s feeling the song. We have to wait for the song to be over.

“Okay. Sorry.

What!?” asks JFK, out of breath.

“Fuck.” says a Millennial mean girl. “Jack you’re one of us.”

He twerks to indicate a yes to her.

“Jack why 1917?” she asks.

He refuses to have such a serious conversation.

“Jack. …Answer my question!” says a living gay man seriously.

“Umm. Okay.

Well…okay. Ahh…so…what’s consensual? Right? Like…I mean…what is consent?

But…according to your specifications…probably not?” says JFK.

“So you just weren’t into it?” asks a Gen. X “straight white guy.”

“I wouldn’t say that!” says JFK.

“Noo!” screams the “white straight guy” from Gen. X looking horribly wounded. He falls to the ground dramatically. It’s possibly sincere misery. He psychically rolls around on the ground in pain and anguish. He’s lost a hero sex predator he preferred to think of as a straight person god of sex and source of personal inspiration and role model. He’ll be okay.

“SHIT!!” yells Joe Kennedy Junior. “You really needed us. To get your mojo.”

The “straight white guy” in Gen. X winces and nods in psychic pain.

The rest of the world and Black people look on with empathy. But it’s not their experience.

“Crap!” says the CIA.

The man cries out in pain.

“So he’s part of why we can’t let go of Lem?” says the guy from Bronski Beats with glasses.

“No. But you letting go of Lem…forces him to too.” says the dead CIA.

“I don’t understand why we have to.” say a huge number of gay men.