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visible from outside. Now that I had time to think about it, I decided he was probably putting on a show for both of us.

Jerome
 4 
    I read the last page of M.T. Pope’s drama-filled novel
Both Sides of the Fence
, snapping it closed before placing it on the bed next to me. “Damn, now that was a good read,” I said to myself, picking up my phone and dialing my best friend Loraine’s number. I’d started the book around five-thirty when I got home from work, and here it was a little after twelve and I was finished. I had to give Isis, my fellow book club member, a pat on the back. She’d made the recommendation of M. T. Pope’s book a few weeks ago, but I’d only picked it up today, because I’d already finished this month’s selection for our next meeting, and I didn’t have anything else to read. I didn’t usually read gay fiction, because most of the time, it just seemed like fantasy with everyone living happily ever after. But this book wasn’t just real; it was thought-provoking. I almost felt like I was reading about myself with the way the main character kept having relationships with married men.
    Yes, I had a thing for married men. I loved me a man with a ring on his finger, especially, if by chance, he was in denial and considered himself straight. Breaking in a supposedly straight man was always a challenge. When I finally turned them out, they would shower me with money and gifts for “showing them the light.” I smirked happily as I admired my well-decorated bedroom. Everything in it was given to me by some unsuspecting woman’s husband.
    “Hello.” Loraine’s voice on the other end of the phone snapped me out of my thoughts.
    “Hey, girl,” I said.
    “What you doin’?” she asked. “I thought you were with some man when I didn’t hear from you.”
    “I wish,” I replied. “All I been doing is reading. These lips ain’t seen a dick in three days. I think I’m going through withdrawal.” I fell back on my bed dramatically for effect, even though I knew she couldn’t see it.
    “You are a hot mess. You know that?” Loraine laughed. “If you’re so damn horny, why don’t you call Big Poppa?”
    The corners of my mouth curled up into a grin.
Big Poppa!
Just the sound of his name got me all worked up. Big Poppa was the nickname for my sugar daddy, and he sure was sweet. Loraine and I made up the name years ago, because he was, for lack of a better word, big. Really big. He was also the only man who could truly steal my heart if he wanted to. He was kind and sweet and treated me like gold when we were together. Ain’t no reason to lie; despite the fact that I saw other men, I was in love with him. There was no question in my mind that I would drop everything if he’d leave his wife and settle down with me. The only problem was, he wasn’t having any part of that. Shit, I could fix his favorite meal, then suck his dick until he was unconscious, but when he woke up, he would put his shit on and go home to his wife. Deep down, I think he loved me. It was our lifestyle he was afraid of. I’d gotten used to it by now, but I still hoped that one day he would realize we were meant to be together.
    “No can do, Loraine. I ain’t calling Big Poppa. He already told me not to call until the weekend. Last time I broke one of his golden rules, he cut me off for two months. So, I guess I’m just going to bed frustrated.”
    “Well, honey, I’m available if things get too backed up down there. A fake mustache and a strap-on and you’ll never know the difference from the back,” Loraine joked. We both laughed, but part of me always felt that she was only half joking when she made little comments like that.
    I’d known Loraine a long, long time, since we were in college at Virginia State, to be exact. Believe it or not, we even dated during our freshman year. To this day, she still swears I was her first; I know she was mine, male or female. Of course, that wasbefore I came out of the