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When a man proposes to a woman, he’s supposed to say something romantic, get down on one knee, and show the woman the ring. When Steven proposed, he did it at a time when I was feeling guilty as hell for being with him. That news story about the teenage male prostitutes, and Alex’s story, made it all click in my mind.
Two years into our relationship, and I’m finally starting to understand what makes a gay man. Forty-five years on Earth, and I finally get it. Gay sex and gay lifestyle are either the same or different; it depends on the man in question.
Through Dom, I have met countless gay couples; man on man, woman on woman, transgender on questioning, etc. In all of the cases of gay couples I knew, it wasn’t like two people who were exactly a perfect match up. No matter the couple, the men were always polar opposites, as were the women, and the trans couples. There is no formula for categorizing people that works in every instance. Like they say, different strokes for different folks.
Alex is either Steven’s soul mate or just another niggah that Steven paid to dick him down occasionally. Steven and I are either soul mates or just two people who found a way to make things work. Considering all of my past lovers and failed attempts at finding a soul mate, I was certain that Steven was here to stay.
But even though he knew I was going to marry him, and he knew that I was gonna be the best wife I could be for him, he thought it was an act of desperation on my part. As if I would ever enter into the sanctity of a marriage without knowing that I was with the man I planned to stay with forever. How much could he really think of me if he thinks some Prince Charming on a white horse could ever distract me from him?
When Steven finished talking, I looked at him hard because I wanted to curse his ass out, but as soon as I saw the look of fear on his face, I couldn’t find the profanity I needed to tell him how disrespectful, yet romantic, his proposal was to me.
I had to think about it. What did Steven just do? Did he insult me, or did he profess his undying love for me? Did he accuse me of being a superficial webcam girl, or was he confiding in me, his woman, his final insecurity as a man?
Through Alex, I learned that some men put on a brave face to hide the fact that they are filled with insecurities. The gag is, everyone is insecure on some level, but for whatever reason, gay men are so insecure that they can’t commit until they feel more secure.
In Alex’s case, money equals security, but in Steven’s case, it ain’t money. Every other gay couple that I know thrives on sex, saying it’s the most important thing in their relationship, but these days, Steven fucks me way more than I fuck him. Sex is my gift from Steven, and my enjoyment is his satisfaction.
But it seems like having him watch me fuck other men changed him from wanting to be fucked by a dildo to viewing it as me ‘faking’ sexual arousal. Even when I use the dildo with the vibrator attachment for my satisfaction, Steven doesn’t want it that way unless I take the Peachfuzz! If I take it, then it’s the same as him penetrating me; he goes along for my satisfaction.
In two whole years, as much as we fucked, and as much as we made love, and as many sets as he watched me work on, I couldn’t say that I pleased Steven sexually after that night in my apartment, which, once I really thought about it, made me even more convinced that if anyone was in fear of leaving anyone, it would be me fearing that Steven would be leaving me at some point.
However, looking into his face, seeing the masked insecurity that I see in all gay men’s faces today, I was certain that I was ready for marriage, but as for Steven, maybe he wasn’t thinking things through.
I had to be sure that he was in it for me, not for some fantasy about pleasing me, but because he knew that I was his match in every way, including sexually.
After what seemed like an eternity, I said, “So, I waited forty-five years for my man to come along and profess his love for me. And, as far as your love for me is concerned, I have never questioned it, Steven. I know you love me, and you would do anything I ask, but what else can you do?”
Steven didn’t reply. Instead, he put his head on my shoulder, putting all his weight on me, as if his body was limp.
I rubbed the back of his head, and continued, “Every woman wants to be loved, by default. But a woman also wants to be trusted, completely. As beautiful as your proposal was, in the sense that you confirmed that you love me completely, it showed me that you don’t trust me yet, Steven.”
Steven lifted his head, then looked at me sternly. “I do trust you, Josephine. I trust you with everything I have.”
“No, you don’t. I have your heart, and I have your anatomy, and all the material shit that you say doesn’t matter to you, but I don’t have your mind, Steven. Someone else has that. Is it Alex?”
Steven looked insulted. “How could you even think that?”
“Is it A-Dog?”
Steven laughed in a way to suggest that he could never want A-Dog.
“Well, it’s someone, or something. I don’t know, you tell me. Maybe it’s the elusive Tyler, I don’t know. Like I said, I don’t have your mind.”
Steven thought for a few seconds, then said, as assuredly as he had said anything up until that point, “There is no one else on my mind, Josephine. That’s not new, that’s how it’s been since I met you. When we moved in together, I knew there was no one else but you. When Alex showed up unannounced, there was something there, yeah, but it was a relic of our past, but by the time you got there, you proved that my best option as a gay man can’t hold a candle to you.”
I said, “Okay, let’s say I believe that. If it’s true, then why would you think that a woman who already gave up all control over her life would ever leave you?”
Steven didn’t say anything.
I laughed to myself, thinking I had him cornered, and said, “You think that way because secretly you know that I’m okay for now, but I’m not who you want. You love me now, but in the back of your mind, you’re turning your insecurities on me. I never questioned another man having you up until this moment. Before that, I would have slapped the shit outta any gay man who even tried to show you attention. But if I’m right, instead of slapping those motherfuckers, I should be getting to know them. Not to be their friend, but to help the man that I love most in the world find his version of happiness. I love you so much that I would sacrifice everything that we built together so that you could be happy. When you love with your mind and your body, you don’t question someone else, or something else. You invest everything knowing that you would do it all over again even after it fails because just a moment with that person beats an eternity without them. I can’t marry a man who loves me knowing that he doesn’t trust me completely.”
I slept on my set that night, and Steven didn’t bother me at all. He just stayed in bed alone.
The next morning, my male model showed up for our 7 a.m. shoot, and I went about my day. I wasn’t sad, because nothing had changed between Steven and me.
I still loved him, he still loved me, but his proposal was suspect, and I ain’t have time for that. Between starting our own company and gaining 1,000 members, we had really pissed off my old company. They assumed that their cam personalities were too stupid to ever compete directly with them, so they never made me sign anything saying I couldn’t go off on my own. However, as soon as we proved that my website was stable and secure enough to process payments, they learned that behind every cam girl could stand a smart man who helps ‘his girl’ take ownership of ‘her brand.’ I bet they making all their cam personalities sign non-competition clauses now.
I had been working six days a week to compete with the 1,000 personalities who were all itching to steal my fans, because I was still a brand. Although I had a boyfriend, and I ran the site that hosted my shows, I had spent the better part of twenty years building my clientele.
In the past, I never could find a man who was not only okay with what I did for a living but secure enough to watch me work and sweet enough to help me in any way that I needed on set.
I fired my production assistant when I moved in because Steven anticipates my needs, while the old bitch needed me to explain everything to her. Steven is my secret weapon in business and in life, so just because we weren’t engaged didn’t mean we weren’t a couple, it just meant that we’d had a bad conversation, in my mind.
My show started, and it was like Steven planned his move to start the moment I yelled action. He walked into the room and slammed the door behind him, so hard that it shook the walls. My cameras were positioned 360 degrees, so my fans and I watched as Steven began to strip down to nothing!
I didn’t know my male model was gay until Steven got naked. The look on that man’s face as he watched my Steven in his glory made me jealous!
I kicked the shit outta my male model and said, “Look at the floor when my fuckboy is in your presence, you peasant!”
Steven walked up to me and kissed me passionately on my lips, in a way that showed me and all of my fans that he meant it; Lil Stevie even raised up. Oh, Steven, you dog!
I had never seen him so assertive before, so self-assured in what he was doing. Okay, he down to be in one of my shows; finally!
I secretly dreamed of having fun with him on camera. Then he said, seductively, “I’m not your fuckboy, I’m your man, and right now, I’m not even here, because this shit ain’t real. What we have is real. I’m standing here naked, on webcam, letting God knows who see everything that I have because it’s all yours. Even though this show is fake, and this set is staged, and that poor man on the floor is hired help; when me and you are in the room, that’s all that’s real. I don’t care what you do in here by yourself, but when I come on your set, ass naked, that’s about as real as I can be, Josephine. But I’m not here to be a part of your show, I’m here to take you away from it.”
Steven got on one knee, and said, “I never feared leaving you for someone else. I feared being too insecure to give myself to you the way that you gave yourself to me. I didn’t know what you really saw in me. But now I see. You see the same thing I see in you. A love story. I love you, Josephine Lassel, and I am asking you to be my wife, with no fears, apprehensions, or second guesses. Josephine, will you marry me?”
I never understood why bitches cried on TV when their men proposed. I mean, I get being happy, but I never understood what the tears were all about. So I was disgusted with myself, because before I knew it, I was on the floor with Steven, hugging him, and kissing him, crying like a baby! The last thing I cared about was my fans, or my model, or my webcam show.
After forty-five years, I got the man that I always wanted, in a way that I never knew I wanted, and all I could do was cry and say, “Yes, yes, yes!”
Then he opened the box and showed me the biggest diamond I had ever seen before. It was elegant, the stone was blemish-free, and when he put it on my finger, it looked like it was meant for royalty. After a few moments, the ring lost all of its charms though. That man could have given me a silver band and I would have loved it all the same, because a bitch who never wanted a man to come and save her from anything finally realized that she had a man who had already saved her a hundred times over; just now, he saved her in a way for the world to see, well, at least the fans in my webcam world.
That was the last day I appeared on my webcam show. I still host the site and deal with the administration of the business, but my fans all had to find new personalities to commit to, including Dom. She will never admit it, but I know that she has played Steven’s engagement video at least 100 times, because I see all of the user data on the site. If Dom is not masturbating to my show, she not watching it on repeat; unless she also thought Steven’s proposal was so romantic that it was beautiful, and, like nothing else on God’s Green Earth, was enough to bring a tear to her forced masculine eyes.
A-Dog wept openly when we shared the news with him later that day. He was so overwhelmed that his legs started shaking. He made his way to the sofa to sit down and said, “Is this real? Am I dreaming? My bro getting married, to a lady? Oh, my God, I can’t breathe. I think I’m hyperventilating! Oh, God!”
Gay men, lesbian women, straight men—I don’t care who it is—everyone loves a true love story. Everyone except the haters.
Once I taped my final show, the haters started to come out of the woodwork, literally.