I couldn’t believe I was heading to the gym to meet this brother. I’d never kicked it with a guy before, so I guess you could say that I was curious and nervous. I knew that I wasn’t gay and I was extremely into women sexually. After all, I never had a problem getting women to kick it with me. All I had to do was hit the club, throw a little game their way, flash a little ice, and they were hooked. Lately though, I had a desire to follow my curiosity and see why I was becoming more attracted to dudes. In the past, I used to ignore these feelings thinking there was nothing wrong with me and that every guy had them. I figured every guy checked out the next to size up his competition.

I was constantly staring brothers up and down, checking to see who was tighter, cuter, and, if I was in the locker room, who was packing more. And although a brother would never admit it to anyone, he always needed to know if someone else had something that could make his girl want to stray. Not that I had to worry about the latter. I had more then enough to satisfy the ladies.

Call it what you want, but I’d been thinking about being with a dude non-stop for a while. Sometimes when I was with a girl and we were freaking, I’d start imagining that I was with a dude instead. I always heard lesbians say that only another woman could know how to truly love a woman, and I’d spent many hours wondering if it was the same with guys. That is, if it took another man to satisfy a man for him to obtain complete sexual gratification.

I’d started doing a little research on brothers who crept on the low. That is, guys kicking it with women and men. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to be with a guy like that. I could see myself allowing one to give me a little head, but that’s about it.

Even when I wanted to ignore my growing feelings and concentrate on being with just a woman, it got hard. It seemed like everywhere I went someone was always talking about brothers on the DL, the down low. If I turned on the television, there was Oprah and Tyra talking about it; if I turned on the radio, the V-103 deejays were dishing out their views about it; and if I went to the grocery store, Essence and Jet had the “phenomenon” flashed in bright letters across its covers. Regardless, I decided to stop ignoring my feelings and go with the flow wherever it led me.

I wouldn't lie and say that I didn't once stereotype all gay brothers as the girl acting-switch walking-soft talking-limp wrist-makeup wearing faggots that society defined them as. Not that those types didn’t exist, but there were equally, if not more, gay guys that played sports, worked out, and dressed like any other brother around. I was more attracted to those types.

I pulled up to the gym, put the car in park, grabbed my bag, then hesitated. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to make this move. I knew once I went in there’d be no turning back. My curiosity would intensify and soon my curiosity would lead me into acting on my desires, thoughts, and feelings. I was scared to death.

I couldn’t imagine my mother finding out that I kicked it with guys. God only knows how my little brother or the rest of my family would react. I never gave up my dreams of having a wife and kids. I’d always wanted three boys and two girls and maybe a dog. I still wanted the house in the suburbs, the white picket fence, and all the bullshit that we’ve been taught was the American Dream. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to throw all of that away. And I knew there’d be no way I could have a wife and a male lover on the side although there were many men that did.