I don't know what all the fuss is about. Really. I mean, it's 2013 and we're not ready for a gay NBA player? Here we are, in the new millenium, and people are this freaked out about the thought of my beautiful lips around another man's cock?
What's the big deal? Look, I get it. I'm the first one to come out while playing professional ball. But I'm sure as hell not the first tall, handsome man to want to sink his tall, handsome, turgid member deep into another man. Hell no! Shit, there've been plenty of guys before me. Plenty of sexy, butch guys, with strong jaw-lines, exquisitely sculpted butts, and just the right amount hair on their chests who enjoy the sights, smells and tastes of other similarly gorgeous men.
What? You're telling me the thought of penetrating a man's tight yet welcoming anus in the missionary position while simultaneously stimulating his growing erection isn't a little intriguing to you? Okay, well how about being taken from behind, entered powerfully yet slowly until your prostate is hit in just the right way to push you inexorably towards an earth-shattering orgasm while his supple pectoral muscles press into your back?
C'mon man. In the 2010-11 season, I had a better field goal shooting percentage than Kobe, Chris Paul, Carmelo Anthony AND the suspiciously named Rudy Gay. And I did it in Atlanta. ATLANTA. You got any idea how hard it is to score a sexy twink in Atlanta? This ain't Chelsea. Or San Francisco. Shit, it ain't even Austin, TX. But I put up those numbers without nearly the sexual relief accorded to my straight counterparts. Except when we played the Lakers. Hoooweee! I met a guy in West Hollywood. We went for sushi, had some lovely conversation and then when straight back to my hotel room, put on a cock ring and just went to town. Because that's how I roll. Put up 20 points and 15 rebounds against Kobe and the Lakers the next night! Boom! Nothing like the taste of perineum to get you riled up for a big game.
So get the fuck over it. Pussies.