D*CK FOR TRICK - A DISCOVERY

It can be quite amusing to read about one’s self through the words of another. It becomes more interesting too, to read what the other person thinks of you after you had a short “affair” with him.

I was surfing through blogs and I came across into this one from a Baby Brian. He gave out details in what he wrote that pretty much, well, described me. (I took the liberty of editing what he wrote. There are certain details in his post that would reveal the identity of this writer. I also purposely, did not link him here, for reasons of privacy.)

____________

And Baby Brian wrote:

"Now I remember another guy.

He's really a big guy. I found him online and flirted a bit then got his number. Soon we became textmates, I found him very friendly and accommodating despite the impression I have for him based on his photos. He's very pinoy, muscled, skinhead, in fact he can be mistaken as a bouncer or a bodyguard. Yum, yum. text, text.

But I became uninterested for awhile. Until I've learned about his real profession. One time when I texted to finally meet him, he told me he's outside to meet a client. What could he be doing in life, pops my thought bubble. Now i'm getting hurnier to finally meet him.

My lucky day came. We agreed what time to meet and where. I was very excited. So I fixed myself and headed for P***y along L*******. I took the MRT-LRT route so it's shorter and convenient. On my way, I've been thinking of how to devour this really big chunk of meat.

I waited for him at Jollibee, and told me he's on his way. And there he was, a big hunky Pinoy guy. I was dying inside. He asked me to follow him on his studio. We took a small walk along the market. It was such a very busy place. He opened a shop-like apartment and led me to the third floor of the building.

Paintings were all over the place. He was an artist. I was actually shocked when I found out he did a design for my favorite, very wonderful book, and he's a close friend of the painter of the book. My mind was fighting if I should go on with my hurny plans, because I don't know if I would like to leave a bad reputation for him. Since 'our' artist world is just small. What if he'd tell everyone about this dirty trick?

After getting my soft spot, he showed me his package. God, what a big hooded chunk of meat! What the heck, I wouldn't pass a chance like this I told myself. So the thing that supposedly happen, happened. The red leather sofa by the big window, among the buildings outside and the busy people below, was our witness. I sucked the biggest jello of my life.

I'd really like to keep him, because something's common between us and who knows it might develop into something. But he never gave that big interest in me, nor keeping the tie of friendship. Probably because I was so young then. So I let him free.

The world is really small that he designed one of my books. He was there at my book launch but we never even bothered to throw a look at nor say a word at each other. The place was so small, and how uncomfortable it was. This is what I've been avoiding. But what was done has been done.

Maybe some other chance."

MEAT BURGERS AND MASTURBATING MOMENTS

“I pleasure myself every now and then whenever I feel horny,” Socorro confided to me while I was digging into my thick and juicy one-pounder hamburger, grilled just the right way here at Brother’s. I particularly like it when the meat’s juices would just simply drip down the corner of my mouth like some barbarian expression of a long-held ritual signifying guttural satisfaction.

“Oh. Really?” I said.

“You look as if you’ve never heard or seen a female masturbating,” she was now talking closer to me, her voice lowered to almost a whisper. She was so close to my face that I can see the reflection of my surprised expression on her pupils.

“I have seen it on porn, yes. I have watched dancing naked women on stage intimating masturbation, but I’ve never heard nor seen any female I know who’s actually doing it,” I admitted to her and still wearing an awed expression. “Besides, I thought you’re still a virgin.”

“Helloo… I may never have been skewered yet like a roast chicken, but I still am a functioning female with lust in my body,” her eyes narrowed.

“Do you use, you know, “toys” or do you have one of those fake cocks?” I asked her in a much lowered tone unless I want the newly arrived couple at the next table to hear us.

“No, I don’t,” she said, while she took a wedge of her French fries, “So I guess I still am technically a virgin since I never had anything inside me yet.”

“Okay. Not even your finger??”

“Not even that. And don’t ask me if I used a vegetable. Never. None. Nada,” she stressed.

“Alright, I get the point,” I defended.

And at that point, there was an awkward silence. The couple beside us was chattering, talking about the girl resigning and how her boss wouldn’t sign her papers saying that she’s indispensable to the company. The guy kept on telling her that she shouldn’t for she’s taking a big risk in transferring mid-career.

I chewed my last remaining burger and Socorro just kept on stirring the mayo with another wedge of her fries from the plate.

After a few seconds, I broke the silence. “So, how do you… get off?”

“You know what?! That’s the problem with you guys – even you gay men. You think women are aliens and that we don’t know how to even jerk off like you do. Well, guess what, we have a clitoris. It’s our version of your cock. I rub it. See? With either of these two fingers. And when I cum, I can actually cum several times, like any other normal woman with a functioning vagina. Satisfied?” with two of her fingers stretched on her raised hand, she hissed at me in an agitated whisper loud enough that the couple at the other table stopped talking and from the corner of my eyes I could see them stealing glances at us.

… and then silence.

“You know what?” I told her, “Some guys like to “finger” too.”

“Huh?”

“The other day I met this guy. He gave me a blowjob,” I told her.

“So? What about it? You always get blowjobs anyway,” she asked wiping her fingers of the oil from her finished fries.

“Well, while giving me head, he also jerked himself off. And while he was doing all these, I saw him spread his legs and thrust his finger up his butt. He was like multi-tasking. Hmm, come to think of it, he was quite a talented guy,” I thought.

“Pretty flexible too I suppose. Don’t worry, once I’ve found my guy, I’ll do that too,” she said.

“You mean, suck, fuck and finger? Wow… either you need two hands and a cock or two cocks and a hand. You women have more holes to fill than a guy. You’re wild,” I reminded her.

“Hahaha, look who’s talking? You’re a huge fucking faggot,” she exclaimed.

“And you’re a horny virgin who really needs to be filled,” I told her and we both laughed.

Then from the corner of my eyes, I saw the couple beside us hurriedly took their bags and quickly left the place.

TRANNY TOILETS

Thai school gets trans bathroom

SUMMARY: More than 200 of the 2,600 students at Kampang School in northeastern Thailand consider themselves transgender, a survey last term found.

Wed Jun 18, 6:21 PM ET

By Associated Press

For teen boys who prefer to dress as girls at one rural high school in Thailand, taking a bathroom break no longer means choosing between "male" and "female" restrooms. There's now a ''transvestite toilet.''

The Kampang School in northeastern Thailand conducted a survey last term that showed more than 200 of the school's 2,600 students considered themselves transgender, said school director Sitisak Sumontha.

So, when classes resumed in May, the school unveiled a unisex restroom designated by a human figure split in half -- part man in blue and part woman in red. Below it are the words "Transvestite Toilet."

Three transgender students praised the new restroom as they plucked their eyebrows and applied face powder in front of the mirror outside the stalls.

"I'm so happy about this," Vichai Sangsakul, a teenager with a pixie hairdo pulled back with a pink barrette, told Thailand's PBS news channel Tuesday. "It looks bad going to female restrooms. What would other people think?"

Most rural Thais are conservative in many ways, but the trailblazing toilet initiative at the school in northeastern Sisaket province reflects another aspect of Thai society: its tolerance of the country's very visible transgender community. In Thailand, the term describes a wide range of identities including cross-dressers, transvestites, transsexuals and those born with the physical characteristics of both sexes.

"These students want to be able to go to the restroom in peace without fear of being watched, laughed at or groped," said school director Sitisak Sumontha.

He said the concept reflected a growing need at Thai schools and universities.

Kampang is not Thailand's first educational institution to set up unisex washrooms, though Sitisak said he believed it was a first for a secondary school. A 1,500-student technical college in the northern province of Chiang Mai set up a "Pink Lotus Bathroom" for its 15 transvestite students in 2003.

Deputy Education Minister Boonlue Prasertsopar recently said the ministry plans to count the number of transgender university students.

He said he was not promoting transgender interests, "but if there are a lot of them in a university and it's a problem, we may have to consider building toilets and dormitories for them."

Transgender people are regularly seen on TV soap operas and throughout Bangkok, working at department store cosmetics counters, popular restaurants, in office jobs and in the capital's red-light districts. Thailand also has transgender beauty pageants. (AP)

GOD'S WISDOM

GOD is indeed wise.
He never gives everything to one man alone.

If HE hasn't given this person a good plastic surgeon, at least HE's given him some money to buy nice-looking underwear.

I wonder where this guy got that leopard print undie.

Cheers! :-)

LAKAS LOOB LAMANG

Gay men are known for setting the standards for physical beauty. Many gay men are also known for making the plain and common shine out. Many local beauty contests have gay men as movers and shakers. Heck, remove gay men from the set-up of these contests, you might as well have Madame Auring as the party planner of Bb. Pilipinas.

On the subject of male beauty contests, it still is the gay man that plans these well. With female beauty contests, the gay man simply puts himself as the contestant wanting to be the belle of the night. With male version, the gay man simply puts in his ideals of the man that will sweep him off of his dainty feet.

BUT, somehow, the Filipino gay man still has to learn the ropes in selecting contestants when it comes to GAY MALE beauty contests. It usually turns out into a travesty.

I saw a poster of another one of those Gay ("Bisexual" for those who cannot stomach to actually say the "G" word) Male Beauty contests. Looking through all the pictures, I can't help but wonder exactly how thick was the foundation they placed on their faces that made them look like overly-photoshopped apparitions on their mugshots?

Some of them don't even look like they're of legal age, and some well...


I wonder, if THIS GUY below won the title of "Mr. Photogenic" in THAT contest above, are the judges of that contest actually gay men OR a half-dead drugged out straight guy who has an axe to grind.

























Hmmm, I think it would have been more fun if he wore a Wonder Woman costume.
























I just wanna know if his friends are still talking to him.























Peace!

CLOTHES - WHO NEEDS 'EM?

This is the video catalogue for a clothing company called SHAI.

I wonder how their window displays would look like in department stores.

Hmmm.... enjoy!

(Oh!! And I like the belt.)

JINGLE BELL MIKE

May ibang tao magaling makaalala ng mukha o pangalan. Tanungin lang nila pangalan ng isang tao eh maaalala na nila ito, kahit after ten years pa. Ako… hmmm, I have a pretty bad memory. Niloloko ako ng mga kaibigan ko na meron daw akong “memory gap”. Minsan, kapag nagkakaganahan sa biruan eh tinawag na rin akong Dory – yung azul na isda na nakasama ng tatay ni Nemo sa paghahanap. Yun yung isda na mayroong short-term memory loss.

Pero ang totoo eh, I don’t take the effort to remember someone if he or she doesn’t strike me at all or in particular, sa dami ng naka-one-night stand ko, eh di ko maalala ang nakararami sa kanila. Harapin na rin natin ang katotohanan na would a sexually-active individual guy such as I was would keep a tab of the guys I screwed and played with? Not!

There had been several times that I would bump into someone, say in a mall, that I know I have met and had sex with before. We’d lock eyes and there’d be that glint of recognition. Yun bang pakiramdam mo eh gusto niyang lumapit sa iyo pero hindi niya gagawin kasi makikita niyang pinatay-malisya mo siya. Kumbaga, you didn’t see anything at all. Hehehe, dedma na lang.

Pero, merong mga pagkakataon na meron kang muling makikilala na naaalala niya LAHAT ng detalye ng gabing kayo ay “naglaro”. Ganyan si Mike o ang tinatawag ko na “Jingle Bell”.

“Peter, I’d like to introduce you to someone. This is Mike, my friend. He works as a sales rep for _____ Corp.,” said my friend John the social butterfly in Government, and then as fast as he came he left after a few pleasantries.

“Hi,” said Mike.

“Hi there. I’m…”

“Yeah, I know who you are. You don’t remember me?” said Mike, trying to say it above the din of the music in that club.

“No. Sorry. Have we met before?” I shouted at the top of my lungs.

“Yes we have. You’ve invited me to you place before. You know… we had fun. You don’t remember do you?” while holding his bottle of beer with one hand, the other was already grasping my elbow.

“Really. Sorry. You’d have to forgive me but I really don’t remember,” I shouted back.

“Maybe this will remind you,” his hand traveled swiftly from my elbow down to my crotch. Like a sudden gush of electricity, the energy of the club’s music traveled from my grin to my groin and I knew right then what I had to say.

“Hmmm… I may not remember, but that feeling I definitely cannot forget,” I grinned my alcohol-laced lips at him. “Malapit lang ako dito, gusto mo ituloy natin ito sa lugar na mas private?”

“Sure. Cityland, right?” Mike said.

I was surprised he knew where I live. Pero syempre, naunahan na ako ng libog. Kaya, ibinaba na lang namin ang aming mga bote sa bar at agad-agad na umalis.

Sa taxi pa lamang ay halos isubsob na niya ang kanyang mukha sa pagitan ng aking mga hita. “Not here. Pagdating natin sa unti ko,” sabi ko. “Yeah… Cityland 9. Sixth floor. Mag-isa ka pa rin don?” sagot niya.

Kahit na pilit ko pa ring inaalala kung sino siya, pinigil ko sarili kong tanungin pa siya at sinabi ko na lang, “Oo.”

________

Dahil siguro sa magkahalong kalasingan, kalibugan at pagnanasa sa mga labi niyang malalambot, inabot kami halos kalahating oras ng matindi at mainit na halikan sa ibabaw ng aking sofa. We only parted lips when I felt the need to tell him, “Iihi muna ako. Sandali lang.”

I went to the toilet to release the contents of my bladder and he followed me. At the doorway, he stood there half-naked and told me, “”You haven’t changed a single detail of your room. I see you still have the same yellow pillow like before and thatTtanduay calendar stuck on the wall.”

That last comment made me think really hard. Have I really had sex with this guy before?

When I faced him, I saw the tent between his legs building up nicely. In the light of the toilet I can fully see a really nice, silken chest and a devilish smile that I only want to eat, eat and eat. I grabbed him by the waist, brought him to me and grappled him on to the toilet wall and wiped away the smug grin off his face with a series of heavy tonguing and deep kisses. I then slowly went down on my knees letting my tongue travel down that smooth chest, slide down to his navel and let it slowly and steadily go down to the prize. My fingers grasped the waistband of his underwear and let it pulled it down.

When his manhood came into full view, I was amazed at how much anticipation it had built up. It sprung to life like it had a mind of its own greeting me with a silent smile as if to say, “Hello. I am all yours tonight. Eat me.”

It was firm, had a nice, steady and has a sexy bottle shape, and… and…what I saw dangling was the most unusual protuberance on a protuberance. IT had a small tiny piece of flesh jiggling beneath the head like uncut piece of foreskin left there after circumcision.

“Tinggil” ang minsa’y narinig kong itinawag dito. It was like a tiny little “Jingle bell”.

Then, as sudden as the wave of lust that came over me, the memory started to flood my mind as to who this guy was. Pointing at his penis, I uttered a surprised cry, “MIKE!! Yeah, I remember you now. JINGLE BELL!” and I looked up to him with a wide grin on my face.

_________

Matapos ng maikling rebelasyon sa aking isip kung sino siya, nagtawanan kami. “Siguro sa ganyang paraan mo naaalala ang mga nakakasex mo ano? Sa hugis ng titi nila.”

“Mike naman. Tell me. Gaano karami ang mga lalaki na may ganyang Jingle Bell sa e-tits nila?” sabi ko sa kanya.

“Hehehe, at least naaalala mo pa ako. Tara na, sex na tayo Peter. Fuck me ulit like before. Sarap mo pare.”

“Oh sige… Jingle Bell. Hehehe...”

GOODBYE LOVER, GOODBYE FRIEND

This is a letter of goodbye written to a lover back in 2004. It was a good time until the truth caught up with me and I had to bid farewell...

________

Dear Ramon,

It has taken me several letters to write this down, and I hope this last one would be able to say all the things that I want to tell you.

I wake up today feeling a deep sense of dread. I paced back and forth here in my room asking myself if I should or should not write you. The one who cares so much in me decided that I should.

You have been a deep influence in my life for the past three months since we first saw each other in your car. That Sunday evening when you invited me and I first glimpsed you in the dark, the first thought that ran into my mind was, “This is going to be another interesting one-night stand.” It did turn out to be quite interesting… and it evolved into so many things that I thought I would never experience again. It was an adventure knowing so many things about you, that sometimes it became too heady. It bore upon me so much that I lost sleep thinking of so many things about you and made me see things in me that I thought was not there anymore.

I had this thought that I carried for the past few years thinking that I will never fall in love again. But with you, I did. I asked myself countless times before I professed it. I was even quite careful not to enunciate it until I was sure of myself. Eventually, I did and I don’t regret any part of it.

I told you so many things about me, and you did too. You showed me your life. You told me your past. You even showed me part of your dreams. I clearly remember asking you what your deepest desire was but you couldn’t give an answer. You know what? You did. When you showed me your house, I found out what it was. You want to build a family of your own and that house was the beginning of it. You shaped it according to what you desire for yourself someday. The pictures of your nieces were quite telling. You someday dream of having children of your own with a loving wife and a warm home. Now that I think about it, I am quite glad you made me see that part of your future.

You showed me pictures of Maryanne. I saw in her a woman deeply in love with you. In her is a woman who has latched upon you her hopes for someday to become a proper wife to a good husband, to care for him, to nurture him, to build a home with him. To a woman that’s the culmination of every desire she has in life and has prepared for. I have seen and known that so well amongst the closest females in my life, beginning with my own mother up to my closest friend.

You showed me another part of your life – the one that you allowed me to share with you. In total contrast to the house you built, to the future that you see yourself in with Maryanne, the apartment you shared with James is a picture of a life you have lost control of.

I didn’t keep from you the way I reacted when you first allowed me to enter the confines of that apartment. I was appalled. It was in disarray and confusion. You tried so hard to keep things in order and yet you cannot. Behind the door of that apartment, life, as you have known for the past few years, is crumbling. You know that pretty well. In fact, I don’t even have to say it to you but I will.

I do not doubt the care you have for James. You’ve shown it several times in the way you tell of him and the lengths you have to go to in order to show him you still care and love him. That night, listening to a radio program you both shared, I saw in your eyes the fondness of a past lived and still wanting to have. I also quite remember several instances when you’d have to fetch him because you think he is incapable of taking care of his own way home to your shared apartment. The things I saw in there revealed so much on how you can care for someone totally different from you. You are introspective and he is not. You are well ordered while he is an anti-thesis to the concept. You pride yourself with your accomplishments, whilst he, much older than you, is still smarting from the lack of it and is struggling still to stand on his own.

I admire the way you try to help him. I admire the way you try as you might, to give him the will to stand again. I admire the sense of direction that you try to bring back into his life. I even admire the way you are grateful for the things that he has done for you – for how he has taught you the basic necessities of single living. I admire the duty you have for him. If only you were his husband (or wife) you would stand proud amongst the plethora of partners who persevered in a committed relationship. Unfortunately, you are not.

I see in your eyes the disappointments with him. His failures have caused in you a deep wound, for how can someone who has taught you so much fail you in the end? You even admitted that you are unsure if he still loves you. And yet you stay.

It is clear to me that you met me, and so many others, thinking that you will find in others an image of the James you once knew. I don’t have to mention the others, but it is clear that many of them failed you as well. You say you admire me for my brain, that I can see through the many layers you’ve woven around yourself. You say you admire Raymond for his maturity and the way he says things to you that you like to hear. I tell you, you are longing to see James the way you knew him before. I do hope I am wrong in this assumption. But every time you speak of him, every time you say his name… your eyes cannot betray your longing.

Ramon, despite the fact that you both share the same bed, you have drifted apart. He has long drifted from you and you are now left with a memory. You said to me once that you feel so alone and I told you that you don’t have to. To hear it from you, it was so heart-rending. I still shed a tear. For how could someone so sure of himself be lost in his own sadness? How can someone, who repeatedly said that he is happy and has peace, be not? You look for love and a sense of belonging from others thinking that the wound of longing for a lost love be healed in the laps of other men. You looked for it in me and I have blindly given it, thinking I could give it and hope for something in return. But what tears me apart, is that you will eventually be looking for healing in the embrace of someone who truly loves you and is about to commit herself to you. And here, I speak of Maryanne.

I mentioned that it is every woman’s desire to be a wife and a mother. Their nature dictates it. From them life will spring forth. Hope will be nurtured and bred from their wombs. Maryanne is not exempt from this. From the actuations that she has shown in your descriptions, she is about to embrace her eventual future with you. And it is in us men who have chosen a woman, to give ourselves fully in partnership to fulfill our part in bringing forth this life and sharing in it. There can be no room for mistakes.

She has expectations from you. Expectations that you are fully aware of – a proper house, a proper life and a proper husband. No more, no less. For a woman, nothing is more precious than a child. A child completes her. And it is a man’s duty to be complete for his woman and his child. Now I ask you, how complete will you be for her? And I ask again, the same way I asked you last Friday… how much do you love her in order for you to complete her?

I accept the fact that we met in strained circumstances. I now even look back thinking, I do not regret having known you, even when everything was in vain. I am a man who fell in love with a man who is longing for a lost love with another. To you, it is not normal. To me, I accept it as part of my humanity. The irony of it is I persisted, knowing our values are different. Even now, deep inside me, I hope for you to be here. But that will never be. I even think you are incapable of being even a friend with those you’ve had shared intimate moments with, including me. It saddens me if I find out that I am right; that all you said before were mere sugar coated lies just to please my ears. But they don’t matter. I am going to be a mere memory years down the road.

What saddens me more is you are about to embark on a path where you will eventually be making a vow to someone who you profess your love to and is about to give her entire life to you, and you will be building that on sandy soil.

I have known many men who began their married lives thinking everything is in order, as long as they can keep their secrets well hidden. Here’s an irony; despots do that. Men who make other people suffer do that. Men who conquer and divide do that. Keeping secrets is a strategy every man who desires to have everything in life use well. You are an intelligent man who keeps secrets. You will eventually do that as well.

What prompted me to say this? The knowledge you’ve given me about yourself: the pain you still bear for James, the intimacy you’ve shown with other men including me, the confusion occurring in your hidden life, the lost boy inside you who is still struggling with his sexual identity… these are all so telling of a crumbling belief in your self. You are losing control of your life and your secrets are bearing heavily on you. These are strong words I sincerely hope are wrong. But that is the truth I see in you.

I do not condemn you. I cannot and I will never condemn you. But I cannot be party to deception.

I tell you now as a friend who loves you deeply, to please… and I beg you, to look deep inside you, to seek your own truth, no matter how painful for you to be able to discern what you seek in your life. You mentioned that while growing, you never had anyone to tell your deepest emotions. I am honored that you shared them with me. Now that the person who was supposed to be easing your loneliness cannot meet anymore the demands of your life, I bear the burden of knowing your inner thoughts. Discern well. Let your love guide you towards a decision that will not be based on whether you will please those around you. Be guided by the truth. A woman gives life. A man makes life. We, as men, shape this life. We shape our own lives. We also have the capacity to destroy this life.

When I came to know and accept the truth about myself, whatever it was, I embraced it. I allowed those who I love to share in it. I made my life richer. And I fervently hope that those who shared in mine that their lives have become richer as well. I pray the same thing for you. I pray that your life is based on truth and love.

Ramon… despite the pain knowing you have caused in me because of your confusion and disarray in your secret life, I bear this in dignity and grace. You know pretty well, from all the conversations we’ve had, how much I wish for you.

The truth, as been often said, hurts.

And painfully, like a knife slicing through my flesh, this is the truth I see and I must embrace it.

With this letter, from the deepest recesses of my heart, I am saying goodbye to you.

Peter

CALLING ALL PROFESSIONS

“Naku, napakalibog mo Peter! Lahat na lang yata ng propesyon ng lalaki eh may naka-sex ka na. Oh ano, tama ba?” sabi sa akin ni Donna habang binibisita ko siya sa apartment niya sa Salas sa Ermita. Si Donna ang isa sa mga tinatawag ko na “fag hag”, mga uri ng babae na mistulang pinaka-best friend ng mga gay men na tulad ko.

“Ano magagawa ko Donna eh maraming nahihilig sa mukhang pulis na tulad ko,” pagmamayabang ko.

“Gagah! Malibog ka lang kamo,” pangungutya niya. “Oh heto, quiz tayo. Mag-enumerate ako ng mga trabaho and tell me kung may naka-sex ka nang ganun.”

“Call,” sabi ko.

“Nurse,” unang sinabi.

“Anong klase?” sabi ko.

“Anong anong klase? Basta nurse. Kung may naka-dyug ka nang ganun.”

“Hmmm,” napag-isip ako. “Anong klase nga? Kasi-iba-ibang nurse eh. May na-bottom na ako na operating room nurse. Meron ding clinical nurse. At nursing aide. Actually, masaya yung nursing aide. Ginawa namin supply room ng St. Luke’s malapit sa nursery. Hehehe, muntik pa kaming mahuli nung kasama niya eh.”

“Hay naku… iba naman. Ah heto, Doktor!” isinunod niya.

“Aaah, mahirap yan. Marami-rami rin kasi. Halimbawa, si Charles – yung neurologist. Hilig niya yung ginagawa namin dun sa balkonahe ko dati. Nandyan si Bennie, yung cardio sa St. Luke’s. Si Randy, yung Ob-Gyne sa PGH na mortal na kaaway naman ni Bernard, yung urologist na Manila Doctors. Yung si bennie, kakaiba yun. May chismis na ginagawa din daw niya sa rottweiler niya.”

“EEEeeeewww!!! Kadiri naman,” sambit na may pandidira ni Donna. “Chakaaah!!”

“Alam mo, don’t waste you imagination. I’ve had sex with teachers – high school, college, pati kindergarten at special education teachers. Pati ilan sa mga professor ko sa noon sa UP. Lawyer, naku, lalo na. Alam mo, kung iisa-isahin ko lahat ng napaligaya ko, pwede akong magtayo ng either hospital, eskwelahan at law firm. Iba’t-ibang specialty sila.”

“Eh tindero ng baboy sa palengke?! Hayan ah…” hirit ni Donna.

“Kilala mo si Mang Jhun? Yung pinagkukunan ko ng baboy sa palengke na sabi mo eh bakit sobrang mura ko nakukuha sa kanya?” tanong ko sa kanya.

“Huwag mo sabihing…”, dugtong niya.

“Hahaha, siyempre, kasama sa fringe benefits ng “paglalaro” namin yan. Discount sa karne niya,” sabi ko.

“Pang-masa ka rin pala! Mula professionals hanggang jologs,” tuwang sambit ni Donna.

“Syempre… I believe in democracy. Democratic din ako pati sa sex partner. Hehehe…”

“Wala akong masabi,” banggit niya sabay talikod. “Lahat na yata ng propesyon may na-dyug ka na.”

“Yeah, maybe nga,” nag-agree ako.

Makalipas ng ilang minuto ng katahimikan, habang ako’y nagbabasa at si Donna ay naglilinis ng kanyang mga kuko sa paa, ay biglang napahiyaw siya.

“AYY! Alam ko na!! I'm sure wala ka pang naka-sex na ganito trabaho,” sigaw niya.

“Ano?” tanong ko.

“Basurero!!! Hahaha, am sure wala ka pang naka-sex na ganyan,” sabi niya nang may pagmamalaki.

“Ah, eh… sorry. Pero meron na. Disinuwebe anyos siya na sumasabay sa paghakot ng basura para sa Leonel garbage service,” pag-amin ko sa kanya.

“Eeeek, seryoso?!?!” sigaw ulit ni Donna.

“In fairness naman, noong bago magpasko yun. Nagbabahay-bahay siya para sa pamasko “from your friendly garbage collector”. It ended up na hindi lang pamasko ang naibigay ko sa kanya that night,” kwento k okay Donna.

“Ang libog mo talaga Peter! Walang pinapatawad. Hahahahaha….” Sigaw ni Donna.

SPEECHLESS

Mahal ko na si Madame Auring!!

The SEXth Floor - Series 1

They used to call the sixth floor of Cityland 9 as "the SEXth Floor" way back in the years 2000 to 2001. And it was right on the dot to have such a moniker.

I used to live there during those years, back when condominium residents would have this air of pride in saying "I live in a condo unit" when asked where they go home at night. There seems to be this sense of being in the upper crust if you get to say you're a condo-dweller as opposed to saying you rent a bed along some grungy neighborhood like Baranggay San Isidro. I just couldn't make myself say back then that "I live in condo" with that tone. Why should I? The unit I was renting then was no bigger than the walk-in closet of our maid in the old house I grew up in. My unit was literally a birdcage. The only satisfaction I did get from living in such a death trap was that mine faces the skyline of the business district of Makati. Were it not for the panoramic view I had, I would have hung myself from the doorway out of depression and claustrophobia.

Aside from that view, I had another extra. And that came in the form of the sixth floor being a SEXth Floor.

________


There was John. An American volunteer for the Peace Corps - 24 years of age, blonde, blue-eyed and speaks flawless Tagalog with a Batangueno accent. He lives in unit 6_6, a one-bedroom affair. He has quite a charming and disarming look about him that coupled with some few lines of Tagalog can easily melt any local's knees.

"Unit 6_6," said the tall guy in brown shorts and a cap pulled down low over his head at the security guard behind the lobby's desk as he gave the latter his i.d. and signed in the visitor's logbook.

"Ah dun kay Ser John," said the guard and gave the guy a mischievous smile. When the elevator sounded its familiar bell and the doors opened, the tall guy went in and disappeared into the lift to head straight for unit 6_6.

"Bilib din ako sa kapitbahay ninyo ser. Ikaapat na ngayon gabi yang umakyat sa kanya. Talo pa niya yung mga japayuki sa kabilang side ng floor nyo," the guard told me with his smile still plastered on his face.

"Anong ibig nyo sabihin Manong," I asked the guard while still holding the cigarette i was smoking by the window of the lobby.

"Naku, brod. Malilibog mga tao sa floor nyo. Alam lahat yan ng Roving dito. Tawag nga namin eh SEXth Floor. Pinakamatindi yung Kanong si John. Minsan nga eh nakabukas yung pinto niya. Nagroronda ako nun at kita ko na may kinakantot siya sa sahig. Laking titi po ser," by now Manong Guard was already saying these in a hushed tone.

"Ganun ba?" I replied

"Yung ka-relyebo ko nga ser eh natikman na yang si John," he added. "Hindi nga ser makalakad ng maayos at nag-absent. Pero, sabi niya, sarap daw kumantot nung Kano kahit ubod nang laki."

DADDY, DADDY, OH DADDY...

“According to the DOH undersecretary there are 49 new cases of HIV+ individuals. Alarmingly they are call center agents. The disease has now jumped from the straight population to the gay people. Beware.” So goes the text message I got from some guy whose name is in my mobile, but I’ve already forgotten how it got there. I don’t even recall if I had sex with him.

With the HIV-scare in mind I sent a text to Percy (a 22-year old I will meet in a few minutes for some hot humping in bed), “I don’t do bareback. I prefer it safe.”

A few seconds he replied, “Kul. Me 2. Pro pre wla ako Cndom. Buy ka.”

“K”, I replied.

________

“Anong flavor ser?” asked the small guy at the local 7-11

“Ah, eh… yung walang flavor?”, I said but more like asking if they have anything without any flavor. I never really took on the habit of blowing a dick with rubber. Aside from the lubricant that makes my lips feel like they’re gonna slide on each other, the taste of rubber is simply – rubbery - in whatever flavor.

“Ser, meron pa ho kami bukod sa Trust,” he was offering.

“Ano?” I turned my head while about to reach for my wallet.

“Eto ser. Frenzy,” and he held up a pack that looks like bubble gum instead of prophylactics.

“Cute,” I thought to myself. “I’m going to fuck a guy almost half my age and I’m going to wear chewing gum on my dong.”

“No thanks. I’ll take Trust.” And handed to him the money.

With a full packet of rubber in my pocket, I was ready to wage war.

__________

When he opened the door, he muttered a soft “Hi. Come in.”

As I stepped into the single bedroom unit in Cityland, he poked out his head into the hallway, making sure nobody saw me come in.

“Want anything?” he asked. “Water? Coke?”

“No. Only you,” I grabbed his thin waist and firm rear with my big, calloused hands and proceeded to give him a long, breathless, probing kiss like that of a soldier-lover who went to war and suddenly popped through the doorway after several years of absence.

I never let go of the young creature and he seemed to have let himself melt away in the embrace of my kiss and the firm caresses of my hands. Without parting our lips even once, we shucked off all our clothes and let it be strewn all over the floor. Standing there, both of us naked in the living room with the heat of both our bodies warming each other, I gently started to lay his soft, lithe and glistening body softly on the carpeted floor. I kissed his neck, caressed his chest, holding between my fingers the soft mounds of his nipples and hearing from his lips the groans of pleasure, I was about to lift his legs and bury my face in between them when he curled up and whispered in my ear, “Not here. There’s a bed inside.”

We stood up. Both of us naked and our bodies beginning to glisten in sweat, he held my hand and led me to the soft warm embrace of the bed.

_________

“How old are you again?”, I asked him in between breaths as I plopped into the soft sheets beside him.

“I will be 22 in October,” he said, as he wrapped his arm and leg around me. “You’re really big, and have a hard body. I like men like you. I feel safe and secure."

“I felt like a rapist. Or better yet – a child molester,” and turned my face towards him and gave him a gentle kiss.

“Hahaha, hindi naman. I like you. you’re sexy, mature – and funny.”

“And I like this most of all,” I whispered in his ear as I pressed hard on his buns. Firm, round and yet quite pliable. I thought I can bury myself in it and lose my sanity for days.

“Will we do this again?” he asked.

“If you like,” I said.

“Of course, you’re my Daddy,” and he stared at me with those big and round doe-like eyes.

________