Interlude:Sweetest Thing

“Pwede ko bang hawakan ang malaki mong braso?” HB would always tease me every time we are walking, may it be towards home or work. Sometimes, he would say it when he is already holding my arms or while he is nudging my hands with his. I would look at him and when I see that there are people around us, I would smile and challenge him to do so. As anticipated, he would back off.

“Gusto mo kiss kita dito?” I would sometimes whisper to HB’s ear and I would see his face turning red as he scans the people inside the bus. He is probably calculating as how much guts I would have to do it. I have done it before without asking his permission and I could do it again. He would look at me again, anticipating. Yet, I am very unpredictable.

Inside our workstations, HB would suddenly grab my hand. Surprised at the gesture, I would shake his hand off me unaware of the fact that it is too early in the morning to have other co-workers see what he is doing. He would then laugh hard of my paranoia. “Takot kang makita ng ex mo ano?” He would joke. “Oo naman. Paano kung i-power trip ka na naman?” I would tease back.

“May pizza akong dala.” I or HB would excitedly say every time we would bring home goodies from work. It is kind of a practice whenever one of us is absent and there is a treat in our office. Our officemates also seem to expect that from us. Before, they would joke on our gesture but they seem to get over it when we give them a dose of their own medicine.

“Good morning HB. :)” We would greet each other over YM every morning even though we are seated back to back in our workstations.

Five simple gestures: the treatment of the first three is that of a joke, a romantic one I suppose, and the last two are generic acts of concern between good friends. Are they sweet gestures? Are they sweet in the sense that they show endearment to another person?

Society is always at the forefront in defining behavior of its members. “Sweet” is always associated between romantic relationships, that is, heterosexual relationship. “Sweet” is giving flowers, chocolates and other gifts. “Sweet” is holding hands while walking in the street. It is cuddling, hugging, kissing, and other physical gestures mostly for public display. The lack of it/them simply means that partners are not serious at each other. Respectively, it becomes a criterion for love.

Same-sex relationship, without any doubt, being bold to assert its equality among the heterosexuals, is trying to follow the society’s definition. If the heterosexuals can do it, then the homosexuals can also. The question however is, is there really a definition or even a rule to what “sweet” should be? Should society dictate what is and what is not in a personal relationship?

A relationship between two persons is not a cultural or a social dynamic. It is at the level of two individuals with unique characteristics. Each has their own manner of expressing their affection, endearment, or love. Being sweet or not depends primarily on how one of the partners views it and how the other one shows it.

Sweetness is an individual thing. You can be sweet by just saying the name of your love one. You can be sweet by just giving him a smile or a thank you. You can be sweet by cracking a joke and make him laugh. You can be sweet by just listening to him. You can be sweet by losing a game against him. There are a million ways to be sweet and it does not have to be grand. Each partner may not be aware of it but in due time, each will fully understand how each mind works.

Relationships always take years to mature. Why should one take haste about it?

Sex from the Top and Bottom

“Would you want to finish this?” It sounded more of a statement than a question. The guy bending in front of me extends his hand reaching for my cock and try to insert it in his anal orifice. I pushed him down to the table and continued banging him. I heard something knocked down beside us. “Shhhh. We might wake up some people inside.” The guy whispered.

I met this guy an hour ago when I was waiting for my ride back home. He was watching me from a short distance and I could tell that he was checking me out. It was around 11:30 in the evening and the street was nearly emptying. I should be on the other side of the highway but something in my mind told me that I am not ready to go home yet. I guess the guy sensed it and he finally gave me the signal.

“Where are we heading?” I asked the guy. “My place. We have a mini grocery store. No one is sleeping there.” “Where is your place?” I asked. “Just a walking distance.” He replied. I told him to lead the way.

The street leading to his place was dark and empty. I thought we were walking along a subdivision or a big compound because it was all walls in both sides. Even when we reached the residential area, the neighborhood was still empty and quiet. A couple more blocks and we reached his place. The mini grocery store was in front of the house. There was no light except from the lamppost.

The guy immediately unbuckled my belt and released my dick inside. It was still limp when he put it inside his mouth but it did not take long before it responded. He sucked my dick good and hard while he moved his hand around my body. I knew he was sizing my body up. He felt my waist, my abdominals, and chest. He stood up and lifted my shirt.

He looked at my body and again stroked it. “Tangina. Sarap mo.” He said. He suddenly hugged me tight feeling the heat of my body. He went back to his oral pleasuring and I could tell that any minute now I could blow my load.

“Fuck me.” He said. “I do not do ass fucking.” I replied. Heedless to what I have just said, he pushed his pants down and turned his back. He bent down and asked me again to fuck him. I am already nearing orgasm so I put my dick between his ass cheeks and slid it in a fucking motion. “Fuck me, please.” He pleaded. “Don’t push it.” I nearly growled.

I pulled him up and pushed him again to his knees. “I will fuck your mouth so open it wide.” He complied. The guy was catching his breath while I mouth fucked him. We were both moaning and in another minute, I blew my load inside his mouth. He squeezed the cum out of my cock and spread it on his face.

I zipped my pants and fixed my shirt. I asked him if he cummed. “Twice.” He said. “Good. I better go now.” I said.

“Shall we meet again? I like you to fuck me.” The guy asked. “No.” I replied.

I am not a great fan of anal sex. I usually go limp when a guy pushes his ass to my dick. It is a big turn off. For me fucking an ass is dirty. I might share some people’s opinion as to how could one put his dick inside a place where bowels go through. I guess it is just me being obsessive compulsive that I could not stomach the act. It is dirty in the physical sense and never in the moral or social sense.

However, I do not despise people who like either, whether giving or receiving. We have our own preferences. The only problem I have with the act is the association they give to the act. Claiming either is dominant or submissive is outright overrated, over-dramatic, and over romanticized. Sex is just sex, after its consummation, all physiological imbalance starts to level off.

Whether you are at the top or bottom does not spell who and what you are. Unlike gender that is social in nature, sex commences and stops on the bed. It is private and within the confines of the bedroom of two people wanting to spend the pent-up physiological need.

Sex role is not gender role. There is nothing political about it.

Dialogue: On Rejection

The world is unfair. It is not ideal. We need to recognize that. People could also be just as unfair, and so are the words coming out from their mouths. They could be harsh and demeaning, yet unknowing. Interestingly, why do some people resort to aggression?

Planet Romeo is the “newest” community for people like us. I created a new account with my recent photo from our Boracay holiday. In two days I went online, I received a thousand views already. Among the thousand, one character amused me.

The conversation started out right, hi and hello, then a request for a facepic. I replied to the negative and he quite accepted it nicely, but quite a surprise the following exchange occurred. It was not the verbatim transcription from the messaging, just the idea.

Jack: ok. are you good-looking?
Trip: no.
Jack: you’re ugly? i have never fucked an ugly guy before. I’d like to fuck an ugly guy. can I fuck you, you ugly guy? 
Trip: hahaha. Ur not worth it.
Jack: how do u know that, u little cunt?
Trip: hahaha. Is that how u handle rejection?

Nasty. Right? People could just respond hastily on a wrong impression. Jack was very straightforward with his question and I feel I should be straightforward too. I could use metaphor in my reply or categorically justify the “no”, but I thought I know what he meant and from what standards. A simple no I believe would cut the conversation short, and that is my intention for I know well where it would lead eventually. Unfortunately, he took my reply as insulting.

Rejection is ego shattering. It could hurt one to the bones. People with low self-esteem are prone to depression, even a suicide. People with matured mind would just brush it off, reply with full rationality and move on. On the other hand, people with overpowering hatred on their hearts could resort to aggression. Jack started to get aggressive when he felt I used the word “no” just to avoid him. He felt rejected.

Within the “community”, one could never judge who the more secure person is and who is not. A handsome face, an awesome abdominals, or a massive dick is not a guarantee that the one who owns it has security of himself or not. Character extends far from the physical feature of the person. One can call others names. Give him that liberty, but the truth of the matter is, the one who calls names are the ones needing attention thus the more insecure of the two.

A blogger friend once asked me. “Have you ever been rejected in your entire m2m life?” I rolled my eyes in the sky and began to think. I could not recall any. Why is this so? It is because rejection is all in the mind. My mind, my rationality always takes control over the emotional stresses that I experience. I might have felt rejected before, but fortunately, rejection for me is just a spice of life. I took it, digested it, processed it, expelled the unnecessary substance, retained the nutrients, and successfully moved on.

I am living now as healthy as I am.