three's a company

no, it's not about the 70's sitcom.

no. for someone who seemingly is jaded (to myself anyway) about sexual exploits, i haven't been very adventurous when it comes to group encounters.

so. i finally tried the much-hyped threesome, with one bisexual married man and his bi-curious straight friend, both in fantastic shape. and when i say fantastic, i mean my dream body type - bodybuilder muscular.

yes. it should have been orgasmic fantasy, coming out of a porn scene.

and. i learned 3 things from my threesome.

1. i have a misconception about dick sizes. it turns out that my impression of an average dick size is most peoples' large. so i guess i have been pretty lucky so far. (grin)

2. first time bi-curious men aren't the best partners in a threesome.

3. i sort of liked it.

gotta be somebody

anderson cooper

that hair, those eyes.

that nose, those lips.

that wit, that smile.

won't you be mine?

viva la vida

shall we dance?

my suki masseur-crush has finally taken the extra service route.

strangely, it sort of saddened me.

true, i did want him, but not that way. not paid anyway. haha!

if i did go for the extra service, would it mean that future massages would always have that tone?

would the quality of his massages suffer because he would then rush to the happy ending?

i do so enjoy his massages very much, although they haven't been necessarily totally wholesome and innocent. if i went that route, would everything change thereafter? (of course it would.)

"i'll do it only if we were both naked, and not in this place." i dared him with a grin.

he took it in stride. i did notice him take a pause while he continued to massage my chest, as if taking deep considerations about it.

"why not now?" he whispered, gently stroking the base of my semi-hard cock, his large fingers ocassionally grazed between my legs, tentatively (and unsuccessfully) trying to find the rabbit's hole that went into the wonderland.

i searched for an answer, and several ran through my mind. one, i can be really noisy when aroused, and easily aroused by my partner's noises. two, the place is not conducive to make such noises, even though i see the thrill of the whole situation. three, i want you, but not in a quickie hand job kind of way. i want to have you, to taste your lips, your body, your sweat. leisurely, wantonly, frantically.

finally, i smiled silently in reply. he smiled back in the dim light.

we finished the massage without the happy ending, just hopefully, a happy beginning.

dirty little secrets

i thought this would make a fabulous entry. everyone has at least one dirty little secret. sometimes they're big, sometimes they're irrelevant. but mostly, they're insights into our inner selves when we think no one is watching us.

the following are dirty little secrets - some of which are mine, and some of which are not!

- i secretly cut off a part of a girl's hair with a pair of school scissors while riding a jeepney because her hair kept flying in my face
- i like to pick my nose
- i sometimes like to pay for sex
- i terrorized three kittens as a child, and when one died from fright, i laughed really hard when rigor mortis set in
- i sometimes wish i had a vagina
- i peed in a perfume bottle that belonged to someone i did not like
- i faked orgasms just to get it over with, and i'm not a woman
- i spat in someone's tea just to get even with them
- i find it difficult to cum when having sex
- i cheated on a few questions during an entrance exam to a prestigious school, and it may have caused me to get accepted
- i kept my father's smelly underwear to sniff on
- i made up a story that i submitted as a true story, and it became famous in school because my religious education teacher read it to all classes
- i have performance anxiety in bed
- i pooped in my pants while walking in a mall

there you have it! compiled and written down. dirty little secrets.

what are yours?

goodbye, heartbreak

i've noticed something about me this year.
i've started to mellow. perhaps like some wine, i get better with age?

i hope so. but in a way, i hope not, too. lol!

been away for a while. i've had a crazy year, despite not working. and when i say crazy, i mean bad-crazy.

good things have happened, and even more shiteous things have come up. but, at least i'm starting to be on the mend. in my wildly deluded optimistic mind, i think i am.

i've also had interesting... near-encounters with men. i've had funny and provoking proposals thrown my way. one, an invitation to be a paid escort. another, to be in a threesome. and the usual can-we-have-sex with guys i'm not attracted to. and some girls. am i not that gay yet?

i've also noticed that i've been receiving more signs from the universe. it has enforced my belief that i am walking on the right trail, however hard it may be. it reminds me of the story from a much-loved book of mine, the alchemist. in it, a boy dreams of finding riches and treasures beyond his wildest imagination, and he is determined to make his dream come true. it eventually happens, but not the the usual storyline. during his search for his treasure, he encounters allies, foes, and insights he would not have known if he had stayed at home and forgot about his dream.

and i am that boy, seemingly lost, yet found. confused but determined, knowing and naive, open though vulnerable. and it is with this spirit of new-ness that i've decided to live as though i am a child again. to view each day with wondrous eyes. to remember that yesterday has given me joy and knowledge. to trust in myself. to forgive myself. to love myself.

perhaps one day i shall write about it. but i feel now is not the right time. it is enough that i acknowledge it. for now.

lucky

losing my grace

i'm still a bum.
sure, i could easily finagle a job entertaining irate callers at night. i just choose not to.
i applaud call center agents, even though some of them can be irritating.
or maybe i'm just jealous. hehe!

perhaps also that i feel a little more letdown, more than the past few months. you see, i've been dreading december. because this december meant something big: my best friend getting married.

it was a rite of passage that marked adulthood and an apocalyptic ending to happiness. well, to me anyway. i was happy for her, sad for us. it would never be the same. i hugged her, but i didn't cry. i let her go.

and i hated weddings ever since i was conscious to know what a wedding was. it always seemed so staged, so pretentious to me. and i was often one of those in the procession of the entourage. i nervously waited each time for someone to discover my guise and exclaim "faker!"

i often skipped weddings and wedding receptions of friends. i know, that sounds terribly rude. but it was just depressing to find that with every year, your friends become one of those couples who cannot function without their mate by their side.

you've seen those. wives possessively holding on to their man, shooting daggers with their eyes, and teeth bared in a strange grimacing expression of warning and supposed love to the audience. oh, sorry. i meant, to their friends. husbands, once hot guys, drinking beer, reminiscing bachelor days, their bellies as round as a pregnant woman's, leading one to wonder if it is possible for human men to be like male seahorses.

however we try to sugarcoat it, there will always be that line between the marrieds and the unmarrieds. couples end up flocking together, like noah's ark of twittering twosomes. i envy them. i want to twitter too, even though it might be for a few times.

inevitably, i end up being the unmarried person in our circle, subject to so-when-are-you-getting-married style of questions. perhaps they don't get it yet.

and i end up saying "i don't believe in marriages." to a table of married friends. whoops!

i love my married friends, i really do, but i think they've become cult members of the married market. they can't be as free as before, going out for a little bite and a few drinks later. no. they have their husbands and wives and children to think of now.

i brought my lesbian friend to the wedding reception. and for the night, we were supposedly straight to those who didn't know.

the wedding was beautiful, and the reception was even more so. even i, jaded and cynical of such gestures, found it really fabulous and touching and wonderful. so i guess there might be hope for me yet!

i hugged my best friend, her family and relatives, and finally shook the hand of her husband before my date and i left the reception.

in one day, with one rite, with one kiss, i had lost her to him.

so i did what any guy who lost a girl would do: swallowed and guzzled too many drinks at a bar with a lesbian friend, laughing and babbling incoherently as the night drew to a close.

er, well, maybe it's just me.

i think we're alone now

angel

When four of Santa's elves got sick, the trainee elves did not produce toys as fast as the regular ones, and Santa began to feel the Pre-Christmas pressure.

Then Mrs Claus told Santa her Mother was coming to visit, which stressed Santa even more.

When he went to harness the reindeer, he found that three of them were about to give birth and two others had jumped the fence and were out, Heaven knows where.

Then when he began to load the sleigh, one of the floorboards cracked, the toy bag fell to the ground and all the toys were scattered.

Frustrated, Santa went in the house for a cup of apple cider and a shot of rum. When he went to the cupboard, he discovered the elves had drank all the cider and hidden the liquor. In his frustration, he accidentally dropped the cider jug , and it broke into hundreds of little glass pieces all over the kitchen floor. He went to get the broom and found the mice had eaten all the straw off the end of the broom.

Just then the doorbell rang, and irritated Santa marched to the door, yanked it open, and there stood a little angel with a great big Christmas tree.

The angel said very cheerfully, "Merry Christmas, Santa. Isn't this a lovely day? I have a beautiful tree for you. Where would you like me to stick it?"

And so began the tradition of the little angel on top of the Christmas tree.

supermodel

one gorgeous sunny day, on my way to get some groceries, i nonchalantly worked the street like i was on a jil sander runway, with madonna on my mind.

quite a number of people stared at me.

some smiled at me.

a girl shouted in surprise.

pleased but nonplussed, i continued striding.

the shouting girl eventually caught up with me, panting with exertion.

i stopped as she tapped me on the shoulder.

i turned and asked her, "yes?"

"i just wanted to tell you, you've got a huge rip on your pants that runs from your butt to your thighs."

soon we'll be found

Sia Soon We'll Be Found - A funny movie is a click away

relax + say it right (mash up mix)

or here for the audio.