In decent.

We met up for coffee. I was hot shower-fresh straight from the gym after a long day at work. He said he had just gotten off from work himself. But judging from his less than casual get-up, he probably lived nearby and had a quick change before making his way to meet me. He would be past his 40s. I'd say about 44. Probably of Spanish origin. We both didn't give out last names and based our racial impression on assumption. He seemed calm. But he conversed very politely. His reservation struck me as educated. But for his age, I must say that he is pretty well-built, not muscular-tone, but indubitably sexy.

He didn't want sex. There would be no touching. There would be no kissing. There would be no fondling. And that was just the strangest thing I've ever gotten from a meet-up. Wait, I am not saying that everyone I meet up with ends up in a sack and naked with me. Almost. This was different. His proposition was strange as it was very simple. He just wanted to watch me touch myself.

It took a while for me to ingest the request. But in the end, despite my doubts, I agreed to do it because of two things. First, I think the experience would make for a really interesting entry. Second, I think he was pretty hot that he'd end up breaking the conditions of his proposal. So without finishing our drinks, we make our way to his condo. He drove a black brand new SUV with no plate number. When we got to his condo I doubt that it was his home-home. Perhaps it was a half-way place where he can stay the night if work caught up with his schedule. It was pretty bare save for a bed with white sheets, a plain small table with two chairs and a trash bin by the sink near the washroom. No TV. Just an air conditioning unit which I asked him not to turn on as I enjoy getting all sweaty. The place had a balcony. And the view from the 29th floor was breathtaking.

He dimmed the lights, turned on the lamp and sat in front of the bed. I took off my shirt by the balcony, and an article of clothing until I reached the bed with only my white undies. He sat there. Still. Intently watching as I run my hands on my skin, over my head, pulling my hair. I ran my left hand across my face leaving the index finger flirting all around my lips before finally introducing it to my tongue. My right hand plunged into my crotch and woke up the little devil. Then undies off. There was an angry beating back against the bed's head. Legs spread apart. Then I turned around on my knees and left hand on the bed. My ass met his stare as my right hand continued the deed. Then I turn again. This time on my knees while my back rested in my left arm's strength. He had an erection. But he didn't even stroke himself. He just stayed there. Still. I would switch positions two more times until I lay down the bed and scream "Here I go!"

I caught my breath and see him fixing his erection in his shorts. I smiled. He smiled. When I got up, he told me to clean up in the showers. A towel was there and some small packets of liquid soap and shampoo. It felt like a silly little hotel. The shower was one of those nice expensive models that seem to massage your back when the water runs. I am definitely getting one of those when I get my own place. The towel he set was really soft too. As soon as I dried up, I rolled the towel around my waist and stepped out of the shower.

The lights were still dim and the lamp remained on. The breeze was cool. And the room was empty. I was alone. I thought that was one hell of a rude dude. So I picked up my clothes from the balcony and all over the floor and dressed up. I checked my phone for messages then I sat by the bed. There was one from him that read: "you can spend the night just lock up when you leave". I turned by the bedside lamp to turn it off when I saw a plain white envelop resting beside it.

Inside, cash.

There were probably twenty seven questions that ran through my head, but after facing each one, leaving some unanswered, bottom line was I didn't feel bad about what had transpired. It felt okay. Just a bit weird at the seams. Anyway, it was getting late and I had work the next day, so I left. With the money, of course.

The sauna was empty.

The late lunch hour brought in an eerie quiet into the lockers. All you could hear was the humming echo of the music from the studio outside. I had put on my shirt and pants, ran he blowdryer up and down my hair, and cleared my locker. I have 20 minutes to get to my next meeting. Just enough time I thought. By this time, the cab line would be conveniently long and since my destination wasn't so far away, the drivers would be amenable to take me, easy. Perfect. So I grabbed my bag and stood in front of the mirror for one last look. All set.

Then from the corner of the reflection entered a pair of big biceps held on by a steady torso with pumped pecs covered by a white tank above dark blue jogging pants. I moved my eyes over to gaze at his face and I saw him looking while walking. He crossed behind my reflection and vanished into the other side of the lockers. As soon as I heard his locker slam shut and locked, my clothes were off. My bag was back in the locker and I was on the phone typing out "will be a bit late, no cabs here". Sent. Slammed my locker locked. Smiled.

The sauna was empty.

Saw his silhouette by the door. His white towel was the only visible detail. I didn't bother hitting the showers. And as soon as I stepped in he greets me with his lips. And tongue. I pushed him into the inner corner and as we stepped back, our towels were off. The sauna was empty. The showers were empty. The locker room was ours.

No talking took place. As soon as I sat on the upper ledge, he swooped down on my tool like a falcon diving for its prey. He licked. He sucked. He bobbed. He knew how to control his lips well. And I bet he'd be a very good kisser. I pulled him up by the hair and saw for myself. My erection throbbed while our lips touched and our tongues tied. I pushed him down to the ledge and returned the favor. A few strokes from my mouth made him exhale a brusque moan loudly. But we didn't care. He pushed me up and furiously jacked himself virulently. I pulled him up and and turned him around. From behind, I placed my erection between the his tight sweaty cheeks. He moved faster, both hand and ass. And as soon as his sweetness came, I spilled mine all over behind him.

He sat down. Panting. I grabbed my towel and gave him a punch by the chest. We smile. I showered. Dressed up. Ran the blowdryer up and down through my hair. Now I was ready for my meeting.

After all, the sauna was empty.

It's in his kiss.

Visibility at the steam room was a bitch again. It was hard to see if the guy sucking your dick was fat or hot or not. If I were horny enough I wouldn't really care. But I was in my picky mood. So I carefully assessed the bodies sitting beside me. The hints I get from the outside light were actually enough to discern if they were acceptable candidates for a shower escapade. But sadly, the steam was getting thick as my patience was thinning. And the heat was starting to get to me. I needed a quick rinse.

As I stood, a guy rose from the opposite end of the steam room. He was around my height with a lanky frame. But the sweat on his skin showed he's got some meat in him. He stepped out. So did I. I saw him enter a shower stall while I closed the door. When I turned back at his direction, his towel was off and the door was open. He looked me in the eye. I wiped the sweat trickling down my lips.

I stepped in.

He put up this worried act that someone might have seen us. I grabbed his cock and pulled him close. "I don't care." I whispered in his ear. Then I unfurled his towel and hung it up the door.

I knelt down and greeted his tower. Perfect shape. Perfect size. Perfect girth. Fit just right deep into my throat. I looked at him. His eyes were closed as he turned his head up to the ceiling. A faint moan came out of his breath. He put his hands over my head and held my hair like wild wet mane as he thrusted deeper. Faster. Harder. My hands raced to his chest and glided with every drop the shower released. I rose and began to caress his nipples with my lips. My tongue made way above his chest, slowly up the neck and straight for the lips. He swung his head to the side leaving my lips landing on his left cheek. I pulled his head my way once more, but the softness of my lips won't budge his open.

And it hit me. It was too good to be true. But men like him, they don't go out into the wild single. He's just havin' a bit of fun, cheating on his guy - or partner as he later revealed to me.

Before you jump so quickly over to the judges' wagon, I know for a fact that the lockers is no place to find a boyfriend. But you cant kill the romantic in me that maybe somewhere in one of those blowjobs, handjobs, shower-fucks, some random guy might be the one. Maybe. And sometimes, that thought is enough to get me by.

So how exactly did I find out that he has this partner? Simple. We got each other's numbers.

And we're hanging out soon.

Upfront is the new incognito.

We met up at a nearby bookstore. As I entered, a random male employee gave me a knowing look. I ignored him and walked on inside. He, lets call him Shark, Shark was deep into one of the shelves. I didn't care if he was legitimately looking for a book. But I was late and the mere thought of how we were gonna go about our hook-up thrilled the lights out of me nervous. But I was horny.

As I turned to the narrow space between shelves where he stood, his gaze met my smile. "Hey." I said. "Shall we?" he asked. I nodded. As we headed out of the bookstore, same random male employee gave me a knowing look. This time with a smile. I looked away and threw a random smile. Let it be known that random male employee from nearby bookstore was kinda cute. But this was about me and Shark.

"Want anything?" Shark asked me as we stepped out. "No, I'm fine." I said. "You sure?" he insisted. "I'm nervous." I replied. He put his arm around my shoulder and said "Don't be."

We made our way out of the mall and into the backstreets of a third world highway. It dark, dingy, dangerous, and it was in broad daylight. And amidst the small talk and pollution, I was able to find a little corner in my head made of calm. As we approached our destination. And just as we were about to set foot inside, I was struck with an epiphany. Every self-respecting discreet/semi-discreet/all-out sexually active gay man's bucket list: to check-in a motel by walking in through the front door in broad daylight. No caps. No shades. Just a calm demeanor as incognito.

And that we did. We walked straight into the front desk. We had no other business but ours and the establishment made us feel that. Even the couple waiting by the corner had that. And so did the couple who had just stepped out as we walked in. Everyone minded their business. And boy was business booming.

We picked a room. Paid the premium. Got the key. Doorman clicked the electronic lock open. A small elevator was waiting for us. Up we went. It was only at the fourth floor. But we got so high just because I was top.

Then we came.

"So how was it?" Shark asked me on our way out. "Not bad." I said.

"We should do it again." he went as he lay bear on my chest, sticky and sweet.

I looked at myself from the mirror on the ceiling. "We will."

Then we let the noise from the porn playing on the TV take over.

Dear Readers,

I would like to apologize for the lack of entries the past few weeks. It's not that I haven't been getting any, in fact I've been getting quite a lot actually. But three things. The action was pretty straightforward, still exciting but a tad bit too common for one such as myself. Second, I got caught up with work. Yeah, I am a real person too who needs to earn a living to get to enjoy all that fucking. And lastly, I tried falling in love. I know, crazy right? But when some shit like tha presents itself, you kinda take it on with a lot of sincerity. And there's no other way to enjoy that than within the confines of privacy.

Didn't work out though.

Thanks for the collective "awwwwww". I'm fine. After my biggest heartbreak some five years ago, my heart can take on anything. Even cardiac arrest. Seriously.

Right now, I am in some café waiting for my friends for brunch because I need their shoulders to cry on. Kidding. We'll just catch up, I need to dump some emo trash before I get down to business. Dirty business. I have a few entries set for later and tomorrow and I do hope that'd more than make up for my negligence.

Maybe I'll fuck me some youngish tight bottom later. And share the experience with you. For now, lemme take my leave. My friends are here.

"Someone might walk in on us..."

The thing with locker room sex is that it's double-edged with fear and thrill, both of which make the sexual transaction excitingly pleasurable. What then happens when someone walks in on us? We hit the brakes. We play it safe. We check if the newcomer is game. Then we proceed. What about on the more metaphorical level? What happens if someone walks in on your life while you're caught up having fun in this playground?

When I started this blog, I didn't worry about running out of content. As arrogant as it may sound, I knew there was always gonna be someone, sometwo or somefive whom I will sleep sleep with. What I was more worried about was what will happen to this blog the moment some great guy walks into my life and starts a fairytale with me. I didn't want to dwell on it, so I parked it on the side. But the thought is still there.

No. There is no fairytale yet. But there is this guy. And I am not gonna tell you about it. Fat chance. This one's for private consumption. Going back, give me this post to ponder on the subject please. Thank you.

Should I even tell great guy about this blog's existence? Should I let him in on the premise that I sleep around a lot? Personally, I believe that there is and should always have a cap and ceiling when it comes to honesty. Too little breeds contempt. Too much of something, as the Spice Girls put it, is bad enough. Right now, I am leaning on keeping this bit of my life to myself. If anything, it's my sex that should do the talking.

Does this mean that I will go on sleeping with other guys? Too early to say. But to your surprise (trust me) I am a very monogamous bitch. I may not be a penchant for relationships, but when I am in one, there is no other guy I'd be sleeping with. Unless he's Shinji Ono. Or Steve Carrell. Or Axel Brooks. Or Marco Blaze... That bit of sleeping around has to be discussed. But would I want great guy sleeping with anyone else? Not really. I also happen to be a very (yes) jealousy-prone bloke. But hey, I think the trick here is just give and take, understanding, and a sense of being openminded. At the onset of whatever is gonna happen, the foundations have to be laid out and the details have to be clear.

But I am getting way ahead of myself.

Right now, lemme just say that I am still in my playground and there's this great guy who had just walked in on me.

This third world.

I am waiting for my schedule with my trainer. I am at the gym lounge enjoying complimentary coffee and Internet access. On the way here, I had to bribe a cab to take me in. Where I'm from, most cab drivers are hella picky. They drive around for convenience trying to scrounge up the most they can during their shift preferably driving around nearby distances, easily earning from the standard flag-down fee. It's pretty accepted in this society. Or, people have let it be but with much resentment. Comfort is something I am willing to pay a little extra for, especially after a long day at work. To soften the blow to my pocket, I consider it as aid to third-world economy victims. In my ride, I lock the doors, ask the music volume to be lowered, and I bring out my Internet device to catch up on my readings. Sometimes, I'd write. If I am rally pooped, it's a nice sleep till I arrive. Didn't get off at directly in front of the gym. I chose to walk a bit. It was a lovely stroll. The shopping complex around was about shutting down. There wasn't much of a crowd save for the taxi queues spread all-over.

While walking, it would be no surprise to see couples canoodling. Things like this thrive amidst the weary energies of commuters and observers. Then one corner later, I am welcomed by two twinks in school uniform. They were holding hands in a steady brisk walk. They had this tired blank expression on their faces. There was no care. All the care was in the lack of space between their fingers. They walk past me. As I crossed the street, from a nearby fast-food joint walks out two yuppy guys, each with a laptop bag. Both were in leather shoes. As they strode down the front steps, one guy's hand went around the other's waist. I walked past them. Passing by the parking lot, a red car had just shut its lights. Out walked the driver in gym gear. I hear a thud and from the back of the car, another guy in gym gear hold two bags in his hand. The driver locks his car and they meet by the side. Driver got his bag with one hand and held other guy's hand. I walked into the gym, straight to the lockers, undressed, and covered up with a towel.

No one cared.

Fresh from a blowjob. Fresh from climax. It sucks I know. But I just get by with every little bit I can find. This existence is a third world metaphor. A loop. A spiral. Orgasm after orgasm.

I am waiting for my trainer. Enjoying free coffee and WiFi.

Screw linear.

This time last week, I was in a hotel room in a city right next to where I live. I was with a visiting caucasian, let's call him Alejandro. By now we have gone beyond greetings and pleasantries. We'd have done them during coffee four hours earlier. We're actually both naked on his bed. Kissing. Fondling. Conversing. You read right. Conversing. I am such a sucker for great conversation. Specially one that can be quite intimate. It's utterly sexy. He's not just a sweet talker. He really was immersed in what we were talking about. He was immersed in my stories. He was immersed in me.

In about ten minutes, he'd start kissing my lips gently from the upper part slowly to the bottom. He would then stick his tongue out and glide it gently to my chin, down to my neck, down to the center of my chest where he would stop and veer to the right nipple and call it home as his right hand would reside on my other nipple. Without stopping he'd turn his eyes to look at my face. This is where our eyes would meet and we'd both smile. He made me turn face down and I could feel his entire weight pressed upon me. If his manhood were a measure of happiness, it would be New Year's meets fourth of July. All nine point five inches of it.

Alejandro was uncut. Earlier I told him how much a treat it is for me to be able to play with foreskin. Don't worry, this vixen knows his dicks. I only fondled him before we dipped in the tub. Once I cleaned him, that was when it met my lips, tongue, and teeth. Yes. Teeth. I have a very talented oral system. Going back to our foreplay, I kept on tugging the skin gently revealing the tip of his dick, and back in. Out and back in. Out and back in. And he looked at me and saw the curious cat happily playing with his food before going for the kill. I must admit though, my deep-throat skills couldn't take him all in. I concede to biological limitations. Besides, bulimia is not that sexy nowadays.

When we got in his room on the 23rd floor, I immediately asked to use the bathroom where I encountered the bathtub. I asked if we could include it in the line-up of activities we haven't set yet. He was more than willing to oblige. So we set it up, after all, it will take a while to fill. We then went back to bed, made out and talked some more. He'd spoon me as he would tell me his stories. And then he turned around as I told mine. I stared up the ceiling and my words we're interrupted with a gentle "Cuddle me, goddamnit." He was British so listening to him was really a joy.

During coffee, (mind you neither of us had coffee since that would've been my third cup in three hours, and he didn't feel like having caffeine - so we both ended up with mango shakes from a nearby coffee shop) we both aired our apprehensions upon meeting. Yes, we hooked up via Grindr. And he was one of the better experiences I've had with that app, as I was his. When I arrived to meet him minutes earlier, he stood by the entrance of the coffee shop in a black shirt and cargo shorts. When I called out his name, he turned to me in his glasses and I saw a very satisfied smile. Before we met, I wasn't in any mood but for conversation. He changed all that.

In the next two hours, we'd exchange favors and kisses until he drove the spirit in me out my in clear and white climax. It was getting late. "I wish you could stay the night." He kissed me. "I wish you could stay here every night." I kissed back.

While we cuddled, he showed me photos of his travels. I randomly asked him what kind of guys he likes. "He must have a great chest." He grabbed mine. "I bet your boyfriend is gorgeous." He smiled at me. And it was inevitable that he also shared their photos from his phone. Including his other two exes. They were all too gorgeous. And I felt a tad bit insecure. Yes. I tell you, this vixen is pretty vulnerable. But the night was a reassurance that I had nothing to be insecure about.

The next day, he flew back to HK and back to the UK. We're all friends on Facebook now. Including the boyfriend. And I cannot wait to meet them together.

Finishing last.

Frantic. Everyone's hand was jacking as fast as they could before climax. They had no time to spare since at any moment, rush hour was about to happen in the showers. The five of them has wasted enough time playing coy. On this occasion, I decided to sit it out and play lookout. Believe it or not, I wasn't in the mood at that time. The others, they were regulars. And I've fucked them before. In one way or another. Besides, I kinda needed the break.

The moment the six of us were in, it took a while for everyone to read everyone else. Not all of them I guess have shared intimacy publicly with each other. I felt obliged to start out. So I grabbed my penis from under the towel and watched their gazes shift towards me. I smiled. The ice was broken and the fun started. The group wasn't moving much. Everyone seemed comfy slouching in the wooden planks of the sauna. No one touched anyone else. At most, knees would touch, but no one leaned in to take control of whatever action could have happened. It was a group jack off.

It was just before work. You could spot the horny queers who do come in earlier than the rest so they can finish earlier than the rest so they can cruise with the rest earlier than the straights. They didn't have much time though, as one by one, other men started steeping into the shower stalls. They had to come. And one by one they did. One by one, stroke after stroke, mild grunt after mild grunt, they all came. Some by the navel. Some by the thighs. One by the chest. And none by the eyes. Thank goodness. That would have hurt. Seriously. It stings. Without much of a thank you, smile, or eye contact, one by one they stepped out. And all that was left was me.

It's not all about worked on, you know. Sometimes I get my kink watching people do it. Sometimes the circumstances under which they do it really turn me on. I am a creature of thrill. That's why I like the prospect of possibly getting caught. Nothing feels better for me than racing for the climax as a nervous chill runs down my spine while my skin is on fire. This time though, the sauna was empty. I was alone. And I was enjoying the space, the silence, and the remaining moments I had to myself, just before work. So I lubed up and began to touch myself. I took my time. My left leg rested level with my bum and my right leg stayed on the ground. I took my slow steady time. Even sliding a finger and two up and inside me. My back rested against the almost corner of the seat. My skin trickled with sweat from the contacts heat of the room. My breath became heavier. I could hear myself sighing. My left hand stayed inside while my right hand wore me out to climax.

Back from the showers, the lockers is this strange place where people don't know each other. And they don't have to. Because the sexiest part of the locker room scene happens with this bitch called discretion. It's strictly a penis to mouth to ass thing with a few kisses in between.

Oh, the lies people tell.

When someone in the steam room or sauna touches your skin, caresses your back, and fondles your penis to erection, do not believe them when they say, "I am not good at giving head."

Chances are they're just playing lazy. Operative word - lazy.

One such morning not so long ago, I began mild folly with this Asian old guy from the gym. He woukd be about 5'6 with tired eyes embraced by crow's feet. He had an air of Malaysian about him, or Vietnamese. It wasn't until a few encounters down the line when he finally spoke. He had an accent and it wasn't pretty. He could even be a local from some province which gave him the thick accent as he spoke. Our play was limited to fondling and jerking off together. After all, he refuses to give me head.

This was fine by me, after all, I don't impose. I just put it in the assumption that he just doesn't want to or he doesn't give mead at all. You know, tripper mentality. So we left it at that. Minor folly.

Some days ago, I saw him enter the sauna as I stepped out of the shower to head there myself. He sat at the seat at the edge of the hidden part of the room. No one from outside would see him or make out who he is at most. I got in and sat by the door. We were on the same side. He inched closer to me with a slide and I was surprised when his arms hugged me from behind and his head leaned in allowing his nose to list over my after-workout scent. He worked his way to my erection and began to let his fingers frolic along the skin of my thighs. His lips planted whispers of lust by my shoulders. I move aside a bit, he oulled his arms back and I leaned my back against the rest. He kept me hard. I slouched and nodded towards my penis.

"I don't know how to give head." he whimpered.

"Just put it in your mouth." I said.

He paused but left his hands slide up and down. Up and down. Up and down. He bent forward. His face a lick away from my horniness.

"I'm not good." he pressed on.

I shoved my penis towards his mouth and an automatic open was his response. From there I knew he was lying. He was actually gave me one of the best blowjobs I've had from the lockers. He wasn't a good liar, but he was very good at head. My cum swung underneath his chin as it dribbled from his lower lip.

"What time's work?" he asked.

"Nine."

We both had about half an hour left to clean up and travel.

Good blowjob. Good morning.

Beat it.

Every now and then, a little "me" time is all that we need. I have this rule that I don't entertain work related calls before 9am. I get back to my people when the work clock starts ticking simply because all the time before 9am is my time. The only exception is if it's a super work emergency, my boss calling, or my bigger boss (read: president) calling. From the moment I wake up till 8.59.59am, it's all my "me" time. But that's not the "me" time I wanted to discuss. I am talking about "me" time in terms of self-help and autoerotic. Masturbation. A lot of love runs through this body, and every now and then, good old lovin' from myself is a welcome effect.

Let me tell you a touching tale of this boy, an empty steam room, and some liquid soap. He had a very happy ending.

Here's another touching tale just last Monday. Despite being down with the flu, he was able to muster bouts of strength to masturbate six times. And each round was a success.

Seriously though, masturbation is over-ratedly underrated. It's the most fun sexual activity you can have where you control everything and there's completely no drama whatsoever. Well, unless you're a schizo and have issues with your other selves, then maybe a wee bit of drama will be there. But that's a very special case. Right? As I was saying, masturbation lets you explore your sexual wirings. You can learn so much about your drives given a few hours of touching. You can find your good spots, places where you wanna be handled next time someone else handles you. You can also find the rhythms you can thrive on. Call it practice runs for quickies or marathons. You know, so the next sexual sporting event you undertake won't catch you off-guard.

Masturbation is really getting to know yourself and learning about the parts of you that don't talk or that no one talks about. Be it a quick one or a joyride along some great porn download you're watching, it's really all about you and about the love you're willing to show yourself. There's no way you could get yourself hurt. Unless that's what you want.

So slap on some lube and show your tool some lovin'.

I just did.

Bedfellow.

Sex in the bedroom, particularly on the bed, is still something I hold with great regard. Being given the chance to share someone's bed for an all-nighter or even just an afternoon spooning is a great honor for me. There's a certain sense of trust that is expressed once you lie vulnerable on someone's sheets. It's a deadly kind of intimacy that's a line I don't mind crossing.

Bed sex is a treat because one, it's a great break from all the locker room action and for once, lying down becomes a comfortable option for a position. Two, it reminds me of the moments I miss when I was coupled up, namely experiencing a short run with intimacy as mentioned above. Three, it's a bed, hence a nap after the climax would be more than okay. Provided you have the time for it of course. Post-coital rest is always a welcome detail for me.

Couple invited me over for a repeat. From last week's episode, the doctor's lover asked me to spend the night with them on their bed moments after we reached orgasms. As I closed my eyes, a warm smile filled my chest and I caught my breath. By 3am, I decided to get up, wash up, dress up, and go. I didn't want to intrude or overstay my welcome. This time however, after meeting up for drinks, I felt a surge of weakness hit me inside the moment we reached their place. I popped some paracetamol and proceeded to make good use of the fever that began to heat up my skin. Our skin. We started pretty late and about an hour of ceaseless foreplay, we found ourselves breathing on top of each other. Heavy breaths. The lover was concerned with my rising temperature. "You should rest now and seriously spend the night here." Eyes closed and without a care in the world, I smiled and let four hours drift away.

I stayed by the edge of the bed since I didn't want to get in their way. Later on though I awake right in between their arms, legs, and kisses. My fever was gone. The sun was up. We finished what we started at the end of the night. On the bed. On their bed. On our bed.

The sheets have to be changed now.

Let's play a game!

The last man standing is a concept the sauna is no stranger to. Depending on how horny one is, how discreet one wishes to stay and how much heat one can really stand, it's actually a fun waiting game if you're lucky enough to win the climax. On one such occasion, I found myself facing off against a known player. Sure, fooled around with him once or twice. But this time, we were both after different game. Plus he isn't much of a looker. But we're friendly/honest like that. So what's a little competition among friends? Right.

So. Men, boys, trippers, paranoia-bearers came and went. Like literally went in, but didn't last past 15 minutes nor ejaculate (at least with us). My friend and I cycled cool downs every few minutes. We've had very good training. At some point, he'd stand and park himself by the hidden corner just outside the sauna shaking off the heat. I don't fancy doing that. Sorta blows my cover. What I do is linger in the shower stall, water in full blast, but I stand a safe distance from it, lest I be a prune. When I do this, I keep the door a little tease open. So I can keep tabs on the field.

Right at the moment when I peeked, I caught glimpse of a beautifully chiseled back. Gorgeous. And he went straight for the sauna. And I wasn't there. Fuck. So I calmly shut the shower and fluffed my ass up with the towel. Let's just say that my friend is also a high level game player. I got a bit worried. But despite arriving to them fondling hard-ons, I know it was still all fair game.

I sat right across them. Watching them as they stroked. Friend's eyes were convincing Mr. Back to look at him. All he gave him was a hand in beating motion. And all he gave me was a gaze as I began to fondle a tower rising underneath my towel. Friend noticed. He looked at me and looked down at my feet which was now entangled with Mr. Back's. Then he looked at me and smiled.

Mr. Back leaned forward towards me. Friend put Mr. Back's hand aside, stood up and locked his towel around his waist. He gave me a nod and he stepped out of the sauna. I smile back and as soon as he was out, I took his seat, right beside Mr. Back. He grabbed my left hand and held my fingers against his face. Slowly he began to suck almost each one. Then he stroked me. I stroked him. I leaned over a kiss away form his cheek. I looked my way. And all we had between us were breaths. Door opens. Friend walks in and join the rhythm of our hands. One by one, we came. And one by one we step out. Once you know your restrictions, parameters, limits, you have no idea how much fun you can have with semi strangers in the lockers. In the end, all three of us, Mr. Back, friend, and myself were winners.

Back at my locker, it was a pleasant bit to learn the Mr. Back's locker was right beside mine. He was just about to start working out and I was just about to start my workday. Without uttering words, we exchanged smiles as we readied with impeccable pacing. By the time we were ready, he offered to shake my hand. I gave it to him and he gave me a firm shake. Then he pulled it just under his chest and he bent over to kiss it. Then off he went.

Friend saw what had happened from his corner. Gave me a smile. I grabbed my bag, walked by him and gave him a low five. Because we're cool like that.

One night. Two rounds. Threesome.

Do you really wanna know the details?

Someone called the doctor?

Whenever I meet a cute/hot gay doctor, I always get the urge to say "I need a physical." or "Mind conducting a digital rectal examination for me?" or even "Would you like to feel my coughing?" There are a lot more of those, but I restrain myself in doing so. Because even if the flirt at the back of my head thinks it'd work, I wouldn't run the risk of possibly embarrassing myself to a potential life mate. Yes. I do feel a particular need to be romantically involved with a doctor for the long run. Well, primarily because of the medical perks. Living in a third world country, medical perks are a big go-go. Top of my list are dermatologists and cosmetic surgeons. Till they find me the fountain of youth, I'd let them work on me anytime.

And every once in a few wily messages, I'd get to flirt with a doctor who knows how to flirt back with someone like me. Today, I met one such doctor. On Grindr, no less. Goodness, I remember the days when the only people on it were from HK and SG. Despite the reality that there are a lot of ugly iPhone users, I think Grindr deserves to win some app award. Okay, going back to Mr. Doctor...

We began messaging last night. He sent me an innocent "hi". I decided not to be cocky (because I usually am, and if you know me, you'd know I have every right to be very cocky) and just asked for some photos. Cute. My type actually. He asked for more of mine. I only had one from two years ago. "a bit chunky" I said. "Chunky is fine. :-)" he replied. So I sent him the photo. He made me smile when he said "cute. :-)"

We had a bit of conversation after which eventually led him to asking me if I was up for no-strings-attached fun. "Hot guy like you? No strings? Why?" I had to ask. "I don't like the drama relationships bring." At that point I knew he was my kind of guy. The conversation went on until I saw him go offline. For the record, he did utter "I find you very interesting" before he went logged off. It led me to think that this was one doctor who knew how to play the game really well. So I slept through it. The next day should know how to deal with him.

"Good morning." waited for me in my Grindr chat with him. I was wrong. Could it be that this guy is genuinely interested in lil ol' me? The day proceeded with us Grindr chatting. Grindring. I was already in the office when he sent me a location notification. He was headed near where I worked. Lunch with colleagues. How convenient. "Wanna have coffee after?" Then he gives me his digits. And it was set.

Honestly, I was excited as hell.

Lunch happened for us both, so let's fast forward to the coffee. I was there before him so I got my regular caffein concoction and a seat with a good view of the coming and going strangers. He sends me a text saying that he was now walking towards the coffee shop. And before I knew it, I see a familiar smile. His photos were real. He stood by me, gave me a firm handshake and sat down across me. I had such a good view. And I could tell from the way he looked at me that he was really liking what he's seeing.

But before I give you the wrong impression that I am the least bit romantic (I will deny it anyway), let me get the fairy dust off the details we talked about. He admits to seeing my Facebook profile from a friend of his whom I was also Grindring with (no, I am not that notorious, yet). Turns out, friend is actually his lover and they've been together for years. Turns out the who of them make a swinging couple. Turns out they wanna get it on with me. Turns out I wanna get it on with them. But turns out, we kinda wanna get it on together first before his boyfriend gets in on the fun.

He was wilder than I had expected. We have a lot in common actually. But I won't get into that. The sex will be happening but I looked at the time and saw myself over an hour past the end of my lunch break. And I had to get back to work. He also had somewhere to go to. So I asked him where he was parked and offered to bring him there. "Let me drop you off." He read my mind.

Upon arriving at his car, as soon as the doors were closed, our lips were all over each other. He kissed so well and despite his slightly drying pucker-uppers, he made me feel like I was his for the next few minutes. All his. And no one could take that moment away from us.

Legs, lust, and lingering (continued).

They say lightning never strikes the same place twice. Despite his fast one on me a week earlier, he was no lightning. Gym people are usually creatures of habit, mostly operating on a fixed scheduled which is important in maintaining their vanity. Sanity too in a way. So the plan was to hit the gym around the time the stepper incident happened. That would probably be when he works out, and since I see him at the gym on usual (yet to be identified) intervals, I would probably be right.

I decided to come in a little earlier. After lunch. Parked my bag in the lockers by 1pm and went around the malls for a bit. Prior to this, my body was aching from all my training so I decided on doing some Yoga for the day. Went back to the gym and looked at the schedule mounted on the wall. There was a 2pm slot. Perfect. As I turend back to the lounge, I was welcomed with "There you are!" and a big smile. There he was. "I didn't know when I'd see you again, so I thought I'd just come by around the same time." he continued.

"You know, that could have been avoided had you gotten my number." I said.

And he did. We had a bit of conversation. Then Yoga happened. For this episode no sex took place. Instead, to appease for his shortcoming, he offered to treat me to coffee.

Sweet.

This is where it all falls down. First thing, we work in different timezones. Second, he was too pleasant for me. Third, he is a very good friend fo another friend of mine. Too close. Fourth, I can't see it go beyond this point. Fifth, maybe it's just me. But that's all there is to this.

He did ask me to dinner one of these nights. I didn't reply. On one hand, I wouldn't mind the company. On another hand, I wanna spare him from myself. On my third hand (wherever it is, I won't say), I wanna spare myself from any possible drama that I suppose could happen with him. I am not saying that he's a drama queen. I have yet to determine that. But I do have this nagging suspicion that he has some kind of baggage hidden beneath the dimples and clean innocent smile.

Perhaps if we meet up again in the sauna or the steam room, I wouldn't mind giving it a go. But that would be just that. Benefits from a new friend. I am after all, pretty friendly.

Emphasis on pretty.

Break.

There must be something in the water. Could it be the rain? I seem to find myself a little more virile than usual. Been reaching three climaxes a day. One after the other. I am not complaining.

Legs, lust, and lingering.

Alone. I've been known in most of my circles as the perpetual single gay man. Year-in, year-out, my friends encounter seasons or cycles of dating and coupling. And in those cycles and out of them, I find myself, independent to say the least. Nothing wrong with that. I am after all, pretty comfortable with my status - gorgeous, sexy, and always available. Sometimes easy. Most of the time, desired. Lovely isn't it? And no, I am not being cocky. I am being honest.

Come on, you should know that by now.

Before you start to think I am on complain mode, let me just tell you a short story about a boy (me), a gym crush (guy), a blowjob (his mouth on me) and a pick-up line that caught me off-guard and well, a bit bothered.

It was a Sunday afternoon. And by routine, you'd know that I just worked out. By routine, you'd also know I would have made my way to the wet floor area of the lockers. By routine you'd know that I would have probably longed to spend the last ounces of my energy releasing my load on some willing head-giver. Pretty predictable. There was hardly anyone in the gym. THe premise is set.

Gym crush was some guy I've been seeing around in the gym over the past year. We've never had a moment together. We never had eye-contact. And we've never connected even spiritually. I just thought he was this cute snobbish tallish Filipino-Chinese guy. Not my type at all, but I just find myself oddly attracted to him. I guess it's the mild-mannered face. He has this very pleasant smile, the kind Buddha would be proud of. Probably won't even kill a mosquito that would kill him. And when he smiles when he talks to his friends, it makes me smile. Really pleasant. But we don't have a connection.

I found myself stuck with him in the steam room. I never had any impression of his sexual preference. I just thought of him as a straight fancy. I didn't mind, after all I get a certain sense of high when I see him. To a certain extent, that was enough. As I entered, he welcomed me with a clear stare as he stood a towel away from bare by the door. No word. He didn't even swing his gaze or his head when I took my seat. Silence. A few moments later, he steps out. Another guy walks in. A few moments later, I step out. I cool off in the showers then gave the sauna a try.

There he was. All alone.

I sat on the side far form the door. Not a movement from him. Up until the point I opened my legs revealing a hard-on that tried to play coy. He turned his head once. Twice. Three times. Then he whispered a loud "Fuck…" He sighs and moves closer to where I was. Beside me. He leaned forward and gave my little soldier a stare. Then he points at it and says "This belongs in here." pointing to his mouth. To which I replied, "Go for it."

As he worked on my stuffy, his right arm hugs my left leg. He pulls out. "You have powerful legs." And he proceeded with the work. As I was about to come, the door opens. He hurriedly rested his back to the seat. I quickly hid my manhood under my towel. Guy who entered was a buddy. He looked at us and went, "Go ahead." I smiled at him, turned at gym crush and opened my legs. He went down on it and buddy began to jack off by the side of the door.

"I'm coming." He didn't pull out. He went faster. Faster. Faster. He didn't stop. And when I released, I had to tell him to ease up. He didn't swallow. He played with the cum and licked my legs down. "I have to go." I said. He taps my leg. I stand and take my leave.

I didn't see him until a week later. I just started my workout. A warm-up. The stepper. I caught sight of him at the other end of the room. On the treadmill. He was all wet. Cooling down. I proceeded with my workout. A few minutes later, I look over to his direction and he was gone. "Oh well" I thought. Then I get a tap on my right shoulder. He leans in and takes his game to a very different level.

"Your legs are driving me crazy."

My eyes grew wide. I didn't know what to say. I even forgot to smile. He gives me a smile and he went on his way. He left me with my panting and a glance that followed him down the stairs. I proceeded with my workout and minutes later, he was waving at me from the parking lot, as I used the machine by the big glass window view. During the week that followed, I found myself in pockets of wondering about this gym crush. I have no leads. I had no idea who he was. I've never seen him with any common friends. My trainer even thinks he's someone else. No clue. Nothing whatsoever. How dare he.

(To be continued.)

White noise.

As far as he was concerned, being white was all he had to do. He walked the wet floor area as if it was his own. The whole time his chin at the very least, always parallel to the floor. I caught a glimpse of him working on some weights earlier. His face has this blank quality. It was hard to discern if he was just busy, if he was concentrating or if he was stress training (possibly from working too hard in a foreign land). As far as I was concerned, he didn't utter a word of English. His lips stayed together except for the time he had to push a breath out to get a bar up. And after all that work, he must have felt entitled to own the wet floor area.

Present too were the early vultures, always eager to prey on fresh morning wood. Some of them, I've let perch on mine. Some of them I've come to know. Some of them, I've cum on. When you do this whole locker room route, you learn to be civil, practical, and patient. There area few morals to be learned from these acts of immorality (as some religions would say). The regulars circled the barren washroom. Pretty light for a Monday I should say. Usually Mondays are the most packed of days, lightening up past Wednesday. But today, everyone seemed, absent. So the white man walked around the sauna as if it was his own. As if he was all alone. I watched him from the fogged glass door of the steam room. I was all alone. Then he enters.

Blank face. Not a word of English. Not a word at all. I stepped out for a drink. I walk back in, he had moved to the immediate seat by the door. My groin right in front of his blue eyes. He had blue eyes. The kind of blue that was ghostly, pale and a bit ethereal. If he stared at you long enough, it's quite haunting. In a nice way actually. Come to think of it, it has the capacity to be scary too. Like serial killer scary. But there he was, eyes straight at my groin. Then without moving a muscle, they gaze up meeting mine.

My throbbing was quite evident from the thinning towel that hugged my waist down. He looks back at my groin. He reaches out for it with his gaze. Then with his left hand. I lean closer. Tip of my cock was kissing distance. He paused for a bit as he stroked it under the towel. He takes a quick glance by the door then lunges his head forward attempting to swallow me.

He wasn't that good. But with the circumstances present, he will have to do. Then he stopped, pulled his mouth off my hard-on, and proceeded to stroke his cock. He stood up and got on the first ledge right beside me. Leaning in, his eyes grew wide when I uttered the words, "I don't suck."

Of course I do, but I wasn't feeling it. Anyway...

His face went gaunt and he fixed his towel, wrapped it around his waist in a more secure way and he got down from the ledge, sitting four asses away from me. Five breaths later, he picked up and left.

Let's put things in perspective. He was white, yes. But he was a white, post-middle age man. He was a white post-middle age who gained a lot of weight. His eyes maybe of a magical haunting blue, but his face was one you'd see resembling retired plumbers taking vacations in Hong Kong. Some retired plumbers are even hotter. Yeah... He didn't speak a word. And he was being kinda cocky, but for a white guy, I out-dicked him in length and in girth. Did I complain? Nope. He had to do. I just merely wrote down details to put things in a bit of perspective. Him stepping out wasn't a loss. Not one bit.

I jacked my Monday morning off, stepped out of my steam room and into my showers. Then I walked around my wet floor area, straight to my locker. Dressed up, then out to my Monday. All mine.

And I know it's still gonna be a great week.

Fuck it.

Okay. I said I'd delay my next penile fulfillment. I lied.

I write this by the nearest coffee shop outside the gym. The time it happened, I had just finished a quick workout. The boy, let's call him Jason, was just about to start. I was bare in my towel and (please forgive me for some minor typos - this girl in front of me is animatedly talking to her phone's hands-free device, it's pretty funny) freshly laden with beads of sweat from that bit of exercises I did. Jason just got in. I think he works nights, since it was too early to go to the gym all dressed up in work clothes. But hey, if that is his way of being efficient with bringing clothes and lugging a lighter bag, I will give him that. Our eyes met. And it was on.

Jason and myself are no strangers to hanky-panky. We took on each other a few weeks back when a locker buddy of mine were going at it. Jason walks in on us at the steam room while we were in a safe distance from each other. He felt a weird silence so he stepped out and used the sauna instead. Locker buddy gave me the look and asked "You like him?" I go, "Do you?". He smiled at me. We followed him to the sauna and sat right in front of him. Then we started to make-out. We heard a faint whisper to the tune of "Oh fuck..."

We had him.

After that, Jason has been pretty much a regular locker-sucker. I've always wondered if he was a bottom. He had a nice penis that's slightly curved upwards to the left. He isn't that tall, so in proportion to his height and build, his penis looked powerful. With that kind of proportion, I'd give him the benefit of the doubt that he may be a top. Vers at most. But I did wonder if he'd bottom. More importantly, I wonder if he'd bottom for me. While he gagged on my erection, I leaned over, pulled him up, turned him around and kissed him from behind.

"I wanna fuck you..." I whispered to his ear.

And that's how I found out that Jason would bottom for me.

Make that a double.

My penis' happiness and well-being was at stake. I was guilt-ridden. My constant meetings, intense workouts and overall busy schedule have been in the way of giving it that much needed lovin' it deserved.

I wanted a blowjob.

But let's be clear about one thing, my schedule's pretty much on the strict side. I've kinda made it as an impenetrable line of defense against self-loathing. You know how it is with idle hands. Mine don't become the devil's playground. They grab food all over and make me gain weight. Clearly a worse hell for any gay man, this possibility of gaining weight. What I want to say is, with my busy schedule, even my fun times are plotted and penciled in. I've even allotted open hours for impromptu details. But these are few and pretty far in between. Going back.

There was only one place where I can get a blowjob without ruining my schedule.

So earlier, after an earnest workout, I walk into two men bouncing back to the backrest of their seats. There was this candid and awkward air. And their erection was evident. I sat by the far end away from the door. Guy with facial hair stands up, fixes his towel and heads out. I loosen my towel, open my legs and saw spiky haired guy giving my lower greatness a look-see. Then eye contact. I gave him a nod. He reached out, unwrapped my towel and suckled on my lollipop. He wasn't so good. But he will do.

My eyes were locked by the warning view by the door. Don't you just love risky business? And just as spiky attempted a deep throat, door opens, we bounce clear of any action. It was guy with facial hair. He closed the door, smiled and said "Go ahead..." I spread my legs and spiky was at it.

Facial haired guy stood erect by the door. He had to adjust his towel three times. And he finally gave in and sat two asses away from me. As spiky head was locked-in on my groin, I gave facial haired guy lustful stares. He moved in quickly. And after giving a clear glance by the door, he began to lick my nipples. Right. Left. Right again. Spiky pulled up and gave him a smile. Before I know it, facial haired guy was going down on me.

Spiky didn't like it. He was pushing facial haired guy's head away. He wanted to get back. But to be honest, facial haired guy was really good at it. So spiky had to settle for the supporting role, in which he really shined. He was great in working on the nips.

"Here I go..." I said.

Both men dove to my throbbing eruption catching its spews on their cheeks, chin, and lips. They stood up and proceeded to climax. I let them land on my legs. I enjoyed the trickling of their warm cum down my skin. At the back of my head, I can hear my next appointment reminder. I smiled, stood up, fixed my towel and made my way to the showers. That was a treat. Best of all, I was right on schedule.

I might have to move my next ejaculation at least seven hours later.

Talk to the hand. Or dick.

There is a certain mindset for sauna/steam room encounters. Basically, it's a finite transaction of exchange favors. Minimal conversation. None is ideal. It's all played by looks, stares, and body language. You target. You interact. You deal. You cum. You go. It's pretty mechanical, but enough to satisfy very casual urges. On the rare occasion that conversation takes place, it's when the participants have crossed the border of anonymity over to familiarity. That space between stranger and acquaintance.

I don't have anything against conversation during these encounters. In fact, on the rare times it can happen, it becomes a treat for me, especially if the guy knows how to converse. I've made a few locker room acquaintances this way. Besides, a good conversationalist who also happens to be hot is never a bad thing. Turns me on really. But none of the parameters I presented above prepared me for what happened to me Thursday night at the gym.

Let's cut to the chase. The scenario, I was alone in the steam room when this hottie steps in. After a few body signals, he sits beside me. We inch closer and closer to each other. My lips was one word away from his shoulders. He turns his head to meet my stare. I give him a smile. He smiles back says, "Are you single? I'm looking for a relationship. I don't like playing hanky-panky. You might be here just for flirting. Are you a relationship kind of guy?"

I'm pretty sure he said a few more sentences, but I tuned out. Now that was shock and awe.

Hot, yes. Cute, yes. Strange, very. He wore black hipster undies topped by a red garter strap. His bulge was unmistakably ready. He was in the sauna. Alone with me. At this point several thoughts flooded my mind. Why ruin a good moment for locker room play? Why look for a relationship in a steam room? Why are you hot but not at the same time? What the fuck? Why me? I tried to fathom them. But in the end, my horny switch was turned off. I showered and sought solace and redemption from porn two hours later.

I love my right hand.

Let's work it out.

While growing-up, on the onset of fever, my mom and my dad would recommend me to sweat it out. I'd wrap layer myself in two shirts, a sweat shirt, jogging pants and socks and wrap myself in a blanket. At first it would all seem and feel comfortable. After all, fever tends to chill me up. Within a hour's time, I'd start to feel the sweat mildly drench my apparel and the discomfort kicks in. In te next succeeding moments, I take off an article of clothing at a time. And no, just to be clear it isn't a strip tease. By the time I reach the last shirt and shorts, my mom would have a cool face towel ready for me to mildly scrub my skin with. Then I change to fresh clothes. Then I sleep it off. It's a few Zs away from relief from thereon.

But that was when I was a kid. Today, on the onset of surviving a fever, provided I have enough energy to drive, I hit the gym, strip down to a towel and let the sauna sweat me off. I found that this particular act, gives me the same results. And then some. With a fever, you'd think my libido would be down, right? Think again.

The very abrupt weather change has triggered some sort of allergic reaction in me. The other day I was in a sneezing spree. Later on I was feverish. I stayed home and rested it out. Yesterday, I found myself in one such condition, tired, but ready to sweat and catch up on a little bit of iron pumping. So as I readied for my workout, I trooped over to the sauna for a little sweat off. Hardly anyone in. In fact, no one else was in but me. The only other person present was rinsing in the showers. After which he was on his way to change. I knew because I could see him from my seat, which had a view of the wet floor area. Then, in walks a familiar face. A familiar gym fellow. A familiar smile. Followed by a familiar blowjob. There was a familiar thank you. And I proceeded with my familiar workout.

Of course I subscribe to the notion of beginning a workout with a good warm-up and ending it with a nice cool-down. So as I hit the showers, before rinsing, I was again in an empty sauna (pretty slow day at the gym I believe) which was just perfect for a nice jack-off. I was sweating out much from my arms and I could see the drops trickle down my chest and abdomen. I was enjoying my time. I was taking my time. I was having a great time. And time came for it to be aided. Another familiar face. Another familiar smile. Another familiar head. Another familiar climax that was worth another familiar thanks.

Who had fever again? I don't think it was me. Either that or I must have ejaculated all the heat out.

Papa doesn't preach.

His pace was very relaxed. Very calm despite the Sunday family traffic in the mall. He held his eight-year old boy who glanced at the circus of lights and sounds from the games at the arcade. Three paces behind him, his wife carried their three-year old daughter along with two small boutique bags. He turns his head to my direction and raises his brows short of a smile for acknowledgement. I smile back. Her eyes looked straight ahead blankly with no clue on how great her husband gives head in the sauna.

I first met him in a gym near where I work back in 2004. Back then we were both newbies, first timers in that specific gym. He was thin, with a frail face and a receding hairline. He was no where near what kind of guy I would consider attractive. But then, I never saw him wear any ring (yes, I pay attention to these things). At the same time, his meek demeanor never struck me as gay. Flirty was on Venus and he was in Neptune. Initial character judgement, extremely boring. I paid him not much attention in the next few months after that until one such time I sort of fell into a quick nap in the steam room. I was alone and the next thing I knew, his head was bobbing on my stiffness. I like waking up to blowjobs. One of the things I miss dearly. At that point, I didn't mind the limitation he had with his physical attractiveness. I considered it as an act of charity.

He knew what he was doing. He knew very well. And as much as I wanted it to last longer, I was gonna be late for work. Besides, the guards also patrol the wet floor area every so often. "Here I go..." I whispered. Out I slid from his mouth, leaving streaks of white on his nose, cheeks and a thin trail by his sealed lips. He wiped his face with his hand. Tapped my my right leg and stepped out. Of all the things I normally feel after a good head, being used was last on my list. It was a surprise. A pleasant surprise, but a surprise no less. For me. To have been used just like that.

In the subsequent months that followed, I would see him bounce over a few stiffies in the sauna. Fun times. Eventually it became clear. He really loves just giving head. As a matter of fact, I have never seen him out of his undies when we'd be in the steam room or sauna at the same time. I moved gyms a couple of times and have lost him in my small world of sexual socials.

Some three weeks ago, I found myself alone in the steam room of my other gym in this other mall. It was lunchtime on a Sunday. Hardly anyone works out then. The door opens and this plump figure of balding guy materialized amidst the thick steam that was slowly escaping out the opening. He walked calmly towards the semblance of my figure. He stood in front of me, bent down, and squinted as he gave me a good look. Coyly. I leaned in. Gave him a familiar smile. He reached out and held my penis at attention. And off we went.

He still has it.

Seeing him today, in the mall; seeing him with a ring, with his wife and children, something about it just made me want to run to the nearest washroom, lock in a cubicle, and touch myself. For the record, he isn't the first married man whom I've had sexual interactions with. They come in droves actually. Secret droves. Secret careful droves of horny restrained testosterone. Sorry. Going back... I wonder if he teaches his kids how to eat a lollipop.

The next time I see him, I'm gonna call him daddy.

V is for...

Sometimes, we all need that someone who will nudge us, push us, and move us to go to places where everything won't hurt until you wake up the next day in someone else's room, in your undies, telling yourself that you shouldn't have gone out, while you try to remember what exactly happened the night before. And everything will be alright.

As the days pass, what little push I can get from Doormat seem to dwindle down to smaller more minuscule servings. And though he often reemphasizes that he is single, the smile that appears when he says that word grows shorter. Maybe this is it - the moment when the Doormat is finally brought in after patiently waiting it out under all the seasons, weather, and dirty steps, to be laundered, cleaned, and ever so lovingly placed deep inside the warmer walls of someone's fancy. The moment where the doormat stops being a doormat and becomes the centerpiece of the living room, full-sized rug, expensive, and rare, a centerpiece of someone's attention and comfort.

The relationship Doormat has with the guy he's been seeing for sometime now will take a turn for the yes. For crying out loud, they're even moving in together soon. And before we know it, they're official. And unless they'll open the guestroom for a hot threesome (I hear that bottom is the type who seems open to such frivolous fanfare), my house will stand cold, under the humid climate, nearly empty, save for the internet connection and the memories I think of when I touch myself.

Do not be fooled by then seemingly bickering that the prior sentences seem to put on, I am in no way lonely, decrepit, and jealous. Well, maybe a little.

What saddens me really is not the loss of a come-on lust pal (surprised?), but the loss of having a sounding-board (attraction short of being a boyfriend) ready to hear me out, ready to listen to my whimpering, and admission of weakness. And most of all, the loss of having that special friend who can give me that nice little innocent push on nights when the rain taps on your roof, incessantly reminding you if how pathetic you are, who will tell you with a whole heart that you're fine. Because now, that answer that will make all of those bad feelings go away, is exclusively reserved for that guy who took the doormat in.

I may be a vixen, but I am vulnerable too.

Very vulnerable.

I drive.

Headlights out. Windows up. Engine off. I remember one of my fondest escapades was with my ex in his car. In an open field parking lot one Friday night. If I remember correctly, this was even the first time we got frisky. It began after dinner, over which we talked about dreams. Yes. Being enamored over someone can turn me into an innocent sap, sweet and seemingly harmless. Seemingly. Come to think of it, I don't really remember how we got around to kicking off the game that night. All I remember was after dinner, we drove around the city. My hand would be on his hand as he held his stick. Not his dick. Not yet. Then I would steal his lips with kisses on the red light. There were a lot of red lights. Before we know it, My hand was already driving his shaft.

Oh, foreplay. I love playing with the eagerness and intensifying the longing, the lust. I would have the opposite case of Cher - desire doesn't make me weak. It makes me horny. I also am a bit of a penchant for danger. I like being risky with my frisky. I like sex in places where I can get caught. I like being illicit where other people would have no idea of what is actually going on. And if you guessed that I was already giving head to my ex as he drove, give yourself a pat on the back. Judging from his hard on, his eagerness was way off the charts and deep into my throat.

I could hear him moan in slow deep breaths as my oral vacuum took in his throbbing sensation. The radio was off and all we heard were the melody of rubber buzzing the road, while the darkness was teased by the glitter of the traffic - black with moving spots of reds in circles, squares, and rectangles. Every few gulps, I'd breathe with my mouth and the air dribbled slurp sounds with the saliva. Then I'd pull out, and lick the sweet tip of his manhood. "We have to stop somewhere. Jesus, I can't concentrate."

"I am dangerous." I smiled.

We crossed one of the major highways to a then-newly developed area making room for cosmopolitan urban dwellers. The party scene in this area was slowly growing, hence every few days, there would be a major event in one of the fields, bars, or concert areas. Beside one such venue was an open field parking lot. Guards would patrol the area, but it was too vast and on that night, the whole party population of the town relocated there. It was so full to the brim, we ended up parking at the dark end where the grassy patches melted with the semi slushy mud, far from the guard and the guardhouse. I finished him. Then he finished me. Our towels were in our gym bags inside his trunk. But we managed to keep clean thanks to a bird called swallow. Yet, despite my promiscuity and all the adventures I've gone through, I have a confession to make. I have never received head while I drove. Never.

Then tonight happened.

I believe I have reached that age when younger guys are finding me more attractive than threatening. As much as I would hate to admit it, even though I am still in my 20's, I think I am already transitioning into the role of the older man. Most of the guys expressing interest lately are of the younger variety. I guess I should be flattered, there's quite a lot of them at the moment. And the first one who got the farthest was the most recent one I've met. Just this afternoon when I hung out with some friends.

He's in his early 20's. Really early 20's. Still a student. Simple. Shy. Sexy. He was a mix of what I'd like and what I avoid. For the most part of the hang he was quiet. Then the group had to disperse. He lived the same direction as my home, so I offered to have him ride with me. That was when he began to talk. He laid his cards down and admitted having a thing for me. I laid my cards down too. I wasn't in any position to jump into a relationship anytime soon plus some other details about what my types are, who my crushes are, among other things. We shared brief backgrounds. Then the words "do something" came up. Next thing I know, his hand was crawling up my thigh. And the buses ran faster, the honks got louder, the night grew darker, but the only thing that mattered was how his mouth drove my ride.

And that was one item off my bucket list.

The nick of time.

Photo finishing never fails to give me that flush of exhilaration an orgasm short of fulfillment. Then again if the photo finish does involve an orgasm, well... There I have it.

On the account that work has been pretty loaded the past few day and that my boss had to go to his doctor for a check-up, I found my Wednesday afternoon pretty, vacant. The internet can only do so much and between the messages, posts, and adds, I was longing to be poked by a real human person beside me (preferably someone I sort of fancy). Quickly I scrolled through my online contacts in the hopes of finding someone to hangout with. Of course personal bias and judgement reigned over my mouse as I scrolled through my list. Too busy. Too boring. Too fat. Too gay. Too girl. Too straight. Too married. Too emo. Too sad. Too happy. Too fake. Too chummy. Too close - perfect.

Doormat. I like him. I like his energy. I like talking to him. He lives nearby. And last I checked, he likes me. I clicked on his name and shared pleasantries from "hi" to "let's eat" to "lemme pick you up at your place". In less than ten minutes (told you he lives nearby) I was dinging his doorbell/buzzer. He opened the door with a jolly "Come in! Come in!" but he stood behind his closet door. He was getting a shirt to cover up his pumped-up chest. "Fresh from the gym... Perfect." I said to myself.

"I think you owe me a hug?" I said. We sorta go a wee bit back (not yet way back) so this hug was coming from some other episode I have yet to write.

And hug we did. Then kiss we did. Then shirts off we did. Then shoes off we did. Then pants off we did. Then underwear off we did. Then on the bed we went. Doormat paused for a brief moment. "This is wrong." "Why?" I asked. "Do you have a boyfriend?" He looked at me, smiled and said "Almost." And continue we did.

He didn't expect what happened to happen. I didn't expect to have gone far myself. I think I went farther than I should have. But seriously, that moment called for it. And I am glad I did. I am glad we did.

Then I laid face down as he put his weight over my back. He breathed through his mouth a few whispers from my ear. My eyes focused on the door, waiting for someone to turn it. Then it happened. I began talking about myself. My vulnerable self. At that moment, I felt like I was talking to a boyfriend. My boyfriend. It was sweet. And for the first time in five years, my guard was down. It was one of those moments when I wish I could reach out to the center of the clock, and rest finger on the path of the second hand so it won't go any further. I could stay like that forever.

But forever was not an option. And a climax must be reached. Dinner was fast approaching. And our phones were beeping. The computer kept beeping. The cars on the traffic down the streets kept beeping. Sooner or later, Doormat will be taken. And I would have lost another could-have-been. And I would still remain alone.

I finished for him. And he gave me one of the most generous compliment I have ever gotten in years.

"You have a very hot cum face."

I gave him a smile as forever just ended, and we were back to reality.

Come together.

My interactions in the sauna or steam room mostly revolve around attraction and mood. There are some men I find questionably palatable, but I give in. There are some that I really wouldn't even imagine entertaining the possibility of contact. Consider this an admission of being picky. Or choosy, whichever is more used in your locale. But yeah, I tend to interact with men I find attractive to my consideration. After years of being part of this one fitness club, I'm pretty sure most of the sauna/steam room regulars have identified cliques and circles. Certain cliques even avoid other cliques. Very high school. Sometimes however, one person from one clique may fancy someone form another, and the result is a more private interaction. On other times, it can even bring certain cliques and individuals together. Last night was one such night.

I had just finished rinsing from the showers and was about to get a drink from the fountain when this one guy whom I have seen for the first time gives me a smile. Normally I avoid gazes and feign disinterest. But he stood too close to the fountain and my glace seemed friendlier to him than usual. Always prone to being misunderstood. After I drink, I made my way to the sauna. Inside, the bulb was out and there were five individuals scattered. As I took my seat, I identified each one as queer. And no, I haven't done it with all of them. Just to be clear.

Smily guy was out of sight. I figured, he must have gone to the steam room. My seat was one ass away from the tinted fiberglass door. I had a good view of the wet floor and whoever was coming in. One of the shower doors opened and out came smily guy. And he was headed for the sauna. When he got in, he took the space to my left and wasted no time making contact. He let the edge of his right hand touch the edge of my left hand which was resting by the edge of my seat. I pulled it to my lap after a few seconds. As I wiped my forehead, my eyes nearly popped out as I felt his had grab my penis.

Everyone was watching. He began stroking me. The guy seated across him moved towards him and began to give him head. The guy across me stood up and took to my right. He looked at the clearance outside then proceeded to lick my nipples. The other guy by the door across us began to touch himself. The guy sucking shifted seats and began to blow the thin guy form behind him. Smily guy gave me head. Guy to my right asked if I kiss. I wasn't up to it so I told him I had mouth ulcers. As smily guy moved up to lick my nipples, guy to my right takes me into his mouth. My soreness from the workout I had just done gave way to the sensation I was now enjoying. Sucking guy then moved back to smily guy. Smily guy pulls him up and they share a French. He whispered loudly "Do you swallow?" Then sucking guy went straight for smily guy till he moaned. Sucker pulled his lips away from smily guy's tool as he drooled a bit of his cum. He then used his fingers and wiped each drop all back in. Smily guy gives me a kiss then stands up and leaves. Al this time, thin guy masturbated his way into orgasm and came on sucker guy's right shoulder. Guy to my right moved to my left and began to suck me off. Sucker guy headed for guy to my left (guy from my right earlier) and made him cum right inside his mouth. At this point, the pressure was getting too much for me to handle so as I uttered the words "Here I go..." Sucker boy immediately swung his body to my rod and swallowed and sucked mine down to the last drop.

Thin guy steps out. Guy to my left (formerly from my right) steps out. Sucker boy steps out. Across me were the last two guys left touching themselves. They sat four people apart. Once I've caught up with my breath, I looked at them, I smiled, stood up and stepped out with my towel loosely in tow. It was one of those moments where clique walls were down. It was one of those moments where no one seemed to mind. It was one of those moments where everyone was just too horny.

Sex does bring people together. Cliqued, loner, tripper, or plain horny Joe. What happens after is to each his own.

I could've been dead by now.

Saturday last week, I hooked up with this guy from the gym. He was my type and he wasn't my type. He was huge, muscular. The kind who can lift and plug me without my feet touching the floor. That says a lot after all, I myself am a bit massive. I like that. I like big men. I like 'em a lot. His face however was something I leave with the shadows and heat of the sauna. He wasn't ugly per se. To be kind, his face was one that I'd need a little growing on. But his tool more than made up for it. Porn star material down there. Seriously.

We were getting busy inside the gym sauna. It was one of those off hours where there was no one but us. This didn't last long. As soon as the studio class ended, other men, older men, ugly men, started pouring into the lockers, showers, and sauna. Before another person invaded our recluse, he goes "Wanna continue somewhere more private?" Next thing I knew, we were in a room in one of the nearby motels. Lights dim. Thermostat low. All bare. Arms entangled. Legs intertwined. Lips locked. Action-packed.

Amidst the kissing, licking, fondling, and hugging, a wee bit conversation took place. Jokes. Queries. Random bits of personal details. He gave me his name. He showed me his ID. I gave him an alias. He'd kiss me after each, answer, laugh, story. And after one such kiss, he pulled his head back. I looked at him and smiled. I didn't expect hearing the most bloodcurdling words come out of his mouth right after.

"You're lips are so delicious. That's a good thing. At least when I finish you off later, your friends will think that you're just sleeping." It's much scarier in our vernacular.

A good friend of mine was murdered over a year ago. My best friend's good friend was murdered a few years back. Pick-ups. Hook-ups. Mistakes. Despite my longing for a sensational death, I didn't want that to happen to me. (I'd rather have my death be involved with a big political/religious conspiracy or something to that effect.) No way was I gonna let myself be murdered by some silly hook-up with huge arms and a huge prick.

At that point my life flashed before my eyes. And as soon as my consciousness caught up with what was going on, I aimed for the nearest thing I can pull to whack him on the head with. Just in case. I wasn't gonna go down without a fight. No way.

He noticed a shift in my mood (yes, I can still keep it up despite such emotional anguish, it's a gift). He asked me what was wrong, so I told him off. He said that he was only joking. But I made it clear that what he said wasn't my idea of a joke. What happened after? We proceeded with the sex. But my other eye stayed sober, just in case he would try to pull off something. And we finished the deed.

We cleaned up, showered, and dressed up. I stayed at the far end of the room where he stood. At some point before we called for the motel staff, he was talking to me. I didn't remember what he was saying. My attention was locked on his right hand that stayed deep in his messenger bag. That was the longest two minutes I've ever faced. It could've been the last two minutes of my life. I didn't what he'd pull out of there. As the doorbell rang, he finally pulled out his hand now holding a wallet. As soon as we cleared with the staff, I calmly walked by his side out to the street and bid him farewell. I didn't care if I walked out of motel just like that. I don't think I'd have been comfortable waiting for a cab thinking I can still die at any given time.

And so I live to write another entry. haven't seen him in the gym yet. I'm pretty sure I'll bump into him. Wouldn't mind doing a little hanky-panky with him, but just in the gym premises. That I'd consider safer sex.

Of doormats, exes, make-outs, and getting caught...

Been sort of seeing this guy on and off since November last year. He is a self-confessed relationship junkie. He believes he operates better as a person when he is coupled up. I never found myself attracted to him. He wasn't my type. At all. But if there was one thing that drew me towards him, he had this positive bolt of Mr. Nice energy that's just contagious. He'd cook lunch for me. He'd invite me over for afternoon naps (since he lives near where I work). We'd have afternoon snacks at the mall. When I am with him, I just feel so good. But I am still not attracted to him. And I've told him that.

I've called him my doormat. And we were cool. We'd at most cuddle and MOMOL, a local expression for "just make out". Last week, he told me he had been seeing this other guy and that they were getting along fine. It bothered me a bit, I must admit. He was my doormat and the moment he got into a relationship, that other guy would've just pulled the rug I was standing on. While we chatted, he confessed that even before we met online in one of those sleazy sites, that he had already spotted me from a common friend's profile. He had stalked me before. And he admitted having a crush on me ever since. Can't blame him (fine, a little humility should be in order).

Didn't speak to him for a week. Earlier, I felt a bit vulnerable. The birthday (mine) was coming up and the usual stresses involved with aging just made me feel a bit down. So I chatted him up and we decided to meet up and hit the gym together around 6pm. I was outside his building and stood there for a good three minutes when I called him up telling him that I had been waiting. And all he said was "You aren't coming up?" When I rang his doorbell, he shouted that it was open. Soon as I was in, we were making out. A little bit of horsing around too. Laughing. Kissing. Rolling in bed. Clothed, don't worry. He was supposed to be getting ready for the workout so he was shirtless. But I assure you, I was covered up real well.

I was sharing with him my sentiments about hitting the gym at this hour. If I remembered correctly, my ex would workout after office hours. He was the last person I wanted to bump into right now. And I didn't want him to see me like this. Doormat got my back. We joked about the matter. "What if I hyperventilate and faint?" I asked. "I'll try to catch you." Gave me a good look and went, "I'll call for the trainers to help spot me as I carry you." Yes. I am not the lightest person on Earth. We dilly-dallied a good half hour and amidst jokes and lip-locks, we heard his door turn.

When I met doormat, he had just broken up with his boyfriend. They've been a couple for a good four years or something like that. They've travelled a lot together. And they lived together for a good year or so. Actually, they still live together. As roommates. I really don't believe him when he says there are no benefits. But his word against mine. Doormat's ex is a schoolmate of mine whom I have flirted with some five years back. Before they were together. Just online though. We never met in person.

Going back, as the door turned, doormat sprung up, fidgety and smily. As his ex walked in the room, my phone got a message. Doormat introduced me to his ex. I said hi. He said hello. Doormat was awkward. "We were on our way to the gym." The ex was in disbelief. But he just smiled and got ready for his dinner out. After the pleasantries, we stepped out and laughed so loud at the elevator. Doormat wasn't able to workout. I did. Got a good endorphin rush. Doormat was gonna go meet up with the guy he's seeing for a dinner date. My ride was ready to pick me up. We parted ways.

"It was fun. At least it wasn't my ex whom we saw." I texted him right after.