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.