Lick, Lick, Lick

I pushed Anton down on my bed.

He leaned on his elbows, smiling up at me, whilst I took of my shirt.

I kneeled by the edge of my bed, in between his thighs.

I didn't open his pants right away, but I could see the very considerable bulge tenting out.

I leaned over his crotch and sniffed deeply, my nose burrowing into his pants.

He thrusted out his hips, "Take it out."

I obliged, unzipping him slowly.

He was wearing white boxers, CK.

I sniffed his crotch again, rubbing my nose along the length of the bulge.

He leaned back, savoring the sensation.

I pulled down his pants along with his underwear. His cock popped out, straight as a rod.

Anlaki, I thought. It really was. An eight-incher, maybe, and quite thick.

I harmonica'd the side of Anton's dick, making sure my tongue traced the veins popping out.

"Putanginaaa," he moaned.

I stopped, and looked up at him.

"What?" he said when he noticed.

"Do we have an exam tomorrow in training?" I asked, all seriousness.

He looked at me incredulously, "Are you fucking seriously asking me this right now?"

I smiled, "Just kidding."

I took the entire length down my throat.

Five minutes later, he exploded.

"That was something else," he said, panting, rubbing his hand on his hair.

I lied down next to him, "I've got a pop quiz for you in my briefs."

He smiled, scooted down the bed, and took my dick out.

What can I say? The boy, like me, has no gag reflex.

Coffee with Sexy Batchmate

It was a Wednesday morning, and I was having breakfast with Sexy Batchmate, real name Anton, at The Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf in Greenbelt 3.

I ordered Eggs Benedict while he had a blueberry bagel.

Body language-wise, it seemed to me Anton was offering himself up as a side dish to my eggs.

He kept slowly opening and closing his legs, his crotch slightly thrusted towards me.

We were doing inane small talk with hints of sexual innuendos in between.

It amused me to see how flustered he was whenever I dealt out some witty sexy lines designed to make him hard:

"Would you like a taste of my eggs?"

"I love how you eat around the bagel's hole."

He would laugh, softly, as if he wanted to hide how humurous he found such jokes. The boy was obviously trying to be pa-discreet.

Later on, I got more aggressive, asking him:

"If you were a dessert, how would you like to be eaten?"

He smirked, rubbed his nose, and then answered, "With your hands. And trust me, you're going to need both hands to eat me."

Ha! The boy had chutzpah.

I stood up, "If we leave now, we can be in my condo in ten minutes."

He smiled, and like an obedient dog, followed me out of the coffee shop.

To be continued...

Oh Xander

My living situation with Xander definitely has a lot of benefits.

He's a great cook.

He's just as OC as I am when it comes to cleanliness, maybe even more so.

He knows all the right people, and can get us in to any packed event or resto at a drop of a hat.

Plus, he's definitely a ten when it comes to sex.

He's a generous lover, and has shown me some moves that's made me feel inadequate, at times (and believe me, I'm good).

However, nobody's perfect.

Last night, as I entered our condo, I witnessed him fucking the hell out of someone on our living room sofa.

He was really going at it; no wonder his partner was moaning (actually almost screaming) his name over and over again.

The guy (whoever he was) was sitting almost spread-eagled on the sofa, Xander on top of him, humping away, with the former's hands grasping and squeezing his bubble buttocks.

I ehem'd.

Xander didn't stop humping but he did peek a glance at me.

"Don't mind us, sweetie," he groaned and smiled, "In fact, feel free to join us."

I smiled.

I looked at the guy he was thrusting so hard and deep into.

Hmmm, not bad, not bad at all.

I started unbuckling my belt, "Is there room for one more in there?"

My Sexy Batchmate

Training started last Monday.

I didn't know call centers could be so... fun.

Not a word I use often, believe me. But my batchmates are an interesting mix of people.

Mostly youngsters who are either undergrads or fresh out of college.

Our trainer is a bit of a douchebag, so I ignore him most of the time.

I focus mostly on this batchmate of mine, Josh.

He is just, in a word, yummy.


I honestly thought I would be the hottest in the class, but damn this boy outranks me by a few feet.

He's about six feet, nice lean body, and a fair complexion. A bit chinito.

Is he gay? I don't know yet. My gaydar isn't working on him. So far, he looks straight as straight can be.

He seems really nice and smart as well.

In class, he was sitting about two seats away from me in my row, and I was surreptitiously (I hope) staring at his bulging crotch.

Nice nice nice package.

I am definitely going to test out his goodies, given a chance.

While I was wet-dreaming of licking Josh's ass, the door to our training room opened up and someone peeked in.

Impeccable timing, as always, was my first thought.

The reason I applied here in 3C, the reason I almost ruined my life two years ago, the guy whose neck I would moan into everytime I climaxed, the guy who's life I am plotting to destroy, just walked into our class.

Si Peter, I thought, not breathing, mouth suddenly dry.

He mustn't see me.

Not now. It's too early.

I slid slowly down my seat, trying to hide my face behind the monitor.

I could hear Peter asking our trainer something, douchebag trainer replying, and Peter saying thanks and walking out and shutting the door.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

I sat up properly and noticed that Josh was looking at me, a questioning (but smiling) look on his face.

An email message popped up on my screen.

"You okay?" said an email from Josh.

I looked back at him, smiled, and typed my response.

"Actually no, I'm not. I really need someone to talk to right now," I emailed back.

He read the email and responded in a few seconds.

"Want to have coffee later?" was his response.

I smiled.

Dodging Peter and coffee with my sexy batchmate?

Must be my lucky day.

p.s. Hope you like my pic.

Give and Take

He was checking me out, I was sure of it.

I could feel his eyes lingering on my face, my body. And boy was he making me hard.

It was a Saturday night and I was having dinner in Chelsea's in Bonifacio High with Sebastian.

"Are you listening to me or has your cock taken over your brain again?" he asked, a little peeved off that I wasn't riveted to whatever sexual problems he was experiencing with his boy du jour.

I smiled at him, and let my gaze wander over to the guy sitting behind him.

He wasn't your typical hot guy. He was... well, in a word he was rough.

His aura kinda reminded me of Derek Ramsey, but only a little more polished.

He was looking at me, smiling, and he looked like he was ignoring his friend as well.

"Excuse me, I have to powder my nose," I told Sebastian as I rose and headed for the bathroom.

I could only sense Sebastian shaking his head behind me.

I didn't waste time looking back to check if "Ramsey" would follow me.

I knew he would.

I was washing my hands when he entered.

He checked to see if we were alone in the bathroom before he approached me.

"Hey," he nodded to me.

"Hey," I replied.

He grabbed my wrist and pulled me towards the cubicle, but I stopped him.

"Not here," I whispered.

"Where?"

"Well, what time are you ending your dinner?" I asked, half-smiling at him.

Two or three hours later, he was already texting me that he was downstairs in my building's lobby.

I told him what floor and room number.

I had the place all to myself, Xander being in Malate.

As soon as he entered, he grabbed my crotch.

"Kanina ko pa gusto matikman ito," he said, roughly smelling and licking my neck.

"Easy," I said, thinking, so crude, yet so good.

He was surprisingly submissive in bed, allowing me to do whatever I wanted with him.

He also had a fantastic body and probably one of the biggest cocks I'd ever encountered.

"Can I fuck you?" he asked me, begging with his eyes, teasing my hole with his humungous cockhead.

I smiled, "Me first."

I loved being on top of him, pumping, watching his eyes tighten whenever I thrusted forward, lifting him up by the hips slightly whenever I withdrew.

"Dude, you're killing me," he moaned, "Sarap."

I grunted, thrusting harder, grabbing on to his shoulders from the back.

Twenty minutes later, I came, while biting his neck.

I could feel him cumming all over my stomach.

We separated, panting hard.

A moment later, he said, "That was great."

I didn't respond. I just pulled him on top of me.

"Your turn," I smiled.

My Real Coming Out Story

I was 16.

He was twenty.

I knew nothing.

It seemed to me, at the time, he knew everything.

I was a kid, really.

And he was my brother's kabarkada.

It was late in the afternoon, and my mom asked if he could keep me company while she talked with his mom over sangria.

He gladly complied and asked if I wanted to play video games on his pc in his bedroom.

I nodded.

We went upstairs.

His name was Gio. He was taking up MassComm back then.

He was also part of the neighborhood basketball team.

He was tall, fair-skinned, and a little chinito.

I never paid much attention to him back then, as I was trying to ignore most of the neighborhood males.

I had a girlfriend during that time, and confused thoughts about the male specie were certainly not welcome.

But that day, when Gio invited me into his room, I felt...

HOT.

He leaned his hand on my back as we were walking up to his room, and I swear I could feel his hand sliding down my back, stopping just before my butt.

His hand was warm, really warm.

When we entered his carpeted room, I shivered involuntarily.

It was freezing.

"Sorry if it's so cold, I like it this way, you see," Gio half-smiled at me, "Okay ka lang? Masyado bang malamig?"

And then he wrapped his arms around me, and looked at me intently, this half-smile still on his lips, "Sabihin mo lang pag sobrang lamig ha? Akong bahala."

I shivered again. I was instantly hard.

We sat in front of his pc and he showed me what games he had.

"Anong gusto mong laruin?"  he asked, looking at me sideways, still that goddamned half-smile on his face.

I could feel part of his chest leaning on my shoulder, amoy bagong paligo siya.

I could hear him breathing loudly. His breath, on my ear.

I couldn't talk. I couldn't breathe properly.

He leaned on me some more, his right arm wrapping around my shoulders.

"Okay ka lang?" he whispered in my ear.

I couldn't answer him.

His leg was brushing against mine.

I could feel his coarse leg hair. Scratchy against my smooth one.

His lips brushed against my ear, and then he blew on it some more.

"Okay ka lang?" he whispered again.

"The door," was all I could say.

"Naka-lock na," he said as he pulled me unto his bed.

It was my first time.

And it was good.

The Right To Stay In

I was nineteen years old when I came out to my mother.

We were sitting on metal chairs on our sunny garden. The sun was bright, the wind was a little chilly, and I was feeling not-so-nervous. I remember us drinking ice-cold lemonade in tall glasses. I can still hear the clinking of the ice in the glass, the taste of the square tuna sandwiches.

I love my mother and she adored me. I was spoiled rotten, still am, I guess.

"You were nine when I realized you were gay," was her response.

Apparently, she noticed how fixated I was with our family driver.

"I've accepted it already a long time ago," she casually said, lighting up a cigarette.

She then fixed me this look which always made me feel naked.

"I think the problem you have to deal with is whether you've accepted it already," she winked at me.

I smiled a little ruefully.

She knows me well, what can I say.

I'm a proud person. I really am.

For the past two years, I've had several flings and dozens of one-night-stands.

But nobody else in my family knows I'm gay.

Amongst my closest friends, only Sebastian and Xander know.

In school, in my previous jobs, I never came out. And I was never suspected, as far as I know (I am extremely straight-looking).

I definitely know, without a single shred of doubt, that I will never come out.

I don't need to, nor do I want to.

I don't proclaim to the world how straight I am by courting girls or pretending to be disgusted with how gay my acquaintances are.

I don't need to, nor do I want to.

I applaud other people's choice to come out and be proud.

I'm sure it's very liberating for them.

I am gay, and I am not ashamed of it. However, I don't think we all need to wave the proverbial rainbow flag. I don't tell people I am straight, nor do they ask if I am.

What would I say if ever they ask me if I am? I'll ask them to choose whatever floats their boat and just be content with that.

I have sex with men often and I have lots of fun with them. Is that enough reason for me to say to everyone that I am gay?

Tell me. Why?

I don't need to, nor do I want to.

P.S.

I don't know if people will react to this negatively, as I am not sure if anyone reads this stuff of mine (Hello, one Follower!). But if they do, I am sorry for having offended you, if I did. However, kindly ask yourself first why you were offended. It's not like I'm telling you to be straight or pretend you are. I'm just telling you what I think and feel.

Feel free to live a happy life, everyone.  :-)