highbarebot

I hated every moment of it. I hated the fact that they knew their ways around my naked body. I hated the way they made it look dirty. I hated the smell of sweat and cum. I hated their purring, their moaning, the hungry look in their eyes. I hated them from the very moment she had placed her hands on my shoulders. And I know I would hate them every time I would come to my boyfriend’s house pretending to meet him. … Lez, my boyfriend for the past 2 years, had rarely mentioned about his family. Though our relationship mainly bordered on the carnal side, we had those rare moments where we would lie on my bed, sweating and panting, trying to catch some breath till we are hard again. I would do most of the talking, and he would just listen. Sometimes I would just wonder if the cigarette was more capturing than my rambling. Sometimes, I would just give up, and remain quiet. And he would then turn and face me. Then in a flash he would be on top, rubbing his nose against my chin, smelling me, and then pulling me up against his chest, and burying his face on the right side of my neck. It was always the right side. And we would just stay there for moments which I had never bothered to count. And I would feel his thumping heart, the roughness of his stubble, the limp dick in between my legs slowly (though it always seemed to be in a flash at that time) getting harder, and the tickling and throbbing sensation against my balls, and the hairs down there brushing against mine, the beads of sweat slowly trickling down his back against my hands; I could almost see the curves of his ass, and I would then just close my eyes and imagine how the buns would shake while fucking me. I often wished I had mirrors on the ceiling, so that I could see the show in full action. Nothing turned me on more than a movie scene with a shot of the ass pumping hard. And as I would get hard and my cock would start to hurt due to the little space between our bodies, I would squeeze him for one last time. He felt so cuddly. I often stared at him in class, in the canteen, anywhere when we were together, getting the huge urge to squeeze him tight. And those few seconds till he goes back in control, I would squeeze him harder, feeling his every breath, every shudder, and every heartbeat. … Lez and I were in the same under-graduate class. He was a gym-built, pumped up, chiselled faced rough guy, who had major attitude problem. Often he ended up in fights, which made him look both tough and intimidating. I was quite uncomfortable with him at first. I was this tall, slim yet well-toned guy, who would steal a quick glance at every bulge that went with a tall and young stylish face. I was a closet gay, who enjoyed getting fucked ever since my cousin brother and I had shared the same bed, some six years back, during a family wedding. Lez had caught my eyes when I saw him play basketball one day after class. I had shagged that night thinking about him. And four days later, during a moment of self-doubt in a computer class, I asked him for help. I always wanted to ask him whether he had rubbed his bulge against my arms purposely, or it all happened by accident. That afternoon was tough. I was sweating and rock hard. I could feel the curve of his dick that slowly became hard as my arms, as if innocently, tried to work on the mouse while cautiously brushing against it. He stood still for sometime, and then moved away. I didn’t look at him for sometime. Then I did, and he did too. And we both smiled. I think I blushed a little too evidently. I was warm. And it felt great. I thought I might just be lucky. And I was. He gave me a lift back to the hostel. Then asked me if I could lend some notes of a subject whose name I didn’t even bother to ask. To my relief my roommate was not there. And as I was trying to pull out some papers from my desk, he stood close to me. I stopped and waited. Then as if on cue, he tried to reach out to some book on the other corner of the table. His face was looking at the book, and we were both breathing hard. We could feel the warmth of our breath and bodies, and for a moment I felt the blood rush to my head. His hand was still on the book. His eyes were fixed on it, and his left cheek was towards me. He did not move, but I could feel his chest thumping against my right arm. I turned and faced him. He looked at me, and then inched closer to pick the book up. And I knew it was happening. He was close, his crotch almost within my reach, as was his chest, his face, his lips. In a quick move, I gave a peck on his right cheek, but before I could come back to my original position and assess the damage I could have caused, his hands gripped my arms, and he opened his mouth over mine. And the smell of tobacco and mint, followed by a wet tongue and saliva, and a tight hug and pelvic thrusts, and then a quick zipping down of jeans, and I had his hard medium sized dick in my mouth. It was warm and hard, oozing pre-cum with the stifling moist smell. … I somehow managed to be the star pupil of my class. And in spite of facing a tough opposition and frequent taunts about my subtle effeminate demeanour, I managed to become the general secretary of the class. As I walked up the dais to shake hands with the disgusting dean of ours, I looked at Lez who was standing nearby, waiting for his turn as the sports secretary, and looking quite bored with the entire proceedings. He just stared at me. … I felt a sudden jolt of pain in my stomach and chest. I stood there motionless. I was hurt. I was jealous. I simply stared at Lez and Laila, riding Lez’s silver coloured Yamaha. I had seen the two of them talking and laughing, and I knew Lez was not gay, and we were just having sex. But no matter how much I tried to convince myself, I couldn’t help. I was infatuated. I was probably in love. … In the heat of the moment, Lez knocked off an alarm clock kept on the side-table. The moment was gone, and we were both motionless and quiet. It was an old clock, presented to me by my aunt. I shrugged and turned towards him. He was staring at the wall. When I touched him, he jerked away from me. I tried to explain that I did not value the watch very much, but he did not listen. He just got dressed and left. That night after dinner, as me and a couple of friends headed back to our respective rooms, I saw Lez driving away from the hostel gate. Quite surprised, I came down the stairs, and the guard told me that he had left something in my room, and had gone up to get it back. For a moment I thought he probably brought a clock for me. With mixed feelings, I hurried towards my room. And there on my table, was nothing that was new. I looked around, and realized, there was nothing new in my room. He did leave behind something. He did not buy an alarm clock for me. … Lez and Laila were doing it. I tried to remain strong through all the gossips. I believed it as we hardly did it ourselves these days. And I was shagging two other guys around on a regular basis. For a moment, it all seemed to be a thing in the past. And then the accident occurred. … When we reached the hospital, Lez was already on the operating table. Laila was unconscious in some other room. As we waited outside the O.T., for the first time, I saw his parents. … For the first few months it hurt. Lez had changed. We were no longer the same together. In fact, we were not even together anymore. Silently, we had parted ways. Though we still met in class, and ever since the accident Lez had been falling back in studies so I had to help him at times with the assignments and other projects, but we were still far apart. Even if by accident our bodies faintly touched the other, we would apologise and shirk away. The heat, the passion, the desire was now dead. … When I rang the door-bell of his house, I thought of all those dreams I had about visiting his house for the very first time, with him by my side. Only today I was, but was alone. Due to some reason, Lez had lost all his data on his laptop, and the final project submission was just around the corner. One frantic phone-call and I was on my way. I didn’t know why, but I just did. Lez’s mother answered the door. As I was led to Lez’s room, I felt a strange sense of uneasiness. Though I had met Mrs. K several times at the hospital, I could feel her staring at me as I walked up the stairs, with her leading me from behind. She gave me a weird smile as I entered Lez’s room. Shirtless, on the bed, was Lez. As she closed the room from behind, Lez got up and walked towards the window. He closed the drapes and walked up towards me. Sometime back, such a move would have turned me on, and though my heart began thumping, I was just puzzled. The room was semi-dark. As Lez locked the door, I walked towards the lap-top. To my surprise, I found it working. As I was about to turn towards Lez, I felt his arms wrapping me from behind. And there we stood, in a tight embrace. Lez had his head on my right shoulder. Slowly he let me go, and then smiled. I was puzzled. That afternoon, Lez and I lied next to each other on his bed. We were both quiet, and Lez just stroked my hair with his fingers, slowly moving it down to my ears, my lobes, and then to my neck. Softly he would finger feel my arms, my nipples, my chest and then gradually move up to my lips. Soft and tender, the brush of his fingers on my cheeks, slowly circling, and then running over the outer contours of my lips, then over my chin, and then lightly over my eyes… for moments I was shuddering in ecstasy. Then, all of a sudden, Lez strong hands grabbed my arms and pulled me on top of him, and then he buried his mouth against mine, and we just stayed there. I almost choked, but I knew this moment would never be back again. Slowly Lez turned me around. And I lay there, on top of him, staring at the ceiling, and feeling his hands running all over my body. Slowly he felt my bulging crotch, unzipped my jeans and pulled my tee out. And then his hands gently squeezed my chest and the sides of my body. We lay like this for some time, and then I rolled over. Lez was quiet. And then he pulled out his dick, and began to jerk off. I did not expect this sudden turn of event, so I tried to touch it, but Lez shoved my hands aside. So I just watched him. Seconds later, Lez sprung up and with his right arm grabbed my head, while his left hand continued to jerk off vigorously. And then he held his dick close to my mouth, and came. I didn’t feel like it, but still opened my mouth to take his load of salt n bitter warm cum. I was no stranger to this, but today I felt like I was. And for the first time I felt dirty. … I was waiting for Lez in his room when his mother knocked and entered the room. She said that Lez would be late and asked if I would join her in the kitchen for a snack. I knew I would any ways be bored, so I agreed. When I walked into the kitchen, I saw Lez’s dad sitting at the edge of the dining table, sipping coffee. I noticed how his eyes ran up and down my body. For a moment I felt embarrassed to have shown up in tight jeans, and I was sure they were certainly displeased. But later, after being served some strawberries, when Mrs. K sat a little too close to me and his father began to dip a peeled banana in a bowl of white yogurt and (suggestively) sucked onto it, that I realized that I should probably leave. I wanted to, but something kept me seated. And then Mrs. K complimented me on my tee, and then my jeans, all the while feeling it with her trembling hands, as if to enjoy the fabric. Her hands on my thigh sent shivers down my spine. I knew cupping. And I stood up. And then there was no more doubt. Lez’s father was looking at my bulge. I thanked them for their hospitality while trying not to look at them directly, but before I could finish, Mrs. K patted my buns, and then rubbed my bulge, and winked suggestively at her husband. I was shocked beyond compare. Lez’s father and Mrs. K both took turns in sucking my cock. Then Mrs. K sat on my hard long uncut dick, while Lez’s father had me suck him deep. And as I tried hard to take them both together, I kept thinking why I was doing it. Before I knew, I was on my back, and getting fucked. Lez’s father came in my ass. Mrs. K. stroked my hair and then left to wash off. … It had become a game. The 50 something, well-established couple with reputed social status had a new boy toy. I had understood that if I didn’t play along, I wouldn’t loose much, only Lez. After the first time, Mrs. K had hissed that she knew about Lez’s other side, and that if I did not give them what they wanted, she would make sure that Lez would never get it either. Though it would have bothered me less, as I could have got other Lez, I didn’t know why I went back every time they called. And then one day, I thought I should stop. As they were busy licking my body, I was staring up at the ceiling, thinking that I have the upper hand against them. If I exposed them, they would be ruined. But I knew that would also destroy Lez. So I looked at them. Lez’s father looked at me while licking my balls, and I motioned him to come closer. And for the first time, killing all my shame and guilt, I kissed him on his mouth for the first time. From that day, I had rimmed them and sucked them, fucked them and got fucked. I even entered into their secret society of couples engaging into groups and sodomy. I was good, I knew, as I began to please more and more of them. And every time I went to Lez, I thought that it was all worth it. Not that I was bowing down to a vague threat I couldn’t have resolved otherwise, but the fact that I kept their parents happy and satisfied, was a reason enough for me. And one day, when Lez looked up at me after a hard fuck, covered in sweat with hairs curled up on his forehead dripping drops of sweat, and smelling of manliness, I smiled and leaned forward to kiss his forehead. And he just glanced at me, with my legs still high up in the air; and then he buried his head, exhausted, on my right shoulder. … It began to hurt one day. And I bled. Then I passed out. … I had little recollections of those days. But I remember the frantic faces of my parents. The diagnosis had shocked them. And everyone was talking about it. And they had questions. Everyone had. But I was quiet. … When Lez turned himself to the police, I was still bedridden. The news reached me after a week. It was in the papers. Everyone was shocked at the apparent cold blooded murder. Though the attorneys began digging out dirt from all sides, even hinting at sexual abuse, little seemed favourable for Lez. A cold friend of mine told me that Lez was quiet throughout the entire ordeal. And that he has pleaded guilty. … My mother sneered at my father when he read out the verdict from the papers. I could overhear their discussion from my room. For a moment I thought my mother’s hatred was due to the obvious fact, but upon careful listening I understood that it was not because of a son butchering his parents after raping them, but because of confessing lewd sexual molestation and abuses by threat and force upon her ailing son, causing him to suffer from an incurable anal cavity disorder. It had not been the son’s fault for engaging in sodomy, for it was he who had done it to him, even with the help of drugs on occasions. The son was thus pure and a victim in the eyes of the world. And the accused was damned for straying from the right side of the world.

Often I face the strange question - "What's the biggest one you have taken?" No offense meant to the ones who do that, but why is that important? Is it like some kind of a credibility check? The bigger I can take, the better or more comfortable I am... or uncomfortable !!! It seems that some guys have this opinion that the bigger and harder bottoms have taken, the more "adjustable" (OMG) he would be ... and then there are some who plainly rejects such kinds - as they turn out to be "not so tight". Of course its both ways. I often see my counterparts in the chat room asking big and MORE BIG ones .... And I wonder how much big would finally satisfy them. Undoubtedly the size of the male genitals have been the focal point of attraction. In fact some body once told me, gays have big dicks (frankly I have my doubts). But the best part in the whole deal is, even if you have the right size, do you know how to use it? Now don't hit the reply button filing your protests . Its not just the fucking act that is its use in bed. The way you do it, is what matters. One bottom friend of mine was sharing his sexcapades with his latest boyfriend, who seemingly has a small dick. Just like Samantha of Sex and the City, my friend has huge attraction towards bigger organs (and he rarely settles for anything below 7)... but going around with a guy with 5.5 (though he is good looking) was something I found unbelievable. So I asked him what made him make an exception. And he said, well he has substitutes... So when Enrique had announced his endorsement of X-Small Condoms, a large part of the female fan base had to re-dream... and I thought, huh! Does it make any difference? He was still Enrique ... the biggest substitute... Well ! I may sound foolish, as of course we would like to get banged by the biggest and hardest of tools, but then again, in this world where we seem to have a substitute for everything, does size really matters?

Open Relations … now thats an interesting concept that I am trying to understand off late, especially after meeting someone who is (or claims to be) in one. What exactly is Open Relationship ? 1) There is some degree of commitment, yet no issues if I screw around 2) I live with you, take care of you, and get the same in return… and yet there is no legal binding for the same … so can move out any time … 3) Maybe marriage is silly a term, our relationship is much deeper than that (what’s live-in then?) 4) Come on, lets not restrict ourselves 5) 6) 7) You are most free to add up to my list. Interestingly, the concept is viewed differently in different societies. As I find many of my friends smirking at the thought, as for them it is nothing but an open license for adultery… many others are quite accepting of the fact that it is a good way of removing the restrictions that are otherwise set by the tradional boundaries of marriage. But then again, how open is an open relationship? Does it necessarily overcome some drawbacks of marriage (if any ?) or is just a plain fad of time? Long back I read an interview of the wife of an idustrialist who said that she thinks that if her husband maintains an occassional affair outside marriage, she is quite fine with it. As long as he comes back to her. Point to be noted, and I have been sensing the same, that open relationship often tinkers the message of an affair, or sex, or date… but never does it talk about companionship. I am not very sure, but shouldn’t that also be considered. If that exists, that is… But the open relationship concept probably works best when their exists a equivalent amount of maturity and sense of security in the two minds. Else the mix could be explosive. Think of the possibility. And of the possible harm. At one hand, it can make you reduce the tension of commitment, and yet could bring about more than asked for. But somewhere in the whole argument, I am thinking, dont we still have the sense of responsibility and commitment existing in our daily relationships. After all, even as friends, we are bound by unwritten laws laid down by the heart. Wouldn’t it be weird, if we had open friendship, whatever that would be like. Whatever, maybe the definition implies a deeper definition. Maybe society demands for it from a high profile couple, or boredom and the daily routine desires a change, or the basic nature compels to look out, or just too free a nature prevails. But at the end of the day, a relationship of some sort exists.

Why are some men scared of kissing ? Or should I rephrase that to tops… but then again, lets not generalize… inspite of whatever the statistics says … So what is so taboo about kissing a guy ? And by kiss I mean a real one.. not a diplomatic peck … Hmm some theories, 1 ) It is a sign of affection and love, and since most are just there to pump out, kissing is too personal which needs to be shared with the boyfriend, wife or girlfriend… 2 ) Bad Breath 3 ) Ugly Teeth 4 ) Coz I am not comfortable thinking where that mouth of yours have been, though I would like to feel that … (What the !!!) 5 ) Doesnt like the idea of exchange of saliva … … But then, what is it that is so special about kissing? Does it seal the deal with anything special ? Whatever it is, as those ageless tales say, the first kiss of true love can break all spells… As a starter, or at the height of passion, or to end the session.. whenever you are using it… it becomes a witness to the moment of bliss felt by the two hearts … and then again there is the kiss of affection and love… something that Ms. Faith Hill sings as Its the way you love me… Its a feel like this… Its in typical motion… Its perpetual bliss… Its that pivotal moment… Its .. Aaaahhh… Impossible!!! This Kiss, This Kiss… Unstoppable This Kiss, This Kiss…

A dear friend of mine told me that some imposter has put up his picture in PlanetRomeo claiming to be his own… and apparently, this is not the first time. The memory took me back years when my G4M id (anyone remember Guys4Men?) was hacked and several of my work was lost. Surprisingly, taking someone else’s identity is not uncommon, especially, people find it quite an amusement and, thanks to technology, their natural birthright to CTRL+C, CTRL+V someone else’s picture in their BBRT, Planetromeo, Grindr or even BreedingZone… Plain Insecurity? Work of the Devilish Mind? Unbearable craving for the Flesh? Or a devious scheme to shame someone? One can psychoanalyze the reason in several ways… My friend asked me, why would a person wanna do that. Its true.. why would one? Maybe because he is cute and photogenic… but then again, there are so many models whose pics are there too. As often I find some known or unknown Actors / Models from another part of the world flashing themselves as James, Jack, Ahmad, Mike, Raj, Sunny, etc etc … Either they are flashing their alternative lifestyle (open for debate, but for another time) through a mask which incidently takes the cover of their own, or … well, you can guess. But then again, these are so common, that very few are fooled. Hence pick the ones who are bold enough to face the world… and take cover behind them… Fear? Well, yes. At one point of time, a well-wishing friend asked me to take off my picture from one of then popular gay social networking site, qouting the then incident of police taking in gays… That did rattle a bit… When all else of openness are shunned in a country that have favoured the purdah, the hidden domes of realization of one’s ownselves stand threatened by the acts of men… however vice and undefined it may sound, the truth of the situation cannot be ignored. So, should we hate these guys who, like the parasitic growths over succular tissue or symbiotic implants in leguminous roots, take their kick from the high of another tribesman. Many of them are married, confused, curious, and definitely horny. And though the forbidden fruit is tasty and too-good-to-resist… the fear of being banished from the garden of eden, especially by the hands of he and she who made them, probably brings out another identity, another name… and hence, the need to adopt another face… Many have the guts to live the dual life in the same face. I have been living the same for a long time now, and only last year have I been able to integrate all ends together. And many others are brave to have just one life to live. And the rest… well! They say, Beauty lies in the Eyes of the beholder! Hence, fool the beholder itself. And in your own eyes, you meet what you set out for. No question of guilt thereof. Come on, its the internet. Their argument could be, its an openly available picture. Maybe someone who doesnt know my orientation (yet) may come across the picture of mine someone else have put on and get (well some feeling)… doesnt hold anything against him legally. IT Security Act can hold good when you know on whom to apply it against. But the face itself is false, how good does the basic information hold against them then. You can set out to expose the imposter… Best of Luck! Maybe thats what one should do. A brief discussion followed on locking the pictures and other methods of privacy protection… corrective measures. Wish somewhere somehow the preventive measure would suceed. A wishful thinking. I do support the corrective measure of sneaking the rat out in his own game of hide and seek, and beating the pulp out of him. Because your identity is what you own and have, and noone in the world has the right to take it away from you. And if you let them, then which identity do you see in the mirror the next day. Unless of course, you master your eyes to look beyond that…

A dear friend of mine told me that some imposter has put up his picture in PlanetRomeo claiming to be his own… and apparently, this is not the first time. The memory took me back years when my G4M id (anyone remember Guys4Men?) was hacked and several of my work was lost. Surprisingly, taking someone else’s identity is not uncommon, especially, people find it quite an amusement and, thanks to technology, their natural birthright to CTRL+C, CTRL+V someone else’s picture in their BBRT, Planetromeo, Grindr or even BreedingZone… Plain Insecurity? Work of the Devilish Mind? Unbearable craving for the Flesh? Or a devious scheme to shame someone? One can psychoanalyze the reason in several ways… My friend asked me, why would a person wanna do that. Its true.. why would one? Maybe because he is cute and photogenic… but then again, there are so many models whose pics are there too. As often I find some known or unknown Actors / Models from another part of the world flashing themselves as James, Jack, Ahmad, Mike, Raj, Sunny, etc etc … Either they are flashing their alternative lifestyle (open for debate, but for another time) through a mask which incidently takes the cover of their own, or … well, you can guess. But then again, these are so common, that very few are fooled. Hence pick the ones who are bold enough to face the world… and take cover behind them… Fear? Well, yes. At one point of time, a well-wishing friend asked me to take off my picture from one of then popular gay social networking site, qouting the then incident of police taking in gays… That did rattle a bit… When all else of openness are shunned in a country that have favoured the purdah, the hidden domes of realization of one’s ownselves stand threatened by the acts of men… however vice and undefined it may sound, the truth of the situation cannot be ignored. So, should we hate these guys who, like the parasitic growths over succular tissue or symbiotic implants in leguminous roots, take their kick from the high of another tribesman. Many of them are married, confused, curious, and definitely horny. And though the forbidden fruit is tasty and too-good-to-resist… the fear of being banished from the garden of eden, especially by the hands of he and she who made them, probably brings out another identity, another name… and hence, the need to adopt another face… Many have the guts to live the dual life in the same face. I have been living the same for a long time now, and only last year have I been able to integrate all ends together. And many others are brave to have just one life to live. And the rest… well! They say, Beauty lies in the Eyes of the beholder! Hence, fool the beholder itself. And in your own eyes, you meet what you set out for. No question of guilt thereof. Come on, its the internet. Their argument could be, its an openly available picture. Maybe someone who doesnt know my orientation (yet) may come across the picture of mine someone else have put on and get (well some feeling)… doesnt hold anything against him legally. IT Security Act can hold good when you know on whom to apply it against. But the face itself is false, how good does the basic information hold against them then. You can set out to expose the imposter… Best of Luck! Maybe thats what one should do. A brief discussion followed on locking the pictures and other methods of privacy protection… corrective measures. Wish somewhere somehow the preventive measure would suceed. A wishful thinking. I do support the corrective measure of sneaking the rat out in his own game of hide and seek, and beating the pulp out of him. Because your identity is what you own and have, and noone in the world has the right to take it away from you. And if you let them, then which identity do you see in the mirror the next day. Unless of course, you master your eyes to look beyond that…

One of the thoughts that has been going on in my mind is the feeling of meeting someone from the past. Quite recently, a friend turned pale after bumping into his ex, someone who seems to be holding on to a hope… As the party moved on, the ex kept hovering around, stealing words, touch, hugs, even a dance or two, wherever possible… What kept bugging was not the ex’s apparent inability to let go, but my friend who went weak… Later he tried to deny a sudden gush of old feeling, but there it was. Out in the open, in his face, in his actions, in his eyes. A quick dipstick study amongst some online in Kuala Lumpur Gay Group I manage, made me realize that no matter how much you say you have moved on, and even having a new partner in your arms, doesnt necessarily stops you from going back. A road that you thought you had lost the route map of. Some friend of mine squirm, pout, bitch and sulk at the sight of an old fling around… and the rest just look on. But everyone of them hits back on a sudden, quick moment of emotion. Sadly, when I look back at the prospect of meeting anyone of my ex’s, I just couldnt stop doing a post-mortem instead. Somehow, no song hits back. Difficult as it is, very few of my friend seem to have actually the power to smile and take it casually. Most just avoid. What bugs me is that, would it be really tough to just shake hand as a friend, taking the touch as just an old feeling revisited. After all, its just something we were familiar with, and something we know would (probably) not be back anytime… Maybe one of my best friend R*** does it best. He keeps putting on the practical angle. But then, not everyone can do. And so, all across from the other side of the room, when you find a familiar awkward face, the heart skips a beat. Maybe pain and anger gushes out, but also a deep pain lurks around. Maybe a strong drink, grass or drug keeps it down… but the song plays on … What’s with the Tummy? It was funny to see the obsession behind the tummy amongst all those around me. Whilst most are clear in their online profiles that they want Tummy less, oddly enough I see most guys in local saunas in KL with healthy body and satisfied looks. And its not that they were picked up by someone who packed some pounds of extra fat of his own around his waist, but many a times by those who seems could do with some fat on their bones. I thought of dismissing this observation to Fetish. You see a year back I was seeing this guy, who seems to be quite interested in the accumulated fat around the waist then. Well, I agree that everyone may not be that accommodative and have wants, but how would you like if after sex, or even during, your partner pulls the skin so hard that you feel like punching the daylights (or nightlights out of him… well… sadly, i also couldn't resist sometimes. Anyway, that's another story. Now the fat and the guy are distant memory. But this recollection got me thinking. 6 pack, 28 inch waistline… Survey Time: I asked 10 guys – 5 tops and 5 bottom (not a good sample, but cant help it)… not sure what would be the confidence level here, but… only 1 of my bottom friends said that he wouldn't mind a top with a paunch… he found it hot… hmmpphh… sad survey. Well… for a moment, I felt bad for all the chubby, 36+ waistlines… I am sure my dipstick wasn't accurate, they sure are with someone. When I was in India and now in Malaysia, I often found guys with great bodies with a boyfriend, who frankly, don't have such a great body or looks. Its after all in the sex and person, maybe the bank balance, I told myself. I couldn't deny my attraction to food. I am foodie.. I trip on good food… chocolates, cakes, cokes… and while my then partners didn't mind stuffing me up, the apparent longing for a Tom Daley waistline didn't go either … Irony!!! In any case, I found that not everyone seems to have my passion for food… of course, a lot of guys eat, drink and work out like hell… body consciousness has to be high among gays… Tragically, working out seems to be such a big work to me always… then of course, a lovely pal (Angel) redefines what one calls – body beautiful. Though he could easily be termed as well developed, his star quotient doesn't makes it out of place. And so when he is at the party, he carries him so very well, that actually guys take a second look. And not the mockery filled ones, but real admiration ones… Huh! That's the best part. What do I sacrifice. My weakness for food… or my obligation to my partner’s need for a turn-on body… Well, as Angel inspires me… its all about how you carry yourself. And well if my torso doesn't exactly helps… well what to do … at least my chocolate fantasy wont fade away someday … Hmm .. this philosophy might not work with everyone… as a friend once lectured me on the importance of not being single… well… right now my thought is… if I have to starve and sweat to keep my boyfriend in my bed… well… i would rather choose not to … After all… waist is not all that one can offer .. Right ! Xtreme Passion … A Bed for Three Invitation for threesomes always gets me rattled. Not that I am totally ignorant of it, I just dont get the trip in it. And for those of you well aware of the growing CF-situation in Asia, would know that 1-1s are becoming a thing of the past amidst chem sessions. Well… talk about being kinky… but threesome just doesnt gimme a kick.. however, sometimes they can be a surprise. There is this guy who has been after my ass for long. So one day, I decided to take a good look and started a serious chat, and lord be praised, out comes a straight question - can I ask another friend of mine to join? Well! He might have been desperate or he was well experienced to know that after a while when high, you need someone else to engage while you re-energize! Threesome and multisome still remains a major attraction in sex, and surprisingly, it continues to be a suggestion to bring change in one’s sex session. Somehow, I cant help wondering where to place the concentration or rather whom to concentrate on. After all, there would be favourites. The best part is, someone once asked me for a threesome so he can have me in front of his boyfriend and I hit it off with the boyfriend more. Lol! Someone I recently had a lovely chat while puffing but without having to engage in cheap sex, told me that he would rather prefer a foursome to have an equal distribution of attention than a threesome where one person always might get left out. I could sense that in dark saunas where multiple guys engage in orgies, the issue about attention doesn't arise. But when you are hosting a session at home or somewhere, does it stay on top of your head to ensure everyone is being taken care of? Well, in case you are thinking… I did have threesome … but you know what … it felt much much better with just one guy… Maybe its just me … but somehow .. thats what it was…

And no, this aint another raunchy story to sexcite and bring hope. A US national survey of 496 lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and questioning (LGBTQ) students under 19 years of age who were affiliated with local youth service organizations found: Two out of five youth (41.7 percent) did not feel safe in their school because they are LGBTQ (n=191) 86.7 percent of LGBTQ youth who felt safe in their schools still reported sometimes or frequently hearing homophobic remarks Despite reporting feeling safe, 46 percent of LGBTQ youth reported verbal harassment, 36.4 percent reported sexual harassment, 12.1 percent reported physical harassment, and 6.1 percent reported physical assault in their school 91.4 percent of LGBTQ youth reported that they sometimes or frequently hear homophobic remarks in their school (words such as “faggot,” “dyke,” or “queer”)99.4 percent of LGBTQ youth reported hearing homophobic remarks from other students (n=481) Over one-third (36.6 percent) of LGBTQ youth reported hearing homophobic remarks from faculty or school staff (n=177) Over one-third (39.2 percent, n=184) of LGBTQ youth reported that no one ever intervened when homophobic remarks were heard. Almost half (46.5 percent, n=218) reported that someone intervened only some of the time. Other students were more often reported to intervene (82.4 percent) than were faculty (66.5 percent) 38.2 percent of youth did not feel comfortable speaking to school staff about LGBTQ issues (n=179) 47.7 percent of youth from the Midwest, 41.7 percent of youth from the Northeast, 31.6 percent of youth from the South, and 29.4 percent of youth from the West reported being uncomfortable talking to any school staff member about LGBTQ issues69 percent of LGBTQ youth reported experiencing some form of harassment or violence (n=342) 61.1 percent (n=300) of LGBTQ youth reported experiences of verbal harassment with 45.9 percent (n=106) having experienced it daily 46.5 percent (n=224) reported experiences of sexual harassment, 27.6 percent (n=134) reported experiences of physical harassment, and 13.7 percent (n=68) reported experiences of physical assault 73.7 percent of transgender youth reported hearing homophobic remarks “sometimes” or “frequently” 94 percent of white youth, 85.7 percent of African-American/Black youth, 80.6 percent of Latino(a) youth, and 93.8 percent of Asian/Pacific Islander youth reported hearing homophobic remarks “sometimes” or “frequently” 98.3 percent of youth from the Midwest, 92.3 percent of youth from the South, 89.4 percent of youth from the West, and 86.4 percent of youth from the Northeast reported hearing homophobic remarks “sometimes” or “frequently” 40 percent of Latino(a) youth, 29.6 percent of White youth, 18.8 percent of Asian/Pacific Islander youth, and 13.4 percent of African-American/Black youth reported being physically harassed at their schools because of their sexual orientation or gender identity 40.4 percent of youth from the Midwest, 30.2 percent of youth from the West, 21.8 percent of youth from the Northeast, and 17.1 percent of youth from the South reported being physically harassed at their schools because of their sexual orientation and gender identity By the way, this is in US. And we are in Asia. I am right now in Malaysia but originally from India. And we have something etched by the British who once had ruled us… over 250 years back, in our books of law… in an article coded 377 in India... And many British Gays and Lesbians performed public civil union ceremonies in front of friends and families… and we are yet to figure out how best not to present ourselves in public for the fear of landing behind bars, or more dangerously, being disowned by our parents and ousted from business… Well… like everything has its good side… being able to agree to “head” does have its advantages… like when you are appearing for a casting call or in a job interview at times… Oh no… not just a casting couch case… it saves so many who need it to get the few kicks from the countless white, brown and black powders and leaves… Well, there were never a dirth of aging married men whose wives have lost the libido or have developed the curves and folds that makes them preferred inside the kitchen or at kittie parties than anywhere else… or to those who suppressed the love for another man and gave themselves to the faith of another women… and money is never an issue here… And to the occasional few sex comes to boost their self esteem… the sense that they too are wanted in this world… so what no one ones to dance with them at parties, or the cuter guys at work or social gathering are just polite and smile past… And the final few who, blessed are they for they have survived the sinful world and managed to survive with a partner, uses sex as their only mean to show that they are still committed to the other. While the fresh new face they stumbled across the corridors of work or at the bar of a pub, whose political insight or casual smile at the lame jokes, and come-on-we-know-what-we-want-but-you-are-taken smile makes it so attractive that you wish the sms you sent in the afternoon from work gets you a reply, continues to breathe upon you even when you embrace the one whom the public calls your betrothed… And kamasutra designed sex in all its possible form to ignite passion an define newer means of pleasure.. and not just for the sake of it… but to bring closer two people who would truly feel the beauty of it. Maybe we are having too much sex, thats why we find so many profiles saying that they dont want people who are just looking for sex. But the point to be noted here, is that they are looking for someone who can look beyond sex. And the ones who say that they are not looking for sex, means that they are getting it and hence need something else… Hence, while you feel taken aback at the next profile you click says that sex is not a priority, do know that it is a necessity. No matter what they say… After all, asexual beings would have never created a profile. What say?

Its the cum at the end that I crave. Based on my mood and attraction on the Top, I go for long fucks. If the Top is not really making it toe-curling for me, then its all about getting his cum and move on.

Sunday at a local gay sauna. In the darkness could feel a tallish bearded toned guy. Initially we brushed past feeling each others dick. Second time when we brushed against, I was more hands on feeling his dick and chest. Nice hairy chest & armpits. He placed his hands on my butt and pulled me closer, squeezing the cheeks while we started smooching. It was clear almost immediately we were both horny enough to go spit exchange. It was yummy. We started moving towards a darker area to sneak under as I had to take him in. He was more in a hurry to join me and throw away his towel. I was already naked on my back on the floor and he threw himself on me, licking my neck and moaning "sexy, babe need u badly". I was licking his face and turned him over, and then gave my customary toe to head lick. He was swooning with pleasure as I ran my wet tongue at various sensitive spots. When I took his curved 7" cock in my mouth, the hairy pubes hit my face turning me on with the smell and his groan. I couldn't even give him a minutes blow , he just pulled me up and smooched so deep angling our faces that easily all his spit easily flowed in my throat. He was on me and I was getting restless to get fucked. I whispered him to fuck me, unload in my ass - dump his load. As soon as I said that, he got wild and pulled my legs up and just dug his tongue in my ass. Man he was eating and spitting and eating out of my ass. I couldn't control and tried to stop him but he was sucking my asshole. Another try and he got up, fixed himself in missionary position and slid his cock right in. It didn't hurt but it wasn't properly hitting my inner walls, so I started shifting to adjust. He whispered if I was hurt and I kissed him telling I am loving it. And he kissed my lips full on and started fucking. It wasn't a wild hard pumping but he was feeling my ass good. He started moaning out he loves me and I too in passion said I loved him. I could feel the dick hardening more and when he started shivering and grunting, I tried my best to loosen my inner muscles to let his semen fall in as deep as possible. Hate wasting cum dripping out of ass. He was on top of me hugging me close. He was perfectly positioned and did not pull out. After a while when his cock stopped throbbing, he slowly pulled out. Don't know what hit me, I rushed up and told him that I will clean it up for him. He probably didn't understand but then when I went down to put it in my mouth, he groaned out something I cant remember now - I was tasting his salty cum and my inside on a bit wet & slightly hard cock. I was thinking if he would be the guy whose piss I will end up drinking that day. Well, he didn't. Instead he pulled me up and kissed again, and then we hugged, kissed again and went for the showers. I saw him checking me out later after he got dressed but don't know why we didn't exchange numbers. Now that I am stroking my cock reminiscencing and writing this, I could easily figure out that he probably would be a good chem top. Alas!

Horny in KL.