Wednesday, August 22, 2007

Hookerville pt. 2

I forgot what the bar was called. It was probably a word derived from gay lingo. Outside, there were five hunky—and surprisingly good-looking—men who look like the security guards. I actually liked one of them. Then I noticed he was wearing an extremely small shirt—a muscle shirt. So I figured he might not be part of security after all.

We were greeted by more hunky guys on our way in. They were very courteous that I almost forgot I was entering a bar along Hookerville Avenue. We sat in front of the stage, where the men were supposed to perform. The show hasn’t started yet. A few minutes later, a bunch of guys came over, including the cute one at the parking area. Their ‘manager’ whose name was Pokie introduced each of his ‘talent’ to us. He had a nickname for each guy. Some were dancers. Some were ‘actors’. Some have no talent other than humping a rich gay’s ass.

Queen Bee picked the ugliest one, describing him as the hottest guy in the group. His taste has obviously been westernized. Usually, we would prefer fair-skinned guys, the ones who look like Brad Pitt or Ethan Hawke. Westerners on the other hand like the ‘exotic’ ones. So I guess you know what the guy looked like.

The show started with a group of drag queens dressed in funky costumes, mimicking the Spice Girls in their 1998 Video Music Awards performance. A few more impersonations were presented before the main feature of night. It started with the lights out and some sexy diva song playing. Then came out the sexy men--dressed up like blue collar workers. They’re hot. Filthy. Sweaty. They’re ready to screw with us. But wait, there’s a catch. None of them are really attractive, at least according to my dictionary.

The show lasted for about an hour. The Queen decided to thrown some money into the manager’s plate and rent a private room for the rest of the night.

‘What are we gonna need a private room for? They’re naked right in front of us?’ I asked.
‘You don’t get it do you? It’s a private room. PRIVATE. You know what that means?’

By ‘private’, he meant everything can be done BY the boys and TO the boys. The lesbians backed out because they weren’t too excited to see cocks swinging around the Queen’s happy face. They went home after he paid for the room. I was forced to stay with the Queen and another friend, who was also curious as to what happens behind the closed doors of the bar.

I was surprised that there were three men who joined us. Earlier, there was only one guy sitting with the Queen, caressing his hips while he touches his dick. When I got into the room, there were three men, this time in their underwear, dancing around the Queen.

‘You!’ He pointed to the guy with the big arms. ‘Stay with him. He needs to loosen up tonight.’
‘Oh no, geez no. I’m...I’m alright.’

But before I could run away, the guy, whose name was Leo, closed the door behind me and locked it. He gave me a seductive look and held my hand and pulled me to the sofa.

‘Do you want anything to drink.’
‘Ah yeah, if you have a margarita that would be fine.’
He giggled. ‘Margarita? You’re not in a straight bar.’
‘Right, I figured. So what’s safe to drink?’
‘When I asked you what you wanna have I asked what brand of beer you prefer.’
‘Oh, San Mig light please.’

I was shocked that these guys had some sense of humor. I thought it was all suck and fuck. The more I talked to Leo, the more I learned about their job and how difficult it is.

‘I’m lucky to be with you tonight.’
‘Oh yeah? Is that your script or spiel or what do you call it?’
‘Haha! You’re mean. I don’t tell each customer that I’m lucky to be with them.’
‘Yeah, I bet you just tell maybe 80% of them.’

What’s going on here? Earlier, I almost despised these guys—though I acknowledged the fact that they have undeniably hot bodies. Now I’m actually having a conversation with one of them. The one who just fell on his back while attempting to do a back flip with boots and a jockstrap on.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, someone was already moaning. The queen was administering fellatio on Mr. Reptile. Mika, my other friend who stayed, was kissing the cute guy.

‘Looks like we’re the only ones left idle in this room.’
‘Uhm, Why don’t you go get me more beer.’
‘Now? You’re not done with that one yet!’ He pointed to my bottle which was half-full.
‘Well, it’s not cold anymore.’

‘ You see, prices are tripled when you rent a private room.’
‘Oh yeah?’
‘Aren’t you supposed to NOT tell me that.’
‘Haha, yeah.’

The moaning continued and this time, it seemed like someone’s about to cum. I couldn’t figure out if it was Mika’s guy or the Queen’s male whore. Leo was blocking my view and all I could see was an arm waving in excitement as his dick dives into somebody’s throat. He moaned some more. I heard more moaning. A scream. More moaning.

‘You like that?’ The Queen finally spoke.
‘Yeah, do it again.’

While they talked about how the whore wants him to do it—going in circles while playing with his tongue around the shaft of his dick—I still hear someone moaning. Apparently, Mika was getting a blowjob from the cute guy.

‘Holy shit.’
‘Mika’s getting a blowjob from that guy. Shit. The lesbians should have stayed a little longer!’
‘Oh right.’
‘I didn’t know you guys do that too.’
‘Well, it’s a private room. We can do whatever you want us to do.’
‘Oh, did you want... here...’

He knelt before me and tried to open my zipper. I refused saying I don’t want him to do me in front of my friends. Suddenly, we were engaged in a tug-of-war of my zipper.

‘Well, we could do it in the bathroom...’
‘Look...pal. Listen...okay?’
‘I just—I just came here because they forced me to. I have no money to pay you... I-I really have to intention of--?
‘What’s wrong? You afraid someone’s gonna know about this?’
‘No but..’
‘Baby, you need to relax! You need to loosen up. Besides, the rooms paid, we’re already paid so why don’t we just sit here, I’ll help you relax baby and... ’

‘Don’t call me baby.’
‘Nobody’s looking. Nobody’s gonna tell. Nobody knows we’re here.’
“Hushhhh.... relax. We’re alone. Trust me. It’s just you...’

He drew closer and closer... He pushed his forehead against mine and whispered,

‘...and ME.’

Sunday, August 19, 2007

Celeb I wanna bed: Ryan Reynolds


Tell me what you think of the new layout. Scroll down for more.

Friday, August 17, 2007

Hookerville pt. 1

There's someone at work whom we call the Queen Bee. He is THE bee-otch who, after moving back to the Philippines, have discovered that he can be out and about and still be accepted by his friends. He is 40-45 years old, single and gay, and currently has four boyfriends from two continents, four cities.

We did not become close until we both fantasized about this hot guy at work who one day got drunk and allowed me, the Queen and another discreet gay guy to devour him in a straight bar, while the straight girls were watching.

It was then that we sort of became friends. We became even closer when we were assigned to do a special project. We stayed in an apartment with three lesbians and two other gays. The Queen is not flamboyant, but effeminate. I am a bit effeminate but more stiff. The other is a transvestite virgin.

One time, we talked about life of gay men and how our love lives were. Apparently, the Queen has been getting his boyfriends from Hookerville, giving them allowances, clothes, cell phone credits, and more all to have the illusion that he is in love with a partner and the hoping that the male whore would love him back.

'Why don't you have a boyfriend?' He asked me.
'I just choose to be single. Or maybe it's because I',m just not out there.'
'Look at me, I have four boyfriends and I'm loving it.'
'Hunny, I'm too damn poor to maintain four boyfriends and besides, who needs four?'
'I do.'

Sometimes, I can't stand him. He always talks about his boyfriend leaving his girlfriend AND wife for him and 'how much they both love each other.' In my mind, he was like a director, choreographing every move in their relationship while pulling some dough out of his thick wallet.

Paying for sex isn't really appealing to me. For one, I think that the ones who need to pay for sex are the ones who lived in the Queen's generation: the deprived ones who never got the taste of fresh, young dicks and oozing washboard abs at the gym because they lived at the time of bigotry and homophobia. And they're now desperately trying to catch up.

So with that, I understood the Queen's need to shell out as much cash as he can, just to be with someone. For with that, he feels secure and happy.


One Friday night, he asked us out for some wild night of entertainment in a gay bar. I refused at first, saying I've never been to one and that I'm too shy to get inside, fearing that other people might see me. Eventually, with stronger persuasion from the lesbian community, I decided to go and loosen up a bit.

+to be continued+

Wednesday, August 15, 2007


I thought I should take a break for a while and let you guys have more time reading the contents of my humble blog. It's been two months since I moved to Blogspot last 11 June '07 and I was surprised with the outcome of my bold move. You see, I've been very, VERY comfortable with my previous webhost. Some of my regular readers even said the old layout is simpler and better that what I have today.

But sometimes, change is healthy. I'm glad it gave me good results. It ain't a huge improvement but I'm happy to see a growth in hits and regular readers since I moved. To date--according to CBox, 3000+ have read or at least visited this site.

Thank you to those who've been making Lows, Highs and ALibis their daily read. Please keep those comments coming. I will try my best to provide better content in the coming weeks.

Friday, August 3, 2007

Someone’s knocking at half past midnight

It started out as a joke. And because Augustus and I weren’t really close friends, I just assumed that there wasn’t a single ounce of seriousness in his words. A few minutes before telling him of my plans to move out of my apartment, thanks to my wicked landlady, he offered his place for free. Since I needed a shelter and I had no time to be picky, I agreed on one condition: I would still pay him a certain amount for rent.

We agreed on a certain price. He would often boast that that amount would be not enough for all the amenities that will be available to me once I move in. I would be staying in my own room. There’s a clean bathroom. I can wash my clothes with his washing machine. I can store food in his refrigerator. I can cook food with his stove anytime I want. It was a pretty good deal. I was happy...

I was happy until I found out the truth behind the offer which was to-good-to-be-true. One night, he confessed his love for me. He said that he knows he is not my type but would like his kindness to be reciprocated by my showing him some form of kindness as well.

And I did show him genuine kindness. This was until he started messing with my life. He just acted as if we were living together. He started meddling with my affairs, asking me to do the laundry at home instead of bringing it to the Laundromat. He also started cooking food so I won’t leave the house anymore.

The next thing I know, I was trying to avoid what I used to call my new home. Instead of having a place to rest, I always locked myself in my room, pretending not to hear whatever it is he’s trying to tell me while he’s watching TV or doing stuff outside.

I started to worry when he told his friends that we were ‘living together’. You see, when you say Kai and I ‘LIVE TOGETHER’, it tells you that we are in a relationship. It is more appropriate to say that we are sharing an apartment in order for people not to think of the former.

It didn’t end there. When he’s at work, I would receive calls on his landline phone. Most of the time, I wouldn’t answer. I did maybe a couple of times. It was always his friend who called. It’s bizarre that he always calls at a certain time when he knows Augustus is still at work. He would try to start a conversation with me but I make it a point to sound not-so-interested and hung up immediately.

Later, I found out that he’s been telling people that he’s living with someone and that if they want proof, they can call his number.

One time, I finally used his washing machine to wash my clothes. He offered to wash them for me but of course, I declined the offer. As I was putting water into the machine, he asked what time I would be done with the laundry.

‘An hour tops. Why? You doing laundry today?
‘No, coz my friends will drop by today.’

No shit. Of course, his friends would arrive and see me washing clothes, a bigger proof that he is indeed living with his supposed boyfriend. I threw the water away and told him I changed my mind.

He was also, well, sweet. When I say I want ice cream, he would buy two gallons the next day. When I say I want donuts, two dozens of yummy donuts would magically appear on our dining table. When I say I want a DVD of a certain movie, he would buy it for me without ever asking me to pay for it.

I started to freak out when I arrived from work one day and was surprised to see WHITE ROSES at my door. There was a card that says ‘I love you Kai’. That freaked the hell out of me. I called my friends and asked what I should do. When he arrived, I told him thanks, but no thanks because I am allergic to flowers. I have asthma but it wasn’t as severe as I described it. My little white lie caused him to be a bit cold for the next few days.

What convinced me to leave his apartment was the incident that happened at half past midnight. We were watching ‘Queer As Folk’ before I headed to my room. The last scene I saw was Brian Kinney fucking Justin in his fabulous loft. The scenes were hot and Augustus was definitely getting excited. I left when he started throwing a dirty look at me.

Moments later, I was lying on my bed and my cell phone began vibrating. Upon checking, I saw 10 messages were received within the last five minutes. They were all from him.

‘Kai, I want you tonight’
'Kai, give me your body.’
Kai, I am obsessed with your body
‘Let me eat you tonight, you won’t have to do a thing.’

It scared the shit out of me. I ignored the messages but it didn’t stop. Aside from five more messages within the next ten minutes, he also attempted to call about seven times. When I obviously ignored his pathetic attempts to bed me, he decided to do an act of desperation.
He knocked on my door, begging to suck my cock.

‘Kai, please, I want it. I need it. Please!’

I was shaking inside my room. What have I gotten myself into? I decided to let this poor creature offer his place so he can fulfil his fantasies? Why have I become such a fool! I didn’t have a clue he was a psychotic maniac who’s been wanting to give me a blowjob I never wished for.

The next day, I told him I’m leaving the apartment. He apologised for his actions but I told him he didn’t have to because I’m leaving no matter what. He tried to stop me, saying he just signed a renewal of contract with the landlady so we cannot take anything out of the apartment until the lease has been finalized. HE was obviously bluffing. So as soon as he left, I packed my stuff and left.

True enough, the maniac was lying! I passed by three guard posts and they never said a single thing despite seeing me bring one folded mattress, an electric fan, three large bags, a few clothes on hangers, and some other stuff.

Make no mistake, I am not hot. I just got ‘lucky’ someone obsessed over me.