If you are under 18 years old, living in a country where gay sex is prohibited, or offended by gay sex then please leave this site immediately. Also, there will be i[ń]cest themes in some stories. Definitely not safe for work. Comments are welcome. Inform me if you own some of the pictures I will upload here and you want them removed Contact me at jockwonderlust@hotmail.com or twit me at @jwl_writerPH.

REMINDER: The world of fiction where the characters of my blog reside is void of the realities of HIV and STI. In the real world where we live in, HIV and STIs exist. This blog is merely an escape from that world, so that I can release my subconscious, which is full of crazy and messy sex fantasies. The scenes in these stories should never be recreated in real life. Guys, never ever attempt barebacking (if not using PrEP), rape or other unsafe sex acts. SECURE CONSENT. USE CONDOMS. GET TESTED. EDUCATE YOURSELF.

Saturday, December 12, 2015

February Part 1


Follow the guest writer @miggy1988 on twitter

February 17 and it’s 3am in the morning… lying awake on my bed, staring in the thick, blank darkness of the night. One, two, three and a few teardrops more. My mind’s lost, I couldn’t think clear. I was in pain as if a knife were cutting deep through my chest as I reminisced what happened… in a matter of 2 weeks. 

February 3, and the sun had set to let the moon shine the night. I was in front of my computer, swiping right, swiping left, trying to find a match on Tinder when my phone rang. It’s Jesse. A yuppy from Eastwood asking me for a friendly date. I declined. It was too far.  

I swiped again, left, right, left, right and voila! I and an FEU student matched. His name was Carl. Handsome, smart extrovert from the School of Arts and Sciences. We exchanged a few messages in less than an hour. Traded our best pictures and sparked further interest with each other. He gave his number and told me he’d log off and asked me to text him. I did. I sent a message. Again, my phone rang. He’s inviting me for a dinner in Espana. I said yes but I had this gut feeling I shouldn’t go, but did. I drew my best tank top from my cabinet and wore it. In my mind I was talking to myself. I wanted to look great.  

I left Makati and arrived in the venue after an hour or so. We were on the opposite side of the road. I was still suspicious as he could be a poser. He called over the phone and told me he’d go where I was. I walked towards the overpass and as I made my way through the crowd I saw him… meters away from me I saw his eyes, I was immediately captivated.  

My heart throbbed, I felt my skin sweating. As he drew near me, my heart throbbed harder, beating faster than the normal. I felt my skin getting cooler as the sweat ran down from my forehead… He walked past me. I didn’t call his name. He was looking in his phone, waiting for my reply. 

I knew there was something. I thought it was love at first sight… I followed him as he throttled to where I was supposed to be but he found no one. I called his name and his voice made me even fall harder for him. His voice was deep for a short guy like him. It was manly enough to mask the feminine in him. It was deep enough to make someone believe he was straight. He was discreet enough to fool a queer’s eye. 

We talked and decided to visit his place first before we ate dinner. We reached the place. He sat on his bed, I did the same. We talked and came to know each other more. It was not until midnight when we both expressed this immense attraction that we hid the moment our eyes met in Espana. I looked at his lips when he talked, he did the same during my turn. Slowly I touched his cheeks, luring him to get closer so we could kiss. Gently he placed his soft, red lips upon mine. 

Then came midnight and we felt this particular urge… I took off my clothes as he playfully kissed my chest and licked his way to the core of my bliss. We didn’t care about reality. It seemed the world stood still as I savored every tickling caresses he gave to my manhood. And before the moon hit the peak of the night, the moment of pleasure that we so craved for had its ecstatic ending. He watched me as he smiled with sheer blend of lust and desire for more. 

We ate dinner nearby and spent the night in his room. I went home to Makati in the morning and saw him again that night. I took him in our apartment, ate dinner, and he slept with me.  

I was the happiest man on earth that day. Blindly, deeply, rapturously in love with the man of my dreams. It was euphoric by just looking as he slept; as he breathed the cold air in our room; by feeling his heartbeat when I hugged his warm body. 

The morning came and I cooked breakfast for him. I served him like a royal monarch of a kingdom. We felt the same urge that we felt last night. We made love. Indeed it was love. He caressed me like a King and as we prepared for a romantic warfare, he groped and held my manhood just as a soldier would hold a mighty sword from its tight sheathe. He tickled my masculinity and stroked it to the peak of my pleasure and long before I came, He invited me to wander around the kingdom of his soul and dared me to break his walls with the strength of my love… and I did. It was a bloody combat between genuine love and mere lust. It was a triumphant conquest. We were in love and even promised that we wouldn’t let go. 

We watched “That thing called tadhana” and held hands throughout the run of the film. Believe me, I was at my happiest state that I could ever remember. I asked him if he had been to Baguio, he said no. I thought of taking him there by surprise since he said he wasn’t sure if he could go with me to Cebu and Bohol a month after that day.  

We made promises. He assured that he wouldn’t date anyone and I vowed the same. For me, going from Laguna to Espana is not an issue at all whenever we’d go out for a dinner. I lived in Makati but I permanently stayed that time in Laguna as I recently resigned from my job. 

Then came Valentine’s day. I was excited to surprise him though he told me days before that he’d be with his friends for a prior commitment. The whole day passed and he never spoke with me nor even sent a message. Sunday, I was crying already as I worried about what happened to him. I talked to his friends and they told me they had just had a short chat with Carl. I asked them to help me out. I told them I was courting their friend and they were willing to help out. I wrote a poem and bought chocolates (FlatTops because Carl’s friends asked me it’d be sweet and cute to give him that kind and his favorite drink – Zesto) 

Monday, February 16, I went to Espana at Lunch time, met his friends and gave the gifts. I went home but never received any reply that afternoon. I was, again, crying as I felt there was something wrong. I texted Carl before sun set, I was surprised he replied. However, the message said, “Sorry, Sorry, itigil na natin 'to.” 

Immediately I told him I’d see him in Espana that night. He skipped an exam when I arrived. My heart throbbed and was beating faster as I waited for him. When I saw him drawing nearer, I wanted to cry over the promises that wouldn’t even last for a month. I wanted to cry as the moments we shared would just be ended by a simple text message. I wanted to blame myself for doing less though I thought it was enough for him to see that I loved him. We talked and I noticed he was looking at passersby as if here were being cautious. He was afraid to be caught talking with a teary-eyed guy. We went to a nearby restaurant so we could talk in private.  

At first I couldn’t believe it was too easy for him to end everything. I explained my side and asked him where I fell short of. He didn’t blame me. He blamed himself instead. He did admit everything in front of me that he never really liked me; that everything he showed was fake, he was never in love with me at all and was just pretending. He told me he was exploring and he just used me. He told me he went out with a guy and had sex in Baguio on Valentine’s day-the same day when I was crying my heart out as I missed him. That day, he was caressing someone else when I was weeping. He was having fun when I felt there was something wrong with me. He was moaning in heavenly pleasure while I was hurting in debilitating silence. 

I was hurt. Deeply hurting as he told me everything. I slapped him without hesitation and walked out of the venue. I realized I had a bottle of water with me. I went back, saw him crying and that one teardrop that ran down his cheek made me falter but at the bottom of my suppressed anger, I doused him. 

I went home and received a message from him saying he was thankful and told me to stay safe on my way. His friends ranted at me thru text. I explained everything but they defended their friend. I did admit I was at fault and went beyond the borders for slapping and dousing him. Still, his friends cursed me that night. 

I felt the weight inside. I couldn’t cry, partly because I had gotten even. As midnight passed, I didn’t welcome February 17 with a victory. I was still awake, lying on my bed… staring on the thickest of the darkness in our room, contemplating what went wrong. Then my tears started running down and cried myself to sleep. 

I woke up with only 2 hours of sleep, prepped up and went directly to ortigas for a whole day appointment. I was feeling empty. I felt my soul was deprived of vigor. I couldn’t think straight. As I attended the session, I’d remember everything he said last night. I’d suddenly feel I would cry but I had to be strong otherwise I would look insane in the event with more than a hundred people. I went to the bathroom and tried to cry. I failed. Not one tear dropped. Insane thoughts started running through my clouded mind. Whenever I would close my eyes, I’d see myself jumping off the window; taking my own life. It was weird and crazy. I know it was suicide. Solace was nowhere to be found as the memories invoked pain and dampen my frail spirit.  

I went home and took the bus. The guy sitting next to me had to transfer seat as he felt a bit uncomfortable when I broke down in tears. I got home at 6pm and everything started to sink in deeper. I couldn’t stop crying. I was sobbing hard and loud, feeling alone, helpless and stupid. I called my friends and loved ones, they couldn’t do anything. I was on the edge of suicide as I contemplate stabbing my pulse or my neck and bathe in my own blood. My parents called, I told them everything. It was the first time I confessed that I was in love with a guy. With an open heart, my father told me not to cry over him as he never deserved it. He further comforted me saying that, “May mas higit pang darating sayo. Wag mo nang iyakan yun. Di iniiyakan ang mga taong tulad nun.” My mother did the same. She offered comforting words as she heard her son tell his heartbreak story. She told me, “Ganyan talaga, Hindi ka talaga matututo kung di ka masasaktan.”. The pain I felt was slashed in half after receiving support from my family…

1 comment:

  1. I knew he shared a portion of his life's story here but it's only now that I have the chance to read it. Oh my! I suddenly miss Miggy1988. Anyway, I wish he has a great life outside alter.

    ReplyDelete