You
know that thing they say about men with big feet? I have reasons not to
believe in it. I have small feet, or perhaps it doesn’t apply to me…
I’m the exemption… I don’t know. Here’s what I know though. The
length of your forearm—from elbow to wrist—is your shoe size. So if you
believe that thing they say about big feet, you just have to check out the
forearm.
Then, there’s this other thing I read somewhere, from long ago. I
read that the size and shape of the men’s nose is proportion to their
thing between their legs. You wonder? It was explained that if you see a
man, imagine his nose as a cock, with the bridge as the shaft, and the nose
itself as the head—staying faithful to the size and shape. What you
imagined would be stunningly correct. I have reason to believe so…
Of course, there’s always an exemption to the rule…
But then does size matter?
Whenever
I’m at the café I can’t help but do MIRC and Yahoo Messenger. Cruising,
hoping I’d get lucky. And I did got lucky with Chad, giving me the best
fuck in my life—too bad it didn’t work out. He doesn’t want it to work
out. This may sound sour coming from me but I mean this, Good For Him.
I did got lucky once. Dennis and Bj have no idea who Chad is and he
lives within Pasig City.
Here
is the low down. I have gone to meet with three guys from the chatroom since
I started hanging out at the café. All of them turned out to know either Bj
and Dennis or both. Whenever I get to chat with someone who I think is cute
and is within the city of Pasig, there is a ninety percent chance that
Dennis or Bj have slept with him already.
You
think this is funny?
If
I had swore, which I almost did before, not to sleep with anyone whom Dennis
have slept with, I would have to sleep with women or go out of the city. Out
of the city? Dennis current boyfriend, Tiger Look, is from Quezon City.
I
almost did swear… remember when I met Bj? Fam was joking that the reason
Dennis, who was Bj’s ex-boyfriend, wasn’t in that day was because he was
out with Bj’s boyfriend? I almost swear as I thought it was like a
merry-go-round thing… Good thing I didn’t.
Well,
I shouldn’t. Why should I? It’s the past. It would be unreasonable if
I’d refuse to sleep with someone just because he slept with one of my
friends before. But I just couldn’t help but be bothered by it.
I
think it is insecurity kicking in me. I always have this mentality that they
would talk about it and not able to measure up. This even if I am fully
aware that Bj and Dennis are not as half as open to talking about their sex
life, even in an intellectual level.
There’s
the clubs. Red Banana and Bath over at Malate… I have been wanting to do
Fahrenheit for the longest time. Well, I have heard a lot about the place. I
heard it’s a lot nastier than either of the two clubs. And a lot
convenient to go to since it’s only over Cubao.
The thing is that to what I heard and verified, through their webpage,
the club requires membership to be admitted.
And according to webpage, it’s not a club, club like Red Banana or
Bath. It’s a bathhouse. First, I thought it was a fitness gym something,
but no. It’s a sleazy bathhouse. Uptown maybe, so Roman of them, but
still, it’s sleazy. They require you to be bare upon entry to the joint.
You are to shed all you clothes and walk in just with towels. I don’t know
if I could do that.
I
don’t think I’m that gay…
Of
course, there’s Carlo. Carlo who lives at the next village from mine, less
than five minutes tricycle ride… whatever happened to us?
It was the second time we saw each other and shag, when he told me
that he thought what we have is good. He thought it was good because it was
without fuss—we see each other only to shag and share smoke. We are just
plain good ole fuck buddies. He was the one who defined the relationship as
that. I prefer not to define it but I was fine with it. And things were fine
between the two of us.
Then,
a certain Brix came into the picture. Brix is another of my textmate who
happens to live at the same village Carlo lives in. Carlo got the number and
started meeting behind my back—Carlo didn’t tell me so. Not that I mind
or require of him to, we are just plain fuck buddies. I found this out from
Brix when he insisted for us to meet. And that he told me that they have
been meeting but they don’t do anything. They just talk. They just talk,
not even about naughty stuffs but plain conversation.
They
just talk. I don’t know, call me crazy but with that—just talk—it
struck me as Carlo is taking it slow with him. And if one decides to take
the relationship slow, it could be assume that it’s serious. I backed
off…
Actually,
I didn’t just back off but decided to give Brix some tips. Well, Brix
isn’t much thrilled in just talking. A man, may he be gay or what, could
only have so much talk. I decided to give him some helpful tip to bring
their relationship a step higher—sexual. I advised him to make the first
move—start with naughty joke over text messaging. He did mentioned not
even naughty text messages—just plain talk like they haven’t heard of
the invention called television. I even told him where we, Carlo and I do
it—at the backyard where it’s dark. After that, I backed off. I didn’t
want to as Carlo is one hell of a good kisser but I need to back off to make
a clear way for them.
Well,
Carlo is serious with him, I assumed… and I am a distraction. He may have
thought I am a good distraction but still a distraction.
We
are midway December already. He again is now texting me—just texting. I
asked him if he wanted me to come over but whenever, he shuts me off by not
replying. But then messages me again the next night. I don’t know what
kind of game he is playing but I am willing to play…
At
one episode of “Sex and the City”, about two-three seasons before the
last, Samantha meet a man who warned her that he got one really huge tool.
He warned her and not being such a big prick. Because he does and had women
dump him because of it. Samantha explained it was so uncomfortable. It was
like being hit by a wall over and over.
So size does matter…?
Well, big is not always better.
Of course, I don’t want them freaky tiny but the sight of a tool,
may it be big or small, is also not something that arouses me. You could
walk around me naked and I would just laugh. Now if you are a good kisser,
boy, you could have me anyway you want me.
