Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Terres(trial) Tales



What turns a house into a home is the care and share we show(er) on the inmates and the guests. And depending on how you care for them it can either be entertaining or enterstaining! The entertainment can be over an elaborate lunch and gossip, a simple and cozy afternoon conversation with tea and some nibblers, or an intoxicating wine and delicious dinner. Food always adds to the fun, but what when you turn them into food? Enterstaining, Aha! Let us come to that a little later.

Memories can be linked to both places and people. You can have fond memories from entertaining people in your living room, garden, balcony and even in your bed room, kitchen, garage and attic, why not? But how many of you have fond memories of entertainment from your terrace? People rarely put their terrace to full use. Mothers know terrace for just one reason – drying, be it clothes or grains, Fathers are known for chasing away the kids who come up for surreptitiously smoking cigarettes, peeping into the neighborhood hives, etc. So how about using the rooftop to dry your sacks, play games with smoking hot sausages and a ho(i)sting different kind of picnic? Your immediate reaction for my roof tales is hoof hoof! Hang on for a hangover.

Why should Jack and Jill go up the hill to fetch a pail of water, why not Jack and John go up for something interesting? As soon as we excited the movie hall he asked me if we could go for a ride. It was not a riddle to solve, and I knew exactly the ride he was referring to. It has been more than 8 months since our rendezvous in the trial room and I would sacrifice anything for another try. I wrapped my arm around his shoulder that stood erect like a plank and with a smirk, I instructed him to follow my car.

My parents were home they could hear me open the front door and come into the house and this can prove costly and no fun! Should I take a chance and sneak him into my apartment and into my room or instead I take him to my terrace? This was the thought that kept crossing my mind on the drive back home.

I didn’t want to lose the opportunity, we parked the car and I took the elevator to the fourth floor. As soon as we excited the elevator I sent the elevator back to the ground. We had another floor to get to the terrace and didn’t want people to sniff that there was someone up. This was the first time I visited the terrace so late at night and it felt a little spooky. The neighborhood was dead and dark and so was the terrace. I was a little nervous and at the same time excited. I identified our play area and quickly came back to see how lit/dark it was from the terrace door. I was trying to see what would be visible if we got busted. It was pitch black and so was lust. My terrace was any day better than stuffing ourselves in the uncomfortable car parked in the dark portion of the road. No way!

There was dense tree cover on the northern side of the apartment, an apartment terrace one story shorter than ours to the East, a big wall on the southern side that turned into a shield, while the western side was open to another terrace. Hopefully there was none there! For some it is the precarious place that gives the thrill, for some it is the priceless catch that gives the thrill, for me this was a double bonanza.

A tight hug and an indelible kiss from him started the foreplay. He for sure wanted to quench the unquenched thirst from the trial room. While our lips locked, his hands clutched my butt without much effort, and when I finally got to his I found lot more room in my hands. Will it be the same with other things? You got to wait!

From his butt I proceeded straight to his hips and the love handles were right and great, neither too skinny nor to flabby. The hold and the squeeze gave my hands and fingers a good massage. Another round of deep French kiss (I have a degree from Paris) followed before my attention drifted towards the hissing one eyed snake in his pants. I paused for a few seconds while he removed my shirt and without much thought I returned the favor.

I held his bare chest from the behind and it felt like holding heaven in my hands. I pressed his back against my chest, while my cock comfortably fitted in his butt groove. While ride up and down, I held his navel with my left hand and caressed his smooth chest with my right hand. While the tip of my fingers set his nipples on fire, his abdominal muscles tossed and turned as though they were tossed in that fire.

In a few minutes those milliliters of hormones in his body set me on blaze. And my only duty was to stoke the fire and keep it alive. Now I had to change my hands and try newer tricks. I slapped his butt cheeks and enjoyed the echo come back. Then I took my right hand below his navel and rubbed that rubbery dick with my palms going all the way from my inner wrist to the tip of my index finger, while my left hand was playing with his right nipple. And I finally discovered that I was ambidextrous! This was a perfect pose and there was no escape for this man. We tried various poses while holding to each other’s hoses.

Since this was the first major encounter after the trial room quickie, I didn’t know his likes and fetishes. With no baggage or expectations we turned the rooftop into Discovery channel and Animal Planet. We took a few minutes to receive each other reactions and take the foreplay a notch up rather than keeping it a one sided play. He went crazy when my lips touched his nipples and when I bit them he wiggled in pleasure and not in pain.

With fire raging between his legs, he quickly turned around and freed me from my denim pants and jockey underwear. Soon the terrace was littered with branded clothes and innerwear. We were drying our clothes and if we were busted that was a good excuse. The cool March breeze supplied more oxygen to the fire raging between our legs.

He sat in a supplicating position with his head perfectly positioned between my legs, and his hands squeezing my butt and pushing it forward. I moaned at the moonless sky, while the stud’s lips perfectly sealed and silenced my dick like a gasket in a pressure vessel. I moved my hips back and forth and the saliva in his mouth made is a frictionless float against gravity.

If everything goes right, pleasure is derived by both host and the guest in any entertainment. Half the pleasure is derived from seeing the other person enjoy while you work on him, while the other half comes from what he does to you. I couldn’t hold myself from not enjoying the pleasure of performing. I laid the sizzling meat on the cool red tile and went sniffing and licking his body. And finally I went for the meat between his pelvic bones.

Unlike when I held his butt with my hands, this time my hand was overflowing with meat. I filled my mouth with a sumptuous feed and feeling the lust filled veins and nerves running along the length dick made the experience wilder. I pushed his foreskin back and rolled my tongue over jollypop and at times I tickled the little hole with the tip of my tongue.

The toss and the turn made it look like a barbecue on the roof. And finally after the incessant sucking the Linga emerged from my mouth. Without any notice it erupted like a volcano, squirting the warm potion all over the red tiles. A few drops of it fell on my chest. I accepted the prasad and held on to the Linga with faith and reverence in same way Margandeya held on it, but I had no boon to ask. He held me with the same passion we began the night and started going between my legs until mine went through the same self ablution ritual. We stayed on the floor for a few minutes, holding each others hands and replaying the highlights of the post midnight masala before we dressed up. Like the perfect host I escorted him to the gate and waved till his car disappeared at the end of the street.

I have had such enterstainment inside the house, in saunas and public loos, but what made this one memorable was the hormonal rush on roof top and respectful reciprocation. Repeat sex is never boring as long as there is reciprocation and new places always adds spice to the engagment. Beat your neighbors before they read this and discover their passion on the terrace. Make those fond(led) memories for your memoirs special.
I found this You Tube video that was close enough to what transpired and prespired that night on the terrace - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pqYJDhjIO0A

Here are some goofy roof top recipes:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1aodpb3vFU0

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hq3SAqVPzXI

http://jallen285.blogspot.com/2010/01/tourist-caught-having-sex-on-roof.html

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v2F9p2K6hCI




Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Laissez-(af)faire!!


One of my chat friends asked me this morning about my love life. For many is it either a quest or a question mark. For me it doesn’t exist among mortals. After two 3 year relationships, a 3 year cooling period in between them, countless hook-ups in the name of coffee dates and catch, the word “love life” turned to an oxymoron without any doubt or deliberation.

Love life - an oxymoron!

From New York to New Zealand, everybody across the world is looking for love; there is nothing wrong about it. But almost all of us find sex that morphs as love, fuck buddies who morph as companions and quickies that morph as relationships. The result is a lot of disappointment and a long wait with hope. Wait for whom? Disappointment for what? My two boyfriends (committed and during our relationship) slept around with no guilt, so why should I deal with disappointment and wait with hope for the non-existent? It took a while for the blub to glow, but when it did, I stopped looking and accepting sex that comes as love, fuck buddies who pretend as partners and conveniently replaced love life with sex life. Yes, sex and life is real though it may rile a few.

Why question it when you just need to quench it?

Watch all that happens in the animal kingdom where sex is just another form of hunger. The animals play territorial games, establish their superiority, engage in mating games and move on. It is a truly “No Strings Attached” world. There is no emotional attachment, tears are unknown, heartbreaks are unheard, sex is never intellectualized or hyped, yet they peacefully live in groups, procreate, enjoy the world and care for each other. Yes happiness comes with freedom. And to them freedom is polygamy and not ploygamy.

Sex as a Service (SAS)

A foreigner who recently visited India told me that most gay Indian men claim to be bi-sexual even if they slept only with their wives. He also said that a lot of gay men also sleep around their boyfriends back. Both sets of men are honest and to them sex and life goes together and they satisfy their sense of hunger not the sense of belonging or security. So replace the legacy systems that come with high cost of maintenance and modernization with sex as a service (SAS) and enjoy the cloud model of relationships.

Married but available!

After meeting and dating single gay men who don’t know the difference between love and sex, life and hook-ups, I decided to meet married men to see if they were any better. When I say married, these can be either gay men with partners, bi-sexual men with wives or gay but married ones. Why discount and dissect them? Women would call me a “husband stealer” or the gay world would call me a “boyfriend moocher”, but who cares when sex comes without any disease or attachment.

Hook-ups without hiccups

Men in relationships are grounded, they give you all the freedom and space you desire and come together with a purpose but with no intention to posses or control. They have family to care but still find time, be it before work, during lunch time or after work to accommodate you. There are equally safe to protect their nest egg, while that saves us from gay drama, heartbreaks and keeping ourselves open to unlimited and never-ending fun. These are hook-ups without hiccups!

Enjoy the Laissez-faire

Turn to SAS and enjoy the care that comes without captivity, the freedom that comes without fear, and the love that comes with convenience to engage and disengage. Leave it to them to protect their marriage and family, enjoy that sex that comes without responsibility. The world may call it an affair, but to me it is Laissez-faire. What is life without freedom?

Sow your wild oats!

For people who often misunderstood sex for love and quickies for partnership, stop wasting time putting the L-word together. You may be duped and dumped, it is the “m” in between that makes you go from feeling cheated to feeling horrible. It is you who can turn that “M” as “Yum. Grab the opportunity to experience something wild and wholesome. So(w) your wild oats!

Seasons without reasons

Flush the past (it floats and smells), cherish the present without attachments, and enjoy the sex (don’t discriminate them based on their preference or marital status). One size doesn’t fit all and that is why we come in all shapes and sizes! Life is a shopping experience, you will never find everything in one store, learn to shop around. Wear men like clothes and jewellery, they may come and go with season, but they make you fashionable. So keep up with the world of fashion world and enjoy the seasons without any reasons.