Incest in zest!

 

What differentiates us, humans from animals is our ability to form relationships, define it, enjoy the benefits from it and also whine when it is turns sour. And interestingly, for us, humans, procreation is a recreational outcome of sex. Sex is as much biological cement in a relationship as dynamite and hence calls for calls for pru(dent) usage.

I had no idea that the bed room would be turned into a hunting ground that night. The lights first went out and then he waited till his roommate, sleeping in the living room, snored his way to slumberland. I was lying physically exhausted next to my friend, sharing his bed, and my body language clearly said that I was not interested. Earlier in the day, during a conversation, I had told him that I was not looking for any flings and I was taking a sex-holiday. And that night I even built a mini Himalayas between us with pillows and crossed my legs indicating my disapproval for any touch or recreational accident. But he still didn’t seem to get it.

Next morning I dragged something along with me to the restroom; it was not my growling tummy and ready-to-burst bladder, but a strange feeling of violation. While the tooth brush was busy freshening up my teeth, my mind was busy chewing the cud from the last night. My eyes were still closed, matching and processing the imagery with sensory from last night; It was so blurry that it seemed I was suffering from both myopia and hyperopia. So what happened the previous night?

Not reacting to his paws and prowls from last night and noticing my normal behavior during the day, he asked me if I recollected his kisses, a dozen times, from last night. I was not prepared for this question, though I appreciated him putting it out there for a discussion. I told him that I felt someone feeling me up and kissing me all over my face, but I wasn’t sure if I was imagining or it really happened. His incestuous smile confirmed the truth, but I told him my choice was always the same irrespective of dream or reality.

Was my mind conjuring the un-happened or did it really happen? I was unable to make that call. Since I was staying with him for only a night I didn’t want to bring up this topic and embarrass him, but nevertheless the thought of failing to respect boundaries of friendship and terms of endearment bothered me. I was his guest, his friend, but I was definitely not ready to be his friend with benefits.

What if he was my type and I trespass the blurry boundaries of friendship and scaled the walls of morality that I suddenly seem to respect and invoke? Would incest vanish then? I paused and asked myself, what kind of beings are gay men?

Why do gay men assume that friendship always comes with benefits and there are no rules when it comes to bed of pleasures? May be that is the price we pay for practicing sex for recreation? Or May be this a price for being someone’s guest and letting guards down? So should gay men be trusted?

While putting this blog together, I also recollected several “manminds” that I and my friends had been through. After I broke up with my ex we were trying to weave back our friendship and on a bus journey together, he tried to get physical with me. When I asked an acquaintance in Singapore to meet up with my closest gay friend, who just moved to Singapore, the acquaintance tried to feel him up in the movie hall.  Visiting a friend, traveling with an ex, going out with a new acquaintance for a movie or spending a night with a long known friend, why should it mean I am available for a touch, taste and toss to them?

Now do you understand how sex turns from being biological cement to dynamite in a relationship and how gay men irresponsibly use sex? This brings me to the point in discussion for this blog: Do bedrooms, acquaintances and friendships have rules of engagement and endearment? And lastly, are gay men epitomes of incest?

Manmathan Ambu (Cupid’s Arrow) on OMR – Part 2

It can be fun when it comes to defending cupid’s arrow and frustrating when none comes your way, but it can also be more fun when you send the arrows back. On the train/auto rides I have had several instances where I have been felt up by co-passengers and there have been days where I have put up the straight-face act and not ready to settle for any low hanging fruits! So, what is Manmathan thinking for the morning? Will he finally do me some good?

This morning after getting down at the station I ran towards the share auto and I was the last but one to get on the all-male ride (mela ride?). May be because I had a delayed start for the day? After settling down in my seat I checked out the guys on the either side and in front of me, none of them seem interesting. But then suddenly I spotted the Young Turk in a bright green tee-shirt and a red cap below which his smooth, soft and silky hair was hidden. He shelved his backpack on his thighs and wrapped his arms around it, while his broad shoulders where being compressed by shoulder blades of men on either side. Beauty was held between two shoulders.

Like a curious dog that turns its heads in all possible angles to capture, process and figure out the prey of interest, this morning I turned into one, indeed a salivating one. I tried to get a glimpse of his facial features, especially nose. I have heard people tell me that sharp and long nose defines keen interest in sex.  May it I should test the hypothesis on this ride?

The last time around I wanted to lift my hands and curse Dan Brown, but this time I wanted to lift my hands and bless the guys who came up with the concept of share-autos. Share-auto rides are enjoyable if you have candies sitting next to you and it turns all the more fun when they play along. Nothing can beat respect that comes with reciprocity!

I badly wanted him to remove his head gear so that I can make a go or no-go decision. And when he did I was unable to get my eyes of him. His nose was long and sharp and his eye brows looked like eye-bows sending arrows my way. The heat from the morning sun and co-passengers finally got him to remove the cap. And the heat from him was also getting to me. His thin long fingers forayed into the dense forest while his palm kissed his forehead.

I got into the same position as he did and let my fingers hang from my knees. Every now and then when the auto-guy hit on the brake my fingers kind of went down his lateral muscles. We were faster and more effective in communication than 140 characters available on Twitter. Seeing him not react to my touch in a negative way or pull himself forward I calibrated and strategized my next move.

We were not seated in an easy position to make eye contact and I think he tried a few times to turn to the left and take his eyes to the suburbs of the back seat, but it didn’t seem to help. Very soon his back came closer looking for my knees and he pressed his back hard against my knees giving me a signal. Was it a real approval and not a false alarm? I was hoping for a few more braking opportunities to make sure my analysis was on the money.

10 minutes into the ride, I set my eyes on him, made my moves and also received an agreeable response, I took a picture of him and the only thing that needed to seal the deal was to exchange numbers. But how is that possible in a crowd and when surrounded by strangers?

I was just one traffic light away from getting off from the auto. My mind was scheming to find an excuse to strike a conversation with him. I pulled out my mobile and charge stood at 1% and it could die any moment. Should I write my number on a piece of paper and shove down his hand or pocket? How would he react and how would public react?

Usually I keep cash ready so that I don’t delay the auto, but today I decided to dig into my pocket so that he gets to see me clearly and hopefully he will make the move or suddenly realized that he knows me from before.

When I thought I almost hit a jackpot, Manmath released the arrow of hesitation and reluctance at me. I got off the share-auto without leaving any trail other than the Twitter touch and his image on my phone. As the auto proceeded he turned around and look at me through the rear window, I could see a deep longing in his eyes.

I have his picture, but I have no idea where he works. But he knows where I work because I reminded the auto driver where to stop, with the hope that he would pick-up the cue, lets see if he did. May be I should have gone on the auto for longer and gotten down along with him and exchanged numbers? Well it is too late now to ponder, wonder and wander. Is Manmathan god of love or villain of love?

In the meantime when I went to work and shared this brush the fire with a friend, he recollected the scene from the movie “Alaipayuthey” where Madhavan first meets Shalini on a train journey and the following conversation he had with his friend. My friend almost convinced me that it was easy to locate someone with a green tee-shirt and was even willing to take me on his bike for man hunt down the OMR.

I had to tell him that day that life is not all about getting our desires fulfilled; and sometimes it gets boring to sleep with everyone you see. The real game begins only when you send back the Manmathan ambu or save it for another day. And this wisdom dawns only after 25 years of experience and when you stare at lust and casually hold it like a wine glass and have a conversation with it. But don’t know why this generation of EMI doesn’t seem to believe equated monthly installments when it comes to lust.

Every morning when I step out of home a quest(ion) comes along – will I meet him today or not? And maybe that is another incentive to travel by train and share auto?