Sex: Recreation vs Procreation

As gays we look at sex as an act of recreation than procreation. We’ve all experience many one night stands, kinks, hidden sexual agenda, our happy endings are sometimes sad and finally we also clean, fill and flit (if not in the same order). Have you ever wondered where did we pick up these traits from?

Don’t forget we‘ve all come a long way from the animal kingdom and evolution has brought us to another kingdom where rules of the game are every different. And our shared past often makes us look at the animal kingdom to see if there is a leaf or two to borrow. Let’s see if sex becomes easier handled as an act of recreation rather than an act of procreation?

Sex is a currency:

Sexual currency is often traded in primate kingdom for social purposes. Isn’t that very similar to the gay world? It is used to buy security, peace, happiness and avoid conflicts. Absolutely there is no procreational purpose for some copulations.

Coming back to the land of primates, louder the female call the more excited males become. Noisy females ensure best genes are transferred to the next generation. The chance of a less-noisy female getting pregnant is low. Absence of noise can also mean the copulation was for social purpose more than procreation. So do filled vessels that make more noise in the primate world?

One night stand:

Female German Roaches mate just once, stock up sperm and lay eggs when they want rather than looking around for mates. Save up for the rainy days, huh? How interesting it should be to just mate once and say good-bye! Though sex is procreational, among roaches there is no emotional attachment. It is a no-strings attached copulation. Now you know where we learnt our one night stands from!

Chastity lock:

Among Stick insects, males copulate and stick to the females (chastity lock) to prevent other males from mating, until she gets to lay her eggs. Now you know how Italian cities, including Florence, Milan, Rome, and Venice came up with the concept of chastity lock in the 12-13 century!

Some happy endings are really sad!

Among Lady bugs, mating happens just once and the male bug dies at the end of act. It appears as though their birth objective is to mate and die. The female drags the dead male around and dumps him before laying her eggs. I am so happy to be alive and gay!

Mafia queens are born to kill male bees!

Among honey bees, male bees get into a bull fight to mate with the only queen bee. A successful male that gets to mate with the Queen bee often dies because its penis gets stuck and eventually the bee dies trying to free itself. The queen bee uses other males (lots of Plan B) to free herself from the broken penis and give another guy a chance for her to procreate. As gays we practice polygamous (monogamous) behavior without causing any death! Looking at life-cycle of insects, it appears like sex for procreation is more risky than recreation.

Clean, fill and flit:

Among Dragon flies, the male uses two brushes next to their penis to remove solidified sperm inside the female organ, from earlier copulation and ensuring their gene goes to the next generation. Should you admire their sense of hygiene or their objective to leave their gene pool behind? You have some hygiene lessons to learn from these insects!

The nature’s way of ensuring the planet is peaceful and there is no procreation agenda (in already over-crowded planet) is by creating gays. Remember we have a purpose and a contribution to make and we are not nature’s anomalies. The sole objective of any form of life born on earth is to procreate and in the animal kingdom it all happens without any wed-lock or commitment. So now you know where from we learnt our one-night stands, live-ins, kinks, hidden sexual agendas, chastity lock, and no-strings attached relationships, etc? But where did we take leaf of marriage from? Keep researching….

Pick-up line and 4th S!

A Pick-up line on the way to the boarding line

A little peep over the porcelain divider between us was enough to let him know my interest and orientation. He caught my eyes and returned the courtesy by watching my brave warrior. Here in Mumbai airport we were showcasing each other’s priced possession like kids. After the little exhibition we indulged in a casual conversation understand our backgrounds, personal and profession life and qualify our needs before we exchanged our numbers. The boarding call for Delhi flight separated us and the Peddar Road peda goes his way. He boards his flight and calls to let me know he got upgraded and I was his lucky charm! Even if it was a pick-up line, I felt it was fresh and made me feel good. Let’s see if the pick-up line gets an upgrade!

The 4th S: Shagg!

People enter restrooms in airports and train stations to Shit, Shave and Shower, but how about the 4^th S?

He found a seat across from Mens room ready to stare at all emptied crotches that came out. His shades buried not just lust laden eyes but his face, and he looked at me as I walked out of the Mens room. There was no beating around the bush.  He asked me if I liked him, we made a conversation, he shut his laptop and now he wanted me to flash my drive.

We went back to the same place, but we couldn’t go beyond looking, feeling and touching. We came out of the loo and he says, “where were you hiding all this while (a cheesy one!)” and this milk Khoa insisted I change my flight and come with him to Goa! He said it would be a shame if we didn’t sleep together.Oh that was indeed Samantha from SF!

If only some be(ginn)ings had no itineraries, passports and boarding cards, and if only our bodies could fly like our hearts, our horniness would be termed as hunger and none would be called a Samantha!

So next time you are in an airport loo watch out for the 4th S and and pick-up lines (Lions? Loins?).

The thir(s)ty somethings….

Pink with the kink
I was in my late twenties and when I suggested golden showers to my first boy friend (he was in his early twenties), while he was more into sleeping with other men behind my back. When I expressed the same desire to my second boy friend six years later, he almost turned straight (we made out less than a dozen times in the 3 years of courtship). And finally this man came around to satiate my desire. The thir(s)ty somethings….after 8 years.

The meat
I met him outside the hotel in a busy business district (not a meat packing one) and I was invited to get into his car since he was not able to find a parking spot. We drove me around the block, and tallied each other’s expectations and disappointments and made plans for the evening. Did we make plans to meet each or meet someone else was an hour away to see?


Rule 1: Picking up a steal deal is better than picking up a stale deal! So never haggle or settle for anything less in life, rather wait for things to go on Sale. What is pricey and out of reach will definitely go on sale and be available at a discount.

The five minute drive around the block seemed not enough for him to make up his mind, while his bumpy shoulders, chiseled, flat and mowed chest already gave me an idea of what play to stage that night in my room. The lost, anxious, nervous, and unsure look in his eyes made me downgrade him to my plan B. But before he dropped me off, I asked him if he had any inkling towards kinks, fetishes and fantasies. I recorded his response and went back to my room.

 The wait
Hitting the g-spot can be a jack-pot for the thirty plus, but the wait can fill forehead with more lines. During the hour long wait, I was back on Grindr touching the world of twenty somethings. This time around I was playing hard to get for people who wanted to come over tonight and lining up my ducks for the next days. And half hour into the long(ing) hour I messaged him to ask if he was definitely going to stop-by or should I look for another room-service or take-away?

Rule 2: Discussing your back-up plan is just being honesty. Having a back-up plan is never depressing and having your hand is even safer.

Within seconds I received his confirmation message. I ditched my plan to shower alone and spread myself on the king-size bed conjuring up a fairy-tale in my head and beaming a glint in my eyes. I was ready to be dried and drained!

 The knock on the door

And 90 mins later the knock finally came on my door. I peered through the glass opening to see if it was the same guy I met earlier. A white lose fitting tee covered his spotted dark torso and a faded denim shrouded his legs. I welcomed him in my tees and underwear to set the context for the meeting.

He wore the same shade of anxiety and nervous in his eyes. Was he scared or was he undecided about his needs and choices? After having enjoyed many sumptuous meals and cuisines, I was not going to be disappointed if I had to let go of this one or send it back untouched. I let him have the king-size bed to himself and sat across from him asking questions to understand his sexual preferences and secret desires while sharing mine. Was it plain vanilla, chocolate fudge, or glazed caramel? And finally he came around and said “can we get into the tub of desires”.

 Rule 3: Never coerce people to accept your choices or have sex with you. Sex has to be mutually pleasurable to be memorable.

In the tub of desires
I ushered him to the toilet, made him stand in front of the huge mirror. The mirror was magnanimous and had a space for another one (open relationship). I did the honors of disrobing him and enjoyed the same excitement a mother would have while dressing up her child. His wheatish skin that covered his bone of desires shined against the energy saving CFL. Soon we go into the tub of our desires. I set the shower in the right temperature and started the bonding ritual with a ceremonial wash. I realized my long wait of 8 years to engage in golden showers was finally coming to an end.

Fresh brew
The desire was 8 years old, but the brew was fresh. The shower had scrubbed away the coat of nervousness and anxiety without his knowledge. Like a brave soldier he opened his torso and showcased neatly mowed chest exhibiting the hidden desires below the follicles without any fright or shame. In response I turned off the shower and stood on the arms of the bath tub. I held my erect spout and pumped the fresh brew from my tanks. It was not too warm or too cold and the smile on his face confirmed it. However scientific it may sound, I had no way to control the temperature of the brew.

I hosed his right shoulder and watched the rivulets of the golden brew go down his chest. It was no rocket science to watch his emotions and adjust my speed and angle of impingement. I saw the nuts that bore his seeds of desire rejoice in quenched happiness. I switched to the left shoulder and even turned him around to ensure I covered all his burning follicles of desire.


Happy endings start with happy beginnings
Hook-ups revolves around roles we play (top or bottom), but can be made interesting with how you climax and how many times your climax. People more often fall for happy endings than work through happy beginnings. With over 30 minutes in the tub of desires, we made a hot start for the night. There was vanilla moments, golden showery moments, fudge packing moments, and which made the encounter like a three course meal.

It is all about how you approach the game of bed and make it the game of spread! Rediscover your desires and remember the rules!

The Mo(A)nsoon!

What differentiates good sex from best sex? It is the person, it is the posture, is it the participation level or it is the performance? Does it have to do with the length of the act? Does it have to do with the ambience? Does it have to do with the marital status of the person? Does size make it sizzle? Is there a new discovery in sex that makes it the best? Has it got to do with the kink factor? Is it marked by exhaustion? What are the real qualifiers for best sex?

I was not sure if summer was officially over, but at around 4pm when I looked out of the window the nature was ready to end its long and dry spell. The clouds had gathered and the cool breeze was definitely bringing home some water vapor and happiness. At that hour I heard my phone rang and it was a number not registered in my mobile and I had no guesses to make. When I answered the call he introduced himself as “Sunny”. OMG!

What is so special about the arrival of monsoon? In the wild, it is the start of the breeding season. The dry spell that limited food and water is now in abundance for the hormones to possess and pass on the gene to the next generation. Salmons swim against the current to breed, the male mammals fight amongst them to prove their vigor and valor, and the females do their courting dance and games before the act of copulation. That was just plain, simple, proved procreation and boring Darwinism!

The last time Sunny called me was three months back and when he called he sounded tensed, confused and anxious. I thought he made a call to schedule a romp evening, but instead he announced his wedding plans and asked to stay out of his life. I sent him a few SMSs that evening certifying that he was the most passionate sex partner I had ever had in my life and it was sad to lose him to a woman. But nevertheless I promised to be available if he ever decided on getting some “man” love. And I deleted Sunny’s number from my mobile that evening. It not that easy to delete the best memories!

But there are some things that is just beyond Darwinism and that your Nat Geo or Discovery channel will never get to film. The act is wild, purely driven by the heat of summer, the heat of separation and the collusion of the male hormones – testosterone. For a change such a coming together was not driven by scent of the female hormones. There was no fights, no courting games, and there was nothing to prove or establish superiority. There was just unwavering passion, there was unending kissing, hissing and wrestling on a 6 feet by 3.5 feet foam mattress. This was just pure recreation!

And today, Sunny was back in my life. After that call he sent two text messages that evening one as soon as he left work and other confirming his time of arrival. I showered and waited more impatiently than newly wedded wife. If a married man was to come back to it was my victory. I knew I had something more compelling and precious to offer more so than his wife. Monsoon can be both wet and wild!

When monsoon shower meets the parched earth, dried seeds swell in happiness and shriveled roots sprout and there is a fresh smell of life emanating from the earth. The “man” soon brought the same smell and life that invigorated me. The perfume makers in France will never be able to recreate the smell of his sweaty armpits and the chocolate makers in Swiss will not be able to concoct the taste of his sweaty skin. I could see from his hairy chest, armpits and pubic area that he was having a busy schedule. Marriage had made him little lazy, but that didn’t stop the scent of manliness emanating from him, it was truly revitalizing.

Table manners teach you how to hold the fork and knife, spread the napkin on your lap, how to refrain from making noise with cutlery and control our sound box (burp, fart, etc) but bed manners doesn’t teach you anything absurd like this. Everything that happens on the bed has a sense of appeal and not appall. Learn to discover what makes the other person moan and whimper, what keeps them high and excited and once you learn the art of discovering new secrets every time, they are sure to become your slave without any contractual obligation. Contracts only make life mundane and unexciting.

Within in minutes after his arrival we went from the horizontal hug and kiss to vertical hug and kiss. My tongue ran from behind his ear to the bottom portion of his neck. The hormones travelling from between his legs were getting to his brain. I pinned him down on the bed and my arms wrapped around his chiseled chest. Finally I clasped his ear lobe with my lips and then teeth and the rolled my tongue over the contours of the ear lobe. Every hiss I made in his ears, made him toss and turn in excitement, and confirmed the hormones from between his legs reaching his head. His surrender was a result of intoxication, intoxication from his own hormones. Do now you understand what it means when people say “don’t fuck my brains”?

I turned the Sunny(‘s) side up and every time I held him tight and I inhaled him with passion I was sure no women would ever do that to him. I ran my tongue all over his body and my taste buds enjoy the tartness in his skin. This was my way of registering his scent in my brain, benchmarking the best and ensuring that he would come back for more.

My heat and passion melted his hormones let it freely flow in the 6 feet body. I turned into a feline and let me taste buds taste every pore in his body and clasp every inch of flesh between my teeth. I locked our fingers to ensure he had no escape route while went down sealing his body like a polyethylene cover. Finally when I kissed his feet, I discovered his fingers curl in pleasure. I went down and opened each of the curled fingers with my lips, clutch them firmly with my teeth and run my tongue over them. His femur grew by a few more inches and the volume of his moans increased.

Sex is 50% what do you and 50% what gets done to you. It was now Sunny’s turn to empower me. He turned over and got on top of me and next second he seized my lips like as though they were drugs, while I played with his nipples. I meekly submitted myself to his muscle power and “must” power. There was metamorphosis from being a feline to a reptile as we laid there in coiled up pose playing with each other’s steel like hose. While I went down to take care of his shriveled beef jerky, he rolled his tongue from behind into me. It was heaven on earth; it was wild without the wilderness.

In an era of T20 matches, an hour had elapsed with just foreplay. Our score rate may not be significant, but our innings and partnership was commendable. I was getting some intense cardio and had no guilt from skipping the gym that evening. There was no audience and we needed none to cheer us and keep us going.

It was a torrential downpour of hormones and 75 mins had elapsed into the act and we were not even close to reaching the climax. The lint from the blanket scattered on the floor was a testimony to the fervor behind the act. Is this a mark of customer satisfaction, enjoyment or performance? Well it was the mark of best! We discovered new secrets, we tried different postures and finally when we climaxed in the coital pose, there was a big sigh of relief and happiness on his face.

We returned to the shower and as we soaped each other we spoke about his fear before marriage, his 3 month hiatus after marriage and me being his first booty call after marriage. We bonded again over the soaping ritual and those three months of separation suddenly vanished and a new leaf in our tree of friendship came alive as we stood dripping went under the shower. I had a big grin on my face while I was not sure if he was washing his guilt in the shower. He stretched his arms and chest looked at the mirror and to spot bite marks. I left none to savor. He confessed that the perfume of women was not as unappetizing or threatening as he had thought before and the act of satisfying was easy. Now he was talking like an expert who had visited a few hundred women! He was just gay but married, but a passionate man eater!

The summers of our life had ended and the monsoon brought a new chapter in his life. As we were getting dressed up there was a call from his marriage. He said he was on his way home and hugged me and kissed me on my lips with more passion than before. The woman had made him better. I had only gained from his marriage! And now you probably know what differentiates good from best sex!

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

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.

Virginator

When you say you are a virgin should I say you are cursed or you are waiting to be blessed? On the first hand should I even trust your word for it? 23 years of age, you come from the rape capital of the country and you claim to be a virgin. Merci! Merci!

Before I turned on the car ignition to pick him up that evening, I sent him a text message confirming if he was mentally and physically ready to end his virginity. I wanted to ensure that he had no regrets and we shared the same excitement to end his virginity. I wanted to give him the best experience because this was something that was going to stay with him forever. A gift forever!

His wait to end his virginity was approximately six months from the first time we met and today it was a 30 kms drive outside the city. Ever since the first meeting we had exchanged numbers, I stayed away from persuading him to end his virginity and though he liked me, he was afraid to approach me with his desire. Honestly, I was not sure if he was ready to end his virginity and I didn’t want to kick start the trip of guilt and confusion in his mind. I was not sure if he was gay, straight and curious or bi-sexual. I was taught responsible sex – not to physically or emotionally harm or hurt my partner. Since I didn’t have any answers to the above choices I simple stayed away.

But one night a text messaged blinked on my mobile and started this whole journey. What started as mild flirtation turned into a serious desire to taste men and a quest to end his virginity. Over the next few days the draw was more and he appeared like an ocean getting ready for that draw and dance on the new moon night, let its hair down and lose. I asked him his fantasies, preference and choices, he seemed to be a clean slate ready to written with a white chalk.

That night I knew I was driving towards ending his virginity, while he was driving towards the pleasure land. This was like an irreversible reaction, chemically, biologically and psychologically. But I had the added responsibility of teaching someone good sex. Teaching sex is like teaching them etiquettes, if you don’t teach them the right things they are going to earn a bad name for you. :-)

Every 10 mins on the drive I sent him a sms to confirm his enthusiasm and I must say I was even prepared to go home high and dry, but didn’t want him to feel guilty or confused. At one point after I drove past the toll booth he sent me a sms that saying that he doesn’t know what excuse put forward to get out of the house on a stormy night. By then my dreams were higher than the multi-story IT buildings and I had to him to cross the Lakshman Rekha.

I picked him up and I let him choose the spot for the suhagraat. One last time I asked him if he was okay to end it. Then I put my arms around him and scripted the end to his virginity. I saw his eyes dilating and showing sparks of pleasure. I was trying to capture every emotion he expressed from pleasure to pain. An important characteristic of a seasoned player is to turn on the heat based on reaction and response.

Every window in those multistory IT buildings was sparkling and starring at us on that rainy weekend night. He was sure that this was a safe spot and it was away from any human and vehicular traffic. I parked the car and did a survey of the place to ensure it was safe.

He was nervous, but I was not sure if he was nervous because we were in a public place or he was nervous to be with me. I assuaged him and moved his seat behind and created a more room for interaction, while my eyes were constantly surveying the rear view mirror.

I unbuttoned his shirt and then slowly held his lips with mine and taught him the talk of lip. A slow and gentle bite was enough to impinge those neurons in his brains and deliver the signal between his legs. I taught him the art of reciprocity and explained the law of satisfaction – 50% of satisfaction is what you do to other person and 50% is what the other person does to you. I didn’t want to thrust my choices or fantasies on him and I explained every act and there were lots of practical demonstration and he certainly made me feel like a professor of sex! (PoS)

I was assured that he was playing this game only when he draped his arms around me and dipped those fingers into my hairy chest. It was time for the next trick. I unbuttoned his shirt fully and put my lips on his nipples. It was like rolling my tongue over button mushrooms, there was a texture and color to it. My lips picked up the texture but it was too dark for the color. By now he was enjoying and occasionally moaning when my teeth were over his nipples.

Every now and then we were interrupted by a lorry or bike in that deserted piece of road. Though sex in a car was not the best first start, but nevertheless it was a good net practice for a novice. By then my hands reached the gear between his legs. Touching a virgin dick was new to me and I was trying to adjust the pressure on my fingers guaranteeing him full pleasure and not pain. Having it in my mouth was like having a piece of fresh and live meat. Every now and then when my lips were tired I asked him how he felt. He was ecstatic and now it was time to teach him the art of deriving pleasure from giving pleasure.

The next lesson was on climax - when one climax does and how to make maximize the pleasure at climax? I felt like explain a physiobiochemical reaction happening in temperature and pressure regulated a chamber. I calmed him as he launched the spectacle in air. I wiped the sweat on his forehead and asked him to relax.

By the time the entire act was over it was over 45 mins and his white hanky was even whiter. I saw him change a few shades of color and I told him to relax and not feel guilt and conscious about sex. Sex is purely physical and not be analyzed or made intellectual. We kissed for the last time before I dropped him. He seemed fine!

I came home that night and decided to do a customer satisfaction survey on SMS. He responded positively and finally two days later he asked for the next appointment.

So are you looking to re-virginize and chase me for an appointment to learn carma-sutra? Come on guys, this Samantha guarantees satisfaction! Sex is a two-way street!

French FCUK?

Carrie Bradshaw only knows good sex, but I know where and how you can get good sex in Paris and many other cities. French have stamped their identity on fries, wine, cheese, coffee, chocolate, and kiss but how about FCUK and potato between the wedges? Call it a rendezvous or rencontres, it is important you tour the alleys of any city and taste the local cuisine to make the experience complete.

I walked around Marais, the gayborhood in Paris. From gay bars, restaurants, adult stores to bath houses, Marais has it all. What really caught my attention was the Indian themed paintings on the double doors of “Sun City” on Blvd Sabastopool. Sun City has a bar, gym, pool, sauna, turkish bath, labyrinth and odes of men. If you have still not figured it out it is more than an orgy park, it is an orgy central. So should it be named Fun City?

The last time I walked into a sauna was in Boston, US in the year 2000. The place was dim, steamy and the bears scared the shit out of me and the sadly trip ended in a few minute. 10 years later here I am in Paris venturing into an orgy park after 10 PM. Along with me butterflies too sneaked into Sun City. The hallway was dark, damp, cold and Indian music buried the humming noise of the motors pumping the water and air-conditioning the place. The huge Indian sculptures of Gods and Goddesses made me feel at home and chased my butterflies.

I continued to walk as though I knew the place by the back of my hand, but in reality the only familiar one was the sound of sitar over the PA system. Like animals hiding behind the bush in the jungle, half a dozen men gazed at me without a speck of emotion on their face. Will their tongue intimidate, or entangle and entertain? It was Adrenalin vs Testosterone or Marina vs. Marais?

It was a weekday night and still the place had a crowd of more than 2 dozens. I locked my belongings and walked around the facility. Alain smiled at me as I ascended the stairs. A huge gym with a dozen treadmills and weight training machines filled with hunks and their chiseled chunks welcomed me. My wait had ended and my wish came true. All the men were bare-chested, some were running on the treadmill in their jockey and a few had a towel that precariously hung around their waist. I tightened my muscles and checked myself in the mirror, but I was in no comparison to the French men. French loafers and their hanging loaf made my heart pump more blood below my waist.

Some took the winding stairs that dumped them into swimming pool and Jacuzzi area. I followed them and watched them take a plunge into the swimming pool, while I settled for the Jacuzzi. The indoor pool was surrounded with resting benches occupied by big daddies. They looked like crocodiles basking in the sun.

Alain was the only other person with along with me in the Jacuzzi. We were naked and at opposite ends of the tub. The visibility was poor because of the distance and the high velocity water jet stream. Slowly Alain’s toe nudged mine, it is a move or a mistake? He didn’t apologize, but rather waited to gauge my reaction. I was not sure if the water pushed him my way. Since this was a gay hang out, I had no doubts about his sexuality, I wanted to give him another chance before I make the next move.

Alain finally came closer and without any weapons he captured the one-eyed water snake between my legs. There was no hissing or pissing, no struggle to escape or surrender, without any fit and frown my boy saluted the French man. As mark of respect, I ran my hands on his hairy chest and used my index finger and thumb to feel his nipples. Does Alphs run in France? Then I descended down his thighs. Not sure what message my fingers conveyed, he moved across swiftly and arrested my lower lip with his teeth.

Atlast the French kiss that I was waiting for was showered and showcased. His tongue was in my mouth, while my head trying to capture, process, and store the movements of his tongue. He massaged my gums and sculpted my teeth with his tongue and at times clenched my lips with his teeth as a mark of friendship. The acrobatics, dynamics, and stamina exhibited by the 2.5 inch muscle astonished me. Now I knew what it means when they refer to a “tongue twister” and “tongue tied”. I am finally FFF certified – French kissed by French in France.

I didn’t realize this trip of mine was going to set new records and test a few laws. We spent the next 45 minutes just repeating and rehearsing the act. This very kiss made my 20 year long sex life nothing. As the passion and hormones ascended I went down like a scuba driver looking to catch a glimpse of the underwater life. It was elementary and orgasmic. Every minute I came up to flush my lungs and stock up a fresh supply of oxygen.

Does water add to friction or does it act as a lubricant? I tested the Newton and Archimedes laws and validated them underwater. Why did I not run such experiments in the past? For the first time I had a complete erection underwater that lasted longer and underwater wanking was fun and frictionless.

Alain and I exchanged some basic personal information and our conversations were interrupted every now and then a few people came to the Jacuzzi. While some decided to gives us the privacy, some wanted to be a part of the fun. More the merrier!

Have you ever been in a situation where you had to court favors to make up for your country’s incompetency? I felt like an Indian Ambassador to France.I was making amends for all the bad publicity India had earned before the Common Wealth Games. My duty was to please and pleasure them. The French are indeed masters, specialists and experts when it comes to kissing, but what about FCUK?

Labyrinth and Sauna stories will continue….

Trial or Trail

Urges and splurges are two important characteristics traits that most gay male exhibit. Doesn’t matter however long or short they tend to last, yet the ephemeral euphoria make this behavior predictable and repeatable across the spectrum. Remember it is the same urge and splurge that drives popular shoplifters like Paris Hilton on a stealing binge, but I am consciously keeping them out of this discussion.

Now, coming back to the subject – aren’t trial rooms the best place to try out things before you buy them and bring them home? We all want to make sure the “size fits”, fabric flows well, color enhances our value, the cut accentuates our strengths and underplays flab and finally the fitment make us look slim, trendy and cool? Agreed?

I shook hands with him in party couple of months back and that is what he narrated when I drew a blank face and turned around to check if he was smiling at someone. I was not drunk, but still I had no memory of meeting him in the party. May be my memory was dark and more crowded than the club to register his handshake, smile and well sculpted physique.

Be it from the mall or from the party hall, I rarely bring home things in a whiff or huff. Express Mall had barely opened its doors and there I was with my colleagues on a weekday afternoon “checking out” clothing stores for fabrics, deals and discounts. Who doesn’t want to look stylish, fashionable, colorful and attractive, importantly at discounted price?

Those solid arms loosened the firmly held a glass, and reached out for another introduction, hug and handshake. His jaw bones beautifully framed his face; naughty smile lighted up his face and accentuated his sharp features, and a perfect washboard body protecting his heart and highlighting more. His shirt and trouser was definitely hiding more than secrets than Khujraho. He was probably the best dressed man in that stag party. He was leaning against the railing that went around the pool and flashed a smile of familiarity, while my face drew a blank, like my savings account. This was the second time he reminded me of our earlier meeting, I put my arms around him and profusely and sincerely apologized. I didn’t want to grow this unfamiliar, unfriendly and stranger feeling; I extended an arm of friendship.

We all want to touch, feel and drape the fabric before we buy. For some the process of touching and feeling is more appealing than the process of buying and wearing. It is not just the store and clothes that comes in all shapes and sizes, it is us humans too!

Never judge book by its cover or cloth by its fabric. Remember only when you read and wear you discover the comfort. Same is true for friends.

At the mall a few shirts screamed “touch me, try me and take me” but still I resisted their loud cry. There was a time when I used shopped impulsively, but over the years, a little wisdom had dawned. Here is a little secret that I’m sharing with you, Im still awaiting the arrival of my wisdom teeth. Do you have yours in place?

During that stag party our eyes were constantly sifting and searching through the crowd and zeroing in on each other like store cameras. Who is touching him, who is he talking to, who is around him? He confirmed the same feeling when we met for coffee the next time. This is the same feeling you go through when you like something in a store. You always look at it from a distance, go near to touch and feel and give a final glance from a distance before you walk out of the store. We all “check out” and make mental notes though some of us don’t pursue further. But I was not sure what he was thinking and if he would pursue.

My wisdom is simple - set your eyes, watch them often and nab them at an opportune moment when they go on sale. That game of wait, watch and win brings so much pleasure than just the plain vanilla “go and buy”.

Sometimes you take the store number or leave your number behind and ask them to inform you when things go on “sale”. Was he thinking like me? Was he waiting for me to go on discount sale? I had no clue, but I was curious to find out. We exchanged numbers, went our ways but kept comm(unicating) back and forth.

A month later we decided to meet at Express Mall and by then lots more stores were open to public. We took a stroll from one end to another end visiting all the clothing stores. I had no agenda to buy, but urges and splurges leave none untouched. To my surprise the same shirt that I had seen a month ago was on sale and was marked down by 50%. Excitement and adrenalin rush hit my head instantly.

Do you call this a coincidence, shoppers wisdom or providential blessing or karmic recon? I had seen him (read as shirts) earlier on two occasions but didn’t have the instant urge to splurge. And I strongly believed things will definitely come to you if it is truly meant for you, be it a shirt or others. I held the shirt against my chest with a sense of joy, achievement and satisfaction, and his approval added to my joy. But he insisted that I try out the shirt.

Trail…trail…trail….!

On the way to the trial room I found another white shirt (almost a see through material) which was on sale. He was a loner hanging on the rack and I decided to take all three of them into the trial room with me. I was not greedy or gluttonous to take everything inside the trial room, I was just being choosy, and most importantly size matters!

He waited outside while I tried on the new found loves and came out of the room looking for his assent. He checked out the cut and fit and advised me to go for a size less. I unbuttoned the shirt while he requested the sales assistant for the next smaller size. During the next trial he walked into the room and outright rejected the white shirt on the grounds of “size”. Not sure if he approved my hairy chest or the shirt, but the black and purple checked shirt made it to the billing counter without any second thought.

Was he a prudent shopper like me? Did he set his eyes on my and let me grace for a while before he bowed down to my arrow and hunted me down?

Now in a different store I started my trial with trousers. Vertical lines, cotton polyester mix with little sheen, thin loops, frictionless zipper that obeys gravity, straight fit and easy on wallet was my type. Trial and trail, all that changes is the placement of (i).

There was a line waiting to go in the trial room and looking at the line I hesitated if I should try it out or walk out of the store. But by the time we had our turn the trial rooms were empty. He had already seen my torso and I didn’t have to invite him for the next show. I undressed my pants and his eyes instantly caught the attention of my chiseled thighs. He immediately approved and applauded, “seldom we do we see men with chiseled thighs and I’m impressed”.

He checked out the fork line with his hands and outright rejected it. Was it too big or was it too small in his eyes? What put him off? Was it my size or trouser size? Choosing, selecting and approving ones clothes are very personal and I lowered my guard and let him into my space. Incursion or inclusion?

Until then the door was open and he was standing outside and loudly expressing his disapproval. Once I let the trouser under the influence of gravity (shh…well they were not willing to stay in my hip) he walked into the room and bolted the door. I felt like one of those Polo models descended from the billboard to help me with my clothing and more. I ignored the voices that I heard in the next rooms and quickly looked up to see if the trial room was under camera surveillance in the meantime my arrowed was bowing to him.

Aren’t trial rooms the best place to try out things before you buy them and bring them home? This man was of international quality, the stitch was perfect, the cut was trendy, and rest was beyond comprehension and description. I didn’t have to help, nudge or teach him, he knew exactly what he wanted and what to do and how to do. He became a lion at the fork! I caught him looking at the reflection in the mirror and relishing the act. I responded, recognized and reciprocated.

That was our R&R! (Reward and recognition)

What go dumped in that room was the trouser with a tight fork line and what got taken away was the love message written in his hanky. I stepped out first while he dressed himself and walked out with a contented feeling. Be it with men or clothes, we can rarely have the “contented” feeling for long. That evening I walked home with the feeling of content after finding the perfect fit, size and fabric. But will there be another elaborate trial or will I get to keep it forever?

Don’t worry about me….get ready for your trial.

Sex - A journey not a destination!

I wonder how many of you have really enjoyed the moments post the hormonal rush not worried about stained sheets and shooing your subject/object of pleasure (I call it getting rid of evidences and memories) and entertaining your new sense of hygiene and washing your guilt by jumping in the shower and treating every piece of cloth including your partner like dirty laundry and bed room like a crime scene. I know most of us will be able to relate to my topic of discussion either as criminals or victims.

I have known him for a year and when I held him against my chest for the first time I had this feeling I had known him for many births. Familiarity didn’t breed contempt! Defenses were down and insecurity vanished. There was no intention to seduce or suffocate, but everything that evening turned out to be beautiful that started with a mere hold. He said we could finish the evening with just that hold and made is sound as if my arms were the seat of his soul.

Like a satin ribbon around an eagerly awaited gift to be opened, I enjoyed wrapping my hands a treasure and trove of excitement. My palms felt every beat and every skipped beat in his chest but I was in no hurry to severe my ties with the gift or unwrap it. My soul was intoxicated from just the hug. The very thought of the scene makes my mind serene! Sex is not the destination it is the journey!

We all spend hours identifying, prospecting and attracting the right one while pretending to the best. Then we create the place and finally setting the stage and enact a script to climax, but seldom have we spent time post coital to enjoy the pure meditative state not with contemplation but just complete the moments unadulterated of love.

Like love, sex cannot be discussed and planned. The connection is instant and you don’t know how you get into it and when you get out of it. All you have to do is be attentive and sensitive. A sensuous touch can send him into a spiral instantly; a mere hiss can create a chuckle and become a ripple that touch the soul and open up the dormant volcano of emotions. Stimulate the emotions, receive and recognize without loss, and finally amplify to make the other partner feel loved and celebrated. Remember simulation is always a part of stimulation. Happiness is received as a result of giving and receiving.

Sex is not about climaxing but it is about connecting and communicating. Do people even know this side of sex? Once the fluid power is spent mind goes on to wander and invent a variety of reasons to get out of the place. Pearl necklaces turn into Pearl harbors and waist belts suddenly become ugly and are no more perceived as badges of honor or achievements. Is it waking up from comma feeling? What was yum so far suddenly becomes yuck when it leaks out of the body. But why?

I have had people who got dressed and left the place in minutes, I have had conversations till the fluids dried, I have had people who’ve brought cold towel and cleaned me up and I have had a few stay back and made the ritual extra special. What a variety!

Some of my best lovers have taught me the art of complete enjoyment in sex. I have learnt the most about love and lust in the minutes after climax. Like the beautiful stars that wink and twinkle I have seen some beautiful souls in the twilight hour under the blankets. Are you waiting for the twilight hour?

I have curled up with my partners and finished a tub of ice-cream together in bed while discussing politics, relationships, jobs and life. When our defenses and judgments are lying on the floor along with our clothes, isn’t that the best moment to take a peep at the naked soul? Bonding is further increased when we jump into the shower together and making the ritual of bathing into a ritual of bonding. He turns on the hot water and brings the towels while I take a leak and then we jump into the shower. I watch the beauty of every bit of his muscle hydrated on the outside and then I soap his back and he shampoos my head and then we share jokes and stories in the shower. He dries me and offers me a fresh piece of clothing. Sex is also not just about sensual touch, but also about love and care in the after moments.

The post sexual moments is like the twilight hour, it is not pitch dark and it is not glaringly bright, yet very mystical! It is not the union of hormones, not a vulgar exhibition of carnal behavior, but a mere display that tender touch, care, love and satisfaction when the engine and spark plug is switched “off”.

Sex is not about mileage, time, or repetitions but about satisfaction. Sex is a two way to communication between souls with the language of touch and feel using the body as a medium. Do people even get to that level of communication? And I always believed 50% of sexual pleasure is derived from how you treat the person before and after sex. Doesn't matter if you don't have a relationship in life, but dont miss such moments of intimate intimacy!

Giving is caring, caring is nurturing and nurturing is loving. Let us getaway from show up and shove up world and explore the beauty of the soul. Doesn’t matter even if you don’t want to meet that person again, but still you extend the arm of love and care without showing him the door!

Remember, the destination becomes more interesting when the journey is made interesting. Let us understand the journey so that the destination becomes self explanatory and self joyous!