Friday, April 13, 2018

Bluer Than Blued, Sadder Than Sad

Normally I maintain a certain level of equanimity in my engagements online. But I am human, and I do get triggered—sometimes from unexpected displays of, uhm, carelessness.

Recently I have been meeting some of these careless peeps online in the hugely popular gay social network site, Blued. It is a Chinese social network, but a lot of Filipino gay men are on it, which makes me wonder if hordes of ka-DDS’s are going to migrate there after deleting their Facebook. I’m waiting for the Presidential Spokesperson and Thinking Pinoy to appear there—and be promptly fat-shamed by Mr. Desperate-For-Your-Clicks Franco Mabanta. Anyway. Within a series of a few hours this morning, I received three messages from three different guys. And I don’t know what came over me today, I don’t know if it’s something I ate for breakfast, but I seemed to be extra triggered this morning. Or I was just unlucky to get three in a row.

To wit, see the following (my replies are in blue on the right).

Exhibit A:

Exhibit B:

Exhibit C:

A few more of these, and I will make Blued my online venue to practice my comedy-bar host routine.

Sunday, April 8, 2018

If The Shoe… Nga Naman!

After several weeks on the job, my officemates and I realised that there were no cute guys in our office—or at least on our floor. Which was a bummer, because we had hoped there would be male eye candy while we slogged through the day’s tasks.

Until one day when I went to the pantry to get a cup of coffee, and there he was, seated near the entrance, talking to a female officemate. He looked like he was in his mid- to late-20s, handsome, very put together. He was talking animatedly to a girl whom I assumed was a staff of his, because she looked fresh out of college. His voice had a manly yet thoughtful tone, like he would think first before speaking. I thought, “Looks good, sounds good, hmmm, good enough!” I was excited to go back to my officemates and tell them to go to the pantry and check him out.

He was talking to her about a fellow officemate; I and the few others in the pantry knew that because he wasn’t whispering. It seems that his staff member was having a difficult time dealing with that officemate, so Cute Guy was giving her pointers.

Then he said this: “Look, look. Put your shoes in her shoes, okay?”

I almost dropped the coffee cup I was holding.

*cricket, cricket*

When I got back to our room, I asked out loud to no one in particular, “Wala bang guwapo at okey sa opis na ‘to?”

Friday, March 30, 2018

Fare Thee Well, Richard S. Cunanan

Back in college, Richard always played second-fiddle to his best friend, G. It was G who got the girl, who got the lead part, who grabbed more attention. He also became my ultimate college crush; I fell hard for him while Richard became the “best-friend barrier” I had to overcome. Meanwhile Richard was contented with playing his wing-man, making sharp observations and snide comments along the way. That was first year, when we were all classmates in our English homeroom section.

By second year the two besties were separated because of their chosen courses. G and I became inseparable during our Communication Arts classes, while Richard had to attend his Psychology classes. I thought I succeeded in bumping him off. But then we all joined the college theatre company. There I realised that while I could potentially replace Richard as G’s constant companion, it will take more than proximity to get him to fall for me.

Of course neither guys knew what I was up to. To them, I was just a close friend. In fact, Richard was very gracious in acknowledging that I was spending more time with his best friend than him; not once did he take that against me.

On our fourth year I decided to tell G about my feelings. Needless to say, I crashed and burned.

Eventually we graduated from college. Because I never hung out with Richard in school, we didn’t seek each other out after college. G eventually moved away from me both emotionally and physically (he got married and moved to the US). Richard was someone I’d often bump into again and again. He became very involved in local theatre, appearing in different productions of various school-based and professional companies. Even onstage, he was rarely the lead. But he was truly the epitome of a supporting player—someone who ably did his part to make sure that the others and the entire play would shine as a whole.

He extended that attitude offstage. The rare times we’d bump into each other he would always be genuinely curious about how I was and what I was doing. And while he was sharply funny, Richard had an easy laugh which he’d let loose anywhere to show appreciation of a good joke or two.

Richard was physically huge, but he never let that stop him from acting. And directors kept getting him in spite of, or maybe because of, his massive frame. At least every Christmas he had a sure gig playing Santa Claus.

His huge frame couldn’t hide his big, generous heart—but it managed to hide the sickness that was inside him. He was unhealthy for years, but his joie de vivre successfully masked his deteriorating health.

Two weeks ago his cold and cough developed into pneumonia, and he was brought to the hospital. His kidneys failed, but doctors managed to stabilise his condition. On Friday, March 23, he suffered a cardiac arrest and breathed his last.

Because Richard was a freelance actor, he worked and became friends with many members of the different theatre companies in the metro. His wake managed to do the near impossible—unite these diverse companies. For one night, Richard was the lead.

Tuesday, March 20, 2018

Chamorro! Chamorro! I Love You, Chamorro!

He messaged me on Grindr: “Bottom boy here, visiting.”

I asked him where he was staying. Belmont Resorts World Manila, he replied. He then sent two pictures, one showing his face (though the file was low-res) and the other showing his naked ass for the camera.

“I’ll go there after work,” I told him.

He said he was 28 years old. He revealed that he was already married with a kid. But they were back home while he was here on business.

“I’ll definitely go there after work,” I told myself.


When he fetched me at lobby, I was struck by how tall he is. He also looked Pinoy, so I assumed he was from the province.

Turns out, he’s from Guam. He’s Chamorro (the indigenous peoples of the Mariana Islands) and while he looked Pinoy, his height didn’t. His cock size also was American in its size and uncut glory—at least a 7, semi-hard.

He sat in his hotel bed and stared at the TV that was showing some stupid US reality show. So I decided to start things by sitting beside him and rubbing my hand on his thigh. Sensing that I was waiting for him, he took off his t-shirt, then, in one move, stripped off his shorts and underwear. He lay down on the bed and watched me take my clothes off, looking expectingly at the hard on I already had.

He clearly preferred that I do the moves while he happy lay in bed, although he liked running his hands all over my back, even cupping and squeezing my butt. With the way his hands stroked my body I could tell he missed touching another man’s body.

I loved how his cock grew thicker and harder as I swallowed it whole. He loved how I licked his cock, balls, and perineum… and when I flicked my tongue on his hole, he let out an audible moan. After I tongue-fucked his hole for a few minutes, he couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed his tube of lube on the bedside. I grabbed the box of condoms from my bag.

I placed his legs on my shoulders and moved in closer. When I entered him, he let out a sigh, grabbed his hardened cock, and started jacking off. I matched his strokes with my thrusts. Eventually we were moving as one, breathing and panting and sweating in unison. And when I felt I couldn’t take it any more, I gasped through my teeth, “Oh god, I’m close, I’m close!” He quickened his pumping. And just before I exploded, I saw his milky white cum shoot out of his cock.


Afterwards we chatted a bit.

He asked me what Filipinos do for entertainment. I said, “During weekdays, ManileƱos like to eat and shop.”

“Same with us Guamanians,” he said. Noting my puzzled expression, he added, “Guamanians and Chamorro, they’re the same.”

“Aaaahhh,” I said.

I asked him what he was doing in Manila. He said he was taking his annual physical here instead of in Guam, because it’s cheaper here, plus we have more skilled doctors than back in his home.

“So what do you do back home?” I asked.

“I’m with law enforcement,” he replied.

Ooooohhh. I was speechless for about half a minute.

“You’re a cop?” I asked.

“No,” he said. “Probations officer.”

I must admit, I was slightly disappointed. I wanted him to don his uniform, but he didn’t have it with him.

But at least, man-in-uniform, check! Fucked a Guamanian for the first time, check! Two down from my sexual bucket list.

Maybe during his next annual medical, we’ll hook up again. Same time next year?

Friday, March 9, 2018

Excuse The Occasional Political Post

I have two long-time friends who, whenever we talk about the current Philippine president, they say, “But the surveys say that many Filipinos are still behind him. I don’t get that, but there you go.”

To them and to those who use his popularity as a reason to say “Wait, let’s see what else he will do,” I offer you this article by Krip Yuson. It’s a long read, but ultimately it boils down to something that adults believe in: Wrong is wrong.

Saturday, March 3, 2018


HIM: I still don’t get why you find me attractive.

ME: Well, most people naman don’t really look at themselves and be so GGSS (gandang-ganda sa sarili). So yeah, you’re pretty normal, hahaha. I mean, look. You have a boyfriend—do you think he’ll be with you if he wasn’t attracted to you?

HIM: Yeah.

ME: Speaking of, how are you two guys now?

HIM: We’re okay, I guess.

ME: Is he less “freaked out” nowadays with your status? Has it already sunk in?

HIM: Put it this way, and please don’t take this against him because I don’t hahaha, but we haven’t kissed lips to lips since, hahaha!

ME: Okay, I get it. I totally get where he’s coming from.

HIM: Same. It’s a bit hard for me though, but well, haha I have to understand. Hahaha.

ME: Someone warned me I should not be doing it with someone whose status isn't “undetectable” yet, but I feel that kind of attitude is defeatist. Besides, that’s why I use condoms and taking PrEP.

HIM: Yeah, that attitude’s kind of… not cool. Hahaha.

ME: Can I confess something that’s a little... well... not ordinary?

HIM: Go!

ME: I actually find you sexier now, especially with your status. It’s as if you are now a ‘limited edition” like a comic book, and so only those who really are worthy of you can enjoy your sexiness.

HIM: Hahahahaha! I actually find the comparison funny.

ME: Better you find it funny than weird or creepy!

HIM: Nah. I mean, much like a comic book, I feel like I should be wrapped in plastic and shoved in a closet. HAHAHAHAHA. I’m kidding, hehehe.

* * * * *

Strangely enough (or maybe I really ought to not think of it as strange at all), after confessing that to him, I got a semi-hard on. I invited him for another session with me, but he begged off, saying he wasn’t in the mood that time. But he promised he’ll contact me when he feels like it.

Funny how the human mind works. Trust me, it’s not just my mind. I’m sure you have your own inner freaks on. But just how willing you are to listen—mush less act—on them, well, that’s up to you.

Sunday, February 25, 2018

Orgy Porgy

So this is the third(?) time I joined this group of guys (two of them are the organisers and the venue sponsors) who are into “group fun”. These guys are, to merely simplify descriptions, in their 30s and 40s, can easily be lumped into the gay category of “daddies,” and are mostly top. That’s why they try to invite younger, more fit, and very game bottoms to the group fun. The rules are simple. No drugs. Bring your own condoms and lube. No cameras (photos or videos are not allowed). What happens in the room stays in the room (since several of them have wives, as in, actual wives—you know, the female variety—with matching children).

This latest group fun, compared to others I’ve been to, was one of the better orgies. The versa-bottoms who joined that night were four in total, which was a good number because the tops, who numbered around 6-10 guys (some left early, some came late, some preferred to just be sucked) had a variety of guys to fuck—from the slim and twinkish to the short but muscle-packed. One was absolutely talented with his mouth—let me call him Magic Mouth—and he gave blow jobs like his mouth had a life of its own. One wore porn-ready underwear (the open-at-the-back kind of t-back) which was sexy and inviting. All were very willing and able in their roles. All were able to take in the varying cock sizes of the tops, and everyone made sure they cleaned up nicely before going to the hotel room. And there were a lot of condoms and lube available. Guys could easily protect themselves while having fun.

When I hook up, I normally just get off once and that’s it, because my recovery period in between ejaculations takes a lot longer, given my age. With group fun, I can pace myself better because I just enjoy watching the others while I recover. I was able to cum three times that night.

But while it was quite a fun night, I couldn’t help but turn introspective afterwards. Attending such activities has triggered some of my insecurities, which I thought I had overcome already, to come back. I worry that my “average Pinoy-size” penis isn’t enough for cock-hungry bottoms, that I am not be able to satisfy them because I may not hit their G-spot, that my girth and length will not fill them to their satisfaction. I worry that because I cannot recover as quickly as the others, I end up missing out on the other guys. I worry that I tend to ejaculate prematurely, especially if there’s a long time gap in-between hook-ups—I get excited easily, and reach climax much faster than usual.

I know these thoughts are neither healthy nor helpful to my sense of well-being and self-confidence. I do hope I can shake them off before they fester and balloon into inconvenient insecurities.

Maybe I should take my cues from some of the participants in the group fun. They didn’t pressure themselves with pleasuring others; they just watched and enjoyed themselves. But I find it a little bit selfish, though.

I will find a middle ground and make peace with my insecurities.

Saturday, February 24, 2018


Remember my “Lumandi Ka, Papa” post? I got to hook up with that boy again, now that I am working in BGC.

One evening I got a message on Grindr—it was from him. He had moved to McKinley Hills (his parents got him a studio to rent) because he now works in BGC too. He had the whole place to himself, so I could come on over. He said he was about to go to the gym, but then he saw my profile on Grindr. So instead of a workout in some 24/7 gym, he decided to have a personal trainer come over—namely, moi—and give him a work out.

And yes, I did get to fuck and cum inside him—wearing a condom, of course.

Wednesday, February 21, 2018

Cuts Like A

I guess I'm a glutton for punishment.

I must have gotten my masochistic streak when I was still in my teens, a student always on the unrequited end of several one-way streets. After falling for straight guys one after the other, I adapted the attitude of, "Better I know things early than be led on. Better just tell it to me straight."

* * * * *

I've always had the hots for him for the longest time, but he was in a long-term relationship. Even so, he always took time to like almost each and every one of my Facebook posts, no matter how mundane they were to me. So I mistook that for interest; can you blame li'l old me? And for the past few years he's been working out regularly, so now he's even yummier.

Last night, lo and behold, I saw him in the mall with a different guy, not his partner. That got me curious, so I messaged him, and we got to chatting online. I found that he broke up with his partner of 11 years last January, and he was "just out on a date."

I thought, this is really is it! Maybe at the very least, we can hook up, and I'd get to live my fantasy of doing it with someone of that borta-level. But if it can lead to more, well, why not?

On hindsight the "date" part should have tipped me off, but he said it so nonchalantly, I didn't think it was anything serious, like it was their first date together. Also at the start of the chat he kept calling me "sir" which, to be honest, isn't an issue with me. But that should also have triggered warning bells.

After talking about why they broke up, I segued into my spiel. After he told me he was always in a hurry while his ex's pace was too slow for him, I joked, "Naku, dapat siguro pumila na ako sa iyo, bago ka pa magka-jowa na bago."

His reply? "Hahahaha," then changed the topic.

I wasn't going to let him get away that easily. "Noon pa ako attracted sa iyo," I messaged back.


I was getting the hint. My better I know things early than be led on, better just tell it to me straight attitude kicked in. I offered him a way out: "Pero kung hindi mo naman feel, okey lang to just say so."

He replied: "I really like the guy na ka-date ko kanina, sir."

Ayun. At may "sir" pa.

So I messaged back: "Okay, got it. Don't worry, I won't bring it up again."

He replied: "Okay lang sir. Katabi ko siya actually tonight. Tulog na kami. Hatid ko pa siya bukas ng maaga. Good night, sir."

NAMPUCHA. Nang-inggit pa. Stabbing me in front wasn't enough. He had to twist the knife too.

Oh well. I did ask.

Monday, February 19, 2018

What’s Going On?

So suddenly this blog shifted from call center to sex stories. And the header is now different, with a new subtitle, “Just Call Me Daddy.” What’s happening?

Long story short: At the start of my fifth week as a BPO agent, I received a call from a classmate of mine whom I’ve known since grade school. He was looking for someone to help him manage a new creative services team that he was setting up with a foreign partner, a creative agency based in England. Was I interested?

I received his call on a Friday. On Monday first thing in the morning, I walked into the HR Dept. and handed in my resignation letter and my headset. Before lunch time I was officially resigned from the BPO company. They said I needed to go to their head office in Makati towards the end of April to pick up my final pay check. Three months to process a minuscule fraction of what their company earns in $US?! Jeez.


No, I did not get to hook up with anyone from the other accounts in the BPO. (I came this close, though, with one guy. But our schedules couldn’t align, and we ended up ghosting one another.) To be honest, I did fantasise about it prior to joining the BPO. But in reality, it’s more difficult to just hook up with your fellow officemates.

So now I’m working in BGC. It’s quite a distance from Marikina, and I’ve learned the hard way that it’s best to leave home before 6am. I hope one of these days I can find a place of my own within walking distance our office. I saw a male dormitory near the office; if I decide to be a bedspacer there, I wonder what stories may come out of living with three other guys and sharing a common shower room?