librans are the most accommodating people by nature. being the conflict-adverse people that they are, they would rather avoid making a scene, and perhaps just make lemonade out of the miserable lemons life hurls at them. now when you combine this 'i-would-rather-not-offend-people' philosophy of life with sexual intercourse in the gay context, you end up having very 'accommodating' tops in more ways than one. this is of course, if they are not bottoms already in the first place. well i'll be the first to admit that i'm one such indecisive person.

i have this very bad habit of not telling my sex partners that i don't like something that they are doing, having or doing and having. this results in the other party having a hell of a time mostly, while i end up with also a hell of a time, but well... in not so good a sense. take this one time when i had sex with a stranger whom i met via the IRC (writer's note to self: i'm always having sex with strangers met via the internet). the pulling factor that got me interested in sex with this guy was the venue: a prohibited establishment. one that even had real-life security guards that were paid a minimal wage to carry batons and tasers and ensure that no horny homosexuals like me would trespass the classified grounds. the stranger in question, was obviously one of these security guards.

so there we were in a changing room of sorts enjoying the thrills of security guard sex in the middle of the night. all was going well and dirty until i proceeded with the anal intercourse. i immersed my thing into his thing and proceeded with the fuck. it wasn't long before the funky smells of onions and garlic pierced through the air with the same force and intensity as the way my thing pierced his thing. i assumed it was a bad case of someone's puke in the toilet. but it wasn't till the smell of onions, garlic AND water-based lubricant (and i'm not lying about this!) that hit me that i realized the source of the olfactory disturbance. i'm not very easily thrown off by funky smells, after all, i inhale a wide spectrum of them on a daily basis. bile, piss, shit, pus, necrotic feet, sloughy wounds, etc. you name it, i have prolly smelt it. but this combination of garnishing and lubricant was definitely a page on my list of smells.

apparently, our dear security conveniently forgot about douching himself before the sex. the good news is that i had protected sex (thank God for rubbers!). the bad news is, that i'm still wondering till today what he had for dinner. i'm thinking it must have been some really hardcore rendang (he's Malay). but just like 'why is God so unfair?' and 'why do Asians have such miniature ding-dongs?', there are some questions in life that will always be left unanswered. this is apparently, gonna be one of them.

but really, i get very irritated by people who don't clean out their asses before a fuck. it's rather disgusting actually, having to stick my junk in a trunk that's filled with gunk (NB: it's rhymes!). i have had personal encounters with other bottoms who crave unprotected anal intercourse, but seriously have problems with their pre-sex ablutions. ugh. i'm just extremely grateful that my genitals have been good friends with condoms for many years. still, i could have told the security guard how i didn't enjoy the olfactory treat and the amount of gunk that was slathering around the condom and just stopped with the fucking. but, i didn't.

being a crowd-pleasing libran and having worked for quite some time in a health-care sector that had an over-emphasis on service standards, i felt bad having to tell a bottom that he had a smelly and gunky ass. i mean, you don't go around telling strangers that they have big asses and emit bodily odours. and it's rather ungentlemanly to just stop sex mid-way when both parties have pre-cumming hard-ons. plus you definitely have to consider the fact that i was trespassing on secure grounds and my only key to getting out of the guarded establishment without a police records was the owner of the ass in question. it was thus that i decided to fulfil my top-ly duties and neglected mentioning the smells. i'm sure he prolly smelth it anyways, given that i took several loud sniffs.

i went home at the end of the day feeling rather proud that i had made one person in this world happier and managed to get my rocks off at the same time.

now if only i could transition this 'get my rocks off at the same time' bit into the hospital setting...


i'm not exactly the most sentimental of sorts and neither am i the clingy boyfriend type. but i have to admit that i like making small talk with strangers. mostly after a fuck. you've got to admit that tongues tend to be looser when one makes small talk after anal intercourse. maybe it's the intimacy garnered through the act of it or maybe it's just the sweaty 'oh-i-have-achieved-an-orgasm-with-a-complete-stranger' feeling that washes over people after sex. or perhaps it's just the strenuous aerobic activity that the oral cavity has been put through. either way, prior experience says that people tend to be less guarded about their private lives after sex.

of course, you can't just simply take everything these strangers say at face value. i mean, in closeted ol' Singapore where there are more gossipmongers than fishmongers, one has to be careful about what one reveals about oneself. personally, it's seldom that i am Jonathan the Registered Nurse when i make the rounds at the sauna. my name is Frank. and i have worked in a variety of jobs ranging from marketing assistant to pastry chef. of course, most of the jobs that i've picked are memorized generalities that i've garnered from other people. everything else though, is the truth. simply because what i'm gunning for when making small talk is not so much about the amount we talk about, but rather an honest bond between two complete strangers who have no prior knowledge of each other other than penile length and whether the other party is good at deep-throating. i guess that's the magic of small talk. plus it helps when one is rather keen for a second round.

i'm got to admit that i'm not always supportive about talking and sex. especially talking during sex. i've done it at the sauna with one other gay person who preferred making small talk during intercourse. of course, small talk is a loosely defined term here when you consider the content (oh yeah, you like it huh? come on, tell me you like my ass tight, yeah, oh yeah, you like it huh?) and volume (OH YEAH, YOU LIKE IT HUH? COME ON, TELL ME YOU LIKE MY ASS TIGHT, YEAH, OH YEAH, YOU LIKE IT HUH?) of the small talk involved. i tried spanking his ass to shut him up, but that only encouraged him in turning up the content and volume of things.
this brings to mind one of my regulars who is an excellent bottom with the flexibility of a Chinese controtionist. i enjoy sex with this particular guy because we have done out-of-this-world positions that deserve a page in the kamasutras. plus rather than be a passive bottom who just lies around like a dead fish waiting to get screwed, he keeps his hands busy with nipplework. and boy do i love nipplework. that's extremely deserving of brownie points in my books.

unfortunately, all sex partners despite all their perks and what they can do to keep your nipples perky, always have a flaw of some sort. take me for example, my penis can't go anywhere lower than 70 degrees. i nearly fractured my penis once while attempting an indescribable position with the first ex-boyfriend. let's just summarize that i heard a sickening 'crack' (sorta like when one twists an ankle) and i was rather out of action for about a few hours. that's my flaw. and oh oh, i have a strong preference for silent 'it's-oh-so-quiet' sex rather than (insert hentai-inspired screams and moans).

that is the one flaw that my regular has. he's what i would call, a screamer. the type that makes everybody in the sauna stop dead in their tracks and give some comment like 'crazy motherfuckers' before they continue with their sex. plus the content of what he says DURING anal intercourse can irritate me to bits sometimes:

Partner: Do you like to fuck me, dear?

Me: Yeah.

Partner: Can you call me darling?

Me: Yes, darling.

Partner: Will we meet up the next time for sex, dear?

Me: Of course.

Partner: You forgot to say darling.

Me: Sorry darling.

Partner: Do you like to fuck me dear?

Me: (gives several hard thrusts)

conversations and terms of endearment totally throws me off the sex track. my hands can be at different ends of the body and doing different things at the smae time. but ask me to make intelligible and loving conversation in the heat of sex and i am no better at it than a virgin Chinese teapot. well, except that my spout is a tad bigger than your average teapot's. so why i don't i tell my regular that i don't like whatever he's doing?

for one, sex with him is extremely expensive. we always do it at executive suite hotels because he values his privacy. when one gets to bring home L'occitane shower samples from executive rooms without having to fork out a single cent, one simply doesn't complain about volume and content. plus it's not like i don't have any bad habits or traits that my regular doesn't like to begin with. i have the occasional sinus when the air-conditioning is too cold. and you can imagine what it's like to have sex in the freezing temperatures of your typical executive suite in Singapore.

but that's the magic of the libran's traits. he's accommodating and will somehow want to avoid any form of conflict. he will compromise or at least suggest a more win-win solution to problems. in this case of my screaming/loving regular and me, i play my part and humour him with my 'dears' and 'darlings'. and on his part, i signal to him to hand me the occasional piece of kleenex while keeping my bits perky, if you get my drift. both of us are happy and have really quality sex.

there are a few things though i won't be compromising on though. non-protected sex with strangers is a definite no-no. a one-time experience with onions, garlic and lubricant is enough to put me off for life.

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