Thinking About it All

If I could do away with sex and its consequences, I would have been a better man. You see I am caught between this desire to be completely devoid of sexual desire and this temptation to accept sex and regulate its effect on my behaviour.

I think you can call me  a sexual man. The time I was sexually active and had sex with men, I ensured I had sex at least once a week. The men were fun – naked and sexy. We would moan and sigh with passion writ large on our bodies. Oh man! Those were heady days – frolicking for hours on the bed, licking each other’s nipples, sucking mutually, and making love to each other; yes, those days were positively hedonistic. And I did have a streak of longing in me then. I longed for a partner to be with me forever and not go sleeping around.

Well, that did not happen. The men always wanted to have sex with someone new and since I did not know the ropes to foil such sexual antics, I would feel hurt, feel used, and then go sleep with other men. In the end, I turned out to be just like the men I deplored.

Then – one fine day – something happened and I began to be repulsed by my behaviour. Consequently, I stopped it all. And it has been like that for a while.

I do get these impulses to just get out and go sleep around with men at the gay bar. But decency has the better of me now. And I don’t let myself get carried away.

Yet, a part of me longs for nakedness, for some raw uninhibited sex, for some loving, for some intense sex…

Sigh! The Fallen will never leave you in peace, will they?

Unto Thee I Lift up My Soul…

At times, I feel rather sexless – as if I don’t need sex at all. And some other time, there is this urge – not commanding in its nature, but persistent merely by its presence – to strip naked and play with my penis as I bring in a naked girl on the bed in my head…

Men I did try it with. But well, men don’t do it for me now. It’s the women that arouse me and make me gape at them, at their breasts, at their luscious curvy behinds…

You see this is supposed to be lust – and hence a sin of no small measure – according to the Catholic Church. And the Church insists on marrying if one burns in, and burns with,  such desires.

I don’t want to marry. I have slept with men and women usually  - at least the ones in India and the ones I know – will never be able to reconcile to the fact that their husband was a homosexual at some point in his past.

Now where does all this leave me? Rather what does all this leave me with? Well, I can always join the priesthood, but I don’t think myself worthy of that position: Serving the Lord needs absolute purity of heart and mind and soul. I cannot vouch for that kind of purity in my being.  I can always sleep around, but that again is a sin I want to get away from.

There’s masturbation: That too is a sin. Sigh! It’s tough being a Catholic. And strangely, that’s not deterring me from being one either.

I really don’t know how am I to deal with this explosion of conflicting priorities…

Perhaps, the Lord will help me sometime soon…

On Men…

I don’t know what is it with homosexual men. There’s always a propensity in them to like an extremely handsome yet dumb bloke – all because he is an extremely handsome dumb bloke.

Of course, the liking is stymied to their having sex with them. And once that’s done with, out flies every liking for the bloke. I have seen this happening often. In fact, it’s happened so regularly, I am rather wary when men approach me. Not to say I am handsome, but I do pretend to be dumb and I am not half as bad in the looks department.

A friend of mine did mention the same thing to me the other day. “You know,” he said, “it is so heartbreaking to know that all I am good at is the sex. They never seem to want to know me beyond the bed.”

I find it difficult to decide on whom to date for this reason. I need to be called after the sex and I want to be treated well. I think it’s hardly anything to expect when I am reciprocating the man’s urge in bed.

But well, expecting a need to be fulfilled and fulfilling it in reality are two very very different events. And I doubt they ever show a tendency of meeting at the same table!

Those Moments Unhindered

At times, I want to just strip and lie naked with several men. The moment I let that thought in my mind, I am all excited and want to not let the vision go away. But the very next second, in walks my rational self and I know the naked vision is a figment of my unbridled lust and passion…

If only lust were thrown in an abyss far far away from Earth, I will have been a monk – a nice gentle holy monk – by now…

The Man Now and The Boy Back Then

Men – they are a fascinating species. At least to me, they are very fascinating. Of course, I am talking of the ones well built and who walk with a swashbuckling style. I never can do all that you know. Nor am I that powerfully built. So that muscular physique has been quite a fixation. I think from that arose my lust and passion for men. I remember the time I was in school, there was this guy who would sit next to me sometime. He did not have much of a face to look at, and yet, he was so sexy. He was well built too – okay not well-built; moderately built and he had the nicest of asses that ever came my way in the ninth standard. It was round and I could make out the shape of his bikini briefs through his trousers.

Oh, I had a crush on him for sure. But even then, I knew it would be futile to waste my time on him. He was a Moslem and he was – for lack of a subtler way to put it – spectacularly dumb.

So, though I loved to imagine we both making love, I knew I would never go beyond the lovemaking.

Fortunately, nothing happened between us. I was shy and worried about the way I was thinking about men back then and he was out and out a romeo of the worst order and degree. So, though he did at times show more than just a flicker of interest in me (He wanted me to come for the overnight school picnic and knowing what he had in mind, I faked an excuse and stayed put at home.), I always pretended to not understand and let the matter fizzle away.

I was thinking of him today. What was it about him that made me imagine him in my bed? I think it was his voice (a heavy bass one) and his countenance. It was a very raw earthy style of walking that he had and that – I remember very well – made my knees knock with excitement the moment he was around.

Oh it was very juvenile of me to think all that then. And very impulsive too. Okay not impulsive, it was more like I having a sudden attack of an obsession for that mass of manly flesh.

Sigh! Well, I am glad to have grown up. After all, I don’t think I’d like to carry around a truckload of mistakes, would I?:)

The Man on The Bus

I must have mentioned I take the bus to work. Well, so today, as I sat and tapped my feet to Ibiza and other few ditties, I happened to notice a pretty young boy – who had just matured into a man – doing the same thing. Only that he was standing and bobbing his head to the beats his earphones let him onto.

Of course, that isn’t quite the point. The point is he is extremely cute and has so sweet a look on his face, it’s impossible to not stare at him for a minute or two. That’s exactly what I did: I let my eyes take in that look and I think I also smiled. He acknowledged my presence and I did notice that he did keep looking my way. But, my dear readers, this being India and the men being rather wary of being caught flirting with another man – the recent changes to the law notwithstanding – this man too was no different and so, he glossed his flirtatious glances with a pretence of looking around the bus.

Well, so be it then. I see him quite often in the bus I take to office, actually. Perhaps, when I am 50 and when he too is around that age, he might just drop his inhibitions and come and say hello to me.

Just thinking.

I am thinking about the guy I met yesterday. Fellow’s sweet and sexy as I had said before. His voice is a little weird – I can’t place my finger on what exactly is weird about it but I know it’s a little weird. But I discount that, he is – frankly – damn sexy. Yes, so I’ll sleep with him for sure. And probably, spend my life with him too.

Good Lord! What am I saying? Well, it happens all the time. I like a guy and as I am talking to him, I have played out scenes from an entire relationship in my head. I see myself naked with him as he caresses my lips. I see myself straddling his hips as he moves onto me to make love to me. I see us spending time lying on the sofa just doing nothing but staring at the ceiling, really glad that we are in each other’s arms.

Whew, that is a lot of seeing! But well, yes, I see all of that!

I just hope it comes true. I WANT it to. For I need a man to love me and to be loved by me.

Sigh! It feels so alone to be single these days. The feeling just pulls me into a pit of boredom and sorrow….

Thought So Free…

I am bored. I am half willing to drop my pants and have sex. But I will not, all because I am in office. At times, I get this urge to just pick the first attractive stud I lay my eyes on and make out with him. But because I live in a society that advocates propriety of behaviour, I do not let myself get carried away by that thought.

What will it be like if I just let go of my inhibitions for one day and make out with several men? I’ll be exhausted for sure. I already feel exhausted as I think and write about it. Yes, the nakedness of all those men is tempting and I think I should be aroused. But I am not. My member is still asleep and doesn’t seem to show any signs of waking up right now.

So no, so much of sex – though fascinating – is not something that will captivate my senses forever.

Sigh! I am so so bored man! I could eat up the desktop and not bother I am ill-treating company property. Okay wait a second – why is it that I am this loose in my thoughts and seem to have no way of controlling them into anything fruitful?

Perhaps, it’s because I myself am free and bereft of any attachment. I am not married, nor am I dating anyone. So it’s easy to just wander around without bothering about the consequences.

Now this is a consequence I have to deal with ASAP. Or else, I will just sigh and shred into a thousand silvery strands of a silk sheet that once glittered and shined in the Sun.

Fling That Away

Men are so stupid. This guy who has been after me for a year or more now happened to call desperately yesterevening. I was in no mood to meet him but his persistent phone calls broke down my defence and I gave in.

We met at 6:15 in the evening and we drove around. He said he missed me and wants me. And then he added that he loved me. I told him as I sat there straightfaced that I was not about to get swayed by that talk since he was anyway to marry.

“No see,” he said, as he got the car engine to shut up, “I am not sure about that.”
“That,” I said, “is as good as saying you are to marry.”
“Why is life so complicated?”
‘Well it isn’t. It’s simple. You make a choice and then deal with its consequences. Not that you do not know what those consequences are!”

He began to drive again. “I don’t know what to do,” he said, “I cannot say no to marriage.”
“Then you will have to say no to me. If you marry, it changes our equation.”
“It will?”
“Oh yes it will. I won’t be able to meet you like this – for sex.”
Had he to be in love with me, he would have at least felt offended. But no, he went on to the next question : “How about we talking? Will you talk to me if I marry?”
I said yes but I knew I would not. That he would have to realize.

Anyway, he drove on. I had to get off at Sion and he had to go further, to Worli. But before this, we had to pass through the Bandra Kurla complex.

Now lanes in Bandra-Kurla complex – at 7:30 in the evening – are pretty quiet and lonely. In fact, they are more or less deserted. He parked the car at a spot off one such lonely lane, we got into the back seat and began to make out.

“I love you. I love you,” he panted as we tasted each other’s lips.
I ignored that and kept kissing.
Moments later, it was “Marry me marry me. You don’t know how much I want you.” as our tongues searched each other.
“Ho ho ho ho,” I snickered amused that he thought me so daft, “you don’t know what you’re asking for.”
“Why is life so complicated?” – this as he was about to let go of his trousers.
“I don’t know. I don’t see it that complicated.” And I let go of my briefs a moment later.

By then, we were making out a little more and he wanted to fuck. I hate that so I ignored that as well. This he took notice of and then decided he had better take what I was giving.

So he climaxed a few minutes later, I took a while to do so, and then we got dressed.

We walked about the area for a while making mundane conversation. I also went through my thoughts and actions and realized all this sex was of no use. It was meaningless, really. I was lusty and so was he. Infact, I caved in to his plea to meet me all because I was lusty. Once the lust passes, I feel sick and repelled by the person who helped me consummate my lust. And I was feeling no different about this fellow either.

I hinted at that as we drove home. I said I was in this phase wherein I was doing away with random sex and was letting my old idea of having sex only with my life partner creep in.

He did realize what I was trying to say and so vehemently opposed my idea. He began to tell me how stupid it was and how I must not control myself and how my hormones would make things difficult for me.

“Well,” I said as I kept a stone face all throughout, “I am doing something that works well for me. This works for me and so I will do it. The rest can go to hell.”

“Don’t punish yourself.”
“Hello? Who is? I was punishing myself by doing things that I thought would do me good. But they haven’t. So it’s best I go back to stuff that made me feel good about myself.”

Now to that he did reply but I had already shut down my hearing system. I somehow managed to turn the topic to something less interesting and kept it at that till I got out of the car at Sion.

“See you soon,” I said and smiled
“Yes see you and he drove on.”

I know I never shall and I hope he knows he never shall, too.

Marry Me, Marry Me a Little No More!

We sat at the table to breakfast. I had no particular topic in mind but wasn’t going to give a cold shoulder to any that Sister Dearest would have brought up.

Right enough, two minutes after half my cheese sandwich disappeared into my mouth, she said she had spoken to Mother ultimately.

“About what?” I asked.

“Well – about that boy she was so keen on making her son-in-law.”

“Oh that fellow! Well, I thought that chapter was closed long back.”

“Well, no it wasn’t until I told her whatever happened.”

Sister Dearest was in touch with the boy in question. She dropped many a hint much against my advice to not do so. And finally, when the fellow did not show as much as a whiff of interest, she dropped the bomb. She asked him – I don’t know how – about his feelings for her or something to that effect.

Well, needless to say, he said: “I don’t know.” I told her then that this was so obvious and she snapped at me saying that Mother was quite adamant she pursue him. Of course, Sister Dearest wouldn’t have pursued the matter hadn’t she some interest in the man herself. But I did not point that out to her. Instead, I just kept quiet and let it pass.

So today, she told me she had to tell Mother about the boy’s answer all because Mother was building up pressure all over again.

“You know,” she continued, “how Mother is our Cate Blanchett (referring to the actress’s role in The Gift).”

“Yes.” I said, “I know. She’s quite a psychic.”

“So the other day when I told her about my grand proposal and its refusal, she had a dream: She met the boy’s mother!”

“Really?”

“Oh yes, and she tells Mother Dearest: Look you daughter is nice. But she’s short. My son wants someone who’s taller.”

I did not know whether to appear amused or entertained or both.

“So,” Sister Dearest continued, “I told Mother if that is the case, then there is no point pursuing that fellow anyway. I don’t want someone marrying my height you know!”

“Yes, that’s true,” I said as I decided to look amused.

“So,” she said with an air of finality as she finished her tea, “it’s settled.”

“What is?”

“That I am a career woman.”

‘Oh come on! It’s too early to say that!”

“Oh no! It isn’t. I am a career woman now. Not that I don’t want to marry. But-”

“-given the crop of men around, you don’t want to.”

“Yes.”

I left it at that.

I picked up my bowl and walked off to the kitchen sink. She had decided already and I wasn’t about to change her decision.

After all, I feel she’s right: I know men too!