First Lust Never Dies

Apart from the boob-tube hotties of the 90s, my first lust was actually our houseboy. Yes, you read it right, our houseboy. I met him way back 2002, when I was 16 years old. The first time I saw him, I knew that I needed to get my hands on him.

Now before any judgment is cast, let me describe him - he was 5'6, very moreno, had all the right muscles in all the right places (his biceps bulge every time he moves his arms), and had a very flat stomach with the barest hint of a six-pack. His skin was like dark chocolate, smooth and brown, and he was very manly. He was very Machete-like, and I knew that he was the key to me fulfilling my fantasies.

I actually froze in place when I first saw him. This was in our small internet cafe, and it was closing time. I was on the ground floor, waiting for my dad to finish in the second. And there he was, mopping our floor, in his jeans and white undershirt. Since the cafe was closed, the air conditioning had been switched off, and the place was hot, literally. I was watching him do his stuff, going to and from the washroom to empty his pail of water, when suddenly, he stopped mopping and removed his undershirt. He was sweaty and every inch of his body was glistening in sweat- his arms, biceps, chest; his smooth dark body was shiny with perspiration.

I couldn't breathe; it was like all my fantasies came rushing back, and then I knew, there and then, I needed to touch him. I was very nervous when I began talking to him (both with anticipation in touching his body and fear that, at any second, my dad could come down), learned that his name was D, and he was actually a stay-in in our cafe. He mopped while we talked, and all the time, I was just staring at his shiny dark body. Then all of a sudden, he turned (to wipe a table, I think). Overwhelmed with the need to touch him, I just reached over, laid my hand on his back, and felt all that muscle under my hand. And I knew that I was in lust.

Wondering how far I can go (all that time, my heart was pounding in my chest, I was both excited because I was actually touching his body and afraid that he might not like it), I slid my hand down, felt his sweaty muscles, and got elated when he didn't object. I was in heaven, when suddenly my dad came down, and the moment ended.

I thought that that would be the first and last I'd get to touch him, but I guess my lust had other plans for me. =)

Gaywakening or How the 90's made me gay

My fascination with the male body and all its glory began in the early 90's, when hunks Gardo Versoza, Cesar Montano, and Jestoni Alarcon graced my TV; them in their skimpy undies and glistening hard, tan bodies. Seeing them in their briefs made me hot and filled me with an overwhelming desire to touch them, taste them, feel them. My earliest (and best) fantasies always involved them, a rice field, the sun, and me riding their hard, sweaty bodies- me on top, feeling every inch of raw flesh inside me. Their intense gaze would always, always get me excited, and seeing their tans, accentuating every muscle, every inch of man-hotness made me mad with desire. And I knew that I was wired differently. That I wanted and lusted after men; hard-bodied moreno men. And mind you, I was just 5 or 6 years old then.

Cut to 2002 (I was 16 years old) when I started really being with these kinds of men. The need to enact the fantasies of my childhood still withstanding, I found out that there was something really exciting about seeing my hands caressing their bodies, their tan skin in sharp contrast with mine. Their muscles bulging, veins protruding. And it always has to be me riding them, which I think alludes to the added feel and thought of me having power over them, that I am in control. Because after all, sex is power.

I wonder, what was your Gaywakening?

An Intro

Inspired by local bloggers, I am now attempting to come up with my own blog, to record and analyze things that happen to me. I will be using this blog to record one of the things that really fascinate and interest me- sex; hence the name i heart sex.

See for me, sex is like a conversation- it could range from extremely interesting to downright sad. Like conversations, sex uses motions, gestures, sounds, and words, in random order, but the thing is- sex is primordial, sex is not guarded, sex is genuine. It is more personal than any kind of conversation. It is sacred, it is dirty. It is an irony all in itself. And it is here in this blog that I want to lay down what i have experienced so far, to try and analyze and compare experiences. Like a sex study of sorts. 

Only this blog will focus on my kind of sex- man to man sex.