Monday, February 12, 2007
What a Dream...
Ok, I never published the scintillating Part III for the Big Boy because things just went awry for some reason (maybe more about that when I am inspired to write- remind me to talk about class consiousness and the shelf life mentality of Singaporeans but I don't hold it against anyone; things are just they way they are) when I returned to Singapore some three weeks ago.
I think it is fate. First, the cancellation of the dirty trip in Asia, followed by the past six months of playing titillating electronic love tennis and then my learning about his impending marriage. I guessed it right from the start and my timing postulation seemed very accurate!
No wonder he was stunned when the friend mentioned that Big Boy might have an announcement to make.
"What? Are you getting married?" I asked half-mockingly and yet kiddingly.
It better be good, I thought to myself.
I put the friend and himself on the spot there unwittingly.
Then he came up with a lame-ass excuse about him having bought a new car and was I not informed?
The friend looked just as uneasy, probably realised he shouldn't have blurted something like that. I smelled something fishy but decided to spare the men from further social embarrassment.
See, I always feel people's embarrassment for them even when I know I have the right to seek an explanation. I guess in this instance, ask no questions and I'll be told no lies. I hate putting people in a spot unless I absolutely have an axe to grind i.e. when someone attempts to sully my reputation and malign me for something that I haven't done. Now that would be a different story altogether...
Funny thing is we do have fate and no destiny. I mentioned about my upcoming trip to Macau and guess what? He is supposed to be there! Then he mentioned that he wouldn't be because he has a wedding to attend. But whose wedding is it, I wonder?
No other than his!
And from my intel, the boys' trip to Macau is supposed to be his buck's night. How can the groom-to-be not show up right?
Strangely, the done and delivered deal (albeit not sealed but soon) was ommitted right till the very end of our final meeting. I thought we left things off in a very nice and friendly way. No hard feelings whatsover that our tryst never happened. Well, his girlfriend sounds GREAT for him- a bit of a Stepford wife but she will embellish his social status and career. What more can a man of his stature and social self-consciousness ask for? He goes for damsels.
I believe in the DOG-GOD relationship theory. Ok, it's something that I've coined. One party in the relationship tends to be the dog and the other the god. He needs to be the god despite his inclination to please and pleasure. Still, he likes to be loved and worshipped because it makes him feel more of a man.
Whereas, I will never quite be a dog, even if I tried. It just doesn't exist in my nature. So I fold and bowed out graciously because I truly buy the notion that every pot has its lid and I will never be the lid for him and vice versa.
I call this good sportsmanship. Even amoral P has some principles. Graciousness marking one of P's hallmarks of virtue. Heh!
Ok, enough said. You voyeurs have up to this point been anticipating about a dream that I am supposed to tell you about, right? So without further ado, I shall get to the point...
****
Unexpectedly, I had a dream last night about Big Boy.
It was a really bizarre dream...
It started with me being in a public park of sorts. I was in torn and tattered clothes. My face and body soiled with dirt, hair in a mess. I was a homeless tramp wandering and scavenging for food. There were other similar looking tramps there.
Next to the park was an office unit. It was where he practices his profession.
I had to meet him there, possibly for him to take me out to lunch. I tried to brush the dirt on my arms and attempted to re-arrange my hair to look a little neater.
I went in and he had three secretaries. One was my best friend B who made a secret knowing eye contact with me. The secretaries went into his room to get himout and we supposedly left for lunch....
*blank- cannot remember what happened. Fast forward*
We were back to his office. For some reason, there is a bed in his private office and the lunch must've made me really sleepy and I fell asleep there.
When I woke up, I was completely under the blanket with Big Boy holding it and in the dark, he peered down at me. Apparently, he had been doing something intimate with me while I was sleeping.
It was either he was fucking me or he was fingering me.
Up to a point, he pulled out his dick and brandished it before me. Then he started jerking off and the cum exploded in my face, marking me his territory. He looked satisfied and laughed gleefully, in a chauvinistic way.
I wiped off the cum with my hand. My state of mind there was that since he paid for my meal (and I was just a street tramp all dirty and homeless) and he was a man of professional status, well, I have no great loss. In fact, I should feel somewhat grateful that he still wanted me.
Then I felt myself growing a little bit attached to him.
He got up and said he had to go to the next appointment. He had to go watch a musical in the glass auditorium next door with his boss and client. I asked if I could come along. He looked irritated and perhaps felt that I was a social embarrassment in my tattered clothes and with my dirty appearance. He said no to me rather firmly (like the Saturday night in real life where he was firm with me that he didn't want to meet me the next evening).
So I stood outside at the glass auditorium and watched him walk down the stairs and ushered to his seat where he met up with people of his kind.
For some reason, I continued to hover outside the auditorium. However, I was resolved that I would get over him and the neediness for him fast dissipated despite still having some residual feelings for him.
When he got out of the auditorium, he came up to me and attempted to placate me for not taking me with him by kissing me on my lips. I pulled away from his sudden switch in affection as I felt uncomfortable. He got offended and that look of anger of rejection became apparaent as it was written all over his face.
*dream fades away*
****
I wonder if there are any semblances to real life of how things become.
Since he didn't get a shot at cumming on my face in real life as he has propositioned to do, ah well, he got me there in the dream. Heh!
On my last night before I was due to leave my homeland, V and I sat on the front porch of my house as we recounted on how different my personal journey has taken me than what I have envisaged two and a half weeks before.
"He could have been that lucky guy, indulging in all the fun with you", V said, that cheeky half smile on her face.
"But he had sabotage himself."
Then again, we figured it must have been fate. So many false starts and attempts but still we are still at level zero, for two consenting and willing individual with substantial carnal appetites and spontaneity.
I guess if that happened, I could have been quite happy to be his for that 2.5 weeks home. Dr. Jekyll & Hyde and that Manila tycoon beau would not stand a chance in the equation because to start of with, they were not factored into my grand plan of indulgence. The grand scheme of things would have changed really.
However, it serves a blessing in disguise. What am I to do with a man who is getting married? I have no inclination or the audacity to think that I am so irresistable that someone would renege his marriage for me. It kind of reminded me of my experience with the Man. Where would that leave me except a cold and hollow void? I see the pointlessness of it all.
So there you go, things do happen for a reason.
Maybe he couldn't handle it and this part of his inability which had betrayed his speech and his actions led him to getting further away from being sync with me.
And I too became uncomfortable- like having expectations of an overhyped persona, as V would put it, that I was led to believe in that other stuff that he was made of. And vice versa.
See, I did also made it so easy there for him- all ready to be his but he falters with self- oubt and doubts and who ends up being the Enemy?
You got it right! Himself!
P.S. Big Boy, at least you got to shoot your cum in my face, even if it only existed in my dream. You had a thematic moment in my stream of subconsciousnes there!;)
Ok, I never published the scintillating Part III for the Big Boy because things just went awry for some reason (maybe more about that when I am inspired to write- remind me to talk about class consiousness and the shelf life mentality of Singaporeans but I don't hold it against anyone; things are just they way they are) when I returned to Singapore some three weeks ago.
I think it is fate. First, the cancellation of the dirty trip in Asia, followed by the past six months of playing titillating electronic love tennis and then my learning about his impending marriage. I guessed it right from the start and my timing postulation seemed very accurate!
No wonder he was stunned when the friend mentioned that Big Boy might have an announcement to make.
"What? Are you getting married?" I asked half-mockingly and yet kiddingly.
It better be good, I thought to myself.
I put the friend and himself on the spot there unwittingly.
Then he came up with a lame-ass excuse about him having bought a new car and was I not informed?
The friend looked just as uneasy, probably realised he shouldn't have blurted something like that. I smelled something fishy but decided to spare the men from further social embarrassment.
See, I always feel people's embarrassment for them even when I know I have the right to seek an explanation. I guess in this instance, ask no questions and I'll be told no lies. I hate putting people in a spot unless I absolutely have an axe to grind i.e. when someone attempts to sully my reputation and malign me for something that I haven't done. Now that would be a different story altogether...
Funny thing is we do have fate and no destiny. I mentioned about my upcoming trip to Macau and guess what? He is supposed to be there! Then he mentioned that he wouldn't be because he has a wedding to attend. But whose wedding is it, I wonder?
No other than his!
And from my intel, the boys' trip to Macau is supposed to be his buck's night. How can the groom-to-be not show up right?
Strangely, the done and delivered deal (albeit not sealed but soon) was ommitted right till the very end of our final meeting. I thought we left things off in a very nice and friendly way. No hard feelings whatsover that our tryst never happened. Well, his girlfriend sounds GREAT for him- a bit of a Stepford wife but she will embellish his social status and career. What more can a man of his stature and social self-consciousness ask for? He goes for damsels.
I believe in the DOG-GOD relationship theory. Ok, it's something that I've coined. One party in the relationship tends to be the dog and the other the god. He needs to be the god despite his inclination to please and pleasure. Still, he likes to be loved and worshipped because it makes him feel more of a man.
Whereas, I will never quite be a dog, even if I tried. It just doesn't exist in my nature. So I fold and bowed out graciously because I truly buy the notion that every pot has its lid and I will never be the lid for him and vice versa.
I call this good sportsmanship. Even amoral P has some principles. Graciousness marking one of P's hallmarks of virtue. Heh!
Ok, enough said. You voyeurs have up to this point been anticipating about a dream that I am supposed to tell you about, right? So without further ado, I shall get to the point...
****
Unexpectedly, I had a dream last night about Big Boy.
It was a really bizarre dream...
It started with me being in a public park of sorts. I was in torn and tattered clothes. My face and body soiled with dirt, hair in a mess. I was a homeless tramp wandering and scavenging for food. There were other similar looking tramps there.
Next to the park was an office unit. It was where he practices his profession.
I had to meet him there, possibly for him to take me out to lunch. I tried to brush the dirt on my arms and attempted to re-arrange my hair to look a little neater.
I went in and he had three secretaries. One was my best friend B who made a secret knowing eye contact with me. The secretaries went into his room to get himout and we supposedly left for lunch....
*blank- cannot remember what happened. Fast forward*
We were back to his office. For some reason, there is a bed in his private office and the lunch must've made me really sleepy and I fell asleep there.
When I woke up, I was completely under the blanket with Big Boy holding it and in the dark, he peered down at me. Apparently, he had been doing something intimate with me while I was sleeping.
It was either he was fucking me or he was fingering me.
Up to a point, he pulled out his dick and brandished it before me. Then he started jerking off and the cum exploded in my face, marking me his territory. He looked satisfied and laughed gleefully, in a chauvinistic way.
I wiped off the cum with my hand. My state of mind there was that since he paid for my meal (and I was just a street tramp all dirty and homeless) and he was a man of professional status, well, I have no great loss. In fact, I should feel somewhat grateful that he still wanted me.
Then I felt myself growing a little bit attached to him.
He got up and said he had to go to the next appointment. He had to go watch a musical in the glass auditorium next door with his boss and client. I asked if I could come along. He looked irritated and perhaps felt that I was a social embarrassment in my tattered clothes and with my dirty appearance. He said no to me rather firmly (like the Saturday night in real life where he was firm with me that he didn't want to meet me the next evening).
So I stood outside at the glass auditorium and watched him walk down the stairs and ushered to his seat where he met up with people of his kind.
For some reason, I continued to hover outside the auditorium. However, I was resolved that I would get over him and the neediness for him fast dissipated despite still having some residual feelings for him.
When he got out of the auditorium, he came up to me and attempted to placate me for not taking me with him by kissing me on my lips. I pulled away from his sudden switch in affection as I felt uncomfortable. He got offended and that look of anger of rejection became apparaent as it was written all over his face.
*dream fades away*
****
I wonder if there are any semblances to real life of how things become.
Since he didn't get a shot at cumming on my face in real life as he has propositioned to do, ah well, he got me there in the dream. Heh!
On my last night before I was due to leave my homeland, V and I sat on the front porch of my house as we recounted on how different my personal journey has taken me than what I have envisaged two and a half weeks before.
"He could have been that lucky guy, indulging in all the fun with you", V said, that cheeky half smile on her face.
"But he had sabotage himself."
Then again, we figured it must have been fate. So many false starts and attempts but still we are still at level zero, for two consenting and willing individual with substantial carnal appetites and spontaneity.
I guess if that happened, I could have been quite happy to be his for that 2.5 weeks home. Dr. Jekyll & Hyde and that Manila tycoon beau would not stand a chance in the equation because to start of with, they were not factored into my grand plan of indulgence. The grand scheme of things would have changed really.
However, it serves a blessing in disguise. What am I to do with a man who is getting married? I have no inclination or the audacity to think that I am so irresistable that someone would renege his marriage for me. It kind of reminded me of my experience with the Man. Where would that leave me except a cold and hollow void? I see the pointlessness of it all.
So there you go, things do happen for a reason.
Maybe he couldn't handle it and this part of his inability which had betrayed his speech and his actions led him to getting further away from being sync with me.
And I too became uncomfortable- like having expectations of an overhyped persona, as V would put it, that I was led to believe in that other stuff that he was made of. And vice versa.
See, I did also made it so easy there for him- all ready to be his but he falters with self- oubt and doubts and who ends up being the Enemy?
You got it right! Himself!
P.S. Big Boy, at least you got to shoot your cum in my face, even if it only existed in my dream. You had a thematic moment in my stream of subconsciousnes there!;)
Comments:
<< Home
P, i have serious concerns with the way your subconscious chose to project your persona (as a lowly, DIRTY tramp, eek!). And still he flounced about in his pristine digs, despite the juvenile (and rather vile) cumming in yer face, which we both know of course, is a tidbit of information he had volunteered in real life.
If you like, use my prescription for putting losers behind you: contempt. It's quite effective and leaves only a mildly bitter aftertaste. But...knowing you, you would be too nice to stoop to that!
If you like, use my prescription for putting losers behind you: contempt. It's quite effective and leaves only a mildly bitter aftertaste. But...knowing you, you would be too nice to stoop to that!
"...our identity is partly shaped by recognition or its absence...and so a person or a group of people can suffer real damage or real distortion if the people or society around them mirror back to them a confining or demeaning or contemptible picture of themselves."
- social theorist Charles Taylor on "evaluating prostitution as a human-service occupation."
Post a Comment
- social theorist Charles Taylor on "evaluating prostitution as a human-service occupation."
<< Home
