I wanted to get to know he-who-is-trying-to-father-my-firstborn well, so what we did was we locked ourselves up in my room for 17 hours. We did, uhm, things you don't do with your friends. And we talked more for the other two hours.
I mean, there's nothing wrong in talking with "the buddy," right? We've been doing the kinky for this number of weeks now, and I think it's just about freaking time. And yeah, this could be one of the more personal issues that I'll be posting.
6AM to 4PM: We slept. We were drinking beer before that, and he was already asleep an hour before we locked ourselves up. Breakfast was coffee and buns followed by a healthy serving of cigarettes, and then we called it a day and started the marathon. He was out cold as soon as he hit the sack while I managed to push in some extra time on the PS2.
I was able to sleep for maybe seven hours, give and or take a minute. I was either busy studying his face, or bitching about how the dude was hogging all of the ventilation.
4PM to 430 PM: I woke up to his hand holding mine. He asked for a glass of water. We had a few cigarettes. We were drenched in sweat and a whole plenty of mounting horniness. We talked about the mutuality of this, uhm, association and discussed the shelf life of our little buddy system.
We decided to see more of each other. Not that we haven't seen most of each other already.
430PM to 6PM: We both made love to the PS2.
6PM to 930PM: We had dinner in bed. We then smoked some more, turned off the lights, lit one mother of a scented candle, and listened to a lot of Freddie Mercury and the Backstreet Boys. He wanted to hear something "sentimental;" the heat of the moment inspired Larger Than Life without even pausing.
We then talked about the first time. And then the second time. I interrupted the train of thought by introducing house rules if we were to let this buddying survive. It's supposed to be, and it IS going to be, strictly exclusive. Third partying will pretty much destroy this partnership. Yeah, you can't always be too sure, and at this point after more than three weeks of seeing each other, I might be having a thing for this dude already.
Underscore might. Or italicize. Or put it in flaming bold letters, but for the love of good sex, don't slash it out. That's important.
And then we, uhm, snuggled and talked about kissing. He then thought about doing some roleplay. He wanted to act asleep, I was supposed to steal a kiss, and then he'd kiss back. It was pretty okay, but I wanted to pep things up and do a little scripting and rape the moment with a little movie-making drama. Some of the scripts included "Akin ka lang," "Huwag ka nang papalag," and "Ang alat mo!"
Talk about anti-climactic. Not that I'm hellraising for personal hygiene; understand that we've been in the same room for more than twelve hours now. So there.
He was altogether hilarious with his segues, but it didn't exactly kill the moment since we had a total of 21 takes total. Yeah, "takes," as in "Lights, Camera, Apoy sa Kuko ng Samar, Take 1."
Kissing is nice on sufficiently soft lips. It's nicer with 21 tries, er, takes.
930PM to 1030PM: We turned the lights back on, and I kicked his ass in another hour of PS2.
1030PM to 1230AM: We were so much in need of fresh fresh air, so we decided to abandon the confinement and we went down to smoke. We talked. Yeah, talked, as in the verb "talk" in its past tense. Yeah, talk, as in "communicate." We shared stories and compared problems and all that good jazz, went inside to do a little more talking, and we had dinner.
I learned that you can share actual sentences with the "buddy" and not just limit the conversation to prolonged vowel sounds.
Then I found out that I need to be somewhere by 130AM, so we took a bath. Yeah, "we," as in there was more than one person who took a bath.
We parted ways at somewhere past one that same morning. And unless I begin to forget what he looks like, I will be seeing him again.
2 Days After
Momel starts his personal counselling and contemplates two-timing:
Momel to Self: Come to think of it, I DO tend to forget his face from time to time, but I still remember the kiss. I know I'm smiling as I'm thinking about going out and start looking for the better kisser. And I'm thinking about doing that right now.
3 Days After
In a chat conversation with one of my better offline friends (BOF):
[06:01] BOF: nd wag mo cia kakahiya,once n pinasok mo n yan
[06:01] BOF: tulungan mo n lan
[06:01] BOF: n magbago
I don't want to stay put. I'm sure there is someone better. For now, I have someone to practice with.
I know I haven't introduced any form of history about the guy. I wouldn't. But this string of events consummates one "buddy system" that has been going on for a certain amount of time. Feel free to ask. You know I love hearing from you people.
7 Days After
I started downloading Utada Hikaru's "First Love" because of this line:
I'll remember to love you taught me how
Seriously! You grew up believing that a FuBu is good for one thing and for one thing alone. And then something happens which completely slaps your bible, leaves you thinking, and then makes you wonder "What if?"
First Love is this Japanese song with some English verses in the chorus. I tried, but I wasn't able to memorize the damn song in its Japanese goodness. I believed that this sort of memorization would be a breeze, what with my resonating success with the Voltes V theme, but it turns out that I wasn't really cut out for this sort of thing.