Short story #6

Virtually

“This is David, after the beep, you’ll know what to do”

[ Beep ]

- I cannot believe you turned off your fucking phone! You say whatever you want and then just vanishes and turns this shit off? Well now you will listen to what I have to say, even if it’s through your fucking machine! I am beyond pissed off with what you did! You are a fucking coward, that’s what you are! You call me every name in the book and then just turn around, turn off your phone and go to fucking sleep, and you let me speaking alone! Honestly, sleeping beauty, I am disgusted about…

[ Dial tone ]

“This is David, after the beep, you’ll know what to do”

[ Beep ]

- Do you think I will give up? No, I won’t! At least until I am able to say EVERSTHING I want. I am disgusted to know I was your boyfriend one day, to have kissed you and said I loved you! I am ashamed of myself for loving someone so… So… I don’t even know how to express, David. You are a mean son of a bitch, a mean and crazy son of a bitch, that’s what you are. I am ashamed to cry for you! But one thnig is for sure: all this...

[ Dial tone ]

“This is David, after the beep, you’ll know what to do”

[ Beep ]

- I HATE THIS MACHINE! I FUCKING HATE THIS FUCKING MACHINE!

[ Dial tone ]

“This is David, after the beep, you’ll know what to do”

[ Beep ]

- You know what, David? I cried too much for you. You don’t deserve my tears. You don’t deserve anything that comes from me. You only think about yourself, your empty life with your empty friends, you think you’re the best because you lived in Canada and you think your blog is worth a fucking Pulitzer. But deep down you are a little piece of shit, you are nothing. Every day you show that by…

[ Dial tone ]

“This is David, after the beep, you’ll know what to do”

[ Beep ]

- Do you know what is worse? The worst part is this idiot here, wasting my time, my battery and MY minutes to tell you a bunch of stuff you didn’t have the courage to hear in person. It is obviously easier for you to turn off your phone and leave this moron here dying inside. But I am strong, David. I will not let this affect me, and you know why? Because I am going to…

[ Dial tone ]

“This is David, after the beep, you’ll know what to do”

[ Beep ]

- FUUUUCK! SHIT!!! FUCK YOU DAVID AND FUCK THIS MACHINE!

[ Dial tone ]

“This is David, after the beep, you’ll know what to do”

[ Beep ]

- Look, David… I think you got that I am very upset with all this shit. But I won’t be lean to you, because you don’t deserve anything, not EVEN my compassion. That is why I will be evil to you, I will record lots of messages in your inbox until it is completely full, I will make your life hell on earth! You will live to regret the day you gave me your number!

[ Dial tone ]

“This is David, after the beep, you’ll know what to do”

[ Beep ]

- Guess what? It’s me again! Now you will see that I can be a bitch as well. I wanted to love you, I wanted to be your husband one day, I wanted to be with you forever, but you want war, don’t you? So war it is! I don’t like to fight, but poke me and you’ll see what…

[ Dial tone ]

“This is David, after the beep, you’ll know what to do”

[ Beep ]

- Seriously David, couldn’t it have been different? What went wrong with us? Can’t you see? Can’t you understand that I love you? We had everything, we could be together forever, but you act like a jerk! Why, David? Just tell me why!

[ Dial tone ]

“This is David, after the beep, you’ll know what to do”

[ Beep ]

- Look, David… I love you, fact. Independent of what happens next, I need you to know that. I want it to work between us, I want to be ok. Don’t you think we could be ok? Don’t you think we can try? Maybe we could talk, Dave. I know that you love me and I love you, so what else do we need?

[ Dial tone ]

“This is David, after the beep, you’ll know what to do”

[ Beep ]

- Dave, I know what to do.

[ Dial tone ]

“This is David, after the beep, you’ll know what to do”

[ Beep ]

- Dave, it’s me, Gav. I am ringing the bell and I know you’re in. Forget everything I said, I have flowers and I am sorry. Let’s try again, babe?

Short story #5

For the sake of disclaimer, I promised not to lie to you and I will keep that promise: this story is not mine, it did not happen to me. But my good friend let me borrow it, so all is forgiven. I will still do the narrative in the first person though, so don't think about me when you read it. Imagine my friend. Although, now that I think about it, you don't know my friend, so imagine someone else... A hot Hollywood actor, if you will.

It is a simple story, really. I once went on a blind date with this guy, his name was Phil. This is obviously a made up name. But that doesn't matter to the story, so... I met Phil through a friend in common, and my friend set us up for a Friday evening. Phil was single and ready to mingle, looking for a boyfriend, and I was looking for "whatever happens".  My friend, quite the cupid, realized that we were perfect for each other and made it happen. My friend also told me stuff about Phil, as I probably believe he told Phil stuff about me.

- He's 26, lives alone, works in the marketing department of a Telecom company, he's a Sagittarius (yes, we were in our zodiac phase. It's over now, don't panic).

- Do you have a picture?

- Yes, here. What do you think?

- Oh, he's cute!

- Right?

- Do you know anything else?

- Like what?

- Come on, give me the dirty. What he's into?

- I don't know, but I think he's a versatile. Like regular stuff, sucking, wanking, you know, the whole package...

- I want the dirt!

- Well, ok, I didn't want to scare you off, but there's a rumor in the office that he's... You know what, nevermind.

- Bitch please, don't make it get it off you!

- I don't know if it is true, and besides, I shouldn't be telling you this beforehand. Where is the magic of finding out?

- Magic? What the fuck are you going on about?

- That thing where you get to know each other, discover stuff together, cultivate your feelings for each other...

- Why do you have to be such a romantic? You know we will probably fuck in the car right after dinner, don't you?

- Ok, but promise me you will still give him a chance after I tell you!

- Oh my, what is it? Is he into golden shower? Eww, even worse?

- God no! Don't be disgusting! The rumor is that he's into some spanking...

- You mean with like force and blood and getting him purple?

- What is wrong with you? No! Just some light slapping in the face. Maybe a bit hard, maybe leave a mark. But no blood!

- Well, you got me scared, I was expecting something big.

- For some people this is a big deal.

- I never did it, or receive it. I am not sure I would be into that, but I like to keep an open mind.

- His roommate told me that he overheard him having sex, and he heard some slapping sound and he kept saying "harder, harder, in my face"

- That is naughty! I'm kinda turned on now...

- Of course you are. Should I go on and tell him to meet you Friday?

- Sure, why not!

And here I was, Friday evening meeting "spank me harder" Phil. He was very cute, very sweet and did not look like someone who was into being slapped in the face. But some people say that the quiet and sweet ones are also the kinkiest, so you never know. 

Throughout the dinner we talked about several stuff, and I tried to bring up sex-related topics but I could never find an opportunity. I started to feel like I'd get back home with a serious case of the blue balls and masturbate my problems away, but then, when we finished desert, he said:

- You are very handsome. Let's continue this at my place?

And, just like that, we were making out in his couch. Clothes started flying off, hands grabbed stuff, stuffed rubbed on other stuff, mouths were going around body parts... At some point he started sucking me - I am not getting very detailed because this is not porn - and he looked at me:

- Are you enjoying it?

- Oh yeah.

- Wanna make it hotter?

(Again, this is not porn, I swear)

There we were. This was the sign. He wanted me to slap him. So, as to test the water, I started slow, giving him a gentle blow in his cheek. He moaned and I thought I was in the right path. So I slapped him a bit harder. Another moan, I guess he was really enjoying it. Lets see how far I can go, I thought to myself. I was getting harder and harder, and the moaning was getting louder and louder. Then I really got all into it, slapped him with the strength of those villains from Mexican telenovelas, one of those slaps that would leave a red mark on his face for a couple of hours. Yes, I was enjoying it, judge me.

But then he stopped and looked up, sobbing and with tears rolling down his face. And he told me the five words that still hunt me to this day:

- Why are you hurting me?

Yep, he was not enjoying it. I was actually hurting him. I apologized profusely and said that I thought he was into it, he kept sobbing and holding his cheek, asking what was wrong with me. Needless to say, the night was ruined. I could not tell him why I thought he was into spanking, because that would throw my friend under the bus, but give him no explanation would just prove to him that something was wrong with me. I did what any normal human being would have done: gathered my clothes and got the hell out of there. 

I did call him a couple of times, left him some messages, but I am still waiting to hear back from him. I guess he is scared. Wouldn't you be? As for my friend, I never trusted him to set me up anymore. Next time, who knows, I can end up in prison for assault. And you know what happens to guys like me in prison. Yeah, no thanks.

Short story #4

Back in my 20s, somewhere in the 2000s, the internet was a boom, but not a sophisticated boom as it is today. There was no grindr or tinder (or whatever you kids use nowadays to get some). Where I lived we used to go online to chat rooms to find a fuck. It was a weird drill, to be honest. The rooms were categorized by location, age and interest. Also people would use nicknames that would already give away all the break the ice part. You would see things like bigtopcut26south - this gentleman wanted everybody to know that he had a big circumcised penis, liked to penetrate and didn't like to be penetrated (although everybody is a top until you meet in person - it was like that back then and it is still like that now), he was also 26 years old and lived in the south part of town. It's was a very time is money kind of approach, if you think about it.

I was always fairly successful in those chat rooms and the night in question would not different. After some chats and maybe a couple of hours talk (yes, millenials, the world spun slower in the old days) I got myself a date. We managed to meet in one of those convenience stores by a gas station close to my place. The place might sound strange but I sweat it was where the cool kids used to hang out. GO figure. Anyway, after a couple of beers and chat, we got into the car and headed to my place.

I still lived in my parents house, but my parents were in the countryside and my siblings were somewhere else, which not only I don't remember where, but also makes no difference to the story. Point is, we got home and made love by the fireplace. Except that it was average sex and there was no fireplace. After the sex he asked if he could shower and I went to the kitchen to grab something to eat. He came behind me about ten minutes later and asked me to prepare him a sandwich as well. So far, nothing out of the ordinary.

Then he said something about spending the night. That sounded a bit odd, but not something out of this world odd. Maybe he enjoyed the sex more than I did and wanted to go further. I was not looking for anything serious, but the possibility of sex before sleep and then a cure for my morning boner lead my dick to make the decision on my behalf. In your 20s, the combination of quantity over quality and teenage hormones finding their ways in the body can influence the way our penises think. Be aware, kids.

Our hero then took a backpack he brought, and I noticed it was a bit larger than I would have expected for a one night stand. He asked me if he could do some laundry, with some excuse that he came straight from work and he was busy and would not have time the next day etc. Ok, this was getting actually strange now. But still plausible, said my cock. But on a closer look, I noticed that the backpack had more things. Like toiletries, some dry food (like cookies and ramen noodles), and other stuff you would expect to take on a trip. If I would have looked into his backpack without talking to him, I would have imagined he lived in another town and was here visiting. He also asked if he could grab some cookies and cereal bars from my kitchen cabinet, always using the excuse that he would go straight to work. It all looked very professional and well thought, like if this was not his first time.

But for my first time that night, I decided to investigate. I asked him about his work and he gave me vague answers, trying to evade the topic. Now, with my peeing instrument put to rest, I started to think that he was a runaway or maybe a serial killer on the go, and I came up with some lame excuse to ask him to leave. I just remembered I had a meeting early in the morning and needed to prepare things or whatever, this stuff happened like 10-12 years ago and this is not the important part... What I do remember clearly is that he went mental. Said it was too late, and his roommate could not open the doors for him anymore, and he did actually like me and he was not hiding anything. Then he started crying. Like a baby crying, with hiccups and everything. I could not decide if I was shocked, pitiful or angry.

I went decided not to fear for my life and go with angry, and I told him I would call the police and would have him removed from my house (imagine the headlines on the next day paper). He looked scared and I gave him one last chance to come clear with me. And what he said I would have never imagined in a thousand years. The answer tonight, at 11.

He asked for water and started explaining me that he was actually homeless. No, you did not read it wrong. He was living in the streets. He would go online on an internet cafe from a friend and hook up with guys, sleep at their place, get his laundry done, get some food and live to see another day. He said that the only thing he had was his looks and decided to use that in his favor to survive. The whole plot of pretty woman came to my mind and I told him I would save him, take him out of the streets, make him a millionaire and a Hollywood star.

He was firm but polite when he said he was not looking for that. In fact, I was not the first one to offer him a "better life" and would probably not the last one. He was happy with his life and I was not the one. You see, ladies and gentleman, not even offering house, food and the chance to become a movie star I was a good catch then. We did still have sex that evening, because dignity is something I came from the factory without. We also slept together and had sex and breakfast the next day. I also offered to buy him some groceries and gave him some money. He took it, although it felt like he was offended somehow. Apparently lying to get a free bed from a stranger is ok, but accepting money from said stranger is not. No clue where he drew the line, but he still managed to have more dignity than me. Win.

I did actually see him once again, a couple of years later. He pulled the same scheme with a guy I knew of mine. The scheme had evolved and it was more sofisticated, and he did look nicer. I remember he asked me to be cool about it, but I told him to come forward because the guy would be take it well. They ended up dating - let's not go into what the guy has that I don't, because reasons... I lost contact with them both after that.

They are probably on facebook, everybody is on facebook these days. Even my parents. Might look them up at some point. Maybe I'll rub on his face that I am married now. Right, I think I just figured out why he did not pick me. 

Short story #3

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Short story #2

My history with prostitution is very brief: I paid for sex twice and was paid once. This is the story of the one time I was paid. As you can see, I already gave away the grand finale, so I kindly ask you to please feign surprise when you read it. Thanks!

Back in the 2000’s there was no Tinder, Grindr or apps to meet people. But people still met for casual sex, that is just as much part of the human experience as eating or pooping. I met people using internet chat rooms (I promise to write about it at some point) or going out to bars or clubs. On this specific night; I did go out with my friends to a bar. We had a good time, met interesting people, kissed some mouths (yes, with an S), but nothing good came out of it. So I decided to go to the streets and offer myself for money. And that is how I got paid for sex. The end. No, just kidding. That is NOT what happened.

What actually happened is that we went to another bar, way lower in quality than the first one. But we did not care, as long as the beer would be cheaper and the music would be louder. When you’re in your 20s, quantity is way more important than quality. And there we were, a group of about 12 friends, drinking and having fun.

At some point in the night, a group of older guys arrived at the bar. Note that when I say older, I mean probably in their mid-late 30s - Oh, the irony! Fact is, those guys were well dressed, wearing suits and polo shirts, looked nice and well groomed, and obviously did not belong there. We didn't really belong there either, so who was I to judge. In addition, they also looked very heterosexual, and I don’t mean this ironically. Now I am judging. And because we were gays and girls, the suits came to talk to the girls. And when I say talk, I hope you’re reading “make inappropriate comments thinking they are saying the best lines in the world”. Straight people, you know.

Suddenly I realized that my ride home was leaving with one of the suits. And we are talking about a time way before Uber or smartphones, so I would have to find a way (and by way I mean bus or taxi) to get home. One of the guys, the hottest of all in my humble opinion, was also the biggest loser of them. After all, with all the hotness and money, he did not need to be interesting. Or so he thought. Consequently, he was not scoring with anybody, and I'm not even sure if he was trying. He said it was getting late and he was going home, maybe he could drop me off somewhere. And I swear that in that moment I did not understand what was about to happen.

What was about to happen became crystal clear to me about 5 minutes later, as soon as we entered his car, when he expressed how sad and frustrated he was to be going home without a fuck that night. By putting my hand over his trousers. Typical “straight guy” move: look how hard my dick is because of all your female friends, now I have to go home alone… I put on my puppy eyes and casually said something like “I suppose I could help you somehow”. All very porn movie style, like when the girl says she doesn’t have money to pay her rent. He started with the classic “are you crazy, I am not into guys, I just wanted to show you my frustration bro, etc etc” – it’s all a game with straight people wannabes. Just get out of the closet and make everybody’s life simpler, for fucks sake!

But back then, in my 20s, where quantity is a bigger deal, I played the game and we ended up playing other naked games in his bed. Needless to say, that guy was like a pancake: very easy to be turned over. And I am not speaking metaphorically. But this is not porn and I won’t share the dirty details. You will find those details in my other book called “The memoirs of a Gaysha”. We had fun, it was better than I expected, to be honest. But right after we finished, he started not being into guys again, got up to have a shower and told me: I will call you a cab to take you home.

Then it happened: he opened his wallet, took some money – I don’t know when or where you are reading this, what is your currency is and how much it is worth, but let’s say it was something like a third of the price of the best iPhone today. It was a considerable sum. He put it on the table and said: thank you, leave your number and I might call you again some time. And I trust you keep your client’s identities as a secret… Straight to business, baby.

I would love to say that in this moment I got up, made a big speech about the right of the homosexuals and women and the world peace, or I threw the money on his face, or I looked at him deep into his eyes and took my wallet made of gold and diamonds to show him I am rich and did not need his money. But I did not do any of those things. I just smiled a professional smile, said “of course, discretion is key in this business”, thanked him and took the money.

I mean, we never said anything about payment or costs, because let’s face it: I am not a male prostitute. But there I was, after a fun night with my friends, a hot (although loser) dude wanted to fuck and would end up with some money in my pocket, I don’t see why I would say no. He was willing to pay and I was willing to accept it. And if you’ve been reading these stories, you already noticed that my gravestone it will not say “here lies someone who had some dignity…”

But in my defense, I got that money and created a fund to help straight wannabe guys to come out of the closet, and today I run a multinational foundation called theironcloset.org. And if you don’t believe me, congratulations. Because it is a lie. I got the money and spent it with my friends the next night. And I obviously told everybody about it.

To conclude, the moral of this story is “together we stand, divided we fall”. If you don’t get it, you probably missed the whole point. Read again and you will see.

Short story #1

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