:: A little too much Diphenhydramine

"hmmm, I want it all in me", he said; between two pleasure moans.

I just leaned forward, went softly on his shoulder, touched his skin, kissed his neck, and went up his warm, now sweaty body till I reached his ear. I just floated my lips around, letting him feel my warm breath, and said gently:

"Are you sure.. One more time?"

"Yes, baby", he replied; with a very exciting firm tone. I pushed, he moaned, ... I fainted!

........

Some Internet users, not so out of the closet gay guys out there haven't added their profiles neither on gayDar nor on ManJam yet. You should spread your spider web elsewhere, other places where you can catch some other flies, some other boys. That's when I log on to FacePic. If you search for a "any sexuality", "male", "online now", "Cairo" -all the results are crowded with gay people. Over 90% are stamped with the Rainbow. Those who are wrongly mixed in the crowed, say it out loud in their profile: Sorry guys, I am not Gay. He might be bisexual (not my type and they don't exist). If you're not sure about it, then if the "looking for" is saying "Anyone, Anything" -Prepare the cocktails. Yep! He's gay!

I made sure I followed those rules, checked the right boxes, picked the right gay-agreed-upon inputs and looked at the online guys, of course "Only return picture profiles", I am a superficial fag!

"Found 14 matches" -yeah, the same old faces. The same old guys. I knew this one, met that one, heard about this one and slept with those. I left the page open for a while; so other gay hunters might catch me; if any are hot enough and don't display their pictures. A couple of minutes later, Bingo! One new message received. I clicked, waited, opened, checked the details. He was younger than me. I don't mind age, when it comes to a fuck; it's cool.

" Hiiii. I like ur profile. can we chat ??? add me on msn xxxxxx@hotmail.com "

Well; why not. At least he sent me a message in English, good English. Believe me some people do make horrible mistakes even in such short version of introduction. I just felt like I would give it a shot chatting with him, and if things go bad, or not okay, my block button is very handy. Bless you MSN for making this creation in such a quick, easy to find place! He was online by the time I added him. A flashy, dancing HI popped up. "Yeah, one of the MSN transformers.. ugh! Bad start", I just said in my head. We talked, introduced ourselves. He commented on my picture, so I did the usual, scrolling them one after the other. A way to say: Thanks! What about yours? Since I never ask for someone to display his picture, I just wait till he feels guilty enough to put it.

He felt guilty. They all do!

"That's me. What do you think?"

What do I think? I think we should fuck tonight. FREE?

"Nice picture. You look cute!", I replied, calmly. As a matter of fact, chat doesn't make the other party see your face reaction, otherwise some drooling, disgust, ignoring and other either positive or negative behaviors would have been really embarrassing in different situations. Tim was a cute boy, a bit sexy. He used to live by the Red Sea for a while; since his parents worked there, which made him acquire this amazing tan all over his body, and magnificently showing on his face, making his eyes' hazel color glow. I felt more interested in the chat, I wanted to know more about him and why not having a coffee sometime! He was so much quicker and bolder than me:

"Have you seen The Hills Have Eyes?", he asked.

That horrible, disgusting, boring, stupid, pointless, ...

"Great! I saw it, but like to watch it again. Do you want to go?", I answered; just thinking about how this night would end.

"Yeah, I'd love to."

I had a date! City Stars Mall, 8:00pm.

I parked in K14, made sure I am well perfumed, hair well done, clothes nicely on me, not too gay, but I ain't straight either... well, all is cool. I dialed his number while taking the electric stairs up to the mall's ground floor. Mazen answered, telling me that he already bought the tickets and waiting for me in Alfredo's Café. "3 minutes and I'll be there". Alfredo Café is a all-in-red café in City Stars. I never sat there; but the deep red color coming out of it always attracted my attention. I came near it, swept the place with my eyes: first, I am making sure that nobody else I know is around the place, second, I wanted to see how he looks like; before he fixes the way he sits, or the way he is yawning! Mazen was sitting calmly in a corner, looking at the menu.

"Hey Mazz!", I said, lively while sitting down. I do like big entrances!

"Digg, how are you?", after the His and Hellos, and Goods and Fines. I ordered my Latté, do you have Vanilla flavor shot? (since it was my first time in that Café). He ordered Hot Choco. We talked for a while, he was a good talkative person. A little too talkative sometimes but entertaining. It was 9:15 already. We had to go up to the movie theatre so we'd catch the boring movie. I was dragging myself in there, anything for this Cutie!

The movie began. Mazen made sure he'd make use of any scene that showed gore to grab my arm, my leg or just "accidentally" hit my croach. I made sure I provided him enough "care", after all, his nice D&G shirt and Jeans were a real extra turn on for me. His tan was great. His proper English and he had one of the smiles that make want to kiss the lips that formed it. I felt good, a guaranteed new, hot date is here.

It was in the entr'acte when his cell rang. Mazen's brother was checking on him and making sure that he hasn't forget the "thing" that they had to do later that night. Is this a rescue call? I am so suspicious by nature, I believed that and felt totally off. For the second part of that motion picture where stupid zombie creatures rip each others' heads, drag corpses and burn cars, I was rushing every second to end quicker than the other so I'd leave and call it a night. A rescue call! What a total classic! I really wanted to tell him that he is dismissed!

Finally, something horrific happened in the movie's ending sequence (I had never been that relieved by a horror ending scene before), got up and started leaving the hall, followed by Mazen. Once we've reached the exit; I tried to say quick byes to end this quicker, so he'd feel more comfortable. "Don't you want to have another coffee and a smoke?", proposed Mazz. What the? Do I get wrong vibes? I just excused and said that I have a migraine, which I usually suffer from. Mazen walked with me till K14 underground car lot, said good bye and kissed me a wet kiss on my cheek. What the? Do I still get wrong vibes?

While driving home, my cell announced incoming message, I predicted it was from him: Thanx for this great nite. I'd love knowing u more. hugs & kisses. Well, I am not getting any wrong vibes! Damn. I was about to totally waste a hot fuck! I replied his message with my usual "*smile* and sure!". Once I got back home, Mazz was online. We had a quick chat online about how horrible the movie was, and how he wasn't that bored with the movie because I was there (!)

A couple of days passed. A couple of SMS's and Chat sessions were exchanged between both of us, till that night. I came back home around 1am after a 48 hours non stop work related problems. I was too tensed to sleep, yet too tired to stay awake. I just decided to take two sleeping pills to help me relax, prepare a cup of herbal tea and go online for half an hour till the pills' effect started. Mazz was online.

"Hi Digg. How are you?"

"Good! What about you, Mazz?", I replied while sipping some of my mixed herbs tea.

"I'm leaving tomorrow afternoon to the Red Sea. My new college semester will start!", replied Mazen.

"Oh, well, how long will you stay?"

"Around 6 months, not sure yet!"

Damn! That's long. What if ...

"Would you like to come over? They are showing Monk tonight!", proposed Mazen. Yes! I love Monk! I want to watch Monk! I want to Monk out with you.

"OKay, on my way."

I had to stop by Merto Market to get some condoms; essential! and then drove to his place. He kept calling me every 5 minutes making sure that I am on my way, that I am not lost and to hurry up! I parked down his place, went up and knocked on the door. Mazen opened, he looked cuter than before.. maybe because he was wearing these more comfortable dark blue boxers and white cut shirt? Or is it the light, reflecting on his tan and hazel eyes making him impossible to resist?

We sat down, watching TV. Monk was investigating some murder and doubting the dead guy's wife. I made my expectations, Mazz ruined the show because he already saw that episode in its first run. Still, I kept watching the episode while Mazen was offering me some wine. While Monk was announcing to Sharona that he cracked the case, Mazz offered to "uncrack" my muscles!

"I do good massage.. would you like to try?"

"How pro are you, big boy? Are aromatic oils involved?"

"... and soft music!", he replied while getting up and showing me the way to the bed room.

I just took off my shirt, slept on my stomach and he was "preparing" the correct ingredients. He inserted a Matt Nathanson Best Of CD, dimmed the lights and sat on my back. He poured some of the oils he had brought and started rubbing my back.. slowly.. warmly.. letting me feel my muscles detach.. my head relaxing with "I saw" coming out of the speakers.. remembering that I took two rather strong sleeping pills!

Shit! I should fight this urge. I should not sleep. I am awake! Action should start! I moved around, took Mazen between my arms and we started kissing. He tasted good, he smelled nice aromatic oils and the music sounded coming from heaven. I am not going to the light.. I am staying awake!

We kept kissing for almost an hour.. we undressed each other slowly, making sure to enjoy every second, every moment between each other's arms. I reached down to his blue boxers, slipped them off slowly. Went all the way down his body and made sure to discover every inch of it. Mazen just took one of the condoms and decided I'd use one of them. He expertly installed it, and slowly the things were totally connected. He was hot, I was hot. We sparkled!

"It was great", said Mazen while kissing my neck. Yes, it was categorized under Good Sex. I did enjoy it too. He's pro! We kept cuddling for almost an hour, talking about many trivial subjects while I was resisting an impossible, unexplainable urge to sleep. Pills, hot drinks, wine, massage, soft music and a blow... I couldn't focus anymore. My body was revolting. I just wanted him to shut up for 5 minutes so I'd sleep. On the contrary.. he decided to start another round.. another wild sex encounter. I wanted to; but could not move a muscle. I just tried to recall any extra charge I have hidden in any part of my body. The last charge was used for ejaculation. Now.. I am drained.

I just tried.. got up.. started kissing his body. I was regaining my strength. There is something about sex that makes you alive. Don't they say best cure for the flu is sex? My eyes were getting heavier. I was acting slower... he wanted to have another intercourse. I put my condom, one more time Digg, one more time and that's it. He's too hot to resist. You'll not see him in the coming six months..

"Yes baby" .. and I lost consciousness.

I woke up, it was sunny! Mazen was sitting next to me, looking at me, now wearing another blue boxers.

"Heeey habibi. How are you now?", said Mazen, with a big smile.

"What time is it?", I asked while making sure I am covered, now that I was totally nude and I feel uncomfortable.

"It's almost 11, let me bring you a cup of coffee!".

I went to the bathroom, had a quick shower and dressed up. Mazen was sitting in the balcony with his cup of coffee and one on the table, inviting me to go and drink it all, one shot, to remove this noisy sound in my head.

"I am sorry.. I was really tired", I started the conversation while looking at him.

"I know baby, I just pushed on you.. I couldn't let you go!", he answered, while laughing.

We finished our coffee and I drove him to the Bus station so he'd go back to his college. We kept chatting together, till a couple of days ago, Mazen told me that he is getting committed to someone.

"Ahmed, do you know him?", he asked. Ahmed? Well yeah! I know every "inch" in Ahmed!

"I met him once before, he's a good guy", I replied.

"Well, I really like him and we're starting something together."

I just closed my eyes, remembered how it was with Ahmed.. mmm..

... yeah, they'd fit together!

:: The Frog Prince

"... when the wrong one loves you right!" -Céline Dion.

I still remember that time before I got committed; when I was so weak and vulnerable. I longed for a warm hug and a thrilling touch. A tender look, a soft word. I got committed soon after and I longed for freedom. Fun. Naughty life and partying like crazy. Looks like we are never satisfied with what we have.

We used to gather in this UN representative house, Human Rights department (yeah, and Gay. Aren't all Human Rights activists gay? Who has the teddy bear heart, the positive thinking and the sense of giving but us, the Rainbow Generation?). I was around my 19th year back then, my Golden Years! That was when I first met Mahmoud. He was a very elegant, sophisticated guy. Such a classy person in the way he talks, entertaining while he speaks, full of wonders when you listen to him. Mahmoud used to go to Gym, play Tennis and swim regularly. He had a successful career and very good friends. He used to speak many languages: English, French, Spanish, Italian, German and Arabic of course. He's been around the world, experienced more! I am sure he used to be a drop dead gorgeous guy 45 years ago, when he was 23 years old. Yes, he was around his 68th year.

Mahmoud was attracted to me first time I was seen moving around that gathering. Back then, lack of experience, I couldn't read this in his eyes. He was gran pa' .. Cute gran pa' who is so friendly and nice. Cute wrinkled gran pa'. For the first couple of months, we used to talk every Thursday, when we used to meet in that gathering. He was fun. I found a familiar comfortable face in the crowd, specially that it was one of my very first home gathering experiences. Yeah, the guy was falling.

Halloween night: we were partying, lots of drinks, lots of heat, lots of hunks, one Mahmoud! I drank two Beers, one Bloody Mary, Scotch sec and 2 shots of tequila with some guy in between. Payback time! I just vomited in the bathroom. Mahmoud, of course who was keeping his eyes on me and following each and every step I did, came to my rescue quickly. He stayed there, tried to help me. "Leave me alone!" -how embarrassing when someone is next to you, puking in the toilet. "For God sake give me some privacy", sure all this sounded perfectly nice in my head: I didn't have the power to say it out loud. Between two throw-ups, I managed saying: "I .. *pwaaaaa* .. going home .. *pwaaaaaaaaaa* .. now ... "uughhhhh*" -Mahmoud just took me; and drove me in his car to my house. I couldn't drive of course. He wouldn't let me. "I will get your car tomorrow".

"Thanks gran pa' " -It sounded good in my head, I remember that.

SMSes showered me the next morning. He cared a lot about me, yeah he did. 68 years of experience, of course he knows how to make me feel special. I felt grateful for what he did, I felt that someone is really giving me the care I wanted. Yep. My missing gran pa' love that I never had. If he only knew how I felt towards him. If I only knew how he felt towards me.

He started taking me out, Opera house, Music concerts, his friends; whose ages were at least three times my age back then, fancy dinners that were preceded by fancy lunches and of course the pack should have a very fancy breakfast, in his house. His fancy house. Mahmoud designed it, inch by inch. Good sense of decoration he had, back in the 50s!

For some reason, Mahmoud used to enjoy hanging out with young boys. For me, I was pretty much mature for my age. I used to respect him a lot. On the other hand, other boys he used to hang out with used to treat him in a very childish way.. and the freakiest thing is that he used to act like them too. He was a big baby, and I am not saying it in a cute way.

By that time, I was depressed. My friends advised me to get into a relationship, and since Mahmoud has already told them how he felt, they proposed him.

"He cares about you in a magnificent way.. He's really into you"

".. but I am not really feeling anything towards him, but good friendship", yeah right, that's what I *only* answered. Damn. I was so naive back then.

"Try it Digg, just try. Who knows! The guy is really into you"

"Try? I cannot gamble with feelings", perfect sense of responsibility I had. Though I liked it, someone head over heels and me completely cool about it. And that's what I did. A time to know each other prior to any commitment, knowing each other on a higher, different level.

He hasn't changed, on the contrary, he was warmer, better caring and deeper in feelings; as well as he was a sex machine. A dried sex machine. Cum used to come out in a powder form: I needed a solvent. He was all the time asking for sex. On the couch. On the floor. On the bed. In the kitchen. In the car. In the elevator. For crying out loud even next to the UN representative guy on his bed while he was sleeping (don't judge me. We were traveling together, the guy slept in our room and The Frog needed to have sex, in this very moment!)

NOTICE: The following sequence might be inappropriate for some readers: If you suffer nightmares, a weak heart, photosensitive epilepsy, straight, kidney problems, digestive difficulties; please skip it.

Sex: The poor me used to sing for his sexual (now not anymore) reproductive tool in order to wake it up and make it face the crowd. I learnt the Hindu snake dance music and body motions just for him. He had the desire, but he didn't have the muscles and appropriate nerves in order to stimulate the right areas in his body. For instance, he might rise his finger, or his left eyebrow prior for his dick to go up straight: some errors in his nervous system. He used to go on top of me and start kissing, all over, all around. His saliva glands weren't working properly, by that time I understood why he used to drink a lot of water (other than preserving himself from dehydration). Then, he used to make sure that we were both totally naked (no glasses) and starts rubbing all of his body against mine, in a motion wave-like way, moaning, yelling, scream, squeezing.. a couple of powder packets are open and.. that's it. He goes aside, takes a deep breath, removing all the sweat he had and I light my cigarette, thanking God that this monosex has ended. The whole process couldn't get longer than 4 minutes (including the dry kissing).

He wanted to try intercourse; which of course ended in a very bad way. He couldn't keep his Pride One up for one full minute, and well, he couldn't handle me, for some prostate problems, it appears.

Result: a Total Failure.

NOTICE: You may Open your eyes now.

I tried to get along with the whole situation, after all, sex isn't the main thing (yeah, as if!) I planed some nice gatherings; some interesting meetings and, most important of all, kept myself from fooling around, though we were just dating!

Later that month, Mahmoud had a business trip to the States, for 3 weeks. I felt uncomfortable, seeing him leave. Who will cripple on top of me? Who will have the fever shakes now that he's gone? I just thought that this will be a great time, for both of us to come clear and touch deep inside. I felt uncomfortable, but free and relaxed during those 3 weeks. I even met some hot guy, exchanged numbers and waited for the right moment to come in order to remember how good, fluid involved sex was like! During those three Holy weeks; Mahmoud SMSed me less and less day after day. I was totally neutral about that.

That night, we went to Cairo International Airport to pick up my Frog, I really couldn't go alone. I begged my fiends to come with me. I didn't want to practice any Hindi actions; or black magic Voodoo spells. I just wanted to let this night pass; and tomorrow morning; we would talk about the whole thing.

"Hey, Mahmoud, let's have coffee", I proposed, the next morning.

"Sure, meet at johnny Carino's?" -he answered, not sensing my vibe.

"No. Marriott Bakery al Hegaz street"

"..."

Now he got it. Marriott Bakery al Hegaz was known among my friends and I as the "break-up" place. Even our straight friends used to dumb their girlfriends in their. The sound of "Bakery al Hegaz" was enough to make your saliva dry (Mahmoud didn't have the option to feel that effect, sadly).

Half an hour later; we were there. Mahmoud felt it coming. I talked, calmly. "I cannot accept, one day, while we're together, that I'd cheat on you. I will; I know it. We are not satisfying each other (hah!!!!!) fully." For the first time; I knew where all the water Mahmoud used to drink used to be saved: he burst into tears. This 68 years old guy became, all of a sudden, a 6 years old kid, and I am not saying it in a cute way, either! "Can we stay together, till you find someone else?" -it still rings in my head. Will I ever be that desperate one day? Mahmoud is a great guy; but why is he stuck with the young boys? He could very much date someone his age; or around his age; one of his great friends. They would totally fit together; their trips around the globe, their work, business, mind and life. Why would he always put himself in the same situation with every boy he dated (before and after me)? I couldn't tell him that. I wouldn't tell him that. I just asked for us to remain friends, like we were. I knew the equation is never reversible; he called me once every two days, once every couple of month.. then never again.

Mahmoud, I still keep the old classic watch you gave me. I still keep the silver ring. They both remind me that time, when I was loved right; but not correctly.

:: Gay it Forward

We, as senior Gay Guys, have a certain commitment towards all the new freshly out-of-closet Gay Boys. We should adopt them, lead them to the light, let them evolve from the chrysalis phase to blossom into a magnificent Butterfly; that flies, jumps from one flower to the other; sucking its nectar and cherishing life! We should... Gay it Forward.

We all have been down that road: we were new-comers one day, most of us are seniors by now. There has always been someone leading our way; someone pushing us to have our first baby steps in the Wild Wild Gay World, to accept ourselves, our own orientation. We met Them. We led Them. We suffered with Them.

It was on a sunny day in June 1999 when I was online. Prior to gayDar Holy Shopping Stands; there was Gay.com Heavy Java Chat Rooms. You had to wait a couple of minutes before you click the "CHAT" button and a huge list of countries pops, with your hungry eyes and mouse wheel, you scroll quickly to reach the "EGYPT" section and see the total amount of online people. About 9 guys were there, waiting to be picked, dated, flirted, cybered or whatever fetish they were into! "Let's see what's served today!"

I rarely started any chat with anyone. I always waited there, with my nickname and details, trying to be clear, tempting, raw as much as possible. Finally someone double clicked on helioboy16. I was thrilled, happy, worried while looking at the new window pop-up with a 'hello' as a starter. I looked at the nickname cairo_doctor that was tempting. I quickly typed my 'hi' and decided to check what he has added as details about himself. He was 17, tall, and the details promised a hunk that I will never let go. I was excited.

Back that time, people in Cairo who used to connect to Internet were a lot better than nowadays shit: classier, smarter and of course decent. Thanks to the new free Internet service 0777 or 0707 -anybody now with an Oven hooked with a modem can access the Cyber World. cairo_doctor had good English, a fine style, a classy, respectable way of talking. With my pink-greenish little 16 years old heart, I felt hooked. Delighted. Happy. "Numbers?" Yes of course I'd love giving you my number, Doc'. Come operate on me!

We talked over the phone. He had this deep voice. I drowned. Swam. Floated. Dreamt. Decided to meet him.

"Marriott Bakery Korba street?" -I proposed, since this was the first Café that always comes in my mind whenever I decide dating someone.

"Deal! See you there after.. 20 minutes!"

20 minutes! 20 freaking minutes!! I don't have time to shower, change what I dress a gazillion times and re-shower because I am sweating and feeling worried! I just ran across my house. Reached the bathroom and started humming and trimming (who knows!) while quickly showering.

25 minutes later, I was inside Bakery Korba. It was empty, that time. I stayed.. fixing my eyes at the entrance door like a hawk. A hunk should come in.. A hunk should come in.. A hunk should.. A Barn Door came in!

He was tall, but taller than what you think. He was strong, but stronger than what you may imagine! First thing that crossed my mind: how big is h...

"You must be Digg!"

Damn I am him.

"Hey Amr! How are you? Please have a seat."

Amr was the kind of guys who makes you look at him: he has something about his clear white skin, nice hairy young chest, dark black hair that make you want to look twice at him to check every part separately (considering his big size Michael Jordan-body-type). He wore a nice shirt exposing his chest, tucked in his dark blue/gray Jeans. No special brand names I could read, but he looked elegant in what he wore. The only drawback was this school bag he had with him. I was assuming he was coming back from University.

We talked. We talked. He was a bit boring as a matter of fact. Not as attractive and entertaining as he was on phone. But there was something in his eyes. Something that gets you. That makes you drown. Swim. Float. Dream!

Amr was a freshman in Medical school. He was calm. Quiet. Not that much of a talker. I knew later that this is categorized as a main sign of Confused People. He was living between the eternal dilemma: I am attracted to boys. But I am straight. I want to get married. But I want a male body. Kids. Islam. Forbidden. Let's fuck!

My pink-yellow-greenish heart fell for him. I saw his silence as a wise man. I read his confusion as a reasonable guy. I was preparing myself for my first sorrow.. and I was doing it well.

Over the following couple of weeks; we were meeting, SMSing, chatting, e-mailing. Amr started taking me to his university. I met his best friend. I made him meet my friends. Till that night.. When everything flipped.

We were in Hardee's, Khaleefa al Ma'moon street. It was on a Thursday, about 2:00am when Amr, his bag, Digg, Checko & Tom were ordering their Five Star Combo please!

We took our Happy Star with some number on it, picked a place and sat down. I wanted to go to the bathroom, Call of Nature! (and checking myself in the mirror while walking by wouldn't cause any harm). I excused, and went.

A couple of seconds later, Amr came in. A couple of minutes later, we were making out.

The very next morning; I felt happy. Delighted. Hooked! I SMSed him. Teasing him about how naughty he was; doing so in a public place. Waited for his answer.

No answer.

I called. No answer. I gave him excuses. He must be sleeping. We stayed up late last night!

Unless he sleeps 24 hours.. something must be wrong by now.

I SMSed. Asking how he is doing. Telling him that I miss him. That I want to hear his voice. Why haven't I thought about checking my mail?

There was something like: This is wrong. Bad. Our religion forbids it. I am sorry Digg. Don't call me anymore.

You liked it you sick dirty in-public hot french kisser rapist son of a bitch! Screw you, liar. I miss you. Please answer my calls. Please listen to me. We can talk through it. Amr, I like you. Amr I need you. Amr don't leave me!!

I tried removing his memory (and cherry lips/warm hug) from my mind. I missed his skin. His smell. I tried logging into Gay.com chat in other nickname; just to see him come online. No doctors in sight. Till my home phone rang, a couple of months later. Amr was expressing, in his (now monotone) voice, that he wants to see me. He is confused about his sexuality. About his desires. About his needs. But he felt good. Of course, my pink-yellow-green-reddish heart was so excited that he's back.

We met in Pizza Express (now: Costa Café in Heliopolis). We sat down. In my thoughts, I was drowning, swimming, floating: what does he need? He just sat there, silent, boring.. with this bag he always carried on his back. A real nerd. How haven't I noticed this? Is it really me seeing him clearly? Or just trying to convince myself that he is not as WOW as I he really is?

I started talking, about anything! Trying to start something. I was doing my best not to come near that "thing" that happened a while back. I only wanted to look at him; my Barn Door!

After finishing my Mocha, medium with a Caramel shot please! and his Fresh Mango Juice (He never drinks coffee or tea -that explains his frozen behavior), cairo_doctor decided to open his bag, for the first time, I was having the chance to know what is hiding in there. My curiosity was killing me. Pandora's box was open! A gift and a letter came lose. (what else in there?). He just put them on the table, and left on the spot. Leaving me confused (by the act of opening his Holy bag first then doing this hit and run!)

I just opened the box. There was a candle; with a lot of glitter around that made me long for some Feather to suit me; now all shiny that I have become! A letter; a glittery letter to be precise, cut from his University's Notebook. Well handled, with different colors he wrote. He wrote what he felt. What he truly felt towards me. How great he felt while kissing in that bathroom. How wild yet thrilling it was. As tasty as the Adam's Apple.. yet forbidden. How much he wants me; but he can't be around me. Things are going in the wrong way. He couldn't accept it. Maybe one day he'd accept the whole thing; maybe by then; we'd be together. That I represent this Candle to him (specially that by then I was all covered with glitter). "You will always be the light that made me truly see myself inside."

He left me heart broken, again. This time, with a glittery candle to remind me how much I need to purchase pink feather; and to remind me the first guy I really fell for. I really felt safe with my little loving heart back then. I look at the candle now; and can't help but remember seeing Amr, a couple of years later in a gay gathering.. kissing someone. This time not in the bathroom.. but right next to it.

:: Appetizer

All over the years; you just live your days in some faint hope, that grows sometimes and dies some other days, meeting Mister Right. Poor Mister Right; he is having a lot of work to do; satisfying thousands and thousands of Gay guys (including the slutty ones, the one-night standers and the psychos). All over those years; I met people; I saw people; I've been with people who knew people. Mister Right is a Myth: you might see a UFO, be abducted but not meet Mister Right. As a matter of fact; we always hear about Aliens.. have you ever heard about Mister Right? Anybody found one in sight? Friend of your friend's neighbor ever knew about someone who heard talking about an existing Mister Right in a certain era? -nah!

On the other hand, Mister Right Fakers do exist. They are common, they are everywhere! I knew a lot; met even more and heard stories; stories that I want to share in here. Real stories; real moments; real mess!

For some strange reason, and I've noticed this lately, I've been always around events. They come to me. Should I stay silent! Noway! What kind of twisted fag am I? I should gossip. Talk. Ask. Know more. Then blow everything. It's not my fault if I see someone whose partner is devoted, cheating on him with my best friend. Neither is my mistake witnessing someone lying at some other person I knew accidently in a Cafe. Come on! Where are my Gay manners?

Names, of course, will be changed -except the first letter. If you find your story in here, it is not a coincidence: you have been in my way; and I found you a very fat, juicy, attractive, yummy, ummmm, wow topic to talk about. Keep checking, you might be my next victim... but bare one thing in mind: I am saying what people don't see in themselves. After all, I am just a witness; a third party; a true eye away from any emotions involved.