Shake, Rattle, And Roll

I don’t know if I can broadcast The McVie Show while I’m in a seminar. So since I may be off-air until Thursday, I’ll just leave you with a three-part episode.

PART ONE

He was tall, young and chinito, with a naughty grin and searching eyes. He was also fully clothed, unlike all the others who were either wearing towels or in their underwear. In the semi-darkness he approached me, peered into my face and flashed his naughty smile. He fondled my biceps; I asked him up to my room.

In bed he refused to take off his clothes. He insisted that I relax; he wanted to do all the work. “Gusto ko paligayahin kita, gusto kong nagpapaligaya ng lalake,” he whispered, his grin turning naughtier. Sure, why not, who am I to argue?

His mouth was busy, his tongue lapping up greedily. He was like a kid let loose in a candy store, and I was his Tootsie Roll. Okay, Chupa-Chups. (There, happy?) He wanted to see me cum into his palm. Ooo-kay. Afterwards, he licked his palm clean, all the while looking into my eyes. What a tease.

“Gustong-gusto ko magpaligaya ng lalake,” he repeated. “Lalakeng-lalake’ng dating mo sa akin!”

Inward I smiled and rolled my eyes at the same time. It’s the facial hair, I said to myself. And I wondered what would happen if I replied with:

“Anish ka bellias, sistraks?! Teh, bigotelles lang itetchiwa-ri-waps! Chenelarz lang itetch, teh!”

Complete with high-pitch and matching kembot. I bet that would wipe that naughty grin off his face in an instant.

PART TWO

With his semi-kal haircut and svelte but defined body, he was hot as hell. Sure he was Kate Moss-thin, but his muscles were tight and hard. And he agreed to go with me to my room.

He had a happy trail that lead to an even happier end, and I was happy to make his manhood angry. When I had all of him deep in my mouth, he said, “Slowly! Slowly! Theeeere.” But I soon found out that slowing things down turned him on so much. “I’m coming! I’m coming!” he said.

So what I did was to prolong the agony. Or rather, I extended the exquisite torture. You know how painfully sensitive our cocks are right after ejaculation? I refused to stop and continued to slowly work my tongue up and down his slowly relaxing but still hard member.

“Aaaaaaaaahh! Ye—aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh! Oooooooooooohh! St—aaaaahhh! No—oooooooh!” He started to whimper in between moans and tickled laughter. His curled his body; he placed his fist in his mouth to stifle the sounds (which was music to my ears). “Put—aaaaaaaah! Angggg! Innn! Aaaaaah!” he panted between breaths.

After a few more seconds of torture I let go. He uncurled from his fetal position slowly, eyes shut but with a wide, embarrassed grin on his face. I lay down beside him and whispered, “O, buhay ka pa?” He playfully punched me on my shoulder. Then he threw an arm around me and hugged me tight.

Round two several minutes later, he was just as noisy.

PART THREE

Looking at the slight paunch in his belly and the way his pecs were undeveloped, I figured he was around my age, maybe even a little older. But his chinito eyes, smooth face and clean-cut hair made him look young. What gave away his age?

He was wild in bed. As in, wild! As in, he knew how to position himself in so many ways I had to think quickly to catch up with him. I wanted to stop him and ask, “Can we document these? How did you manage that? Where the hell did you learn that?”

I don’t know how long we were at it, but after a while I was already covered with sweat and breathing heavily. This isn’t sex; this is a triathlon!

He was considerate enough to allow me to catch my breath. Then he said, “You can piss on me if you want.” Oh, a golden showers kind of guy! Unfortunately my bladder has a mind and a schedule of its own, and refused to respond on command. So I politely declined his offer. But he wanted more. “Ano’ng trip mo? Kahit ano, sabihin mo.”

Hmmm, let’s see nga?! I wonder how far he’ll go, so I pushed it: “Wanna do bareback?”

He paused. “Ay, wag.” Okay, he passed the test.

We chatted for a while. He had a long-time lover, but they allow each other to go to the bathhouse. I asked him how old he was. He smiled and said, “Guess.” So I decided to give a ridiculously low number. “Uhm,” with matching pause-as-if-I’m-thinking, “…33?”

He looked at me and said, “O sige, puwede mo na akong i-bareback!”

We laughed and I asked him, “Hindi nga, ilang taon ka na?”

“48,” he replied, closing his eyes.

Wow! Give me hope, Johanna! Now I have something to look forward to when I approach the big 5-0.