To Bi For 14: Charlize Theron.

It was love at first sight when I saw Charlize Theron. The movie was The Devil's Advocate (1997) and she played the tormented wife of a young attorney (Keanu Reeves) whose ego has delivered him right into the devil's palm. Although I saw the film in order to see Al Pacino (my idol) and Reeves (my crush of the moment), my attention and libido were quickly turned to someone else when the camera revealed Charlize's face. She was beautiful. And she can act.

Enthralled by her beauty, I tried to learn a few things about her. I learned that she grew up in South Africa and was raised principally by her mother. That her mother is her best friend and confidant and that it was she who prompted Charlize into doing movies. Before becoming an actress, she was a supermodel. She has appeared in the pages of Vogue and other fashion magazines.

Still under the power of her elegance, I followed Charlize's Hollywood career. I watched when she reunited with Keanu Reeves in Sweet November (2001) then provided good company to the orphan Tobey Maguire in The Cider House Rules (1999) and romanced Johnny Depp in The Astronaut's Wife (1999).

I was most thrilled when she teamed up with Mark Wahlberg in The Yards (2000). I thought they made a perfect couple. I totally enjoyed that movie since I could imagine myself as either Mark making love to Charlize, or as Charlize surrendering to the strong arms of Wahlberg. Imagine how exulted I was when they again joined star power to propel The Italian Job into the top of the box office charts.

It was no cause for puzzlement for me that Charlize won a Best Actress Oscar for Monster (2003). She was always an intense presence on the screen and viewers and critics alike are easily swayed into observing her presence and noting her performance.

Must Blow 26: Dado Dolabella.

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Today’s edition of Must Blow is literally the kind of stuff dreams are made of. I did not have it in mind to feature him today or even in the near future. I intended to feature, as the 26th guy, the man who is arguably the most famous professional soccer player in the world. But something happened when I woke up. So I guess he has to wait another day.

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I woke up this morning with only one name reverberating in my mind: Dado Dolabella. The name sounded familiar, certainly something that I have come across before. Yet, no matter how hard I tried, I could not place how the name became familiar or put a face to match the name.

Whenever I had a free time, even a lull at work, I try to update my blog. One of my favorite activities is naming the next Must Blow guy. The choice of which hunk to feature has always been conscious. Before I went to sleep last night, I was wavering between David Beckham (whom I have been intending to feature for the longest time but the right photos still have not come along) and Orlando Bloom (since I just enjoyed seeing At World’s End yesterday).

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However, last night, I dreamt that I featured a guy named Dado Dolabella. The photos accompanying the blog text were set in the island or the beach and the most terrific shots featured the sunset in the background complimenting the sexy grin of the hot young model. Dado, according to the blog I wrote in my dream, is a model turned actor and he is being touted as Hollywood’s next guy directors like Gus Van Sant and Steven Spielberg are yearning to work with. After I wrote my blog, there was clearly satisfaction in my face. As in what I do in reality, I reviewed the blog with much self- congratulations before –-and even after-- clicking the “publish” button.

The name and the dream were vivid when I woke up this morning. The name kept on beating in my mind like a drummer has taken residence in my head. Dado Dolabella. Dado Dolabella. Dado Dolabella.

The first thing I had to do after doing my essentials in my computer is to make a search in the web. In less than ten minutes, I got Dado’s pictures from Paparazzo.

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My initial suspicion was confirmed. Indeed, not only is Dado a real person but the name and face are familiar. I have seen Dado before and much more, I have used his photos before in this very blog!!! I previously published two of his Paparazzo pictures (in January of 2007) to accompany the entry entitled An Embarrassing Sex Dream, yet another blog engendered by a dream.

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Adding more accuracy to my dream, in real life Dado is a model and actor based in Brasil. However, he has yet to appear in Hollywood. [Much as it would be nice to claim, I will not daresay that my dream was a premonition of Dado’s imminent arrival and fame in Hollywood.]

Dado is only one of the few “real men” to actually visit me in my dream. I have written about my dream featuring Playgirl’s Man of the Year Julian Fantechi. Dado is far from being my favorite Brazilian but somehow, he has managed to beat Leandro Becker, Rafael Verga and Reynaldo Giane-very-long-and-confusing-name (or is Ginae Venezuelan?) in the expedition to my subconscious.


So, in compliance with my dream, here is today's Must Blow guy: Dado Dolabella featuring his Paparazzo pictorial. The last two pictures are that of Dado strutting on the catwalk and playing it on camera.

The Lazy Boy Experience.

It was the eleventh birthday of my older nephew, DJ, and I decided to treat him and his brother, Gabe, to see the latest edition of Pirates of the Caribbean, At World's End. It was supposed to be just the three of us but Quincy mentioned last Thursday that he wanted to try the Globe Platinum Cinema in Gateway. The cinema is reknowned for the lazy boy seats, THX sound and easily accessible snack bar of unlimited popcorn and bottomless softdrinks. It is the only cinema of its kind in the country. The idea easily appealed to me. For the longest time, I have also wanted to have the lazy boy experience and Pirates seemed to be the right film.

One problem was that neither Quincy nor I are platinum subscribers of Globe. Because of this, it was extremely difficult for us to secure seats during the weekends. My nephews and I tried to do this last year, when X-Men 3: The Last Stand was shown. We were in Gateway when the mall opened at ten o'clock on a Saturday morning but though we were first in line in the ticket booth, the prompter (monitor showing screening time and seat availability) showed that all tickets for the whole day were already sold out. We had to settle for the regular DTS theaters.

A bulb lit in my head and I decided that we try our luck on a Monday morning. There should be less people going to the movies at such time. People are at work and not in malls spending the day with their families. I only had to inform the office that I will be on leave on such day. Luckily, I had no court hearing scheduled yesterday. I stayed late in the office last Friday (there until nearly midnight) and finished all papeworks that were due on Monday.

We got into the 11:00 am screening. We had the four seats in front of the screen. My nephews occupied one set of lazy boys and Quincy and I took the other pair.

Watching a film at the Platinum Cinema was such an astounding experience. I had the best time of my life. And Quincy and my nephews ---who were all beaming as we left the cinema--- really enjoyed it too. Sitting on a soft leather chair that instantly moves and reclines as your body changes posture does not only make the movie viewing experience better, it makes the movie itself better. You will never bore because you can change your position (feet up or down, sitting position or lying down, hands on side or under your head) and make yourself comfortable throughout the screening. The catch is, now that I have experienced watching on a lazy boy, I might not enjoy any other movie unless I see it at the Platinum Cinema.

I'll end with some notes on the movie: (1) At World's End is thoroughly entertaining and exciting, there was never a dull moment in the film; (2) The story was well-written (and not just written so that there will be a third installment in a successful franchise), the plot was credible, characterization remained true to the first film (Jack Sparrow, Will Turner, Captain Barbossa and Elizabeth Swann acted as you would have expected they would); (3) the film did not focus on Jack Sparrow (Johnny Depp) but also equally dealt with the conflicts of Will (Orlando Bloom), Elizabeth (Keira Knightley), Barbossa (Geoffrey Rush) and Davy Jones; (4) Chow Yun Fat was underutilized; (5) special effects and digital animation is first-rate; (6) the support cast was great; and (7) exceptional performaces were delivered by the lead cast (especially Keira).

Kudos must be given to Gore Verbinski for the excellent execution of the movie. The producers and writers must be very much grateful to him. I know that it is very unlikely but should the Academy choose to nominate or honor a director who helmed a blockbuster movie, that slot must automatically go to Verbinski. For its genre, the film was nearly flawless. This must be Verbinski's equivalent to Ridley Scott's Gladiator.

Will there be a fourth Pirates film? I sure hope so. And the third installment is open-ended enough to allow the producers, cast and fans to give it another try. Jack Sparrow is on a voyage for the fountain of youth. Who wouldn't want to see how that adventure will turn out?

Back in Time II.

After watching Charlie Sheen in Two and a Half Men last night, I knew it was time to write a second installment of Back in Time. I previously wrote about the men who stirred my bisexual tendencies back in time, when I was growing up and in my sexual-psychological-social formative years. I featured Casper Van Dien (of Starship Troopers), Billy Warlock (primo Baywatch cutie) and Serkan Altan (Turkish Freshmen model with massive dong).

Charlie Sheen is definitely one of my early man-crushes. I remember seeing a poster of him in a store ---he was young and handsome in the photo--- and I restrained myself from buying it. I did not know how I would be able to hide it from my parents and siblings considering that the poster was huge. Anyway, I returned to the store a couple of times after that, feigning rummaging through the photos of NBA players but really committing the handsome features of Charlie into memory.

In much the same way that I saw a lot of Kevin Costner movies in the 1990s, I watched a considerable number of Charlie Sheen flicks in the late 1980s and early 1990s. I saw his comedies (Hotshots, Hotshots Part Deux and Men at Work), action movies (The Rookie) and Oscar worthy dramas (Wall Street, Platoon). I was so deeply enthralled in him that I hardly took notice of that other matinee idol making a string of Hollywood blockbusters (Tom Cruise).

I may be one of the few people who was saddened by the fact that Charlie failed to handle his fame properly and easily succumbed to drugs. He was committed by his father, Martin Sheen, to enter rehab and he stopped making movies. When he did return to Hollywood after a couple of years, he only appeared in a series of mediocre action movies that all flopped in the box office.

Charlie's career was revitalized when he switched from the big screen to the boob tube. He took over the role of deputy mayor from Michael J. Fox in Spin City. His performance was taken notice by his peers on television as well as the media and critics. He was nominated for a Golden Globe a couple of times but I do not recall if he was also nominated for an Emmy.

The role in Spin City was no sweat to Charlie as he basically played a role he is very much accustomed to: Charlie Sheen. After that, he returned to television with Two and a Half Men playing a role that viewers have come to love: Charlie Harper (Sheen).

Can you say whoah?

People don't say "whoah" anymore as a catch phrase. The expression is dead. Just as "hot" and "cool" will be in the next decade. But back in the 1980s (and early into the 90s), American teenagers did say "whoah" a lot. Its popularity is owed to the character Joey in the hit comedy Blossom.

I did not see a lot of Blossom episodes back then but I definitely saw a lot of Joey Lawrence, the actor who played Joey. I had a crush on him too. It was not difficult to explain since Joey Lawrence was boyishly cute, a had a big wavy hair that makes you want to caress and at the same time makes you envious (How does he keep it that great?) and, though only a teenager, he had a great, well-toned and muscled body.

The photos of Joey Lawrence proliferated in a lot of teen magazines. Those photos are the closest that I could ever get to porn (or soft porn). The pictures obviously captured the great physique of Joey. Though there was hardly shirtless photos, there are a considerable number that let teens like me peek at his chest, nipple and navel.

The photos never failed to arouse me. I imagined kissing Joey's thick, red lips and then moving from there to his tender nipples and then lower, to his navel and pubes.

I must have been blindly in love with this guy that I even found myself buying his album and loudly singing his hit song Nothing My Love Can't Fix. I still have the album (tape) with me but I haven't played it in years.

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The other cover boy of that era was Marky Mark. Unlike Joey, he survived the capricious tendencies of teenagers by reinventing himself into the actor now known as Mark Wahlberg.

Marky's Mark's classic life story is something that is often told ---and will always be retold--- in Hollywood. He was a punk who grew up in the streets of Boston. Being a member of a large brood (ten brothers and sisters, I believe) and middle class parents, he was virtually left to fend for himself in the streets. He did not actually spend quality time in good company (a brother was into drugs and his friends were mostly thugs) and he, eventually, ended up in jail. He consented to being tried as an adult, which allowed him a shorter jail sentence.

It was quite literally a new life when he left the slammer. Together with older brother, Donnie, he joined a pop group called New Kids on the Block but left before the boy band was launched. He went into a solo career as the white rapper Marky Mark and released a best-selling album called Music for the People. Uber-stardom was reached after he was signed up by Calvin Klein to head the ad campaign for men's underwear.

2° Mark Wahlberg - Calvin Klein 2
Video sent by AeFa

That is how I was initiated to the allure of Marky Mark. First, as a shirtless white rapper. And then, as fashion progress would have it, as a pants-less model. I would by magazines that featured his photos and then clip them for my own collection.

The last guy in today's line up, Eddie Cibrian, came to me much later than Charlie, Joey and Marky Mark. I spotted him first in a soap opera called Sunset Beach. He was a little more than twenty at that time. Although reception of the UHF channel that carried Sunset Beach was really bad at that time, I suffered through it so that I would be able to appreciate' Eddie's dimples and firm pecs.

After the soap's run, I lost contact with Eddie like I would a friend who had to move to another town. I read and heard every now and then that he was in a new show (Baywatch Nights was one of them). I saw him again last week in the unbearable drama Vanished (another CSI clone) and he still looked hot. Although more than a decade has passed, he didn't seem to have aged for more than two years.

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To Bi For 13: Carrie Underwood.

American Idol crowns its new winner today. In honor of the show that I have grown to love in its last four seasons, I have decided to name, as today's To Bi For woman, my favorite AI winner of all time: Carrie Underwood.

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Halfway through the competition of the past season, Simon Cowell bravely predicted that Carrie would not only win the competition but that she would sell the most records among all previous contestants and winners of the show. How he was right. In today's Idol finale, Clive Davis announced that Underwood's first album, Some Hearts, has sold more than six million copies. That is a whopping figure in the music industry. Much so in the time of MP3, ipod, internet downloads and pirated versions.

Carrie Underwood the singer, popstar and product is not difficult to sell. Not only does she exude tons of likeability about her, she also has enormous singing talent. For me, the time I knew that Carrie would go far in the AI competition was when she walked on stage - garbed in 80s hair and fashion- and sang Alone. That was very early in the contest (I think it was still the top 24 round) but that performance made a mark on me. I still play that song in my P910i.

Season Four finale was one of the best ever. It was a tight fight between Carrie Underwood and Bo Bice. Carrie, because her raw but powerful voice and her good girl looks, is undeniable Idol material, ala Kelly Clarkson before her. But a lot of people were rooting for Bo - a rocker who was able to penetrate the pop and teen market of the show. But all doubts were put to rest after Carrie sang a cover of Angels Brought Me Here and Inside Your Heaven (a song composed for the occasion and arranged to suit her singing style). Her voice soared, commanded and endeared. Even before the confetti fell the following night, she owned the stage, the song, the competition and the moment.

-----oOo-----

Like last year's Idol finale, I consider this season's finale as anti-climactic. Last year, because finalists Taylor Hicks and Katharine McPhee were made to perform two songs each that they have already sung in the earlier run of the show. Although I enjoyed McPhee's rendition of Somewhere Over the Rainbow, I just heard it seven days back. It was still fresh in my memoray and I was sure in the minds of other viewers as well. In short, there was nothing more to watch on the finals night. Even the winner's piece was excruciating to listen to. Do I Make You Proud? asks Taylor. Not with that song, bro.

The end of Season 6 is likewise anti-climactic because, for once, the show entered its finale without the best singers and competitors ever. For me, the show ended the week before when Melinda Doolittle was eliminated. She was the best singer this season and deserved to win the title the most. Her version of I am Woman still haunts me. I would have prefered a Melinda v. Lakisha finale. Kodak Theatre would have exploded with the powerful voices of these two singers trying to give their all for the crown and the recording contract that comes with it. At some point of the competition, I even thought a Melinda v. Chris Richardson finale was possible. Chris, I think, was the best vocalist among the male constestants this year.

I had not recovered from the elimination of Melinda that I did not even care to watch the final performance last night. I extended my hours in the gym instead. Nevertheless, when I got home I was still able to catch Blake Lewis, and then Jordin Sparks, sing This is My Now. That is the ugliest and cheesiest song title I have ever heard. I think Blake was sabotaged with the song (the way Bo Bice was made to sing a ballad in his own finale) and I doubt Jordin really felt that deeply for the song. Jording cleverly cried crocodile tears.

Anyway, I made it a point to watch the live telecast of the season finale expecting real entertainment. I was disappointed. This year's productions did not reach the caliber of Mary J. Blige and Prince's performances from last year.

Who was looking forward to the resurrection of Gladys Knight and Bette Midler? Do not get me wrong, I love them both (Bette's In My Life and Wind Beneath My Wings always put me to a stop and Kinght's Midnight Train to Georgia constantly has me crooning) and I think the producer had only the best intentions. But I really think the finale was not the proper occasion to remind the world that these divas are great singers.

I think the highlight performance was the one featuring Smokey Robinson and the Top 6 Guys (Blake, Chris R., Phil, Sanjaya, Chris S. and Brandon). The songs in their medley were great, they put the audience (inside Kodak and those on TV) up their feet and into celebratory mood and -most importantly in a singing show- they sang well. We should congratulate the guys for their preparation and showmanship. They provided that rare brilliance in the finale.

Silver Blow.

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This month, I had just completed naming my first 25 Must Blow nominees. If this was a marriage or a company, it would be cause for a silver celebration. So why deprive myself of such a joyous occasion? Here is a rundown of the first lucky guys who made it to the list.

The First Ten Blows:

1. Brandon Manilow

2. Brent Javier

3. Jeff Timmons

4. Doug Kramer

5. Andy Roddick

6. Matthew McConaughey

7. Matt Kenney

8. Chris Carmack

9. Renato Amoroso

10. Zak Hogen-Esch

The Second Ten Blows:

11. Brent Dupuis

12. Jensen Ackles

13.Mike Tan

14. Mr. Anonymous (Fratmen's model Damon)

15. Leandro Becker

16. Derrick Davenport

17. Alvin Alfonso

18. Richard Herrera

19. Josh Elliot

20. Jared Padalecki

And here are the men who complete the Silver list:

21. TJ Austin

22. Breck Orshal

23. Daniel Jacob

24. Nicholas Lemons

25. Will Devaughn.

Some useless statistics. Playgirl models beat the Bel Ami boys, 5-3 [Kenney, Dupuis, Davenport, Orshal and Jacob vs. Manilow, Amoroso and Elliot]. Six models in the Philippines [Brent Javier, athlete Kramer, Hogen-Esch, Alfonso, Herrera and Devaughn] were named as against only 1 Filipino actor [Tan] and 1 international model [Lemons]. American TV actors [Carmack, Ackles and Padalecki] outnumbered movie actors [McConaughey], 3-1.

There were also one each from the following sectors: singer [Timmons], pro athlete [Roddick], Freshmen coverboy [Austin], Fratmen model [Mr. Anonymous/Damon] and Brazilian DJ [Becker].

-----oOo-----

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Earlier today, I visited Playgirl's web site to see their Daily Fix. My hormones immediately shot up upon seeing this photo of Daniel Jacob (Must Blow 23). I instantly transfered the photo to my K800i and it now serves as my newest screen saver. Some blessings just drop out of nowhere.

Quickie Movie Reviews.

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The past few weeks have been very fruitful in terms of going to the cinema and watching the must-see blockbuster offerings as well as staying at home to catch up on the movies that I failed to see on the big screen and ticking off some DVDs from my "unwatched" list.

300. The Good News: Excellent cinematography and visual effects coupled with endless gratuitous shots of half-naked hunky men. The Bad News: After you have satisfied your appetite for on-screen violence, there is nothing more to expect from the film. Last Word: Way better than the screen adaptation of Frank Miller's other graphic novel, Sin City.

Little Children. The Good News: A well constructed drama on infidelity. Kate Winslet gives another stunning performance reminiscent of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Patrick Wilson ably carries his own as the man who begins an affair with Winslet but not mustering enough guts to lead a new life with her and leave his wife and kid. The Bad News: Slow pacing, bad lighting. Last Word: What should Patrick Wilson do in order to gain the respect of his peers and movie critics? I truly believe that he deserves a Best Supporting Actor nomination for this one. Like his performance in Angels of America, this one was also underappreciated.

Babel. The Good News: Cate Blanchett as the American tourist shot on a bus ride. The Bad News: One wonders why this film was even made. There was no entertainment value at all. Last Word: Oscar and other award giving bodies had it wrong. Definitely not one of the best films of the year. Heck, it isn't even a good film.

The Constant Gardner. The Goods News: Excellent performances from leads Ralph Fiennes and Rachel Weisz. Cinematography and sound are stunning. The Bad News: It is difficult to think of any. The story is engaging and the director's shots are as vividly entertaining. Last Word: One of the best films of 2005. Weisz truly deserves her Best Supporting Actress Oscar for this movie.

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The Lake House. The Good News: An outside-the-Hollywood-formula romance movie. Deeply engaging throughout as viewers try to keep pace with the story and all the while hoping that Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves do indeed get to meet each other. The Bad News: I question the choice of Bullock and Reeves as lead characters for the film. They exhibited more chemistry in Speed. This might have been a better film with Jake Gyllenhal and Kate Hudson in it. Or maybe Charlize Theron and Matthew Fox. Final Word: A respectably watchable movie. Most especially for true romantics who are still looking for that one true love and who refuse to settle for the next guy or girl available for the sake of "finally settling down".

Casino Royale. The Good News: James Bond is back with more attitude and less gadgets. He puts his opponent's evil scheme down not by firing a gun but by winning a game of poker. Lots of action and a love interest (Eva Green) who is easily to die for. The Bad News: James Bond is not as good looking as we thought him to be when Pierce Brosnan still wore the 007 suit. Final Word: Is Daniel Craig a better Bond than Brosnan? I am holding judgment on this one. The story and script pretty much carried the day for Bond and enabled Craig to portray a gritty double agent. I'll wait and see the next installment.

The Covenant. The Good News: Blood-sucking shirtless jocks, what more can you ask? The Bad News: Film is geared primarily for the teenage market, so lower your expectations. Final Word: The movie features blood-sucking shirtless jocks. That is very much enough reason to watch and enjoy the film.

Velvet Goldmine. The Good News: Superb material, screenplay and directing. Tour-de-force performances by Jonathan Rhys Meyers, Ewan McGregor, Christian Bale and Toni Collette. Listen to the music, it's great. I am still looking for a copy of the soundtrack. The Bad News: I sometimes found the flamboyance of Meyer's character disturbing. Final Word: A definitive movie on rock and roll. Buy the DVD, it is well worth it.

Spider-Man 3. The Good News: State of the art CGI and visual effects, especially those showing the transformations of Sandman. Kirsten Dunst and Tobey Maguire giving more to their characters than lesser actors would have bothered to pore into action-adventure characters. The Bad News: Too much drama. The people behind the film should have taken into consideration that viewers trooping to see the film are there for the action. The character of and sub-plot on Sandman was completely unnecessary and could have been written off. Final Word: Could have been a better film if it concentrated on the envy of Venom (Topher Grace), his rise as a villain and his face-off with Spider-Man, the object of his grudge.

The Lives of Breck Orshal.
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Two months ago, I featured Breck Orshal as Must Blow # 22 and I noted then how this handsome hunk is able to peacefully and secretly live his double life. With the advent of the internet, access to information is virtually instant. You can just about google anyone. Some people even google themselves. Yet, curiously Breck Orshal is able to keep his porn life quite distinctly from his private life.

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Above are the photos of Breck Orshal as I learned to know about him. As coverboy and centerfold for Playgirl. He appeared in the magazine twice but, unfortunately, did not return as man of the year.

And this is the private life of Breck Orshal, with his girlfriend. (The face of the woman is edited in order to protect her privacy.)

And this Breck Orshal, as the porn actor known as "Gabe".

Finally, here is Breck in hard core action.


For obvious reasons, I really do want to know him.

Must Blow 25: Will Devaughn.

Todays Must Blow guy is local model and TV personality Will Devaughn. It seems that since Brent Javier's "It Boy" quotient died down, Will Devaughn's own quotient went up and he has been everywhere.

Will's biggest break as a commercial model and endorser is being the face and voice of McDonald's McRice burgers. He was hip, cute and dashing in the TV promo as a burger-eating yuppie.

Aside from McDonalds, Will has also appeared in commercials for a cellphone company and a heath and beauty retail chain. He also hosts a magazine show, Men's Room. I just don't know now whether it still airs.

Will Devaughn is also Cosmo magazine's more popular bachelor. He has been included in the magazine's hottest hunks centerfold for two years, which is quite a rare feat. I am personally thankful for this because part of the "prize" is a near-naked photoshoot of the chosen bachelor.

Finally, Will has no qualms about appearing in just his underwear. Talk about being a professional model. He was one of the many gorgeous guys who strutted their near-naked bodies in the latest fashion show of Bench.

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As I wrote earlier, I have seen Will in person. I saw him in Coffee Bean. He wasn't much of a stunner (as I earlier noted, waters didn't actually part when he entered the cafe) but he was one really good looking chap.

Ale Marchi: The Boy Video Pictorial.

Alas, I have learned how to post videos in this blog.

First up is Ale Marchi's captivating and sexy video while doing his pictorial for Terra's The Boy. The Boy is quite famous for coaxing Brasil's hottest men into stripping. Rafael Verga is just one of the many products of this right of passage for Brasil's sexiest men.

Alê Marchi
Video sent by corepylon

The photo appearing above is one of the products of this pictorial.

Punked [When Your Guy Isn't Top Enough].

This one happened a few days before Christmas. All the wine that I took during the office party, I must have consumed almost two bottles, left me horny as a teenager. Alcohol does that to me. When I get drunk, I need sex in order to have a good night's rest. Otherwise, I get anxious and tend to needlessly stay up late.

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I was already driving when I made a run through in my mind of possible instant sex partners. Rachel was out of the country so that immediately ruled her out. Again, it must have been the alcohol thinking and I thought of trying something new. It was a sort of thing I would only think of when I am not in my proper mind. Suddenly, a guy whose name was dropped to me by Dindo (an actor I slept with first in September and then again in late November) popped into my mind.

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Alex. That is his real name. Dindo described him as boyish, handsome and well equipped. He is a dancer in a variety show that Dindo sometimes appeared in. He is reputedly straight (starlets marvel at his stamina) but now and then tinkers with same sex. We were complete strangers and my call will come like a thief in the night. It was a shot in the dark but was a shot that the wine made me take anyway.

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The phone rang and I gave the line that I had no chance to rehearse. Hi. Dindo gave me your name and number. Is it okay if I drop by your place tonight?

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He asked my name again and how I came to know Dindo. I replied matter of factly.

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There was a brief silence. Afterwards, he said yes without even asking why I wanted to drop by. As if Dindo's name was itself the password. I asked his address and directions and the vino notwithstanding, I found myself parked in front of his apartment in about ten minutes. It was nearly one o'clock in the morning and traffic was at its blissful minimum.

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All the while I thought that we would be doing it in his apartment. But in a few seconds after I have gathered my cellphones, wallet, pack of condoms and lube that I had stashed in my glove compartment, Alex stepped out the door and into my front passenger seat. I looked at him quite surprised. I looked at his face and quickly noted that "yeah, I'll do him" and extended my hand to introduce myself. It was a firm handshake, which was weirdly accompanied by his words "I know a place".

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I started the car and in a few seconds I was driving again. I knew the area he wanted to go but was unfamiliar with the name of the motel (I hardly know any motel by name). He easily gave me the directions but in one instance had to turn left in a no left turn avenue. There was no traffic officer to apprehend me.

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I went straight to the comfort room to wash my face while he checked the room. I heard him open the TV and then play with the lights (he switched some on, some off). I thought I needed to take a shit and so sat on the bowl for a few moments. When I got out, he was still dressed and then he went for the CR himself.

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I had taken my shirt off and lowered the volume of the TV when he got out of the CR. I had also hidden my car key, shoes and cell phones by then. It is an SOP for me. A safety precaution. The condom and lube I safely placed within arms length on the night table.

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Do a striptease for me. The words just came out of my mouth as he headed for the bed on which I was already reclining. We spoke as much as we could during the brief ride. He confirmed that he was indeed a dancer and had, in fact, started his career in a bar. I waited for his response.

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No, you have to go watch me dance at work. And then he removed his shirt and kissed me on the left side of my neck.

He kissed me all over and I let him. All the while I carressed his soft hair. The kisses only stopped when he unbuckled and removed my pants. As a gesture of reciprocity, I helped him get out of his shoes, socks and pants as well.

When we were both just in our underwear, he sprawled on the bed. I knew it was my turn to please him.

I began by kissing him on his nipple. I let my wet tongue wander between his left and right nipples, sometimes licking him from there to his neck or down to his belly. I did not stop until he was wet all over and my mouth was dry. Afterwards, I moved up to look into his face and his eyes to take him all in. I noted that he was indeed handsome and boyish. Josh Elliot was the word that came to mind. And punk. I considered myself lucky to be able to have such a catch in such short notice.

Knowing that he was fully aroused by what we have been doing, I moved down to undo his brief. Teasefully, I looked into his eyes, made sure that we had eye contact, bit into the waist of his underwear and then dragged it all the way down until Alex was completely naked.

Dindo was correct three-of-three. Alex was indeed well equipped. His dick was about six and a half inches long and was a little thick. It also had the texture of soft fine leather, squizzes like stress ball and smells like a baby. Tender though his dick was I knew Alex could not be nineteen years old. Not with that texture of a dick. Confronted, Alex confessed that he was already twenty two years old.

I sucked him deeply, strongly and intensely. I kisssed the pole, swallowed the head, and the balls too. He must have been loving it as his hips gyrated on the bed and pounded on my face. It was great, all great.

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Intermittently, I moved up to kiss his face, cheeks and neck. Whenever my lips got nearer, he would look the other way, avoiding my lips to kiss his. After about two or three attempts at trying to kiss him, I knew it would never happen. Anyway, I still tried to kiss him once in a while, just so to miff him, put him on guard and to consider it a power play. If kissed me back, I knew I won a point.

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It was standard sex, so to speak. Like re-enacting a Bel Ami flick that we both have seen before we met. I sucked him and then he sucked me back. Afterwards, we did sixty-nine. First, I was on top and as a continuation of the power play that I resolved to do that night, I would destroy his rhythm by face-fucking him. He would gag and ask me to stop. I stopped but would always resume in a little while. Then when we both got a little tired, we did 69 side to side. We did this for maybe twenty or thirty minutes.

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Afterwards, he was on his back again and I was sitting on top of him. It was time to take things to the next level. I told him clearly, I want you to fuck me. I did not quite understand his reaction. Thinking that he failed to hear me I said again, I want you to fuck me. The disappointing look resurfaced. He said, I can't.

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Then it was my turn to wonder whether I heard him right. But then the look on his face made me know that I heard him correctly.

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Why?

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I always get soft when I try to penetrate a guy.

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I was clearly disappointed but I controlled myself and acted as if it was not an issue for me. I knelt on the bed, raised his hips and then rested his legs on either side of my shoulders. I sucked Alex from that position and then played with his asshole. I sucked and blew and sucked and he gasped and moaned and gasped.

.

It was at this point that I really felt punked. Like being a victim of Ashton Kutcher's prank. Alex was clearly enjoying himself and would be cumming in a couple of minutes. I wanted to have my own share of fun. My own gratification. I badly wanted to be fucked up in the ass. And I am not getting it.

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I bent low to look at Alex again. Are you sure you can't do it. Can we give it a try?

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Alex looked at me as if resigned. I jerked his dick to make it really hard. And then he held it as I lowered myself and welcome his cock into my ass. It got in. As I began to ride him, however, it went pfffft. The dick that was just a while ago eager and hard was quickly soft. I used my hands again to make him hard and Alex instantly responded. We tried to get his cock in my ass again but once the head was in, Alex was soft again. I thought that giving it another try will only end in frustration. Alex clearly knows his body better and if he says he cannot penetrate a guy, he must be right.

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We did 69 again and a host of other positions. Alex came first after I resumed sucking him, and then when he said he was nearly orgasmic, masturbated him. Alex did the same to me.