narcissus and his boytoy

first thing i got a grand in hand, i treated myself and miss zimbabwe to a movie downtown. it's been a while that we were forced to take a hiatus in our squalid lair called home, so you could imagine us salivating like experimental dogs while on board the bus going to what sir j. neil garcia called the armpit of manila: quaipo (the remaining armpit being cubao, quezon city). actually, we were not about to lay back per se to screen a movie; more precisely, we were about to get laid, although not exactly in a way most cruises end up: horizontally. i had miss zimbabwe proceed first so he could begin reaching his quota, while i visited my ex-flame hansam in his workplace. like me, hansam just had a haircut, so my raging libido hit temperature high upon seeing my hothothot erstwhile boyfriend sporting a new 'do that's sure to leave gays pining for him.
quite surprisingly, hansam was extra-flirtatious when i came up to him to exchange an obligatory life update. he said that if i miss him, i should return to him as his lover. he added that he has lost weight not so much as the diet he has engaged in to achieve a washboard tummy as the absence of someone to take care of him. in response, i complained that it's his fault for not devoting a little time for little gapanese. hansam's quite a babe, i might just surrender to his sweet flirtations and start afresh. i promised to return the following week because maybe, just maybe, it'll be sweeter the second time around. p.s. the hotter brother troy has heeded the calling of priesthood, to my utter shock, for that means a steady diet of papayas for my future brother-in-law and another of women's frustrations for the chance enhancement of the human gene pool.
from the mall, i proceeded to the moviehouse and immediately got booked while miss zimbabwe contented herself to being a boyswatcher dahil naligwak na naman siya sa finals. i bagged my quota when a fair-looking hunk approached me in the industrial fan area and swept me to a row of seats nearby. like what i previously observed, fans hovered around us upon prospecting a spectacle involving an attractive-looking couple. well, better to ogle at two cuties than at two gorillas making out in the dark recesses of the theater. only that my partner absorbed to his head the fact that he's beautiful as to whip people including myself into frenzy. he enjoyed being an exhibitionist, a narcissist and a sex object rolled into one, but what pissed me off was hitching two other guys to kiss him on the mouth and on the chest while i worked on the sugarcane field, and went on to call the mouth guy his betrothed, the chest guy his lover, while me, his boy toy. it revolted me so much that i expressed my dissertation on how one cannot own anyone and on how ruinous the effects are of one's excessive perception of one's gorgeousness. instead of being threatened by my brain, he had me graze more down his groin, for more than the good head on my shoulder, it's the good head i'm giving him that matters.