Crave for Touch

Dear Zach,

These night I invited some tops over to my place to have sex after my parents asleep. My dad usually pop some sleeping pills before he sleeps, when he sleeps, he sleeps dead. My mum is obviously bed-ridden. So I wouldn't worry much about getting caught.

Rather than asking the tops to come through backdoor of my house at the back alley and straight to my room which they usually do beforehand, now I ask them to just come through the front door to avoid suspicion. Although I can finally host at night for sex, not many of them would want to come at late 10.30 pm on the weekdays just for a shag. Somehow there were a few willing to come as long as there is a bed, air-conditioner, and privacy for them to fuck. My bed time was 11pm. But when there is a sex ensued on that night, I would sleep at 12am. When I said you come at 1030pm, you come at 10.30pm sharp. Don't be late. Sex is important, but my sleep is way more importanter.

After a good ol' 20 minutes of good shag, I usually ask them if they wanna cuddle for a while. Most of them comply. Not sure why these days I was being nice and clingy to the tops. I tend to ask for cuddling after sex which I usually don't do. Sometimes during cuddling, I would sneak some pecks on their cheeks as if we were a couple, showing some affection after sex. Then, we would talk a bit of ourselves. But as it is getting late and they have to wake up early for work next morning, the after-sex cuddling last around 5 minutes the most. I am understanding because i also need my sleep. But it feels good to be embraced in someone's arm, sniffing their chest, sneaking pecks, and laying my head on their chest listening their pounding heartbeat. If this was me few years ago, I would have asked the tops to leave as soon as they were done. Is it true that when you grew older, you crave for more personal connection?

Spring Cleaning

Dear Zach,

For the past few weeks, I have been doing spring-cleaning of the things in the cabinets where my mum stores most of the unwanted tupperwares and empty containers. Little did I know that collecting empty and unused containers was my mum hobby. She always collect and store it for just-in-case - Just in case we need to store the biscuits ; Just in case there is leftover lunch ; Just in case we may need it in the future. Somehow, the chances of it happening was close to none. In the end, she ended up buying more empty containers without realizing there were plenty of it at home in the cabinets left untouched for years.

I have cleared bit by bit. All of them stored in the carton boxes. There were also plentiful of cutleries, plates, mugs, and so many kitchen wares stored in the cabinet, unused. In the process of clearing up, I was also in the process of getting to know how my mum stored things. Each carton box was a mystery to me, as if awaiting for me to unveil what is inside of the box. There were plates - flowery and intricate designs. I did not throw them away, because my mum loves beautiful items. Also, I did not have the heart to throw away such pieces, but some of them was covered with mold and seemingly worn out on its own.

The more I cleared, the more I got to know my mum -- each step I clear is a trace of my mum how she stored, how she felt for each piece of plate and saucer she stored could never see the light of the day til she die. Somehow, clearing unwanted things is the way to move on and let other important things to have their rightful place to be stored, kept, and treasured. My dad has no comment seeing how I climbed up and down the ladder to make space for the cabinet by carrying the large boxes up and down. There was a tad bit of sadness flashed across his face, somehow he knew deep down inside, most of the stuffs were just unused and a waste of space. 

I Don't Know

Dear Zach,

For the past few days, my home has been a busy hub hosting for friends and relatives to visit my mum who is bed-ridden now. Most of the relatives were coming outstation purposely to visit her for one last time. Although my mum could not recognize some of them, she still managed to open her eyes, staring at them, as if she recognize them, but barely able to speak. When she speaks, she speaks too softly, out of breath. She can barely move now due to pain. Pain is her best companion now til death do her apart. My dad has hired a day-carer to bath and change and feed for her. My dad had had enough of everything as if wishing my mum to leave the world as soon as she could, rather than seeing her suffering day by day, dying internally. Although the cost of hiring a carer was expensive, it was a price my dad willing to foot and wanting my mum to rest in comfort and peace. 

My aunt came to my room yesterday and asked.

"What is your plan after your mum died?"

It is a question, no doubt, I have been asking myself since years then and til now. What is my plan? 

To be truthful, I do not know, I said. 

I am in my 30s. No job prospect. Had a very interesting work background for a year in 2019. Learnt a bit and pieces of everything - I am jack of all trades, master of none.

I used to be passionate about something. Tried pursuing it. Somehow of being passionate about something does not guarantee you a financial security. Then, my passion died. Never thought of it again. 

As much as I wanted to tell my aunt about my plan. I couldn't. Usually, I would have came up with something. This time, I told her, "I really don't know."

Changing Who I am

 Dear Zach,

Over the weekend, my brother flew in with his family to visit our mum while she was still hospitalized til today. Although she was allowed to be discharged on Saturday, unfortunately, the requirement to discharge her was that we need to obtain oxygen support aid for her or else she will be back VERY soon to the wad. We were frantically asking around and making calls for the aids support. However, nothing comes cheap. I have talked to a few supplier, they quoted me a bomb. Sadly, the hospice care ,whom they frequently come and check on my mum, was off over the weekend. So the best scenario for that moment, I persuaded my mum to stay at hospital til Monday. She was upset but it was the best thing to do.

My nephew and niece were a nightmare in the house - running and screaming over toys. My sis-in-law was screaming down at them all the time. It is a great reminder to me that I am glad to be gay for now and forever - I sincerely, from the bottom of my heart and hole, despise kids with passion. I am not great with kids. Kids don't like me. I don't care because I don't like them either - never will be. They were cute when they were babies; but when they grew up they are anything but cute. They reinforce my intention of never wanting to have kid all the more if I ever got married. I can't deal with them. I just can't. 

I sat down with my brother to have some serious talk about mum and dad and, also, me. Somehow he was told about the quarrel between me and my dad. I was told that I have a strong attitude since growing up, the world does not revolve around me, it's either I change to suit the society or the society detest you. I admit that I am an emotional guy with strong sense of attitude. I speak about the truth; I never liked to sugarcoat because it is pointless and fake. I am quiet on my own, but when I speak I speak lethal. That's why people who know me, they confide in me because i spoke about the truth. Many dislike me; some would respect me. This is who I am. But to change myself to fit in so that I can be likeable, I have tried that when I was employed. I was likeable, but it shattered me because I was trying to fit in rather than trying hard to do my job. I listened to my brother admonishment attentively, I did not resort to any self-defensive argument. I just listened to him. He's my only brother after all. He took over the process of preparing our mum's funeral - which was a relief for me and my dad. 

 

Bad Sex ; Great Sex ; Awaited Sex

Dear Zach,

I was in the mood to get railed so hard these days simply because of everything happening with me - my mum, the cancer, the stress, the hopeless future, my fitness bulking process, constant working out in the gym, the canker sore inside my gum killing me, and etc.

I was supposed to meet this new regular, whom I have met twice and the sex was amazing and he is an indian, few nights ago, but he did not reply my message until I have found another top whom I met in the gay sauna twice and we had light fun there and he is a Malay which I strictly don't prefer. Well, I met this Malay top in the sauna before I swore off meeting up with malay man, so technically speaking, I am not going against my integrity. Sound silly I know lol. Probably you may think this is unjustifiable. Anyway, he was on the way back home and he messaged me on whatsapp,

"did you just block me on grindr?" he wrote.

"huh? no." I replied.

"cause your profile pic was blank."

"probably I just changed to a new pic. thats why."

"ok. wanna meet up?"

I was horny and awaiting for my new regular top to reply but to no avail. So I invited him over since we both had some fun in the sauna and it was great. Somehow, the sex was underwhelming as fuck. It was just that the chemistry was off and he was trying so hard to pretend a Dominant but kinda failed. I felt like we were not as enthusiastic as we were before in the sauna. Also, there were some icks of him have made me turn off. I sent him off at the door when we finished and he texted me "thank you.". I wished him safe drive and good night and delete his conversation off my chat list. 

The next night, I invited the new regular top. We had a great time. He fucked me 3 times, and made out at the front door before he left.

I woke up the next morning thoroughly fucked. 

Thought of getting another indian top tonight whom I chated with 2 days ago as we both were interested to meet for sex. But alas, he has to work night shift, so we might meet tomorrow or the night after tomorrow. 

Guilty to Be Relief

 Dear Zach,

My mum was admitted to hospital again on Tuesday night. Her serious case of amnesia has gotten us worried, and the hospice nurse advised us to bring her to the ER. By 11pm, we knew it gonna take long hours in order to get my mum admitted to the wad when you were dealing with government hospital, we left her under the care of the nurses and doctors and went home ourselves. 

We went and visited her every afternoon lunch hour. She was in great care. She still did not eat. Her emotions were high and low, rendering us feeling agitated when talking to her. She was still in confusion - talking something that didn't even exist. I can feel my dad feeling sad and stress for her. I decided to end the visit quickly and got us out from there.

For the past few days, our home was in peace. I can feel the tension dissipated. My dad did what he enjoys to do - mending her backyard garden. He seemed relaxed and enjoyed the tranquility knowing my mum was in the hospital taken care of. It felt as if this was going to be the life if my mum passed. I felt guilty that I was relief when my mum was not bed-ridden at home, hoping she would just stay at the hospital til she passes, rather than coming back home having endless pains and complains. 

Today, we went to visit her. The doctor said she will likely be discharged tomorrow. We are glad but deep down inside we wish she stay there instead. 

Am I a bad son? 

Angry Bird

 Dear Zach,

Anger management course should be mandatory for men who are undergoing mid-life crisis. Or probably for people like me. These days I really can't control my anger. I snapped easily - especially when there was a slight inconvenience.

I get frustrated so easily there were days I snapped at my dad for repeating 3 times and yet he couldn't hear what I said. He somehow he knew my simmering anger beneath me, he would just pretend he heard but, in actual fact, he couldn't. He is 70 with bad hearing problem. I felt guilty too.

Just like how I snapped at this fat indian technician from the insurance company who got on my last nerve trying to assist me changing my punctured tyre somehow he DID NOT bring any instruments to refill the air of the spare tyre, and still have the decency to say, "I am here just to change the tyre. We don't do air-refill etc", and yet I waited him for 2 hours for his arrival to my home just to fucking change the flatten tyre to another spare flatten tyre. Thanks for nothing, fat ass.

I get angry so easily. I feel hostile all the time. Like I am trying to fight whoever comes to my way or in my way. Why am I like this? Is it because I have been spending all my time alone at home, avoiding people not socializing, not working, removing toxic friends, keeping my circle to none, doing my own thing that make me feel contented? 

Do I have mental issue?

  

The Spanish Dick

 Dear Zach,

It was one of the Saturday afternoon last year when I was in my car in the middle of waiting at the traffic light, my grindr notification rang off. I swiped opened my mobile and looked through the message. It was a headless profile but showing an average lean body. And he unlocked his private album to me with a message "hi". A nice long 7 inches cock - a few angle of the pictures of cock accentuated how big it was, followed by a cute boyish looking spectacled guy with a backpack, and a few more pic of him.

I returned the message with a "hi". It was quick exchange because he wanted what he wanted. He sent me his location which was only 15 minutes away from where I was. And, fortunately, I douched before I left the house that day. I drove to his place and texted him when I arrived. He stayed at a private condominium where it needs access card to enter and use the lift to his unit. I waited for 5 minutes before he showed up and greeted me. My first impression of him was that he was a bit shy, probably a few inches shorter than me, lean average built. And I thought he was a Filipino due to his look. He stayed in an open-spaced studio apartment unit - you can see everything within your views. The bed was at the far end corner close to the balcony. And the air was very humid and stuffy.

I excused myself to the toilet and douched again making sure the water ran through clean. When I was out, I was shirtless, he was waiting for me at his bed. I climbed over him on top, and sealed my lips against his. Seconds later, we both thug our clothes out and were naked and hard. His body was smooth and lean but not athletic, but it was enough for you to taste his body. His 7 inches cock was not a lie. I leaned down on him and started putting his giant meat in my mouth. His dick was warm, firm, and mouthful. I was hungry. I slide my lips across his long shaft and sniffed it - it smells musty and of me. My head bobbing up an down giving him a sloppy blowjob; he was moaning, fingers going through my bald head, it was enough to make him rock hard. He flipped me over and started eating my ass. Each lick of his tongue against my orifice I moaned. Each thrust of his tongue into my hole I screamed "fuuuuccckk". His mouth was wet and his tongue was magical - a deadly combo I can't resist. I came up and kissed him again. I asked him, 

"Where are you from?", because I knew he was not a local.

"I am from Spain." I moved my face few inches away and took a good look at him wide eyes opened. "Seriously?" I said.

"Yeah. Why?" He asked. To be fair, there was no part of him screaming Españoles to me. My biggest guess was filipino but I was dead wrong because never in a million year would I have the chance to get fucked by a Spanish guy - which was one of my bucket list.

"Hola, Que tal?" I flaunted my barely-spoken-and-broken Spanish to him.

He was tad surprised. He chuckled, "hola, bien!" 

I have been learning Spanish language since 2023. I was not learning full-time; I learnt through watching Netflix, Youtube videos, some fast track courses, and books. It was off and on learning, so it was not serious learning. More like learning as you go. Every year, I swore to myself I need to take my Spanish learning seriously, somehow it drag and drag til the end of the year and wound up learning not much.

We made out passionately. Seconds later, I asked if he was ready for the main course. He said yes. I grabbed the condom and lube from my pouch, put it on him, and lubed myself ready to sit on him.

I was tight when I sat on him. After a few attempts, it became smooth and wet. We faced each other when I was riding him. He sucked my nipples when I humped my ass up and down on his big meat. I rode him like a pornstar. After a few humps, we switched to doggy style - my favorite position. Oh god.......I can feel his entire 7 inches cock sliding in and out against my orifice. I was moaning so loud, he thrusted me harder. The mirror in front of the bed reflecting our images, we looked at it as if we were in a gay porn scene, somehow the mirror image made him even more turned on. He grabbed my meaty ass and pound hard from behind. I was so turned on seeing myself in the mirror getting deep by a Spanish cock, somehow my dick gone semi-soft. He fucked me in doggy for quite a while. He flipped me over laying on my back, I brought both of my legs up, welcoming him with opened legs. He slid it in easily as my hole was loose and lubed. We were making out passionately as he thrusted his cock inside of me. 

"Te gusta (you like it) ?" I asked as he sliding inside of me with deep and long stroke.

"Si, me encanta, mi amor. (yes, i love it, my love.)" I was elated. Euphoric. And breathless. Never in my life someone would say that to me, let alone speaking in Spanish - it happened during SEX! It was so beautiful I could cry. He kept pounding me hard. His breaths were short and heavy. The next moment, he was hugging me hard, and cried out with pleasure as he cum inside me.

We kissed as we moved away from our sweaty body. His house was so humid it actually made my dick soft. I think he noticed that too. But I actually enjoyed the pounding. We washed ourselves and cuddled in bed and talked. 

He asked why I knew Spanish. So I told him my learning journey. He was impressed. Then we got to know each other a bit. He is from Barcelona, he followed his bf, who is a local Malaysian, to KL as his bf wanted to move back here. They both met when his bf studied in Europe or something, and stayed at his place as AirBnb for quite some time. They both got closer and became a couple. And they went through a lot like dead and alive situation. It made them becoming more closer as a couple. They have been staying here for 6 months. His bf was at work during that time; He worked from home at odd hours, therefore, he can have sex. They were in a open-relationship - that made so much sense then. He told me he had met plenty of local guys here for sexual fun. I was surprised at the amount of guys he met in the span of 6 months living here. I guess when you are Foreigner , everybody wants you - this applied to him apparently.

Then, we chat little bit more. We made out a bit. Next thing I knew, his cock grew rock hard again.

"round 2?" I smirked.

Without hesitation, he grabbed the condom and put it on and slide into my loosen ass with ease. We were in missionary. I guess that was his favorite position. We fucked for a while and he came.

At that point, my ass was fried. We cleaned ourselves up, and got dressed. Before I left, we made out again by the front door. Gosh, he was such a great kisser. I pulled myself off before we got into round 3. 

"Hasta luego." I waved at him before I left. 

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2 weeks later, he asked me over again. We fucked passionately. Somehow I just didn't feel right. He came quite fast. I wasn't hard during the whole session. I was unsure why. Probably the humidity in his house? After sex, we cuddled and talked for a while. He got a message from his phone. He checked it and said, "oh shit, I was supposed to meet this guy just now. He is waiting down stairs for me, but I met you instead. I totally forgot!" As if on cue, I told him it was fine I shall make my leave and feel bad for the guy waiting downstairs while you were fucking me. He felt guilty for the guy and for me too. But he has no choice but to meet the guy since he was already there. We made out again by the front door. I left with a wet mouth.

Since then, we never met again.