"Bulge mo na lang kulang."
The Bag Hanger posted on my timeline after he caught me teasing another Twitter friend, whose bulge I claimed was a face towel tucked under his shorts.
"Show it. Share to us." He dared.
Victorian Age prudery requires that I should have never accepted his challenge. After all, I am dealing with social media accounts whose owners love posting pictures of their weenies and bulges for all to see. While I do condone their behavior, I recall saying on the same social media platform before that I don't talk to dicks. Hence, the blocking of several accounts whose display pictures show their family jewels instead of faces.
So what happened?
In the age of selfies, with Kim Kardashian "Breaking the Internet," to show off your private parts has become the "cool" thing especially for people with exhibitionist streak. Maybe it's human nature defying old taboos, or perhaps the joy of being unchained from the bounds of propriety.
All I know is it tempers the libertine leanings, while providing space for sensual expressions.
All I know is it tempers the libertine leanings, while providing space for sensual expressions.
In a lifetime that precedes the Gundam Age, I too, have caved in to the digital needs of the flesh. It was the next best thing given the risks and troubles of live act performance. Having a high-resolution camera attached to the phone made it easier to snap pictures of the hard-on and send it to the playmate who is expecting some visual delights.
There is nothing to hide. This was part of the trade-off.
And since this new dare was a sort of gentleman's agreement with lads, who still see me not as playmate but a friend, my hope is that the gesture to post the hardcore photo through private message was meant to show that I'm not as snooty as many people have impressions of me.
So one morning, despite the biting cold, and a boner that refuses to cooperate, I laid on my back after pulling down my jerseys. And after fondling the junior (while conjuring memories of past encounters) until it gets to a point that the pole stands stiff, albeit showing signs of limpness, I positioned my Sony Xperia's camera some distance away from the shaft, so the flattering shot impresses the recipients.
"Because I promised."
A private note I composed attached to the picture.
"Enjoy!"
Hours later, both lads sent a collective response.
"Sarap."
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