How Could You Just Let Go?

Crying Games

One stuffy afternoon, many years back, I had company in my room. He’s someone I met from IRC, the in-thing back then, before MSN messenger, Gay.com and Fridae, together with its wannabe sister Axcest, infiltrated the local online cruising scene.

I could not recall much detail of the fun we had, that was because it got memorable only after the climax was out of the way. I remember we were in an embrace, he on me, and I was just waiting for him to finish the session perhaps with a comment about the hot weather and the need for a quick shower, or the amount of work waiting for him back in the office. But he held on and stayed very still. And then something very strange happened.

He started to cry.

It was a muted sob at first, coupled with intermittent sniffing, which I brushed off as the symptoms of a momentary lapse of the body’s defense system after a (good) climax. But the sobs quickly accelerated in pace and intensity, becoming more and more definite with each turn. And soon the writhing began, limbs started to shiver and then got contorted in an awkward way, as though trying hard to fight the onslaught of pain. Finally the reservoir of grief could hold no longer, and it quickly degenerated into an ensemble of acute display of defeat.

Utter defeat.

Over my body ran streams of tears that picked up my sweat along its path, before rolling off and landing on the bed. The mid afternoon sunlight filtered through the fading curtains and threw a cloak of intricate pattern of twigs and flowers on our entangled limbs, and then this peculiar matrimony of bodily deposits was complete.

I started to feel his pain, the indescribable urge to tear your aching heart out of your ribcage. Yet I have no idea what or who caused this. Perhaps I could, if he has allowed me a few years of exploring the scene, if only I know of the sheer brutality that this queer world is so capable of. But at that time, I did not move a muscle, or say a word. It didn’t seem necessary at all.

Before long, there was silence.

The stream of tears finally run dry, his eyes incapable of any further onslaughts of sorrow. Slowly, he lifted himself from me; his face was a wet clutter of twisted expressions. I looked at him and lifted my hand to trace it across his cheeks, wiping away the concoction of tears and sweat along the way. He looked back at me and broke into a weak smile.

So from the depths of the fathomless pool that had consumed him earlier, he rose again, freed and liberated, for now, from the dark water of yesterday. The sorrow had subsided, banished once again into the darkest recess of his subconscious mind. He turned and looked towards the bedroom window, and took a deep breath.

“Hey, didn’t notice the pretty curtains earlier.”

••

We didn’t meet again after that afternoon, but the image of his weak smile after the broke-down solidified in my memory as a single moment of renewed hope and new-found peace.

Life just goes on, doesn’t matter how painful it gets.

Nothing.

What does five hours of hugging in the sweat-choked air of One Seven really mean?
What does saying “I’d be happy to have a boyfriend like you.” really mean?
What does sending late night ‘missing you’ SMS’s really mean?
What do 'dearie' and 'cutie' really mean?
What do virtual hugs and kisses really mean?
What does waking up at 5am and taking a 5-hour bus journey to KL really mean?
What does holding hands in the car braving a late Friday evening bumper traffic really mean?
What does taking a stroll across the KLCC park on a drizzling Saturday afternoon really mean?
What does making weird noises on my stomach while saying 'hujan' really mean?
What does falling asleep together and waking up the next morning in each other’s arms really mean?
What do all the discussions about moving to a neutral city and staying together really mean?
What does “We’ll make this work.” really mean?
What does “I love you.” really mean?
What does 'critisize' really mean?
What does "You're stressing me out" really mean?
What does cool-off period really mean?
What do you really mean?
What do I really mean?
What does anything at all really mean?

BRAVEHEART ^[105]

A Songkran Miracle

Perhaps it’s never meant to last. I raised my legs onto the bench, wrapped my warms around them, and let my body loose its balance so that I would tip towards you. We looked each other in the eyes. Another train arrived at the Siam Skytrain station. Did we see the farewell episode playing already?

You still have powder on your face. Why the longing glance. I pulled my shirt towards you and wiped them off, slowly tracing the perfect contours of your smile. If I could also wipe away the memories of this Songkran miracle, maybe we could then happily go on our separates lives, you a figure in a 9-million strong population, and me an unsuspecting tourist on a festive sightseeing.

We shall never have tried the bitter-sweet taste of a tight embrace in an even more tightly packed G-Star, or the wicked sensation of ice-cold water down the spine, or locking hands in the cinema, or running across the water fountain in front of Paragon.

But your first smile in 39 Underground, I will bring with me to the grave.

It’s never meant to be, why did we hang on. Staring out a quiet KL skyline towards your city, and then at the AirAsia website, I realized the missed calls won’t do, doesn’t matter how many times we exchange them everyday.

It’s never meant to be, why did we hang on.

BRAVEHEART ^[104]

Mandi Manda: A Map of Indulgence

(click on images for larger views)

In celebration of more than a year of undivided support from the sauna-going population of KL, Mandi Manda has embarked on a new wave of improvement that sees the opening of an entirely new maze area in Mandi Manda, complete with more rooms and the introduction of a themed dark room dedicated to S&M worshippers. Fans can also look forward to a gym and web surfing section that are planned for the old maze area. Not quite close to Thailand and Singapore yet but we're getting there.

What We All Aspire To Be ...

Heartbreak Needles

“We prefer that you close your eyes to avoid any accidents.”

The doctor’s voice was as calm as the sea, but the evil apparatus in his right hand signaled a fast approaching storm. I held tight to both sides of bed and for a brief moment, forgot again why I was subjecting myself to such a trauma.

The tri-beveled hypodermic needle soon punctured a hole on my skin’s surface. Its sharp edges tasted blood and quickly set off to work, maneuvering in a repetitive back and forth movement to cut away fibrous tissues as far as its blades could reach. The pain got worse with every twitch; I felt tears collecting in my tightly shut eyes, and so opened them slightly to release some pressure just in time to catch sight of blood-stained cotton buds being removed from my face.

And then I remembered why I need to do this.

Subcision is painful, but as half as bad as heartbreaks.

Rainy Sunday Morning

I was awaken by the gentle tapping of raindrops on the window. Turned and found the twin towers gone. The weather had finally taken a pleasant change. Pulled the comforter up all the way to my nose and realized that I hadn’t had the aircond switched on. The dirty laundry from last night was still lying on the floor.

Said my goodbyes to hot, stuffy nights.

Said my goodbyes to a 7-year-old relationship.

Caught with Pants Down!

KUALA LUMPUR: It was an afternoon of chaos and pandemonium at Fitness First Manulife. At 3:45pm, the manager received an urgent call from the front desk staff relating a horrifying event that had taken place at the men changing room.

“I was utterly speechless! How could anyone do such a revolting act to the poor mannequin?” A member who declined to be named was heard commenting immediately after the faithful event.

“I hope they put the person who’s responsible for such grievances and shame to justice!” Another lady gymmer who had managed to catch a glimpse of the gruesome sight said in between tears.

Rumours had it that the management had initially taken active steps to stop the spread of this news by issuing a 3-year free membership to all gymmers who were (un)fortunate enough to witness the event. However, all staff had declined to comment further.

In an unexpected press release issued later on the same day, the management then expressed shock and regret of the event, and has pledged commitment to taking active measures in creating a more conducive environment to allow more uninhibited expression of physical attraction between human male gymmers, which they believe will put a stop to these unspeakable acts.

I Cannot

I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.

But I will.

BRAVEHEART ^[103]

A Dimple Festival

The neighbourhood hummed a subtle tune of peace and desolateness that seemed to spiral deeper into the wee hours of the morning this first night of the year of the boar. I emerged from the compound of my apartment and caught you standing across the street from the guard house.

It seemed like ages ago since I last did this, but it certainly didn’t feel out of place. We would stick to the universally accepted agenda of going for a drink, evaluating the chemistry, have sex or say goodbye.

Sometimes, it doesn’t work.

••

I landed on the fabulously cozy bed and let out a helpless gasp as I lost all mental facilities to fight the urge of joining the throng of other IKEA shoppers in various embarrassing acts like taking photos while lying down in the bathtub or in front of their dream kitchen, or having a make-believe reunion dinner around the dining table, or struggling intensely to figure out how the LACK storage sticks to the wall with no visible support. You came to my rescue, failed miserably and landed right next to me. We stayed in this position for time immemorial, digging ourselves further into the comforter, legs dangling freely off the edge of the bed. Our eyes met.

“Let’s do it here!”

“ … ”

••

You were frantically toying with my hand, scratching and slapping and pinching it, as though it was the puppet we saw at the children section just now. I moved our trolley further into the giant cargo lift to disappear behind the equally gigantic ang moh in front of me, and hopefully away from the glances of other shoppers. Felt like ramming the Gorm storage long post into you, and then you flashed me that cheeky dimpled smile which melted the post and brought me down with it.

••

“Can I hug you?”

You turned over and were already resting half your weight on me before I could say yes. The timber strip flooring beneath us felt dusty from the renovation works that were still in progress, but nothing could really hold our passion back. As I felt your lips roam my neck, I looked out the floor-to-ceiling window and caught the KL skyline, and was confused if my short of breath was because of you or the breathtaking view outside. At this instant, the world was divided between a stuffy empty bedroom with two naked guys making love on the floor, and a peaceful 4am morning this second night of Chinese New Year.

I'll need to get the blinds installed soon, and the bed fixed as well of course.

••

The neighbourhood hummed a subtle tune of peace and desolateness that seemed to spiral deeper into the wee hours of the morning this third night of the year of the boar. You jumped out of your car and came around to open the door for me. It still couldn’t be opened from within. There was a certain unmistakable sorrow in the air as you walked me to the guardhouse, we didn’t make the effort to put them into words.

I stood there at the pavement, long after you left, your dimpled smile stuck in my mind like a ravenous leech on a juicy limb, and then I wondered if the whole episode ever happened.

BRAVEHEART ^[103]

How To Jump Queue At The Cinema Ticketing Lines Without Being Cursed At

Just proceed to the (normally) underutilized ticket reservation counter, of course! Didn’t book a ticket? Just pretend you did la! Here’s how it work:

You: Hi! I’ve got a booking for ABC movie. My booking number is ...

(Now, cook up an imaginary 6-digit booking number in your mind, and say it out loud slowly, number by number. For added convincing power, you may consider shutting your eyes intermittently as though concentrating hard to fish the number out from the deepest fold of your cerebral cortex. Alternatively, you may save this number onto your mobile phone before hand and flash it to the staff instead.)

Staff: (Keys in your booking number into the ticketing system that should promptly return no results, as expected) Cannot find la!

(If the imaginary booking number miraculously returns a valid booking, forget your movie and run to the nearest TOTO outlet to buy a lottery ticket. You’re next-in-line for the multi-million ringgit jackpot.)

You: Cannot be! I just booked yesterday only. Can you check again? This is like the fifth time already that you couldn’t find my booking!

(For extra dramatic effects, the above line should be delivered while going through a colourful emotional journey that starts with shock, then painful recollection, and finally anger. Gifted drama queens will find this as natural as ordering a Starbucks frappo.)

Staff: What to do. I think the system was down yesterday. That’s why.

(The staff shall remain unapologetic, as expected. However, you should show no signs of giving up. Insist that your booking number be checked and rechecked to confirm.)

You: Can you check again ah please? I purrrrrposely wrote down this number yesterday in case I forget you know. How can cannot find? Check again laaaaaaaa.

(After the third try, he/she would have given up and switch over to the regular instant ticket purchasing screen instead. You will now be entitled to select any of the seats available to the long lines of customers with no bookings. Minus all the waiting, of course.)

(Now go practise.)

Climax Number 39

If all the posing and flirting and squealing and naked parties and orgies are getting to you this 2006 Christmas, head over for some jamming sessions with the new Bodyjam Release 39! It's just wicked.

Warm up:

Isolations:


Bollyjam #1:


Bollyjam #2:

Those Words Unspoken

Those words unspoken, reflected in their full glory on the full length mirror of the studio during an over-crowded Bodyjam class, more vivid than the over-zealous screams of the instructor. I turned back and caught sight of your intense glance before the recovery track, why do you look sad.

"You enjoying your first Bodyjam class?"

Those words unspoken, like misty breath that expired in the warmth of the refreshing showers just as soon as they were exhaled. We pressed our right palms on our own sides of the frosted glass partition, and savoured the quiet passion of stolen pleasures as we imagined the partition out of existence.

"The water is getting cold."

Those words unspoken, just a painful longing to break through a dry throat that quickly dispersed into the breezy post-dinner night air. I stared ahead and watched as our briefly crossing paths of life start to untangle and went on separate ways again. My hands bent involuntarily in your direction as we neared our goodbyes, but they would never have the courage to meet yours, not in the company of your rightful owner.

"Till we meet again?"

Hearts are often broken
When there are words unspoken
In your soul there's answers to your prayers

Whitney Houston - Waiting to Exhale

Tales from Taipei: A Trail of Cigarette Smoke

A trail of dreamy cigarette smoke lifted gently from the depth of the suffocating darkness tucked in a quiet corner of the corridor, then lingered hesitantly around the muted lamp hanging off the ceiling, before finally dissipating into the still cold air of the darkroom maze.

"Maybe the next one."

He awoke with a piercing pain on his right index finger. The expiring cigarette was biting into his crumbled fingers with its last breath, before its ashes finally collapsed and scattered carelessly onto the floor. For the longest time, he stared blankly into the spiralling void in front of him, and forgot momentarilly what sense were all these making. The sofa beneath him suddenly became unbeareably uncomfortable for his feeble limbs, and he shifted his weight and plunged once again into its sunken cushions.

"You have witnessed the passing of my youth."

Further down the corridor, a door creaked open slightly, just wide enough to allow someone to slide out. He took a deep breath and welcomed the distinct stale smell coming from the room, from which nestled pleasant memories he would helplessly bring again and again into focus. It was these episodes that had made life so vividly real for him, yet they would only now remind him, with every fresh recollection, of the strikingly painful contrast they had with his pathetic existence now.

"I remember someone."

He was lost even within this familiar surrounding of which he had frequented since as long as he could remember. A sudden coldness enveloped him, and he struggled to lift his arms upwards closer to the lamp, throwing shadows of himself onto the blackened partition walls. And then he remembered the discoloured splotches on his arms that he had tried so hard to conceal, and sank low back into the sofa again.

"What time is it now?"

Into the long night of darkness he sat, waiting, patiently, tirelessly, for the last climax of his life, until the night arrived, when all the grieving voices within him sighed unanimously for the last time and fell silent.

Whatever our struggles and triumphs, however we may suffer them, all too soon they bleed into a wash, just like watery ink on paper.
- Memoirs of a Geisha by Arthur Golden

Tales from Taipei: The Hotspring

A quiet breeze swept down from the late October night sky, gently climbed the cascading flow of steaming hot spring water making way into the big pool, before caressing the Hokkien-speaking uncle in deep thought by the pool, and then it twirled playfully past another one who’s just stripped and walked in, and finally settled down on my lap.

“Shall we?”

Tales from Taipei: A Pussy Story

Pussy was confused.

Right from under the piles of unrewarding rubbish that she was rummaging through, she was certain she had heard the call for her, and had immediately crossed the road to the rows of dining tables arranged along the walkway of the busy Xi Men Ding shopping district, and in the midst of her enthusiasm, nearly got run over by a flashy beamer on the way to hell.

But now, while she looked up intently to the source of the call just a few seconds ago, she was merely staring into rejection and disappointment. Her growling stomach signaled her to meow for attention and assurance that she had not heard wrong, yet only the faintest squeal broke through, drowned now in a fresh burst of laughter triggered by perhaps a joke told, not just by anyone, but by the one diner who had fished her out from the rubbish dump.

Before her extended presence attracted spurts of water or shoos from the rest of the crowd, she would need to leave the table and head back across the road again.

But she kept her ears propped up helplessly, for she would ran across again as soon she was called.

Never mind the rejection.

Pecah

“Lolitaaaaaaaaaaa!”

A thundering supersonic boom, started off as the most innocent rumble, rose into a tidal wave of epic proportions, and came rushing towards me. Traveling at the blinding speed of light, it started about 20 feet away, right from the entrance to the men changing room, rapidly picking up magnitude and force, past the sporty tai-tai browsing a pathetically aging collection of VCD titles at the lounge, and a group of giggly Bodyjammers waiting at the glass door to the studio, before finally hitting me.

I thought I went into an immediate cardiac arrest.

Fighting to contain the rapid spread of immobilization of my limbs due to the abrupt interruption of oxygen-rich blood flow, I maintained my composure and started turning my head sideways, left and then right, then left again, in a faithful and hopefully convincing act of searching for that illusive lady who seemed to have ignited such passion and excitement in the Bodyjam instructor this evening.

Unfortunately I had not seen the last of the paralyzing display of public shame. I might as well have been paraded around wrapped in a rainbow flag. (But then most Malaysians are too ignorant to know what that signifies anyway.)

“Come on, Lolita! Jam it up, Lolita!”

I would need to twist my limbs out of their sockets to jam any harder, that is if the staff had not come to escort me out on suspicion of designer drug abuse, yet the encouragement was incessant, strikingly crystal clear against the dizzying beat of the cardio through recovery tracks.

It must be the sleeveless tee I wore today.

“I noticed you normally don’t shower one. How to cruise you like that?!”

The aftershock resonated against the walls of crowded changing room, bouncing off the wooden lockers and reaching the furthest and most remote corners of the steam room, the toilet cubicles and the shower stalls. And I was promptly administered a pinch on the left arm.

Then there was a suffocating dead silence, and I saw an uncle dropped his fresh underwear.

“Oh! Have you met Michael, er I mean Michelle already? By the way, where is your sister ah? Still jerking off in the showers ah?”

The uncle seemed to be having some trouble putting on his underwear.

“Ah! You please remember to come for my pre-Christmas class ok! The theme is going to be RED and WHITE! I promised the gals already! What? Wear this ah? Can la! Just wear the top with white underwear.”

I picked up my phone and pretended to make a call, while rapidly strategizing an escape plan.

“Boyfriend calling is it? What? Mum waiting for you for dinner ah? Ok lah, see you next week ok!”

The uncle finally managed to pull his underwear all the way up after executing a few balancing hops with one leg in the air.

I pretended to be shy while passing by him.

He’s kinda cute, I hope he’s gay too.


* All names have been changed to protect the sisterhood's integrity.
* 'Pecah': A Malay word that means 'Broken'. Used widely among the gay community to refer to the disclosure of one's homosexual tendendies, intentionally or otherwise.

Kakiku: A Map of Indulgence (Updated)

(Click on image for larger view)

Okay, maybe this time the experts can go figure out yourselves what's new with Kakiku. Compare this with the previous update and have a little spot-the-difference game ya!

原来台北

彩虹会馆黑房区的走廊边，在一处较黑暗的角落里坐着一位连行动都不是很方便的老头子，大概钓鱼钓了老半天都没成绩，闷得呼呼大睡起来。时光在他身上早已流失，在一抬头一叹气之间，他努力争取人生的最后一场高潮。华丽的偶像剧和娱乐节目背后，原来台北也有彷徨。

在西门町的一间小戏院里与林林和丽嘉观看了一出热门的同志电影《盛夏光年》。开戏五分钟前来了位二十多岁的女生，一个人拿着爆米花汽水坐了在我旁边的座位上，在最感人的那一幕也只是静静地拿着手巾往眼里擦。260多万人口的大都市里，原来台北也有寂寞。

公司会馆里讶异地发现了中年人士们的天堂。贱肉横生的身躯乘着暖暖运作的电梯，从黑漆漆的电影间到灯火光明的餐厅，从播着过气台语歌的karaoke房里到热烘烘的洗澡间。我们立时变成了小孩子。全世界可以崇拜青春洋溢的乳牛群和帅哥族，可是原来在台北这，小熊们才是上等的好货色。

有一晚闯进了228和平公园，想象自己去到了《孽子》里五十年前精彩缤纷的黑暗天地里。原来除了厕所里的几只赏鸟族和随着行人道默默兜圈的那零零碎碎的影子们，曾经热闹过的莲花池早已在最后一根莲花拔起后失去光辉。

Funky 同志吧那夜被挤到了舞池边的巨型波音机旁弯着腰观看了一场还算精彩的签唱会，然后疯狂地随着强劲的中文音乐起舞。原来徐若瑄真的会唱歌。

旅程的最后一晚在西门町买了一串香喷喷的烤鱿鱼一个人坐了在行人道旁的梯级慢慢地一口一口将它吃完。不远处陪着我的有一位低着头猛按手机的女学生，一位闭着眼听着ipod摇着头的男生，一位在歇着息捡空瓶子为生的阿嘛，还有一位大概神志不清在街边便跳舞便唱歌的中年男人。在人潮不断的周六欢乐时光里，原来台北也有孤独。

筹备了五个月的台湾旅程，原来一转眼间就过去了。

The Uncle With Asamboi-Seed-Crushing Chest

I was having trouble conceiving a good reason why your eyes had lingered a little too long over me, or rather around the vicinity of my upper body. In a frenzied rush of post-Bodyjam cleaning and changing, I could find an endless array of tasty spots where I would lay my eyes on in this space choked with sweaty bodies in various stages of undress, but of course, I kept them focused on Sindy, who was just explaining frantically why he absolutely needed one full hour to clean up after unceremoniously abandoning me in the middle of the first recovery track.

You reached for your Adidas tee, but didn’t look like you would put it on anytime soon. (Gosh, that chest could crush an asamboi seed.) Sindy was finally done and left, while I simultaneously wrapped myself in a towel, did a quick check to see if I had anything weird stuck to my chest or abs, and bit my lips as a gentle reminder that this is definitely no Kakiku or Mandi-Manda and overdue glances are not to be mistaken as invitations for sex.

Not that the showers or the steam sauna are safe enough for this anyway.

I think I need a much more sensitive radar to sort out the queer folks here, I thought, as I slipped into an empty cubicle, hung my towel, and turn on the showers.

With the curtains drawn, of course!

Kakiku: A Map of Indulgence (Updated)

(Click on image for larger view)

Keeping the momentum going, Kakiku recently unleashed its final piece of previously unexplored real estate with the introduction of a freshly renovated foam shower area. This built-for-purpose action zone is tiled on the walls all the way to the ceiling, promising fuss-free fun for the fans of slimy, foamy action and even easier maintenance for the staff.

While this dedicated foam party area seems appropriate, extra revenue from a wildly loyal fan base was also invested in the oddly conceived idea for an adjoining washroom-like area built with a set of urinals and sinks.

No more reasons to pee while getting your assets savoured during the foam party, perhaps? How thoughtful.

Jam It, Baby!

“Oh my! Do we only have just one guy in the class today?” The Bodyjam instructor drew a fleeting glance at me and move on to scan the rest of the turnout, dressed, this Friday evening, in an assortment of dance pants and tracksuits, tank tops and vests, and eager for some action.

And then I guess he caught sight of his own reflection in the mirror, and promptly corrected himself with a giggle, “Oh! I meant, just two.”

But the music was already starting to play, and soon we were so collectively drowned in the adrenaline rush of the super posy smooth moves of the latin track that genders and sexual preferences were as irrelevant as a pillow on the dance floor.

This is absolutely more heavenly than group sex in the dark room!

“啊"一声之后

星期日傍晚，任淫淫撇开泡沫派对里一堆堆纠缠不清的身躯，唉声叹气地独自闯进了隔壁的炮房区。

“今天怎么搞的，来来去去都是那几件猪扒，太没趣了嘛，”她将毛巾松了开再费心思地包好，让一丝丝撩人的发菜与洁白的股沟若隐若现。

炮房区里显得冷清得连冷气机的低哼声也清楚听到，可是一扇扇房门却是关锁着的，看来生意还是不错。

踮起了脚尖让耳朵紧贴着房门，任淫淫在狭窄的走廊绕了一圈，听到了一波波逼切的啃噬声，柔弱的呻吟声还有激情的热吻声，听得她心头痒痒地，恨不得发功将房门全都推倒，好让她一睹为快后，再参与其中。

这时右排第三间房有了特发事件，里面被干的那位好像配了麦克风似的，毫不掩饰地将狭窄空间里每一个高潮迭起的剧情播放出来与众姐妹们分享。一阵阵刺耳的撕裂叫声立时传偏每个角落，让冷清的炮房区再次春风荡漾。

“啊。。啊。。。啊！”最后的那一声来得特别销魂，看来离高潮不远了。

任淫淫越听就越痒，越痒就越心酸,越心酸就越愤怒。

“知道你找了头好牛为你效劳，可也没必要那么嚣张嘛！”她心想。

她念头一来，立即把嘴巴紧贴了在门缝上，准备出功反击。

“啊。。。”房里头又在喊道。

“啊！啊！！” 任淫淫不甘失弱，有样学样地开始叫了起来。加工后的叫声夸张得让人毛骨悚然。

“谁？！”房里的活动立刻停止。一阵冷风开始向外挎起，让炮房区的温度迅速猛跌。“何方妖怪！?竟那么大的担打扰本教主的好事！”

任淫淫脸色大变，没想到竟那么倒霉，今天第一次发功就惹上了教主。她站在微微震荡的房门前，一时不知所措。

在神功未爆发之前，任淫淫还是乖乖地跪了下来，满口歉意地说道，“哎呀！原来是教主您。小人任淫淫不知天高地厚，竟不小心打扰了大人，请大人别动怒，等一下我再跟您抓个三四打乳牛补回！”一口气说完就起身向炮房区门口溜去。

一枚绣花针穿过房门迅猛地射了出来，可任淫淫早就消失了。

我爱Kakiku！/ I Love Kakiku! (As translated by google.com)

Oriental leader of the tiny towels under half of the pack, the curtain opened a lounge, blatantly kneel in the Koushou cousins walked in.

"Qi is so only it was gold ... hey? "She makes lateral, a man suddenly to be drawn down like a spine angle of the double beds while a single, immobile.

I can not help with big applause as a good thing, "the head of the crowd, but we have to be a leader who eat pretty jaded! "

"I know you are full of warmth between the three dishes, but you also receive! Just another bubble in the crowded party, was also shouting so loud that Menggan cows! Xiusi people really! "Yin Yin in the office next to the sour tone of jealousy and concern added a few more.

"This bad things, confident in front of me there! I finally saw the Acura lost playing time, he was a little sprite hit your foul whole, I have a bad good, "Jim sprung up from bed sheets, as Yin Yin Dazhanshenwei toward other people resorted to the embroidery needle Lane," I will let you smoke! See strokes! "

The last of the group a fright as Yin Yin delicate pale, and forced rather than shying away, but finally hid behind the A-di slim body, and they dared not come out.

"To Five other men injured sisters foul weather!" Lixia and tinkling in the side and said, "Jim and laying minute turn in the corridor do not have readily dozen months. "

"Do not steal anything just like it in a dark room under the two types of pigs!" I can containing added.

"You sense that the better! From the corridor went all out to everyone in the two read an excerpt called "sixty nine" with the Super Routuan, really like the acquisition of other people's money, which was commissioned to do a circus show touting? "Tinkling Mohaoqi forward to complain.

"It reminds me of the bar scene even dinner can be saved," Lixia cover the mouth said with a smile.

●

Good evening! Welcome to Kakiku. The Special Function starting now . Please enjoy yourself. The Special Function has starting . Yourself. Please enjoy.

●

Cordial voice broadcasting system to provide employers with warm every corner of the three-sided. Although a lot of words, to understand enough.

Tiaoliaoqilai founder of the first East, a loose mini is a treasure towels on the grounds to flush away to the entrance to the lounge. I can containing, as A-di Yin Yin and the feeling seems to have heard similar mission, Zayan disappear, only heard the sound of the corridor not far from playing sound, "unpopular sisters, it is time to start! "

我爱Kakiku！

东方教主打着对折一半的迷你毛巾，掀开了休息室的门帘，大摇大摆地在众姐妹们的下跪叩首下走了进来。

“哎哟！都那么齐人吗？”她屁股一扭，整个人像是突然被抽了脊椎似的倒了在房角的双人床单上，动弹不得。

任我含不禁大拍手掌叫好，“月头的人潮多，就连我们出了名大吃的教主也要被干得精疲力尽了！”

“我知道整间三温暖都是你的菜，但你也别拼了老命嘛！刚刚在人挤人的泡沫派对里被那乳牛猛干时还喊得那么大声！真的羞死人了！”在旁的任淫淫酸溜溜的语气，嫉妒多与关心地加了几句。

“你这坏东西，还敢在我眼前出现！我好不容易遇见了极品玩得起劲时，竟被你这臭丫头撞个整，坏了我的好事，”教主从床单弹起，向着任淫淫大展神威地使出葵花宝典里的绣花针，“我今天就要让你灰飞烟灭!看招！”

绝世神功一出，吓得任淫淫花容失色，被逼左闪右避，最后还是躲在了阿娣瘦长身躯的背后，久久不敢出来。

“别为了个臭男人伤了姐妹和气嘛！”丽霞与玲玲在旁说道，“教主等一下在走廊打个转不也随手抓个半打。”

“可别抓错了像刚刚在黑房打着种的那两只猪哦！”任我含接着说。

“你还好意识说！站在走廊拼命地逢人就叫了进去看那两只在"sixty nine"着的超级肉团，好像真的是收了人家的钱，被委托做了那马戏团表演的拉客？” 玲玲没好气地怨着。

“想起那一幕连晚餐也可省下了吧，” 丽霞盖住了嘴巴笑着说。


《Good evening! Welcome to Kakiku. The Special Function starting now. Please enjoy yourself. The Special Function has starting. Please enjoy yourself.》


广播系统让老板亲切的声音传偏了三温暖的每个角落。虽然语病多多，可明白就好。

东方教主第一时间跳了起来，松开了的迷你毛巾现了宝也没理地就冲冲往休息室门口走了去。任我含，任淫淫和阿娣也好像听到了天降使命似的，一扎眼就不见了人，只听到走廊不远处传来的嬉戏声，“哎！姐妹们，又是时候开工了！”

A Sunway Sauna Dream

The Martial Arts Teacher

The martial arts teacher turned back to give the figure coiled up in the bench in a dark corner of the walkway a second look and was soon sitted next to it. Huddled together in the tight space forgotten amidst the chaos of a busy pre-skin night crowd on a Sunday evening, his perfume quickly worked its way into the system, and in a deep, tacit way in which feelings fused and became stronger than thoughts, generated an overpowering sense of devotion and serenity that was so unlike the wild session moments ago.

A man of few words, the martial arts teacher preferred to share self-defense tips than offer a glimpse into the dark underworlds of his emotion-scape. Yet the simulated twists of arms and interlocking limbs afforded a much celebrated reprise of the physical proximity almost too overwhelming to relate.

“Grab hold of his hand, and twist his arm to break the punch, like this.”

What about the heart? Averting the onslaught of a tireless need for reassurance seems to require much more energy than breaking the most forceful punch. Your playful hand landed on my chest, I looked down and struggled to make out a blue-black spot in the dim light.

“Go home early, this is not the place for you.”

Give me a good enough reason to stay away, Mr Martial Arts Teacher, and I promise I’ll never return.

BRAVEHEART ^[102]

The BravingKL Sauna Scoresheet

Click on images for larger view

Kakiku: A Map of Indulgence (Updated)

(Click on image for larger view)

A relatively small update in this sixth revision of the Kakiku floor plan, with the addition of a new TV room near the private rooms area, and an increase in the number of lockers in view of increasing turnout especially on weekends.

Mr Philosophy And His Feet

Your anxious toes lingered around the leg of the grand mahogany dining table, like the graceful, calculated steps of a preying tarantula, and then reached out and with one sudden, powerful pounce, held on to mine in a tight knot.

Well below the cacophony of clanking cutleries and wine glasses and excited conversations, I fought your relentless need to reiterate the lurid passion of our first session. Your mischievous glances fell like broken arrows before reaching their target, yet between staring down at my food and up at the glittering chandelier that hung low above us, I thought I had caught sight of that perfect crescent of your lips yet again.

Entangled in a lurid passion of interlocking toes, I acted against every instinct of my nature, and suffered pangs after pangs of guilt as you continued your impish assaults on my leg with increasing fervor and courage.

Right below the eyes of your partner.

So it seems the assurance of the perfect open relationship (interpreted as ‘business partners’ in your explanation) justified this rampant display of disregard of him. A muted nod of approval from him would open up a floodgate of unhinged, uncontrollable expression of admiration for everyone else except him, and unleashed now, a torrent of irreversible damage, that seemed so much less perfect than the love story that he has treasured throughout the twenty over years.

Humming along his favourite Thai music piping in from the living room, he busied himself with serving food and entertaining four other guests. I watched, from across the dining table, his rather listless expressions and muted responses which laid in contrast with the colourful and tasteful deco of the warm dwelling. His eyes told of a distant loneliness void of happiness and contentment, was he echoing the same rich emotions as the singer?

I caught your longing eyes when bidding goodbye. He avoided mine.

● ● ●

He opened the door and invited me in. Immediately, the sight of the gleaming mahogany table with the glittery chandelier hanging low above it flooded my eyes for the next few minutes. That evening when I met him, it was exactly one year back before I met you.

“Nice place!” I fingered the mini crucifixes hanging down from the chandelier. “Your partner’s not in?”

BRAVEHEART ^[101]

Counting Cocks

Have you ever paid ridiculous sums of money just to be associated with numbers commonly regarded as auspicious for the Chinese? Of course, I would understand that you won’t feel secured driving around in a car with a license plat that reads ‘9413’ (literally: nine times die, one time survive), or feel blessed living in a house numbered ‘1458’ (literally: whole lifetime no prosper).

That still doesn’t mean we have to jostle with the rest of the entire straight world of oily-faced businessmen and diamond-ring adorning tai tai’s for that dream number.

No, we don’t. We simply need to redefine the word auspicious.

So here, is the list of BravingKL-approved gay-auspicious numbers for your consideration when the next car, house, hotel room or sauna visit (for the locker number) come around:

7373 (pronounced: chart sung chart sung, literally: cock thrive cock thrive)
You cannot go wrong with a thriving, throbbing cock that stands in undivided attention to the call of its master, ever ready and hungry for action.

7878 (pronounced: chart fart chart fart, literally: cock prosper cock prosper)
A prosperous cock is one that is in-demand, well-maintained and well-served. What more could you ask for?

9797 (pronounced: gau chart gau chart, literally: play cock play cock)
Yes, you’re gay and that’s what you should enjoy doing. No guarantee on the condition of the cocks, or of their respective owners though.

1197 (pronounced: yard yard gau chart, literally: day day play cock)
A cock a day keeps the PMS away.

1497 (pronounced: yard sai gau chart, literally: whole lifetime play cock)
A lifetime supply of cocks for your constant enjoyment. Now let’s hope it’s not just referring to playing your own cock.

4497 (pronounced: sai sai gau chart, literally: every lifetime play cock)
For firm believers in the concept of reincarnation, you would want to opt for this far more ambitious alternative. Technically, however, the statement still hold true even if you reborn as a straight girl.

1978 (pronounced: yard gau chart fart, literally: once play cock prosper)
It’s time to break the closet door! Come get your first taste of cock and you are on your way to earning big bucks.


Evil, evil numbers to avoid at ALL COST:

9714 (pronounced: gau chart sart sei, literally: play cock definitely die)
Go ahead and book this if you’re gay curious but decide to stay a virgin for the rest of your life.

1157 (pronounced: yard yard mm chart, literally: everyday no cock)
The curse many of us would rather die than to bear with. It’s various iterations like 57 and 75 are also a no-no.

1457 (pronounced: yard sei mm chart, literally: whole lifetime no cock)
The gay man’s ultimate curse, to be avoided at all cost.


And now, can you think of anymore to add to this list?

Kaku

Mataku kaku, dibiarkan lemas dalam lautan gambaran yang kini bagaikan anganan yang kian terluntur warnanya, detik demi detik, hingga yang tinggal cuma imbasan memori bersebaran dari episod lalu. Namun sejauh pandangan, mataku terus berjuang, menunggu sekelip sinaran harapan.

Tanganku kaku, dibiarkan berulang-alikan di tengah-tengah udara dalam kemalapan cahaya lilin, bagaikan dedaun kering yang kehilangan arah. Belasan tubuh berganti timbul dan hilang, tak satu yang mampu mencecah sentuhan kulitku. Namun selagi terasa kelembapan udara, tanganku terus berjuang, menunggu segenggam jejari yang tulus.

Kakiku kaku, dibiarkan berayauan di celah-celah tarian bebayang, di sudut-sudut terpencil, dari lorong sempit ke bilik gelap penuh aksi. Kepenatan terasa terlampau. Namun selagi terasa kedinginan lantai, kakiku terus berkeliaran mengejar destinasi yang maya, menunggu sesudut halangan manis yang dijanjikan.

Hatiku kaku, dibiarkan bogel dikelilingi harapan and janji kosong yang tajam, bersebaran dari setiap sudut and penjuru. Kepahitan datang membawa pilu, mencemari keghairahan yang hanya bersinggah singkat di setiap ruang sempit ini. Namun selagi terasa aliran emosi, jantungku terus berdengup menunggu seiris cerita dongeng yang kekal abadi.

Kaku. Dibiarkan kaku.

The Fisherman Story

Miss Mei Li’s expression was to die for. Contorted in a wicked blend of confusion, disbelief and concern, she clipped my workbook with just two fingers, lifted it slightly from her desk and then dropped it with a purposeful flick to send it sliding against the glass surface and finally coming to rest near the far edge of her table.

Rearranging her facial features in preparation for speech, she finally asked: “Why do you write this kind of story?”

The pressing inquisition was delivered with a tinge of anger and disgust in her voice, my fault it seemed, for having dragged her into the little twisted world of this eleven-year-old, of which after having a taste of, she could not possibly have gotten past her conscience to just ignore.

I could not recall what I said. Standing in front of the class braving the collective attention of forty pairs of eyes eager for some action on a boring extended afternoon session, my little mind could not comprehend this horrid consequence that seemed to have stemmed from a short composition submitted just the day before. What seemed more vivid while I continued to hang my head low during that awful fifteen minutes was a little spot of mud on my semi-retiring off-white shoes which I had missed concealing with white chalk that was stolen from the black board during recess.

Miss Mei Li quickly got bored of this fruitless inquest, the victim seemed redrawn in his own world, still, and could be brewing yet another shocker that may further taint the impressive record of this perfectly disciplined, well-mannered and well-dressed class of hers.

Perfect, except for this weird one whose shoes quickly became an eyesore the first day she caught sight of them since she took over from that no-good Mrs Tan.

And so I was dismissed to return to my seat. My workbook was never to be seen again. Perhaps she had set it on fire, forever banishing it from her memories in a self-denying bid to nurse her aching conscience, and I never quite write that kind of story anymore.

… In the evening, the fisherman pulled his boat to shore. He only caught three fishes today. He was sad. He took the three fishes back home. He found a rope at home. He didn’t find his wife. So, he left the three fishes on the table for his wife. After that, he used the robe and put it around his neck, and he hanged himself.

Kakiku: A Map of Indulgence (Updated)

(click on image for larger view)

In the fifth revision of the Kakiku floor plan, this friendly and unpretentious sauna has yet again upheld its pleasantly adaptive and progressive approach with the introduction of a misty jungle room, and a rearrangement of the locker area in a bid to improve its floor area usage, which sadly, continues to be its biggest shortcoming.

Just Another Caller

Anonymous Caller: Hi.

Braving: *notes unfamiliar mobile number* Hi?

Anonymous Caller: Erm.. May I know who’s on the line?

Braving: You’re calling my number and you don’t know who’s on the line?

Anonymous Caller: Oh, actually I was looking through my phone book and noticed that I used to call your number quite often. So I was wondering ...

Braving: Whoever I am, obviously the answer is not important anymore right now.

Anonymous Caller: Yeah, but... *starts mumbling*

Braving: Ok. Bye!


Don't waste time chasing lost memories, goodbye episodes don't happen for no reason.

Two Monologues & A Conversation

Braving: Oh gosh! *drags luggage into room, throws open lid in one deafening thud & starts pulling dirty laundry out* It’s so nice to be back! But I forgot how hot KL is! You know it never get anywhere above 15 degrees in San Fran, even when it was all bright and sunny outside and I had to remember my sunscreen before leaving the hotel room.

Roy: *collapses on top of dirty laundry on the floor and starts wriggling about* I can’t shake this hottie from work off my mind. *stares dreamily at phone* Oh gosh he’s got such strong arms. Here, look at this SMS that I sent him the other day. *shoves phone into face of Braving* I know he’s married and all, but do you think he would by any chance guessed that I have feelings for him? I’m so worried that I would freak him out.

Braving: *ignores phone in face and frowns while flipping through photos on camera in blinding speed* I thought four days were enough time to cover all the attractions, yet with all the excellent planning and organizing far ahead of the trip, I don’t understand why I could only squeeze 30 minutes to explore the gay district. However, seeing hunky uncles holding hands whispering sweet nothings into each others’ ears, lesbian couples locking lips bidding farewell, and gay sisters buying flowers from the street vendors are absolutely fabugalistic!

Roy: *buries face in phone* I didn’t get to see him today. He’s on leave. *digs into Braving's luggage* Erm, so you got some extra chocolates here, do you mind if I give one pack to him?

Braving: *caught sight of a brochure in the wastepaper basket* Oh are we having Japanese tonight? Reminds me of that last meal I had in Houston, with the Asian guy I told you about. It’s painful finding someone I like so much who is half the world away from me. I wonder what he’s doing right now. *stares dreamily at ceiling*

Roy: The other day I caught sight of his cock while we were peeing next to each other. *cups hand to hold imaginery thick rod* It was all hairy and black, but I could die for the chance to blow him right there and then. He just keeps adjusting it like all the time! I bet it grows REALLY big when it’s hard.

Braving: Gosh, you know I spent 8 bucks for a little cup of seafood cocktail at the pier but absolutely enjoyed it while shivering myself silly in the late evening chilly breeze looking at hungry seagulls that didn’t seem to be afraid at us tourists at all. *shows blurry photos of seagulls in the midst of a foodfight*

Roy: *puts cupped hands with imaginery thick rod really close to face and peers through fingers* His wife must be the luckiest gal alive! He was asking me the other day if condoms come in extra large sizes, I told him how to look for them, but then he said he’s not using any lately coz they’re trying to have their first child.

Braving: I’m missing San Fran already. *spreads visitors brochures all over the bed and spills them onto the floor together with the dirty laundry, chocolates, shoes, electronic gadgets & toiletries* I wanna go find a job and live there for a few years.

Roy: *throws phone down after catching sight of the clock* Hey! Are we going to the sauna today?

Braving: *shoves visitors brochures, camera, dirty laundry, chocolates, shoes, electronic gadgets & toiletries back into the luggage and shuts lid in one deafening thud* Oh! Oh! Who’s driving?