(Continued from last Friday’s “Sugar Baby Be Like”)
THE key to a happy life at 40 or 50 is not giving up.
I flirt. I throw my fishing pole. I cast my net.
If I catch something, I milk it for as much as I can…
Just in case the fish wants to jump back into the ocean.
Or into the fires of hell.
*
I have very few regrets in life.
Even those years when I abstained from sex, when I held on to my virginity until 30, those weren’t so bad.
In fact, I think sexual abstinence made me a stronger, if not a better, man.
I can deal with sexual rejection.
I can survive on unrequited love.
*
I’m a big romantic even as I’m about to turn 50.
I still believe in the possibility of another special person coming to my life.
No, not my kid.
Seriously not entertaining a baby at this age.
If that person does not come, I’m okay.
I will die with my heart full of love and hope.
*
But I would want a boyfriend. Or a husband.
But only when he comes. Only when he comes.
I don’t need to stress it out.
If he doesn’t come, I’m okay just having fun.
I’m okay with boy toys.
*
I can afford boy toys.
Boy toys like me.
I like them.
It’s a mutual respect thing.
They can’t judge me because I already judged them.
*
I mean, if I haven’t passed judgment, if I haven’t chosen them, how can they even play with me?
Conversely, if they haven’t chosen me (so what, if it’s only for what I can do for them), how can I even play with them?
See?
It’s all mutual respect right there.
We respect the choices that each other make.
*
I’m not naturally slutty.
I know my place in the sun.
I only sound slutty because I can.
I mean, that’s my role as agent of provocation.
I am the lab rat of pushing the envelope.
Or maybe, it’s you who are my lab rats?
*
I’m turning 50.
Nothing turns me pink anymore.
No. That’s not really true.
I actually blush when a crush crushes on me.
And I still feel giddy when a younger guy buys me a drink.
Oh, and when he flirts?
I feel like a Rapunzel.
*
But what I mean is, I have no problems taking off my clothes.
Or taking off someone’s clothes.
At 50, it’s stupidity not to know how to unzip what needs to be unzipped at a certain time.
It’s even more stupid if you do not know what that exact time is.
Or that you should unzip whatever needs unzipping… at all!
*
Twenties is when you explore what you can really do as a young adult.
Like drink alcohol without hiding. Or without adult supervision.
Or giving consent to sex. Gay or otherwise.
And, of course, that sexual consent age means being able to really open up to the possibility of more than just the missionary position.
Paddles and fists, anyone?
*
I like sex partners in their twenties.
Because what is it that they really know, if at all?
I think they like me because I teach them a lot of things.
Like, I open them up to a world of possibilities, and seemingly impossibles.
And they like that I know what I’m doing.
*
It doesn’t mean that I control everything in these affairs.
Well, maybe I do.
I kinda let people think they have the control sometimes; even if true control is really in making them think that way.
I know it’s deceitful.
But how many of us would not actually lie to get laid?
*
And that’s the point of saying “I love you” when I just actually mean “I want you”.
You see, some people, like me, are suckers for those “I love yous”.
If you are anywhere near decent, and you tell me you love me, I’ll sleep with you all right, until I discover that you only wanted me.
For one night!
*
“I love you” is, more often than not, simply a mistaken phrase in this gay hook apps (yeah, I mean gay apps) generation.
It’s a corruption of what’s actually “I love yours”.
Yeah, that thing.
That’s the only thing they love.
And I’m okay with that.
For starters.
*
I have no real problem that there are not many real loves anymore left for a golden boy like me.
I mean, I have so much love in my heart to last me a lifetime.
If there are no takers, I don’t really mind.
Their loss, not mine.
But I’m not saving my body up until that real love comes.
*
My body, and whatever youthful juice it has at 50, is for the world.
I mean, for the takers.
If you want it, take it.
If you like it, try it.
If you love it, well, go on and make love to it.
I might end up loving you for it.
And wouldn’t that be amazing? (500tinaga@gmail.com/PN)
