IF THE LOCAL boys can be bought (as my gay friends tell me), why do I remain sexless in my hometown?
You would think that with my money, I’d be a boy magnet!
I mean, in theory, if a fellatio goes for P150 a job, I can easily double the rate.
And I mean that.
In theory.
*
And if my gay friends are really my friends, why haven’t they pimped me already?
And here, they reply that they really don’t know my standards.
They are afraid that their recommendations won’t meet my high standards.
My friends are in awe of me.
They put me on a pedestal.
And it is not an easy position to find myself in.
*
The only man my friends saw me with was my late husband.
He was American.
Decent.
And as far as my friends are concerned, rich.
*
To this day, I’m always asking around what sex scandals people hear about me.
In Iloilo City, there is none.
Even in the large gay community.
Except maybe for my sex guru reputation that I have helped inflame in the newspapers.
And these days, that is not even a scandal.
*
In Dumangas, even among the most gossipy folks, no one has something scandalous on me.
And I can easily believe that.
Because I only wish I have some juicy sex scandals to make me even more famous.
*
I mean, sure, I’ve been seen kissing boys.
But they are only in my movies.
Those are just film kisses.
People understand that I am an actor.
And they know it’s just for Art’s sake.
*
I know most of my gay friends’ sex lives.
They brag about them as if to make me envious every time I sit down with them for gay talk.
And they tell me how they cry over boys, too.
Or, how cheaply they buy them.
Or, how often.
*
Sometimes, I would joke and ask for hand-me-down lovers.
I would even bring them to ukay-ukay with me to prove my point about second-hand treasures.
But they don’t get it.
They just think I’m very smart to go to ukay-ukay for my wardrobe.
But, of course, they understand that I prefer custom-made clothes that I design myself.
*
I will probably not get laid through my gay friends.
Even if I liked what boys I meet through them.
And that’s my dilemma.
I think too much.
*
I think legal age.
My gay friends don’t.
And by the time the boys I really like are legal, they already have extensive gay sex histories.
And, honestly, that’s kind of a turnoff for me.
And so, while the boys lose their virginity to my gay friends, I remain a virgin in my town.
*
When I sometimes say I want to be disrespected, I mean it this way:
I want the boys not to think of me in terms of “the” Peter Solis Nery.
But I also know it is virtually impossible to think that it can happen.
And so, in my town, even if I dream of being gang-raped, it probably wouldn’t happen.
*
There is this one boy I was flirting with.
I asked him if he finds me too old, too ugly, or too repulsive.
And he said, No.
In fact, he said that he liked me a lot that he would give up his budding modeling career to be in a relationship with me.
I’m really touched.
He is only fifteen.
So we just hugged the whole night that we were together.
And, of course, the night sky just wept while looking down on us.
*
Which is not to say that I do not get offers.
Believe me. I’m sexier in real life than in print.
So yeah, without my gay friends’ intervention, I also get approached every now and then.
Not the choicest hunks.
But grains going after chicken/cocks are still grains.
One time, I asked, For how much?
And the boy said, “(It’s for) Free. I just want to try the Peter Solis Nery.”
*
It was thrilling.
It was musical.
It appealed to my narcissistic ego.
Ang haba-haba ng hair ng lola ninyo.
But I got scared.
*
And that made me realize that, again, I won’t get laid.
That I am cursed to be my town’s last virgin gay.
Or, at the rate that teenage sex involvement runs in my town, I will be my town’s last virgin, period. (500tinaga@gmail.com/PN)
