How come it hurts when it looks so good?

Yes and before anyone starts getting any ideas, most of the time it hurts a little no matter how seductive "it" looks. And you all know exactly what I am talking about here. So, lets not play around the bush.
Now we have this out of the way, we can discuss what else hurts that looks so "inviting"?
Handsome, attractive and disarmingly charming men of course.
Bio-hazardous objects.
They look so good and hurt. Hurt so badly.
And this blog is about awkwardness and the wrong kinds of people at the wrong times.

Maybe one day someone will survey Egyptian masculinities and public representations of sexuality but till then I will have to present whatever "stereotypes" I encounter along the way.

The setting was the usual one, somewhere out in this crazy city with friends. I am a firm believer that in this world you are only six-degrees separated from anyone else. And I was one degree separated from a gorgeous, adorable young man.

A friend of a friend is how it is said.

A brief sketch would be a boy of twenty-something of age, shiny black hair, monkish looks and a killer smile.

An engineer, engaged to be married and an "exclusive" top. It’s a shame if you ask me. For he has such a cute, pert butt.

Now, for a strange and ambiguous reason, this young, fine gentleman was interested in moi. Of all the gay people out there. A morbid, eccentric queen of a bitter, vile nature. Not to mention intellectually pretentious and a self-declared classist!

Why?

I did not turn him down, mind you dear reader. Despite my awareness, full awareness of his situation. That was wrong. I was being a moral hypocrite. I lectured and preached about morality and here I am flirting my ass off with a would-be married man (not really a man, more of a man-child). What did that make me? And where did it place me along the line of those who slam their principles against the wall at the very first chance of a "good-time"?

But there is a God. And there is Karma. And what comes around must go around. And bees sting and roses prick. And I was objectified, sexually objectified. With little stress or attention to any other aspect of my existence.

And my redemption and his redemption came at the hands of an intense, crazy Pisces. With their fierce sense of justice, they are the moral police of the zodiac. The girl attacked my gentleman caller, in hope that he might reconsider his situation.

Its no fair for that poor girl he is engaged to, no matter how charmingly he goes about his "sexual perversions" its still not right.

I could see the heterosexist indignation all over this. But I too knew very well, that it was not fair or right. No matter how much aversion or moral decrepitude do I think heterosexualism entails.

It was not fair.

And the gentleman caller realizing that he could live forever on his charm alone, and his beguiling, disarming charm, and that at some point he will have to own to it, to actually take up the responsibility of formal engagement to some poor girl.

It hit the poor guy suddenly. And I, cock-teasing or not, sensed this change, and could no longer tease..

(to be continued)