Don’t worry about me, I’m well fucked!

Everything comes to an end. Love, hate, betrayal. The greed for wealth, the lust for power, the comfort in religion. In the final moment, everyone falls, even kings of empires and the princes of darkness. In the silence of the tomb we all get what we deserve. These are words I acclimatized my fine self with when I finally finished Eric Van Lustbader’s First Daughter so if you read the title of this and expected more graphic details; I apologize though I don’t mean it.  It’s really been a while since I graced T.S.R’s End of week segment but I am glad I’ve had all these adorable people doing their thing at least to make us have something to ponder about before we head to our weekends which are normally full of Sin. Beautiful sin.

There is a scenario I beg to reminisce. I was once awakened slowly, almost groggily, by a repeated rhythmic sound and a persistent sensation. Drawn fully out of sleep, I realized it was pain. I felt pain and pressure in a localized area, the place between my buttocks. It was then that I realized that the rhythmic sound and pressure were connected. He held me tight against him, sweat stuck on the surface of my back, spooned against his front and a peculiar musky scent dilated my nostrils. I felt something rubbing against my bare butt…I was well fuck*d!

The bottoming article is long overdue and the only justice I have for you my noble reader is that I have to get it out soon to relax some nerves. Hope the Identity boss is ready because it was his idea and I’ll first run it there.                                             
My dating patterns are a bit off again since I took up this new assignment. My usual suspects had to remind me I’m gay and I need to ‘socialize’. Well, I’ve said it here and again. No one can self-combust due to the lack of a rod. I mean what’s the work of ‘toys’ but then even these have been MIA. But then I’m still on that voyage of having Balanced dating opinions but most guys still have this thing going on in their heads: ‘I have to f*ck you before moving on to my next, I’m like Honey, I’m not a conquest. Sex on my terms! Usually they dismiss me at this point and create all those excuses including the coveted B*tch title yet I’m sure they aren’t getting any. The code is pretty clear; you can always tell a person you’ll simply sleep with on a first date (and end it there), the guy you’ll just string along for no apparent reason and the guy you’ll want to get into that emotional co-dependent shitstorm with. In the words of Izaak, when you met me I wasn’t a virgin…read between the lines.

I still can’t predict the future of T.S.R considering all these developments happening on my end but what I can assure you is more content, more controversial guests and more maximizing of your Heartless Bitch Potential (HBP). The weekend is pretty unpredictable for me but I think I’m already a couple of men ahead of humanity so they are not for me this weekend (some guy I was actually getting to like killed my sensitive spirits by asking me how many people I’ve stripped for, Hello! I should really enroll in a class, anyone who kept a piece of the memo? Now I hope you understand why I agreed to do this Circular dating thing) but I have this awesome invite to go speak to some great young people. I have my notes ready. It’s been a while since I really got involved in inspiring my generation - I’m the de facto prince of bad advice remember? - OMG and what’s with all these stories of reknowned people coming out? I definitely believe it’s a great mid-year precedence, don’t you think? Maybe someone should visit T.S.R and 'come out' as well. I don’t mean coming out in the aspect of good grooming and/or fashion.     

'Of course you Zegas dress well! You didn't spend all that time in the closet for nothing...' - KF

 

Have a great weekend, put some rubber on it if need be, we talk to you Tuesday, Kisses!

Cole Mutahi