Labels

     When the words "gay" and "label" come up, most people think Prada, Gucci, Pucci oh my! In the world of Gay, fashion isn't the only thing we categorize or put labels on. We have so many different labels, or classifications that we need our own wiki pages. The one most common labeling, or classification system we use (no it's not the Dewey decimal system), I like to call the Homo Labeling System, or HLS.

If you're not familiar with these, here are a few:

• Fag-Hag: Unattractive female who hangs out with a Homo for self esteem improvements.
• Fruit-Fly: Attractive female who hangs out with gay's because she realizes that they are the best accessory a girl could ever have.
• Diva: Fat black girl with a set of lungs. Sassy Female. Whitney Houston pre-rehab. P.S. Diva is not the female version of a hustler... Beyonce you lost homo points for that one.

My favorite Labels or classifications, are the ones we have set on ourselves. Here are just a few. For a complete list, there is a link at the end of the blog entry:

• Bear: Fat hairy homo. These gentle beasts range from hairy muscle-daddy to Sumo wrestler. He is generally a little older and the nicest guy you’ll ever meet, e.g. Random dude
• Cub: Younger, smaller version of a bear. I love seeing Bear/Cub couples... it's like seeing Yogi and Booboo - awe, e.g. Zach Galifianakis
• Otter: Unlike the "cub" or "bear" these boys are a bit slimmer, yet equally as hairy e.g. Chris Evans (yum).
• Twink: Usually under 25, feminine, slim to swimmers build. You can usually find them at H&M, Sephora, or at home watching Glee, e.g. Young Leonardo DiCaprio (physically. I'm sure he never watched Glee.
• Bottom: Takes it in the rear.
• Top: Gives it in the rear.
• Verse: Gives and takes.

     I had been working in Soho for a week, when I first saw him. He was the hottest Twink on the block. When you work next to Marc Jacobs, and Prada you're bound to run into some beautiful Twinks. Like any Soho Twink, he often wore Black skinny jeans or slacks, black or gray top. He always accessorized with dark tinted, and thick framed black hipster sunglasses. His left hand always held cup of coffee from the Dean and Deluca. Since no one ever really saw him sip from it, we were convinced that the coffee was just part of his outfit to complete his “Down Town” look. His right forearm arm was always carried a black leather man bag. His wrist, always face up.

    Twink worked on the 5th floor of the same building. There was no elevator, so I'm pretty sure walking up 5 flights of stairs contributed to that amazing Channing Tatum ass of his - which my gay colleagues and I had the pleasure of looking at a few times daily. The Boutique business was always very slow, so what better way to pass the time than some mental masturbation while staring at his ass? It got to the point that my colleagues and I placed a bet to see who would "tap that ass", but no one ever had the guts to ever make a pass. After a couple of years, I was relocated uptown and soon forgot about Twink and tapping that ass.

     After reading in one of my blogs that my recent 2 month sexual escapade with a hot doctor ended, a friend of mine referred me to an online dating site called OkCupid.com.

     "The site is awesome, and free!” he said. Free is a GREAT word when living in New York City.

     I signed up immediately, answered the "match" questions and the very next morning had a message in my inbox. Naturally I channeled my inner shallow Gay, and scoped out the photo's before reading the message. He was hot. Since he had passed the visual screen test, I went ahead and read the message:

Nov. 22, 2009 – 1:49am

“How're you? I recognize your face, but probably just from another dating site like Match or something I used to be on, haha. Anyways, fun profile and pics…
…write me back if you'd like,”
- Alec

     I didn't recognize him but I replied, and asked him out to dinner.

     Alec was a Vegetarian, so I had to look for a Vegetarian restaurant in Manhattan - which is not difficult to do. Most restaurants, although not totally Vegetarian, have Vegetarian options. The trick was to find a Vegetarian restaurant that I could still apply my #1 rule, which is: always find a Restaurant in his or your neighborhood. This increases your chances of getting laid by 80%. I arrived a tad late. This is my #2 rule. Arrive late so he's already sitting down and can't tell how short you are. I'm 5'6. By the end of the date (if it's a good one), he won't mind that you're 4 foot tall. As I sat down, he smiled. He had a beautiful smile. He was sexy, sassy, a bit fem - but he was pretty enough to pull it off. Pretty twinks can always pull this off. There's nothing worse than dating an Otter/Bear/Cub that moves and sounds like a woman... Gives me vertigo.

     The date went well. He was definitely not someone I would want to date long term, but he was definitely someone I'd want to have sex with for a couple of weeks, or show off at a party. I paid the check, and as he stood up to leave, he turned his back to me to grab his jacket. That was when I recognized him... or better yet, his ass! It was Twink!

     "I remember you!" I exclaimed.

     "You do?" he laughed nervously. I think my excitement scared him a bit.

     "Yeah. You worked at 141 Mercer? At the Magazine upstairs?"

     "Yeah... did you work at the shop on the first floor?"

     "Yes!" I laughed.

     "Small world" he said, "I thought you looked familiar."  I walked him home.
   

     We had gone on three dates before he finally invited me over to his place. He lived in a studio apartment in Chelsea. Gay mecca of Manhattan. It was nicely furnished in Ikea, as most apartments in the City were. His walls were decorated with abstract prints of Kylie Minogue, covers of Vogue, and in the hall hung a print of Edina and Patsy (the only print I wasn't repulsed by). Thirty minutes in his apartment, and our clothes began to fly off. The moment I had fantasized about for over a year and a half was finally becoming a reality. I was getting naked with Twink! I wanted to stop and twitter it!

   As we stripped each other of our clothes, we clumsily made it over to the bed. Twink rolled on top of me and I felt “it”... Not only was he packed in the back, but man was he packin' in the front. It’s rare, when the man attached to the perfect ass is also attached to the perfect penis.  After a few hours of four play, oral satisfaction and 3 orgasms we fell asleep. Morning came, and so did I. Twice.

     Weeks went by, and I was patient. Oral sex, all the time. No penetration. I wanted in that ass, and I would have waited AGES for it. I started to notice something during four play. He kept slapping my ass with his big beautiful member. I began to worry...‘Twinks don't do that’ I thought to myself, ‘yet every time we have sex, he keeps knocking on the back door’.  I started to panic, so one day during our hot shower sex (where again he knocked), I bluntly asked him,
   
     "Are you a top?"

     "Yes," he responded...

     He was a top?! What the hell?!... With an ass like that?! That's just... wrong!!
I was devastated! I mean, that's like being 5 feet, 7 inches tall, and the roller coaster you've been dying to get on has a height limit of at least 5'8!

     I'm pretty versatile, as far as my sexual "role" is concerned. I'll give it like a man, and take it like a bitch - but there are pre-requisites! If the guy is taller, bigger, more or equal to in masculinity than me - I'll take it. But if he has a smaller body frame, or is more feminine, I want to put it in his keister! Taking it up the ass from a twink, is like taking it up the ass from a girl wearing a strap-on. What’s the fun in that?! He wasn't much smaller, and his dick was perfect so I considered it. Who wouldn't want to straddle a perfect dick, right? Right?! Was I ready to just throw away some of my ridiculous sexual conditions? Would he compromise and let me stick the head in on special holidays and birthdays? Was I willing to stare at that beautiful rabbit-hole and know that I would never go to Wonderland? No way. Eventually he'd have me arrested for rape. In jail... I'd definitely be someones bitch. Better to just erase Alec from my mind, and keep that beautiful memory of the Soho Twink in my heart. Every once in a while, when walking through Soho, I'll see a beautiful ass and remember that boy at 141 Mercer. I'll smile at it, and think... Man. You were so close.