An Ode to Jamie...

Topic created by Dr. Wang
on Sat, 1 Mar 2025 at 20:49

Dr. Wang said on Sat, 1 Mar 2025 at 20:49...

youtube.com/watch?v=R-YDUGzQBfY

It was all pretend.

I am a fraud.

I was passing myself off as a dominant top. To a mysterious and captivating young bottom.

Of course, I *was* a top. I let my chocolate Khmer boy try to fuck me once. I just played on my laptop and left him to fumble until he came by accident.

But that was then. This is now.

Every deep breath draws me closer. That electrified straw-colored elixer bends me to its will and forces me into submission. When I'm finished driving myself into that beautiful little brown peach of a behind with a singularity of purpose, I suddenly find myself on my back, no longer in control. Someone is now wrapped between my legs trying to finish the job I thought was already done, my hips and feet helping him along the way. My body clenching and grinding in time with the beat, my lips silently mouthing along- 'don't stop- don't stop'. Each time it takes longer, each time it's rougher, more closely approaching real pain. Each time I keep breathing. Smelling a mystical, spicy perfume possessed of dark powers. Each time I'm enjoying it more. My song goes around again and again and again, and I never tire of it, I merely follow its dictates- 'Keep going'... That narcotic beat keeps everything flowing.

This song and this glass vial have suddenly and out of the blue turned me into a lioness in heat. I know it's doing damage, but I cannot disobey- 'don't stop'. I guess when I finally go deaf, I'll be in good company. I'll just pull the speakers in close and feel their breeze on my face as the chords progress, penetrating the inner depth of my soul.

Don't get me wrong. I *love* biting shoulders and pumping boy puss like a boss, the musky fragrance of which I find utterly intoxicating. I'm *going* to be listening to melodic cries of 'Daddy' for real, very soon, while I enjoy watching my boys drop it to the floor... I'm just not up to doing all the work myself anymore. It's not even a choice anymore. I can't *not* get fucked anymore. I thought riding while releasing was the ultimate, the end-all-to-be-all, but these new thoughts don't even pop into my head until *after* I'm done anymore.

That one midnight in the back of that hot SUV was a rehash of another scenario, but good stories deserve retelling and expanding upon- like the days when fire was the only thing people watched at night, our eyes drawn to those flickering, dancing bodies of light all on their own.

This time it's the new produce guy from the grocery store,I led him out to the parking lot. He's tall and skinny and a tad scruffy. Taller than me. Not normally my type, but suddenly I'm captivated by White Boys and all their White Boy Magic. They really are the Alpha and the Omega. His lanky little behind wants to be a bubble butt *so* badly, but it's just a little bump, enough to keep his pants from slipping down from that smooth, weedy, masculine trunk. A body transmutating in slow motion, frozen somewhere between boy and man. His butt practically comes up to my chest. At least that's how I remember it. His shirt lifts, revealing lot of midriff as his towering frame arcs over, leaning down to arrange the new stock.

I've never been so bold in my life, but it worked. Last week I threw him a bunch of cheezy lines- "Wow! You're a tall drink of water..." He's like 20, so he's probably never heard that one before. Every word out of my mouth is probably alien. The very fact I'm speaking to him baffles him. He doesn't know what to make of it, except it's novel and he's somewhat fixated by my attention. Like a deer in the headlights. "Do you have a girlfriend?" "No?" "Do you have a boyfriend?..." "Would you like one?..."- It's all in the confident, playful tone. The voice. The presence of body. Though it comes naturally to a degree, the predator spends a lifetime refining his skills. The prey just stands there looking pretty and aprehensive. After years of treading lightly, studying devoutly under a cloak of virtual invisibility, I suddenly want to be seen, and I now posess eerie powers of persuasion. I know exactly what I'm now after. It's working- "Or do you prefer to just feel up the vegetables..." *blink*- smile... This generation is an enigma to me, but they seem very compliant, at least compared to mine. They don't even want to drive. Passive acceptance personified. It's perfect. With emphesis placed to flatter him I say- "As you can clearly see, *I'm* not too bad look at either"- I bat my thick eyelashes as I glance downward, bow my head slightly, and quietly laugh it off as false bravado. Everyone responds to the body language of submission- a skill lost to time, one I've elevated to a state of art, which I only deploy for the kill. I lift my gaze back to him, head slightly askew, and resume my falsely-immodest quips. Without breaking eye contact I draw my upturned wrist to his face- "And I smell *amazing*. That's all me. It's natural." It was $1800 a bottle. An entry model even, still worth every penny. Worth more than my first 5 cars. Old-school animal pheromones. Liquid ecstasy.

"I have money..." again I smile, avert my gaze, and pretend I'm only joking. I'm putting it all out there. I'm not quite old enough to look the part- I'm silky smooth and tight, still have a full head of hair, no crow's feet. I like my grey mane; it made itself known at 15. I've rocked a buzz-cut since my first job, now I'm going for just a hint of a mohawk-mullet fade, because I want to stand out. Still- I could, and would, change his life. But only if he doesn't really believe it. He doesn't know he's playing the sugar-daddy lottery. I'll see if he comes to me on our next few visits, even if it means taking the bus. I'll send him home in a car, though. Security is a powerful motivator. But I've been down that road myself, and for it to work- it still has to be real. "Okay. At least tell me your name". His name is on his nametag. He responds. I tell him it was nice meeting him, and leave him alone to contemplate what just happened. Good things have come to those who have waited- all around.

The following week, all I had to do was show up, smile, and say- 'Follow me'...

...Okay, okay- maybe I'm overselling my own skill set here. This boy is going to take more convincing, and talk is cheap. I ask for his help and steer him off to the side, out of view. I move in close- invasion-of-personal-space close. Time for some hard truths. I lean in to his ear and whisper, slow and deliberate- "I've been avoiding... intimate... physical... contact... for a very... very... long time... I have so little experience... I'm practically a virgin... I don't think you can imagine... just how..." I stop myself and let the silence hang, heavy with anticipation. His breath deepens... I turn, pressing my back into him, my movements slow- subtle. A deliberate grind, a slow writhe. One hand reaches behind, pulling his lap firmly against me, coaxing him into motion. He remains still, stunned, but not pulling away. He's making no attempt to extricate himself. We’re both flushed now, breathing deep and heavy. My back still pressed against him, my hands glide up the lean expanse of this towering figure of a boy. I stretch onto my tiptoes, tilting my head back to reach him, my lips just near his ear- once more I whisper- "This is all I want... This is all I need... Please give it to me"... I can feel the heat radiating from his neck... He's still not talking, but his body is. There's involuntary movement... His mouth has gone dry; I hear the faint click as he swallows- 'gulp'. Whispering again into his ear, asking if he's ok- tiny goosebumps rise along the back of his neck. His ear strains back, caught in an auricular reflex, reacting to the warmth of my breath. He exhales- a slow, deep sigh, breath unsteady. His pulse pounds, reverberating through his overheating head. I continue- "I need you"... "I am *desperate*"...

Talking with Jamie was the most fun I've ever had hands down.

If you're out there baby boi-
Come back and talk dirty to me...

Guttrunks said on Sun, 2 Mar 2025 at 15:36...

Venerable Doctor,

Ode? you reference the great poets such as Pindar, Horace, and Sappho, whose compositions elevated the human spirit by expressing profound admiration for the divine and the heroic. I suspect that your Ode is better categorized as "Gay Pulp" a notable, and noble, literary genre from a bygone era, and oft sold "under the counter" in certain establishments. I have a collection myself, my bedside reading is currently Dirty Don Does Bigfoot (part IV of the Dirty Don series, published in 1968)

Dr. Wang said on Sun, 2 Mar 2025 at 20:39...

Guttrunks
Do you think my subject will appreciate the distinction?

Dr. Wang said on Sun, 2 Mar 2025 at 20:49...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D4-oDsh1YAE

I was torn between these two songs, as this one better represented the rhythmic flow and escalating sensory tension. But as it wasn't the song I was actually referencing, I chose the former. Not everyone appreciates the same genres. We even have some Rupert Holmes fans here. Imagine that? Sniffing poppers to the Piña Colada song. I might have to give that a try sometime.

Ode / Gay pulp / most comprehensive window into my personal psyche yet. What have you. It was a conversation that began around Boy Butter.

Dr. Wang said on Sun, 2 Mar 2025 at 20:53...

Oh no. I just can't stop myself. I might have to go running to Mam for another edit.

Dr. Wang said on Tue, 4 Mar 2025 at 03:58...

My boy and I lived in a tiny rooftop apartment. We had the entire 5th floor covering 2 huge flats- one big patio. One day it rained. The rain was like bath water. Without words, he said what he wanted to do, so we both stripped and ran outside into the rain naked. I'd never done anything like that before.

I am prone to be attracted to shiny objects. I lust after many things. Tell me I can't have something, and I'll only want it more. Name your price and I'll pay it, sight unseen.

But there is one thing which can make me completely happy all on its own.

Dr. Wang said on Tue, 4 Mar 2025 at 04:05...

I think I have a lot of internalized homophobia.

I was out by 14. I wouldn't volunteer this information to anyone, but I would no longer deny it.

I was raised in a very queer environment. When I was 9, my mother took in a guy who would frequent the park across the street- a cruising hotspot dubbed "The Fruit Loop"- a fact I was made cognizant of, even at that age. He took me to the theater to see 'Kiss of the Spider Woman' and 'Purple Rain'. He was a nice guy, he never did anything untoward to me, but come on, Kiss of the freaking Spider Woman? This is just scratching the surface.

There were so many times I thought to myself- "these are not my people". "This is not the life I want for myself".

It turned me into a real "no" person, and caused me to miss out on a lot.

Dr. Wang said on Tue, 4 Mar 2025 at 17:27...

"What does a lesbian bring on the second date?"
"A U-Haul."

It's funny because it's true.
I was never at the same school for more than a year. From the first grade to the time I finished middle school, we moved about ten times, as my parent pursued her own conquests.
That kind of instability gets in your head. I tend to fall in love with anyone who's nice to me.
Mercifully, not that many people are nice to me.
I think they must be intimidated...

Dr. Wang said on Tue, 4 Mar 2025 at 17:33...

I'm a middle school dropout. An autodidact.

I didn't actually drop out, I was forced by circumstance into 'alternative schooling'. The majority of my days were spent cat-napping and doing word-searches, at least while I wasn't simply being held in a state of perpetual torture by adolescence.

Some of these schools were run like tiny maximum-security prisons, administered by sadists with low-level degrees in psychology. Expressions of free will often resulted in solitary confinement.

One thing I can tell you about these schools for sure is that they cost the taxpayer a minimum of 10X what a normal school costs per student. I don't know where that money goes, but none of it trickles down into the classroom environment. I'm no Marxist, but most of the problems in my household would've been solved by a fraction of that money.

I get by, but most of my energy is still spent trying to convince myself that I'm ok. That I'm acceptable and worthy. It's a huge waste for someone with so much raw talent and sex appeal ;~p

One thing I have learned: it's impossible to hold onto all that baggage when you're in the third-world watching a toddler guide her blind grandmother safely across a busy highway in complete darkness. My problems are first-world problems, and they only exist in the first world. But they exist with a vengeance. It's hard not to be self absorbed when you're always by yourself.

No, I take it all back. Maybe all I really need is to get laid.

Elvis said on Wed, 5 Mar 2025 at 13:15...

Is Jamie still cryin' ?

Ozark Intellectual said on Wed, 5 Mar 2025 at 16:17...

Elvis, La Junta Trump working out for you? go fill up that gas tank, dude. Yeeehaw...MAGA MAGNIFICENT! A draft dodger will lead us to peace and prosperity...the American dream... I wanna see a golden statue of Fred Trump erect in place of that dumbass (non American) French one...The Statue of Fred Trump Enlightening the World, holding a power tool “Viva la libertad, carajo” I see Fred as god and Don as Jesus.

Dr. Wang said on Wed, 5 Mar 2025 at 21:06...

I cry at the drop of a hat these days. I never used to. I was dead inside- out of necessity, and of circumstance.
Now I cry over dumb shit all the time. I just teared up watching Kim and Jimmy argue on Better Call Saul. Their relationship was *perfectly* atypical. "And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like 'I love you'"- They never said it.
Maybe they were really on to something. Still, some people can't take a joke.

Dr. Wang said on Wed, 5 Mar 2025 at 21:25...

Brace yourself for one of the saddest things you'll ever hear-
The last person to express any romantic interest in me has since died of old age.

I did see an attractive young man today who seemed pleasantly bemused by the way I was enjoying myself, singing and dipping to the rhythm as I whizzed past him on my electric scooter. Maybe I should've pulled over and offered him a ride. That would've been a real trick- a very intimate, hands on experience. "Hold on to me as tight ass you can". I'll have to file that idea away for later. That will surely happen again in my lifetime...

Anyway. When our mutual acquaintance would leave the room, this older gentleman would start talking about being with guys.
He had a Morgan Freeman sort of sultriness about him. I might've considered it under different circumstances, but intimacy was a low priority for me, and the situation had the potential to become very sticky, and not in a good way. He was a curious sort. In verbal stream of consciousness style, he once pondered the psychology of houseflies fucking. You know how chatty and off-the-wall black people can be. That is a generalization I stand behind.
So is this: I'm slowly dying of loneliness.

Dr. Wang said on Wed, 5 Mar 2025 at 21:30...

Sometimes, when I like someone- platonically or otherwise- I wish to establish a rapport of a sort of playful intimacy.

So I reach out and gently put my finger in their nose.

No one has ever resisted. I think it sends them into a state of mild shock. Either that, or my instincts are correct.

Dr. Wang said on Thu, 6 Mar 2025 at 19:23...

"If you don't have anything nice to say..."
It sometimes feels like I can't even turn my head in this world without encountering a bunch of toxic backbiters.
I appreciate the fact that here's a place where I can be a bad writer, airing out my collection of stilted pointless vignettes and redundant metaphors-
without being pummeled and brutalized...

Dr. Wang said on Thu, 6 Mar 2025 at 19:42...

People think platonic love means no sex.
What if it actually means exactly what Plato was into?
That changes things entirely.

Dr. Wang said on Fri, 7 Mar 2025 at 11:09...

I put up a missed connection on craigslist because, why not...

"I passed by a very attractive younger man on my electric scooter Tuesday afternoon"
"I wish I'd circled back and offered you a ride."
"I'd have taken my helmet off so you could see how pretty I am, put it on you so you'd be safe, and told you to hold on to me as tight as you can..."

I've received 5 messages so far from men who are looking for a giant older woman on a scooter to take control over them.
I've accidentally tapped into an entire demographic of men with a "scooter domme" fantasy.
It seems I outsmart myself at every turn.

The Kåtbock Quest said on Fri, 7 Mar 2025 at 16:25...

i did' t know you could do those on craigfish, i searched for years for my lost love,

it was back in the very hot summer of 1976, the tarmac was a scorchin' and a meltin' i can tell you, the guy was wearing a blue striped tee stained with crisp salty rings of sweat, tight 501s revealing the outline of massive packet and bollocks like granny smiths, open toe sandals, was clean shaven, and had light tousled brown hair and blue eyes, it was near Piccadilldy Tube London, it was June 7th about 2.20 pm/ you looked, me: me: mature mustachioed gent in grey suit, with a pink handkerchief in me breast pucket, was that you? why didn't you follow me on? you hesitated around Man in Moon Passage. another few steps and we would have been inside Austin Allegro.

Kåtbock woudl have been 20 then, he would be 68 now! I was already 35, so I am 83 but have a positive outlook on life and believe in true love, and through hard work, and not being hindered by morals, have amassed a small fortune

i dream of my Kåtbock every night, and have spent a small fortune on private eyes and ads searching for him. if you are a 63 man with a big dick who remembers this incident in Man in Moon Passage with that old hooker, and no i do not like having billiard balls stuck up me arsehole! it was a lie, she was drunk, why did you run?

oh Kåtbock we never spoke, just winked, and you said some numbers, was it a code? i had a hypnotist try to reveal the numbers from trance back in 1989....ten. (garbled)..twenty five four hour? what does it mean, 10:25, a meeting time from that hot, hot, hot summer of 1976? but where...where are you!! I broke up with Austin in 1977 because of you.

Dr. Wang said on Fri, 7 Mar 2025 at 19:34...

I've never enjoyed being roasted before, that was impressive, thank you

Dr. Wang said on Sat, 8 Mar 2025 at 01:02...

Unhindered by morals? That sounds bad.
Anyone know the lost and found number for the stock exchange?

It was an admirable rendition, but only a couple key points endure.

Come to think of it, those details... so oddly specific.
Wouldn't it be just like me- so narcissistic,
To mistake your confession, so stark and prolific,
For a jab at my flaws- how delightfully cryptic!

Dr. Wang said on Sat, 8 Mar 2025 at 01:21...

...But I *am* pretty.
"Don't get a big head, You're a 6 at best"
...I know I am, you can't be everyone's cup of tea.
...But I'm not *that* bad, am I?
"Shut up and put your head back down, narcissist. No one cares"
"Even if you *were* pretty, time marches on."
"We maintain it wasn't even really you in the first place"...
"Now it's time to get fitted for orthopedic shoes and a cardigan sweater"
"Your narrow window of viability has closed, and you're living in the past"

sigh*... God damn it.

https://flic.kr/p/2qQEP8W

Dr. Wang said on Sat, 8 Mar 2025 at 01:23...

When I was 5, my mother dressed me up in a new 3-piece suit and combed my hair. I looked in the mirror and said "I'm pretty"

My mother said "Boys can't be 'pretty'". My eyes filled with tears, and I haven't stopped crying since.

Dr. Wang said on Sun, 9 Mar 2025 at 00:23...

If you're going to hate someone, or label them 'evil', at least do it for valid and coherent reasons.

Let's take as an example, oh, I don't know, Donald Trump.
He's now officially a war criminal, and enabling the complete takeover of the last vestiges of control the American people have over their country and handing it over to a hostile, alien fifth-column bent on our total annihilation, and that is not hyperbole. He's trying to end free-speech on college campuses, under the authority of the Department of Health & Human Services, of all things, and he wants to feed what remains of our blood and treasure into a nonsensical war with our biggest debt-holder.

Hate the man for that. Not because he's an egotistical meanie-weenie who wants to put a stop to men entering girl's spaces and beating them bloody, in a lip-gesture to his base.

I went through this for 4 years with my own mother. If you're going to pop-off, repeating the shit you hear on the boob-tube, you're going to have to back it up with details and construct an argument as to how it's even real or why it even matters. And no, listening to NPR does not make you politically sophisticated, it means you're being fed a slightly more refined grade of absolute pabulum. And I'm not even going to go into 'anthropogenic global warming' or faux-environmentalism.

Elsewhere here I've said I don't care for the man, and that I have called him 'Chester-Cheeto' even while in a heavily incapacitated state. Not that it really matters. Calling people who voted for him 'evil' and imaging ways to punish them is one of the most truly evil things I have ever witnessed with my own eyes. People devolve into tribalism in difficult times, but the lines they form are usually based on rational issues. Trump-haters are the most intellectually challenged people I've ever seen, and they're giant hypocrites too, because they profess humanistic ideals, yet are ready to literally strip their fellow man of their rights and throw them into concentration camps or murder them outright.

I also shouldn't have to explain how prose works. Am I a millionaire, or do I get around on an electric scooter?

Intellectual integrity is like good manners. It doesn't cost you a dime.

Dr. Wang said on Sun, 9 Mar 2025 at 00:42...

Missed connection.
Me: Minding my own business, talking to myself like... an unhoused individual experiencing a mental health crisis.
You: Approached me, dripping with hostility and mockery, projectile vomiting your own insecurities like Linda Blair.
Maybe this resentment has been building over time, maybe I inadvertently said something you took offense to. All I know is, nobody was complaining as long as I was talking about snowballing Jamie. Those were the salad days...

Had I wished, I could have... responded in kind, with hostility.
Instead, I wrote you a poem.

I might not be the owner of this sandbox, but I will insist you play nice.

Or, let's just never meet up again.

Dr. Wang said on Sun, 9 Mar 2025 at 10:56...

It's probably not hard to imagine how I could drive someone to flee my presence, but for the only breakup I've ever had, I spent a week moving out of our house, and he never noticed. He was a cute little Korean boy, my age, a stock broker. Adopted from abroad and bullied as a child, his pathology was to constantly push me toward rejecting and abandoning him too. I brought calm to his world, gave him unconditional acceptance, and quietly performed my domestic duties as the handsome White husband on his arm. After 1 beer, he just couldn't stop listing all the little things he didn't like about me. I didn't find out until the very end that I represented one of those childhood bullies. I tried, but the odds were all stacked against me.

I guess putting your dick through a hole in the wall isn't such a bad alternative.

Dr. Wang said on Mon, 10 Mar 2025 at 23:26...

I'm having intrusive thoughts.
Women horrify me. Physically. Psychologically. Olfactorily. The thought of being with a woman has never crossed my mind. I once had a girlfriend's girlfriend sit on my lap and refuse to leave. She was very attractive to me, especially since she was built *so much* like a boy at our age, but it was to no avail. She was trying to work a puppet with cut strings. I can't handle the big hips, or the HR Geiger anatomy.
Or having someone actually like me.

I live in the world's biggest small town. When I examined the offerings, out of a grand total of maybe ten male escorts, to my astonishment- 2 were FTM. A full 20%. Apparently, it's all the rage. I've dusted off the computer-dating machine and had a look, and there seem to be plenty of guys looking for just this thing.

It leaves me perplexed.
Or rather, it *left* me perplexed. What can I say. Some girls just make damned good looking boys...

But I won't go there. I'm rigid- a puritan.
A woman is like a Rubik's cube- some people throw themselves into trying to solve it, some give up, some just can't or won't. The only way I could do it was by popping off the pieces and forcing them into the right place.

Or is that a better analogy for the FTM gigolos?

The Kåtbock Quest said on Tue, 11 Mar 2025 at 05:24...

Stay away from call boys they will nick your stuff, I lost a treasured collection of Hummel Figurines that way! what confuses me is: what has this git to do with Kåtbock? i thought you were helping find MY LOVE, you are not a PI like Magnum or Mr Moto? i would ask you about the Hummels, but i feel they are long gone, fenced by a paw broker and now in the hands of some bad guy like a Mexican cartel leader, or something, now listen i am on the phone a lot because i get a lot of messages from people around the world, phone is always bleeping and a squeaking, i am talking to a young gent about making a fortune in a crypt. i will check back later and hope to get an update, i sent the Western Union already if you are Charlie in Catmandoo???, you are him i think, or anyway but please find Kåtbock and claim the reward then. i should have stayed with Austin, my dear Austin Allegro, damn you Kåtbock, the minute i set eyes on your swollen man hillock i was doomed, to bury my face in that hot dome of musky denim, even for a minute, my love, my Kåtbock

Dr. Wang said on Thu, 13 Mar 2025 at 22:20...

"You came over later today and connected with my ass really hard. Didn't see your face at all but i bet we had a good time. My door wasn't locked so you came right in. (I'm a 34yo male)"

Be still my beating heart!

Dr. Wang said on Thu, 13 Mar 2025 at 22:22...

What what does it even mean? It's even more disjointed than my crimes against coherence.

Dr. Wang said on Thu, 13 Mar 2025 at 22:27...

A fortune in crypto.
$20 in bitcoin would now be worth $680 million. $1.3 billion at its peak.
Would love to find a coin like that in my couch cushions. Someone with that kind of foresight would be typing this from a super yacht in international waters.
Immoral... If it would bring me happiness, I would invest everything in cat-stomping.

Dr. Wang said on Sat, 15 Mar 2025 at 08:22...

I'm not only an amateur chemist, I'm a Rogue physician.
An Underground healer.
And a Garage Dentist.
I've remediated my mother's respiratory disease and prolonged her quality lifespan by 10 years and counting- sometimes I think, to my own detriment.
I have a drill manifold on my bathroom wall, and I've installed my own fillings.

And I'm not done here by a damn sight.