The First Gay Party (St Valentine’s Day Party) (Part III) (Hissa Soem)

First of all I would lke to tell you all that I am very scared of meeting people through the gay connection. Since I have only known them over the net I feel strangely uncomfortable meeting them. Which I have done with only 3 guys. Yesterday I decided to see how it is like to meet many many gay guys. A very impulsive thing. But I decided to do it anyways.

This was the first time that I was with so many other gay men that I had time to learn about Karachi’s Gay circle and it’s gay men. And sortof gay men in general. And yes most of the party was spent standing in corners and looking at the people and what they were doind. Paying attention to the differnet kinds of people and how they behaved and how their dancing proved certain things about them.

For me the evening started at 2135 when I left to meet up with a couple of friends. I had never seen them. So I was very nervous like I always am. Lesser mortals would have crumbled under the pressure that is why God does not make them this nervous. So I met up with them and I waited for them to get dressed. During the course of which they talked. It was soon established that I am too macho to be a bottom. And idea that pushed me into a state of shock and anguish. Shock because I was always told that I am very effeminate. But then again I think standards differ between spit-on-the-road straight men and on-what-a-darling-scarf gay men. Anguished because as I suspected all the overtures made to me during the night (and frighteningly so through the rest of my life) would be by poeple bottomer / more effeminate than me. Which is definitely not what I want. So my life is, basically, ruined.

Then we started off for the party in cabs. I was a nervous wreck. I was getting more and more edgy as we got closer. This was a big step. Once I enter through the gate, I will be officially gay. And many people there will know that I am gay. For me, not a very comforting thought. I was thinking about opening the cab door saying sorry to the other inmates (I use the term jokingly here) and leaving. But I persevered and did not do something that drastic. So we finally reached our destinated and in a state of dazed confusion and abject fear I entered the house. At this moment I was officially gay. And a large part of the nervousness ended. Since no claps of thunder were heard. And no bolts of lightning fell on my head. No great earthquakes opened up the earth in which I would be sucked in. No monstrous eagles took me to faraway place and tore at my livers on mountain tops. Basically it was as normal as it can be. Thank God.

As soon as the door to the house opened I saw Disco Lights, A lot of people (heads really), Very loud music, A lot of raised hands and last but the most important smoke. It was like a thick soup of smoke. So I entered reluctantly into that smoke. Expecting a mixture of Cigarette and and assortment of Drug smells. But there wasnt any. I later on saw a smoke machine. DOH JALAL DOH. Well I went in. Saw a lot of people dancing to very loud music. Seemed interesting. I immediately stood in one corner and started to see the proceedings. Sweating profusely I might add.

There were a lot of guys. And they were gay. And they were in their environment and they were feeling ok in it. I was a nervous wreck. Then I saw two guys kissing. I was shocked to see it for the first time. It was like two gusy kissing in public. I was expecting people to beat them up. But then I saw other people going the same thing. It felt so strange. It felt as if I was normal. And that my feelings guys are not an aberration here. Felt cozy. Hmmm enough with the mushy stuff. I am a man and I eat meat off the bone (necessary reassurances). Well I felt normal there. Upon inquiring from a friend I was told that I can stare at guys. I can check em out actually. And I can look at people kissing. Which was the greatest thing that happened to me.

So I stood in the corner for about one hour. Not moving at all. Avoiding eye contact and looking at the sexy men. Oh, and holding onto the crown. Because I was not solely a wallflower. I was “His most serene majesty, The Emperor of Wallflowers”. Well I was standing in a corner looking at the men. And cursing myself for not dancing with the ones that I liked. There were a few there. But I didnt feel normal (non-nervous) enough to go onto a dance floor. That coupled with the fact that I have never danced before induced in me a incrippling fear and anxiety which held me rooted to my spot. For some time.

Then I decided to check out the drinks room. There were two stalls. One for the pious and virtuos muslims who will suck on each others tonsils but will not have alcohol. Water, Coke (Yes I said coke because it is coke) and a strange tangy juice. The other stall was for normal non-hypocritical humans. It had an assortment of alcholic drinks. I went to the alocohol thing. But they were charging. And I was not ready to pay for bitter bitter drinks. Because my previous experience with alcoholic drinks was not good. So I deicded against it and had coke and came back to the same spot to sit on my throne, or rather, stand on it.

Then as I was lamenting my condition a guy came up and started dancing and forcing himself on me. To which I tried to tell him not to. But he did not listen. Then I told him “Thank you but goodbye” He still continued. My friends since the first moment were telling me to join them on the dance floor. And I took this moment. To take refuge in the arms of my friends. And I ran like the wind and joined them in the fray of lusty bodies and naked desires. It was really very nice. So this way I took another step onto the ladder of religious doom and a rewarding gay sex life. Once on the floor my friend told me that I can hit on guys on the floor it is very very allowed. I was still feeling a bit nervous so I declined.

So we danced and had a drink (non-alcoholic of course), danced, drink, danced, drink. I had by this time narrowed the list of hot guys to about 8-12. That I would like to dance with. But since I am such a freak I could not do it. But then a ray of light descended from the heavens and showered me with blessings. One of the guys was next to me on the dance floor and he was alone. So I thought “Why the hell not?”. And shockingly(at least for me) He did kick me or anything he joined me as well. Ahhh well the wonders of life. So this was my first ever dance with another guy. Yay. Now about 1 minute into the dance he decided that he wanted a kiss. Initially I stalled for about 3 seconds. Then my hormones and my inner slut kicked in. And I again said “Why the hell not?”. And I had my first kiss (proper kiss) with another guy.

About 2 minutes later I noticed that he is leanign against a wall and I am all over him. That is when I realized that I am a slut. And that I am really gay. And on both counts I was so happy for myself. It was as if I had finally passed the test and come upto my greatest ideals.

So I wasnt going to let go so we kept kissing and kissing and kissing. About half way I said to him “I want to suck your moustache”. I know I know I don’t seem like this. But apparently I am a sex crazed maniacal freak. He said yes. So I promptly set about doing it. About 50 minutes of kissing and I stopped. I had a feeling that I should try out another guy.

This is when I realized that I am a bitch as well. Another great ideal that I so perfectly came upto.

Well then the party was kind of monotonous. Dancing. Kissing guys. Grabbing them. Getting grabbed. Continously wallowing in the glory of being a complete slut and a bitch.

Then I just stopped to observe them all. How they were like. There were guys who were complete queens. They accosted random men and dance with them. They would wish to have been women but they were not. There were effeminate guys who were looking for more macho guys. They were men who wanted to refer to themselves as women and hence feel happy that they will get a man. There were the macho guys who were: Oh so hot. Generally the clothing would tell you which group who belonged to. The queens were all wearing shorts or boxers and make up. The effeminate guys where all wearing slightly femine dresses and colours. The macho guys were dressed as the normal straight guys (yes, those poor unfortunate people) that we see on the streets. A very interesting mixture of types and people. All different. In dress, makeup, thought, outlook and appeal. A very very wide spectrum if you would ask me.

And yes it is true. I am amongst the macho type. DAMN IT. Oh and in other news. My clothing was completely inappropriate. I felt as if I went to the UN General Assemply session wearing torn shorts and a skin tight mesh shirt (with my stomach size, that would look disgusting).

The evening went on and on and on and then it suddenly stopped and we all came back. When I was walking back to my home in my street at 0601. I met a guy who was going to the mosque for the morning prayers. I see him sometimes when I am up early. He prays and then he walks in the neighbourhood. It was kind of odd. I was ending a night of unislamic lusts. And he was beginning a day of pious disciplined worship.

Well, Never the twain shall meet. There will always be these two extremes. After all that is what is the fun in life. Because if we didnt have right wingers, who the hell will we make fun of?

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