tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31504286964302959712024-03-09T05:11:46.339+08:00Poch NationHi I'm Poch. Some people know me as...Pochpoch. *facepalm* Anyway, here in Poch Nation I showcase my art and fiction, and once in a while you might read some life stuff, too. You can feedback on anything here to my email: pochpoch69@live.com.
Oh and by the way and in case you haven't realized, I'm gay. En. Joy.Pochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10374502514845166023noreply@blogger.comBlogger5125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3150428696430295971.post-46044860249170933452010-10-02T04:00:00.005+08:002010-10-02T07:57:41.451+08:00[STORY] The Mister & The Kid / Wrestling in the GymAjax glanced at the digi-clock in his office and found that it was already half past ten--another day had gone by in his beloved gym. He left for the workout area to fetch a mop when something caught his attention at the open floor section. Or someone.<br />
<br />
True enough, a red-haired young man was lying on his back while holding one of his legs straight up in the air. It was Dante, one of his young regulars. Unsurprised by the presence of his last guest, Ajax approached and towered over him with an air of mock superiority, hands on waist and all.<br />
<br />
Dante lifted his eyes to the giant shadow that suddenly loomed on him and realized it was the gym owner. From his position, he greeted with an awkward chuckle, “Oh, Mr. Ajax. H-Hey.”<br />
<br />
“The last one again, are ya, kid?” Ajax said as he grinned down at him. <br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a>Even from that height, Dante could make out his dimples and tightly curved lips. Locks of blonde hair dangling from underneath his black bonnet framed his square jaw. He always thought the owner’s smile gave him the look of Sawyer from Lost. And if there ever was one man he could plane-crash with in a god-forsaken island....<br />
<br />
“Your supine hamstring stretch is drooping, kid.”<br />
<br />
“Oh sorry,” said the young man as he re-adjusted his leg. He quickly shifted his sight away from Ajax’s manly face; it landed shortly instead a few feet down, to his sizable bulge on his skimpy blue nylon shorts. Ignoring the suspicion that the gym owner was not wearing any underwear, Dante finally settled his eyes to the ceiling. <br />
<br />
He broke his silence with a stammer. “I told you I hate it when you call me kid, Mr. Ajax. I’m already 23, you know. And approaching 190. Pounds, I mean... And 23, that’s, uh, my age...”<br />
<br />
Ajax laughed. “I get it, ya big dork. Alright I’ll stop calling you kid, but only if you quit it with the mister. I’m only a few years ahead a’ya.” Noticing that Dante’s grip was slackening again, he knelt on the mats and reached for his leg. “Gimme that or you’ll never finish.” <br />
<br />
Before he could say a word, Dante felt two big hands push at his hamstring, cold palms that immediately sent shivers down his buttocks. He muffled a gasp and said weakly, “Thanks, er, Ajax.”<br />
<br />
“Good kid... I mean guy. Heh.” <br />
<br />
Dante said nothing, unable to do anything but concentrate on Ajax’s hands--they were hard and tough, no doubt a token of years’ worth of labor, but surprisingly smooth, like leather.<br />
<br />
Ajax continued. “So how come you always work out so late anyway? Aren’t you young ones supposed to be strutting in bars or playing videogames or something at this hour?”<br />
<br />
“Well, I don’t play videogames coz I heard that someday it will turn me into a serial killer.” Dante’s attempt at a joke was met by silence from the owner who was often called the real-life version of Snow Villiers from Final Fantasy. “...And I don’t really strut much.”<br />
<br />
Ajax grinned. “Straight up goody-two shoes, are ya? Your momma must be proud of her li’l boy.”<br />
<br />
Dante snorted in spite of himself. Ajax always had a way of making anyone feel at ease, even when that person was on the floor having his leg raised to the ceiling. <br />
<br />
“I like working out when the gym is empty like this,” Dante explained. “I can do my crash sets without disruptions that screw up my rest periods. And I don’t know, I just...like it here. I mean, you’re here so--”<br />
<br />
He caught himself just in time, but he already felt his face blush. He glanced at the owner who was adjusting his knee on the mat, thankfully oblivious.<br />
<br />
“I-I think the cooldown’s enough, Ajax.”<br />
<br />
“Alright. So, other leg?”<br />
<br />
“Ah, no need. I’m already done with that one,” Dante lied. “Thank you for your, uh, support.”<br />
<br />
“Heh.” Ajax slid Dante’s leg on the floor then offered his hand to the young man. “Up.”<br />
<br />
Dante took the hand, now warm possibly from the heat of his leg, and they both got up. There was an awkward beat when their clasped fists lingered. Dante instantly let go and said with a nervous smile, “Uh, thanks again.”<br />
<br />
“Not a problem. These mitts are at your service,” Ajax replied nonchalantly as the young man collected his things. He was about to leave his guest when he remembered something. “Oh, have you heard of the amateur wrestling exhibition in two months?”<br />
<br />
“At the metropolis stadium, yeah, I have,” Dante nodded as he sipped his workout shake. “I’m actually thinking of signing up as cruiserweight.”<br />
<br />
“Wow really? Awesome!” Ajax enthused so suddenly that Dante choked from his drink out of surprise. “It’s gonna be great, kid! Just thinking about it pumps me up, I tell ya!”<br />
<br />
Dante, now amused at witnessing for the nth time the gym owner’s zeal for anything martial arts, let the kid comment and accidental choking slide.<br />
<br />
Ajax continued animatedly. “Oh hey, let’s do some rounds right now!”<br />
<br />
“What?” Dante asked, caught off-guard by the spontaneity of the suggestion. “B-But I just finished cooling down!”<br />
<br />
“Oh, pfft. Come on! Think about it as a trial bout. You know, practice!” Ajax egged on with glee when Dante remained speechless. “Look, there’re only two of us here. No customers or assistants to bug us, we can go WILD!”<br />
<br />
Dante was not sure how to take that last remark, but Ajax was already adjusting the mats and clearing the floor of stability balls. The owner’s palpable excitement contrasted with the young man’s internal agitation. If Ajax’s hand support with the hamstring stretch earlier already wracked Dante’s nerves...<br />
<br />
“POSITIONS!!”<br />
<br />
***<br />
<br />
The gym’s open floor area was a rectangle forty feet long and twenty wide, more than sufficient for a good wrestling match or two. Since there was no one else but Ajax and Dante, they took their stance at the very center.<br />
<br />
Instead of accommodating his anxiety, Dante decided to make the most out of this match. It certainly was a rare treat to wrestle with an experienced fighter; at the very least, he was sure to learn a few tricks while being whomped. And considering that he was fighting Ajax, suffice it to say it was Dante’s sports dream come true. <br />
<br />
So it naturally caught him off-guard when his opponent started removing his top.<br />
<br />
“W-What are you doing?”<br />
<br />
Ajax paused mid-strip, looking like an ad for Calvin Klein with his exposed waist and abs. His torso’s outlines were so well-defined that Dante always thought they were shaped through aeons by the very forces of nature.<br />
<br />
“What? I can’t wrestle you while wearing this tank,” Ajax pointed out, but Dante just gawked at him. “It’s Armani!”<br />
<br />
The gym owner proceeded unclothing, at which point the young man recovered his wits. Taking a deep breath, he fumbled for his own shirt and pulled it off his head. Ajax had already draped his precious garment on the steel bar along the wall, while his shoes and socks lay on the floor below. He was shaking his arms and tilting his head from side to side--the typical tics fighters make before a match. His pecs as large as car tires bounced with every movement; his arms as if melded with volcanic rocks swung intimidatingly. Having hung his own shirt and removed his footwear, Dante was both unnerved and uncomfortable as he faced his senior.<br />
<br />
“Whoa. I didn’t realize you have progressed this much,” Ajax remarked. Dante gave a look of confused inquiry, which prompted the other to expand. “Your armor, man, look at you! You’re huge!”<br />
<br />
As if on reflex, Dante looked down at his body. Ajax was right. His lightly haired chest mounded like summer hills, hiding from his sight the ridges of six-packs below. His rockhard biceps and delts boasted of girth and strength that can put superheroes to shame. Indeed, for a man of his young age, Dante’s physique could blow his peers, including their uncles, out of the water. Even literally.<br />
<br />
“But I’m a stack of beach pebbles compared to you.”<br />
<br />
“Oh no, my ripped bro. And you’ve only been pumping here for, what, half a year? You’re a natural gladiator. I was actually thinking of not going full-out because you’re already, as you say, ’cooled down’, but I think you’re gonna give me a hard time.” There was a look of excited anticipation in Ajax’s eyes. “So you ready?”<br />
<br />
The gym owner’s praises gave Dante a much-needed boost to his morale. With a puff of breath and clench of fists, he eschewed his mental unease and nodded to his burly opponent. <br />
<br />
“Let’s rumble.”<br />
<br />
They charged at the same time. Ajax had the longer reach advantage, and his arms quickly grabbed at his shoulders and slammed him on the mats with strength that Dante did not anticipate. The next instant Ajax kneeled on Dante’s arms, rendering him immobile. He raised his legs in an attempt to scissor Ajax’s head, but the burly owner anticipated that and simply reached for his feet and pulled them forward. Dante’s body curved in a C, excruciatingly so. He had no other choice but to signal his surrender by rapping the floor.<br />
<br />
<i>Tap! Tap!</i><br />
<br />
“Come on, you can do better than that!” exclaimed Ajax as they stood up again. He adjusted his bonnet with a teasing smug as Dante massaged his squashed biceps.<br />
<br />
“I’m just warming up, relax,” he replied coolly. The thrill of the fight was seeping to the young man’s veins. Feeling the mounting energy in his muscles, he grinned at the gym owner. <br />
<br />
“Aren’t you gonna remove your hat, Snow Villiers?”<br />
<br />
“Why, you planning on pulling my hair, Jesse Ventura?”<br />
<br />
“Ooh, obscure reference distraction, what a sly tactic...”<br />
<br />
“Heh, shuddup.”<br />
<br />
They lunged for the second round, hands meeting shoulders and chest. For a while they were at a flurry of grappling for advantage, until Dante grabbed Ajax’s arm and made a quick sidestep behind him, twisting the arm into a half-nelson. Ajax lost his composure from the sudden surge of pain. Then with a shove that could break down doors, the young man toppled the gym owner to the mats and concluded the combo with a neck-breaking headlock. Ajax found himself slamming the floor.<br />
<br />
<i>Tap! Tap!</i><br />
<br />
The fighters returned to neutral position. Dante gave a bragging shrug without saying a word, which Ajax replied with a good-natured glare. All this time, he was rubbing his groin. <br />
<br />
“You almost crushed my jewels, you know.”<br />
<br />
“Serves you right for not wearing protection.”<br />
<br />
“Look who’s talking!”<br />
<br />
Ajax was right again. Earlier when Dante was the last guest on the floor, he went to the lockers and took off his jockstrap. It was brand new and too tight; the sizing from the package was probably wrong. <br />
<br />
“Yeah well, undies are for sissies.”<br />
<br />
“NOW we’re talking!!” <br />
<br />
The wrestling match continued for the better part of the hour. Everyone who happened to pass by the gym heard a commotion of grunts, heaves, slams, taps, trash talk and profanity. Dante and Ajax held no restraint. For them, the universe only consisted of each other and the floor. For them, it was the fight of a lifetime.<br />
<br />
None of them heard when the digi-clock in Ajax’s office beeped midnight. They just finished another round, and exhaustion had already set in. Dante stooped low, hands finding support on his knees. A half-bent Ajax was clutching on his hips and his black bonnet layed discarded on the floor. They were panting heavily; their naked torsos were bathing in sweat.<br />
<br />
“Tally...?”<br />
<br />
“I think...we’re tied...seven each...”<br />
<br />
“You ready...to give up, squirt...?”<br />
<br />
“S’long as my blood’s...pumping...no chance, meathead...”<br />
<br />
Ajax let out a breath that indicated a laugh. “Well...you’re blood’s pumping alright. Planning to pin me with...that?”<br />
<br />
Dante frowned at what his opponent was spouting, then looked down to discover in surprise that his dick was bulging through his red shorts. It was only at half-erect, but his large member was visually well-shaped by his tight nylons and lack of undergarment. At the tip of its length was a more obvious and darker stain.<br />
<br />
“Oh boy, you’re dripping too, eh?” Ajax mocked, his fatigue quickly forgotten. He added in somber, “Young’uns these days...getting off at everything...tsk tsk...”<br />
<br />
“Th-This is sweat!” exclaimed Dante as he tried to spread the stain with his moist hands.<br />
<br />
The owner ragged on. “Just don’t spill it on the floor, alright kid? Let’s keep it nice and cum-free unlike every other gym in the world.”<br />
<br />
While shrinking from embarrassment, Dante was stealing glances at Ajax’s own bulge. The zest of the match triggered his semi-erection as well--his thick cock was snaking up toward his waist--but Dante had not the will to point it out for fear of furthering his pecker to full excitement. “Mind your own boner, mister,” he muttered under his breath for consolation.<br />
<br />
Ajax let out a final guffaw then faced his mortified rival. “Alright enough goofin’. So... Last round?”<br />
<br />
“Last round,” Dante grumbled, unable to prevent himself from glancing at the gym owner’s bulge.<br />
<br />
Ajax bent low, poised for attack, and grinned. “Wet-dreamer.”<br />
<br />
Dante stanced the same, looked straight at Ajax’s eyes, and smirked. “Ankle-grabber.”<br />
<br />
And with a combined yell, they rushed at each other.<br />
<br />
Their hands collided, fingers closing down tight. Veins popped from forearms to biceps as the fighters answered force with force. Their arms swiped wind-like to the side and they let go; Ajax recoiled with a swing but Dante already rolled on the floor away from him. Ajax turned around to face him and they ended with a pause.<br />
<br />
From his kneeling position, the young man was on eye level with the gym owner’s bulge. He thought it was bigger than before, not rock-hard, just bigger, and there certainly was a dark stain near the band where the cock ended. Dante forced his mind to focus on the match, not realizing a giant shadow of torso and arms was already speeding his way. <br />
<br />
As if by reflex, Dante stood up and skipped back. It was only when he saw a glint of Ajax’s smile when he realized it was a big mistake. He was still mid-air when the gym owner swooped up to his front, wrapped his huge arms around his torso and locked him into a bear hug. His signature move.<br />
<br />
“Got ya.” Ajax wasted no time crushing Dante’s torso. “How d’you like that, big boy? Much better than momma’s hug, yeah? Haha!”<br />
<br />
Dante was groaning in pain, his wrought diaphragm finding difficulty in sucking air, but it was not the breathless agony that was making his mind swirl. Their muscled torsos pressed tighter and tighter, naked chest against naked chest, sweaty abs against sweaty abs, Dante’s red nylon-covered thighs against Ajax’s blue. <br />
<br />
And the focal point of it all, their cocks. The hapless young man was unable to deny the feeling of their pricks squeezing together, like a thorn on his side, or for that matter, front. A wonderful thorn, against his own. So wonderful that Dante felt the stirring erupt from his groin.<br />
<br />
“I give!”<br />
<br />
“What’s that? Did you say, I quit, my master and commander?” Ajax did not let him go, and instead stomped around the floor shaking and squeezing and laughing, until suddenly he felt something hard. “Wait... What’s piercing me?”<br />
<br />
“Oh <i>shhhit</i>,” Dante whispered.<br />
<br />
Ajax slackened his grip a little and looked down at their linked pelvises to find the assailant. Indeed, just peeking out from Dante’s red nylons was the head of his cock, fully visible, angry red, and shiny with oozing precum from its winking slit. Its thick body was pressing tight at his own bulge. The sticky juice had already squeezed into their abs and waistbands, creating a sap-like stain.<br />
<br />
“Y-You’re--“<br />
<br />
The stunned gym owner took an unthinking step and accidentally slipped on his black bonnet. The world spun for an instant before the pair landed with a crash and two grunts of pain. <br />
<br />
Dante recovered his senses and quickly tried to dismount until he realized his hands were pinned below Ajax’s massive deltoids. As he tried to pry them off, his sweaty body shook and slid against Ajax, not realizing that his hard-on was rubbing against Ajax’s cock. Ajax, however, did.<br />
<br />
“What are you doing, stop that, you’re making me...<i>aahh</i>...”<br />
<br />
“I’m trying to get off you!” Dante yanked once more and his hands were free. “Finally! ...Ohh.”<br />
<br />
Dante felt it. Ajax’s cock sprouted solid, pushing against his own. From what he could feel, Dante could tell that Ajax’s cockhead had slipped out of his shorts as well. Its shaft was thicker than his own. Much thicker. And warmer. Much warmer.<br />
<br />
There was an awkward beat before Ajax looked directly at Dante’s eyes and murmured, “I told you to stop...”<br />
<br />
Dante gazed back embarrassingly and whispered, “Sorry...”<br />
<br />
Their words ended in silence as the tremor in their groins began. Dante felt Ajax’s massive cock quiver. Ajax sensed a pulsating reply in kind. An invitation. No movement except the quiet beating of their cocks. Gladly accepted. Throb against throb. Each pulse answered by a stronger another. Their trembling pricks trying to reach a truce as they soaked in the glory of their juices. Quickening, hardening, veins about to burst. A silent bout outmatched only by the pounding of their hearts...<br />
<br />
“M-Mr. Ajax...”<br />
<br />
“Shh...”<br />
<br />
“B-but--“<br />
<br />
“We’re already on the train, kid.” At both of their surprise, Ajax reached for the young man’s ass, firm and full in his grasp. “Might as well <i>get off.</i>”<br />
<br />
With a quick and sudden rhythm, he moved Dante’s pelvis up and down, making his cock rub strongly against his own. The slick fabric of the nylon combined with their pre-cum felt surprisingly good that Dante gasped and Ajax groaned.<br />
<br />
Without a word, the young man grabbed Ajax’s massive shoulders and, using it as an anchor, started thrusting on his own. Their frottage gathered speed as the sensation gained intensity. Sweat sprayed from Dante’s hair with every shove, and Ajax tasted the salt. But it was nothing compared to the sweet bliss rising from the union of their cocks.<br />
<br />
<i>“Oh shit, here I come--!”</i><br />
<br />
<i>“Fuck, me first kid--!“</i><br />
<br />
And at the same time, they erupted into climax. Their cocks convulsed between them, jerking repeatedly against each other with every hard spurt. Their mixed cum flooded their pressed abs and shorts before slowly dripping onto Ajax’s waist and onto the floor. The united wrestlers were unable to see the spectacle, lost in the ecstacy of their hot milk drenching them from inside out. A minute more passed until their orgasm subsided into a lingering bliss.<br />
<br />
“Wow...” Dante whispered with misty eyes.<br />
<br />
“Yeah...” Ajax replied, panting hot breath into Dante’s face.<br />
<br />
“Should I get off now?”<br />
<br />
“But you just did... Didn’t you?”<br />
<br />
“I mean,” Dante grinned, “from on top of you... “<br />
<br />
“Oh right,” Ajax smiled as he let go of Dante’s buttocks. “Sorry.”<br />
<br />
The young man carefully slid unto Ajax’s side. Their abs and groins, slick with cum, parted with a squish and a sensitive friction that made the two moan softly. The separation of their bodies was both wonderful and unbearable. Eventually they sat up and settled on the mats, facing each other.<br />
<br />
“So...” Ajax said softly. “I told you we’ll be wild.”<br />
<br />
“Yeah,” Dante chuckled, “the art of wrestling will never be the same...”<br />
<br />
There was a pause when they glanced at each other. Both of their abs and shorts were glistening with their drying juice, thick white globs dotted here and there, and there were traces in Ajax’s waist where the flow spilled. The air smelled musty, of sweat and cum combined. The only sound was the steady rhythm of their breathing, short and deliberate.<br />
<br />
Ajax broke the silence. “Maybe we should do it again.”<br />
<br />
Dante replied with a surprised look.<br />
<br />
“I mean, wrestling,” the owner clarified, slightly embarrassed. “You got a pretty good technique.”<br />
<br />
Dante stared into Ajax’s eyes. “Good technique, huh?”<br />
<br />
“You could use some control though...” Ajax uttered, a grin starting to form on his lips.<br />
<br />
“Yeah.” Dante nodded, smiling himself. “I obviously need to work on that...my control.”<br />
<br />
“So three, maybe four times a week?” Ajax suggested, acting casual. “After closing, I can be your coach until the exhibition. Your call.”<br />
<br />
“Well, I could use some instruction.” Dante shrugged. <br />
<br />
“And I could use a training partner,” Ajax responded. “So what you say?”<br />
<br />
Dante gazed at the floor, now riddled with blots and specks of their deeds, fluids dried or drying, indistinguishable and innocent. He saw Ajax’s black bonnet and swiped it. Then he stood up.<br />
<br />
“I’ll be your partner until the tournament,” the young man pronounced, looking down at the gym owner. “But in return and as payment, maybe I should also be...your janitor.” Then he stretched his arm to Ajax in a gesture of handing back his bonnet.<br />
<br />
Ajax smirked. “You look ridiculous in your soiled shorts.” <br />
<br />
“Cum-stained nylons: the future of gymwear,” Dante retorted, his posture not breaking. “Do we have a deal?”<br />
<br />
The owner gazed at Dante’s muscular body, pink from soreness and still gleaming with moist that only made his confident stance more impressive, handsome. Then he grabbed his bonnet, at the same time catching Dante’s hand, helping him stand up. There was a moment when their clasped hands lingered.<br />
<br />
Finally, Ajax spoke. “Utility cabinet is in the lockers.”<br />
<br />
Dante smiled, letting go of Ajax’s hand then walking off. Ajax put on his bonnet and looked at the filthy floor. “So much for keeping my gym jizz-free...”<br />
<br />
The red-haired young man called out from the lockers. “We’re not gonna shower together, too, are we, mister coach?” <br />
<br />
“Hey janitor kid?” the gym owner yelled back as he walked into the lockers, grinning himself. “Shut up and grab the mop.”<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>--END--</b>Pochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10374502514845166023noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3150428696430295971.post-2724540258268946322010-10-02T02:46:00.004+08:002010-10-02T05:16:20.394+08:00It's Been a While.Heh. It really has been, hasn't it? I've been enjoying a lot of other stuff lately that I haven't had time to finish my arts and stories, let alone update this blog. What occupies my free time, asketh the void? Four syllables. Gym, TV, books.<br />
<br />
Let's start with gym. I've already posted about how good my new gym is, but I never expected for it to be this great. Met several new friends--ehem, hot straight dude friends--and so my workout is always a blast. My body is constantly improving (I measure myself, I mean my muscles. ...What?) that I'm already tossing out some of my skinny jeans that won't get past my hamstrings--they grew too big too soon that I decided to minimize my leg routines.<br />
<br />
The latest development (just today, actually) is that I have been commanded some control over the gym music. (As I mentioned before, it's a local gym so the social dynamics are warm and accommodating--the wholesome kind.) I feel giddy just thinking people will be doing bench presses while listening to Keane's Crystal Ball or Phoenix's 1901, or doing calf raises over The Shins! (Get it? Calf, shins, calf muscle, shinbone...whatever.) But eh, I added some Eminem and Pit Bull and Lil Wayne in there, too. After all it's still a gym, not a lounge.<br />
<br />
I was <i>thisclose</i> to adding Glee songs, hee! Thankfully my rational mind took over and stopped me. Not to mention, I'll probably spend my entire workout laughing my ass off at people's reactions over hearing show tunes in a gym. Huh. I think that phrase qualifies as an oxymoron.<br />
<br />
As for TV, well I'm a total sucker for TV shows, particularly American TV series. I'm glad for the return of Chuck, Glee, Dexter, House, Caprica, Supernatural, Parenthood, The Vampire Diaries, Gossip Girl and Modern Family--told you I watch a lot--but the new shows are plainly unappealing. I tried The Event...eh. No Ordinary Family...eh. It's sad that nothing stands out this year. Maybe The Cape once it's on. As of yet, I may be forced to download other stuff I've been hearing about, like Being Human and The Gates. Or perhaps I'll just re-download and re-watch the early seasons of Charmed. Heh.<br />
<br />
Lastly, books. Just finished Wind-Up Bird Chronicle and (for the second time) Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami. He is officially my favorite author nowadays. His words speak to me, and speak <i>about</i> me in the real and metaphysical sense. I had a lot of weird happenings in my childhood--scary, fantasy, and/or supernatural stuff--and Murakami's works somehow affirm that what happened to me were absolutely real while still bordering on the imaginative, and that excites and comforts me at the same time. It's weird and I hope I can explain it beyond that, but I'll have to dig deeper to clear things up even for myself.<br />
<br />
Anyway, I'm gonna be posting some finished stuff soon. Ciao. Stay off drugs.Pochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10374502514845166023noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3150428696430295971.post-63946462671649470592010-09-11T02:23:00.002+08:002010-09-11T02:36:13.357+08:00Never Again. Never, Ever Again.This next update is way, WAY overdue. Just a gentle reminder to you kids:<br />
beer + protein shakes = YOU KNOW THE ANSWER (I DIDN'T)<br />
<br />
Here's the story.<br />
<br />
I joined a new gym yesterday. It's just a block away from home and the trainers are very accommodating (no, not like that), a far cry from the snots of Fitness First in distant malls with their monthly fees that cost five times more. A nice surprise is that in spite this gym being just a quaint local scene, the people are friendly...and hot! Which is very weird coz they're probably my neighbors and I never knew, so mental note: get out more.<br />
<br />
However at the same day my father spontaneously asked me to go fishing. If you're gay, it should prolly not be a surprise when I say a lack of common interests with our dads is, well, common. My dad and I are particularly in different universes: he loves driving cars and I love daydreaming in cars (I don't even drive--long story); in sports I love table tennis, badminton, volleyball and cheerdancing, and he loves, well, most everything else; he could watch Discovery and NatGeo repeats for hours, while I've watched Gilmore Girls a thousand times; he loves cocktails, and I love co...nah, that joke's too easy.<br />
<br />
But the love of baiting a hook (dirty?), casting a supple fishing rod (dirty!), and tugging it (DIRTY!) along a wide expanse of water under the blazing heat just for the sake of a nifty nibble (<i>DIR</i>...alright enough) is one of those things we are in complete sync--well, minus the sexual innuendos (I hope). So of course I said yes. It was slightly weird though, coz the trip's primary purpose was to curry favors with my dad's special guests, a lawyer and a courtroom judge. You see the judge wanted to <i><insert most boringest details here></i> and the lawyer was like <i><more details></i> so my father agreed. Long story short, it was a successful outing altogether, as I caught two humongous fishes (each is 2 kilos and the size of a bodybuilder's calf), beating my dad (as always), and the judge even crowned me champion and new Fishing Idol. The celebration ended naturally with a party of beer and cooked fish.<br />
<br />
I knew I had my first session at the new gym that evening (I workout nights) but refusing drinks from the generation ahead of you is disrespectful--might as well spit on ancestor's graves, yeah? All in all by the time the trip was over I downed four bottles of beer (and I hate beer). I wasn't at all tipsy, just a little light-headed, and I was so excited about the new gym prospect that I did not cancel my workout. So the minute I got home I changed into my gym attire, ran to the gym, and met them new people as I downed my protein shake, fully aware that the beer was still sloshing around in my stomach.<br />
<br />
Predictably, as my workout went on my tummy acted out, and eventually I felt like puking my guts and I was sweating like crazy. I had to stop in the middle of my inclined chest press, one of my faves, arrgh. Suffice it to say, that was the end of my workout and the beginning of my rendezvous with Col. Sink, Gen. Bowl and the TP Army.<br />
<br />
Moral of the story: Never again. Never, ever again.<br />
<br />
I conclude this post by commemorating this event with this piece...alright that's a lie; I finished this a week ago but just forgot. Anyway this is a trade for <a href="http://yaoi.y-gallery.net/user/bokep/">bokep</a> from y-gal and our Mr. Subject right here is his buffolicious OC Shichiro, about to do a military press in Socks Gym, hence his outfit and the background. <b>Spot Me, That's an Order. </b>(Seriously, though, is an order even necessary?) Final personal anecdote: I hate military presses, it's one of those exercises I find really painful to progress in, which overall is great coz as cliché as this may sound, pain IS gain.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://pornimghost.com/fullsize/jv7gqpc2t9htre9wfmmv.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="293" src="http://pornimghost.com/fullsize/jv7gqpc2t9htre9wfmmv.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Later guys. Remember to stay off beer and protein shakes within a two-hour period. And drugs.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Pochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10374502514845166023noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3150428696430295971.post-41193722070466162002010-09-01T13:12:00.008+08:002010-09-02T02:03:54.134+08:00Deo Hum...? Fuck Yer.The crack title is not meant to be taken literally, seriously or whateverly. It's crack. Heya.<br />
<br />
Typically as a first showing, I would post an art for myself, by myself. But aside from the fact that my latest self-stuffs are not yet done (procrastination, hello), I think it's fitting to showcase fanarts for a couple of great and creative people instead. (Plus, this me-me-me thing really has to go. Or at least, shrink.)<br />
<br />
The first fanart is kind of my tribute for a living icon, a young artist whose unique talent and lovable characters have helped launch the popularity of youth-oriented web-based homoerotica: <a href="http://humbuged./"><b>Humbuged</b></a>. By now, any gay-art-lover and his gay brother must have fantasized over his OC Keric (or Cyl or Xerude), played his legendary jerk-off games (and jerked off themselves--multiple times), and/or swallowed a Monthly Manful or two.<br />
<br />
Personal anecdote: I stumbled across Humbuged's amazing site by chance, and at admiring his art and getting off on his games I was always reminded of my childhood fascination for drawing fantasy and writing stories--desires I had to naively put on the backburner for more than a decade in favor of the so-called 'real world'. In any case, his constant creativity is one of the main reasons why, three years later, I'm in this business, so to speak.<br />
<br />
So as a thank you, here's Keric in his very own deodorant ad. <b>Deo Hum...?</b><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.pornimghost.com/fullsize/i2rx5grhvll00p0gi86.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.pornimghost.com/fullsize/i2rx5grhvll00p0gi86.jpg" width="205" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i1019.photobucket.com/albums/af313/pochpoch69/kericdeo.jpg?t=1283315235" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div>There's a couple of jokes here (although Keric in a deodorant ad is kind of a joke in itself, no?). One is the obvious: <i>Deo Hum...? (Yes, I hum.) </i>The other: Keric is about to spray himself with air freshener by mistake. A joke inspired by a scene in my fave TV show of all time, Gilmore Girls. Enjoy. And don't forget to save the elves!<br />
<br />
This second fanart is for a well-known pillar of support in the gay arts community: <b><a href="http://dinosaurprinceskingdom.blogspot.com/">Dinosaurprince</a></b>. His imagination in creating uniquely tantalizing OC's and making bizarrely delicious pairings in his commissions is boundless. Eh, I'm sure you have already checked his great blog and found that out before me. <br />
<br />
Anyway when I first saw his OC Carlos, I instantly thought, I <i>have</i> to do him. (Uh no, not like that. ...But alright it applies, too.) There's something alluring and edgy about his character, and the mecha-theme is good practice for me as well. So, several (shameful!) months later, I finally found the time (read: results-oriented mindset) to come up with this.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.pornimghost.com/fullsize/q848ww8glicp6xurxbz2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.pornimghost.com/fullsize/q848ww8glicp6xurxbz2.jpg" width="258" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i1019.photobucket.com/albums/af313/pochpoch69/FY-GRcarlosdinosaurprince.jpg?t=1283315144" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div>Carlos here is about to enter an establishment where the rules say <i>No Shirt, No Pants, No Service -- the management</i>. What does Carlos say? <b>Fuck Yer Goddamn Rules...</b>and with a stout middle mecha-finger and rockhard mecha-boner to reinforce his mecha-message, to mecha-boot. (By the way, something's written on his dick. I labeled him, mwhahaha.)<br />
<br />
If I were the maitre'd, in an instant I'll be on my knees in full apology, then go ahead and provide him some world-class service. (Get it?! Get it?!) Oh, check out DPrince's blog for his <a href="http://dinosaurprinceskingdom.blogspot.com/2010/08/sweet-gifts-from-pochpoch-and-ad140.html?zx=227fcaa6105983b6">post</a> on my work. Apparently this gift never came at a better time. Aww...<br />
<br />
That's all for now. Ciao!<br />
<br />
PS. If you really feel the need to feedback me, email your niceties to pochpoch69@live.com. Otherwise, scram. And take care!Pochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10374502514845166023noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3150428696430295971.post-87771087225768952882010-09-01T11:39:00.002+08:002010-09-01T11:40:39.336+08:00First and PochmostHey there, I'm Poch and welcome to my blog. Here in <b>Poch Nation </b>you'll find a collection of art and fiction made by yours truly, natch. My works' themes range extensively, i.e. wtf-ever-anything-goes, but mostly the subjects are, well, gay. Or solo guys. (Same difference?) Or straight guys doing gay stuff. (Yep, same difference.) Anyway I do hope you enjoy them even though by the time of this writing, I have only been 'trying to be creative' for less than a year, and 'trying to be <i>seriously</i> creative' for about a couple of months. There's a life story there, but it's boringly much fitting for a diary than a blog. Not that I keep a diary.<br />
<br />
Now that these pesky greetings are out of the way, let me end this at once so you can go and browse somewhere else. (Or, if still by your fancy, around...)<br />
<br />
PS. If you really feel like commenting or saying 'howdy', you can shoot me an e at pochpoch69@live.com. Oh, and 69 is not my YOB. 69 is, well, my age. Except, hell no! 69 is...<b>69</b>. Got it? Good. Take care!Pochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10374502514845166023noreply@blogger.com