Content Warning: This work is intended for mature (NC17) audiences. If you are younger, please kindly leave this site.
~~~
Perspective Gok
Thump! Bang, bang, bang, bang!
“You shit-lizards, give me back my lead pellet! Damn, are you trying to assassinate me or something? You won't get away with this!"
“Ouch. Jae Gok, my ears are about to burst. Turn it down a bit."
“Hey, Mâe, move! My squad is playing!”
“Damn, how dare you speak to your Mâe like that, Jae Gok!”
Today is Saturday. It is, of course, a time for students to rest. Therefore, since I woke up when the sun was high in the sky, I have dragged my unwashed, rotten body to the living room and have been obsessively playing this new treasure hunt game that was just released. But I must have been a bit too into it, because my venerable Mâe yelled from afar and then walked over and blocked my screen, damn it.
As soon as I wave my hand to shoo her away... here we go... the demoness is possessing her.
My Mâe makes a furious face, as if she wants to rip out her son's intestines to feed the crows, forcing me to pause the game.
I say in a whining voice. "Oh, Mâe, it's the feeling. If I don't shout, I don't get into the mood."
“Do you want to be hit with a clothes hanger? Maybe that will kill the mood.”
“Mâe!" She is not just threatening me; she raises the clothes hanger above her head. Judging by the situation and her expression, she seems serious. So I drop the game controller on the floor and throw myself down to lie on top of Âi Moo.
My dog is so kind. As long as there is no food, he just lazes around all day. It is the same now. The Siberian with his clear blue eyes lifts his head to look at me for a moment, then flops down to lie on his back, offering his belly for me to snuggle into nicely.
“Ouch. Both the person and the dog are exactly the same. How lazy can you be?"
“Not that long, Mâe. Just the length of this one sofa.”
“Whimper, whimper, whimper.”
Yes, Khrap. Moo just lies on his belly, waiting for his lunch, sir.
My Mâe seems too weary to scold me further, because she shakes her head vigorously and turns to go upstairs, but she cannot help grumbling.
“Other people's juniors go to tutoring classes to prepare for entrance exams. Look at my son. He does not study, he only plays. He does not clean his room. Ouch, is this a person's room or a rat's nest!”
“Oh, it's the dog's room, Mâe. Moo messed it up.” I shout after her, then turn to talk to the dog. “Right? It's your fault, right, Moo?”
“Woof!” He barks in response, and if I misunderstand Moo's language...
Moo might be guilty, but please give me a big portion for lunch, Chao-nai.
“Yeah, yeah. Then I continue playing the game.”
“Gok! Jae Gok!” But before I can press start to continue, my Mâe's call rings out loudly.
“Come up here!”
I can only gape, but I still dawdle, refusing to get up, until...
“Is this your shirt? Since when do you have a shirt this big?”
Shirt?... Damn it!!!
Whoosh!!!
“Mâe! Don't touch that shirt!!!"
From a lazy youth, I spring up no differently from a roly-poly doll and leap to the second floor without regard for my life. My eyes are wide open, because the mentioned shirt is undoubtedly no one else's... it is the one I took from that cake shop owner nearby.
Slam!
“What is wrong with you? Why are you making such a racket?”
It is too late. As I open the door and enter, my Mâe is holding up a dark-colored t-shirt to look at, and I almost raise my hands to cover my face. The side facing me has dry, blotchy stains. I do not want anyone to know what caused them, or for how many days I have been doing this.
I have been wrestling with it in the trash can since Wednesday. Today is Saturday, and I still have not returned it to its owner. Furthermore, I do not dare to linger near the shop. As soon as school ends, I stick with my friends. I feel relieved every time I look left and right and do not see Phîi Pong waiting to ambush me. So it has remained with me.
As for why I have not returned it, I am ashamed of having made a fool of myself, that is true. But more importantly... I have no face left to meet Phîi Pong.
Count them. Wednesday night, Thursday, Friday. Three full nights that I... have been getting off with the shirt!!!
Ugh, I want to hang myself, but the shame is not as strong as the desire. Every time I look at it, it is like being beckoned by a succubus every time.
Yes, I have used it as a tool for creating pleasure for three full nights. About two loads per night. Therefore, I have climaxed because of (the shirt of) Phîi Pong no less than six times. So how can I possibly have the face to go see Phîi?
“So, whose shirt is this? It is not your Phîi's, is it?”
“It belongs to... uh... to... Âi Ton! Yes, Âi Ton!”
“Is Ton that big?”
Mâe, can you stop asking so many questions? I am getting a pain in my side from lying.
I am trembling, afraid my Mâe will catch on, but I do not dare to snatch it back for fear of looking suspicious.
I watch my Mâe stuff it into the laundry basket and then order me in a strong voice. “When did you borrow this? Why is the shirt so filthy? I will soak it for a bit. Once it is washed and spun dry, return it to your friend this evening. Leaving it piled up, you just throw it in your room. In a moment, Moo will take it as his bed again. So return it to him quickly.”
“But Monday... "
“Ton's house is just over there, not Bang Na–Salaya. Return it to him today.”
I am screwed. How can I tell her it is not Bang Na–Salaya, but Our House–The Cake Shop Near School? In the end, I can only accept her words, watching my Mâe grumble as she goes to clean my room, then walk away carrying the laundry basket downstairs.
“Mâe, I will do it. I just need to put it in the machine, right?”
This time, I transform into a good boy. I help take it down, I help wash, I even help hang it out to dry. If Mâe sees the stains and figures it out, where will I put my face? Therefore...
Phô, Mâe, I am sorry. All that washing together... it is all your son's semen!
***
Damn duck, damn goose, damn crocodile, damn turtle!
If you ask why I am dredging up all these animals, worried I will get banned, it is because I feel my efforts are in vain!
I spend hours waiting for the clothes to dry, sitting and reciting incantations to summon courage and shamelessness into my physical body. I chant prayers all the way there. I even chant when I stop along the way. I also recite the lines I have prepared dozens of times, all to end up standing in front of the brightly colored, attractive sweet shop, where the sign on the front door is flipped to... Close.
What the hell am I doing, stressing myself to the point of liver pain!
I never knew the shop was closed on Saturdays. Today, the front is locked tight.
The chairs are up, there are no employees, no customers. It makes me realize I have come for nothing. I grip the bag containing the shirt so tightly my knuckles turn white, and I cannot help but be surprised at why I am so angry.
Wasted time... that is one reason.
Afraid of awkwardness... that is another.
Stressing myself out... that is it too.
All of that should make me happy that the shop is closed, because I can just leave the shirt in the mailbox, or pile it in front of the shop. But in reality, I am frustrated to death because... I did not get to see Phîi Pong.
"And why the hell would I want to see him?"
I stand dejected, walk close to the shop window, press my face against the glass, and peer inside to double-check that no one is really there. It is dark and quiet. Forget people, I do not even see a single fly. I let out a heavy sigh, fogging up the glass.
"I did not want to see him; I wanted to eat cake. Last time, Âi Moo tempted me away before I finished the whole box." I affirm to myself.
He is really not here. He is really not here.
I peer in again and again, both hands pressed against the shop glass now. But just as I think I should give up...
Tap
"Wahhhhhhhhhh!!!"
Suddenly, a hand comes to rest on my shoulder, making me startle violently. I let out a scream as if I have seen a ghost, and I seem to startle the ghost because he quickly withdraws his hand, giving me the chance to spin around and look at that ghost. And then I... stand there gaping.
No, it is not strange that the person who tapped me is a man with a sharp, handsome face, thick eyebrows, and a kind smile. But what makes my eyes pop out is something lower.
No, no, not below the waist. Well, even though what is below the waist looks bulgy and large, making me a little envious, what shocks me is something higher... the shirt.
"Why are you wearing this shirt!"
I shout loudly, pointing a trembling finger at the familiar blue shirt... how can it not be familiar? I used it to wrap my sticky rice dumplings!
That shirt, which I not only smelled but also fantasized elaborate ways to use on myself, is now back on that cool figure with broad shoulders, a deep, alluring collarbone, and hard, visible chest muscles, which makes me... swallow hard.
The image from that day is vividly imprinted on my eyes.
"Hmm, why? Is there something wrong with it?" Phîi Pong asks me, confused, looking down at himself. It is something I do not want to admit: seeing that shirt on a body like this makes me feel like... I have been rubbing my naked body against Phîi Pong himself!
Yes, definitely around the collar, where it felt the best when I rubbed against it.
Gulp
In the end, I can only raise both hands to cover my face, because I keep imagining myself rubbing my thing against the collar, and the point is... while Phîi Pong is wearing this very shirt!
"Hey, Nong Gok, are you alright?"
Gulp
"Da... don't touch me."
Phîi Pong must be very startled by my expression, because he rushes forward to grab my arm. And because he comes close, I glance at the collar, and yes, it is desirable, it hits the spot, making me swallow hard again. I tell him sharply not to touch me. It is not that I am reserved, but I am afraid I might jump him instead!
"Uh, do you dislike me?"
No, no way, no!
"If you want me to come near, you have to go change your shirt!" I blurt out my inner thoughts casually, making Phîi Pong look puzzled. He pulls his collar up to look for anything abnormal, but do you understand? A perverted youth like me has such extreme imagination that I feel like rubbing myself right there, forcing out an ultimatum.
"Go change your shirt right now."
"Why?"
Because it makes me feel things!
I think that in my heart, but my mouth is still quick enough...
"It stinks!!!"
"Hmm! But I washed it. Does it still have a smell?"
"It stinks! It stinks so much, Phîi. Don't come near me!"
I do not care if anyone thinks I am being a drama-queen. Let me just state firmly that this shirt stinks terribly. I do not care if it makes Phîi Pong's confidence plummet. I only know that it stinks... it stinks of the hidden, fishy smell that has followed me here.
Please, Phîi, just throw this shirt away. Don't wear it where I can see it again. I really don't trust myself, dammit!
I briefly respect my conscience, which tells me I should buy a new shirt to replace the old one that was defiled beyond recognition, and keep that one as a secret.
My top secret... but then again, my secrets are like bean sprouts, sprouting up one more story every day, aren't they?
"Here, Phîi, I bought a shirt to return to you."
I do not really remember how, after shouting in his face that his shirt stinks, I ended up following Phîi Pong into the shop and up to his house. I only know that I manage to calm my mind a little by avoiding looking at the shirt Phîi is wearing. Even when I hand him the bag with the new shirt, I still do not look, while my other hand grips my backpack tightly.
Inside is the evidence I have not yet disposed of.
"Oh, a new one?" Phîi Pong, who has changed his shirt, asks, while accepting the bag I am shaking in front of him.
"I got your shirt dirty... it won't come out."
I mutter the last sentence. How could it come out... the memories I have embedded into that shirt.
"Nong Gok, you did not have to buy a new one to return to me."
"You don't want it, Phîi? Then give it back."
Snatch
Before I can grab the bag of the shirt back, annoyed by this man's kindness, Phîi Pong pulls the bag behind his back. It is enough to make me look up and meet his sharp eyes, only to find that Phîi Pong... is smiling.
A really wide smile.
"Nong Gok bought it for me; how can I not accept it?"
"Then why are you smiling? Aren't you going to check the shirt first? I might have bought you a floral print shirt." I already said I lose to Phîi Pong's gaze. So, him flashing a handsome, sparkling smile like that makes me speak in a subdued, soft voice. And Phîi his answer makes me even more irritated.
"If you bought it for me, I would like them all... I trust your taste."
"Trust what? You're crazy."
That's right. Why trust me? Don't trust me. I'm not a good boy like you see.
"Hahahaha. That's right. I think I'm crazy too."
Yeah, good that you know you're crazy. And why are you scratching your neck shyly!
I really do not understand Phîi Pong. Right now, he should want to throw me out of his house after I criticized his shirt for stinking, even though there is no smell, and then made a loud, noisy scene in front of the shop, ruined the shirt forcing me to buy a new one to return. But Phîi Pong still gives me a kind-hearted man's smile, his sharp eyes shining with happiness, and then says with ultimate shamelessness.
"Crazy because I look every day, wondering when Nong Gok will come."
I fall completely silent. I understand the feeling of my hands becoming fidgety. Moreover, my cheeks feel strangely hot from the kind smile in front of me.
Is he hitting on me or something?
"Were you that afraid I would skip out on you?" But I still say it teasingly, hoping to see Phîi Pong scowl at me a bit. But Phîi he still smiles, looks down at the bag, and pulls out the brand new dark-colored t-shirt.
That is the reason why I came here so late, even though I left home in the late afternoon.
"It's nice."
Of course. I am still confident in my fashion sense.
Now Phîi Pong unfolds the black shirt, looking at it left and right with satisfaction. But then he frowns slightly when he sees the brand.
"But you did not have to buy such an expensive shirt for me."
"It's not expensive, Phîi. Please take it. If you don't want it, I can't wear it anyway."
My Phô gives me extra money every month. I usually save it. It is only this month that I withdrew it to use. Even though the shirt is expensive, it cannot compare to what I have done. Furthermore, I have caused Phîi Pong trouble many times. Every time we meet, it is only bad things. Therefore, this shirt is to repay the debt, free myself, and we are done.
That is what I think.
"Sigh, in the future, you do not need to buy anything this expensive for me."
Ugh, are you still hoping for a next time, Phîi? This time we are finished. Get it?
I say all that to myself. It is like, when I see his face, I cannot speak, so I just grip the strap of my backpack and tell myself... it is time to make a move.
Whoosh
Hmm!
"Hey, Phîi Pong, why are you taking it off!"
At that moment, I hear the sound of fabric rustling, forcing me to turn and look again, and I find... the cake shop owner pulling his shirt off over his head with a motion that is... X-rated.
Gasp! Wait, why do I think a man taking his shirt off is X-rated?
I can only stand there with my mouth hanging open, watching the man who is built like a tower quickly pull his shirt off over his head and toss it casually onto the sofa, revealing...
Ugh!
Wait, why am I swallowing saliva?!
Now what I see is a man who is so mature that I instantly understand the phrase 'a man with a three-cubit chest'. This baker's shoulders are broad, his shoulder area is strong, his muscles are beautifully developed, his collarbones are deep-set, his chest is hard with visible muscles, adorned with dark nipples, and his abdomen shows the ridges of muscles arranged into a six-pack, then disappearing into his pants, where I can see faint, soft hair. Just Phîi Pong moving... I see the patterns of his muscles shifting.
While others might admire it and want it for themselves, for me...
Smack
Why am I licking my lips?!
I almost raise my hand to cover my mouth when I inadvertently use my tongue to lick my dry lips. A feeling like when I watch the AV that Âi Ton sent me flashes into my head. Suddenly, I... want to lick.
Back then, I thought I wanted to lick the cream. But now I really do not know what I want to lick.
It... all of it looks so damn edible.
The shoulders, the chest, the abdomen. Damn it, I think even the dark nipples look suckable!
Fwip
But the captivating view that held my gaze disappears as Phîi Pong manages to put on the new shirt instead, before looking up and giving me a wide smile.
"How do I look?"
"Edi... I mean, good-looking!"
I almost let the word 'edible' slip out, but luckily I stop my mouth in time and change my words instantly, making him raise his hand to scratch his neck.
I am starting to notice that Phîi Pong scratches his neck when he is shy.
"Thank you."
Not only does he just say thanks, he also seems to understand it is for the shirt. But what is this movement of stepping closer to me? And why am I not stepping back to escape?
"And now my shirt is fragrant... see."
What should I do about this situation? Phîi Pong pulls the hem of his shirt up and offers it to me, as if to say... smell it.
Who would be stupid enough to smell it?
Me, that's who!
I want to slap myself silly when I inadvertently lower my head to smell the shirt, filling my lungs. It might be because I am addicted to smelling his shirt while masturbating. And smelling Phîi Pong's shirt makes me glance at his body along with it.
"It just... smells like a new shirt."
Even I can hear my voice trembling. I feel like I am stepping onto a road strewn with caltrops and cannot get out. The one who scattered them is none other than the person smiling kindly at me. He even takes another step closer, so the smell of the new shirt is mixed with another scent... a sweet, distinctive scent.
Phîi Pong emits a scent... that is delectable.
Yes, a scent like this is very delectable. It smells like...
Ding!
Gasp!
I startle slightly when a sound comes from the other side, but I am more shocked that I have been burying my face against Phîi Pong's forearm since who knows when. I only know my nose is touching his dark skin, making me pull back abruptly. Meanwhile, Phîi Pong himself just raises an eyebrow slightly and speaks as if remembering something.
"I forgot I left the pastries in the oven."
Phîi Pong quickly breaks away towards the kitchen, leaving me behind, taking deep breaths to calm my emotions. This is a monumental mistake, because when Phîi Pong opens the oven, the scent of soft, sweet, mouth-watering cake fills the entire room, making me feel strangely hot and bothered.
"Sorry, let me finish handling this cake first. Anyway, Nong, please stay and have dinner together."
Click
I swear I do not turn because of the word... cake.
Right now, Phîi Pong is taking a two-pound, square-shaped cake pan, inside of which is soft, fluffy cake, out to let the outside cool. He then turns to open the refrigerator and takes out a container that is probably fresh cream, preparing a large bowl filled with both ice and cold water. This attracts my attention enough to move in for a closer look.
[[Translator's Note: but seriously folks cakes do not cool this fast.]]
"What are you doing, Phîi?"
"Whipping fresh cream. Actually, my shop is closed on Saturdays, but this was a rush order from a regular customer, so I have to make it."
I must be making a strange face, because Phîi Pong explains further while using a knife to cut open the cardboard box and pour the cream into the bowl, mixing it with sugar.
"Don't you need to measure first?"
I have some idea that it requires the right proportions. Phîi Pong just laughs softly.
"If you have made pastries every day for ten years, you will stop using measuring tools yourself. Our hands are the most accurate."
"Are you that old?"
I am not trying to be annoying; I am genuinely curious. With a face like that, he cannot be thirty yet. Phîi Pong does not take offense and even laughs.
"I am quite a bit older than you. When you were probably in elementary school, I was already in university."
"Right, right, I know you're old. So what's next, Phîi?" I am genuinely curious. I have only ever eaten; I have never seen anyone make it. So, seeing it with my own eyes makes me especially interested, until Phîi Pong gives a faint smile that probably means he finds me endearing. He then turns on the electric mixer and starts whipping the fresh cream in the bowl in the same direction.
"Does it take long to become cream?"
"Not long. With a machine, about eight minutes. But if using manual force, it takes longer... whipping cream like this is quite tiring."
"And have you ever whipped it yourself?"
"I have. I even competed with a friend to see who could whip the cream to stiff peaks first. I was almost dead tired."
"No wonder. Your muscles are so defined."
Phîi Pong laughs heartily, but I do not pay attention. I just keep watching the liquid, rich, white fresh cream that has air whipped into it. After a while, it still does not look like the fluffy cream ready to eat; it is still just a liquid. I look up at the person making it to ask, but... what does this look in his eyes mean?
Phîi Pong is not looking at the cream in his hands. Phîi Pong is looking at me and... smiling.
Has he been staring at me this whole time?
"Why are you looking at me?"
"Hmm, can I say something?"
Geez, you stare at me like that and still ask if you can say something?
I must be making the face I am thinking, because Phîi Pong gives a dry laugh and then reaches out his hand again and places it on my head again, which I do not avoid again.
"It is just that Nong Gok is making such a cute face."
Fwip
"You should spend the time praising me on making the pastry instead."
I pull my head away from his hand. It is not that I am coldly-aloof... I am flustered!
Therefore, I turn my gaze back to the bowl of cream, but I cannot stop my hand from reaching up to touch my own head. I try not to care whether the owner of the room is still staring at me or not. I just stare intently at the white bowl of cream, as if telling it to fluff up quickly. I am tired of watching you to hide my embarrassment.
"Really so cute."
Because I refuse to look up, I do not see what expression Phîi Pong is making. It is a good thing the fresh cream is starting to fluff up, so it can completely capture the attention of a sweet-tooth like me.
Other matters slip out of my head. I am only interested in whether the seemingly soft cream in front of me will be sweet and soft on my tongue.
Clunk
Phîi Pong turns off the electric mixer. He lifts it up to check if it is ready.
"Is that all, Phîi?"
"Yes, this is enough to use for decorating the cake now."
"And you're not going to taste it, Phîi?!"
I do not really want to eat it. May lightning strike me—er, no, bad—may Moo run around chasing his own tail, I do not really want to eat it. I am just asking to make sure Phîi Pong is certain he should taste it before decorating the cake. What if the sugar he estimated is not right? Will you be able to take responsibility if the person who ordered it does not like it? I genuinely mean well.
I think my voice sounds serious, looking steadily at Phîi Pong, who probably understands our mutual agreement: I want to eat it, I want to eat it, I want to eat it.
This voice in my head is screaming like a siren.
"Phîi is not going to taste it... "
What a waste!
I curse in my heart, before falling silent because...
Whoosh
"Phîi will let you help me taste it instead."
I freeze completely. It is not because Phîi Pong is letting me help him taste it, but because of what he is going to let me taste... his long fingertip, which he swipes through the pure white fresh cream, coating his long finger, and is then brought to my lips with the expression of a kind-hearted man who has no ill intentions towards a young man like me at all.
Do not eat it, Gok! You must not! What if it is so delicious you get an erection? More importantly, sucking on Phîi his finger is extremely strange. It is absolutely forbidden!
I think that licking his finger is extremely bizarre.
Snap
Sometimes my brain and my hands may not cooperate, because I do not know what my brain is thinking, but my hand grabs Pong's wrist, and my tongue... licks the tip of Pong's finger.
Sweet
The first sensation I feel is a sweetness that spreads throughout my entire body, followed by a softness and a lightness that fills my mouth. It is so soft and gentle that it melts on the tip of my tongue. The more I lick, the more I perceive a creamy, sweet, and rich sensation until I think that just licking is not enough.
Slurp
I therefore open my mouth and insert Pong's finger into my mouth to its full length. Then I suck all the cream off, desiring to fully experience its soft lightness. My mouth closes around the base of the finger, pursing as small as possible, and then I suck all the way up to almost the tip. But because I fear some might be left behind, I suck it up and down several more times, making loud slurping sounds as I draw the sweet cream fully into my mouth. It gives me a feeling like sucking on a round ice cream bar. I feel satisfied with the softness and the firmness of something pressing against the roof of my mouth.
Even though it is not cold like an ice cream bar, its warmth makes me flick my tongue and lick from the base to the tip, biting down in the middle, before pushing it around inside my mouth several times...
Wait a minute. The cream is truly sweet and delicious, but that thing moving around in my oral cavity...
Gasp!!!
The moment I become aware, I spit out what I am holding in my mouth, causing saliva to drip messily down the long finger. My enjoyment turns into disaster as the owner of the finger is staring at me with wide eyes and asks in an uncertain tone of voice.
"Is my finger that delicious, Khrap?"
Thump!!!
At that point, I realize that I have finished giving a blow job to someone else. But what I gave a blow job to was not a forbidden part but... the finger of the cake shop owner!!!
Shit-lizards!!! Let me die!
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