The One with the Cockring


Baby girl, I have nothing to say to him.

So I’m writing these words for you.

Your fiancé fucks guys on the side.

He’s been telling you you’re the main course, but you’re just the appetizer.

On the bright side, he had nothing but nice things to say about you. And you looked very beautiful in that engagement picture he showed me. You seemed happy, holding that bouquet, imagining what your life would look like.

Little do you know he gets his dick sucked every twice in a while.

“I’m getting married soon”, he said nonchalantly after coming on my chest.

I didn’t see that one coming, nor his cock ring.

“Ah, cool. Congrats!”, I replied. You know, cause I’m so open-minded and cool and all that.

Truthfully, it’s not cool at all, and no “Congratulations” is in order. In fact, it’s a “El 3awad bi slemtik” kind of situation.

Every day you spend married to him is a sad occasion.

Every time he skips family dinner and heads to his private office, we’ll mourn your innocence.

Every time you smell a different perfume on his shirt and think he changed his scent, a piece of your soul gets chipped away.

All because he would do anything to conform. Even ruining someone else’s life along the way.

El 3awad bi slemtik.

The Audition


How was the handshake?

Was it as firm as you like it to be?

When you first heard my voice, what did you think?

Effeminate? Manly? In-between?

Am I short? Tall? Is a 3-inch difference okay?

Am I your type? What you were hoping? Or do you not recognize me without the Instagram filters?

The perfume. A good choice? Momma always said you can never go wrong with CK.

What about the teeth? I ran out of whitening gel. Can you tell?

Do I put two elbows on the table in this fancy restaurant? I didn’t have time to tell you I was raised by wolves.

The nail-biting…

I know, I know. It’s awful.

But I remembered what you did for a living. “Creative Director”, yeah? Does that score me some points?

Do I laugh too loud? I did the pig snort. Were you embarrassed?

I excuse myself to go to the bathroom but pay the check instead.

Is it working?

Am I going home with you tonight?

Or is there a better prospect at 11 PM?

Our cheeks touch as we say goodbye.

Did you feel it? A skipped heartbeat. A hard on in the making.

Did you see it? A one-night stand? Two, tops?

Will there be another rendezvous? A callback?

Do you want some time to think about it?

Check the roles you have available.

Starring role. Supporting role. Guest appearance.

Is this it?

Is there more?

Or am I just ending up on the cutting room floor?

All Desperate. No Housewife.


You came here to fuck me. Don’t you forget that.

You’re the best sex of my life, and you’re very sweet. But a heart emoticon on Whatsapp is the closest thing we’ll be to lovers.

I’ve never been this comfortable with a guy before, and nothing you do seems to turn me off. Not even when you tell me you’ve fucked that pop star.

But there’s no time to catch feelings.

Let’s keep it simple.

You’re a phone call and a lube bottle away.

Why risk screwing things up?

We’re in my bedroom. Chest to chest. Slow dancing to Del Rey. And it hits me: “this boy is falling”.

I feel bad, until you’re inside me. I honestly wouldn’t have it any other way.

Maybe in an alternate universe we’re seeing where this goes. But right here, right now… is not a normal situation.

The door’s locked and my parents are in the other room. Don’t you forget that.

You’re the best. And I mean it.

You’re my boy. Just not the only one.

Plus, let’s be honest… you don’t make it easy to fall for you. You’re still new to this thing, and you won’t even add me on Facebook.

It would never work, and 8AM traffic is the only drama I can handle right now.

I promise I’ll wake up next to you. But I can’t promise you’ll be the one I leave with on a Friday night.

Now, put your heart aside and wear your cock on your sleeve instead. We’ve only got 20 minutes.

Dirty sheets and condom wrappers on the floor. That’s the only altar we’ll ever walk on.

Black Sabbath


Church bells. White flowers.
He wears a suit that we picked together.

Shaky hands. A nervous laugh.
He has an ominous look only I can decipher.

A fake smile. A last-minute cigarette.
He’s burning the 5-year pages we came to regret.

Loud honks. A fancy limousine.
He replays our memories scene by scene.

A father walking down the aisle. A blushing bride.
He’s searching for my familiar face on the groom’s side.

“We are gathered here today”. “For richer or for poorer”.
He can’t tell. Is this a wedding or a funeral?

Jesus on every wall. Matching rings.
He stares at her but looks at his everything.

The crowd is silent. The moment of truth.
His heart says no, but his lips say “I do”.

One final goodbye. One last handshake.
He’s convinced tradition is better than heartbreak.

“Mabrouk 3arees”. “3a2belak habibi”.
He’s the one that never was and never will be.






My incognito friend, thanks for making the visuals come to life.


NSFW: طيابك يا صبي

Sitting on the ledge of the roof.
My legs wrapped around your waist.
The wolves are howling.
Beirut is silent.
That’s our now.

Smoke in the sky.
Stars in our eyes.
Beit Mery in our lungs.
Liquid in our courage.
Tomorrow is but an option.

Two dollars in our pockets.
A thousand possibilities.
One shot.
No repeats.
The clock says 12:20 am. And that’s where it stops.

“Can we stay here all night?”.
“Only if you…”.
A whisper in my left ear.
A moan begging for mercy.
There’s no pill involved. But this is ecstasy.

All the years we sinned.
All the shadows we chased.
If I die right now,
I would have lived.


The ex of your ex is your next top


You weren’t supposed to hook up with my ex-man.

That wasn’t the plan.

I’m not saying he’s not hot enough. He is. And I’ve seen what he’s packing. (Congratulations)

But it was supposed to be you and I. And I know we’re not kids here… but “I saw you first”.

Yes, yes, we’re both bottoms, and I can’t fuck you worth a dime. But I’m pretty sure there have been worse plans made in this world, no?

Just one night.

Maybe after a drunken party at Decks.

Maybe after another accidental “Hey.Role?Place?” on Grindr.

Let’s make it happen.

It’s been two years in the making. And you don’t know what you’re missing. I give great head. I have a decent ass. And it helps that he’s always traveling.

If you want to wait till after you break up, that’s cool. But just a heads up… your stock might go down when you’re single again. You know how it is. It’s because I can’t have you now that I can’t help but want you.

Either way, “Grindr” me when you’ve moved on.

We’ll get a drink, or two, and share what we hate, or love, most about him.

You know what they say. The ex of an ex is your friend. And with the right amount of alcohol, your next top.

NSFW: Groundhog Gay


White lines on a stranger’s chest.
Dark circles under his once-hopeful eyes.
The pain from his ass is nothing compared to the pain he feels inside.

It’s all he knows.
Grindr 3al terwee2a. Scruff 3al ghada. Ouw Tinder 3al 3asha.
Grindr bel 7emmem. Grindr 3al taree2. Grindr bel sahra.
And he thought quitting smoking was hard…

He’s at it again.
Searching for love in a dark alley.
Restaurants have lost their charm.
He goes for Starbucks bathrooms instead.

He’s seen it all.
5-floor villas in Adma.
Two-star motels in Hamra.

Done it all.
10-inches. 6-inches. Microscopic.
His memory card can’t handle another dick pic.
Threesomes. Nine-somes. Saunas. Straight porn.
Jockstraps. Role-play. Viagra. Give him more.

“Fast food” is all he knows.
3 am texting. 2-hour stands. Assessing naked torsos.
He came. He saw. He came again.

Elvis has left the continent.
The fat lady is signing autographs.
It’s all been said.
They’ve all been done.

1:30 am.
The crowd is new, but he’s been here before.
His eyes are hazy. So is his judgment.
Jägerbomb. Blow Job.
Let’s give this another shot.