“Mom, I’m going to run away and join the circus.”
I joked but he didn’t get it. English wasn’t his first language and it took an American to get the context. In his case, this was real.
I shouldn’t be laughing.
“Will you be gone when I get there?” I asked. He was working as a Physical Therapist in Busan when I was chatting with him.
His plans were to move to Seoul and then travel in Asia, joining various circuses to practice and then finally aim for the big ones - Cirque du Soleil or Lennon bros circus.
Yes. It was this dude’s dream. Running away to the circus.
Not as a circus clown but one of those acrobatic entertainers, mostly Chinese or Russian gymnasts who didn’t make the cut at the Olympics, joined. Competition was stiff but he wasn’t giving up.
It was his photographs in the dating app that caught my attention. The way his limbs rotated and stretched as he did his handstands which caught my attention.
“When did you know you wanted to do this?” I asked. I could tell that he had the form of someone who’d been doing this for a very long time.
“I was a child, ten years old. I liked gymnastics and enjoyed standing on my hands,” he said.
“Wow. Don’t you get dizzy?” I asked.
“I like the feeling. It makes me calm to stand this way.”
“So, can you walk on your hands?” I asked. Yes, these are dumb questions, but I was truly not making fun of him other than the mom joke.
“Yes,” he smiled.
One shouldn’t deride another’s passion. “So, I’m planning to publish my Byeontae book,” I said.
“Good! Can you sign a book and give it to my mom?” he asked.
“Are you for real? You want me to meet your mom?” I laughed. “So can I ask her what she thinks about her son running to the circus? And maybe we can have a friend-and-mom spa day, and she can ask me where did I meet her twenty-six-year-old son.”
“Haha. They support me.”
“I know. Of course. The fact that you are dropping a decent career to do this, they must really support you,” I said.
And no, I wasn’t making fun of this. It was amazing that a family in Korea’s competitive society would let their son do what he wanted — trapeze in a circus.
Would I be okay with this for my kids?
Was there always double standards when I’m chatting and playing with the guys versus my family? Yes, double standards exist but until my kiddos get to adulthood, mommy was still in charge.
Circus Guy knew a lot about bones, muscles, nerves and the workings of a body, and when I had a sprain I’d asked him about it.
In my world, the careers we had here were mostly engineering or mom-ing. Moms were all I knew, and talking about their kids was the last thing I wanted to hear.
These guys were way more interesting on so many levels. He and many of the guys whom I’d chatted with from the dating apps in Korea didn’t have lives like mine or people I knew, and they were fun, cute, and sexy.
But, this wouldn’t be a Byeontae book if all we talked about were Korean circus acts.
Circus Guy matched me as I matched him for one main purpose — legs and hands for me, and boobs for him.
Big boobs are indeed the International currency, and open all doors including Circus Guy’s because he was Team Boob.
Yes, he totally fits the bill — planner, comfort, and security. Okay, maybe not. He might also be a Butt person too but tbh, I don’t care.
He was a sub. He enjoyed my bossy nature and how I shook my boobs and used my dildo to fuck them. We played vid sex when he wanted and I stripped and flashed while he was at work waiting for his next patient. He saw my Byeontae insta pics and we together enjoyed multiple orgasms and cums.
“Have you heard of Furniture porn?” I asked him. Somehow, imagining him on his hands was super kinky and those positions he took reminded me of the Japanese porn H showed me. That genre was one of my favorites. Trust the Japanese to have all possible and impossible porn genres in the world. Add sex with their weird, crazy sense of humor, you get Furniture porn.
The greatest irony was that this was an idea I thought of too when I was a teenager. My perverted mind extended to anything sexual.
Hormones-driven, anything in the normal world was dick-shaped and ready to be experimented.
Thinking the whole world was dicks and a playground I’d love to try.
“What is that?” he asked.
“A girl wakes up from a bed made of naked men with erections. She grabs a cock and gives him a blow job as she rubs her eyes and then rolls on the men from top to bottom and back again.”
“Wow,” he replied.
“Yes. It’s so hot! She brushes her teeth with a cock and squeezes another for ‘toothpaste’ and then pretends another is a tap to rinse her teeth.”
“Do you see their faces?” he asked.
“No. They have hood masks. You only see their bodies.”
Which made sense. If it was me, I’d have a stripping part and have the hands of men slowly take off my clothes and rub my body giving me a massage while a cock enters my pussy when I bend over to wear my pants.
The imagination can go wild. The furniture porn video was tamed compared to the many ways I could use a house full of dicks.
“In the movie, her girlfriends (Four other Japanese women) come to visit and each sit on a man-chair with the dicks sticking out and each woman gets fucked while they talk about everyday things, and eat their lunch.”
“I see the concept,” he said. Though he wasn’t as amused as I was. How is it a man running off to a circus not see this as funny?
Circus Guy wasn’t the only one who loved handstands. There were three others who were good with their hands. Calisthenics and Parkour were growing in popularity among their generation.
I always wondered what it was like to be moving one’s body in a continuous motion, never stopping, to keep going in that constant run.
I wish I could be like that. Unafraid of falling or breaking some bones.
Do guys like them have never-ending energy? I had to prove that point because experiments were something I enjoyed.
I slept with all three guys except Circus Guy, and the conclusion was, it didn’t matter.
Out of 3, only 1 had the stamina to play with me. The rest were knocked out after two cums. Circus Guy, I wouldn’t know because what we had was short-lived.
“Have you wondered what it was like to have a blow job while doing your handstand?” My curiosity was going to eat me again.
“What?” His emoticon was angry.
“What?” I replied. “Aren’t you curious?”
“No! Handstanding is serious.”
“Yes, of course. But do you get excited upside down?” I pushed on. Rationality had stopped. We have passed Faux Pas, landing in the red zone.
My feet were bubbling in lava, but my stubborn, fixated mind kept going.
“Fuck you,” he texted and in one shot, I was blocked.
I deserved it. Or did I? Did it warrant that extreme an action?
Sometimes I wondered if I was taking this BRAT thing too seriously.
Who was gonna punish this naughty puppy? You?
Until then, I will keep burning bridges till someone stops me.