The Lust Supper

One of the hardest things about uprooting is the saying farewell part.

Having said that, one of the nicest things about uprooting is the saying farewell part.

Because, like a funeral, people whether they're your close circles or friends whom you haven't met for a while, would suddenly make time for you, all lining up to meet you and say their goodbyes.

And tonight, it is one of those nights, but with people who matter most in my life.

My partner J, whom I fell in love with in 2002, as well as my besties Stanley the sex bunny and Carl the dense one, whom I also fell in love with as my gay best friends, in 1999.

And then there are Terry my straight best friend and Nisa my straight best girl friend, both of whom I fell in love with since 1991.

"Oh, I'm so happy to meet your puberty friends," Stanley said to me that Friday night. "I especially love Nisa," he said.

That night, we were all gathering at Nisa's condo, beside Haw Par Villa.

She's also known as the capable one who singlehandedly bought a condo unit without breaking a sweat or her piggy bank.

She's also known as the capable one who climbed the corporate ladder within six years of her career.

Stanley would sometimes ask me why Nisa is so successful at her work place.

"My question is, did she climb the ranks vertically... or, " Stanley paused for effect, "horizontally?"

Truth be told, Nisa wouldn't do it.

She would never in her life sleep her way up.

Nisa doesn't need to.

She has what it takes.

Stanley, to be fair to him, also wouldn't sleep his way up.

Stanley also doesn't need to.

After all, Stanley would just simply just sleep around - whether it's to go up or down, or sideways or backwards. It's one of his passions in life.

At exactly 7:13pm, a grand total of 40 minutes late, Stanley sheepishly walked into Nisa's condo with Carl the dense one behind him.

"Sorry we are late," Stanley said.

"I have no excuse," he said, looking defeated.

"I can't even say we're fashionably late," he said, looking at Carl with disdain.

Our dense friend Carl, who was dressed in a super micro tight top that looked like what Spiderman had worn when he was 11, paired with an ultra short pair of shorts which looked like what Wonderwoman had worn when she was 11, smiled like a goon at his hostsess.

Nisa the ever gracious hostess with the mostess immediately said heartily, "welcome boys, welcome. Make yourselves at home."

J was as usual making himself useful by helping out in the kitchen.

"You have such a lovely couch," Stanley said, plonking himself onto Nisa's leather sofa, making himself useless.

Terry my best friend began pouring white wine and passed it to Carl and Stanley.

That night, as my farewell dinner, Nisa had insisted on cooking me a warm, Peranakan meal.

All my life, I am surrounded by Peranakans.

Stanley, who used to respond to the nickname Little Nonya, is a true blue baba who grew up in a three-storey house with his matriarch of a mum Mrs Monica Ong, in a household that spoke a mix of Malay and Peranakan-accented English.

Nisa, meanwhile, would probably have to respond to the nickname Large Nonya, given that she's rather large and in charge.

She's a typical nonya - she's a feisty chilli padi when she needs to be, but is by and large everyone's best friend 'cos she has a hearty laughter.

For my farewell, Nisa had laboured for an entire week, I kid you not.

She had planned this party with precise execution.

It started seven days ago when she went to Batam to source for Buah Keluark.

Though Stanley grew up eating his family's Buah Keluark, he had once sampled Nisa's version and had for once, said hers tasted better than his family's.

A rare remark for true blue Peranakans. 

Nisa is also making my favourite chap chye, as well as home-made achar.

"We love our achar crunchy so we let our cucumbers sun a little longer," Nisa would say.

And then, just to balance out the richness of the meal, Nisa whipped up a simple cabbage and fishaball soup dish.

By exactly 7:24pm, the food was all dished out on Nisa's dinning table.

Photos were taken, and rice was passed around, and dinner was about to begin.

Carl the dense one, who had just finished gym at Fitness First, began eating hungrily, eating five successive spoonfuls of plain rice.

That idiot was on one of those diets where they eat to bulk up.

The rest of us were on one of those diets where we eat to light up.

"Oh, my, god," Stanley said with his mouth full.

"Your Buah Keluark is better than my mum's," Stanley said sincerely for the second time.

Terry, who's one of those irritating straight men who ate a lot but never got fat, scooped extra rice in anticipation of the good meal.

Carl the dense one grinned at Terry encouragingly and shoved more plain rice in his mouth.

J ate quietly, and mindfully, to enjoy Nisa's spread.

Stanley, who was eating slowly so that he could talk, would soon want us to enjoy his spread.

"I was having sex the other day," he began with his favourite dinner topic.

Carl stopped chewing and looked around warily to assess the situation.

"And it was so bad that I feel the need to start a workshop for these 20-somethings to teach them how to give good blow jobs."

Carl, who was chewing yet another mouthful of plain rice, gagged.

J continued enjoying his meal, carefully pairing some belacan with the Buah Keluark.

Nisa and Terry, who have both heard about Stanley and his fey ways, looked amused.

"Now, as a favour to the host, the lovely Nonya Nisa," Stanley said as he put his cutlery down, "I shall impart to her - and maybe to you boys too, the art of blow jobs."

Terry let out a guffaw, tickled by Stanley's randomness.

J remained calm and continued putting, this time, achar and prawn crackers in his mouth.

Carl, who looked pale, put nothing in his mouth.

"Nisa," Stanley said.

"What do you know about blow jobs?"

Nisa, who has one thing in common with Mother Mary, said, "it's fellatio isn't it?"

"Yes. Half mark," said Stanley, Professor Penis.

"In years to come, our descendants will come to refer to tonight as the night of remarkable Oral History," Stanley said proudly.

Nisa was genuinely amused.

"Fellatio is what you tell your 2 year old," Stanley said.

"In my world, we call a spade a spade. It's suck dick."

Carl coughed and sputtered out half chewed rice.

For the next 10 minutes, Stanley was in his element, giving us the low down of blow jobs, paying particular attention to Nisa whom he hopes will benefit.

"The basics," Stanley said, "are that you do not use your teeth."

"Oh, I've heard that," Nisa said.

"Yes, hunny, that's 101."

Next, Stanley instructed the table to not give blow jobs like they're in a hurry to catch the last bus afterwards.

Go slow. The slower, the better.

"If you're sucking it so quickly like it's a melting ice-cream popsicle, then trust me, that thing will get smaller. If you suck it slowly, it'll do the opposite - it will get bigger," Stanley said like a sage.

J looked at me and winked cheekily, then continued to calmly carry on his dinner.

Carl looked like he could no longer eat.

Terry was enjoying this - he had always found gay men to be such true entertainers.

"Now, I'm getting to the interesting bits - things you would have never known," Stanley said like he was about to decode David Copperfield's greatest secrets, "unless you have done all your leg work. On your knees."

Terry laughed and slapped his hands on his thigh, obviously having a good time.

"For the person giving the blow job," Stanley looked pointedly at Nisa - and then glanced at Terry, adding "you listen up too. You never know when this might come in useful."

Terry giggled again but was slapped sharply on the shoulder by Nisa.

"Shhh," Nisa the diligent student said. "I'm listening."

"Always eat a mint before a blow job," Stanley said.

"This way, your man can feel the lingering coolness in your mouth."

Nisa nodded dutifully.

Carl nodded too, and began to snore.

"But that's not all - your lingering coolness will eventually go away.... so you should have prepared a cup of hot water and a glass of ice by the bedside," Stanley said.

"So first, you take a sip of hot water and keep it in your mouth, and then let his tool slip into that warmth."

Terry who was just about to drink his water changed his mind.

"And then, juxtapose the sensation with ice cubes."

Nisa looked like she had attained Nirvana, her eyes enlightened.

"It's like giving your partner's member an onsen experience," Stanley said proudly.

And then, turning to Terry, he said: "Here's a tip for you, buddy. When you are about to get your next blow job, wash your dick with listerine."

Terry paused, and looked at Stanley sideways as if to say What the Hell.

"Because when she takes it in, she'll be pleasantly surprised by the cool - and sweet - sensation of your member," Stanley said.

Terry nodded sagely, joining Nisa in Nirvana.

"And that," Stanley said picking up his cutlery, "is my contribution to society."

The rest of the dinner topic remained civil, and light hearted, with Stanley occasionally tweaking something innocent into a sex joke.

It was familiar territory - good food, good wine, good company, and uninhibited sex jokes.

By far, Nisa's farewell dinner for me was one of the best.

Forty-five minutes later, the six of us were so full we felt like we were about to give birth to Peranakan babies.

But no.

Nisa the hostess with the mostess would not let us go scot free without dessert.

She ushered the rest of us to her balcony and ordered Terry to light up the tea light candles and turn on the string of fairy lights made up of large, colourful balls.

As I joined Nisa in the kitchen - she scooping vanilla ice cream on her homemade brownies and me making cups of Nespresso coffee - I felt a very warm sense of love.

I put my head on Nisa's manly shoulders and said "I love you. I'm gonna miss this."

That night, the six of us had too much to eat, too much to drink, too much to laugh about.

Although the theme was Farewell Adam, no word of goodbye was uttered.

As Stanley had so wisely summed it up, "we're not here to say goodbye to you, bitch. It's just another gathering until we next see you."

"You had better make time and fly back to see your beloved circle," Stanley said, spreading both his arms to point at the group of us.

"Plus, it's not hard to do that," Stanley added.

"I always use a mirror and some yoga moves to see my beloved circle," he said, pointing to his own buttocks to illustrate the point.



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Adam's stories are based on real life events and inspired by real people