HORNY

 

“No…not again!

 

Joaquin only felt a slight heat beneath his skin when he found out again the pair of swirling horns on his head. The strange protrusion got him in a complete panic as he stumbles across his bed with all his pillows and blankets roll all over the floor. He rushes at the comfort room, open the faucet and douse himself with insanely cold water while he is practically naked with only his boxer shorts on him.

 

The shiver that strikes like lightning down to his marrow is enough to make his flesh and brain shudder; completely shutting down the heat in his body and dissolving the images that nearly make him fall again to sinning.

 

How come he got arouse from just seeing a dancing group of girls donning a Sailor Fuku in a commercial? Their skirts are not even that short enough to have a peek at the color of their underwear!

"This is wrong...of all the people, why me?" It was the same sentiment he always utters every after his bouts with his unholy condition.

 

Lately, he is been struggling hard to not avoid anything that might trigger his horns to suddenly sprout without his volition. He even deleted his Instagram account just to avoid random girls in skimpy clothes jiggling and giggling with the latest dance craze that subtlety bent towards the titillating gestures and suggestive move. He is also thinking about going inactive in all of his other social media accounts just to avoid seeing any girl in viral videos or photos that might become the reason he suddenly gets horny.

 

Anything that will make him feel that unwanted heat and tightness on his pant are forever banned on his life; anything that makes his flesh weak against lust.

 

At the age of 30, Joaquin is by far a rare type of individual according to his peers and colleague. A pure-blooded virgin with a manic religious fervor which he acquired from being a part of an orthodox and strict provincial family where it traced its roots back in Cebu where people are equally steadfast about putting the teachings of the church forever embedded in their veins. Even when Joaquin is already in the big city where most people found liberal ideology and free-thinking appealing than the iron-clad dogmas of Christianity, he never had any second-thoughts in leaving the lessons from his childhood in those periods where he was part of every Summer Bible Study in their village.

 

Most particularly, the teachings of Sex as a sin.

 

During high school, he portrayed a typical straight-A student personality that made his teacher adored him while some who have a knack for bullying often labeled on him the title “Santo Joaquin” after finding out that he never watch any porn nor dig Hentai scans on the internet. His phone is immaculately “clean” and his PC is free from any sites that will make a nun go blushing and a priest fuming in anger. For more than a year, never did he erase his entire browser history which only shows how strong is his will against the urges of his testosterone-fueled phase.

 

But “Santo Joaquin” has found a secret that will turn his devotion to the indoctrination of sex as a despicable and unforgivable crime in the eye of the holy providence into a bit of madness sprinkled with a disturbing paranoia.

 

It only took a harmless noontime show with girls gyrating their hips to the tune of the latest KPOP hits as part of a dance number made him discover that instead of a halo suitable for a saint like he, the one that suddenly grows on his head is a pair of hardened keratin that inch their way from his skull until they jutted full-grown like that of a virile Ram.

 

He felt nothing at that moment except the fleeting sensation of filthy excitement that sparks a dirty fire within him; a fire that he will constantly doused by numerous means by a cold shower, listening to loud music or intense physical routines such as rapid push-ups and extremely fast jumping jacks to sweat out the fever and neutralize the itch without him scratching it using his left hand.

 

This begins his personal crusade against the impending horns that malignantly awaits to grow again on his head. His avoidance of anything sensual even for just a casual small talk was replaced with annoyance and anger. He started to shun his friends whom he found out hanging out with the ladies in nightclubs. His eyes are now teeming with raw hate whenever he saw someone revealing a bit more than a shirt or jeans can cover.

 

Joaquin even broke up with his long-time girlfriend out of suspicious that she is about to invite him for a game of snake in the cave when she visits her one day on his pad wearing denim shorts and crop top with a scarlet dyed hair in hope that Joaquin will lover her new looks.

 

After that, Santo Joaquin is slowly veering towards becoming the Mad Joaquin that becomes the daily topic of his co-workers who is getting displeased with his “holier than thou” image that masked his obvious misogynistic self.

 

But he can’t help it; Joaquin will do nothing but to stay true in becoming clean and pure. The paragon of sinless and lustless living. In virtue, a saint.

 

Yet the horns, he fears them. Those two pointy things will keep on reminding him whenever he looks into the mirror that never in the bible nor in other books describe holy men with horns

 

For horns are for the devils only. For the slave of the lust spit. For the souls who ache only for the pleasure of come and orgasm. His flesh is not weak; there is no doubt about it but why he has the very true symbol of obscenity right on top of his head? Why did these horns manage to sneak past his well-built defense against the attack of his hormones which he deemed as the unsolicited visit of cohorts of sex demons?

 

He never had the answer to these questions until one night, his “horny” problem for the first time was being exposed to someone other than the shadows on his walls and the figurine St. Michael on his room who always witness his transformation and yet never did it smite him like what he always does with the horned guy in that infamous liquor brand label sold for 50 pesos in any store.

 

Their manager invited all of them in the company to his posh penthouse to celebrate their month-long battle to seal a multi-million deal with the biggest  IT company in the country which could only mean a bigger salary and a bigger bonus to everyone.

 

Joaquin would love to refuse politely in joining the party but the manager himself invited him personally since he is a key player in sealing that deal; without his top-notch presentation, the IT company’s big boss will never be impressed and signed the dotted line that will take their meager company to great heights.

 

In the end, he found himself among his co-workers who are known to party like rockstars with liquors all over as if they are swimming in a sea of bottles of Vodka, Jacks, Whiskey, and Tequila while getting high with a casual puff of weed and glitchy trap beats from the reverberating stereo.

 

The penthouse just reeks of sin and pleasure that makes Joaquin and cower in the farthest corner with a glass of fruit juice on his hand.

 

“Alright! Let’s bring the main course down here!”

 

He thought they were talking about food since they only pica-pica for an hour but to his horror instead of a sumptuous meal to finally, feast upon, they bring a group young ladies on their 18s and 20s all in skimpy clothing to highlight their slender, hourglass-like figures.

 

But of course, it will be biased if the night will only for the boys, after the march of the ladies, what comes next is the batch of men with a chiseled body that made them look like a living statue of Greek gods but built to become a love machine in this modern period.

 

Their manager, to his dismay, is the one who brought these people whom he already senses will stir the sleeping horns on his head.

 

“I-I am a sorry boss, can I go home now? You see, I still have to work on reports about our last deal.”

 

“For God sake Joaquin! Tomorrow is the weekend! Give yourself a break and have a good old wanking!”

 

Joaquin received a playful spank from his boss on his rear. He is about to turn away without saying any goodbye but his co-worker takes his hand and grabbed towards the dancefloor where everyone is doing their best to flaunt their moves and see who among these people will be the one they will start with their hedonistic spree.

 

“We heard you are still a virgin, Joaqui. Tonight perhaps you can enjoy your first time..whaddya think?”

 

Joaquin was not listening to Nathan, the one who have this not-so-secret taste for morena among his colleague in their office. Instead, his eyes are all glued to the women with their hips swinging in dizzying motion, mouth agape in surrender to the unseen making love with the music, and eyes all closed to feel the unknown pleasure that taking over them on the dancefloor with Martinis already flooding their veins.

 

“Or perhaps…you are not into girls but maybe you are into…”

 

“NO! GET OFF ME! DAMN YOU! DAMN YOU ALL!!”

 

He felt it; the heavy protest on his head that banging his skull for the release. He flails his fist to free himself from his co-worker and runs as fast as he can towards the comfort room outside his manager’s penthouse.

 

Panting and soaked in the coldest sweat, he quickly went for the faucet but some devilry has gotten him now for no matter how many times he twists it, no water pours from it to cool him down.

 

“Come on! Not now..not now! You--”

 

The sound of the sleazy dance track reached the cold interior of the comfort room which serves as the invisible hand to pull the pointed protrusion on Joaquin’s head until they reach their full form.

 

In a second he sees him again bearing the face of the devil in the mirror.

 

“This can’t be happening…this can’t be happening..”

 

His muttering that slowly making its way to a scream was interrupted by a figure that suddenly appears from one of the closed cubicles. At that moment, Joaquin knew it was all over for him. His dirty, little secret is about to get spoiled by this lady with waist-length silky hair and set of eyes tinted in crimson from her contact lenses.

 

“Dear God! He gasped while covering his face in the most futile manner. He cowers like a deer caught in the headlights and about to get rammed to death by a 4x4 car when the lady suddenly moves towards and made the strangest gesture of all to him.

 

She kissed him while caressing the sharpest point of his horn with her candle-like finger and red-colored nails. This finger runs smoothly over his head after they take a pause and then the lady begins a much harder, and deeper kiss on his lips

 

Joaquin expects his first taste of a woman’s lips akin to licking sour, week-old sandwich packed with molds and other stuff of decay that will make his gut churn like a storm.

 

However, what she felt that moment when the red-eyes woman takes his lips was the exact antithesis; it’s a heavenly taste of honey and milk from the very springs of the Garden of Eden. The sweetness will never make you sick but rather you wanted to savor it for more seconds, minutes, hours. Perhaps a lifetime.

 

It was addicting but in a good way.

 

“Well, that settles it...Your cute little horns are all gone now.”

 

The amorous voice of the woman spellbinds Joaquin even if their lips are already parted. If chocolate and fire manage to create music, this is the sound of vocals that will melt your ears in bliss.

 

“Never knew I will found someone here in that condition. If I am still the kind of woman I used to be…maybe I will take you now as a new member of my harem. But I already paid my dues. I am not that woman anymore.”

 

“Are you not afraid of my horns? That I look like a devil?”

 

She responded with laughter that keeps Joaquin’s heart beating like a frenzied tribal drum during the ecstatic summoning of old gods.

 

“Joaquin Hernandez…let me get you straight. Having a horn will not make someone a devil. And more importantly, sensuality will don’t even make you at par with the lowest among the lowest imp in hell.”

 

The nameless woman touches Joaquin’s face and looks at his eyes as if they are peering through his soul.

 

“You are not a devil nor a saint. You are a human, Joaquin. Only human.”

 

Before she completely walks away from the comfort room, Joaquin abruptly gets up from the tiles and asked the one million questions.

 

“Who are you? What’s your name?”

 

“I am your forefather’s first wife. I am known by many names. But you can call me Lili.”

 

Joaquin stays at the comfort until dawn mouthing the name of the woman over and over again without noticing that his pants are drenched with piss and come. He only snapped back to reality when he heard his phone alarming.

 

After the fateful night, Joaquin never has to deal with his horns whenever he felt that urge again. He still gets awkward whenever it strikes him in the most inopportune time but he is managing well as compare with those times the horns were still in his head.

 

He starts asking his manager if there was someone that goes by the name of Lili from the group of ladies he brought in his penthouse but sadly, there was no one with that name. Joaquin was completely clueless as to how and why the lady was there even if she is not invited to their party.

 

But thanks to Lili, he slowly yet steadily realizes that he doesn't want to be a saint anymore nor a devil.

 

He only wanted to be a human and recognize not only the call of his spirit but also of his flesh.