Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Sex Drive
"I don't think you have very high sex drive," Intense commented.
"Why do you say that?" I asked.
"I get the sense that you always get sought out by the guys first."
"But I do need to take accountability, don't I for the act to happen?"
"But you don't initiate it right?"
"Sometimes I do. But you are right. I don't have very high sex drive, I think.
When did you begin to suspect- after you met me or even when you are reading my blog?"
"Both but after I met you, it further confirms it..."
"You know I had a peep at your red painted toes when we first met. And when I unzip your dress to put that heat pack rub for you, I was getting so turned on!"
"Were you? If I noted a hard on, I would have been so embarrassed or I would just take flight!"
"Would you? Well, don't worry I could control myself better!"
"Oh good!"
"I do feel bad now thinking of you that way now that you are my friend. But you do turn me on!"
"But I have done nothing, have I?"
"Nope. It's just me and I know whey guys are turned on by you."
"Why?"
"It's just the way you are."
"But can you tell me if I have behaved in anyway to encourage it?"
"Not really, but I just want you."
"Crazy! But I don't want you."
"And you would never want me right?"
"No, I am just not sexually attracted to you. Or for most people, really."
"I am just not your type right?"
"Nope. Look you have your fetish for toes, I have mine. They happen to be older men or fat white men with power."
"What about OB (old boy)?"
"He was my friend."
"I am your friend too."
"Yup but he is my best friend. He knows my deep dark secrets."
"Like what?"
"They are my secrets. I am not telling you."
"That's why I enjoy being with him. I love him."
"OK. But I still want you. But I know not a chance."
"Yup, too right. Maybe in your fantasy, Intense!;)"
*****
Intense is right. I don't have much of a sex drive. I notice that so especially when I am emotionally stable, like now. In my manic state, I drown in sex and even then mostly, it was passion-less and lustless. I was like playing actress to my audience, which is the said partner I was copulating with.
In my mind, sex is sex. Fuck and chuck. Pump and dump. The Old Boy mentioned in one of our very first rendezvous that he got the feeling like I wanted to do it with him for the sake of sex, not because I had feelings for him. Maybe that was why he felt somewhat insecure and lacking in confidence, feeling the need to please me constantly. But with time, I did love him and more accepting of our carnal rhythm and we became more in sync.
But I do recall a time where I was so curious and excited about sex- mainly with DL in my youth- and what sex meant for me as a rite of passage to being grown up and all the naive, rosy ideas you have of being an adult and being your own woman.
Hopefully, I could find that again in my life because right now I feel like a whithering flower.
I am barely thirty.
"I don't think you have very high sex drive," Intense commented.
"Why do you say that?" I asked.
"I get the sense that you always get sought out by the guys first."
"But I do need to take accountability, don't I for the act to happen?"
"But you don't initiate it right?"
"Sometimes I do. But you are right. I don't have very high sex drive, I think.
When did you begin to suspect- after you met me or even when you are reading my blog?"
"Both but after I met you, it further confirms it..."
"You know I had a peep at your red painted toes when we first met. And when I unzip your dress to put that heat pack rub for you, I was getting so turned on!"
"Were you? If I noted a hard on, I would have been so embarrassed or I would just take flight!"
"Would you? Well, don't worry I could control myself better!"
"Oh good!"
"I do feel bad now thinking of you that way now that you are my friend. But you do turn me on!"
"But I have done nothing, have I?"
"Nope. It's just me and I know whey guys are turned on by you."
"Why?"
"It's just the way you are."
"But can you tell me if I have behaved in anyway to encourage it?"
"Not really, but I just want you."
"Crazy! But I don't want you."
"And you would never want me right?"
"No, I am just not sexually attracted to you. Or for most people, really."
"I am just not your type right?"
"Nope. Look you have your fetish for toes, I have mine. They happen to be older men or fat white men with power."
"What about OB (old boy)?"
"He was my friend."
"I am your friend too."
"Yup but he is my best friend. He knows my deep dark secrets."
"Like what?"
"They are my secrets. I am not telling you."
"That's why I enjoy being with him. I love him."
"OK. But I still want you. But I know not a chance."
"Yup, too right. Maybe in your fantasy, Intense!;)"
*****
Intense is right. I don't have much of a sex drive. I notice that so especially when I am emotionally stable, like now. In my manic state, I drown in sex and even then mostly, it was passion-less and lustless. I was like playing actress to my audience, which is the said partner I was copulating with.
In my mind, sex is sex. Fuck and chuck. Pump and dump. The Old Boy mentioned in one of our very first rendezvous that he got the feeling like I wanted to do it with him for the sake of sex, not because I had feelings for him. Maybe that was why he felt somewhat insecure and lacking in confidence, feeling the need to please me constantly. But with time, I did love him and more accepting of our carnal rhythm and we became more in sync.
But I do recall a time where I was so curious and excited about sex- mainly with DL in my youth- and what sex meant for me as a rite of passage to being grown up and all the naive, rosy ideas you have of being an adult and being your own woman.
Hopefully, I could find that again in my life because right now I feel like a whithering flower.
I am barely thirty.
Oh Boy! (not this one...)
When I was back home in Singapore in July, the Old Boy and I went to a pub after dinner at the country club to meet his old friends. A friend, Daddy from his old days in Melbourne some 20 plus years ago was in town. Daddy and the Old Boy used to hang out as a group (fellow Malaysians and Singaporeans) when they were at university. It was a time where the Old Boy was with his very first girlfriend whom he dated for five years.
Daddy’s entire family had migrated to Australia thirty years ago. His father had recently passed on and he was en route to Malaysia to sort out the will. Daddy is a wealthy businessman in Melbourne and had done really well for himself. The Old Boy had told me that Daddy is also involved in some money laundering.
The Old Boy had to be home before midnight so he took leave of the company. I wasn’t in the mood to go home and I was feeling sad that the Old Boy and I didn’t have any alone time at all. We were unexpectedly invited to dinner by his fellow squash players at the club and I wasn’t expecting company then either. Slowly, his other friends left and it was down to us two- Daddy and me.
Daddy and I chatted about everything under the sun (or rather, moon). He mentioned to me how he met his wife online. He was in his mid or late thirties at that stage and was pretty much resigned to fate that he wasn’t getting married. He went to Malaysia to meet her, got on well and then he proposed and within three months she was back in Australia, married to him. Then the kids came and he now has two young children-a boy and a girl. Picture perfect family.
I asked him how the Old Boy was like when they were in Melbourne. He told me about how the Old Boy had always been the quiet sort and that although the Old Boy was one of the richest in their group, he was always very humble about it. The Old Boy and Daddy lost touch for more than 10 years and then through mutual friends, they caught up a few years ago. They kept in touch infrequently since then.
As time went by and Daddy and I warmed up, he looked at my bare skin (I was wearing a thin spaghetti strapped jade green dress) and said, “You are very fair...” The way he looked at me made me uncomfortable.
In between, he topped up the whisky in my glass. Every so often, the waitress came to do the same. I had earlier befriended the 18-year old waitress with numerous tattoos on her back who accompanied me to the toilet (since it wasn’t a very safe area) and I whispered in her ear to top up more ice in my glass than whisky. Got you, she said.
Daddy told me that his father’s death had caused him to be really angry and he didn’t know why. He was thinking of getting away for a while to Bali just to relax. Good idea, I said. Maybe he should try meditation, I suggested further. Amidst the loud live music, he stroked my bare arm lightly (which gave me the creeps as I pulled away) and asked if I would like to join him in Bali...
Not long after, Daddy suggested that we should just get out of the pub and I did. “Stay,” the young waitress pleaded. I told her I would be alright and I was sure I would be back to see her soon.
We walked along the nice windy boulevard at past one in the morning. We found a bench next to the main road and we sat down to chat further. My antenna was up and I wasn’t about to go anywhere that wasn’t public.
Daddy didn’t try to be touchy feely after that, I don’t think. A few times he asked me if I felt he was a naughty boy or something, trying to allude to the “other” side of his personality. I told him straight up that I had no thoughts or opinions whatsoever of what he was like. We talked about our motivations in life regarding our work and we touched on some philosophical topics and each time, I felt inclined to suggest meditation to him since he sounded like a man filled with angst.
Then I decided I was tired and needed to get home to sleep. I flagged a cab and he suggested he would see me off in the same cab. He didn’t try to do anything further that night. The next day he was due to leave for Malaysia.
*******
The next morning whilst I was in my Dad’s office and chatting to the Old Boy online, I received an unfamiliar call. It was Daddy. He called to tell me excitedly how he had just gone to the temple with his mum and he asked for direction with the divinity lot to dispel his angst. He got a reading that suggested he meditate. He thought it was uncanny. Anyway, he seemed like he wanted to chat on the phone. I obliged for five to ten minutes but then since I would rather be chatting to the Old Boy, I wished him luck with everything in Malaysia and bid him farewell.
Initially, the Old Boy thought I was overly sensitive when I told him online how Daddy commented on my fair skin. “But you are really fair,” was Old Boy’s reply. Then the phone call came and I spoke to Daddy as I typed to the Old Boy. The Old Boy told me he didn’t get any farewell phone calls from Daddy. He began to think that Daddy’s behaviour towards me was strange.
Subsequently in the next few nights, I got sms texts from Malaysia. It was Daddy telling me that he was in Malaysia already. Let him know if I couldn’t sleep and he would ring me and chat with me. Blah, blah, blah....
I felt really uncomfortable and I told the Old Boy about him again.
Ignore him then, was his advice.
And ignore Daddy I did.
What an unwanted attraction, I thought.
I wonder what I have done to lead Daddy think about me that way.
My body language definitely wasn’t one to suggest I wanted him in any shape or form.
Oh Boy!
When I was back home in Singapore in July, the Old Boy and I went to a pub after dinner at the country club to meet his old friends. A friend, Daddy from his old days in Melbourne some 20 plus years ago was in town. Daddy and the Old Boy used to hang out as a group (fellow Malaysians and Singaporeans) when they were at university. It was a time where the Old Boy was with his very first girlfriend whom he dated for five years.
Daddy’s entire family had migrated to Australia thirty years ago. His father had recently passed on and he was en route to Malaysia to sort out the will. Daddy is a wealthy businessman in Melbourne and had done really well for himself. The Old Boy had told me that Daddy is also involved in some money laundering.
The Old Boy had to be home before midnight so he took leave of the company. I wasn’t in the mood to go home and I was feeling sad that the Old Boy and I didn’t have any alone time at all. We were unexpectedly invited to dinner by his fellow squash players at the club and I wasn’t expecting company then either. Slowly, his other friends left and it was down to us two- Daddy and me.
Daddy and I chatted about everything under the sun (or rather, moon). He mentioned to me how he met his wife online. He was in his mid or late thirties at that stage and was pretty much resigned to fate that he wasn’t getting married. He went to Malaysia to meet her, got on well and then he proposed and within three months she was back in Australia, married to him. Then the kids came and he now has two young children-a boy and a girl. Picture perfect family.
I asked him how the Old Boy was like when they were in Melbourne. He told me about how the Old Boy had always been the quiet sort and that although the Old Boy was one of the richest in their group, he was always very humble about it. The Old Boy and Daddy lost touch for more than 10 years and then through mutual friends, they caught up a few years ago. They kept in touch infrequently since then.
As time went by and Daddy and I warmed up, he looked at my bare skin (I was wearing a thin spaghetti strapped jade green dress) and said, “You are very fair...” The way he looked at me made me uncomfortable.
In between, he topped up the whisky in my glass. Every so often, the waitress came to do the same. I had earlier befriended the 18-year old waitress with numerous tattoos on her back who accompanied me to the toilet (since it wasn’t a very safe area) and I whispered in her ear to top up more ice in my glass than whisky. Got you, she said.
Daddy told me that his father’s death had caused him to be really angry and he didn’t know why. He was thinking of getting away for a while to Bali just to relax. Good idea, I said. Maybe he should try meditation, I suggested further. Amidst the loud live music, he stroked my bare arm lightly (which gave me the creeps as I pulled away) and asked if I would like to join him in Bali...
Not long after, Daddy suggested that we should just get out of the pub and I did. “Stay,” the young waitress pleaded. I told her I would be alright and I was sure I would be back to see her soon.
We walked along the nice windy boulevard at past one in the morning. We found a bench next to the main road and we sat down to chat further. My antenna was up and I wasn’t about to go anywhere that wasn’t public.
Daddy didn’t try to be touchy feely after that, I don’t think. A few times he asked me if I felt he was a naughty boy or something, trying to allude to the “other” side of his personality. I told him straight up that I had no thoughts or opinions whatsoever of what he was like. We talked about our motivations in life regarding our work and we touched on some philosophical topics and each time, I felt inclined to suggest meditation to him since he sounded like a man filled with angst.
Then I decided I was tired and needed to get home to sleep. I flagged a cab and he suggested he would see me off in the same cab. He didn’t try to do anything further that night. The next day he was due to leave for Malaysia.
*******
The next morning whilst I was in my Dad’s office and chatting to the Old Boy online, I received an unfamiliar call. It was Daddy. He called to tell me excitedly how he had just gone to the temple with his mum and he asked for direction with the divinity lot to dispel his angst. He got a reading that suggested he meditate. He thought it was uncanny. Anyway, he seemed like he wanted to chat on the phone. I obliged for five to ten minutes but then since I would rather be chatting to the Old Boy, I wished him luck with everything in Malaysia and bid him farewell.
Initially, the Old Boy thought I was overly sensitive when I told him online how Daddy commented on my fair skin. “But you are really fair,” was Old Boy’s reply. Then the phone call came and I spoke to Daddy as I typed to the Old Boy. The Old Boy told me he didn’t get any farewell phone calls from Daddy. He began to think that Daddy’s behaviour towards me was strange.
Subsequently in the next few nights, I got sms texts from Malaysia. It was Daddy telling me that he was in Malaysia already. Let him know if I couldn’t sleep and he would ring me and chat with me. Blah, blah, blah....
I felt really uncomfortable and I told the Old Boy about him again.
Ignore him then, was his advice.
And ignore Daddy I did.
What an unwanted attraction, I thought.
I wonder what I have done to lead Daddy think about me that way.
My body language definitely wasn’t one to suggest I wanted him in any shape or form.
Oh Boy!
Thursday, December 03, 2009
WTF
WTF! I just did a quick Facebook search on the Man (just thought of this person out of the blue)and one result returned.
I ddin't recognise that face but thought I should check out this person's friends. Guess what? I recognised some of the names.
That stranger is him! I have to stare hard enough to recognise semblances of him that I can recall from memory.
Now I must say all this being my own boss must be making me forgetful about my sordid past... or am I just getting old?;)
WTF! I just did a quick Facebook search on the Man (just thought of this person out of the blue)and one result returned.
I ddin't recognise that face but thought I should check out this person's friends. Guess what? I recognised some of the names.
That stranger is him! I have to stare hard enough to recognise semblances of him that I can recall from memory.
Now I must say all this being my own boss must be making me forgetful about my sordid past... or am I just getting old?;)
