Sunday, January 09, 2005

Avarice Does Not Come A-Knocking

If there is one thing I am addicted to, it’s experience. It’s not sex, it’s not money, it could be people, but that’s inevitably a very necessary ingredient in order for experiences to formulate themselves. I think I am quite bored of the whole sex for money thing and have decided it's certainly not something I would like to do often. I've no problems with getting money for favours, but I will most certainly not go looking for it.

I went to watch the Aviator today with an old friend who has a huge ass business plan he’s trying to work out and hoping to make a lot of money from, and the girlfriends. The former and I couldn’t help but nudge each other through out the whole show and whisper. ‘man, if I were THAT rich…’

Left right after for drinks with Chris. I started feeling really frisky after a couple of glasses of wine, and a little tired too, and suggested going back to his place. He said he was really horny, even more then yesterday –I’ve some weird effect on him- but (and he was quite blunt with this, which I found amusing- he couldn’t afford the price I was asking two days in a row. I rolled my eyes, looked at him and told him to just forget about paying me.

‘I’m not a prostitute, I’ve already told you that like so many times. I don’t need the money and have no idea what I shall do with it aside from sticking it in the bank. The truth, come to think of it, is that what you’re willing to give me kinda makes me feel good about myself. Like, I’m really worth it, and you’ve really proven that to me. And it’s not especially in how much you’re willing to give for my time, but more so in the fact that you’ve made arrangements specially to come down to Singapore for me. Regardless of the sex or whatnot. And to hell with it, you’re good in bed, so why not. Let’s go back. I feel uncomfortable here,’

So we did go back, I took of all my clothes and slipped into a bathrobe, and we sat on the couch eating chocolate cake and talking about legitimized corruption. He started playing with my pussy, I got really horny and demanded that he fucked me. Yeah, perhaps I am somewhat of a nymphomaniac, I believed I would have left him for Martine’s bed, if the latter didn’t have a bunch scotch guzzling academics at his place reading god knows what, Kafka perhaps, and knocking down glasses upon glasses of single malt.

But then now, thinking about it, it is perhaps better that he was not free and I’d spent the time with Chris instead. I feel really good about it actually. I don’t quite think I like having sex for money, it actually disturbs me. The truth is, I was more relaxed with him today then I was yesterday, the sex was better, the cuddling, foreplay, everything, it was just better. I felt less need to please and was more concerned with myself, which made it more natural, and therefore much better.

I think he’s pretty good looking, has a lot to offer me in terms of other things (I won’t say what, but they are things I desire pretty badly) and is not ‘just saying it’ to get into my pants. And unlike Dr. Seuss, who is quite mediocre in bed, the sex is good, so it makes things a lot easier for me. Namely, I’m not expected to pretend so damn much, which is really the most tiring thing about sleeping with the latter. And I don’t quite know how to put it, but S is work. He’s fun to go to cocktail parties with, to have brunch with, maybe the occasional cigar (allright, he smokes, I don’t), and really pleasant to talk to. One of the most sexiest voices to have whisper into your ear. But to make love to? I’d say I’d rather stick with the bondage. That way I’m tied up and don’t have to do anything.

He sent me off in a cab thereafter, telling me that he’s made arrangements to come back into the country to see me before I leave the country with Ethan. And he stuck a bunch of bills into my hand, telling me to see myself safely home.

The way I see things, I’ve nothing to complain about, and what really soothes me is that Chris isn’t going about screwing a lot of women, he is surely clean- as far as all the nasty STDs are concerned- is surely not lying when he says he’s slept with less then 60 women (a lot less, according to him). Basically, he’s pleasant to be in bed with, good in bed, not dirty, treats me very well, and lavishes me quite a bit. And of course, as with all the people I even bother to spend more then an hour a day talking to, he is good conversation.

*shrugs*
It was allright. I am quite pleased with things.

xoxox

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