It's been completely crazy the last couple of days. It's like, what can possibly happen in a couple of days, but a-lot can, (and as it should,) a great deal did. I met Lynn, the girl of this Honkie guy I used to like (the exception to my general indifference to the Asian male aesthetic). She'd called me up a month earlier asking if I could set her up with my photographer, and I'd sort of delayed it until we had a really good opportunity to do something together.
An acquaintance that presumed he knew me more then he did offered this villa he was house sitting, and I couldn't pass up on the private pool. It's no fun shooting in a house that big all by yourself, so I called Lynn up. The least of what's so great about her is that she's dependable, punctual, and no-nonsense. Too many models are all wishy-washy ('huh... too kinky leh' me: 'But you're the one that wanted to do it in the first place!') And it's especially irritating when you've already gotten the whole deal together, from the make-up to the studio to the photographer to yourself.
The best of what's so great about Lynn's that she's completely comfortable with herself, and that's something you don't get on every corner of the street. She's comfortable with herself, and a completely exhibitionist. Someone I've been looking for ever since Dee left. The other person I already know is my sister, but Tori's too young. Although she did throw a bad-ass underaged lesbian let's get high party last night. I think. All her parties are kinda gay anyway, courtesy of coming from an anti-male institution.
Lynn and myself spent most of yesterday prancing around the villa in a semi-dressed state, and the guy that loaned it to us presumed that I should be so kind as to want to give him a hand-job. I told him it didn't bother me if he'd like to jerk off in front of me and come into the sink. I didn't have a problem with that, it wasn't my sink; as long as he didn't touch me, I frankly didn't give a shit. In fact, it could have been amusing to watch someone come. It's normally amusing for me anyway, whoever the person is.
I told Richard about it, and he pointed out that the people who read my blog could very well transfer a false sense of friendship onto me as a person. Which is completely bullshit, because I'm not very much like the person on my blog as I am in real life.
Here, I sound more mentally unstable, completely promiscuous, and occasionally a little rude. I'm actually very mentally stable, not as promiscuous as you'd presume -I'm extremely selective, it's taken awhile to develop a sort of fuck-off I'm not sexually attracted to you attitude, but i've managed- and I'm mostly not rude. I really do try my best to empathize with people who I find difficult to tolerate. It's never 'they're obnoxious' or 'they're presumptuous' or whatever. It's always, 'maybe they're not having it so good in the female department at the moment' or 'they're just insecure' or whatever.
Anyway, the guy who loaned us the villa generally presumed that since Lynn and I seemed so comfortable with being in a constant state of nudity, and that we liked making out with each other in front of the camera and whatever; he presumed that something like a hand job couldn't be too much to ask. I mean, after all, we were kinda sexually emancipated, so it shouldn't be a problem. That, along with all the stuff I've written in this blog. The crazy sexual exploits, fucking in underground car parks, getting Alice licked at ever red light, whatever. Funny thing with him and some of the people like him I've met is that they never factor in the fact that perhaps I just wasn't attracted. And like I told Lynn, it was no use to come up with any other excuse. They'd be arguing about why it was alright to give someone else a hand job even though you've a boyfriend, or even though he was dating your best friend, or whatever. You just have to say you're not attracted, period.
***
Richard and I have decided to slowly liberate this country from it's sickening conservatism by showing people that having fun was easy, and they should do what they want when they want. As long as it's not really actively harassing anyone else.
We figured that if we kept on having sex in as many public places as possible, without getting caught, we'd eventually get there. And more people should have sex in public places. I'm not talking about bathrooms and hidden bar back-streets. I'm talking by the Singapore river at 10 at night, for a long time, taking mental notes of the way people reacted (generally, they stare for a long time, give me a look that said, 'poor girl, the guy's not even bothering to take her home. She must be so drunk' and then walk past really quickly like they didn't see anything when they get really close to us). Or bridges right out by the main road with the bar-tender looking on. Be nice and give him a big wave after that for being such a willing participant...!
I cannot believe it, but we did it. Quarter to midnight, and were right outside the al-fresco area of a bar doing the dirty. There was this whole bunch of bushes that kinda obscured us of course, and no more then 4 people must have seen, despite it being very public (believe me when I say it was just by the main road. And it was a big sort of main road). It was just too incredible. Now if more people started thinking it was alright, then maybe we'd reach a stage of liberalization faster then we thought we could, and man, sex is always such an integral part of any country's culture; the more liberalized, the more vibrant. Think Sydney, San Francisco, London, bla, bla.
Time to spend the morning with Richard. It's just lovely to wake up with someone you're still in disbelief knowing that you love.
Does that make sense?
xoxox
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