Lovely way to start the day...

Was woken up this morning by a text message on the phone that went off at 7am, and just as I was about to rant about who the heck would be sending messages that early, as it turned out, it was lovely Sue, a very pretty twenty-something Thai PR consultant I'd hooked up with (and latter shagged) one evening at the Movers & Shakers event in Bangkok two weeks back. 

She'd texted to say she would be heading out to meet a client at some office near my condo, and wondering if she could swing by for "morning coffee", as she puts it. Apparently she loves the Nespressos I'd brought over from SG, and I thought yeah, why the hell not: would be nice to see her again too, especially since I thought it would probably be a ONS affair after that one time.

So after that, I roused myself from bed,  took a shower, and at about 8.15, the security concierge called to inform me I had a guest at the lobby. 

...and to cut the long story short, she came up to the apartment, and soon as she was through, she started peeling off her blouse and skirt -- sexy thong and a pretty bra with those shiny little jewellery, and needless to say, I needn't any further invite to get started.

She apologised for not having shaved her pussy, not that I mind, really, and to show I didn't, I went down on her and gobbled her up as she pushed herself up against the dining table. Her fingers dug into my shoulders as I took mouthfuls of her, sucking and licking away happily, and then because I'd done such a good job, she led me by the hand to the couch, laid me down, and started stroking, licking and sucking on my cock and massaging my balls as she went about with her "magical" blowjob.

And to top it all off: 

Yes, she did earn her Nespresso after that, and she left by 9 so she could be on time for her 9.30 meeting. 

Lovely morning quickie, I must say, and not before she asked if we could do dinner Friday at her place... nice one. :)

Addicted by choice.

I've become somewhat convinced that if ever I were to end up in purgatory for perpetuity, my personal hell would probably be one where I'm chained to a bed and forced to have sex with horny nymphos till my dick falls off; then come the morning I grow a new penis and the whole hell starts all over again. 

Such is probably the karmic retribution for my life of debauchery. 

But I have to confess: I am addicted to sex. I suppose in the bigger scheme of things, it's probably a lot better than being addicted to, say, crack cocaine.

And if you're wondering where the hell I've been, I've actually been a good boy lately trying to get the new business up to speed in a new territory, and now that it's up, I'm back to my little lusty games again. 

***

I need a new PA. I had the last one for just 3 months, and while she was a lot of fun to be with (not just in bed, but as in her personality), I find her lack of grammatical sense somewhat daunting, and why have an assistant only to end up having to edit all her work all over again?

So much as I enjoyed having Tikky for company (you gotta love Thai names), it has come to a point where I really have to find someone who can be of genuine help at work. 

I'm based out of Bangkok these days, and a fair bit of travelling involved, so my PA's really got to take my travelling schedule. There's a lot of paperwork, and I mean really, A LOT, and probably end up having to work long hours too, but then again, these days, that's become a bit of a norm, isn't it?

This time, I'd love to have a nice European girl for a PA. Brunette or blonde, it doesn't matter, but European, who's able to speak and write good English...and come to work in stiletto heels, short skirts, cotton blouses and have that typical porn-actress look that makes me wonder what she's wearing under it all every day. That way, I'd really have every motivation to want to go to work everyday, and relish every little moment taking in her scent, thinking of what she'd look like naked...

...and undress her to enjoy every inch of her gorgeous body.

  

Right, okay. If I went down that route, I'd probably never get any work done, in reality.

But I'd so love to have a PA like that...and the thing is part of the job these days involves jetting off to some other city in Shanghai or Hong Kong, or Singapore; or heading out to some exotic golf/diving destination...for real.

Any takers? Applications are open. :)

"I'll be surprisingly good for you..."

The first time La Femme stayed over at my place some many years ago, we were watching Evita while cuddling up on the couch, and things just happened from there as this song was playing. Somehow the lyrics seemed to resonate with what we were doing, and as she whispered "I'll be surprisingly good for you", it marked the start of our relationship.

Revisited Evita again the other day, and as this song came on, same thing again.

I'm Juan Peron to her Eva.


 

The promotion.

One of the senior managers in the marketing arm was given a 24-hour notice and asked to leave the workplace due to a very serious breach in company protocols that "compromised his integrity", according to the email that was circulated to the management team.

 

While I don't usually dig about scandals like this, my guess is, in plain vanilla English, the guy probably committed some form of fraud, and the company chose to let him go instead of escalating the thing into a police case.

 

In any case, someone had to be moved up to take over, and the powers that may be in C-suite decided who else but Liz, given her "wealth of experience and proven track record within the Company."

 

I'm not overly concerned, because I really don't need a deputy anyway, and in terms of hierarchy, she's still technically subordinate to me. It only means our office liaisons would now entail either of us walking across from one end of the building to the other, since her new department would be located in another corner opposite from mine.

 

 

And not that I doubt Liz's capabilities too: she's a driven and ambitious woman who's street-smart and knows how to work her way up; only in this case, I kinda suspect she probably had her way by sleeping with one of the C's, to be very honest.

 

It's an open secret that the Chief Marketing Officer has a thing for Liz, and she had indulged in his little attempts at getting to her by having lunch with him on a number of  occasions-- and they're often extended lunch breaks, from my observations.

 

I suppose in the end, it's all about power and he who had the larger rubber stamp wins; I'm 2 steps away from being a C myself, but until that time comes, I suppose I don't yet wield the kind of authority and power that some women would find sexy enough to want to sleep with to get to the top.

 

In any case, I wouldn't be surprised too if the promotion would mark the end of Liz's affair with me. Not that it would be any great loss to me, except I probably now have to find a new toy to have fun with at the office in those long night hours.

 

...which brings to the point that while I don't feel the need to have a deputy (Liz has had a good time sitting pretty since I took over, really), it's still a vacant post, and I need to find someone to take over.

 

I now have 2 potential candidates: one, a young brilliant chap (male) with first-class honors in aviation engineering who would make a damn good deputy because I could probably push the job to him and spend my time socializing with the other senior executives and build even stronger networks and extending my base; problem is, Engineer dude probably wants my job too, and one of the unwritten laws of power is never to have a deputy who would someone appear to be more brilliant than you are.

 

The second is a no-brainer: a pretty twenty-something Australian girl we dubbed "Sunshine Girl" because she was always smiling and chirpy (her tits are chirpy too) who would be the target of Liz's outbursts simply because she was her assistant, and more to do with the fact that Liz probably felt Sunshine Girl was a threat being younger and more attractive than she was.

 

The problem with Sunshine Girl is that she isn't ready, in my opinion, to take on strategic management responsibilities, and she can be quite ditzy at times when it comes to the really big and important assignments.

 

Which makes the need for her to stay back longer at work with her Vice-President perfectly justifiable, given I probably have to work with her on a lot of things, not to mention work "on" her.

 

I was deliberating over this with a friend while having drinks last night, and his opinion: screw Engineer Dude, and take Sunshine Girl as the deputy. That way, I'd have twice the fun at work (assuming Liz and I haven't broke it off yet) without worrying about a power-hungry and ambitious deputy trying to out-do me and present himself as my replacement.

 

To be honest, I'm inclined to think that way too, but at the same time, from a practical perspective, I don't want to spend too much time having to pick up the bits where Sunshine Girl would screw up, and she would, believe me.

 

Some of you would probably find my post disturbing, but that's the reality that happens in the workplace. There was a controversial study in 2012 that suggested that women who flirt at work are more likely to succeed, although the flipside to it would be this would make them appear more untrustworthy than women who don't; controversial, because it's definitely sexist, yet I tend to think there are major degrees of truth to it-- Liz is a very clear example.

 

 



As for Engineer Dude, well, being the brilliant chap he is, I don't think he would have any problems finding his own place any time soon.

"I'm a honey-pot"....

Her: This merlot tastes good, don't you think? Goes well with the steak.

Me: Yes...but I can think of something else that tastes so much sweeter...

Her: Really? Like what?

Me: (leans over to whisper in her ear) Your pussy juices.

Her: (laughing, pushing me off) Naughty! But how exactly do I taste?

Me: ...like ambrosia...elixir of the gods. Like honey...

Her: I'm a honey-pot then, am I not? I mean, I get wet so easily...

Me: Yes. And I can't wait to have a taste of you again, baby.

...15 minutes later, backseat of the car, I hiked her legs up, pull off her panties, and took in mouthfuls of her honey.

Mmm. So lovely.

Birthday pressies and such.

It was Izzy's birthday today, and my present for her was a brand new Samsung Galaxy S4-- her iPhone had been faulty for a while, and she had been thinking of getting a new phone. 

We were out at the yacht club where we had breakfast, and thereafter we boarded the yacht I'd chartered for the day. It wasn't like I'd intended it to be anything romantic or such; more of a means to have some privacy of our own for obvious reasons.

It'd been a cruise to the Southern Islands, and she'd spent most of the time dressed in the new bikini she bought. The crew guys were checking her out, and I don't blame them: Izzy's a beautiful young woman, and in a sense, the inner egomaniac in me was smirking in the knowledge that while the other guys on board found her attractive, I was the only one who'd get to fuck her.

And we did have sex quite a lot today. I suppose the presence of a crew meant we had to keep things down to plain vanilla sex with not much of the usual little kinky games, but it was still good, really.

**

It was after lunch, and after I'd presented the phone when she'd come and leaned up against me, her head resting on my shoulders as I kissed her softly on her neck when I heard her, in between her soft sighs, saying she'd decided to break up with the banker boyfriend.

She'd found him too "young" for her liking: he was the same age as she was, but of late, she'd realised she preferred older guys-- guys my age.

I didn't know if that was her way of telling me she was wishing there was something more between us, but this being her birthday, I didn't want to spoil her day and instead let her make-believe that this afternoon's time spent on the yacht was what could have been if we were indeed taking things seriously.

In any case, to me, it was one thing to have a no-strings attached FWB thing going on with a much younger woman like Izzy; serious relationships, on the other hand, would be something else altogether, and I do wonder if I would be able to keep up with the stuff the Millenial generation are in to. 

Anyway, it was a relatively nice afternoon out. I was supposed to meet Bru for dinner, but got a little tired and postponed the date.

I'd probably take the day off tomorrow.  

Be my sub.

Since Fifty Shades hit the scene, I’m pretty sure every guy out there wants to be a Christian Grey, and I guess women out there are looking for their own Grey-some adventures.

That, I deduced from what Izzy shared with me, and it appears some dude at the uni tried to coax her into becoming his own Anastasia Steele.

Except he doesn’t know of course she already has her own secret lover. Yet somehow, there was something fascinating and strangely erotic hearing her talk about how the other guy tried to charm her into becoming his latest conquest—especially if the revelation came as part of the tete-a-tete following our own tryst in bed.

Admittedly, she’d locked lips with him, and the dude had his hands up her skirt and rubbing at her most intimate parts. She’d gotten wet, and he’d probably had his way with her if not for the very anti-climatic moment of her phone going off, and banker-boyfriend was on the phone to ask if she’d been a good girl studying for her exams.

I found it all intriguing, yet such a huge turn-on at the same time: she was making out with another guy behind her boyfriend’s back, and afterward, being aroused but having pushed the guy away, she came to yours truly, and we had raw sex for both our pleasure.

There’s a little sense of jealousy I admit because she’s such a beautiful thing to have and to fuck, but nothing too serious, because we have our own little arrangements without her getting too sticky to me. I guess I’m just the easiest part of the whole picture, really, and I do enjoy the benefits that come along with it, even if just for a brief moment.

Meanwhile, I have in turn recently re-learnt just how nice it is to be a sub in my relationship with cougar-babe Bru. It’s all become a vicious cycle of kinky gratuitous sex, role-play, discreet affairs and marshmallow saccharine cuddling with the women I’m with all rolled into one, yet strangely there’s nothing complicated at all to the whole thing. I can’t explain it, really, but all I know is that there’s probably still room for some more, knowing me.

There are after all many more hours in a week than just fifty shades of one colour. *grins*

Afternoon at home.

I called in sick today-- rather ridiculous, since technically speaking there wasn't a need for me to at all given I run my own gig-- but in any case, given I was supposedly sick, I thought I'd take the chance to give Izzy a call and see if she'd come over to my place and take care of me. *grins*

And so she did, and you can pretty much guess how the rest of the afternoon went. She took care of me very well indeed, her in her sexy crotchless panties and no top. She was especially horny today, and I wonder if it's due to us making out on the same bed she knew I'd fuck J in-- somehow that turned her on a lot, and she ended up being every bit the slut I'd hope she'd be: deliciously wet cunt I didn't want to stop licking and tasting.

I came in her mouth, and again inside her for the two rounds we had sex (never one for us both), and she wouldn't stop kissing me as we showered together...and had round three in the shower. 

The young little lover's really getting inside my head a lot, I have to admit.

***

Izzy's into mixed martial arts training these days, and she was hoping I'd teach her given I do a lot of MMA myself. I obviously wouldn't say no to that, and I was thinking I might start her off on ground work in Brazilian jiujitsu like so:

...really nice, yeah?

"Do you tire of this?"

I finally met up with Bru after all the little misses we'd been having. Ten minutes over coffee was all it took for us both to realise the "magic was still there", as she always puts it, and we headed over to my sexy Italian lover's home less than 20 minutes' drive away and get right down to things.

Bru loved it when I went down on her and took my time to tease and lick at her clit; with her, it was more about me giving her oral pleasure than the other way around-- not that I'm complaining. I love getting mouthfuls of her nice juicy pussy while my hands work on her glorious full breasts complete with large perky nipples: she's just absolutely lovely to be with.

She did treat me to a nice blowjob taking my cock into that mouth of hers and being oh-so-generous with her tongue licking away at my balls and sucking hard on my rod, her beautiful dark hazel eyes looking right at me as she took mouthfuls of my manhood.

And then, the main course: entering Bru was just magnificent after all this while, and I almost forgot just how good it felt to be inside her, moulding her breasts as I thrust away at her wet juicy cunt, hearing her moans and sighs as she rocked in unison to my thrusts.

***

In our little after-sex moment where we both lit up fags and sat naked on her little patio-- she didn't care about prying eyes, not Bru-- she was stroking my still-hard cock and me lightly brushing against her pussy, admiring her beauty despite her 42 years of age. She was still a tight-bodied hot momma despite everything, and she is a stunningly beautiful woman. 

She suddenly turned and asked, "Do you tire of all this?"

I asked her what she meant, and she replied she was just curious if I ever got bored of going around with 'random women' after all these years.

Well truth is: I'm not. I do get bored blogging about my flings and sexcapades though, and I am convinced all the other so-called sex/erotic bloggers do get likewise, and sex blogs are more a come-and-go kind of thing. I should know: I must have at least 4 or 5 blog versions of my little black book that I've started and ended, took long hiatuses, and then come back again-- and I have no idea if this one will keep up too. 

From the looks of things, judging from the other blogs that have closed down for some reason or another, I suspect I'm right: it's hard to sustain and continue writing about your sexual adventures if your blog happens to be entirely about sex; I mean, what happens when you hit a dry spell?

And if you're someone like me, well, much as I enjoy writing and expressing myself, I do find it a burden sometimes to give updates...but enough about blogging already.

It turned out there wasn't any particular reason why Bru happened to ask me that (so she claimed). It was something about a married woman trying to understand my point of view on things-- something like that-- or in any case, it was probably just idle chatter after sex, if you know what I mean.

Anyway, as it turned out, we started making a new arrangement to this new twist to our little affair (more fuck buddy-ish now) seeing that Bru's husband is now travelling less even though her kid's started school. It probably wouldn't be as regular as what we used to have, but it'll do given her contraints and mine.

Office flings

A lady friend asked me the other night if she should consider having a fling with a “cute and hunky” young intern at her workplace—this, while we were dressing up after our own little session in her bedroom. 

“I’m hurt”, I mused. “We just had sex, and you’re already thinking of another man’s penis.” 

“Oh really. You, jealous?” she teased in return, her hand stroking my cock that was getting hard to her touch once more. And she tried to appease my mock anger by finishing up with a lovely blowjob and taking the load in her mouth. 

Satisfied once more, I went back to her question of fucking the new guy at work. 

Simple answer is “Yes, go ahead and fuck him”—but I did warn her that she had to be very clear from the onset that it would be just a fling even before she starts dropping her panties for him; too many office affairs turned ugly simply because one of the parties start getting obsessive, and these days, it’s surprisingly the guys who seem to have problems letting go. 

In other words, she had to be prepared to be break-up ready, so to speak, and there was a possibility once the thrill of the sex had fizzled off, she might even have to sit the boy down and tell him literally that it’s all over, and thanks for the great time. 

The reason why I think she had to make things that clear from the start is because people seem so fucking dumb these days, and we have to explain everything to these millennial types. In the past, a simple “it’s not you, it’s me” would suffice; today, it’s all about trying to be 10 separate degrees of sensitive just in case you hurt the person really bad. Yes, that includes the guys even, bloody marshmallows, those. 

I was curious as to why she would be interested in a guy who was a good 7-8 years younger than she was anyway—like, would he even be any good? 

She then went on about how “delicious-looking” he was, with his hunky young bod and babyface looks blah blah blah. Then seeing my somewhat amused look (one eyebrow raised, teeth clenching tongue), she laughed and went “oh baby, don’t get me wrong—you’re cute too—it’s just that, well, it’s like you when you see a sweet young thing and find her irresistible.” 

Silly her. Of course I understand: I didn’t mean if he was any good physically; no, instead, I thought women went beyond just physical attraction and needed to connect at numerous other levels (isn’t that what you women always say?) but apparently it wasn’t so: she didn’t care if the guy, fresh out of school, probably couldn’t hold a decent conversation with her intelligently (by her reckoning, not mine); or the fact that she was technically a superior at work— in this instance, it was just about her wanting to have the guy literally ram his hard cock inside her for as long as he could last, and it was really just about the sex. 

Okay, I admit: I’m old-school alpha male, so it would bring out a tinge of jealousy in me to know if one of the women I was fucking was about to be—or already is—fucking another guy, regardless of the fact that they were supposed to be no-strings attached arrangements. You’d think I would only get jealous if another guy tried to hit on J, but admittedly, I do feel the need to compete when it came to the other women as well. 

All that aside, I wasn’t discouraging her—if anything, I was teaching her how to go about with having an office fling; as if she needed teaching anyway. 

I suppose she did enjoy our little mental sparring sessions that seemed to amuse and turn her on: when we’re like that, she keeps coming back for seconds, and how many times that night have we ended up trying to put our clothes back on, only to try to rip them off each other with much gusto and passion—she getting more and more like a slut who kept wanting me to fuck her dirty each round, me feeling the need to assert my ‘dominance’ and reprove my manhood and virility now that she brought another guy into the picture by the mere mention of it, and my response was to rock her harder as if I wanted to ravish her with every little passing minute. 

It did feel like my cock was being beaten to a pulp with all the hard pumping, and at the end of it all, when we both finally let the exhaustion take over and say “no more”, she was blaming me for the fact that she could hardly close her legs...literally. 

It was savage and raw, yes, and I guess it’s the kind of reaction to expect when you bring out the competitiveness in your partner during sex. Either that, or me and her are just two kinky weirdoes who truly deserve each other. 

But I’m not talking emotions here: like how I’d advised her to lay the cards out right from the beginning and let hunky Kent-doll know she wants him just for the sex, so too had I spelt it out from the first time we had sex almost a year ago that we were just two friends who “happened to fuck each other” every now and then, and that she wouldn’t be—and wasn’t—the only one I do that to. 

In any case, the conclusion was that she may just try to seduce the guy for one time, maybe two, but it wouldn’t be a long-term affair for sure: he wasn’t her type for anything beyond a quick roll, and the whole thing by her reckoning shouldn’t last anything longer than 2 weeks, MEANING TO SAY that after that, when she’s had all her fun, I could expect to have her talk about how she wants to fuck another guy all over again, if only to get me all hyped up to give her “a good one”. 

Or maybe the next time would be me talking to her about me fucking Bru or Izzy and see how she’d respond in turn...or perhaps it could be about me with some random stranger I got to know too, we’ll never know.

Lunch date

Youngling Izzy caught up with me a lot quicker than I’d expected. The thing about full-time university students is that they probably have a lot of free time, and it’s no wonder then that she’d call me as soon as her morning classes had ended. 

“Let’s have lunch”, she chirped happily, and so we did: picked her up from the uni, and we headed down town. 

And while I was driving, naughty Izzy slided one hand over, unzipped my pants, reached in and started playing with my already-hard rod, her thumb rubbing on the head of my cock, and before long, it was wet with anticipation. She tried giving me a blowjob, but isn’t easy to do so given the structure of the car (with a covered axle running right between us). 

By the time we reached our destination, I was having a bulge in my pants and she beamed like a kid who’d just scored top grades or something. She held my hand and as we made our way out from the car in the parking lot, she placed my hand under her short cotton skirt where I felt the naked skin of her bum and that tiny string of her thong between her cheeks. 

We were supposed to be having lunch, but instead we found ourselves in a handicapped toilet and I was reaching up her skirt, pulling her thong off as she giggled and took her top off, her perky nipples just teasing to be sucked. And being in the small confines of that cubicle meant she clung on close to me as I entered her tight pussy and with every thrust a soft moan or sigh right next to my ear; the scent of her sweet perfume heightened every little sensation of our little tryst. I came inside her, and she was kissing me constantly as we cleaned up. 

We walked out of the toilet, thinking no one would have seen us, and the coast was clear, actually—or so we thought: some Indian worker walked past us, and he would’ve seen the two of us coming out from the toilet. 

No matter, I’m sure it wouldn’t come to much, and he probably understands when he sees a guy and a pretty sweet young thing in a situation like that, draw his own conclusions. 

Lunch was a pretty simple affair, and half the time I got irritated by the loud chatter around us thanks to the large lunchtime crowd, and I made a mental note never to head down to lunch in a place where I’d have to compete for space with these corporate minions. 

As we went back to the car, she turned to me and went “oh shucks, you do realise the boyfriend works in the area right?” and then laughed. 

“Well, just say I’m someone you’re interviewing for your thesis or something”, I grinned. So we drove back to the uni, and she headed back to her hall as she was supposed to have netball practice in the afternoon. 

Honestly, it was quite a weird feeling having to pick her up to and from school, since it felt like a Lolita experience or sorts. 

Then again, Izzy’s 21, a legal adult by every definition, and in addition to that, it didn’t matter if she was headed back to the uni for extra-curricular activities (the decent kind) or shagging some other undergrad dude—we both know it’s a purely no-strings, fun-only arrangement. 

Right, got to go, picking up J and we’re headed for a short weekend getaway tomorrow morning.

Start to the new year.

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Games we play.

I guess it's only human that even among fuck-buddies where the gratification is nothing but gratuitous sex, some degree of emotional attachments may develop. 

For me, the problem begins when that slight degree of attachment comes along with some emotional dependence where she starts trying to find out whatever it is I am doing at any one point in time, or wanting to spend more of my available personal time-- getting "sticky", so to speak, and that's where I start worrying about her getting too close for comfort.

I think for me, the rules of the game is pretty simple: I would probably give a fuck (no pun intended) about the women I flirt and sleep with, as in lending a listening ear or helping to solve a problem or two, but getting into a full-blown committal relationship is not my cup of tea.

Probably that's why I prefer to have my affairs and flings with married women: we both know what's in it for us, and there's none of that expectation of commitments and such other than having fun and enjoying each other's company while we spend time together.

It's all part of the little games we play, and I'm not sorry for being the way I am, whatever you guys out there may think.

***
Pretty laid back and quiet weekend this week, and I've deliberately and consciously chose to spend the last weekend of the year thus. I need to recharge, so to speak, although there is a dinner date tonight I'm still contemplating on. We'll just see how it goes.