Men & Egos, Part 2.

What makes you think you're better than me?

I shit you not, but that's what one dude wrote me via email, which inevitably led me to think the answer simply as: because you just admitted it yourself, dumb-ass.

Come on, you just gave the egomaniac beast in me a chance to right-hook you across the chin there, buddy. 

In most social situations, it'd been awfully inappropriate for me to say thus, but given we don't know each other, and highly unlikely you and I would ever be in a position to get acquainted under such circumstances, I think I'm entitled to say:

And for the record, it isn't that I think I'm better than just you... I probably think that of just about every other guy I see on the streets, and probably in boardrooms too. If you were a woman, I'd bother to be nice and court you for obvious reasons...double that if you're a gorgeous beautiful woman; but when it comes to dealing with men, however, I'm in constant "I don't give a shit who you are" mode. 

***

Probably that sort of thinking makes some women hate my guts, I'll admit -- particularly attached ones who interest me. But in this city where a man's worth is measured in very material terms mostly, I just play by the very expectations and norms that defines the disease that makes one agree that greed is good: if you hate me for being the obnoxious arrogant prick I am, then in all likelihood I probably have a way to intrigue you likewise enough to seduce you, all in the same instance. After close to 2 decades in the game, I think I know just what the hell I'm talking about and just said.

I move quick, and when I do, I slice like a hammer.
- Willy Banks, Ocean's Thirteen.

That song.

Was working out in the gym this morning when the radio played Eternal Flame by The Bangles. It's been ages since I last heard that song, and an ex-girlfriend in junior college used to call it "our song"-- we'd met at the end-of-orientation camp dance, and I'd mustered enough courage to go up to her and asked for a dance to that same song, and after that night, it was the start of a on-off adolescent relationship.

 

When you're barely 18 years old and in to your first relationship, you can probably expect things to be rocky, I think. Granted, it was romantic at times, but most times, there were squabbles over the pettiest of things; and I sometimes wonder if I'd become adverse to getting too serious and too committed in relationships because of that one experience.

 

The most memorable thing, I think, about that particular relationship was how I'd spent close to 2 months doing up a scrapbook filled with love poems, songs, pictures and sketches I drew myself for her birthday, and that was while we were preparing for the GCE "A" Level examinations. We'd been in a relationship over 2 years by then, and it all ended in the second year of my national service, about a month before my officer's commissioning parade. We got to invite family and loved ones to that parade, and while my parents were there, in place of the ex, I got a distant cousin to go along whom I sort of hooked up with on a rebound following the breakup.

 

Odd thing is that during those 2-3 years when I dated JC Ex, we never had sex-- we did engage in some really heavy petting sessions ("she let me finger her pussy!"), but my first sexual encounter wasn't with her, but with an older woman, an adjunct lecturer in school 5 years older than I was, and we had sex in one of the squash courts one evening when she was supposed to tutor me for the A level exams. I suppose that's where I started getting interested in married and available MILFs.

 

Anyway, I bumped into JC Ex one time some years back, and seriously, I was surprised to see the pretty prom queen so many guys tried to date had become chubby over the years, and nothing much to say about her grooming. Not trying to be nasty, but there you have it. She's married to an equally porky dude who kept eyeballing me from head to toe in that brief encounter, and for a second or two, an evil thought had crossed my mind and I wondered if I should say something along the lines of "Don't worry dude, she's all yours."

 

But I left it at that; say hello, did the how-are-yous, and left. So much for Eternal Flame.

 

***

La Femme is back from her trip, and after I'd picked her from the airport, and while she was in the shower, I texted Liz to tell her there might be some changes to our schedule; I get the feeling Liz wasn't really pleased, but she said no problems, cause she would be dating the other guy as well. Not sure if it was jealousy, but I did feel a tinge of uneasiness when she texted that.

 

La Femme had been packed off to London for almost a month by her company, and I was amused by how she'd run up to me (literally) soon as she saw me at the airport and again, literally jumped on me for a big hug and kisses like a small girl. When she started unpacking at home, I saw she'd been busy shopping much as she was working: a new Hermes Birkin that many women would envy, 2 new pairs of Manolo Blahniks, a dress from Red Valentino, and as usual, presents for me: a scarf from Burberry (not that I really needed one in this stupid tropical heat), and some shirts from Ted Baker. She's an expensive woman, really, but whatever rocks her world.

 

...which leads me to wonder why is it that women go all the way halfway across the globe to get stuff they could easily get back home in Singapore; I mean, the price differences aren't really that fantastic, and you factor in the marginal costs involved in the travelling and such, you may as well be patient and wait for another season then walk into the boutique at MBS or ION; and seeing how the shops here probably know her, she could probably get them to order and bring in particular pieces she fancied off the website-- and she's done it before too, so she would know.

 

With La Femme, it's almost like a totally different world we live in: rich daddy's girl who went to the top schools, have the looks and the brains, and is on the fast track career-wise, and in a hurry to get ahead of the pack; in terms of personality, she's a little like me, only I wasn't born with a silver spoon in my mouth. In her mind, she is the sort who despises women like Paris Hilton, but probably thinks she's a Carrie Bradshaw; needless to say, she's expecting her man to be like a Big, and it's no wonder her relationship track record is so similar to Carrie's.

 

Lifestyle-wise, with her, it's all about material comfort and indulgence; and honestly, I see nothing wrong in the way we live our lives-- we're both indulging in things we can afford to, even though to some, it may come across as extravagant.

 

Over the years, I've come to appreciate the relationship we've had over the years, and it's always nice to have a woman who can give a good debate on things especially in a business sense, though I have to admit there are times when I wish I'd gone for a simpler woman who would shut up to let her man win his side of the argument.

 

I sometimes find it hard to define the kind of relationship I'm in with her, and honestly, I've given up explaining to my parents and hers about just what sort of "arrangement" we're in: to both sets of parents, they're wondering why the hell we don't just get married and have kids in the way people normally do, especially given we've been living together for so long. La Femme lists her status on Facebook as "married", but in actual fact, we're not: we've broken up on and off, she's moved in and moved out a couple of times, we're in love, then we're not; and in the end we just agreed she should stop watching Sex and the City because she's becoming too much of a Carrie.

 

But at least in the past 5 years, we've reached some sort of stability, probably because of her frequent work trips to Europe and New York. Which is probably just as well, because I realize relationships-wise, I don't like to be too tied down and suffocated with her being around me all the time.

 

And of course, the sex is great between us. I guess that's one thing people fail to realize, that a healthy sexual relationship is what cements two people together, and when all's said and done, we're just that primal. Some people ask if she's aware of me sleeping with other women, and if I think she's sleeping with other guys; I think it's come to a stage where, gauging from both our sex drives, the answers are clear, even though I suspect I'm probably more guilty of doing it more often than she does.

 

Somehow when La Femme's around, I devote more of my time for her, and she becomes a priority. Hence, Liz, Yam, the MILF and any other women I'd taken a fancy to would have to wait. It's sort of like a rule I'd set and gotten used to.

 

And it sure was nice to snuggle up next to her naked body last night after all this while.

 

The (much) younger woman.

I met up with my close friend Mike this afternoon while we were checking out the Corals at Keppel Bay show units, and he shared he was dating a woman who's 18 years his junior-- that's "dating", as in trying to develop a serious long-term relationship-- and four months in, he's starting to wonder if it'd ever work out.

See, the difference is that with Izzy and me, regardless of the fact I'm a lot older than she is, the whole basis of the relationship is purely sexual, and we both know it wouldn't lead to anything more, even though we do have a lot of fun together. We both know I'm not going to replace her yuppie boyfriend, and she knows end of the day, I'd go back to J...some day, all this is going to end, in other words.

In Mike's case, however, he's hoping to find better luck and another shot at love again that could lead to a second marriage (he got divorced two years earlier), but I do have to admit I was wondering if he'd set himself up for failure with his new muse. Yes, he did seem happy, and I'm pretty sure he could make her very happy too with all the material comforts he'd be able to provide as the older and more established half in the relationship-- thing is, I found his attempt at trying to look young in the way he dressed a little pathetic. 

Then he went on to talk about the things she got him to do just for thrills and fun, like going camping with her friends and "ghost-hunting" at the deserted old Changi Hospital, among other less outrageous things e.g. paint-ball, ultimate frisbee at Sentosa beach every weekend, clubbing (again)

It's not that he minded doing these things with her, and I don't see anything wrong either: but what really got to him was hanging out with her friends and trying to get involved in their conversations, and expecting to know what the hell's going on. On his part, Mike couldn't find anything in common to talk about to them, and sure, they could learn a couple of financial tips from the guy, but he didn't think they'd be interested to talk about the market the way he and his "grown up" pals did.

And of late, they'd been fighting a bit too, especially when she said she felt they'd been hanging around with each other too often, and that she needed time away from him with her friends. He got really pissed when she took off for Bangkok three weekends ago without informing him until she'd landed-- and even more pissed to know she was in the Thai capital with two other guy friends. 

I told Mike he'd be a total jackass to be jealous about the Bangkok trip-- in my opinion, no need to get all worked up over the 2 guys: young poppycocks, and no, I didn't think she slept with either of them; even if she did, so what, Mike's old enough to understand these things.

But instead, my friend seemed to have dived in too deep with this young girl, and it seemed to drive him all edgy and such. I did suggest to him to do as she said, lay off a bit on the whole thing, and just go about with his own life, i.e. go meet other women as well; deep inside though, I get the feeling the whole relationship will just blow over soon enough.

Enough of that: neither of us were really interested in the Corals project, but me and J were really thinking of getting another property for investment. We'd be heading to Bangkok in 2 weeks to check out some properties there, and already J's done some pre-Bangkok trip shopping of her own getting new clothes for the trip.

Sometimes, I don't really understand the things women do myself. 

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.

Of toned bodies and such...

I don't deliberately work out just so to impress the ladies; I admit the gym is one place I've scored with some really classy and dishy ones, but definitely not the only reason why I spend hours training and  toning up.

I've been doing a lot more running, long distance cycling and lifting heavier weights since I've gone back to playing rugby and a new-found interest in triathlons. I'm a far cry from the really lean tri-athlete types, but I think the trainings been paying off rather well: I'm running longer distances and I seem to get more energetic.

And of course, the compliments from the ladies: J thinks I'm a lot more toned these days; Brunetta, the Italian expat wife I had a little tryst with but hadn't seen for months till last week, is now showing a renewed interest and she wants to "do lunch" once I'm back Monday.

Certainly flattering, and I don't think I was imagining it when I caught sight of a few tanned and toned ladies giving me a second look and smiles at the hotel pool, so I guess the hard work's paying off a lot more than I bargained for.

You'd think that in my daily job, it's a cardinal sin if you gained extra pounds so much so you looked tardy in your work clothes-- impressions are everything, no-- but the truth is that once you've been caught up in daily operations, it's easy to just let things slide and you become a fatty bom-bom before you knew it.

At least that's one thing I've managed to avoid, even at my age when I'm supposedly having a slower metabolic rate and such. 

Would be nice to catch up with Bru again *wink wink*; and meanwhile, Izzy's a little jealous I'm spending my Bintan weekend with J while she's stuck in Singapore with the prospect of boyfriend working over the weekend and me having a good time with my other woman.

"I'll make you pay", Izzy had texted, complete with a smiley. I hope she meant it. ;)

Looks like it's gonna be a 'busy' week ahead once I'm back, but for now, it's just about J and me.

New Year's Eve 2012.

La Femme got back from her business trip to Shanghai this afternoon. We'd missed spending Christmas together as a result of the trip and me not being able to fly up to meet her because of work commitments. At least we're able to spend the last day of 2012 together, and she was all smiles and literally ran up to me like an excited little girl when I went to pick her up at the airport. She's usually shy and somewhat conservative when it came to public displays of affection, but today at the airport, she didn't hesitate to  hug me close and kiss me on the lips in the arrival hall. 

We drove back to the condo, and once home, our clothes were messy trail all the way to the bedroom where she'd been extremely horny and kept wanting seconds. We'd spent the rest of the late afternoon naked in bed until we both started to get hungry, then we showered, had a change of clothes and headed out to Waku Ghin at MBS for dinner. 

She'd gotten me a Hublot watch as a Christmas present while on her business trip, and I've yet to get her present because I'd initially promised to get her anything she fancied once she was back. I've given up getting her wallets and such a long time ago because she's got more than enough stuff from her favourite brands in the wardrobe; these days, it was better to take her shopping and let her pick her own gift: less romantic, I know, but at least she'd be getting something she could have a use for (or at least I'd like to think)

There's La Femme for you: if she's spoiled and indulges in luxury, it's only because she'd grown up around a comfortable lifestyle-- not to mention an ex who, being the scion of some Indonesian tycoon family, could afford to pamper her in every way money could possibly buy. Compared to her ex, I'm probably a very mild poison, but to be fair, she's never demanded anything, nor is there any pressure for me to try to measure up financially (I can't, not in this lifetime, to be honest).

But we do live quite a comfortable lifestyle, and we're happy in each other's company, and I guess that's what matters most. While the both of us are not adolescents who live on love, over the years, I've certainly grown to appreciate her companionship a lot more than when we started off; and after her divorce and my bitter break-up in the last "serious" relationship, I guess we both know better than to set unrealistic expectations, or unattainable promises to each other. For some reason, I'm starting to think that for all the flings I may have/had, La Femme's the only woman who can have a real hold on me simply because she doesn't try to own me. 

In any case, we'd be able to spend the next couple of weeks together before it's my turn to fly out for a convention in the States...it's the last moments of 2012, and frankly, it's nice to have La Femme around as always on New Year's Eve.

Happy 2013, all. 

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. 

"It's complicated..."

What men should know: when her Facebook social network status says "It's complicated", it means just that-- she's probably in a relationship, but equally it's one of the following:

a. She's still exploring her options, having fun,  and doesn't want to get tied down;

b. She's in a relationship with a guy who doesn't want to get tied down (he's having all the fun); or

c. She's in a relationship that is potentially breaking up, and most probably a third party is involved.

But do take note: she didn't say she'd go out there and fuck every other guy that comes her way, so don't be mistaken this necessarily makes her an easy target for flirting or seduction-- it could well be the other way where she's just too tired of making things even more complicated than it already is by introducing yet another character into the picture.

It's quite amazing how we've come from straight-forward relationship status where you're either single, married, or divorced. Then there's the "open relationship"-- another misnomer because while it conjures up the idea that she's open to meeting new people, again it doesn't necessarily mean she's a promiscuous one out looking for sex.

I suppose it's all part of how we've evolved from being a somewhat sexually-repressed society into one that's more cosmopolitan and liberal. We're all free to pursue whatever relationship arrangements we could possibly think of, and that's the beauty of things, in my opinion.

Come to think of it, why bother with relationship statuses anyway? Can't we just make do with "companionship" and get on with whatever makes you both happy, from romantic coupling to casual friends-with-benefits/fuck-buddy arrangements?

***

I am feeling a little sorry I'd chosen to walk away from a rather promising open friends-with-benefits option recently, but at the same time, I am a little apprehensive of a potentially sticky relationship where she starts to get a little too emotionally dependent and attached apart from the physicality of things.

Oh well.