Little Ironies.

Who would have thought that my relocation out of Singapore to where I currently am would only serve to remind me of the Baroness, and make me wish she was the one here with me instead of La Femme. 

It's a little odd, really, because leaving SG was in a sense a logical way to try to be something different; a shot at a little stability in life, trying to be a one-woman man perhaps, and it did seem like it'd work for a while...only briefly, before my mind started to drift off and start wondering if it'd work a lot better had I decided to be here with the Baroness instead, and living the lifestyle she and I used to talk about, instead of having to learn about all the other adventures she'd been having with her latest dubbed "fifty shades"...I thought I'd be over the Baroness after all these years, but apparently I was mistaken.

Anyway, like I said, it does begin to seem like my initial plans had taken a turn otherwise. Will blog again soon.

Back, but not with a vengence.

Well, months later on, I realised I can't stop writing completely. 

Some updates:

(1) Left the previous company and my "cushy"well paying job, and I'm working on my own ventures in both Singapore and Thailand, meaning I shuttle between Singapore and Bangkok a lot these days.

(2) Still meeting up with the ladies (obviously), given a leopard can't change its spots. Only after I'd left the company, Liz and I split up, and the ladies in my life these days are more come and gos...though I'd still very much prefer longer-term FBs.

(3) I guess I'd still be blogging, only not as regularly as I used to. But I'd still be around. :)

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.

Golfing & thoughts.

And in addition to business meetings and such, I've been playing a rather lot of golf lately. Nice to see I still have a mean swing after close to 3 years of not playing a single game, and apparently, I'm still playing my old 12 handicap pretty okay. So I realised I'm not PGA material, but at least I don't end up looking like a duck swinging a club...and I'm happy. 

Incidentally, all that golf means I'm a lot more tanned these days, all thanks to our tropical sun; and not to mention one session in Abu Dhabi. 

I hit some really great ones that day.

***

Separate note, I really just can't understand how some guys are happily and openly inviting other men to have a go at their girlfriends. I mean, if I've been called a bastard by the flings that didn't turn out the way the ladies in question wanted them to go, then what on earth would you call men who put up nude photos of the women in their lives with clear facial shots and go "come join us and fuck my wife/girlfriend"?

Okay, so people pretty much choose the ways they want to live their lifestyles, and whatever rocks their world that sort of thing; but if you asked me, I'd very much prefer keeping the good stuff to myself, or if she was the sort who wants to be adventuresome and meet other guys, then I'd prefer not advertising about it on her behalf. 

Meaning to say she can pretty much go do whatever she pleases, but I'm not going to run a "come fuck my woman" campaign. Some things are just distasteful to me.

***

For some reason, I find myself reading quite a bit again too, despite my busy schedule. I'm wondering if it's anything to do with a young one who's been writing me and sharing insights about books and her life, but interestingly, since she reads and has been asking about what's good, I find myself finding time to read again-- sometime I used to enjoy doing, but stopped when things at the old workplace got a little too hectic. Ironic that these days, I'm actually a lot busier, but I find more time to indulge in literary pleasures. Maybe I'm trying to impress her with stuff I read and such, nerdy as it makes me sound.

Then again, I suppose I am a geek, given how much of a bookworm I was back in school, and I had no qualms finishing off novels whilst going through my reading list for A Level English Literature back in the day...so what's packing that one paperback on my business flights these days?

“I don't have a philosophy as such. Maybe a guiding principle, Carnegie's A man who acquires the ability to take full possession of his own mind may take possessionof anything else to which he is justly entitled.' I'm very singular, driven. I like control... of myself and those around me.”  - E.L. James, 50 Shades of Grey.

Men & egos.

So the lady I met at the dinner last evening thought I was a bit of an "egotist" and a typical "Singaporean MCP"-- both accusations I don't even attempt to deny. Ordinarily, I wouldn't take offense at anyone making such observations, and in her case, given what a hot number she's got on her last evening, a pair of luscious lips that are simply inviting for a kiss, and eyes that seem to look right through me, I suppose however big an MCP she may think I am, I could just let the comments pass.

Especially when the comments are nothing in relation to what I'm like as a lover or companion, but more to do with business, since it was more of a social/business networking thing. I used to dread attending such functions, but these days, given the scale of projects I'm getting myself into, I need all the help I can get, and if I have to put on the old monkey suit and spend the evening talking to old farts who nevertheless have access to a world of funds, so be it.

But she isn't an old fart, and her tete-a-tete with me-- more to do with her trying to sound as tough as she could in a world of wolves and lions, all of whom are probably figuring who amongst them would get a chance to shag her-- proved to be quite a respite from stuffy conversations with hedge fund managers and such. They smoked too much anyway.

The irony as I found out is that while she thinks I'm a bit of an egotist and MCP, I chanced upon a conversation she had with a mutual acquaintance...and that was where, to my (very pleasant) surprise, it turns out, she reads this very blog that I'm sure smacks of my arrogance and egoism as well!

I didn't mean to overhear her that time, seriously, because all I wanted was to grab another stem of martini and gin, and I heard the words "Secret Casanova blog..."

Sure, there could be many more secret Casanova blogs out there, but the coincidences...she's been following my previous blogs from 2005, even though I've changed the addresses a number of time. 

In any case, here's the test: you know who you are, and if you're reading these words, here's the egotistic MCP in the dark jacket who told you the problem these days with women is that they're all trying too hard to outdo the men...and believe it or not, I'm the joker whose writing you've been reading all this while. 

Ponderings

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Weekend entry

You know, there's something about this Charis Goh girl that's got me intrigued. Not sure how she ended up being connected to me on Facebook, but I gather she's some kind of lingerie model...and a young single mother. 

Definitely a beautiful young MILF that I'd love to indulge and pamper. Maybe I should try hooking up with her and see what goes.

***

Separate note, the company organised a cocktail party last night. I brought La Femme to the party, therefore officially introducing my live-in partner to the rest of the guys at the office; in a pretty unusual move, my Chief Executive, who's known to be quite a bit of a playboy himself, pulled me one side while we were having smokes on the open-air balcony, offered me a cigar, then pumped me on the shoulder like we're old chumps and said, "Good spotting there, my friend."

We talked for a while, and CEO caught me off-guard when he said "So, you still going out with Liz then?"

Bloody hell, nothing ever escapes the top man?

But in truth, Liz and I are still very much going out together -- and that means having an affair and sleeping with each other, in simple English -- and while she wasn't at the party last night because she had to take care of her kids, just this morning, I met her for breakfast, and a little extra-curricular at her place after I'd dropped her off. 

And as for Sunshine Girl, well...let's say we're getting somewhere with all the closeness of working long nights. She'd toasted La Femme at the party last night like some nice hostess, but one brief moment when we'd found ourselves together -- La Femme excusing herself to the ladies, and Sunshine Girl's boy going off to get some drinks from the counter-- she'd had one hand on my arm, and I found one hand soothing the small of her back, and moving down towards her tight ass...and kissed her on the side of her neck before someone walked past, and we parted ourselves from each other. One night last week, we'd been working late, and we found ourselves frenching and hands exploring before she decided the office "wasn't safe" given there were others working late as well.

So things at work are still interesting.

***

Ah Charis, Charis...where to find you? And I'd love to run my hands over that sexy body of yours. :D

The new girl at the office.

 

 

1. Slinky figure-hugging dress with high-heels; so much so I can see the outline of her G-string when she walks in front of me.

 

2. Sultry come-fuck-me look with pouty lips just begging to be kissed.

 

3. Delicious scent of Lolita Lempicka perfume.

 

4. Did a couple of lip-licks while she was seated opposite me at the meeting today.

 

5. Nice swell of perky tits against the sheer fabric of said figure-hugging dress.

 

Enough reasons to warrant me taking her out to dinner tonight. *grins*

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.

On alpha-males, and such.

The team was out having drinks after work on a Friday, and while Liz had thought the guys would probably find the whole thing a chore because their boss had instructed for it to happen, in the end, the evening turned out pretty well, and I think the males managed to bond pretty good-- not sure about the women though, because they probably find Liz's presence a little overwhelming.

 

The thing about men is that after a while, once everyone understood the pecking order at work, all things fall into place, and I suppose it's all about showing you're the alpha male in the pack and why you deserve to be the leader.

 

With women, a whole set of other factors come into play, and I kinda thing between me and Liz, she probably has a harder time winning the support of the ladies in the office than I would with both the males and the females.

 

So anyway, by the time the initial round of drinks were done, people started opening up, and before long, the guys were sharing about almost everything under the sun. I guess it helps too, that for Singaporean males, there was always the convenient topic of national service that brings an immediate common bond in conversations.

 

I tried not to pay too much attention to Liz as we'd agreed never to act intimately in front of the other colleagues even though the two of us had a thing for making out in the office after work hours; still, there were little moments when we would find ourselves wandering off to some corner under the pretext of smoke breaks where we'd hold hands, hug and kiss...only to separate when we noticed someone coming up to join us.

 

One instance, one of our male subordinates came up and joined the smoking session, and I noticed the way he'd been looking at Liz on a number of occasions and guessed he was attracted to her. As soon as he came up, she excused herself and went over to chat with the other guys (totally ignoring the ladies), and the dude was still watching her as he lit up his cigarette.

 

"She's quite a woman, don't you think", I asked as I took a drag.

 

The guy nodded, then after some casual chat about other irrelevant things, he shared that he'd tried to ask Liz out on a number of occasions, only to be turned down.

 

"It's probably to do with the fact that I'm younger, and more junior", he lamented.

 

***

I guess deep inside every self-confessional alpha male is an elitist prick who takes a Machiavellian delight knowing he's outdone every other male in the room in one thing or another.

 

In the case of my subordinate sharing about his attraction to my deputy/his boss/my lover, and sensing the frustration of his thoughts of probably wanting to fuck her but couldn't, the inner devil was just screaming to say "That's why I'm your boss and fucking the woman you desire...and try harder."

 

Of course, it isn't about fucking women-- a bona fide alpha male goes only for the best in life, and is it any wonder then that the guys in power suits would almost certainly go for established car marques, dining at the nicest places in town, or going for luxury comfort on vacations? I've yet to meet an alpha who goes by without advertising his position and dominance, and I suppose everything factored in, it's no wonder then that we exude the kind of self-confidence and arrogant charm that many women are attracted to.

 

It doesn't help too, that La Femme is herself one of those power-suited women, the equal of the alpha in me; I guess that's why I may come across as having what one of my female subordinates called an "overbearing dominance presence".

 

My own observations are that women are generally attracted to men in power positions at work. Sure, there's always a chance for the meek and the sensitive new-age guys, but more often than not, throw the aggressive alpha into the picture, and SNAG's girlfriend ends up getting seduced by bad-ass alpha.

 

And the thing is: you don't get to be a true-blue alpha male until you get somewhere at near or at the top of the chain of command.

 

I started my career in the military, and in my opinion, that's where you learn about the natural pecking order of things and power politicking early on; as a young officer, I had to learn how to stroke the egos of colonels and generals, while establishing my own base with the specialists and other ranks. When I left the military, I was holding the rank of a major -- the prized middle-rank where you have a considerable amount of power and authority, yet far away from the firing squad when it comes to accountability, and we always joked that majors have more fun than any other rank in the army.

 

Anyway, I suppose the military experience forms the basis of my somewhat cocky attitude; but I think I balance that pretty well with ensuring I know what I'm doing at work, so much so I can safely say I do a pretty darn good job better than my subordinates would, and one way I established this very quickly was giving practical suggestions to solve problems. My guys now perceive their leader is able to come up with ideas to help them do their jobs better, and that's how I managed to build rapport at work in a short amount of time.

 

After yesterday, I guess the men would also realize that once out of the workplace, their leader was someone who'd throw all the problems at work aside, and go for the finer things of the moment; and since we were in a pub, the finer things would refer obviously to attractive women in the room.

 

I sense some of them would have probably guessed there was something going on between me and Liz, and it sort of puts a half-smile on my face knowing it's not just that one guy who came up to me and openly confessed his attraction to Liz, but probably most of the guys at work fantasize about having sex with her-- I already mentioned her penchant for going about braless under her work-blouses sometimes, and it's hard for guys not to notice these things and wish they could see more of her hot sexy body, taste and have her.

 

...And that's where I'd say "try harder, boys."

 

The snob in me says you're just a wannabe trying too hard...

Erotic smut doesn't quite work...

There is a distinct difference, in my opinion, between artistic erotica and plain pornographic smut.

 

To me, this is artistic expression:

 

 

That's where you use the lens in a study of lighting and contrast, and notice in this particular case how the sharp contrast of the nude figure seems to bring out an almost 3-D effect, as though she's floating right in front of your screen.

 

This, on the other hand, is just plain vulgar smut:

 

 

And granted, it's a well-taken picture, but it belongs in the realm of porn that dirty old men bring into toilet stalls to wank to.

 

I feel sorry for that young model in the latter photo: whatever the photographer said to convince her to pose thus, honey, that picture does little to elevate your portfolio but relegates you to the level of cheap sluts for hire, sorry.

 

Increasingly, it appears as though there are a number of amateur photographers who are little more than lusty men in sheep's clothing who call up young female models for "artistic nude photography" sessions, and more often than not, they end up taking photos that really have little artistic expression value, and the photos turn out to be nothing more than additions to the said dirty old men's toilet-stall masturbation tools.

 

There's this girl I know who said she left halfway through a photography session when she was asked to insert weird objects into her pussy; she already had her doubts when the "photographer" wanted to do close-ups of her spreading her legs, and the final straw was when he unzipped his pants and asked if she would be ok if he let his dick hang loose while he shot away.

 

Seems to me like he's just using a prolonged photography shoot to time his little antics, with the eventual aim of fucking her out of convenience. Unfortunately, I don't think he's an Austin Powers, and even then, it's a totally passé trick to try to get women in bed. In fact, I don't even think it works.

 

But whatever rocks for these amateurs (both the photographers and models); I'm just thinking the girls should be a little more educated before they take on such assignments, and learn to differentiate between a bona fide pro and a sleazy amateur just out for easy sex.

 

***

Called La Femme last night and asked her what she thought of a Mercedes E250. She thinks it's an attractive car, but she also thinks the current Italian stallion I'm driving is sexy enough.

 

And hearing her voice on the phone, I can't help but miss having her right next to me.

 

A new car?

Thinking of switching cars again, and I'm quite tempted to get the 2014 Mercedes Benz E250 coupe.

I'm wondering if it's a sexy enough car to impress the ladies...although I probably won't go for red if I do decide on the change. 

I actually went down to the showroom today to check out the E250 coupe (the 2013 version) and went for a test-drive with my MILF-y deputy Liz. She seemed impressed somewhat, and even though she's still of the opinion only middle-aged towkay uncles drove Mercedes, the E250 coupe seemed to sit well with her.

My other option would be an Audi A5 Cabrio, but honestly I'm not a big fan of soft-top convertibles.

I would have loved to try making out with Liz as part of the test-drive, but I doubt they'd allow it. I noticed the car salesman stealing looks at Liz, and I wonder if he'd spotted that she was bra-less as usual under her jacket and blouse, but in any case, it was just as well given he pretty much kept quiet throughout, so I could concentrate on the drive.

***

We got back to the office, and not before we made love in the backseat of my current car...and she decidedly left her panties behind. :)

Today's little romp had been a really close one, because just as we were dressing up (Liz sans her panties), one of the building's security guards happened to walk past the car, and lucky for us he didn't look in, because Liz was just done zipping her skirt back up with her breasts exposed with her blouse unbuttoned, and I was still struggling to do up my pants in the backseat; she quickly crouched back under the seat, and then we both laughed at just how comical we must have looked in that moment of panic.

And the guy was either deaf, or he was oblivious to his surroundings because I'd left the engine running.

We were both still laughing when we finally got out of the car and made our way to the usual smoking spot at the multi-storey carpark. She wasn't laughing any more when I reached one hand under her skirt and stroked at her bare-naked shaven pussy and fingered her.

I could really get used to this arrangement with my deputy/lover... but only when it comes to no-strings attached sex; I've already mentioned she's quite the bitch at work, and she seemed to have taken a delight at tormenting this cute new intern we just hired. Jealous perhaps, that her boss would take a fancy to the sweet young thing? ;)

***

I don't usually troll posts on other sites, but I must say this photo of sexy local model Olivia Ang on Singapore Hall of Shame caught my attention:

Now why can't I have an intern who looks just like that: that's a lovely pussy I would savour slowly all day...and I bet it would taste oh so good; even better if she comes in my mouth as I lick and suck at that beautiful yummy cunt.

How to hook up with Olivia, I wonder... *grins*

Speaking of brunettes and blondes...

Dinner last night was a mostly social affair with no hidden agendas, even though I'd arranged to meet up with hot Italian momma Bru and a friend of hers (blondie, very tight and fit looking Aussie lady) whom she'd gotten to know from bringing her kids to soccer practice. Soccer moms-- one a regular fuck-buddy, the other potentially a lay-- what more could I possibly ask for? *grins*

 

So anyway, we met up at Arossa Grill and Wine Bar at Scott's Square, and along the way, the casual chatter had become an exchange of mommy tips between the brunette and the blond, and that's where I started to get a little bored.

 

But I didn't take my eyes off blondie Kym, and I thought she looked a little like a Nichole Kidman lookalike (no joke), albeit a little more tanned from the tropical sun, with freckles on her face that in a way made her look kinda cute, really. She caught sight of me looking at her as she spoke to Bru, who was probably aware but pretended to be oblivious that I may have taken an interest in her friend; once or twice, Kym had looked back at me, did the hair flip thing, and she was crossing and un-crossing her legs--one point she had liked her lips while looking right at me, followed by a wry smile: classic flirting signals.

 

The opportunity came when Bru had to get up to go pick up a call, and that was where Kym looked at me as I sipped a glass of wine and smiled at her. She asked about what I did, and I found out she was working freelance as a graphic designer, but mostly she was a housewife who took care of a six-year-old and a three-year-old toddler at home. Her husband Greg was an aviation engineer who often worked long hours-- touch point one: mostly absent husband of a pretty wife, worthwhile considering to invest a little more time on Kym.

 

As we spoke, I was looking right into her eyes, and I imagined what it would be like to have her naked right next to me: tanned skin, nice perky tits, shaven blond pussy...and in my mind, we were already rolling on the bed having hot passionate sex. If only I could telepathically communicate these thoughts with her!

 

We did manage to exchange numbers on the pretext that she was interested in taking up yoga instructor certification classes, and a friend of mine had a studio that did just that: told her I could hook them up, and maybe she might want me to drive her down to the studio if she wants to check it out.

 

She took up the offer, and punctuated that with another lip-lick: and I'm thinking I probably piqued her interest. We made a tentative date where she said she'd find time later this week to head down to the studio, and I conveniently threw in coffee, and she laughed and said "sure, why not?"

 

And that's where I thought I felt the brush of her leg against mine, and it lingered for a while moving gingerly up and down, and as I looked at pretty Kym, the glimpse of her cleavage through her spaghetti tank-top, I wanted so much to just grab her, pull her jeans off and reveal what I pictured to be her clad in a G-string and just do whatever I so love to do with her...

 

...and that's about when Bru came back, and we were back to talking about trivial stuff before we called it a night, given both ladies had to be home for their "curfew" on a Sunday night.

 

Kym was going to meet her husband at nearby ION, and I drove Bru home. I suppose she had been a little jealous I was giving a lot more attention to Kym, and she started stroking my thigh as I drove, moving her hand gingerly over my groin, and she just kept at it.

 

She didn't ask anything about Kym. When we reached her place, she turned and kissed me, her hand unzipping and moving into my jeans to massage my cock and my balls. I undid the buttons of her blouse, then moved my hand under her bra to squeeze and tease at her breasts and nipples. I unzipped her shorts and pulled them off, one hand stroking her ass and tracing the slit of her pussy along her already wet panties as she leaned over, bent down and started giving me a blow job. I moved my fingers inside her panties, stroking her pubic hair and pushed them inside her wet slippery pussy as her head bobbed up and down along my shaft, hearing her sigh as I continued to fuck her with my fingers.

 

She just kept at it, sucking on my cock, licking at my cockhead, massaging my balls and allowing herself to ride on my fingers. I could feel slight tremors between her thighs, her pussy juices flowing beautifully down; and she'd just kept on going until I came inside her mouth.

 

We tidied up, and I realized we'd just done a naughty deed while the car was parked along the open visitors' lot at her condo. It'd been challenging to justify anything had someone come up along the car and looked in, but I guess we were lucky this time.

 

My fingers were still wet with Bru's juices when she kissed me again and got out of the car.

 

"I wanna see you real soon", she said in mock frustration; nothing I wouldn't do for her, and I said I'd call her. I drove off without even bothering to zip up, my cock still hard from thinking about fucking both Kym and Bru at the same time: would Kym be as juicy and horny as Bru, who would I take first if I had both at the same time, and who would I love to do that Jap porn bukkake thing?

 

And I was wondering how to go about arranging for a threesome with Kym and Bru, really. Would be quite an event, don't you think?

 

 



Tagged.

The weekend's come and soon to be gone, and what a way to wake up on this lazy rainy Sunday morning than to be naked and lying on Liz's bed after a night of fun and games with her the "proper" way, finally.

 

I'd seen La Femme off at the airport, and an hour later, I found myself out having drinks with Liz and her friends at Dragonfly at St. James. Yes, I know that's where the older crowds hang out, and honestly, that's probably where I could go find and pick up some really dishy MILFs.

 

As it is, Liz was in the company of 2 other MILF-y friends. They're all in their late 30s, one of them's 42, but I must say all of them have done a really good job staying fit and looking gorgeous so much so figure-hugging dresses still bring out the best in them: oh so yummy, and I'd love to have all 3 in the bedroom. 

 

And after drinks, Liz invited me back to her place; her ex has the company of the kids for the weekend, so we had the whole place to ourselves. I must say she's done a really good job in terms of doing up the interior décor of her apartment, stylishly done, courtesy of her wealthy Indo-Chinese ex, and you wouldn't suspect her having kids, because at least the living room was free of the clutter of toys, the almost mandatory kid's bicycle and such you'd find typically of households with young children.

 

Or perhaps she took the deliberate task of cleaning the place up with the intention of inviting me over to begin with, given she already knew I was available for the weekend.

 

We had wine, and not long after we'd shed our clothes, and I found myself slowly and gingerly kissing and licking away slowly between her legs, my sensitive nose taking in the scent of her sex. She parted her pussy lips so I could taste more of her, and I was stroking my hard cock as I licked at her.

 

In the comfort of her home, Liz was uninhibited. We had round one in the living room, our clothes a mess on the floor, and I took her doggy style, pumping deep into her and my hands cupping her full breasts. She was moaning and calling out loudly, one hand reaching down to massage my balls as we fucked.

 

The living room done, she led me to the master bedroom, so beautifully scented with her perfume, and it was there that she took out a dildo and started playing with herself as she laid on the bed, for my viewing pleasure.

 

I walked over to her, she took my hard cock into her mouth and started giving a blowjob as she moved the dildo in and out of her pussy. I thought I'd do her a favour, and I took over the toy, pushing it in deep, giving a turn every now and then, and hearing her muffled moan each time I did so.

 

I started to get really jealous of the dildo, so I yanked it out, and pushed my dick inside of her, thrusting in deep and hard. She grabbed my close as we fucked, and bit me on one shoulder as she rode me, her hips gyrating and grinding away. It was my intent to fuck her hard, fuck her like the bitch she could ever be, and each time I pushed myself deep inside her, she called out "Yes baby, fuck me hard..."

 

When I felt I was about to come, I pulled my cock out of her and ejaculated on her tummy. She had a slutty look in her eyes as I did that, her fingers spreading my cum over her tummy and around her crotch, and she tasted her fingers as I laid down beside her, my fingers running over her breasts and stroking her nipples.

 

We laid down on the bed as she snuggled up next to me, and I kissed her hair and held her close.

 

"I could get used to this lovey-dovey feeling", she teased, and after that, she closed her eyes and in the silence of the room, I could hear her breathing and I found it strangely erotic.

 

She saw me growing hard again, her fingers stroking my cock, then she moved up, positioned herself, then impaled herself on my hard rod once more.

 

And she got me feeling tired that last one time; we decided to call it a night, and fell asleep in each other's arms.

 

This morning found her getting up early to make breakfast and coffee. I met her at the dining table clad only in my boxers; she was wearing a satin robe that gave glances of her gorgeous naked body since she didn't bother to tie up. I was thinking her neighbours must have had quite a sight to watch from their kitchen window when I noticed Liz had a maid doing the laundry.

 

My god, did the girl watch us as we fucked in the living room? She must have heard everything, and my little naughty mind was thinking was she playing with herself as she heard us fucking in the living room?

 

And Liz didn't think of anything as she came over to my chair after she'd laid out breakfast of ham and eggs on the table, parted her robe so her breasts were exposed, then sat on my lap so I could suck on her nipples. Let her watch, I suppose.

 

She had the rest of the morning to spare before the ex dropped the kids back, and we were contemplating what to do (another round of sex?), and in the end, she suggested going over to MBS in a while to do some lingerie shopping at Victoria's Secret.

 

And no to the morning sex as she's feeling a little sore. So I found myself with some time to kill as she went about clearing up the place-- still clad in her satin robe.

 

What a woman.

 

***

Incidentally, I'm wondering where I'd find MILF specimens the likes of this one:

 

 

 

...although I'd say her nails are somewhat freaky. But I'll bet her blonde pussy would taste so damned good. I could almost imagine what it'd be like to have my head buried between those jugs too.

 

My Tagged account saw a lot of young girls in their 20s trying to chat me up. Some have even gone so bold as to suggest I could have a romp with them if I could 'sponsor' their shopping for branded bags and such-- that's a subtle way of saying paying for sex, wouldn't it?

 

But it does appear many young girls don't seem to think of trading sex for benefits much these days. I had one 22 year old saying I could "do whatever you want" in exchange for a gold iPhone 5S; she's quite a pretty young one, but honestly I'm a little surprised at how upfront they could get.

 

I did spot a couple of attractive ladies in their late 30s and early 40s, and honestly, my opinion, it doesn't matter if you listed your status as "married", because if you were out there on Tagged, I suppose there's a fair chance you're out looking, if you know what I mean.

 

And of course I'd take the chance to drop a hello note to them. ;)

 

So if you're a hot 30/40-something momma and you read this blog, you heard it from me here that there's a chance I just hit on you. Go figure which one's me.

 



Another scandal, another day, another month.

Seems like girls these days get themselves into all sorts of trouble, don't you think? And  there are now leaked nude pictures of FHM 2013 winner Jamie Ang circulating about the internet, and allegations she had been a former social escort etc; apparently ghosts of your past do haunt you, especially after you've found fame.

 

 

Well if you asked me, yes, Jamie looks oh-so-fuckable with her "I'm your slut" looks-- but taken from another perspective, I'm thinking so what if she'd been a nude model, and so what even if she'd been a freelancing social escort (if that was true): let's not make a bloody big deal out of this, because elsewhere in the world, we have former porn actresses and high-end social escorts taking part in, and winning, beauty pageants all the time.

 

And if you believed winning a beauty pageant means you suddenly have a moral or civic responsibility to go out there and start kissing babies or make the world a better place, you're either horribly thick in the head, or terribly naïve.

 

Then there's sexy young mama Charis Goh who found herself thrust into the limelight because she'd posted sexually suggestive pictures of herself, so much so even the local Chinese tabloid Wanbao picked it up, and made a hoo-ha over the whole issue. Her argument being she's divorced from her good-for-nothing husband, and she therefore has to become a lingerie model to feed her two children.

 

 

 

Well like I said, how people decide to go about bringing home the bacon is really their business, really. I'm only interested because me being me, I'm thinking both Jamie and Charis look oh-so-yummy, and if either's reading this, well, you're free to buzz me for comfort. :P

 

***

Separate note, it's been 72 days since I joined the new workplace, and 12 days (thereabouts) since Liz and I started getting naughty in the office.

 

I really don't quite get how young kids these days measure anniversaries in months and days, but I suppose it all means relationships have become even more transient than they ever have been.

 

Anyone who's been working long enough would know that by the 3rd week of work, you'd know if the job fits, and what your prospects would be: seeing I've crossed that 3-week bump, I think I'm gonna be alright where I am. I am in my element (take away the women at the office, I'm talking serious work here), and certainly I'm in a company that's a little too big to fail, or even if it did (touchwood), based on my current portfolio, it wouldn't be tough to find another job that's commensurate in terms of position and salary, so I'm not overly worried there.

 

And when you talk about my relationship with Liz, well, I only needed 3 days to know what it was going to be, and how it would end up. She's cool with the arrangement, so no issues there: we're both adults, and we know how things will be.

 

Incidentally, I found out she's dating a marketing director of one of our consortium partners, she's admitted things are more on the serious side in that other relationship.

 

I'm fine with that, obviously, and in fact, I have to admit I'm kinda relieved: I don't think I want to ever get into a situation where a divorcee starts thinking if I am father material for her kids ever again. Not that I am adverse to having children, I'm just not keen on trying to build a relationship with another guy's kids all over again: too tedious, and I have other priorities.

 

So with Liz, I'm her "sexually charged-up superior" as she puts it. In other words, with her, I'm her boss first, then comes all the side-play of sex and such, but at the end of the day, it's not going to be the "I promise you a happy ever-after" sort of relationship.

 

I'm glad she made it clear. And it's funny I should be tying all this, and thinking about Jamie and Charis, while toying with the G-string Liz left on my desk last night...

 

How I love women.



You're making me hard.

It's been close to 2 months since I started working at the new workplace, and I haven't gotten my usual office place fun.

It isn't that the women in my office are unattractive; it's just that work has really kept me so busy I hardly have time to go fool around, so to speak. 

In any case, there's this particular MILF-y manager who's my indirect report that's caught my attention; mostly because she has this habit of going around bra-less, and I kid you not. No doubt she wears dark coloured blouses on days she decides to let her ample breasts hang loose, it's pretty obvious when she's close by and you start to notice her perky nipples and no trace of a bra.

We'd take smoke breaks together, and thus far the discussions have been mostly around work, and once or twice, on her bra-less days, I've caught a hint of her nipples as she bent forward to loosen the strap of her heel, for instance, and with the top buttons of her blouse undone, I've found myself resisting the temptation of wanting to put my hands into her blouse and fondle her breasts.

She isn't exactly the prettiest face when you compare her to the younger girls, but she's still got that come-fuck-my-brains out look. I noticed a number of the younger guys at work have tried to get her attention, but she seems a little snotty at the junior execs and managers, and I guess it's a bit of a compliment when she seeks me out for our little smoke breaks. 

And it's also gotten a point that when the other guys see the two of us walking into the rooftop smoking area, they'd vacate the place so much so we would be on our own; and on days when the smoking place gets crowded, it was she who showed me an alternative smoking place right at the water tank area of the multi-storey carpark located at an annex to the building that's only accessible via a walkway at our level.

That alternative location would make for an ideal place for me to fuck her if only she'd let me on our little breaks, and god, how I'd love to! I've imagined myself going right behind her, kissing her on her neck, sliding my hand into her blouse, fondling her breasts and nipples, then hiking up her skirt to rub at her pussy, then sliding her thong off and taking mouthfuls of her...

Once or twice, I've found myself wanting to push up against her and kiss her on her lips as she stood so close; yet I'm wondering what's holding me back. Here was a woman who's a single mother, recently divorced from her husband, and hence a perfect target... but somehow I've been keeping myself in check.

Ordinarily, I would have just gone ahead and talk naughty to her to 'test waters'; at the moment, I guess it's the myriad of projects that's keeping me at bay. In any case, she's working with me on almost all the projects, so I guess there are opportunities aplenty.

***
Side note: Grumpy Spinster, if those are pics of your ass in the background of your blog, I have to tell you that you've gotten my attention, and I'd love to pull those fishnet stockings off with my teeth. :P

Do I have to?

In so many ways, I wish I could go back to being her "baron" once more. 

I've had women come and go, but none like her: how her presence still lingers after all these months, and how much I remember every little touch, every little kiss we shared. 

I don't normally get sentimental on past affairs, but in this case, I'd very much like to have her around again-- not to make amends, but to have another go at truly making her happy. Honestly.

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*

"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.

A Bruno Mars moment.

Cheating a little, but somehow It Will Rain kept playing in my mind all day, and it made me think of you, and just how dumb it was to have let you go.

Anyway, it was raining the whole day today, and I was mostly stuck indoors on my own-- surprise surprise.

But it was nice to be thinking a little of you, baroness.