Killing two birds

00:23 a.m

My phone beeps. Again.

Two men are waiting for me to respond: The boyfriend, for a retort to his goading reaction to my earlier sarcasm, and the obstinate Chris, for a response to his call for bedtime action.

I just lie down in bed, disgusted by and yet still wanting both for different reasons.

Evidently when it rains it bloody pours, because just 24 hours ago I was feeling a little bit lonely and quite ignored.

But defiance gets the better of me and I end up replying to one.

Two hours later.

Bits of me are still feeling tingly, and definately less ignored. But perhaps still lonely, I find myself replying to the other finally.

The answer's less than satisfactory, so I think I'll be passively even more defiant, and invite that one over too.

Inwardly, perhaps we're all just contemptuous children, unsatisfied with not testing the boundaries of no's and shouldn't's, and all just wanting to see how much it takes to cause an explosion.

It's not what you're thinking! I'm not letting him do more than massage my shoulders. God knows I don't have the energy for it again after Chris. But it's good enough to soothe my injured pride just knowing how much of an insult it would be if he only knew...

Sometimes I want to tell him directly not to try and play games with me, because girls can play a lot better than men can.

We know how to cheat, you see.

The Devil ain't lost her horns yet

Well, for the benefit of all 3 of you who were wondering where the devil I've been, the answer's quite simply in the last post.

I thought I'd try a little straight-lacing, (almost) monogamous committment and honestly, all that jazz... Okay, and paranoia got the better of me too. With him being over at mine so often, I didn't want him stumbling upon certain online sexual confessions.

But things have taken a slightly less hunky-dory turn, as things usually do. And I've missed indulging in these semi-public exposes. After all, now that the entire civilised world and their kid sisters are all furiously blogging with the bandwagon, I reckon one more shameless name-less won't hurt.

We'll call him the Boyfriend.

The one with whom it's completely appropriate to stuff a hand deep into the pockets of for an inappropriate amount of time in order to fish out a simple article such as a coin in public. In other words, to actually go out with rather than just go home with.

Ah, what a wholesome change that can be! For a while, anyway.

Call me ungenerous, but I stop reciprocating with monogamy and honesty once it's not being given freely either. And patience is still not one of my virtues. For the same reasons that i don't see it necessary to wait until a dying relationshup has been officially killed off before I start seeing someone, I also don't need to see it fully revived before I walk away. In fact, the first signs of life are enough to warrant departure.

Cowardly? Probably. Selfish? Definately.

But detachment is the way to live without disappointment, and life is far too short for anger, much less vengeance. It's much easier to love and move on. As they say, all's fair in love and war, and I'm much more of a lover than a fighter.

Anyway, the point is that I got tired of suppressing a part of myself, however small it was. And an awful lot's happened since, and I do want to write them down to let them go, but I'm late for a date and I may be rather occupied for the rest of the night to be writing undisturbed.

I hope so, anyway!

Taming of a shrew

The trouble with having completely non-commital flings is that if you're free to see as many new and different people as you wish, so are they.

Since my last tryst with Trent, I've spotted two different girls on his arm when we've run into each other. And Chris has been hinting at wanting a reunion, but hasn't been able to find an appropriate time away from his sweetheart. Wang has another on-again, off-again fuck buddy besides me, and I won't even start with Shyler.

So where does that leave a girl?

Sex aside, sometimes all I want is some good old fashioned companionship. Maybe it's time I pulled out the 'good girl' act. A friend of mine once told me, "if you want a good guy, you're gonna have to act like a good girl."

Which makes enough sense, fair enough. Although it's a concept that horrifies and saddens me all at once.

What if I'm just not the 'if you want me, you'll wait', legs-crossed-tight kind of girl? What if I really just am the 'I know I'll do you senseless anyway, so why not now?' type. Most men lie and cheat on the good girls with the bad girls anyway, the main difference being that the good girls get introduced to parents and believe their loving boyfriends are are really just out having a drink with the guys.

And yet, the truth is such a burden. It turns you off the romantic ideal which you've always held as desirable. But given the number of attached men who've been involved with me or who've tried, something has seriously got to give.

It'd be easy to decide that since men cheat so freely, the most logical thing to do would be to find a guy to be 'with', and freely cheat as well. But I would like to believe that if I ever did find that magical man who would want me for the nice, decent, bring-to-mummy sweetie pie that I'm not, I would have enough respect for him to pass up an opportunity with any of my above-mentioned on-off flings.

Naive, no...?

Well maybe there's hope for me yet... perhaps I'm not that much of a bad girl after all eh.

Absence makes the *bleep* grow tighter

"You're damn tight now" he panted as he withdrew for a momentary time-out, catching his breath.

"Well, I haven't been doing you for some time now." I reasoned.

Wang. The one with the memorable member.

Fortunately, he enjoys giving head as much as I enjoy receiving it from him and is inclined to suddenly pulling it out to go back down the instant he feels me starting to chaffe.

Which can happen a lot with this one. I usually have to tell him when I've had enough and can't go on anymore for fear that I won't be able to walk, and this was no exception. Even riding him was challenging: I had to control my movements above him and not rest my weight completely on his hips because I simply couldn't accomodate all of him.

But it was good to remind my body what a proper pounding feels like. We all need a little meat-tenderising once in a while. And I sure do feel tender now...

Someday I'll be Saturday night

It's a short week as it is, but the weekend just won't arrive fast enough.

And I need the weekend to hurry and come so I can go out and find a new boy to pull. I say 'boy' because these days I find myself surrounded with what looks to be practical children partying around me in the clubs. And so to keep up with the times, I've lowered my acceptable age limits. Anything that begins with the digit '2' is fair game.

The only iffy thing about messing with little boys is their tendency to get clingy. I still refuse to give my private mobile number to the 21 year old whose acquaintance I made recently. He may have a body like Adonis but I find his open affection slightly overwhelming.

"Don't worry, I'll call you." I find myself telling him, much like how men used to chime back then before women became the hunters. And rejection as they say, really is the greatest aphrodisiac.

Because it could be the fact that this is the youngest member of the opposite sex that I've ever played with, but the more distance at which I keep him, the more insistant his requests to see me.

And it's the reason I need to go out and find myself a new hapless post-adolescent. This one's become far too fixated for me to risk seeing again.

Pity though.

And it's only bloody Tuesday!

Musical chairs

In the entire group of maybe a dozen friends, half the boys have had a thing for me every time I've gotten to know them better at different times over the years.

First it was the talented Nathan who had a school-days crush on me way back then. He'd write me songs and find reasons to sit beside me during breaks when we weren't even from the same department. Then it was sweet, quiet Stewie, who confessed he'd always had a thing for me from the moment we'd met. Whom I felt genuinely sorry to refuse, though I'd never date him . Then Matt the player, who even wrote to his buddy overseas asking for advice on what would impress me. A while ago, it was the perennially funny Evan whom I'd worked with on a small project, who'd try and hide his fluster by cracking jokes around me, but the sheepish grin and lack of eye contact always gave him away.

Most recently, I've been feeling the vibes from Justin.

When we first met in a club with the rest, he'd been blind drunk and tried to dance with me. Failing to do so, he resorted to dancing around me and buying me a lot of drinks. That was five years ago.

He's since graduated from uni, gotten a job, as well as engaged. The wedding's been pending for a while now, for ambiguous reasons.

I've been telling myself it's all in my head, and I'm willing to be proven wrong. Anyway, just because he's attracted doesn't mean he's going to try and do anything about it. I'm just getting it out of my system here so that the next time we all meet up and he gives me the ubiquitous lingering gaze, (you know the one, where they're talking to someone from across the room but their eyes are speaking directly to you for about five seconds longer than they should before pulling away) I can flippantly pretend I don't notice.

I first did notice a while ago, when he'd make a point of smiling brightly and waving every time I joined the group. At first I thought it odd that he'd be accidentally catching my eye every so often from across the table, fiancee by his side.

I figured it out the night I wore the plunging halter top, after feeling his nervous gaze drop from my chest quickly to his drink.

Last night we'd all gone for a drink at a local watering hole and I'd shown up late, saying hi to everyone else first. I swear I wasn't imagining when I say I noticed him brooding at the back of the group and then suddenly get up to go to fetch a drink, asking if anyone wanted anything and then finally making rather loaded eye contact with me.

But really, what does he expect? For me to follow him to the bar one day and initiate some private small talk that turns into a few private texts, that turn into a private meeting? I'm sorry J, you may have cleaned up your act and cute-ened up some, but it wasn't going to happen back then and it still isn't, particularly now that you're engaged.

And if you're looking for that last tryst to ease your wedding jitters, I am not about to be the deal-breaker.

So. That decision having been made, I can now go on to torture him with a few knowing smiles and a little leg crossing, all the while already knowing that it isn't going anywhere at all.

Men are so easily distracted.

Almost like a moth to a flame

I realised that Trent and I have hardly kissed because I can't recall now how he kisses, and kisses are of utmost importance.

Give me a man who can gently bite on my lower lip, who can slowly meet the movements of my tongue with his, who lets me sensuously engulf his tongue with my mouth, and I'll get weak in the knees.

It's rare that a man can move me to feeling tingly between the legs by his kiss alone, but it's happened before. And it's a darned pity that every time I've been with Trent, I've been way too drunk for that kind of all-senses-engaged, full-on making out. Alcohol does affect the memory so, not to mention dry up the body's lubricating ability, be it oral or orifice.

And up to this point, I've been too distracted by his cunning linguistic skills and overall impressive bedroom abilities to slow down and really kiss him.

But I have to confess that I like him a little more than as just a good roll in the hay. And yes I may be headed for deep water here but I've been thinking of asking him to stay the night next I see him, if anytime soon.

It's got to do with the way his eyes are so beguilingly child-like, his face so open and yet arrogant at times, and how ironically his overall demeanor generally doesn't annoy me. Chris may have had a slightly more chiselled torso: abs, pecs, obliques and all, but Trent holds my attention for far longer because he engages me when he speaks.

I suppose it's why I want to kiss him properly the next chance I get, in order to acertain whether there is any kind of subliminal emotional current that passes through us. If there is, I'll really be fucked and know I should avoid him for a while.

Attachment after all, is a major cause of unhappiness. Though at this point I can't help but form an attachment to someone who gives me three orgasms in a row...