Laughter is an Aphrodisiac

As selective and superficial as I aspire to be with men, I will admit to this one nagging weakness: I can be laughed into bed. And I have been…by fat men. Short men. Gimpy men. Bald men. Of course there are limits (i.e. I do not find Moses Lim the least bit attractive) and exceptions (i.e. if you’re Hugh Jackman and work in a mortuary, I would still shag you.) But I find it such a rare luxury to be naked shagging and laughing the night carelessly away.

There is plenty of humour I enjoy, but the one thing that really gets me hot is the slightly insolent, presumptuous kind of banter that only a very confident man who doesn’t take himself too seriously can get away with. (Otherwise they become louts and wankers and it’s a turn-off.)

See the brief exchange I had with Akhil over the phone today.

“Hello Lisa / Sonia / Spyder / whatever you call yourself,” he introduces himself. “So you free tomorrow? Are we hooking up or not?”
“Could you possibly ask me that in a more gracious manner?” I laugh.
“Where’s your house?”
“I live in outer space, remember. Besides, why is that important?”
“So that we can have drinks near your place.”
“Why can’t it be your place? Why even have drinks at all?”
“You mean just come over and start shagging?” Brief pause.
“Hmm...good idea, but maybe we should have that drink.” We laugh.
“Just in case you’re bad in bed, at least there’s some redemptive value to the evening if I was at least able to get drunk,” I add.
“Ok fine, now that you’ve agreed to meet me, I guess you can fuck off.”
“Yup, I wouldn't waste any time making conversation if I were you. I’m not interested in you for your brain anyway.”

We laugh and hang up. But it really made my day. Oh dear…there must be some medication I can take for this.