Friday, July 08, 2005

Younger Men

Last night I broke with tradition and shagged a guy younger than me. Maybe it was because I needed to do something special to celebrate a major milestone in my life - resigning from my company. Or maybe it was because he didn't seem like the typical washed-out chewed-up Singapore expat when he proclaimed loudly that all Singaporean women bored him (how charmingly naive). Or maybe it was because he told me he used to be a gymnast and flexed his not inconsiderable pecs for me. Or maybe...just maybe it was because I was at Attica on a Wednesday. How many more excuses does a girl need for the fact that she was just plain bored and very horny?

"You sound like you have an American accent," he says.

"I went to school there," I reply nonchalantly. I had noticed him standing quietly in the corner of the VIP area, watching me dance.

"Which uni did you go to?" he asked seriously. As if my academic qualifications really mattered to him.

"Uh oh. Wrong question. How old are you?" I shot back, instantly suspicious. I wasn't in the mood for intelligent conversation.

"I'm a very mature 23 year old," he says.

I laugh. "Err...that's like, my brother's age."

"Well I can do a few things your brother can't. Like this." He swoops in for a kiss. His lips are soft and unbelievably gentle. I break away and grind my hips sexily against him. Not surprisingly, I can feel his growing erection. We dance together for a while.

"God you are such a tease. You've got to be the most exciting female I've met in Singapore," unable to control his arms from roaming up and down my body. I tease him for a few more minutes before turning to face him in my attempt to tell him a few disappointing home truths.

"Look darlin', I'm too old for you. Besides, I'm off home now. I have an 8:30 meeting. Sorry." I cock my head and smile with faux-regret. As I leave, he follows me with an air of injured nobility, insisting on walking me to my cab.

"Look, this is really not necessary. But since you're the tourist, I can drop you off if you don't live too far." I hail a cab, open the door and usher him in. It was more of a directive than an invite. By now, I was relishing playing the role of Corrupter of the Youth, probably as much as he was enjoying playing the Acquiescent Puppy.

In the cab, my tongue made tantalising circles around his thumb and I sucked each of his fingers in turn. In return, he reached under my skirt to pleasure me, his fingers surprisingly deft and quick. By the time we reach his house, he's worked me into a reasonable lather.

"Don't make me beg...please..." he says huskily, looking as if he would enjoy doing exactly that.

"All right I won't. Your night just got better. The taxi fare is $8.60, come on get your change. No dawdlin' now, dear," I exit the cab and he stares at me open-mouthed, not quite following his sudden reversal of fortune.

Now if you follow this blog, you'll know that youth and inexperience aren't particularly high on my list of desired qualities in bed. But he committed himself reasonably well. He was a quick learner. His enthusiasm and stamina served him well. And he thanked me for a great night in the best way he knew how. Again. And Again. And Again(!!?). All in the space of an hour.

All in all, the shag turned out pretty ok. I think I was charmed by his earnest adoration of me. It certainly made up for the flourescent ceiling lighting and student-styled apartment (complete with sports trophies). He didn't have the practiced lines and guarded technicality of an older man. He was in genuine awe of everything I did. Every little gesture would turn him on and bring him to his knees (literally and figuratively), begging me to do it again.

"How did you know I like girls who lick my clavicle / suck on my balls / ride me reverse-cowgirl etc, " he would ask almost incredulously. I practised my best 26 year old knowing smile in response.

Ardently, he would whisper, "you're explosive in bed", "you have to give me your number", "how do you do that?", "you are the sexiest woman I have ever met". Sighs. I could get used to that.

Of course, there's no saying what 10 years of life experience and experimenting with loose women will do to him. But until then, it can't help to pick up a few useful life skills can it? I've told him that I'd bring my Japanese bondage ropes for our next session ("If I decide there is to be a next session, don't get your hopes up," I told him before leaving his apartment). So he can learn them, and learn them well.