Inner Sanctuary
Has anyone else noticed the insides of Olinda's thighs on the MRT doors at the Orchard station? That's rather provocative in my opinion. The insides of a woman's thighs is a very sexual visual. She's looking gorgeous these days, I hope Singapore Idol stardom takes her beyond being a poster girl for some slimming company. Such a great voice and spunky personality, and the only news I have of her recently is that she's lost a whole lot of weight. Something is clearly wrong with our priorities.
Most of yesterday evening was spent with the girlfriend. I dont know what I was trying to do, just helping her have some fun I suppose. Although I would hardly call hot ramen noodles and hamachi sashimi a-lot of fun. 10 dollar cosmos on Emerald hill and countless shots of whiskey with cherries were a great improvement as the night progressed.
lans been messaging me quite frequently these days (it just occurred to me that part of the reasons because hed just broken up- I suppose I had better reinstate that he doesnt call me out just so he can sleep with me. Hes just never really tried to get into my pants.) I went and met him later on in the night, quite pissed by the time I got to where he was. Pissed and dead bored. I think so many people end up fucking in club toilets because theyre so damn bored. Its the same old shit every time you go to a club; and just like how we feel horniest while studying pointless things like the economics of running a grocery store, we get horny in clubs. Oh, that and the booze and available sex.
I suppose I was really drunk last night.
When I woke up this morning, the first thing I did was punch lan in the left eye when he woke me up with a start just before dawn.
What the hell happened last night?
Dont you remember?
Yeah. I remember getting whipped, having candle wax poured on me and then at some point being picked up and tucked into bed.
Something like that. I was fucking wasted too and I feel like shit now. Can you stick my washing in the dryer before you leave later?
My pleasure. Ill even sweep the candle wax off your floor, it was my idea after all.
Youre a darling.
After a conversation with one of his best buddies last night, I have found out, much to my gratification, that he speaks very fondly of me.
Hes such a dear really, and for reasons unknown to me, really turns me on all the time. I never think about him sexually when hes not within my immediate vicinity, but whenever Im hanging out with him, my senses normally end up exploding. Perhaps its something to do with old factory remembrance back from my adolescent years, when cigarette smoke and Polo Ralph cologne meant the boy I thought I loved. And his entire apartment stinks of cigarette smoke and Polo fragrance.
That, and also the fact that I never plan to have sex with him (like I said, I never think about him sexually when Im not actually with him), and that when we do, hes not only easy to please, but more importantly (I believe) is very concerned with my pleasure more then his.
***
It was a hot, silent afternoon. The air-conditioners were turned off and I was sweating on top of soft Burberry sheets, my back arched and the upper half of my shoulders thrown off the bed, my head hanging from the side, facing the curtains. I could hear myself breathing, and hear his breaths and him saying my name as he held me tightly. The curtains rustled and the sunlight that fell on them went dark to light to dark as the folds of the cloth moved. And all I could feel was the most pleasurable feeling in the whole wide world inside me, and me breathing his name, again and again.
And it was a hot, silent, steamy afternoon.
The door clicked shut.
See you after the weekend, babe.
xoxox
Has anyone else noticed the insides of Olinda's thighs on the MRT doors at the Orchard station? That's rather provocative in my opinion. The insides of a woman's thighs is a very sexual visual. She's looking gorgeous these days, I hope Singapore Idol stardom takes her beyond being a poster girl for some slimming company. Such a great voice and spunky personality, and the only news I have of her recently is that she's lost a whole lot of weight. Something is clearly wrong with our priorities.
Most of yesterday evening was spent with the girlfriend. I dont know what I was trying to do, just helping her have some fun I suppose. Although I would hardly call hot ramen noodles and hamachi sashimi a-lot of fun. 10 dollar cosmos on Emerald hill and countless shots of whiskey with cherries were a great improvement as the night progressed.
lans been messaging me quite frequently these days (it just occurred to me that part of the reasons because hed just broken up- I suppose I had better reinstate that he doesnt call me out just so he can sleep with me. Hes just never really tried to get into my pants.) I went and met him later on in the night, quite pissed by the time I got to where he was. Pissed and dead bored. I think so many people end up fucking in club toilets because theyre so damn bored. Its the same old shit every time you go to a club; and just like how we feel horniest while studying pointless things like the economics of running a grocery store, we get horny in clubs. Oh, that and the booze and available sex.
I suppose I was really drunk last night.
When I woke up this morning, the first thing I did was punch lan in the left eye when he woke me up with a start just before dawn.
What the hell happened last night?
Dont you remember?
Yeah. I remember getting whipped, having candle wax poured on me and then at some point being picked up and tucked into bed.
Something like that. I was fucking wasted too and I feel like shit now. Can you stick my washing in the dryer before you leave later?
My pleasure. Ill even sweep the candle wax off your floor, it was my idea after all.
Youre a darling.
After a conversation with one of his best buddies last night, I have found out, much to my gratification, that he speaks very fondly of me.
Hes such a dear really, and for reasons unknown to me, really turns me on all the time. I never think about him sexually when hes not within my immediate vicinity, but whenever Im hanging out with him, my senses normally end up exploding. Perhaps its something to do with old factory remembrance back from my adolescent years, when cigarette smoke and Polo Ralph cologne meant the boy I thought I loved. And his entire apartment stinks of cigarette smoke and Polo fragrance.
That, and also the fact that I never plan to have sex with him (like I said, I never think about him sexually when Im not actually with him), and that when we do, hes not only easy to please, but more importantly (I believe) is very concerned with my pleasure more then his.
***
It was a hot, silent afternoon. The air-conditioners were turned off and I was sweating on top of soft Burberry sheets, my back arched and the upper half of my shoulders thrown off the bed, my head hanging from the side, facing the curtains. I could hear myself breathing, and hear his breaths and him saying my name as he held me tightly. The curtains rustled and the sunlight that fell on them went dark to light to dark as the folds of the cloth moved. And all I could feel was the most pleasurable feeling in the whole wide world inside me, and me breathing his name, again and again.
And it was a hot, silent, steamy afternoon.
The door clicked shut.
See you after the weekend, babe.
xoxox
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