The Party Ecosystem - Part II
So there we were at the taxi stand. No one standing still and no one talking straight, There was MsHeineken, MsBehaving, Roberto, Mark, me and O (henceforth known as the Big O.) Mark already put 2 other unimportant guys and 2 more drunk girls in a cab to his place and Roberto got into the next cab. I gestured to MsHeineken and MsBehaving to go ahead into the cab. They climbed in, fully exposing MsHeineken’s left boob and right buttcheek. O smiled, nodding towards MsHeineken and said
O: Nice.
Me: (realizing he’s talking about MsHeineken) Well, get into the cab then.
O: (turns and looks at me) awww… you’re mad at me. *jabs a finger in my ribs*
Me: No, I’m not. Why would I be?
O: (looking innocent and baring his palms up skywards, shrugging dramatically) I can’t look at something that’s nice?!
Me: you can’t, you dirty dog! You just won’t give up until I have the fake tits you’ve always wanted, would you?! *people in the queue turned around*
We both laughed.
Mark: You guys coming?
O: Yeah, just give the cab driver the address, I’ll take her there.
Mark: It’s ok. I’ll come with you guys.
O: If you like mate.
Mark: Yeah, seems I like what you like.
*rawr* Now, work your imagination and imagine we’re now in the dry grasslands of the savannah dessert. I was the piece of fresh, red meat of a wildebeest hanging from the trees where I have just been flung onto. The vultures are eyeing the raw piece of dinner, but the eye-contact duel between the hungry young lion and the veteran leopard kept them at bay.
***
We got to a swanky apartment, a cat swing away from town. It was dimly lit and badly furnished in the way most apartments were when in a hurry to be rented out to expats who think anything oriental denotes an exotic appreciation of taste. The 3 minute cab ride had caused all traces of alcohol in me to magically vanish and by this time, Mark was majorly losing points. It was like I was coming down after a wild, trippy ride on the joyluckbus and everything that was dream-like, neon-shadowed and full of stardust a nano-second ago was now a stark, bright, revolting greenish-yellow. Mainly because I heard MsBeHaving utter the words that would cause even Bob Marley to sober up.
MsBeHaving: Babe… I need to … to…. throw uuuuuuuup
Swift as a Suzuki, I guided her to the toilet, pulled her hair back and gave her a nice long rub on the back, my face in a crumpled grimace, afraid of what is to come.
She: orrrrrr weeennnggghhhh
Me: *holds my breath*
She: orrggghhhhhhhHHHH orGH… ORGHHHhhh
Me: *still holding my breath, wondering “whythefuckme? Whythefuckme?”
She: ORGHhhhh… babe, (she said in tears. I reckon it was the gagging) Phil and I… arrrrr arrrrrgghhhhh over rrrrrrrghhhhhh!!!!
Me: Ok ok… there there… try not to talk. Shall I get u a glass of water?
She: I’mmm oookay. No, not Phil, I mean Rookie… hai (she let out a sigh)
Me: (I deflected, but I still caught a whiff of her breath. Argh! gross! Kill me! I imagine my blackened lungs pointing a middle finger at me)
She: (more sighing) I think Rookie’s just not proactive…
Me: okay… erm, can we get out? I don’t think this is the best place to be pouring your soul out. (laughing at my own pun)
She: He’s just… hai… it’s been so long already (them sleeping with each other), and he’s never made a move (to take it to the next level), you know?
Me: Babe, it’s all at Borders in the self-help section. I quote: “He’s just not that into you”
damn, I’m mean when I’m drunk.
She: oooorgghhh my god. I’m drunk. Orrrgh…. Can we go???
Me: What? It was your idea to come! And I got 2 cute guys out there! And we just got here! And you want to go! What the fuck?!?!
She: okok. we stay…. Orrrgghhh…
Minutes later, we emerged from the puke infested toilet – looking fabulous, no less. By now, the party had taken on a life of its own. A couple was snogging on one side of the living room while another girl sprawled on the sofa – snoring like a pig. Ms.BeHaving looked set to join her. The rest were at the dining table having a rather intellectual conversation about the “pressure of every 30 yr old Singaporean to get married” and the guys were busy winding Ms, Heineken up.
FYI, Ms.Heineken is not the sharpest crayon in the box, nor the brightest bulb in IKEA, nor the hottest girl in
Mark: I bet it’s because he knows that you will stop giving him sex after he proposes. – and steal all his money
Ms Heineken: no.
Mark: of course it is. Singaporean girls – u just want to get married to a rich man
Ms Heineken: no, that’s not true. I DOWAN to get married!
Mark: oh please! You’re dying to. He just never asked
Ms Heineken: He HAS okay. I said no.
O: Oh really.
Ms Heineken: In fact he asked twice, (she muttered) you assholes.
O: ohhh, you. (he squinted his eyes and pointed at her) are a very angry girl. YOU however, (he pointed at me) are a happy girl. are u always so happy?
Me: haha. Stop pissing my friend off you two.
It was all very clear to me now – after 30 minutes of no alcohol and vomit air – my head was clear as the Tuscan sky. O was the more charming of the two. We have a winner.
(Overheard: The fastest ONS negotiation in the history of
O: Shall we leave this party?
Me: Yes.
O: Let’s go.
***
We get to his place. And THIS is what I call taste. Putting up a random vase or painting and calling it art is bullshit. O had proper oak chests and cabinets, exquisitely carved by the hands of virgin Mumbai female slaves, and some ornaments carried by the warriors of the late
Basically, I like him and he can do no wrong.
So even though he served me water from a 1.5l mineral water bottle (not evian) and even though I saw a pirated DVD peeking out from his collection, and even though he didn’t rinse the kettle before putting it to boil, it was all very “rugged” to me. Yes, I am so very biased.
You are a sexybeast until proven flaccid.
He made me green tea and we spoke more. He told me about his love for football and I totally impressed him with my knowledge. (Read Football Diaries) I told him about my yoga classes and he made me promise him I’d give him a private viewing. He told me about his semi-retirement plan to quit the job and I promised to keep it a secret. I told him about Roberto saying “Keezzz mee” and he leaned over and kissed me.
Me: NO…! I’m saying RO-BER-TO said… “Keeezzz meee”
He: *kisses me again*
Me: *pushing him away* nooooo…
He: But you just said to kiss you?!?! *he shrugged in innocence again*
Me: I said. ROBERTO. Your Italian friend. said “Keezz mee”
He: *kisses me* you said it again *kisses me more*
Me: stop kissing me, or I’ll write an email to your company and rat on your plan to quit
He: but you promised not to
Me: No I didn’t.
He: How about I do something for you and you promise not to tell?
Me: ok. How about you dance for me?
He: How about you shut the fuck up, you chatterbox? *he presses my lips together*
Me: *struggled free* How about you show me a football trick, little puppy?
He: ok! *suddenly excited* I’ll show you a card trick. *like he stumbled on a great idea, and he sped off to get a deck of cards*
He proceeds to show me the coolest.fucking.card.trick in the world! Somewhere, 5 apartments away, a tortured maid could hear me scream
Me: FUCK OFF!!! OH MY GAWD! U FUCKING DEVIL! HOW DID U FUCKING DO THAT? UN-FUCKING-BELIEVABLE! You’re Satan. Hang on hang on… you couldn’t have… I was watching you… but then again… but no… HOW HOW HOW? SHOW ME AGAIN!! Please! you.have.to you.have.to!!!
He: *shakes his head satisfyingly and kissed me again* now u promised to promise.
I was totally charmed. Truth be told, I have seen fucking cool card tricks before and I know, I know, that it can all be explained and only Houdini and Jim Morrison, and some say my Crazy Auntie Lucy really possessed magical powers. But he was just sooooo fucking charming in the way he dealt the cards; the way he held each one up; the way he took my hand to hold the card while he shuffled; the way his eyes burrowed deep into mine to catch me trying to peek… I could replay his icy magician stare in my head all day. THAT, boys and boys – is foreplay.
One motherfuggin sexy helluva foreplay.
It was 6.50am
The sun was threatening to creep up and expose all the tension we have spent the last 5 hours building up. In an instant, all the things kept sexy by the night sky would soon be blasted by the brightness of the day and made silly by the clarity of it all.
The bewitching hour was over.
It was time.
His kisses became a harder, and mine just got hungrier. The cheeky little ones planted a minute ago, that was meant to tease, taunt and torment, were now becoming seriously hot and bothered. Each grip felt tighter, each brush more deliberate, and each kiss lasted longer, than the last… the heat was on. I tugged fiercely at his shirt, drawing myself close… but only close enough to him to keep him at bay – the ritual of pulling his lust close only to push his eagerness away was something that always drove me over the edge. “Put your hands away and take your dress off” he said, ever so rash to be in control… and with my eyes fixed on him and a smile tugging the corner of my lips, like his ten other requests, I shook my head from left to right in the most excruciating pace I could muster. “Come on…” he gently coaxed. And still I wouldn’t budge.
And if there’s something that beats watching someone be reduced to a desperate state of yearning by you, it is when you witness them snap right out from it - like an injured leopard, cheating death, by making a final attack. O knew the game exactly. He didn’t want to take any more of my nonsense like a horny schoolboy.
“Let's quit fucking around, shall we?”
Underneath it all, I could tell he was a tender, passionate lover. But the idea of if was too gay for him to admit. With his one free arm, he held me down by my ribs, easing his weight on me. He kissed me on the neck and kissed me on the ears… All my words of protests he knew were meant to be music to his ears, and all that struggling to break free merely served to remind him that he was in control. He definitely appreciated me returning his gestures, but he was sure to let me know that he knew just how to work a girl. So even though my two hands pinned above me were struggling to break free, only mock pressure was needed, because he and I both knew
That I wasn’t going to go anywhere…
at least nowhere he didn’t intend for me to.
That’s what nature has always been about. That some must die in order for others to live; that losing a sheep could mean perpetuating another species. – The sustaining ecosystem. Now I know why wildlife photographers don’t burn in hell even though they sit there in their digital SLRS and snap at the process of death. Because really, they are capturing life. And it’s all part of nature.
Why am I cryptic all of a sudden, you ask?
Because, for the analogy-challenged, the veteran leopard sinking his teeth into my neck and going for the kill, equates to when I was begging O to stop playing and start humping. When that happened, nature had it that a loud bang was to be administered by a nearby hunter. i.e. Our about-to-happen love making was cut short when I knocked over his namecard holder on to the floor, with a plastic-sounding “clack”. I caught a glimpse of his name, but more importantly, his company.
My life was sucked out of me, the same way a leopard drains his victim of blood.
O’s company works with mine. We're work associates!
All rationality came charging into me like Robinson Sales transactions to my credit card. For months, we have been on emails!!! and someday we will more than virtually meet. I was incredible horny, but not horny enough to let my professional reputation be jeopardized by one.maybe.orgasm. Plus, I could already imagine the enjoyment of mentally undressing each other for the first time if we ever met in the boardroom someday.
Sleeping with him now would ruin it. And I’m all about the moments.
So again, the cock teaser of
“I’m hungry”
He looks at me, studies me for a while, making a mental bet if he should carry on making out with me; whether by ‘hungry’, I meant “hungry for food”, or “hungry for meat”… if I was testing him, and if I was just being a big tease, and most importantly, if I was worth it.
O: “Let’s get you something to eat then”
Me: “I’ll have a vodka tonic and a poached salmon”
O: “Done.”
And he did it! No questions asked. I had a full spread. Poached salmon, lemon butter herb sauce, baby spinach salad dressed in balsamic vinaigrette, and a juice, instead of the vodka. I attacked the food like a Neanderthal while he sat there. He took one long drag on his cigarette and said,
“You must have a boyfriend. Or you’d be in my pants by now.”
I stopped eating, wiped my mouth and said
“I like to eat slowly – at my own pace.”
And he repeated.
“You must have a boyfriend.”
posted by Agent Provocateur @ 6:00 AM
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