A Little Side Action

by RJ in HK

A recent string of one night stands has had me texting all the girls I know to ask them for their ‘Sex and the City’ DVD collection. I need to watch every single episode because I desperately need an insight into the female psyche.

Let me explain, but first…

Size does matter. In the game of flirtations, sexual proclivities, and the ultimate evolutionary drive to procreate, size matters. The size of your bank account, the size of your personality, the size of your intellect. The size of a specific individual human trait, however arbitrarily measured, works in favor of those that can show they have more then the other men around them. And in the arena of alpha male head butting, I generally dominate with my intellect.

To be a good writer one must read a lot, as an unintended yet logical consequence, the side effect is a good writer is well read and tends to be a little more sophisticated in their breadth of knowledge. This ego padding turn of the article has a point to which I will get to later. Suffice to say, there are women that find intelligence attractive, (albeit a braggart unappealing).

Now to explain-

Lately I have found myself unwittingly in bed with married women, although there is a precedence from two years ago.
At one of the bars I frequent, I was introduced to a female investment banker that was just recently transferred from England to Hong Kong. As with investment bankers, the drinks were being poured faster then we could drink them. Eventually we found ourselves naked at Eden, a sex motel in LKF, doing what naked people do in such places. During our sexual tryst her phone rings and she suddenly jumps, pushes me away, and tells me to not make a sound as she reaches for her phone. I, being a tad drunk, don’t immediately grasp the situation, where she proceeds to put one of her hands on my mouth and the other to answer the phone. Still not entirely grasping the situation - and what man can midway sex - she hangs up after a brief conversation and gets out of bed, quickly putting on her clothes. She tells me her fiancé just called and she has to go, that I should not call her (we exchanged numbers earlier in the night), and that I should not acknowledge her existence if we ever meet again.

That was two years ago and in that time I did bump into her a few times, but as requested never acknowledged her. The last few months I find myself in a similar circumstances. Every random hook up, be it from kissing in the stairwell to going back to my place, has been with either a married woman, or women that are in serious relationships. Unknown to me till after the fact, the unwitting fool I am. Of the four married women I slept with, three of them have kids!

My first experience with a married woman would become the framework for the subsequent ones that followed and all would bizarrely end the same way.

We wake up in the morning in my bed – I love morning sex: there is something primal, erotic, and base about sex just after waking up. And so after the morning romp in the hay we say good morning to each other and just as we lay back against our pillows, she turns over and reaches down into her purse. I assume she’s reaching for her cell phone and so I continue to kiss her gently at the back nape of her neck where she turns over and brings out this large red leather woman’s purse. In a city like Hong Kong where certain bars have prostitutes that do not always announce themselves my alarm bells ring. Fortunately all she does is shows me photos of her kids, at which I learn she’s married, her husband is out of town and she has a caretaker looking after her children. And every time my reaction has been simply, ‘what?’

I’ve never gotten an answer, which is why I think I need to watch the entire series of ‘Sex and the City’ in hopes I may find one. That is not to say I believe the show enables women to practice infidelity without conscience. A budding feminist and friend from high school once told me, “men fuck with their penises, women fuck with their minds”.

Which brings me back full circle. Without any true insight into the female psyche I can only make certain – probably incorrect and self indulgent – assumptions: These recent affairs with married women may be in part of what I can offer. Perhaps I provide the intellectual escape from married life, the provocative mindful fantasy only a creative person does naturally and with ease.

Now I do not think these married women are sluts. To suggest otherwise is an immature and oft lacking understanding of human sexuality.

We live in a puritan society structured around false ideals. While a stable relationship can benefit a family and the upbringing of children, sexuality is merely a moment of human primal indulgence. Whilst I have not continued further relations with these married women, I never judged them either. I do want to understand why of all the strangers in the bar that night, I alone was picked. Perhaps like many intellectuals I am over thinking and it simply comes down to just serendipity and nothing more. Perhaps it’s more complicated and as complex as the myriad dynamic of the human psyche and sexuality.

Thus I end with something I scribbled down many years ago:
“To live if only to love. To love if only one may live.” To which I add an addendum, “to fuck if only to indulge.”
 

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