|Blogs > thunder_styck > :: Casanova for Hire... ::|
I was a toy boy when I was in university. Did I intentionally decide to be one? No I didn't; I came from a well-to-do family (both my parents were academics at a certain institution here) and I was already running my own keep as a freelance writer. It just happened because I was attracted to the woman in question and she happened to be one of substance.
Lynn was 31 when I met her. She was nine years older than I was, and she was a stunningly gorgeous woman. She looked younger than her age and she was a lot of fun to be with. We met one night at Harry's -- my team was celebrating our win in the National Rugby Championships, and she was an invited guest of one of my mates. She caught my attention the moment I met her, and she had a naughty twinkle in her intelligent eyes when we stole glances at each other.
When I finally had a chance to be with her alone, I pulled a stool next to her, sat down and tried to engage her.
"What are your thoughts on an alternative lifestyle?" she asked before I even started talking.
"Alternative lifestyle... as in kinky sex and all... are you game or you're one of those boring local fellas who just wanna hump the regular way?" she replied. "Because if you are, I'm better off with one of your Caucasian mates tonight."
She had surprised me with her straightforwardness.
"Don't play innocent with me... it's obvious from the way you looked at me that you'd love to fuck me crazy...that is, if you're up to it...", she said once more and took another sip of her Bloody Mary.
I was into her from that very instant. Up until then, the only women I dated were college girls who acted coy in bed when they were horny bitches, and I've never been with a woman older than myself by three years. Yet, I was so attracted by her-- not because she was "ready to go" so to speak, but because she was a strong woman who knew and got what she wanted-- pretty much like my own character. The other girls I've been seeing paled in comparison in that instant.
Three more drinks later, we ended up at her apartment. We talked while she drove her convertible, and I got to like her more: she worked as a senior communications executive in an ad company, she loves outdoor sports, and she was seperated from her husband. She led me through her front door and into her bedroom where we started kissing. I kissed her on her cheeks, her ears, the side of her neck, my mind intoxicated by the scent of her. Then I kissed her on her lips. She parted her lips and our tongues began their little waltz.
She then went into the bathroom and told me to take off my clothes and lie on the bed. She came out a while later wearing a black laced bra and panties. In her hands were a dildo and a pair of handcuffs. She climbed onto the bed and kissed me. As she kissed my neck, she bit me gently then reached out for me below, feeling and caressing my already hard dick.
We then played her little game of dominance with me handcuffing her behind her back then "tormenting" her with the dildo, my fingers and my tongue. We spent the entire night engaging in kinky sex games and by dawn, we both laid exhausted in bed, she cuddled up like a little girl in my arms.
After that night, we started to see each other more regularly. She would pick me up after classes and we would head for town for lunch or coffee. Sometimes, we went to her club where she introduced me to her circle of friends as her "personal assistant". She taught me to play golf and bought me a set of clubs. At first, I was uncomfortable with the idea of her buying things for me, but she always insisted upon doing so. Her other gifts included designer watches and wallets, expensive clothes, a handphone and a laptop computer. I spent the last 3 months of my second year in university moving out of the Hall and into her apartment.
In bed, she wanted me to dominate her. I never figured out her preference, nor did I ever questioned her on it. In a sense, I grew to like it. She had fantasies of a man entering her room when she slept or showered and her. Her favourite perversion was one in which she would be tied spreadeagled to her bed, her panties gagging her mouth and me playing with her pussy but no penetration.
But there were times when she just wanted a "regular fuck" as she called it, and at times like these she would be the dominant one. Our relationship was to be purely sexual. I mean, I never expected us to be in a long-term relationship given our age difference, but I was fond of her.
We stopped seeing each other when she got an overseas posting to Dubai. Her company was setting up a branch there, and in the promise of a promotion, she left. I continued living in her apartment for the next year as a caretaker of sorts before she finally sold the house, just prior to my graduation. When she came back to Singapore every few months, we had a "welcome home fuck" but after the apartment changed hands, she never returned again.
I wasn't heartbroken or anything like that-- like I said, I knew it was to be a purely sexual one from the start. We didn't end on a bad note. It was just another one of them passing memories in my life.
5/16/2005 8:00 am
"The average man is more interested in a woman who is interested in him than he is in a woman with beautiful legs."
--- Marlene Dietrich