A few nights ago, I have confirmed I have neither aptitude nor practical desire for indulging or availing services from massage and spa shops/parlors.
Whether it will be described as a physical excursion that is primarily effort-oriented (ex: pick up lines, game moves) or a service inclusive in a business-arrangement, I have no real interest in it. Theoretical interest? Sure - lots of it. Who doesn’t? Who wouldn’t?
Okay, here’s the definition of terms… By “it”, I mean “unofficial sex”. By “unofficial sex”, I mean “any sexual activity between two or more persons who are not a couple (ex: husband-wife, gf-bf, gf-gf or what-have-you)”.
And why must I evade it? The reason is not love for my spouse, not lack of lust (‘coz I have tons of that) not even fear of a higher being or ultimate punishment or eternal damnation. Not because it’s illegal or any of the sort (it’s legal right?). I’m not gay and most certainly not evading because of health reasons (who worries about STD’s before sex?). And honestly, I believe I have good skills and often feel an obligation to share them. The reason, I’m now more convinced of, is just love for my own self… or more precisely, the fear of my own conscience, or whatever that means.
Hey, don’t get me wrong I’m no Don Juan oozing with sex appeal, but the idea that “sex is hard to find” is absurd. Hollywood movies about teenage boys begging for sex may be a bit closer but those movies about working men desperate for sex – now that’s fiction.
After high school, evading sex is a lot harder than finding it.
Take note, the operative word is “find”, "hunting" is not needed, people only need to welcome it. The whole world smells of sex… even Barbie and Ken (Don’t know these two? They’re the favourite gift products from Mattel - your niece, girlfriend or sister at one point must’ve begged mom and dad to buy one for her birthday)
Evading sex is a lot harder than finding it, especially if you’re the only married guy among a crowd of healthy bachelors. Well, truth to be told, I’m most probably the first among my high school classmates who got married(and yes, my first born beautiful daughter was a result of unprotected pre-marital sexual intercourse between two college sweethearts) - so for a considerable amount of time, the atmosphere or environment for reunions and annual get-togethers were primarily for bachelors and for singles.
Over the years, I must admit I must’ve been to every famous bikini or strip bar where I work. I’ve worked for Japanese, Korean and American executives/companies, and I have grown fond of the bikini bar culture. Here’s info/tip for the bible lovers, bikini bars are not necessarily prostitution shops, some of them are actually good dining places and hangouts… but yes, sex is there too. One only needs to welcome it. But what do I do? I act as a first-timer and pretend to be a wildlife researcher and interview the enticing ladies (who have been assigned to me and have already been paid for by the boss) about their life and their view points. Yes, I know, I know, I know – it’s a place for welcome not interview (Silly me, what’s freaking wrong with me?!)
What is probably pre-marital sex for singles is most certainly extra-marital sex for those who are married.
Once again, this is not about being a saint or about Roman Catholicism’s holy matrimony. For starters, my wedding was civil and was not an official Christian ceremony, and I’m not exactly a Christian by Christian standards. I could’ve and can still use that as an excuse for involvement in unofficial sex activities (I’ve heard more lame excuses than that)
And even if I do agree that a man’s taste in women is inversely proportional to his age (as a boy, he gets infatuated with his school teacher; as a high school lad, he’s into girls of his age, as an old man, he’s into fifteen year olds), it doesn’t mean I’m actually going to be indulging in extra-marital sex or start preparation for my DOM(dirty old man) years.
Our regrets will not be about the things we have done but on the things we didn’t (or shall I put it: our regrets will not be about the people we did but about the people we didn’t do?). If that’s the case, then so be it.
Let the regrets come.
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Psst..
By “come” in the last sentence, I meant “come”. I have observed that most people after reading or hearing the word “sex” from me, is bound to interpret “come” as “cum”, “orgasm”, “climax”, “release” or whatchamacallit, fooling themselves into thinking that my sentences are filled with double, even multiple meanings. So there, I just thought I ought to be clear. And no, “regrets” in that last sentence is not to be meant to be substituted with “girls”, “bikini babes” or “lovers”; “regrets” means “regrets”, capish?
I fear judgement coming from my inner self. My inner self is a whole different parallel version of me. I might probably the sanest schizo there is. My inner self(or selves) is fond of whispering side-comments and commentaries to me, whether it’s a blissful, tragic or embarrassing moment. In fact, I feel it’s the part of me that is dominant when I write or blog…
But of course, I have added the last paragraph as a vain attempt to add a touch of comedy, macabre, eeriness, humour or utter silliness; it’s that or it’s just a silly attempt to make a zen proverb afterthought at the bottom of this otherwise boring post.
Oh, before I forget…
Warning: Evading OFFICIAL SEX is dangerous to your health.
Warning: Evading OFFICIAL SEX is dangerous to your health.
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