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Thursday, November 10, 2005

The sexual allure of emotional wrecks

As a rule, I don’t go for boys with baggage – the heavy, emotionally-weighed, angst-ridden, sensitive boys who bristle at every word. But I can’t resist a good body and the quiet hidden charisma of a boy who doesn’t realise just how much of a hardbody he is.

There’s this boy – a-friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend kind of thing. At first glance, he’s just your ordinary Chinese-ed kinda boy, the sort that sits in the corner and guffaws every now and then at some bad joke. The girls are mad for him though – they flock around him and try to make him laugh, even though he doesn’t say or do anything particularly special. I wondered what the big deal was so tried to strike up a conversation one day when I found myself standing next to him at a bar. And then within 5 minutes I too fell all in lust with him.

He’s unwittingly mysterious, without trying to be so. Chronically shy – not in a way that doesn’t like to talk or socialize, but in that awkward way that refuses to divulge any personal information, no matter how ordinary. Apparently, he doesn’t even have a name and is known to everyone only by his surname. Self preservation at its best.

After weeks and weeks of talking to him intermittently, I discover that he’s going through “issues.” On a particularly lucid, open moment on MSN, he sends me a link to his online journal, full of poems. They’re deep, dark, lonely, desperately sad and full of heartache but so well written it made me want to get on my knees, give him a blow job and have him pen a few beautiful lines on bits of scrap paper. They can’t be all bad if they made even this hard hearted gal feel her heartstrings tug.

And he has a remarkable body. It’s hidden of course, under the sorts of tshirts that don’t do ever justice to biceps. Of course, he doesn’t think he’s remotely worth looking at: someone called him a “leng jai” one day and he protested it so fervently you’d think he’d been insulted. The insecure types are often tiring and boring, but something about this one keeps me well on my toes. I've discovered that the deep, dark, hidden recesses of an emotional wreck can, in fact, given the right boy and body, wreck physical havoc on a girl's sex drive, spinning it into overdrive.

Now, I don’t purport I’m going to swoop in, mend his heart and change his life to one full of adoring love and happy relationships wrapped in pink foil. I don't do that, it's too sickening. I did however, think he might benefit from a bit of distraction from the woes of the world. A romp in the sheets and a good blow job may prove to clear his head enough to sort out the rest of the problems – a bit like Prozac, without the brain damage. The few past sexual experiences with basket cases have proven to be quite intense and insanely ecstatic.

Don’t put money on it, but I think it may just work ;)


  • as the saying goes, 'a gud bj can cure anythin....'


    By Anonymous Anonymous, at 3:42 PM  

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