He thought about the Universe after he nutted.
“After I had that car sex, I was thinking I might have found a potential FWB,” I was telling one of the early guys I knew from Ashley Madison (AM). “N, then I scared the guy away.”
“Hahahaha…what are you doing to scare guys away?" he asked.
“Founder nerds won’t do. He said I was too much for him,” I replied.
Yeah. Founder guy and I talked for two hours, went for a long walk and had lunch together. He wanted to go to a hotel but I told him I didn’t have time. I said we could play in my car a little, check our chem, and next time do the deed.
He pressured me to do more. Sucking my nipples, kissing, and giving a blow job wasn’t enough for him.
“And I scared that Founder engineer away,” I said. “Damn. That’s why I go with the younger guys,” I said.
Not that Founder guy was old. At twenty-seven he was older than my usual crowd which seems to be getting ridiculously younger.
It wasn’t the age that mattered. It was more this guy’s mental age, which I was hesitant about. And as for meeting Chinese guys, I was new to this. H said I shouldn’t talk to China Chinese guys because of my pig-slaughtering encounters. Besides, I was always attracted and gravitated to Korean guys or East Asian Americans.
From a lineup of guys on the dating apps. When they didn’t say where they were from or what language they spoke. Almost always, I’d pick a Korean dude. Or an East Asian guy who looked more Korean. It was my type.
“Founder nerds won’t do. He said I was too much for him. Too wild.” I frowned at my phone. He was different in the car. There was an air of sexiness and danger about him —the thrill of doing something bad.
“Are you sure about this?” I asked him when he asked if I had a condom.
“Are you asking if we have chemistry?" he answered the question in my head.
I nodded.
His lips got close to my ear. I felt his hot breath, the sound of his deep lust-filled voice ringing as he said, “Didn’t you feel it? The chemistry between us. The whole time we were together. Our attraction?”
It was a zap through my body. And instantly, I was reminded of him.
ZJ is the Chinese guy I met before I left Singapore. The one who got away. The one whom I knew I lusted after the second we met on vid chat. It was mutual. He knew it first before me with the messages he sent on Bumble.
It was a zing. A zang. A feeling of instant regret that I didn’t contact him earlier when I returned to Singapore after seeing his messages. I took my time to reply to him because I couldn’t tell if his hot pics were real or fake. Plus, I was always cautious with the Chinese men after almost being conned.
I told ZJ. He was the main reason why I’m talking to Chinese men here. Because it would be a year before I could meet him again and even when he whispered in my ear that we will find a way to meet and be in contact, I knew those were empty promises just to make me feel better.
I was jaded enough to know that promises made by men on dating apps were just sweet words, like honey-tasting peaches. Juicy good lasts only for a brief moment till the man bites his next fruit.
Founder guy’s lustful excitement fed into mine. For the few minutes we were playing, I was already thinking this could work. I gave him the condom, and he climbed over me with his ass up, and I was in mission position.
Somehow, in the cramped car, we managed to do the deed. He cummed first and waited and watched me masturbate and fingered till I orgasm three more times. It was a fun, sexy experience. I could have gone more because my period had just ended, and I usually had to make up for the days I didn’t get to cum.
“First time he did it in the car in broad daylight. But hey, he initiated it,” I confessed to AM guy.
“Lol yeah. Guys don’t want a major clinger,” AM guy said.
“Bec he hadn’t had sex in 1 year. I wasn’t clinging,” I replied.
“And the moment guys cum, they get post-nut clarity,” said AM guy.
“I just texted him after saying that wasn’t enough. Whhhaatttt? Hahaha post-nut clarity,” I laughed.
“Even during plays I experience that. Like i’m so horny for the girl but after i nut, after the first round i tend to question things. Ask myself questions about why am i doing this, what is the meaning of life, are we alone in the universe.”
“Hahaha. Omg.”
“Anything but related to sex," he said.
“Universe? I know why I’m doing this,” I replied.
“And then I recover, get horny, have the girl suck my cock again and fuck again. Round two.”
“But I do question myself whether I’m too much of a slut. N I hate myself for the pity fucks. I need to stop feeling guilty n sorry.”
Yes. I also need to say, “no” more. When I think of the risks I’m bringing home and to myself, I hate myself more.
Each fuck with a new person should matter. They don’t know this, but I remember each one clearly, and for the guys that count, I remember every detail of when we met and the conversations we had.
They weren’t fuck toys. These were people with whom I shared an experience. I know some didn’t like that I played with many guys, but I could say the same for them.
Unlike the Koreans who spread love words like butter, if I told a guy I liked him, I meant it. It came from a complicated place in my heart, and therefore, it meant something important.
And for those whom I specifically asked to be my FWB, they should know they are special. I didn’t always get the guys I wanted. In fact, rejection is part of the game.
“You are too intense,” said H.
“But you are okay with me,” I replied.
“That’s because I accept all of you and know you very well," he replied.
It’s true. And I should be counting my blessings that I have a few FWBs who did accept me for who I am. Except all of them were not here, each living in a different country or city far away.
Long-distance relationships are tough. Long-distance friends-with-bens are even harder. When in an open relationship, the choices are limitless. There is always a 70:30 chance he would have found a lifetime partner before I could screw him.
Perhaps each meeting was exciting because it could be our last.
By now, I knew someone else who had a post-nut clarity. A Chinese swim guy whom I met the night before I wrote this. We had a good time chatting about all sorts of stuff —youtubing, food, Chinese culture, and then jumping into bed, having some playtime fun.
Swim guy was hot. Twenty-three, totally fit with zero body fat, and swimmer shoulders. It was thrilling to climb on and eat him from the top down. Kisses on his lips and neck, breaths in his ears, and he loved me sucking his nipples, which happened to be one of my favorite things to do.
My hair trailed down his smooth pecs, going lower and lower till my mouth caught his erect dick. I liked taking a cock in one sudden mouthful. Mimicking the jerking movements and following the man’s gasps in time to meet his needs.
Blowjobbing is an art and science. There should be classes on it. With hot horny guys volunteering to be live mannequins. Like nude art, except this could be a science for a sex doll company to study the most natural way of oral sex. What could be better than orgy for a purpose?
Swim guy and I didn’t go all the way. Mother Nature decided to visit right then, changing sex to tteokbokki, and it was after that he had his post-nut clarity.
I could see the change instantly wiping over his face. “I never used a condom before,” said Swim guy. “The feeling is not the same.”
“Oh…” I replied. Thinking back to our convos before, he said he had lots of sex for many years. All without condoms?
“I had a stable relationship, and she was on birth control. It’s hard to have sex without it, and now I use condoms. It will take some getting used to.”
It was his nice way of saying this ‘us’ was a ‘maybe-not’. Post-nut clarity. Though he didn’t nut. The effects were the same.
“Have you had post-nut clarity?” I asked H.
“Post-nut clarity?” H said. “Why would I do that?”
“Do you ever regret doing it?” I watched H clean up his wardrobe.
The year and half of yolo-ing has changed H as much as I had changed. Both of us not only went through a social life transformation, we also went through a physical transformation. I lost more than twenty pounds in a year and he became more toned. His fashion style was more sleek and Japanese-y and so he was donating the old and packing in the new.
“It’s like eating a bagel,” H said.
“Bagel? Not donut?” I asked. “Aren’t sprinkles and flavors good?”
“No. Sex is like a bagel. Mundane. A process you take,” H said.
He wasn’t the first person to describe sex this way. Two other guys said sex was just another form of exercise. I wondered if more guys thought this way. Maybe I need to do a survey.
I was always seeking for a big explosion. The next big sexy high. The mind-numbing feeling of sex buzz. Since I was neither drunk nor doing drugs, this was the closest I got to an addiction.
“Okay, so bagel,” I said. “So you don’t regret anything?”
“No,” H said. “And I don’t regret it, but I know you do.”
“Why?”
“You are too impulsive,” H said.
Yes…and too greedy and too horny. I had many flaws and things to do better next time. To me, life is about a series of lessons to find yourself.
Yes, case and point, this time it was I who had the post-cum clarity.
With great power comes great responsibility, and so, with great passion comes great regret?
Maybe not.
Without power, I couldn’t save the world, but I’d definitely remember that night a hot, sexy guy and I almost tried to rock the Universe.