Singapore sex

Two thoughts.

The first is that I’ve realised I pull my punches in Singapore. In London if I got to a point in a conversation that referenced my relationship I just said it. Open. Poly. Any questions? I didn’t always expect people to understand, but I always gave them a chance.

Here I back away from those moments, leave things unsaid. I guess I’ve done that since I arrived, but lately it’s bothering me. For a start, it isn’t fair to assume I know how somebody else will react – if it’s something I would normally talk about I ought to give people the opportunity to decide for themselves how they feel about it.

Also it isn’t fair to my relationship. Its structure is integral to its function, fucking other people isn’t some post-script or whimsy. It’s completely who we are and how we are, and it sucks to deny that.

Since I’ve realised I’m trying to speak up more. I don’t think I’m going to revolutionise Singapore (read the comments under this piece for a sad and accurate picture of how this country feels about sex) but at least I can be true to myself.

My second thought is about my libido. Dear sweet suffering fuck I am horny lately. Like, teenaged horny. The rain turns me on, the heat turns me on. I watched a woman threading eyebrows yesterday and it turned me on. Jesus, even getting accidentally burned with a cigarette turned me on.

It’s getting a bit ridiculous. I spend half my time at work wanking in the toilets, and the rest fantasising about being fucked against walls by strangers. I want to screw everyone I meet. And yet, and yet… I don’t seem to be screwing anyone. How is it possible to live with a partner and be this horny and not be fucking constantly.

J is all about sex in some senses. He’s more honest here about our relationship because he’s not afraid to ask people to come home with us. But it’s so psychological for him – the thrill of the chase, the victory of winning someone over. It’s linear, finite. He’s not the kind of guy who walks around with a permanent semi.

At the moment the permanent semi is mine and it’s driving me crazy. M reckons it’s the weather. Maybe she’s right; it’s been really stormy and sultry lately. But maybe it’s my age – I think woman are supposed to reach their sexual peak in their 30s. Dear god, if this carries on I’ll have wanked myself into an asylum before 40.

I would go for a cold shower right now, but it would probably just turn me on.

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