40 Day Challenge: Day 27. Sexy Shenanigans from Jeane (The Number Four woman)

This is the latest Anti-Masturbation Crusade update. I'm considering joining the Junior Anti-Sex League mentioned in George Orwell's 1984. It couldn't possibly worsen my chances of getting laid.

You know, I'm not going to pretend anymore that this is me going forty days without sex. In reality, this is actually me going forty days without jerking-off. 'Sex' has never been a factor- ten days ago, you saw how Chelsea decided to cut me off, didn't you? Now there's no chance of sex at all from any women in my life period. Unless I pay for a prostitute, which I don't intend to do.

Well, ten days left until the end. At risk of grossing some of you out, let me tell you that I'm really looking-forward to midnight, March 3rd.

Oh yeah, like you wouldn't.

And... of course, I haven't had to face any real-life sexy shenanigans.

Which is a shame because I love being on the receiving-end of sexy shenanigans. (I also love over-using the word 'shenanigans' too.) You know, when I was growing-up through my really hormonally-turgid point of my life I often fantasized about having women come-on to me. I think every guy fantasizes about that- that's probably why it gets portrayed so often in popular culture? That was one of my big turn-ons. I dunno, it must stem from a mutation in the limbic part of my nervous system or something but I really like it when (er... if, actually) a woman would wrap her arms around me, tousle my hair and make little sexually-tilted comments in my ear. As if that would ever happen in real life outside a strip-joint. I'm sure it happens all the time for some guys- but I'll bite that it's almost exclusively the top 5% of guys.

Case in point: I was at a bar downtown the other night... and half the local pro-hockey team decided to come-in. They were wearing very fine-tailored suits as part of a professional image they want to cultivate in public; but they stood-out like sore thumbs because everyone else was dressed pretty-much casually- that and they were local celebrities anyway. Naturally, the women were going nuts. They were surging forward and asking the hockey-pricks to autograph their breasts, asking to sit in their laps, etc. The female bartender persuaded one of them to take-off his shirt, stand-on the bar and pour-out shots for the women. Which he did, as the gals screamed and swooned and tried to reach-up and grab his heavily-tattooed visage. All the while, I'm inwardly wishing the bar would suddenly go-up in a fireball with everyone inside it. I seriously wanted to light-off a nuclear warhead over the downtown area just so I could take all these hooting bitches to hell with me.
The team-members were mostly on their best behavior (probably because some of the coaches were there with them.) But if these hockey players decided to grab ten asses apiece, the ass-owners would scream in delight. If I grabbed so much as one ass, she'd make me eat the nearest ashtray.

Anyway, if you remember the summer I spent in Taiwan, one of the things that made Jeane so addictive to me was because she was awesome at pulling little sexy shenanigans on me. I loved her sexy little pranks. As I mentioned in the article where I introduced her to you, she dripped with sex. She drove me nuts. Her smile was like getting a hit of heroin. Which is really sort of shameful for me, as my heart wanted to be with the other woman I was seeing at the time (Jianglin).

One Friday afternoon, I came to meet her at her office in one of the business districts of Taipei. I stepped-off the elevator and walked-in to the suite lobby. I asked the receptionist to page Jeane; several minutes later she walks into the lobby, smiling at me in the special way I always craved. She was wearing a white blouse and a grey knee-length skirt. And a push-up bra. She also had the most perfect shade of lipstick you've ever seen. The sight of her involuntarily gave me a head rush.

"Hello. Glad to see you." She turned around and looked over her shoulder. "You can come to my office." She was showing-off her English in front of the attractive receptionist, who spoke no English at all. As she led me, I admired the shape of her taut, little rump as it was hugged by her skirt. She swayed her hips suggestively as she walked.

We rounded a corner, I noticed the women's restroom was on her left. She pushed-open the door and gestured for me to come with her. I followed her in, she stepped-over to the sink. God, she was giving-off some kind of secret radiation that was driving me batshit-loony with desire.

"Wo jiu xiang mo nide pigu..." (I so wanna touch your butt...) I smiled as my fingertips glided over the rear of her skirt.

Smiling back at me, she jerked her derriere away as she ran her hands under the sink's faucet for a few seconds. As she snatched a small paper-towel to dry-off, Jeane turned-around and brought her face very close to mine. She gently pushed me towards the tiled wall with one red-nailed finger.

"Such a cute stud I have... grrrr!" She made a little animal noise as she gritted her teeth and made a biting motion at me. (I don't know where she picked-up the word 'stud'. Probably some foreign TV show.) "Chi wanfan yi hou..." (After we have dinner...) She brought her right hand around to rest on my expanding crotch. "Yaobuyao... shufu yidian?" (Do you want to get... a little more comfortable?)

You bet your sweet bippy, I do! You can imagine my tongue unfurling like a carpet across the floor about now. I sucked air through my teeth as my pulse-rate quickened. "Wo yao. Zhende." (I want to. Really.) I slid my hands around her back and kissed her forehead; I didn't want to ruin her lipstick. I pulled her close to me.

"Mmmm... ni diyici tuole yifu de shihou-" (Mmmm... the first time you took-off your clothes-) She said. "Wo zhen jingyade faxianle ni you ge... hen da de jiji!" (I was really surprised to discover you had a... very big dick!) She used her most feminine, sultry voice as she said this. Whoa, I think the top of my skull just blew-off just then. God, I love it when a woman speaks Mandarin. It sounds soooo sweet and sexy at the same time.

"You're going to kill me..." I said breathily. It also felt titillatingly dangerous to have the possibility of someone walking-in on us.

"Ooh, I love him so much..." She cooed in English as she rubbed my throbbing member. She sure knew how to stroke my ego- and stroke something else, too obviously... my knees were getting weak from what she was doing. If there wasn't such a risk of someone coming-in the restroom, I'd probably have thrown her onto the nearest flat surface and ripped-off all my clothes.

"Oh, Christ..." I panted. "Gen ni..." (And you...) I began to tremble, feeling the tingling pressure build down-south as I let my hands roam around her back. "Wo tiantian wangbuliao ni..." (Everyday, I can't get you out of my mind...) Bah, trying to speak another language in a state of severe arousal is taxing on your vocab and grammatical recollection. I slid my hands around to her front in an attempt to unbutton her blouse. She pulled away teasingly and made a mock-surprise facial expression.

"Bie mo!" (Don't touch!) She wrinkled her nose, shook her head and made the universal 'no-no, what kind of girl do you think I am?' gesture by shaking her index finger back and forth. Jeane resumed drying-off her hands with the towel. "Come to my office and we'll go. Look-after your 'front-tail'." Smiling coquettishly, she walked-out of the restroom.

I snickered at her use of the words 'front-tail'. That's a very original way of referring to- I looked-down- there was a damp stain on the front of my jeans. I chuckled to myself, embarrassed. Oooh, she didn't dry her hands very much before... hmm... wait a sec... I have a funny feeling she did that on purpose.

I frantically looked-around for something to cover myself with. There was a Hong Kong gossip magazine in the wastebasket. I grabbed it and held it in front of me as I ducked-out of the women's bathroom. Down the hall, Jane was peeking-out of a doorway, she winked at me cheekily.

Very cute. I couldn't help but smile.

I walked-in to her office; magazine conspicuously in front. There were two desks in the office. Jane sat-down behind her desk, and I noticed a second, bespectacled woman whom I didn't recognize.

Jane gestured to her. "Ta jiao Ailing." (She's called Ailing.)

Ailing said hello.

Jane smiled mysteriously. "NiceGuy, qing ni gei wo neige zazhi." (NiceGuy, please hand me that magazine...) Her face showed that she was barely able to contain her laughter. My face turned crimson.

"Oh, wo zhengzai hai kankan." (Oh, I'm still reading it right now.) I sat-down on her desk and began to chuckle too.

"Nimen weishenme xiao?" (Why are you laughing?) Ailing asked, clearly unaware what was going on.

"Oh, jiu shi zamen de mimi de xiaohua." (Oh, it's just our secret joke.) I replied to her.

Yes, That Still Makes me Grin

Yes, memories like this and others are among the few things that prevent me from turning into an even more bitter husk of a human being. If it wasn't for her, I'd probably be a helluva lot more mean-spirited towards women in general. Oh, and after dinner that night, we got comfortable. (Wink!) Shenanigans are always best when the woman doesn't use the opportunity to wheedle stuff out of you only to leave you stiffed at the end of the evening. (Pun intended.)

It feels nice to be desired. Seriously, women rant about how awful it is to be treated as a sex object. Well, being treated as a sex object once in a while isn't quite so bad. I really don't see what the problem is. I think many guys would be flattered to be looked-at by women as sex objects. If women overtly wolf-whistled while checking-out my ass, I wouldn't be offended at all. I'd be like: "stop whistling and grab a handful if you like it!"

So... do you think I'll be able to go thirteen more days without having women throw themselves at me in fits of screaming passion? Yeah, I think so, too.

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"I got flowers from a woman once. It turns out she was part of this contest to find the most pathetic guy she could take to a dance. *Nervous laugh* They called it a 'pig-dance'......... ahem........... we won." -- Stephen Root as Bill Dauterive, "King of the Hill".

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