Holiday Meat Market

Maybe I was too tired to think straight. But then I don’t want to make excuses. I’ve toyed with the idea before and it was only a matter of time before I give in. I gave in. I paid someone for sex.

It was rather uneventful, really. Just a matter of kisses here and there. Nobody got inside anybody although he did “try” to give me head. And now, I feel quite bothered. No, I don’t feel guilty. I had a hunch that he too was gay and that he actually enjoyed what we did. I didn’t feel as if I took advantage of him. Quite the contrary, he had the better end of the bargain: sex with money to boot. What bothers me is that I’m nonchalant about the whole matter. Yep, the whole process of getting there was quite exciting: making the call at one in the morning, asking how much he charged, and waiting. Ah, the waiting. But once there, it became just a routine. I simply went through the motions. And all the while I thought my inner bossy self would surface since the ball (no pun intended, really) was in my court. But no! As I’ve said, it was uneventful and I… was nonchalant.

After that, I went straight to the office and struggled through a dizzying headache. But wait, there’s more. Since everyone left earlier than I did, I had the gall to have some phone fun with a random guy. I did it in my cubicle, not knowing that the guard on duty was already making his rounds. Again, I simply didn’t care. I was either too tired to think about him catching me or I was in full-gear denial mode. I was whispering over the phone right? How could he possibly hear me? And things don’t end there. My slutty self seemed to be on panic-buying mode to reach the year’s quota. I had another casual hook up with some guy before going home. Again, it was uneventful. Nobody got inside anybody, and with that the guy called me... corny.

I don’t know what’s happening to me. I guess Darc is turning nympho. But what do I make of my nonchalance? Maybe I’m no longer THAT interested in sex . Or maybe I’m missing out on something that’s why even if I keep plugging myself into these encounters, I feel zilch, zero, nada. Or maybe finally, I’ve come to terms with the fact that sex is just sex. Nothing more, nothing less. It’s no big deal, really.

Weird, is it even logical to turn nympho because I’ve lost interest in sex?

Well, on the bright side, at least I’d be a good boyfriend. My partner need not worry if I’d sneak behind his back for some unfaithful tryst… but then, he’d have to sustain my sexual appetite. Hay, the things I think about on New Year’s Eve. Honestly, I just wanted to write it down so that I could leave it behind and jump into the New Year with a clean slate.

And with that, I say… case closed.