Mrs Boo - 30 Lifer Crisis

Mr Boo has this frequent Mandarin saying: “Fertile water should not flow into other people’s fields”. What this means basically is that he does not like me to dress too sexily and to expose too much skin as it may attract unwanted attention from the men out there. The wonders of my sacred body should be confined within the four walls of the bedroom (any bedroom). Mr Boo is conservative in that manner. As am I for different reasons (no good body, no exposure).

While on our vacation in Phuket, we went snorkelling around Phi Phi islands (or rather I did, while Mr Boo stayed on the boat - he was a worse swimmer than me). Although I am a crap swimmer, I swore that I had to see the coral reefs and fishes for myself. So for much of the time, with my life jacket securely strapped on, I hung on for dear life on the rope attached to the speedboat, and got my first glimpses of underwater life (beautiful by the way). At that time, I was wearing a bikini, and the fact that I did not have the most fullsome breasts on earth meant that the bikini was not too secure. Added to the fact that the waves were very strong at that time meant disaster was about to happen. And so it did.

As I stepped up onto the boat, the above combination of factors shifted the top out of place, and out popped a breast.

Oops, wardrobe malfunction.

Mr Boo was stunned. Thankfully only he and one of the local guides who helped me up witness this momentous event. Hurriedly, but as nochalantly as I could, I covered up. Mr Boo turned red (embarrassment, not anger), but I was relatively ok. I was more grateful for the fact that the bunch of Caucasians who were with us, especially the well-endowed ladies did not see my disgrace. Imagine them thinking, “Huh, so small???”

This was not the first time it happened.

During our last trip to Bali with our gay pals S & J - the same thing happened while we were swimming (in the case of Mr and I - floating) in the luxurious pools in Ritz Carlton. When my nipple popped out accidentally, three pairs of eyes were staring at me. Mr Boo looked horrified and looked as if he did not know whether to lunge over and cover the offending tit (with his hand) or pretend that nothing happened. J looked vaguely disgusted but started giggling, and whispered something to S (hopefully not pointing out the mole on my tit). Strangely enough, I was calm and cool even though this was the first time someone else other than Mr Boo saw my sacred nipples, and went about leisurely adjusting the damn bikini (same one) back to the right place. Afterall, unlikely that either S or J would be titillated by my tits right? S confirmed my suspicions with his next words. After staring for a while, he burst out.

“Is that all? My nipples are much bigger than yours!” He started heaving his monstrous chest and played with his jiggly breasts.

Indeed, his nipples (and breasts) were substantially larger than mine.

And I don’t know if I should be amused or offended.

P.S Mr Boo thinks I should change the bikini. But I don’t think I would be going swimming anywhere anytime soon……

Ok, I suppose I draw the line at those below 18 (or the minimum 17) years of age. Anything younger than that they are just smelly, loud, pimply and sweaty specimens. In the States there have been cases of female teachers in their 20s sleeping with their 12 and 13 year old male students, claiming to be “in love” with them. One of them, a very notorious personality whom I forgot the name, even went on to have two children with this student! Although the story went on to have a “happy” ending: she came out of jail, he came of age, and they got married…..

Everyone now - ewwwwww!

Now onto my fascination with youth of the opposite sex. When I was younger, ok much younger, i.e. in my teens, there used to be this hot pop boyband known as “New Kids on the Block”. The older people here - does that ring any bells?? Boybands, in whatever era are almost always the same - they have the same stereotypical group members like the sexy lead singer, the bad boy, the plain nice guy, and the young cutie. All my schoolmates were crazy over the sexy lead singer or the bad boy, but I was oh, so in love with the young cutie aka Joey McIntyre. That innocence, that boyishness sent tingles to my toes. In fact, throughout my school years, mature men did nothing for me, guys with boyish looks to me were hotter. My crushes on stars also showed similar patterns. But that was ok then - I was still younger than most of them.

Now, I thought that I have grown out of this taste/preference. Afterall, I lurrve Brad Pitt and Keanu Reeves (both already in their early 40s), and in the East there is the manly Bae Yong Jun to tug my heartstrings. (But I must still say that Sean Connery and Harrison Ford do nothing to me - they are like grandfathers!)

But horror of horrors! In recent times, I have noticed that I have started oogling men in their early twenties with unholy and lustful thoughts. Currently in my home country, they are holding this singing talent show, similar to American Idol. There is this male cutie, 20 years of age, with big shining eyes, and oh so cute dimples (and he sings very well too). I was in a rage when he was kicked out of the competition. When he gazed longingly on the screen, I want to coo “Come to Mummy!!” When he burst into tears after he was eliminated, I wanted to hug him to my bosom…..

Everyone now - ewwwwwww!

Of course, then now I am obsessed with this Korean singer/actor Rain, whose youthful 23-year old body now adorns my blog and has the distinction of being the first male that I have uploaded a picture of. As I have mentioned before he has such a childish face placed atop a man’s body, this man-child is soooooo titillating! I’m playing his CD in the car all the time, not understanding a single Korean word except “Sarang-e” (i.e. I love you”). I think Mr Boo is getting fed-up.

So frightening, this fascination with men 7-10 years younger than me (for NOW). I wonder, if I will continue this obsession with young men even when I am 60, 70, 80?? Like Elizabeth Taylor? That would certainly be of pedophilic proportions. Imagine, myself as a 65 year old granny, cooing to a 20-something hotie and screaming “I love you! You are my hero! You’re cute!” etc. So bloody embarrassing.

This (the Elizabeth Taylor syndrome) probably also explains why I married Mr Boo. Yes, while he is older than me by 1.5 years, he looks far younger than his age. Coming to 32 now, and he looks like 25. Many people have mistaken him as my younger brother (now where is that plastic surgeon of mine!?!?!?). He is also not the most mature man on earth and I, sad to say, enjoy hen-pecking him.

But what happens when Mr Boo finally gets wrinkles and sags like normal people?! Well, I guess there are still younger saplings in the woods, ripe for picking….hehe

Mr Boo and I have an unusally large number of gay (not happy, homosexual) friends. Whether by chance or some unholy intervention, our immediate circle of male friends are all gay. Some we knew since university days, others we knew through close friends/colleagues, and yet another group comprised of old friends who came out of the rainbow closet. And of course when gay friends introduced their boyfriends to you, they too, become our good friends. All of them clamouring to become the “fairy” god-fathers of my unfertilised and unborn child/children.

So my country is small, and the gay community in my country smaller (but thriving), so that probably explains why all my gay friends know one another. One happy coincidence saw Mr Boo’s old college friend (who came out of the closet, and shocked Mr Boo, although he claimed he suspected his sexual leanings all along), hooking up with an ex-colleague of mine. They have now been together for years, and have bought a private apartment near our home. We have become the unofficial “caretakers” of their home and fishes when both are jet-setting around the world.

Another couple, let’s call them S & J, are Mr Boo’s and mine favourite travelling partners. Thus far, we have been to Bangkok, Egypt (my favourite holiday ever!) and Bali. Because our anniversaries are quite close too (in early August), we have also been celebrating them together for the past 3 years by staying in luxury hotels in the country. They are hilariously funny and we get on famously. S is also a great shopping partner, better than many of my girlfriends actually!

Being surrounded by gay friends is like submerging oneself in a constant bitchfest party. Vicious bitches, these gay people, but they are fun, and I like to bitch too. And it is such an eye opener each time they tell me about their sex lives, their Thai boyfriends, and god knows what other titillating nonsense. They also educate me on how to satisfy Mr Boo, and I must say their tricks work too!! One of them, a closet transvestite, who used to park his female clothes. wigs and make-up at my house, also taught me some make-up secrets, and how to look really vampy (although I never really tried to vamp things up - what for right? All I need is to throw off my clothes and Mr Boo will be hmmm… UP.).

My close association with the gay fraternity has allowed me to refine my “Gaydar”, so much so that I can tell if a man on the street is gay or not. Of course, my “Gaydar” has failed me occasionally too - I thought a colleague was gay but he had a girlfriend!!! But maybe he is a closet - so I may still be right after all. But until then, I shall continue to work towards perfecting my “Gaydar”.

I must state here though that while I am religious - and according to God’s Word, homosexuality is perverted and un-natural - I do not judge my gay friends nor do I try to convert them back to the “straight road”. Ultimately, only they can answer to God. Some though might accuse my closeness with them as a sign of approving their lifestyles, and if that’s the case, I am guilty as sin. I really, truly enjoy their company, and I am confident God does not hold it against me.

So today I ask you: Are you Gay? (P.S. I have no lesbian friends, so if you are lesbian, feel free to drop me a note here!)

Dear Fellow Friends Seeking Orgasmic Orgasms

Since my titillating post has garnered a number of comments, I feel the pressing need to write a part two to clarify certain questions and also to help friends in need.

Why 468 times (now it is 470 times if I am counting….)??? - well it is REALLY an educated guess, I suppose. I have been married like what 5 years? Supposing I have only sex twice a week for 52 consecutive weeks (or taking out the week for periods it is 36 weeks) we will have the number 360. In view that I was far more active in my first two years of marriage and the fact that I was already sexually active before marriage (yes, naughty, naughty) - the number 468 is actually quite a conservative number….

Is there such a thing as a G-spot? Really I don’t know. Throughout those climaxes I have I can tell the difference between a “clitorial” climax and a “penetrative” climax (and yes they are different). I have No idea if I ever had a G-spot climax, or if it exists for that matter. The thing is, reaching the pinnacle is a great enough experience for me - I don’t feel the need to find the Shangrila of all orgasms, and frankly I am too lazy to do a scientific study on where the damn thing is anyway!!

How can women in general have more orgasms? Other than the suggestions that I have in my first post, I think we as a gender should feel less guilty that we are enjoying ourselves. It is our right. God made us this way, gave us the necessary instruments and nerve points so that we can hit the Big “O”. There is nothing dirty about this. Orgasmic sex is very relaxing, especially after a really tensed and stressful workday. You just want to f**k your brains out and not think about anything terrible.

While I have been very successful in reaching the top, the road there is not always easy. When you are randy and its the right time in your cycle, everything falls into place. Sometimes you are stressed up, timing is not right, and you feel dry and haggard and your brain is thinking about that unclosed sale rather than the naked man in front of you - you can bet your bottom dollar that it takes MASSIVE effort to reach that goal. There are times on such occasions that I think, maybe I shouldn’t bother, one less orgasm won’t kill me, its too tedious, and I should just hurry up so that everything is over and we can both sleep. But then a voice tells me - why are you denying yourself the pleasure?? I should get something out of this! And then I will cast everything aside and strive towards the end - and there you go.

Routine kills sex. Really it does. I look at Mr Boo and think, “Man, I have got to have sex with the same man for the next 50 years! Can I do it?” At 5 years it sometimes feel robotic, we are DOING IT for the sake of DOING IT. But then, you remind yourself why you love this man, and that we do have good sex, and we try different places in the house, and different kama sutra styles, and it brings the fire back.

I hope this answers some questions, and if ever I have more “insights” I’ll be sure to pass on to you!

Titillating title, isn’t it? Since no one has responded to my “Who is out there reading my blog?”, I have decided to up the ante and discuss something more scintillating…. :O

I have always read, be it in the newspapers or female magazines, that women don’t always come when they have sex, in fact the majority don’t have a 100% climatic record. These surveys disturb me deeply.

Out of the 468 times that I had have sex with Mr Boo, I came 468 times. I kid you not - I don’t remember NOT climaxing even A SINGLE time. A perfect, stainless (pardon the pun), record. I am not kidding, I am not boasting or exaggerating - this is completely and utterly true.

Of course, not all orgasms are equal. 30% are nice (but shortlived) shimmers, 50% medium sized but very satisfactory tremours and 20% out of the world erotica type explosions.

So what explains this unbelievable record? Here are my reasons:

1. Sexual awareness from young
This does not mean that I lost my virginity eons ago (only when I was with my hubby!). Rather sexual awareness or awareness of sex means that I knew all about sex very young, as I was an avid reader of trash since I was 12. Since most thrashy books are extremely descriptive and also an utter and complete fantasy, I grew up thinking that all women SHOULD climax - I mean, why shouldn’t they, even those virginal heroines have out of this world orgasms (and of course all credit to our tall, dark and handsome heros).
I am also a very curious creature, hence I started masturbating quite young too - so I have read, heard, tried orgasms - hence they come to me very easily (oops or rather I COME very easily).

2. An unselfish and patient lover
Mr Boo is an excellent lover - compared to the crap I read about on real life bastards who think only of their own satisfaction - Mr Boo is top of the world prime material and one fine stud in bed. He makes darn sure that I am satisfied, and very much satisfied. In fact, we are now so well co-ordinated that we can come together! Talk about combustible chemistry…

3. Total lack of inhibitions
I try EVERYTHING. Not all positions are successful, most positions are not conducive to producing orgasms, but try everything once. Practice really makes perfect, and a marriage makes it even more so! (so NAH, I am NOT advocating “slutiness” or loose sexual behaviour).

So if you are envious of my untarnished record, don’t be - try the above. If you need more advice, you know where to find me!!