The Kept Woman

I'm Not 100% sure about the new quick compose on Typepad... Just arrived in Shanghai and I'm looking forward to a week of shopping, hotel sex and nice bars.

What are you doing this week?

Beauty

It is on the nature of beauty that I found myself pondering whilst lying on the beauticians bed.

As one foot pointed skyward and the other knee towards the wall and the charming Miss S slathered boiling hot wax onto a very tender and sensitive part of my anatomy I thought:

"What the fuck am I doing?"

You see whilst I love most of the palaver that comes with beauty (manicures, pedicures, facials, massages, blow dries, blow outs, hair cuts, hair colours, the magazines, the wait, the idea that everyone in that room is focused on me) I hate, loath and abhor getting waxed. HATE IT. I would love to be living in the 70's when a bush was all you needed to gain access to rude society. I hate that now, generations of men brought up on the porn industry illusion of anal sex and pre-pubescent waxed smooth lady bits, think that anything other than nude is somehow dirty.

You know me, you know me. I love playing games. I love the thrill, the chase, the role play, the "who shall I be today?" I loved getting my hair blown out so that it's all big and blonde. I love feeling feminine and sexy and being a girl. I love feeling like Barbie. But I hate feeling like Barbie down there. It's too sexless, too crude, and I can always hear an ex boyfriend of mine telling me how he hated Brazilian waxes because they always make a woman look like a plucked chicken. I remember him shaking his head gently and saying in a soft but sad voice "wattle."

Ughghhhhhhhh...

So why do I do it? Why do I present myself to the tortures bed every month and smile and chat as I remove my knickers and assume the position?

I don't really have an answer to be honest apart from the fact that there doesn't seem to feel like there's any other option. How sad is that?

The Men and I

I love and hate crashing boys bonding. I'm not quite sure what it is as it seems to embrace the masculine and feminine part of my personality. There's the part of me that openly rolls its eyes when someone cracks a sexist joke (normally I would laugh along too - if it's funny). There's the part that comments on the outstandingly hot door bitch. Yes, it brings out my yin and yang.

I think it always depends on the men.

Years and years ago I went to a sporting event and happened to be the only female. Men attempted to shun Alpha for "ruining" the fun by bringing me and I kept my mouth shut apart from to comment on the general "look at those 32Cs" when I would chip in with a "C? C? Cant you recognise a good DD when you see it?" or "C? C? Can't you recognise a nipple on ribs with a good bra when you see it?"

I was appreciated by the end of the event if only for my talent at spotting "false advertising."

Any way, tonight was another story. Alpha and I had been invited to dinner followed by watching a match at a local bar. We knew other couples supposedly going so I happily scruffed down and got ready to pop over.

We walked in and there was this quiet silence when everyone realised that I was the only female... and none of the other women were there. Then EVERY male recounted a story of how his wife was either at home with the kids or would rather taser herself then come to dinner with "the lads." They then all looked at me like, so why the fuck are you here?

Luckily at least 3 of them were perfect gentlemen and made sure that I wasn't sat alone or ostracized or ignored. Like a good little girl I should say that as soon as dinner was over I did run so that they could enjoy drinking and shouting at the TV in peace.

Bless them.

Winter's Here

It is freeeeeeezing outside. It's been quite half heartedly snowing for the past week but today Winter hit Beijing. I had some errands to run and spent most of the day outside in my thickest coat, ear muffs on, scarf muffling face and hand shoved in pockets. The ground was a dirty slush and it insidiously found its way into boots and socks. I was genuinely concerned that I would lose a toe to frostbite.

Nothing much to report on the sex front. Boring I know, you're just here for the bonking, but with weather like this - and the central heating still not turned on - a Kept Woman can hardly stand getting naked solo. Mind you, at least with a sparing partner you would have someone to keep you warm.

I'm half stuck between being desperate to go out and have fun and staying inside with huge bowls of soup.

What do you get up to when it's cold outside?

AWOL

Ah so here come the apologies. I have been writing. I have written in months. There are a number of pretty good excuses that I could give and all are true:

- I've been totally unable to get onto TypePad.

- I still cant get on to The Kept Woman

- I've been traveling.

- Twitter is blocked here too.

Ok yes so they just feel like excuses to me to.

The truth of the matter is that I've felt bored, isolated, lost. I didn't love the summer of 2009. I felt disconnected from everyone, especially Alpha. We seemed to have guests constantly and both Alpha and I were away. We were rarely in the same city let alone bed. It was depressing. The Frenchman was also away, dealing with a family death in France. Men lost their allure, friends felt stale and I had lost my luster.

What has caused me to change back to the old Kept Woman? I'm not sure to be truthful. I feel brighter, lighter. I'm back into my old routine, I'm going out, seeing people, going to the gym, feeling healthy. It feels like a new start.

Maybe it's just the beginning of winter. I love winter. I love the cold, clear days and the dark, frosty nights. I love being able to wear boots and putting on layers. I love gloves, hats and scarves. I love the parties, the dinners, the wine. Summer in Beijing has never really thrilled me. I hate the heat, the pollution, the sweat, the gloom of mucky pollutants covering what should be a beautiful day.

Summer in England is another story altogether though.

No, here's to winter and a fresh start. Here's to writing again and feeling like my old self. Here's to feeling alive again.

I'm going out to dinner tonight with my two closest friends and Alpha is back from London.

Here's to old friends and old lovers... and new ones too.

Lancelot Betrays His Feelings - an old post

I should tell you a dirty little secret of mine... shhh... let me come closer and whisper it into your ear. Can you feel the tips of my fingers gently touching the shell of your ear? Can you feel my lips against your skin? Are you sure that I'm doing it by accident or am I brushing feather light kisses against your ear on purpose?

Now, to secrets and darker things.

Lancelot (the Idiot as was) wants me.

The weather was cold which, when still in the middle of summer, always makes me long for winter. I took advantage of the cool weather and sat outside a coffee shop over near SoHo. I should say, I took advantage of the fact that the cool weather meant that sitting outside was bearable. Hoody, jeans, flip-flops, hair thrown up in a bun and a scant hint of makeup on my face. This is as much of a dirty secret as Lancelot is - I love to dress down when I think no one will see me. Alpha and the Frenchman are away and there are precious few others whose opinions I crave. Alpha likes me to look my best because he loves me and wants to be proud of me, the Frenchman because, well, he's French. He doesn't understand ill groomed women.

So, to the coffee shop. I was sitting and tapping away at my computer whilst the world slid on around me. I ignored any admiring looks - not so many when I'm incognito - and glared down the one man who came over to say hi.

That was when I heard laughter and someone calling my name from the table across from me. I looked up, annoyed at the interruption.

There, of course, was Lancelot. As fresh and pink as any knight in shining armor he exuded good-natured boyish enthusiasm and hope. Arrogant and faithless, he looked like any other handsome young puppy thrilled with his life and his own good fortune. It was enough to make a Kept Woman sick.

"I wasn't sure it was you but when you gave that guy a look which said "eat shit and die" I knew it must be. What did he ever do to you?" Lancelot grabbed his coffee and the books from his table, came over and sat across from me.

"He sat down uninvited," I said, giving him my best "eat shit and die" look. I do hate being interrupted when I'm writing.

He laughed but didn't move. Gosh, we're all good friend here, I thought.

"Ah! You wound me. I thought we were friends now?"

Right then, I thought, friends it is.

I smiled widely and slapped my laptop shut, hoping everything would auto-save.

"Of course, darling, I'm always thrilled by your company." I assume he missed my sarcasm as he didn't bite.

"What are you writing? I thought you didn't work?"

"Oh, I don't," I replied. "I'm just sending emails."

"You looked pretty intense just to be writing emails."

"Why, how would you know? Were you watching me?" He smiled, still enjoying himself.

"I was watching the pretty blond in the dark glasses. Like I said, I didn't know it was you until just now."

"Pretty hey?" I purred at him, trying to keep my voice friendly and not too flirtatious.

"Very. I've never seen you like this before. It's a breath of fresh air to see you looking so down to earth. It suits you."

I tried not to sneer at him when he said that. Like I could ever be attracted to a man who wanted me to be the girl next door. Mind you, I've played just about every other role that has been consciously or unconsciously thrust on me- eager virgin, strict teacher, playful minx, naughty student, vicious whore- girl next door can't be too much of a leap.

I did my best to let him see a side of me that doesn't exist over the next few hours. I was playful and fun, I rested my feet on the chair opposite me, I relaxed, I wouldn't let him buy me more than one drink but insisted on standing my round. I laughed and teased and spoke "honestly" about my life. He was practically panting by the time the day was more than half gone. If I had realized that all he wanted was Miss Average I could have done it months ago.

We got on to talking about movies when he started telling me about one he had seen recently. I pretended I didn't know it and said I would look for it next time I was at the DVD store.

"Don't be silly, I probably won't watch it again. Why don't you come and get it from mine? Better yet we could watch it together."

I looked doubtfully at him, looking at my watch as if I had somewhere else to be.

"Come on, it will be fun. We can bum about on the sofa and just watch the movie." I prevaricated, making half excuses and making him all the more eager for me. Plus I had a little inward snigger at the thought of bumming about on the sofa.

He badgered and cajoled and I found myself getting bundled out of my seat and into a cab over to his. I sat demurely away from him and watched the Beijing traffic stretch out and contract in an endless concertina of cars, bikes and buses.

He prattled on happily in the car. A steady stream of gentle noise his voice bubbled around me. I let me mind drift until we arrived at what I shall loosely call his apartment.

I was led in and popped on the sofa with a cup of tea.

School boy error by the way, never give a girl your attempting to make a move on a hot beverage. It's too much of a barrier and you run the risk of skin burns if you get too fresh and she tips it over you. No, stick to water, wine and other drinks that wont ruin your weekend if it ends up in your lap.

The DVD was on and the air-conditioning ramped up high. I almost laughed. This was the trick he had used to get me into bed with him last time. I counted from zero in my head. I hadn't quite got to seventy when he suggested grabbing the duvet from his bed in case I was cold.

"Don't worry," I said cheerfully, "I'm absolutely fine."

He tried not to look put out.

I counted up again from zero.

41, 42, 43...

"I might go and get the duvet for myself, I'm feeling a little chilly."

"Oh don't worry about me! Just turn the AC off and you'll be fine."

Slight pause.

"I wouldn't want to put you out. I would rather you were comfortable."

"Don't be silly. We should turn it off, do our bit for the environment."

Longer pause.

We sat quietly for a while and I could almost hear his brain whirring as he tried to think of another way to get me under the duvets and cuddled up.

He went and turned the AC off and I smiled sunnily as he came back and sat in the center of the sofa, far closer to me than he had been.

We watched the movie in silence again.

He shifted in his seat, feigning discomfort so he could slide closer.

I pressed my lips together to prevent myself from smiling.

How was he going to manage this, I thought. I decided I would have to help him along, at least a little. I pulled my hoodie off, revealing a tight white wife-beater that clung carefully to my curves. Then I reached forward to the coffee table to check from messages on my phone all the while being careful to give him a nice view down my top.

I reached to put my phone back on the table. Just as I dropped it he grabbed my wrist. I jumped and pulled back but his still had my wrist. The moment went very tense and still. His eyes were flicking between my breasts and my lips. A light pressure on my wrist brought me towards him and he moved closer as well. I had no idea what he planned to do. I had no idea what I was going to do.

I licked my lips and he almost groaned. He leaned forward, his lips parting. I panicked. This was not what I wanted.

Should I poor my tea over his lap? Slap him? Pull away? Ask him to let go? In the end I turned my face as far as I could away from his so he would have to either make a fool of himself by grappling for me or kiss my ear. Suddenly, his hand dropped limply from mine and he sat back looking shame faced.

I sneered at him through half lidded eyes.

"What? Did you think your big seduction routine would work? Do you think I came here to be roughly pawed by some halfling boy? Do you think your clumsy fumbling could ever turn me on? Please, dear, spare us both from your teenage lustings."

I stood and looked down at him. Disappointment, frustration and irritation warred within me. This boy, this rube, this clod. This is the boy who upset me and made me cry. Who called me slut, whore, stupid, unfeeling, uncaring. Spiteful boy who couldn't get what he wanted, who wanted me single, and punished me soundly, verbally, for it afterward.

Something seemed to visibly snap within him. He stood too and I took a step backwards. He moved forward and I had to force myself to stand my ground. He moved closer and I balled my fists, ready to take swing at him. He grabbed me roughly and I tried to struggle but to my surprise, instead of the rough mauling I was expecting he kissed me lightly across my face. Feathery kisses brushed my brow, my lips, my eyelids and my cheeks.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I'm sorry I was such an arse. I'm sorry I was so horrible. I'm sorry I tried to get you into bed again after I told you I thought you were a whore for wanting to sleep with me before. I'm so damn sorry. Please forgive me. Please can we start again."

"Friends? We tried that before. Look where it's got us." He was still kissing me gently though I stood no less stiff in his arms.

"Not friends, more than friends. I want more than this. I know you're with Alpha but I like you so much. I wish you could be mine but I see that you can't. That you won't. So maybe we could just sneak around. Be together on our own."

I waited to see if there was more. He eventually stopped kissing me and pulled back to look into my eyes.

I shook my head gently and said,

"That's not what I want any more. I don't want you any more. It has become clear, abundantly clear, that we are simply not right for that kind of thing. I don't want it. I can't see beyond everything else you've done and said. I simply don't see you in the light. I also, and let me be very clear now, don't want that kind of relationship from you or from anyone. I love Alpha, he makes me happy."

Lancelot released me and I stepped back. I pulled on my hoody and deftly rearranged my hair. He hadn't moved and I pushed past him to leave. He didn't stop me and I didn't say goodbye.