The weird making out in the office

It all started when one fine winter morning, just like today, I arrived at the office. After a workout and a great breakfast. I was feeling pumped after a night of ruthless debauchery, things I am ashamed of and yet enjoyed. I saw her, the girlfriend of co-owner of the corporation I was consulting for. This was just some extra work I took on the side for a while. I did not enjoy the work much because the guys I was helping market the product for were too intrusive and adamant about their ideas being reflected in the marketing plan.

She was a sight for the sore eyes. The first day I saw her I gave her the ‘choke on it – no attention’ body language. I said hello though and continues working on my dashboard.

Days past and we developed the very strange, weird but usual office banter. We would exchange greetings. She would often meet me at the expensive artisan coffee machine and ask how she could get a macchiato.

It was enjoyable. Then I started to notice it. A smile when I opened doors for her. Getting looks from other side of the room and other flattering signs of body language that made a convincing case for me. I knew she was at least mildly interested. My ego had found a person to measure itself by through all the approval that I was getting from her.

She was a goddess. Tall, around 5’9″. Slim yet the perfect amount of soft flesh around her sides and perfectly rounded ass. My primal inner self sometimes wanted to rip that dress apart and fuck her on the side of the stairs where often I would hold the door for her when she came down from the office kitchen. She has straight dark brown hair that glowed in the January sun when she stood outside smoking a cigarette. The way she curled her lower lip ever so slightly when she had a question to ask. She had pale white skin that was not pink but rather weirdly light. I could imagine how beautiful her butt would look and if I could just hold her from behind and slap it, rub it.

That day, she met me outside the entrance of the office and told me these guys were out for a run, some important meeting they couldn’t put off so she would be here to help me out with whatever I needed and also needed help with brand design for her pet project. I was glad. I was a gentleman and she was glad already I could tell. You know, I open doors and give way and make everyone feel important and shit like that. This was the first time I noticed that she also had a primal sheen to the way she looked at me. This was going to be fun, I told myself. We had a good three hours of coffee driven work spree without much of a talk.

Tension started building around lunch. We were awfully quite. It was cold so we took our stuff and sat in one of the conference rooms to work comfortably. I politely asked her for lunch and using my fake and weird overcompensating politeness I managed to order some good food for her. Charmed her with how much I knew about  food and this is how it began. My usual, the story. How I did this and achieved that and how great I am, basically. It is utterly narcissistic but then it feels like a game when you can tell that the other person is completely engrossed in what you have to say. You slip in some things which are not even true but you see the other person completely take it in. I was surprised with the kind of interest she took in me. I guess she enjoyed the conversation or rather the time she spend with me as much as I did. I was quick to figure out we needed some whiskey for the talk.

Half an hour later, the office boy had brought us the alcohol and we enjoyed our four glasses of wonderful George Dickel number 1. She was quite tipsy I could tell. She was also horrible at hiding the fact that recently she had had a fight with her boyfriend. She made no attempts of hiding it, I could tell. Ignoring his calls, steering away from conversations that involved him. An hour later we were awkwardly kissing with our hands off. It was a weird kiss. Our mouths were pasted onto each other and our eyes were closed but our I could feel that were hands were weirdly positioned. She wanted to touch and feel but we were in a workplace. Even though there was no one around it was still not appropriate. My left hand was placed on the table over my task  book  and my right hand was in the right pocket of my grey overcoat. Her lips told me she wanted more. She tasted fruity and corn malt-y. I took my right hand slowly towards her waist and pulled her in. Her revolving chair made a weird sound which felt eerie in the complete silence of the office. And then held her closer with both my hands as I trailed my kisses down from her lips, over her perfect jaw into the depth of her neck. She smelled like sweet. Not the usual fruity sweet but the lingering ‘expensive’ sweet. and I liked it. Things escalated and I took her hand and took her into the corner of the office behind us. I started kissing her again and with my right hand I switched off the lights that glared us down.

This lasted only for ten minutes. We ferociously made out in the cold corner of the room with all the lights turned off. When we were done her black cardigan was pulled off of her left shoulder and her pale, bony yet very broad attractive shoulder was showing. She had a well built and symmetrical frame. Her flesh was warm and soft.  Her hair was in a mess. I was just the same. We talked less after that and withing half an hour we moved out. Much wasn’t achieved in terms of work but I could feel something strange about it. Not that it matters but a lot has changed. I am not the same man I was before.


Waking up at 12 in the afternoon on the mini bar

How does it feel? Ridiculous. The sun was peering in from the golden satin curtains and I could see the numerous particles of dust just floating in a calm, controlled manner. There was only so much I could see with one eye open. I opened the other eye and picked my head up from the table top to look around my room and stretch out. It was 12 in the afternoon but it’s a Sunday so I can justify myself being a degenerate. I really don’t know how to put it. My life is easy and it is hard at the same time. I never though of the question of existing before but since my parents passed I have thought about it every single day. Why I do what I do? Why I am who I am? Was everything just about money in the bank? I have it, yes. I like to boast about it too. One has to admit the greatness of the feeling when you’re out and you ask yourself – Where shall I dine tonight? and you know you can afford to feed at least a 100 people at any kind of restaurant they’d like. The best the expensive, the artful. Any place. It feels like power. Even then, why do I come here on a WordPress blog to cry for you people after every night of relentless debauchery. I do not have an answer to that. To answer your questions, yes I make a lot of money. I am making money right now while I am struggling to close these golden curtains in this posh hotel room. I was making money when I ate a Korean girl’s pussy all night. I loved it. Believe me this is as shocking for me as it is to you. I was a weak bastard. I still am, I just cracked the money game. Also, I am not your Instagram whore. So you don’t find me posting picture with dollar bills or showing my new car. I am an arsehole but a smart one.

Last six months have been excruciating. I have lost a lot of personal calm and lost somebody I was deeply in love with. That’s life though, right? I mean how can I complain when I am practically sitting on money which I spend very generously but the more I spend, the more I make. The reason I am here is because money is not what makes you happy. Money is what drives the world crazy but not after you. It drives people crazy only after itself. You’re just a medium to getting to it. I shake countless hands throughout my 90 hour work week and I know how many of them just believe anything that I say just because I have money. Just because what I do works. To tell you the truth I do not know how it works. Tomorrow if it stops working or I break a hand or injure myself, I might not be able to continue working. This scares me. To drown these voices, these demons I get shitfaced every night. I am signing off as I pick this bottle up again, it’s a fucking Sunday, you can’t judge me.

Everything makes me miss her

Don’t you just hate the righteous, studious, prestigious institutional motherfuckers who get their first jobs as leaders of a corporation. I know I hate them, I had to climb my way up the corporate ladder with sweat in my mouth and blood between in my balls, no joke. As I stand here talking to this beautiful girl, I drift away to talk to you about this. She is just so privileged. She has had everything so easy, I can read between the lines. I know who she is and what she is within two minutes of her introduction. yes, for full two minutes she kept introducing herself. I just wanted to bend her over the wall next to her and just fuck her sweet little arse. She was fancy like that, you see. Oh man, I might comes across to you as shallow and cheap, excuse me. Hear me out though. I am a man who has risen from the lowest of categories to enjoy every opportunity I can take care of all y’all drinks for as long as you’d want, I can go out there buy an expensive car and I wouldn’t be affected in any way. I can buy a newspaper and print whatever shit I want. I am nowhere near as rich as those internet giants but I have money and money makes you crazy. I have crazy thoughts, like thinking I can do what I want and often I am able to but then I want more. This is a never ending cycle. I am not an inventor, I am not a zen master. I am a hungry piece of shit corporate asshole who would beat you up for every penny if I have too. I am sick…

“Hey?” She said “yeah, that’s interesting, sorry I was just thinking of the prospects this could have” “Okay” “well are you leaving?” I asked “Yes” she said. I realized later how rude it was but then I was totally not interested. To tell you the truth I am still fixated on her, remember the Latvian I met in Kyoto. She has been on my mind ever since. let’s call her Alana. Something really interesting happened between me and her before I left Kyoto stay tuned to find out.

Fitful thoughts

I sat there staring at the rain outside. I sat against the foggy glass in my hotel room. I am always in hotel rooms. Staring outside like a gorilla in a cage, a very expensive cage. Wi-Fi costs me $100 for two days here. It is fucking expensive. I have a cigarette in my hand. I have covered the smoke alarm. It works every time. As I sat contemplating the world around me and all the shit I am going through I also observe the beauty of a foreign land. A scene, a marvelous scene of beauty created by man.

I am a product too, wearing expensive suits. Selling a world-class biotech technology. This tech is so good people have to buy it. My only challenge is to convince them that we are the shit. How do I do that?  Pretence

I am partaking in lavish dinners big client meetings, visiting foreign countries and living the life. Also, that is how I portray myself to others, to younger people. Unfortunately that is not how I feel inside. Life is a mess, it’s an unidentifiable game. Someone’s win is your loss. I hate the hippie startup entrepreneurs and I think lowly of them. That maybe because I am jealous that they might have it easy, which they might not.

I Wish on these fitful nights when I am fighting with my own mind, I had someone who would run her hand through my hair and tell me it would be alright.

Love in Kyoto

Okay, haven’t posted in here for a while. I was away on a business trip to Japan. Fuckhall experience. Everything is so crazy out there. It truly is different. It’s like dropping acid. The mixture of western culture and their values is awesome. The women are amazing. The food sucks. Loud mouthed tattooed assholes like me look misplaced.

I was living in Kyoto where the company I was visiting had its head office. I was staying at the Rihga Royal. Great hotel, good service but it was awfully quite there. I was roaming quite senselessly until I found this english style pub called the pig and whistle. It took me 25 minutes of walk from my hotel. I prefer long walks. That is how I face my fears and meditate by thinking about everything. The pub had a great atmosphere. An amazing mixture of people, mostly foreigners. The locals that were in there had a different feel to them. They were a bit more casual. I saw this cute looking white girl sitting in the far corner with what looked like a business team. They seem to be celebrating some sort of occasion. I continue to observe as I sip my cup of Guinness. The girl wore a grey melange shirt with a long fitting black skirt. She was constantly looking into her phone all the time. The first time her eyes locked with mine, I smiled. She was a little-taken aback. Well, fifteen minutes into the staring session she seemed to be a little interested. I was also getting closer towards the area of the pub where she was hanging out. A while later she appeared at the bar. I immediately approached her, trying to do that as smoothly as possible. Hi, I said. Hey, she replied. “Allow me to buy you a drink” “Umm…okay!” She was probably Latvian.

She told me that she was here with a friend and her boyfriend and she was feeling very out of place. I tell her about myself. The same old shiny glittery bullshit stuff that is true but it’s about the way I present it. She was a girl with pride, standards. She was not immediately impressed by me. I couldn’t tell if I would be able to fuck her or not. If I can’t tell that about a drunk girl in a bar at 11am in the night then man that girl is tough. We hung out late. I almost had to carry her to my hotel room. We fucked, yes but it was different. She had a scar on her belly. Man, she was intense. She was a warm and loving still detached. I would love to get to know her. Updates to come.

Janitorial Position

“Hey, you are a voracious reader. You tell me if I publish my photo on my book cover, will you buy it?” The asshole sitting across to me in the office main hall asked. “I will never buy a book that has a picture on it of someone I don’t know about. I will only buy it if the picture is of Bill Gates, Warren Buffet or someone like that. If it’s your first book I would just think you are an arrogant fool”

This asshole just disturbed me. I was thinking of the great time I had with the Japanese girl I told you about in a previous post. I was going to talk to you about it but now I am talking about this piece of shit. ‘Investment banker turned author’ he calls himself. Let me tell you he isn’t published and still likes to call himself an author. “ This advice comes from a person who reads three to four books at a time. Don’t put your picture on your own book!” he starts to convince me on why it wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Teabag! I look at him with a blank expression and fade off into yesterday…

Remember, I told you about this Japanese girl who is staying at the hotel I put up at. Okay, so yesterday I saw her at the pool and since I was free I rushed down. As soon as I reached the stairs to the pool I started walking casually. She stool facing the pool with both her on her back and watching her sister swim. How do I know she’s her sister. I observe a lot. I approach her. “Hey, a good swimmer aren’t you?” “How can you tell?” (heavy Japanese accent) “Well your abdominal shape and back are well-defined the way they wold be if you were a good swimmer and hence I conclude you are.” She smiled. I extended my hand and introduced myself. She told me her name is Marie. As I am chatting her up this Indian dude starts walking towards us. Okay so she has a boyfriend. “Hi, I am Rahul” “Hey there man” “I am her husband” “Good to know” “These are our kids” Two very confused kids come out of the pool. “Nice family, hope to see you guys around” I take the most gentlemanly exit possible. I did that because I knew that I would them meet them again at the breakfast buffet.

I enter the breakfast buffet just in time. I see her standing next to the chicken dimsum box. Call me a racist for noticing that (She is Japanese though, not Chinese) She noticed me and smiled. I smiled back. I saw her husband sitting at the table on the far end. “What’s your favorite thing on this table?” “Why?” “I’d only want to eat that, I think I trust your judgment….” I spent the next one hour exaggerating and misrepresenting myself as a man of elegant taste and high morals. I knew she was getting attracted and her husband was a little pissed at my intelligence and know it all attitude. Of course I know it all, I have to. The actual purpose of my life is to put others down but telling them how much knowledge I have.

So, the end result of this one hour of faker-y? We fucked in the janitor’s closet on my floor. Her feet on the lowest shelf and I thrust all my frustration and ego in her throbbing wet pussy. The electricity the desperation, the energy that flowed from her body was amazing. I know I am an asshole but I can’t help it. I was taught lies at school, was beaten at home when I said I can and want to write with both hands. I was fucked by the system and know I am just playing my part before I can’t move forward. I have no shame.

Caveman tendencies

From time to time I like to believe that I am not like other men. I like to believe in honor, love and responsibility but the truth is everyone considers themselves a hero. In retrospect, I am an asshole. Just another asshole with tattoos and with my brain residing in my loins. I just did something I always do, and I am never proud. I was visiting my ex-girlfriend for an evening of business talks and some liquor. So she lives with this girl who’s her friend. I know both of them for quite some time and have also lived with them for a couple of moths. I always liked her friend. Not when we were together but after that. We talk, we laugh, and I start thinking that she wants me, instantly (fuck my ego and self-worth calculation). Don’t ask me why I thought that but I did. So my ex-Girlfriend disappears for a while to the washroom, and I lie down. This girl she brushes her hand through my hair while I am lying face down on the bed. That was incredible. I have told you already that I have a serious problem with love. I want attention from all girls, all the time. Only the ones that I know. Outside my realm, I am a serious motherfucker. I am a different human being on business trips. Anyways, so I kiss this girl (on the cheeks) (fuck me, am I in middle school?) and I automatically assume she wants more. She wants more of this sweet body, yeahhhh! Fuck me! So we discuss the possibilities for my ex girlfriend’s e-commerce business, supply chain micromanagement, customer satisfaction and market research and all that bullshit. We drink hard and go to sleep.

Next day, ladies and gentlemen when these girls are getting ready to go to their respective workplaces. I get up to make myself some coffee ( I search the kitchen cabinets to find only shitty instant coffee pouches). I see this girl getting ready, and I don’t know what happens to me, but I go towards her, hold her by her waist (she is growing a little chubby here huh?). I hold her close, hold her face with my right hand, gently and kiss her on the lips and then gently release her from my grip. She just asks me “What happened?” And then she is normal. I cook her some breakfast. And say my goodbyes. After she goes is when I start thinking the amount of shit I got myself into by doing that. I start to panic thinking what if it was a force on for her? (surely was, what do you think?)

P.S. – That girl and me I am guilty of getting close to her often even when we lived together. Sometimes it made her happy. Sometimes, did not. I am embarrassed as much as I am confused. I would apologize when I see her again.

My Fear of Gyms

I got up late today, just one of those days when you hide behind the covers. Here, where you feel safe and warm, where you fee closer to mommy. Issues. I bet you do the same. Some days you just don’t want to get up. I don’t know about you but if I don’t get up from my bed every day my company would lose money and I can’t afford that. I am a man of discipline. I have it tattooed on my left sleeve. So now you know I am tattooed (bad choices? hell yeah). Anyways, so I got up late so my Saturday has already gone to shit. I get up and zombie walk to the couch that faces the big windows I have in the hotel room (refer to the previous post to understand a good use of the same). I sit on the couch, slump down when I notice this chick swimming in the hotel pool. I ignore her. I start to contemplate if I should workout today. Today is my mixed martial arts session according to my time table which I fervently prepare every weekend. Fuck that. Sometimes even the best of us can’t follow our regimen and trust me I AM THE BEST. I also have this inherent fear of gyms you see. I started working out when I was quite young and I like to believe (correctly so) that my height suffered. Instead of the lean body that I had I developed a little curved thoracic spine and big lateral muscles. It haunts me to this day. I also learned many ill practiced exercise routines which fucked my posture which I mend even today. So I like to workout in open spaces with bodyweight and I am not big on size anymore. Recently, I have started reconsidering gyms. I remember feverishly working out in the gyms for two hours at a stretch and I don’t want to go back to the same madness but yes I would like to go back in the gym once more just to experiment with my body and its development.

Wait, this chick in the pool I was talking about is hot. She has a curvy body and looks like she could use some of my guidance on how to put it to use. Also, she is Japanese. I know that doesn’t matter but I am an asshole. Also, I travel a lot so I recognize people by their hand movements and walk. I am going to talk to her. I have to fuck her, that blue swimsuit looks amazing on her. I know you judge me but I don’t care. I like what I see and I am going to get it. The same applies to my philosophy of life. Do let me know what you think about my fear of gyms and if I should go back to the gym or not (also consider that I might go mad just trying to build gains but gym equipment can also help me workout more muscles in shorter time and focus on lean muscle development)

Shitface Corporate

I sat there stirring my glass with a bit of fake judgment in my eyes. I did not know what kind of wine it was neither did I care. I mean who does? Anybody who does either has a lot of time on their hands or are just fucking with you! I sat there while this rich couple who looked like they haven’t fucked each other in ages, talked about the market of biochemicals in the country. I just stirred my wine and smelled it and took another sip while I noticed the decor all around the fabulous restaurant. Teak furniture, carved doors and shit. So many motherfucking lights! I look at this girl who was attending us for the evening, she looked fine. I wanted to take her to my room. I wondered what it’d be like, us chatting up late night in my room and we end up fucking against the huge glass windows overlooking the corporate park. Some late night app makers and technical support might record a video on their latest iPhone. I was engrossed in this thought when the reports were pushed in my face. “Take a look at the January performance, would you?!” “Okay”

These graphs, pie charts don’t mean shit, this was all crafted by me, a market analyst who gives a shit. I did what we all do, put fake stats up there and co – related it with real numbers just so that it looks nice and feasible. After all, it was a 5 million USD deal. This deal would enable the entry of high-performance medical technology into the market which would be a novelty in the country. His wife starts asking me about life and shit to which I nodded my head adding a fake smile and kept answering generically, I was drunk. Here, I have everything. A nice warm bed to retire too but I am an unhappy bitch. I wake up on time, workout, fill my journal, read my newspaper with my special green tea. I do everything on time, but my existence just sucks. I lack what you may call ‘life’. Welcome to my overburdened shit faced corporate lifestyle. I get up in between the conversation and sluggishly find my way to the elevator. I am heading to my room to masturbate and drink more alcohol before I pass out. And today was a good day…