Author's Note
: you should most definitely read
What Women Want; What Women Need, Part 05
before this installment in the series.
====================
Arthur
:
I had worked
very
hard in graduate studies in Ann Arbor. To earn simultaneous medical and law degrees at a leading University in four years was no minor accomplishment. And quite the grind: either degree takes a
lot
of work. During this period I needed to have my,
uh,
physical needs met. However, a conventional social life would have meant my pursuing women who all too often would need tedious maintenance requiring a lot of time and patience I didn't have to give. I needed a woman who would meet all my needs exclusively and require almost no attention, let alone coddling or even caring, in return. A tall order in this day and age, no? But a necessary one given the academic rigors I was about to face.
The unique way I dealt with that challenge is covered in
"What Women Want; What Women Need" parts 03 and 04,
published in
Literotica®.
If you add your name to my list of Followers, you will be notified when these installments are put on-line in these pages.
====================
With his degrees in tow, Arthur moved to Manhattan. He became a supervisor in a leading cancer-research facility, quickly passed the Bar Exam, and joined a prestigious law firm that concentrated in the areas of freedom of speech and libel law in an "of counsel" capacity. The law firm affiliation was unsalaried. Arthur entered into the arrangement just to have a platform from which to act in the event he might need to pursue litigation of any sort.
Arthur was more than content with and well-paid for his cancer research activities. He was a good manager, and had a real feel for the research. And he worked nowhere near the number of hours per week that he had when pursuing two advanced degrees - so he found himself with lots of leisure time on his hands.
Arthur was an avid musician - gifted in trombone and clarinet - and he would jam or sit in on gigs with local groups once or twice a week. But he had plenty to time left over to engage in the astonishing and intoxicating social milieu of Manhattan in the late 90's. He had the looks - the facial scar referred to in Part 01
of this series, the result of surviving a fatal fire while an undergraduate - had been rendered virtually unnoticeable by a deft plastic surgeon. Arthur was thus more than presentable, interested in a number activities and pursuits, was very personable, and had money. Most importantly, he understood women and their needs. Sounds like a recipe for social success, no? Well, it most certainly was.
Arthur
:
For roughly a year and a half after coming to the Big Apple, I lived the dream life of most American males: seven-nights-a-week of unattached, uncommitted sex. I was truly decadent: my personal record was four (4) women in a 24-hour period. (As one of my understanding partners quipped, "Seven days make one weak.") I would go to parties and informal gatherings with friends and acquaintances - and non-acquaintances: with my looks, a bottle of good wine and a warm smile were my ticket of admission to almost any gathering in the big city. And three or four hundred dollars in my vest pocket and three or four condoms in my back pocket were usually sufficient to meet most eventualities.
I was mixed with, and delighted in, all types of women: struggling actresses, undiscovered artists, musicians, established stage actresses, fledgling models, nurses, paralegals, professors, established models, successful artists; but also tony owners of upscale galleries, physicians and Wall Street Titanettes - women with MBA's and law degrees who were recruited at $180K annually (a decent starting wage 20 years ago) but expected to work 80 or 90 hours weekly for that stipend in upscale law firms or investment banks. This servitude for the cream of tomorrow's female movers and shakers of course ruled out their having any kind of a conventional social life - and they found that Erica Jong's "zipless fuck" was just what the doctor ordered. And I was quite willing to help them out with this in their times of need.
I did not have a physical "type" that I preferred. Truly democratic, I accepted tall, short; svelte, zaftig; blonde, auburn, brunette; pancake breasts, average breasts, small-breasted femmes, tiny tits, big busted (but not excessively so - I drew the line at anything North of a D-cup; alert nipples, quiescent nipples, protuberant nipples, swollen areolae; average pussies, plump pussies, thin pussies, shorn pussies, jungle pussies, waxed pussies; piercings (except tongue or mouth) were fine. Pretty faces, plain faces, sophisticated looks, girl-next-door looks, happy expressions, pouty expressions; wary expressions, sad expressions, seductive expressions, innocent expressions, they were all intriguing to me. In short, there were very few fish I threw back into the feminine sea.
The corridors of Manhattan during this era pulsated with carnal excess. And I went for it, grabbing for sex of every sort - you name it, everything was within my wheelhouse except (a) I would not go down on a woman; and, (b) I would not enter her anally. The absence of these varieties did not matter a bit given my astonishing sexpertise and my constant emphasis on sharing (that is to say, imparting) pleasure as opposed to merely receiving pleasure. And invariably your humble servant did please one and all comers - or should I say, "cummers"?
I rarely had encounters that lasted more than five or six times with the same woman, often only once or twice - and neither they nor I expected anything even faintly approaching exclusivity. I misled no one as to my total lack of interest in a long-standing "gonnegtion" (as Wolfsheim would call it). Yet in my own way, I was a caring partner. These women and I shared the simple understanding that we owed one other nothing more than a brief interval of rigorous sexual release, perhaps (but by no means necessarily) accompanied by an occasional minute dollop of tenderness.
And then, it all stopped. I called a sudden halt to my dissolute behavior. My physical needs notwithstanding, I decided I just wasn't getting what I needed from the meaningless sex that was my lifestyle. Woody Allen once wrote, "Sex without love is an empty experience, but as empty experiences go it's one of the best." Well, my sex life was not actually entirely devoid of love; there was in fact plenty of love on my part - self-love. But seriously, all of a sudden I came to appreciate that I needed something more than the profligate orgasm-fest that was my existence. I needed a certain someone, a permanent partner. I needed the stability of a single bed. Well, actually, a single California King bed. (All right, not very funny.)
====================
Arthur made a 180 degree change of direction in his life. He became celibate, until he could find "the one." He decided to date women, but only those who appeared worthy, in other words not the female version of the horn dog he himself had very recently been.
In Arthur's quest, he resolved to see only one woman at a time. And he set a strict limit of three dates: if at that point he didn't feel a sufficient spark with someone, he would not see her again. But if he did elect to go beyond that point, he would explain his intentions (i.e., his interest in a long-term exclusive relationship) and seek a corresponding pledge of exclusivity from the potential partner while they got to know one another better. And here was the pièce de résistance:
he would explain to any prospective candidate who had passed the three-date minimum that he would want to remain chaste until he might ask for her hand in marriage, and in turn would be accepted.
Well, the problem was obvious. While any number of young female Manhattanites of substance might well be drawn to a committed relationship with an eligible young man possessing a core of solid values, how many of those putative partners would want the understanding going in that the ultimate goal was marriage? Well, less than the initial pool, to be sure. And how many of that group would be willing to forego sexual satisfaction until a marriage commitment was made? Likely far less. But Arthur understood the realities of the situation and notwithstanding these he forged forth. In addition, he figured, a woman who was willing to forego easy
liaisons
in exchange for the possibility of something far more rewarding probably possessed the kind of character he would want in a wife.
And so over 15 months or so he saw a dozens of women once or twice or even three times, but after that he only sought to enter into an exclusive, initially non-physical relationship only three times. And only one of the women he then asked accepted his candid and unusual terms. The one trial relationship thus entered into lasted only a couple of additional dates, when he and she realized they weren't right for one another and mutually called it off.
So Arthur, only slightly daunted, continued his series of "try-outs," as it were, into year two. Sex continued to elude him.
