The Game

interesting.
    After a drink at the hotel bar, I brought them up to my room for a runereading and then left them alone for a few minutes to get acquainted. When I returned, I showed them home movies on my laptop and then began the trusty dual-induction massage. It was all just a routine now, like the jealous girlfriend opener or the best friends test. And it worked just as consistently.
    Once the girls’ lips touched, they transformed from strangers to lovers. It shocked me every time to see two women get intimate so quickly in such an unusual situation.
    The night was as nasty as I’d anticipated. We tried every position we could twist into, some more successfully than others. When Jessica I asked me to come in her mouth, I obliged. She spit the wad into Jessica II’s mouth, and they started making out passionately. It was the sexiest moment of my entire life.
    But afterward I felt empty and alone. I didn’t care about them. All I really had was a memory and a story. Every girl in my life could disappear and never call me again, and I wouldn’t have cared.
    All the ten-night stands and threesomes in the world wouldn’t be enough to get me over my one-itis.
    The PUAs were wrong.

Male sexuality may seem on the surface like it runs rampant in societythere are strip clubs, porn websites, Maxim-style magazines, and titillating advertisements everywhere. But, despite all this, true male desire is often kept repressed.
    Men think about sex more than they will ever let women, or even each other, know. Teachers think about fucking their students, fathers think about fucking their daughter’s friends, doctors think about fucking their patients. And right now, for every woman with even an iota of sex appeal, there’s probably a man somewhere in the world who’s touching himself and thinking about what it would be like to fuck her. She may not even know him: He may be that businessman who walked past her in the street or the college student who sat across from her on the subway. And any man who tells a woman otherwise is most likely doing so because he’s trying to get in her pants, or the pants of someone else within earshot. The great lie of modern dating is that in order to sleep with a woman, a man must pretend initially as if he doesn’t want to.
    Most appalling to women is the male obsession with strippers, porn stars, and teenage girls. It is abhorrent because it threatens a woman’s reality. If all men really desire a woman like that, then where does that leave her marriage and happily-ever-after fantasies? She’s doomed to live them with a man who really wants that Victoria’s Secret model or the neighbor’s daughter or that dominatrix in the videos he hides in his closet. As a woman ages, an eighteen-year-old girl will always be eighteen. Love is dashed on the rocks in the face of the possibility that a man doesn’t want a person but a body.
    Fortunately, this is not the entire story. Men are visual thinkers; thus we’re often deceived by our eyes. But the truth is that the fantasy is often better than the reality. I had just learned that lesson. Most men eventually learn that lesson. Mystery may have thought he wanted to live with two girls who love each other as much as they love him, but chances are they’d get on his nerves, team up against him, and eventually make him just as miserable as he’d been with Katya.
    Men are not dogs. We merely think we are and, on occasion, act as if we are. But, by believing in our nobler nature, women have the amazing power to inspire us to live up to it. This is one reason why men tend to fear commitment—and sometimes, as in Mystery’s case, even rebel against it by endeavoring to bring out the worst in a woman.

While I was in Miami, Katya returned.
    I dreaded the day and the terror it would unleash in the house. But Mystery was looking forward to it like a birthday. He had it all planned out.
    Because I was away, I have reconstructed the story of the disaster that ensued from the accounts of those involved.
    Project Hollywood had reached a new nadir.

    MYSTERY: I met a nineteen-year-old hottie named Jen at an afterparty at the house. I full-montied her, and it was amazing, like the shower scene in 9 1/2 Weeks. She had the softest, purest skin and the best ass I’d ever been with. And I was standing there just looking at that ass and that skin thinking, “I deserve this.”
    KATYA: Mystery called me every other day while I was in New Orleans, trying to