Not gonna change me ever.

Couple of the boys and I were having drinks at our usual watering hole last night, and it didn't take long before we started checking out the ladies in the room; and certainly with that, there would be the occasional walk-up introduction.

Except that last night, I didn't see anything I fancied: most of the girls were...well, girls, and by that, I meant younglings in their twenties who were mostly very chatty, nice to look at, but nothing that could provide a good sport-- in my case, defined as someone who'd make it past a one-night stand. I'm into collecting lovers these days, not just a quick roll-in-the-hay, if you recall.

Anyway, the boys were up for the game, and the scoring was fabulous: it was like a turkey shoot, and before long, the happy lads were displaying name cards and phone numbers collected off the young girls they fancied, so much so they could actually pick out which ones they wanted to go home with that night. It's amazing, because the only other places I was convinced that sort of thing happened where 3 middle-aged men could have their pick of young girls to have fun with was some sleazy bar in Bangkok, a beach pub in Phuket/Bali, or some KTV lounge in Singapore.

Still, I suppose the girls themselves were looking for something more than casual fun. There was one particular one who kept smiling at me, and when she did come over for a chat with her girlfriends at the invitation of one of the boys, she sat right beside me, and as we talked, I could feel her legs brushing up against mine, and she leaned forward ever so often so I could have a peek at her generous cleavage and the peek of her black laced bra each time she wanted to make a point about some random issue.

But I wasn't interested: young girl fresh from uni, first job at a bank and she thinks it's the greatest thing on earth to be working for a financial institution, goes on to talk about how she wants to make her first million bucks before she turns 30, yadda-yadda. I'm sorry honey, you have a cute face with lips that would be great around my dick, and I'm sure you'd be fun in bed and all, but really, I pass, because she certainly wouldn't and couldn't be the classique lover I seek.

And towards the end of the evening, of the 4 friends who wanted to have a night of good company, only 2 were left, as the other 2 decided to head off with their youngling conquests. So between new glasses of martinis and tequilas, taken in between puffs of Cubans and cigarettes, my friend Lou and I spent the rest of the night talking about other things that probably mattered more than just young pussies to fuck.

Lou, however, was wondering how long we would be keeping up with our lifestyles. "We're not getting younger", he said, "And I do wonder if it's time we just settled down for good."

I challenged that, because knowing us, we were a bunch of leopards who could never, and would never, change our spots, regardless of relationship statuses. In fact, the ones amongst us who were married with kids would probably make better husbands and fathers if they had the occasional fling or affair, instead of if they were 100% dedicated family men.

My conclusion was that we simply weren't wired up that way, and warped and selfish it may seem, that's the way it works for us: we were guys who need dessert on the side in order to appreciate the main dishes, if you get my drift.

Of course, I don't expect everyone to agree to the logic of it. On the other hand, I don't need anyone's approval on how I choose to live my life, right?

So there you have it, for as long as I can see it, I'd probably continue to have my one or two lovers as I go along, and I'm not seeking an entire legion of virgins to make up a harem. It's probably better for me too.

A leopard can't-- and probably won't-- change its spots...