Men’s Health: Read Her Dirty Mind ‘THE SINGLE WOMAN’


Men's Health Philippines July 2009 issue


***Featured in MH July 2009 issue

Name: Pamela Cruz* (not her real name)

Occupation: Public Relations Executive

Status: (Recently) Single

Last Hookup: 4 days ago

Number of Active Partners: 3

Looking for: “Intimacy without the Intricacy”

Wednesday, 10:00AM


I had just ended a relationship and spent most part of the morning doing routine workouts in the gym. I didn’t want to be one of those women who camp out in the kitchen after a break-up only to re-emerge a couple of weeks after 20lbs heavier and not much to look at.[1] This morning, I focused on my ass and my stomach all the while thinking of that skin-tight black tube dress I picked up from Zara which I thought I’d wear for the anniversary that would never come. I knew I looked stunning the minute I walked out of the building because men would actually stop on their tracks to look. No, to ogle. And I’m getting a perverse sense of pleasure out of it.



I was just about to shut down my laptop and call it a day, when my text message alert went off. Hey, what are you up to tonight? Wanna hang? It was Jake, an old flame who I’d see every once in a while for a quick fix. The whole day at work I haven’t been able to shake off my raging hormones. The moratorium on fixed sex is what I consider to be the biggest setback of a suddenly discontinued relationship. I don’t miss my Ex at all. But I definitely do the sex. I’m feeling rather ambivalent. The call of the loins is becoming more strident but I don’t think Jake is the answer. Dinner with girlfriends and then I’m calling it a night. Got a big client meeting tomorrow I can’t miss. Maybe next time. Hope he got the hint. As my fuck buddy[2], I am indifferent to Jake but I keep him around for emergency cases. And judging by the way my skin crawled a little after reading his text message, this is clearly not one of those.



Obviously, I didn’t go home early like I told Jake I would. So I fibbed a little, so what? After dinner, my posse and I decided to “celebrate” my freedom over a few rounds of margaritas. They have never liked my Ex for me and are now acting all smug hitting me with their versions of “I told you so” from all angles. Somehow I agree with them. The signs of impending doom were everywhere when Clarence and I first started dating, but I paid no attention to any of it. I thought he had it in him – the spark, the grit, the intelligence and the desirability to keep me hooked and my flighty feet firmly planted on the ground. Well, too bad, he didn’t. I excused myself from the table and the relentless chastisement of friends to freshen up in the Ladies. That’s when he caught my eye. Him with the chiselled countenance and dark brooding eyes that seem capable of boring giant holes through the stretch fabric of my black dress.



I’ve heard it often said that once commitment flies out of the window, you can have a lot of fun. And that’s exactly what I’ve been thinking to myself while I hold Mystery Man’s gaze – with an air of mock defiance and a hint of provocation just to see how far he can go. The air is now thick with sexual tension you can slice through it with a knife. What do I do if he comes over?Anticipation is causing ripples of excitement to run up and down my spine and the length of my thighs which now feels as if the Amazon’s running through it.[3] Did he just wink at me? Oh the game is on, buddy boy. We paid for the bill and one by one, my girlfriends started to push back their cushioned chairs and get off to leave. I told them I didn’t feel like going home just yet and would stay for one more drink and ruminate about my failed relationship. I didn’t fool them for one second though. They witnessed the brazen flirting and figured that since I’m supposed to be “heartbroken”, they didn’t want to get in the way. Bless their indulgent hearts. And just as I thought he would, Mystery Man sauntered over to where I was sitting and with the enigmatic grace of a skilled predator, sat next to me, deliberately letting his leg graze mine in the most intimate fashion and hold the skin-on-skin contact long enough to give me a warm flush from the neck down. So I’ve been watching you since the minute you and your friends walked in. Predictable, but it doesn’t matter. He will do.



We didn’t make it to his bed. The minute he opened the door, he had me up against the wall, his sinewy thighs lodged between my legs, his right hand deftly working the zipper on the side of my dress while his left hand kneads one plump breast. The second our clothes dropped to the floor, our sweat-soaked bodies followed. A tangle of limbs and arms at first, but soon we were both undulating to the rhythm of brutish sex. We did it three more times, first on the floor, the kitchen counter and on the couch, where finally he collapsed out of sheer exhaustion. I waited for the sound of his even breathing and then I slowly tiptoed to where my clothes were carelessly discarded. One night stands are not normally my nature but I know that it’s in my best interest to ease out of a possible sticky one-off situation with anonymity and finesse.[4]And that’s how random guy came to be known henceforth simply as MysteryMan.

Thursday, 2:00AM


I finally reached home. I’m exhausted and sore and reeking of sex. I hurriedly pealed my clothes off and stepped into the shower. I noticed a couple of bite marks on my shoulders, thighs and round flesh of my left breast. Funny, I didn’t feel his teeth clamping down hard on my bruised body parts. I must have been too busy minding my orgasms. I heard my text message alert go off. I’m sorry, I was wrong. Can we talk? It was him, my Ex. The guy who, just yesterday, pompously declared he doesn’t see us progressing beyond a perfunctory liaison and that I deserve someone else and not him. Now unless I find a nicer way of saying I’m sorry, too, but I just had the best sex of my life and I don’t think you’d want to listen to me go on and on about it during our talk, I will keep my thumb off of the reply button.[5]

[1] In her book It’s a Breakup NOT a Breakdown, author Lisa Steadman says Post-Breakup Slump aka Woe is Me, is natural and women do tend to feel a lot of strong emotions during this period. But it has to be dealt with in a healthy way. Retail therapy, trip to the salon, the gym or the spa, night-out with friends are among the more popular and highly-recommended ways of stumping the slump.

[2] Fuck buddy – Term used for sexual partners that regularly engage in sexual activities with each other, but do not share the usual emotional attachment of a standard boyfriend/girlfriend. Often used to describe two people who use each other solely for sexual gratification and nothing else. Usually this is a sexual relationship that still allows for each partner to seek sexual and emotional relationships with other people (hence, no attachments) but can rely on each other for a quickie or a booty call.

[3] French writer-philosopher Voltaire once said “It’s not enough to conquer, one must learn to seduce.” In the timeless art of seduction, timing is important – so is establishing a connection with a woman. One must first become a fixture of the woman’s mind, and only after she has had sufficient time to dwell on the impending moment will she become ready for anything physical.

[4] One Night Stands can lead to a lot of awkward situations that usually take place the morning after. One of the cool ways to avoid such is to NOT overstay your welcome. Men generally find women who are in control of themselves after a casual encounter and do not tarry about in the house waiting to be engaged in deep conversations or breakfast more mysterious and interesting.

[5] Break-ups often provoke hormonal crisis, which can lead most women to become vulnerable to advances. Women on the rebound usually go for sex with no strings attached. But it’s not that simple because women on the rebound are out to prove their desirability – or be certain that they made the right decision to get out of the relationship. suggests that you work on some strategies: press some of her psychological buttons (compliments) and stroke some of her physical ones to reap the rewards of a woman hungry for a fresh partner and some ego-stroking.


Author: mrsvickyaltaie

Mother to ZO. UltraRunner. Writer. Casual blogger. Yogi wannabe. Passionate about travel, nature, and fashion. Occasionally neurotic. Possibly, undiagnosed bipolar.

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