Love, Sex and Game Theory

Author's Note: I put this in 'Reviews and Essays' because it is an exploration of a few ideas, but rather than write it as straightforward prose, I thought it would read better as a dialogue between two fictional characters. However, I want to warn readers that there is no story and minimal sexual content. Hope you enjoy it though.

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Club Aphrodite was a sex club and I had booked two hours with my favourite girl, Fatima. She was petite with a perfectly formed body and long dark hair, and I loved watching her walk naked around the room with the king-size bed. I loved lying on my front and having her massage my back while I watched her in the giant wall mirror. But what I loved most with Fatima that I didn't have with any of the other girls was the great conversations we had. We shared the opinion that most people's ideas about love and relationships were fucked-up and unworkable. But while we shared that opinion, I also had a few theories on the subject and Fatima liked to hear them. If she could, she also liked to take them apart, forcing me to think about why I believed in them. It was a fun game which, to be honest, was usually better than the actual sex.

On this particular afternoon, I was lying naked on my front having the usual back and shoulder massage. Fatima's massage technique was nowhere near professional standard, but I didn't care. Looking at her peachy bottom in the mirror while she worked on me was certainly no hardship.

'Can I ask you something?' said Fatima as she pressed her thumbs into the back of my neck muscles.

'Mmm.'

'The last time you were here, you said that Romantic Love was a contradiction in terms.'

'Mm-mmm...'

'Well, does that mean that a genuinely loving relationship is impossible? That relationships are always going to be fucked-up sooner or later?'

I lay on my front considering this. Thoughts swirled around in my brain. Eventually, my subconscious brought an idea to the surface.

'I was watching this YouTube video,' I said, 'where a guy was talking about Game Theory. Now, he was applying it to politics and business, but after I finished watching, I started wondering whether it could also be applied to relationships.'

'What's Game Theory?' said Fatima.

'According to this lecture, there are two types of games: finite games and infinite games. A finite game is a game which has a beginning, a middle and an end. Chess is a finite game. Football is a finite game. In fact, any game in which there are established players, clear rules, and which typically end with players winning and losing.'

'But that applies to every game, doesn't it?'

'No, not to infinite games. An infinite game is a game which never ends. The players can change; the rules can change. And the point of the game is not to win or lose, but to keep the game going.'

'What's an example of an infinite game?'

'I suppose a role-playing game,' I said. 'Have you ever heard of Dungeons & Dragons?'

'I had a boyfriend who played World of Warcraft,' said Fatima.

'Isn't that played on the computer?'

'Yes,' she said. 'He had a character in a sort of fantasy world, and he would do these quests or missions with other players. And when they succeeded in their quest, there would be another one and another one and another one. It was never-ending. And he was really proud of how long he kept his character alive.'

'Yeah, I think that qualifies as an infinite game.'

'But what has this to do with romantic relationships?'

'Well, this is my theory,' I said. 'Romance is a finite game, whereas a relationship is an infinite game. And if you play an infinite game believing it's a finite game, you will always fuck things up.'

Fatima's hands stopped moving. I glanced over at her via the mirror. I could see her profile and her expression was serious. She looked down at my back and resumed the massage, but it felt distracted.

'Could you go into that a bit more?' said Fatima.

'Well, take someone you're friends with,' I said. 'You don't say to that friend, "Where is this relationship going?" do you? A friendship is a kind of relationship, but there's no goal. You can't "win" a friendship. In fact, the closest thing to winning is simply to be a good friend, whatever that means for you and the other person. And, if it's a good friendship, to keep it going. That is an infinite game.

'However, with Romance, there is a goal -- a way to "Win the Game". Maybe you win the game when you find your soulmate. Or when you get someone to marry you, or to have sex with you. When pick-up artists get women into bed, they see it as winning. They even refer to seduction skills as 'Game'.'

'Wasn't there a book about that called The Game?' said Fatima.

'Yes,' I said. 'But getting a woman to have sex with you is a finite game. And if sex is all a guy wants from a woman, that also means it's pretty much game over.'

'That's not very nice for the woman.'

'No, it's not.'

Fatima took a break from massaging me. I turned onto my side and looked at her. She was a beautiful girl, kneeling next to me, her breasts facing in my direction. I felt the strong desire to suck her nipples and I looked away. Fatima had clear boundaries and that kind of contact wasn't on her O.K. list. Besides, she was thinking about what I'd said.

'You know, I think getting pregnant is a kind of finite game for a woman,' said Fatima. 'I had a friend who was desperate to have a baby with her boyfriend. She wanted it so much that she went off the pill without telling him.'

'Did it work?'

'Well, she got pregnant, if that's what you mean. Her boyfriend was not happy, but their families all knew each other, so it was the kind of situation where he was under pressure to marry her. My friend was overjoyed, thinking she was going to get the happy family she wanted and that her boyfriend would come round eventually. But when she was eight months pregnant, he vanished -- packed a bag and disappeared. Changed his email addresses and everything. The family got one postcard from Buenos Aires, just to let them know he was alive, and that was the last anyone heard from him to this day'

'Shit...'

'Yeah,' said Fatima. 'The families all hate each other now, each one blaming the other. It's a real mess.'

'I can imagine.'

'But going back to what you said about fucking things up by playing the wrong kind of game, I can see that here. My friend wanted a husband and family, which is an infinite game according to your definition. But she played a finite game to try and get it.'

'Yeah, you could see it like that,' I said.

'You don't agree?'

'Well, you could also say that she didn't know how to play an infinite game.'

Fatima gave me a look.

'Could you explain that?' she said.

'Look, think about how we're taught to go through life,' I said. 'Everything is broken up into finite games, where there's a goal which can be either achieved or not achieved. Getting good grades at school, passing exams, getting into college, figuring out a career path. And I'm not saying that's wrong, by the way. In fact, having a winner's mindset when playing a finite game works really well -- so well, that it's tempting to use it in every situation...'

I stopped mid-flow as a new piece of information was downloaded into my conscious awareness. Fatima looked puzzled and opened her mouth to say something.

'No, wait...' I said. 'I'm just realising something.'

'What?'

'That I don't like infinite games,' I said. 'I much prefer finite games. In fact, I love them.'

'Why?'

'Because finite games have a point. There is a specific goal or objective. You know where you stand with a finite game, even if you're no good at it. I don't like things where there's no clear direction or ending. That's why I can't stand soap operas. And I prefer Hollywood movies to arthouse films, despite their predictability.'

'You don't like unpredictable movies?'

'No, I love them. But there's a difference between a movie which has great plot twists and a movie which simply has no plot.'

Fatima laughed, nodding her head. I was struck by another thought.

'My God,' I said. 'That's why I prefer sex to relationships.'

'What do you mean?'

'With sex, there's a reason to meet up with a woman. You get together to have sex. There's a point. Whereas being in a relationship with a woman is just ... doing shit together. There's no point to it.'

'But isn't being together enough?'

'Not if you like finite games. When you're in the finite game mindset, you're always looking for the reason or purpose behind what you're doing. And "Let's do something nice this afternoon" doesn't cut it. As a man, you have to consciously adjust your mindset when you're in a relationship.'

'Is that what happened in your marriage?' asked Fatima.

'Yes and no,' I said. 'On the one hand, being a woman's husband is a real drag -- every bit as soul-destroying as the feminists say being a wife is for a woman. But being a father is great. And because we had a child to bring up, my wife and I had a shared purpose.'

'Did you still have that after the divorce?'

'Yes. In fact, that was the thing that pulled me through. My ex-wife and I may have had our differences as a man and a woman, but as a mother and a father, we had a job to do -- to somehow facilitate the transformation of a little boy into a self-responsible adult. And we did it, despite everything. Our son is a lovely young man.'

'You must be proud of that.'

'I am.'

I looked at Fatima and felt the tears in my eyes. I shook my head, embarrassed at being so emotional. I realised how much I trusted this girl with my innermost feelings. The thought of fucking her now felt inappropriate. I sat up with my back to the bed's headboard and put one of the pillows on my lap. Fatima raised her eyebrows.

'What's wrong?' she said.

'Nothing,' I said. 'I just sometimes feel a little overwhelmed at how much I like you.'

'I like you too,' she said. 'And I love our conversations.'

'So do I.'

I looked at the wall and a tear rolled down my cheeks, as though some internal tap got turned on. I wiped it away and apologised. Fatima put her hand on my leg and watched me.

'Do you know what I think?' she said. 'I think that no matter how much you love finite games, there's a part of you which wants to master the infinite game.'

'What infinite game would that be?' I said.

'Life.'

I looked at Fatima. She gave a shrug. Take it or leave it. I nodded and sighed.

'Yeah, maybe,' I said. 'Maybe that's why this situation with you is so weird. I came to Club Aphrodite for sex and yet we end up having this conversation. And the part of me which likes finite games is frustrated. It's like a nagging voice which says, "This isn't what we came for!" And yet, talking with you is wonderful. I love this and I don't want to spoil it.'

There was a long silence. Then Fatima knelt up and put her hands on her knees.

'Do you trust me?' she said.

'Yes,' I said.

'Then could you lie down on your back, please?'

I frowned for a moment. Then I did as she asked, moving down onto the bed. Fatima moved aside, pointing to where she wanted me. I did as I was told, my cock coming to life as I wondered what she had in mind. I found out soon enough.

When Fatima was satisfied I was in position, she took a condom from the bedside table and tore off the foil. But instead of kneeling by my hips, she swung her leg across me and lowered her pussy onto my face. For a few glorious moments, I saw that tan bottom of hers right above me, framing her shaved pussy and cute-as-a-button asshole. I put my hands on her buttocks, guiding her down until that beautiful pussy was pressing onto my lips. This was the first time I'd ever licked Fatima out and her cunt was every bit as smooth and delicious as I'd imagined it. At the other end of my body, I felt the warmth of her mouth around my cock. I leaned into her pussy even more, my tongue reaching into her hole and the outside of my mouth getting wetter and wetter from her juices. I heard Fatima groan and felt her mouth going up and down my cock.

For some reason, my subconscious chose this moment to pose the question: 'Is this part of a finite game or an infinite game?' As my hands held Fatima's ass and my mouth slurped her cunt, my brain told my mind to fuck off.

After all ... there is a time and a place for such things.