I shouldn't have to write this but it seems that some men have a problem. I have heard so many stories from escorts about the appalling way some men behave that I almost feel ashamed of my gender. I have been meeting escorts for many years and I post this in the hope that it may be seen by some of my fellow men and help them to rethink how they behave.
The first thing to say is that escorts are professionals and are entitled to the same respect as any other professional. That means being polite and making an effort to understand the basis on which a service is being offered. Read their web site or Adult Work profile carefully - and read all of it. If the escort is clear that she does not provide a particular service do not send her a message asking if she will provide it for you. If there are things you are genuinely uncertain about seek clarification but do so politely. Many escorts specifically refer to the need for clients to pay attention to hygiene and personal cleanliness. They shouldn't need to do this but they have learned from bitter experience just how slovenly some men can be. You should be clean and well presented. If you are expecting the escort to kiss you should also clean your teeth thoroughly and use any mouthwash that is offered by the escort (if you haven't taken your own with you). If you are unable to shower before your meeting let her know and she will almost certainly enable you to take a shower when you arrive - even if you did shower and you are offered the chance to do so again take it and at least make sure your genital area is scrupulously clean. It is a long time since I have been on a date except with an escort but surely anyone meeting a person they want to make a good impression on will think about personal grooming, how they dress and be polite and interested in the other person. Why not treat an escort in the same way - there is a good chance she will reciprocate and you will both have a better time than if you treat her like a piece of meat. A friend of mine thinks the problem is the nature of much of the porn that is watched by men these days and I think she is right. Dami Olonisakin (Oloni) recently published a book called The Big O. An Empowering Guide to Loving, Dating and Fucking " (HarperCollins £20).She cited a study of 800 university students which found that just 39% of women"always or usually" orgasmed during sex but 91% of men did. Another study foound that only 65% of straight women orgasmed against 86% during Lesbian sex Dr Laurie Mintz coined the term "Orgasm Gap" and in her "Becoming Cliterate"(pub. HarperOne, May 2017), she reported that 78% of women's orgasm problems were caused by not enough or not the right kind of clitoral stimulation. It seems many men, particularly young men, either don't know or don't care or maybe are just in too much of a hurry to shove their penis into a vagina. I must be honest and say it did take me some time to understand that every woman will have different needs if she is to orgasm (including treating her well before hand of course) but now I try very hard to be upfront and ask what will work and then work on that basis. And when seeing an escort I always establish whether she would like to have an orgasm during our time together. It may be that she prefers not to and saves that for when she is with a partner but if she does we talk about it and I have had some wonderful sessions when we have helped each other to come. There is so much more to be said - things like not getting pissed or drugged up before your date, not asking for services she doesn't provide and never, ever, ever asking if you can penetrate her without a condom. Never haggle about the price and deal with the payment as soon as you arrive - nothing spoils a sexy date faster than arguing about money, But this would become a pamphlet not a blog post if I do so take a look at this piece written by a sex worker in Australia which is full of good advice. Escorts are a bit like sportspeople I sometimes think - they work hard to keep their bodies in condition and use their minds to try and deliver something that works well. But like a good sports game it needs everyone to play by the same rules so please think about how you present yourself both physically and socially and you will find you have a much better time with the lady of your choice. And finally a word for those ladies being let down when it comes to orgasms - find an old guy and you won't be disappointed!
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Creator: Silver Screen Collection | Credit: Getty Images Copyright: 2016 Silver Screen Collection When I was a young man I watched the movie Cabaret and fell in love with Sally Bowles played by Liza Minnelli. On stage Sally exuded self confident sexuality but off stage she was sweet and vulnerable. I was so taken with the world the film portrayed that I began to read the Chistopher Isherwood books it was based on. The city described by Isherwood was living on borrowed time and the Nazis destroyed that freedom and in the years that followed the Soviet Union imposed a drab authoritarian regime on half the city while the western half was an isolated outpost of capitalism.
If I had been a time traveller I would have headed for the Berlin of Isherwood but in the real world all I could do was watch the film again and again and fantasize about Liza/Sally (I’m sure that is where my love of a woman in stockings and suspenders started) And then the wall came down and the city came back to life. In the years after I had to visit the city often for work and explored it’s bars, cafes, galleries, museums and inevitably its brothels. There was an enlightened view of sex work that meant it was legal and well managed. There were numerous brothels which had none of the seediness that was common in London and the women who worked there were treated well. I had only a little German but most of the girls spoke English and I had some wonderful relaxed afternoons that made me love the city even more. Many of those brothels have gone and there are now some mega brothels in their place. I haven’t visited them myself and they have no appeal to me. I have it on good authority, however, that if you are young and enjoy sex there are plenty of places where you will find like minded people. Sadly I while I enjoy sex and still love pushing my limits an apparently respectable old man is unlikely to be welcome in such places. The extraordinary Templehof airport in the city centre where we used to land and walk straight to our hotel (and where the planes flew in during the Berlin AirLift) is long gone and the city itself has changed at a staggering pace though it still retains some of its charm and some extraordinary historical reminders. Sitting in the national stadium watching Hertha Berlin play just a few yards from where Hitler had addressed those huge crowds was a strange experience. I rarely visit these days and when I do my wife is with me. But I do miss the sex. Having illicit sex felt like I was honouring the tradition of decadence that Berlin had for so many years. One of the old style brothels does survive though. Liberty rather splendidly is just behind the famous KaDeWe department store on the Kudam! When we visit that store I hope my wife doesn’t notice the wistful look on my face. I keep hoping that something will come up requiring me to visit the city alone one more time - even a day trip so I could relive one of those afternoons of 30 years ago would make an old man happy!. The Barefoot Sub's kind comments last week inspired me to consider what Michael did next and in the spirit of WW it will undoubtedly include some cooking. I should also make clear that despite sharing a name this Michael bears little relationship to myself though I can still be nervous when meeting someone for the first time as I once explained here Part 1 is here Michael had bought the most expensive biscuits he could find in the corner shop and spent a long time in the bathroom not only showering but grooming himself too. He wasn't sure why he had done this as it was just a coffee with a neighbour after all. But he did know why. She had said "or something more if you like" and he had been wondering about that ever since. He was still quite young and his body was in good shape thanks to the early morning runs and careful diet. He knew he was attractive to women but had only ever had sex with one woman - his wife and even though he often thought about doing something different in bed he never quite had the nerve to tell her. He was almost ready to ascend the stairs when he heard someone coming down and leaving. Disappointment descended on him and he slumped in a chair. A few moments later he heard noise from upstairs and was transformed. He leapt from the chair, out of the door and bounded up the stairs and before he had a chance to doubt the wisdom of it was knocking on her door. She took a moment to answer and when she did he could see that she was wearing a dressing gown and frowning. Then she looked at him and smiled "Oh its you. I thought it was ..well never mind what I thought. You've come for that coffee haven't you?" she said and before he could do more that push the biscuits towards her she went on " I was just taking a shower and then I was going to cook some supper - why don't you join me in a couple of hours? It will just be a simple Italian meal." He tried to say something but no words emerged. " OK - see you at 6.30 and you can bring the wine." she added. He turned and headed back down heard her call after him "My name is Gabriela - what's yours?". "Michael" he stuttered as he heard her door closing. At the appointed hour he was standing outside her door once more this time holding a bottle of wine from the store. He knew nothing about wine but hoped an Italian red would be appropriate. This time she was smiling and wearing what looked like a loosely fitting man's shirt with the top two buttons open to reveal her cleavage. It stopped at the top of her legs which were bare as were her feet. She leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the cheek and he felt his pulse race. He tried to remember if that had ever happened before and drew a blank. Once inside he could smell something rich and spicy and she walked through to the little kitchen and started cooking the pasta. The meal was wonderful and they talked about food. She was from an Italian family and had been cooking from an early age. He explained that he knew little beyond the most basic recipes and that his wife did most of the cooking and insisted that their meals be calorie controlled and contain no meat. She began to apologise for serving him a Bolognese sauce but for the first time in her presence he laughed. "I love meat and when I have to go for meals with people for work that's what I choose - thought with water rather than wine. of course" He was aware that he had now drunken two glasses and he felt emboldened to pay her several compliments about her cooking and now about her long red hair. He realised that he might be over stepping the mark and hastily excused himself saying "May I use the bathroom?" She nodded and he didn't ask for directions as it was a small flat. However the first door he tried was the bedroom. For a moment he was puzzled by what he saw and then it began to come into focus and as it did his face reddened and yet again his pulse rose. Hanging on the wall were some canes and what looked like leather whips and paddles while on the bed were some leather straps and chains. He turned and quickly went back to the living room fully intent on leaving but she was standing waiting having realised what he had done. "I'm sorry you had to see what was in there but please don't go. Let me explain." She insisted that they sit in the easy chairs and refilled their glasses. His couldn't get the image of the bedroom out of his mind and he also kept recalling that when he had trouble ejaculating while having sex with his wife the most sure fire way to hurry things along was to imagine himself striking her bottom over and over again until it was red and hot to the touch. Gabriela explained that her day job paid poorly but that she had found a way to supplement her income. He stopped her as he might be naive but he did know that some women provided men with services for money. It was probably the drink that loosened his tongue but he heard himself saying "Do you hit them or do they hit you?" "It can be either" she replied and the with that wonderful smile of her's she added "Which would you prefer?" The old man was an imposing figure and as he looked down at Michael he felt an involuntary shiver. The deep voice only added to his nervousness. “Do you have anything to confess?” Michael knew that his whole future would be decided in the next few minutes and so he thought very hard. After several minutes he replied “I did once take a train ride without paying”. Saint Peter paused and looked at the old man before him more closely before asking “Were you faithful to your wife, sober in all you did and never lusted after other men or women?”. “Er..I guess that's right” Michael replied “I did work very hard and always avoided being alone with other women, I didn’t take drugs or ever drink more than half a pint of shandy or a small glass of champagne a few times at weddings.” “Very well, in you go.” said Saint Peter “You will find a few like minded souls there already but don’t expect to have much fun!” Michael awoke with a start. For a moment he had thought he was standing at the pearly gates being judged. His life had indeed been blameless so far and all he had to look forward to was more of the same it seemed. He was alone in the bed as his wife was away seeing her ageing aunt and he had been planning to clean the flat thoroughly and surprise her on her return with a nutritionally balanced vegan meal. A noise from the flat upstairs reminded him about the new tenant.
She seemed to be a single young woman who had quite a lot of visitors, sometimes quite late at night. He had been taken aback when they had passed in the hall while putting out the rubbish - she had been wearing a very short skirt and a top that emphasised her large breasts. He had tried hard not to look and focused on her face which despite the makeup was pretty and her smile seemed warm and genuine. He had been polite but nothing more but she had said “I like to get to know my neighbours so why don’t you come up for a coffee sometime?” as she ascended the stairs. He had mumbled something non-committal and tried not to look at her arse but she had turned and added “or something more if you like.” He had pretended not to hear and hurriedly returned to his own flat feeling his face turn red with embarrassment. Despite his good intentions he had found himself wondering what she meant and it had taken a great effort of will to turn his thoughts to other matters like the charity fundraising work he had signed up to do later. As he tried to process his dream and its implications the image of her arse came back into his head and unconsciously his hand moved to hold his cock which started to stiffen. And suddenly he knew what the dream meant - living a blameless life meant missing out on a lot of fun so tonight he would take up her offer and perhaps, finally, do something he could regret. What happened next?
Ah the sisters of mercy, they are not departed or gone
They were waiting for me when I thought that I just can't go on And they brought me their comfort and later they brought me this song Oh, I hope you run into them, you who've been travelling so long Leonard Cohen The touch of her hands, her lips, her body calms me, nourishes me, gives me energy that sustains me long after we part. She is beautiful and her body shows the care she takes of it. I remember so clearly the first time we were together. She opened her legs and the beautiful, fragrant, private place she shared with me reminded me of A, who was in my life for a few, extraordinary months two decades earlier. She explored my body without hesitation and took me to a place that only a woman’s touch can. I know I am not alone in spending a few, short hours with her. She sometimes speaks of others and some see her more frequently but I don’t feel envy. I know that her gift by its very nature needs to be shared. When we meet for coffee or speak on the phone she is both funny and business like, sometimes exasperated and occasionally angry. Far too often she encounters people who simply fail to understand or value what she offers. When we are naked she visibly relaxes, a smile spreads across her face and her body softens. She is in her domain, the place where her hard won skills and natural warmth work together to create something remarkable even magical as she makes my fantasies real. I have lain naked with many women - sometimes I charmed them from their clothes but others I paid. Some had a sexual energy that permitted no inhibitions, no nervousness on my part but it had been years since I experienced the pure release that such openness brings. Now I know I speak about my secret desires without being afraid that she will shrink away and it is an unexpected joy. She does not always consent but the conversation and sometimes negotiation encourages me to keep asking. At times she displays a charming modesty. She never asks to be pleasured but I know she has needs of her own and I try but there are times when my incompetent fumblings fail to take her to orgasm and she has to do it for herself. She then apologies quite unnecessarily but it is such a sweet thing to do. She does make clear what she expects from her lovers and it is deeply disappointing that she is let down by men who fail to recognise her for the superb professional she has become. She describes herself as the “Ultimate Courtesan” and she is right to do so indeed she would not have been out of place in 16th century Venice catering to the needs of the city’s rich and powerful. She does so much more than give me a few hours of pure pleasure. She gives something which sustains me long after we have parted and I return to my wife. A wife I love deeply though our sexual needs and appetites have changed. There have been times when a work colleagues offer of coffee and lingering touch have been an unmistakable invitation. But I know what happens when an affair begins. I have been in that place before and I know the risks and they are risks I am no longer willing to take. And so it is that this extraordinary woman helps keep that marriage alive. She is not the only courtesan I see and she encourages me to meet others. She knows how I have this need to fuck masked strangers but it is Julia that I return to and talk to about my adventures. She listens, shares and helps open me up to new experiences but always she gives me nourishment, warmth and that sustaining energy I take away with me. She is special and I count myself fortunate to have found her. The English language does not provide the right words to describe what we share - I give her money when we meet but she gives me things that have no monetary value. I know the day will come when her life takes her elsewhere but until then I will continue to relish my minutes spent with this sweet sister of mercy. When I left they were sleeping, I hope you run into them soon Don't turn on the lights, you can read their address by the moon And you won't make me jealous if I hear that they sweetened your night We weren't lovers like that and besides, it would still be alright Leonard Cohen Life, as it sometimes does, has distracted me from sex itself let alone blogging about it for months now but I did so want to post this week. WW is wonderful thing and as a latecomer to it I wanted to say thank you to Marie who also somehow finds time to encourage us personally as well as doing all the hard work. Thanks to all the others who post, comment and have made a newbie feel at home (and a little less lonely!) Time, as is well known, sometimes flies like a bird and sometimes crawls like a worm, but human beings are generally particularly happy when they don't notice whether it's passing quickly or slowly. Ivan Turgenev Photograph by Igor Wrapa, www.wrapashouse He was utterly aware of the passage of time. He knew exactly how long it took for 400 hours, 24,000 minutes, 1,440,000 seconds to pass and as the 400th hour ended the phone rang.
It was the call he had been dreading, the call he had been longing for yet before he could answer it stopped and he felt physically sick - he had missed the opportunity. Seconds later a text arrived saying "Be here in 1 hour. This is your first and only chance to please me." He had been put in touch with her by a Dominatrix he visted who Madam had trained. He had submitted his application and eventually received a reply giving him a time and place to attend. He had been blindfolded on arrival and as far as he knew was never in her presence. He had no idea what she looked like anyway as she had no internet presence and only accepted referrals from those she trusted. He had been met that first time by a young woman who described herself as Madam's amanuensis. She had told him to remove his clothing so that she could fit him with a penis cage which she then locked. Once he was dressed again she steered him to the door and whispered that after 400 hours he would receive a call which he must respond to at once. She then gave him a package, deftly removed his blindfold and pushed him back out into the street. The package contained dietary and exercise instructions and three butt plugs of different sizes. It did not contain the key to his cock cage. During the next 16 days he followed the exercise and dietary regime and inserted the plugs each morning as instructed. 400 hours without ejaculation at first seemed an impossibly long time but he settled into a routine and learned that he could even forget that he was caged at least for a few minutes at a time. He looked again at the text and began to do what he had mentally rehearsed so many times. His heart was pounding - never in a lifetime of sexual adventures had he wanted something this badly and now he was going to give himself to her to do with as she wished. The same young woman met him at the door dressed in black latex and said "Madam has instructed me to see that you are scrubbed, shaved and given a high colonic. Please do as I instruct and do not speak other than to answer a direct question." An hour later, satisfied that Madam would approve of her work, she led him into the next room. The cock cage remained in place but a steel ring had been added around his testicles. It had been impossible to stop him self becoming aroused as he was handled by the beautiful young woman and his semi erect penis was pushing against the cage painfully. She had shackled his hands behind and placed a collar placed around his neck before blindfolding him again. He was acutely aware that his emotions were in turmoil and fear was close to the surface even though he also longed to meet the woman he had fantasised about so often. At the young woman's prompting he climbed the stairs and halted as instructed. He felt her hand on his shoulder and responded to her gentle push by walking forward several paces. He stopped as she removed her hand and a moment later he heard a door close behind him. He stood, shaking, for what seemed like many minutes before hearing the door open and then close again. He heard the unmistakable sound of high heels walking towards him and as they stopped he became aware of the heat of a body close by. "Boy, you will answer my questions by a nod or shake of your head" The voice was warm and slightly accented. He nodded. "Do you consent to be used in any way I choose?" He swallowed hard and nodded again. "Have you ever been pegged? This time he shook his head. "Now take two steps forward" He did and felt something at hip height then rubber gloved hands pushed him forward while pulling his steel encased cock and ball down and below the board he was now lying on. A strap was quickly pulled across his back and fastened tightly. There was no going back - he was utterly at her mercy. He heard the door open once more and again high heeled footsteps approach. He felt the gag being loosened and was told "Open wide". The rubber penis was bigger than the gag and was pushed almost to the opening of his throat making him gag before being pulled back a little. "Start sucking" he was instructed by Madam. As he settled into a rhythm he felt his legs being nudged apart and then the electrifying feel of a finger probing his anus. His cock was instantly hard but again he felt hard steel of the cage prevent him becoming fully erect. The finger probing his back passage was replaced by something larger and colder that went deeper than he had ever experienced. It felt good but it too was soon removed. And then he felt something a softer and warmer nudging his rosebud. This felt like flesh and he wanted to scream but as if she had read his thoughts Madam said "Stay calm foolish boy - it is a strap on you can feel not some pathetic man's appendage." He relaxed and let it enter him - the strokes were hard, deep and repeated. He lost all sense of time - surely he always been penetrated by two cocks? Then, without warning both were withdrawn and for a few seconds he thought his ordeal was over but the hard sting of a paddle told him he was wrong. His gag was replaced before the caning began and mentally he counted the strokes. He had never taken more than 25 before but that landmark was soon passed As he tried to avoid tensing he appreciated the skill with which he was being beaten - each stroke somehow finding a fresh piece of flesh. As his pain intensified he desperately wanted the beating to cease yet he dreaded the last stroke. Once past 50 part his mind began to think about the significance that had been given to the number 400 and he knew that he simply could not survive 400 strokes. But at 75 the caning ceased. There was a long silence though he was aware of the two women moving about the room and finally Madam spoke but to her assistant not to him. "I am done with it. You can send it on its way or play with it some more if you wish. The rest of the night is yours but I shall expect my breakfast brought to me at 9 sharp." He realised that he still had not seen her face and now he never would as he heard her heels move to the door and out. The young woman removed the strap, gag and blindfold and he saw that she was wearing a strap on. "May ask which you were" he asked hesitantly and was surprised when she giggled and said "I was face fucking you - Madam always likes to stretch the little rosebud of virgins like you. We'd better get you cleaned up" she said briskly "follow me". His pulse had begun to slow as she gently but expertly cleaned him and applied salves to his many wounds. Finally she took a key from around her neck and unlocked the cock cage. She washed his penis and held it in her hand. "It doesn't seem very hard now" she said smiling at him which made it twitch a little "Shall I see if its still working properly?" she added as she leaned down and took the rapidly hardening cock between her bright red lips." And then he realised that while the ordeal might be over extraordinary pleasures still lay ahead before the night was over. After midnight We're gonna let it all hang out After midnight We're gonna chug-a-lug and shout We're gonna cause talk and suspicion Give an exhibition Find out what it is all about J J Cale - After Midnight Not really about "Ceremony" WW#390 although given half a chance I make it something of a ritual - not writing much at the moment so sharing this while its fresh Once, before the internet, I lived alone in a part of town where there was a local paper published every Friday. At the back of the paper in the personals were advertisements for massage parlours and escort agencies. Sometimes I would find myself late in the evening wanting to fuck a woman and the newspaper would call out to me.
Finally I would give in and look at the ads, circle an agency and call the number. The receptionist would begin by letting me know who was working that evening but back then I wasn’t looking for any particular kinks just a good looking woman who was ready to be fucked. Back then I could drink a lot but still get rock hard without any assistance so it was straightforward hard cock in tight vagina I wanted. Once we had established that someone like "Blonde Jennifer aged 25" was available and could be with me in 30 minutes, we agreed on the length of her visit and the price and I put down the phone. My heart would be racing by now and I had to get ready. I would take a shower but I didn’t pay the same attention to personal grooming as I do now. I certainly didn't shave my genitals but then it was very unlikely that Blonde Jennifer would be shaved either but I would be clean and sweet smelling when she arrived. The anticipation was excruciating as I imagined what she might look like, whether she would be wearing stockings, how she would speak but above all how she would behave. Would she be businesslike and just want to get it over with or would she accept my offer of a drink and chat for a while letting me feast on glimpses of her thighs and breasts before kissing me? The street door buzzer disturbed my reverie and I felt my cock instantly harden. This was it – she was standing outside the block and I quickly moved to the door and let her in saying I’m in flat 14 on the second floor. It was nearly 1 am and the noise of her heels on the stone stairs seemed incredibly loud as she made her way up. I now faced a dilemma – did I open the door fully and watch her as she emerged from the stair or wait until she was almost outside? Despite my excitement I would make myself wait until I could hear her approach the door. Now it was game on – in a few second I would see the woman who would be ready to open her legs and let me push my penis into her cunt. The thrill of seeing the face of that stranger is simply one of the best things I did, and still do – what comes later will be satisfying but nothing compares to those first few seconds. This time she is beautiful, she is smiling, she is dressed in a way that emphasises her figure and she is here to be fucked. I have no idea how many times I did this and albeit in a different ways that thrill is something I still pursue and those escorts who don’t reveal their faces like Jade or Carla have given me some utterly memorable sessions. Two of those encounters from that time stick in my mind. There was the girl with long brown hair who dressed like she was heading for the local pub rather than a sexual encounter. She was pretty and spoke openly about only working occasionally as an escort. She said she enjoyed having sex and if she didn’t have a regular boyfriend she contacted the agency and asked them to arrange a few clients for her. The mind plays funny tricks and I remember clearly that she was wearing a pair of really good fishnet stockings that I took great delight in caressing as I move towards her vagina to prepare it for penetration. The other was a a slim short haired blonde in her early twenties who seemed a little nervous when she arrived and reluctant to remove her clothes. Eventually she confessed that she wasn’t really an escort at all! She was the receptionist and when I called she was knew that all the escorts were busy and wouldn't be making any more visits that night. She was, of course, well aware that they would be paid more for having sex with a single client than she would for a whole shift and she had decided to take the booking herself. My first reaction was to tell her to leave but she persuaded me that she really was happy for me to fuck her and removed her her skirt and knickers to prove it. Strangely she insisted on keeping her tee shirt on however. She proved to be an enthusiastic partner but years later I realised what an opportunity I missed. A young pretty girl was giving me the opportunity to be her first paying customer and I should have given her encouragement and support and taught her how to please me rather than just fuck her. It is something that I really only learned later – the best escorts will be very clear and even matter of fact about sex but if you make an effort to ensure the experience is enjoyable for them too you will be rewarded! I know escorts who have orgasms with me and I am certain they are for real and I am always clear that I am happy to do whatever it is that they enjoy in return for the pleasure they give me. It would never have occurred to me back then that some girls really do get a kick out of fucking men with a strap on but I am glad I found out. The wider world has changed just as my private world has changed in the years since but the thrill of hearing those high heels clicking toward my door remains with me still. In fact I think I shall have very soon have to go to a hotel and arrange for a complete stranger to come knocking at my door after midnight one more time! I was planning to polish the latest instalment in my Isobel narrative and shoehorn it into this week's Wicked Wednesday prompt then I saw that the prompt was "Ritual". I enjoy ritual whether involving sex or not but I am aware that it has also come to sustain the sexual relationship I have with my wife. I found myself thinking about how this had come about and wrote this immediately on rising (getting up not the other!) I haven't really written about my wife here before and I really need to consider why I am sharing this with strangers (even if it feels like some of you are becoming friends) but I'm not going to share it or at least not in this form with her? Photo of the Lady herself taken by Old Mike We met as teenagers and soon there was an urgent need to move on from heavy petting to proper fucking but when and how was driven by lust and circumstance. Later we fucked other people but always came back together. Through our twenties and now a proper “Couple” spontaneity was our watchword and subtlety largely absent unless you include the occasional photo session when we made our own version of the spreads found then in top shelf magazines (sadly none of the pictures survive).
Later we worked hard together to destroy the life we had built as we fucked less, spoke less and shouted more. The pressures from the world outside grew and, though then I couldn’t name it, stress became my companion playing its little tricks on us both. The years apart allowed me do some learning about myself, about sex and about the relationships between people who fuck each other. I wrote about one part of that here. But the connection between us was never fully severed and it wasn't long before clandestine fucking during the hours of daylight was taking place. Soon enough we were one again a publicly acknowledged “Couple” and then a “Married Couple” and our sex became more adventurous and experimental for a while. Our honeymoon in New York established the erotic power of even quite downmarket hotels. We worked together then – literally running a business for a couple of years – and survived. Spontaneous sex became less frequent but a the first iteration of our ritual sustained a us and for a while even enabled us to explore some mild kinks. During our time apart we had become used to sleeping alone in double beds and though now married we continued to do so. Practically it made sense as our sleep patterns are different and it also allowed me to indulge in early morning fantasies while she slept on. We were kinder to each other now too and provided mutual support through cancer, accidents, joint replacements, redundancies, family losses and sometimes even the need to cope with success. I knew my old acquaintance, stress, better though he had brought his best buddy, alcohol, to stay too. It became our everyday resort without ever becoming a “problem”. These last few months though I have learned that if you send both those little buggers packing your desire for sex is magically and sometimes rather problematically restored! Looking back I also realise just how many times we spurned a chance to fuck because we were "Too tired" in other words "half pissed by 8 pm". And so it became our practice to arrange sex “dates” where without naming it we would play out our ritual. Sometimes work would mean we were apart for a few nights and carefully worded texts might lead to some serious fucking on my return. The night she collected me at the station wearing only stockings under her coat (I checked of course) still snuggles warmly in some alcove of my filthy mind. But when we entered the bedroom – always mine as her involved a platform bed 6 feet in the air – the ritual would commence. And so on into our fifties and for her the menopause. It wasn’t the worst but it still took its toll and looking back I realise that our sexual performances while continuing to be ever less frequent also took on their near final ritual pattern at that point. Today we are in our sixties and that ritual is well rehearsed. It is important because we still find it hard to talk about our sexual needs and it allows us to to make love without extensive negotiations. Sometimes I think I should just accept that fucking at all in our mid sixties is something to be happy about but then I think how our teenage selves would have envied us having the time and opportunity to whatever we wanted when we wanted. And so to the ritual itself. It begins by fixing a time and place and as the hour approaches I tidy the bedroom, arrange the music (usually Goldfrapp’s Supernature), prepare the candles, close the curtains, clean the toys and cock rings, lay out the lube, wipes and finally put my anal plug in the bathroom so I can nip out and slip it in at some point. We both shower and she opens a bottle of something sparkling. She has a good selection of play clothes which we add to from time to time. There is now a trade off between how they look and the practicalities of fucking however. The PVC cat suit can cause an almost instant erection but has to be removed before serious action can take place. The negotiations to replace it with a more adaptable rubber one are going about as well as those concerning Brexit as I find latex a stimulant while she finds it a turn off! Usually stockings, heels and some flimsy underwear suffice though I am optimistic that a recently acquired leather dress is going to serve us well. And then we begin. We stand and face each other and I to stroke and probe and kiss her. I remove just enough of her clothing make her her cunt and nipples accessible. After a few minutes she moves to the bed, glass in hand, while I strip down to a jock strap. I then join her and continue to explore her body, removing her heels, encouraging her to grasp the headboard, spreading her lips and beginning to take her to orgasm. Being a man I think I am quite skilled at this and mix it up with tongue, fingers and a variety of vibrators. Recently we have begun to use the Le Joue Mimi for clitoral stimulation - it seems to provide a very deep buzz that works a treat on her. I would happily lick her cunt and clitoris for a longer time but she has stopped shaving and has never been a great one for giving me feedback anyway. Oh how I wish I could arrange a conversation between her and Julia who recently gave me an absolute master class (or should that be mistress class?) in how to help a man work your clitoris with just lips and tongue all the way to orgasm. Most times we get there and when it goes well her orgasms are impressive and nearly 50 years after the first time I still enjoy seeing her nipples grow hard and a red flush creep up her neck before she begins to spasm and thrash about. After a brief period of recovery we move to the final part of our ritual. I prepare my cock to be as hard as I can get it these days using cock rings and a plug that puts pressure on my prostate and add some lube before penetrating her. This time while my cock is exploring her cunt, slowly pushing apart her lips before pressing deep inside is an absolutely critical time for our whole relationship. It is almost the only time we make eye contact and verbalise our love for each other as though we mean it rather than something said as part of everyday routine. These times are infrequent but I believe they sustain us as a couple who have been lovers on and off for nearly fifty years as well as being best friends for all that time. It is rare that ejaculation takes place inside her vagina as this can take an awfully long time now so the ritual draws to a close with my cum being spread on her tits and stomach. There is always room for enhancement and one day I may take my courage in my hands and spill the spunk on her face then give her a lingering kiss before she has time to say “yuk”. Yesterday I was made arrangements to meet up with Jade another one of my favourite escorts next week for some uninhibited sex play but thanks to Marie’s prompt I have been reminded that it has been too long since I took part in our own private ritual. I rather think I need to do something about that very soon - possibly even this very evening – but first I just need to bribe the 20 year old to go out for a few hours, not fulminate too much about politics over breakfast, remember to be supportive when she lags behind on the morning run and perhaps swap St. Vincent for Goldfrapp on the bedroom CD player.... Newspaper headline "Middle East Deadline" Jazz musicians are down on the breadline Soho (needless to say) I'm alone on your streets on a Friday evening Soho (needless to say), Al Stewart This week's prompt is "Unmentionable" and while some of the things Carla and I did might be unmentionable in polite company that isn't the link. The very fact that I had a joyous two hours with her is unmentionable to my friends, my family and in particular, my wife, which is a shame because it was a lot of fun but at least I can share it with you! PS - Isobel will be back next week Picture of Carla James used with her permission It felt good being back in Soho with sex on my mind but the nerves that usually reach a crescendo as the time of an appointment approaches were strangely absent. I was about to spend the afternoon playing out an extended scene with one of London's most accomplished role players yet I wasn't nervous! Had I known what the next two hours would involve I would have been but Carla's warmth had shone through our email exchanges as we worked out the roles we would play - I the "Master" and she the "Submissive" albeit one who knew what she wanted and how to get it only too well.
And then there were the masks! I have long harboured a fantasy about sex with a complete stranger while we are both masked - only when my cock is deep in her cunt are the masks removed and we see each other's faces for the first time. By the time I left that particular itch was going to be well and truly scratched. The flat had a delightfully decadent feel while the four poster hinted of pleasures to come. When I emerged from the shower I found "Miss James" standing tall in heels, stockings and exquisite underwear - she looked me in the eye and handed me a collar and leash. I resisted the temptation to lay hands on her arse and spank it because she needed to be collared and then made to kneel before me so she could take my cock between her lips for the first but not the last time that afternoon. I knew Carla could switch and I had given her free rein to take her character where she wanted but there was a palpable tension in the air when Miss James first asserted herself and made it clear that if I was to continue to enjoy her body I would need to let the alpha female out to play for a while. In that mood she was just a little frightening and I really shouldn't have encouraged her read my about the caning given to me by Julia because before long I understood what the four poster was really for as I was first tied to it then flogged. But there is only so much a man can take and I reasserted myself making it clear that it was now time for her to present that marvellous rear for some attention. I let her know that if she behaved herself perhaps an orgasm might just be permissible too Unfortunately for her she allowed herself to come much too soon so now she too would feel the sting of the flogger and the paddle. Yet this punishment only served to cause her to demand yet again that I, despite being the master, should actually submit to her perverted desires. However I have been called a gentleman on occasion and it is rude to deny a lady her wish to have a little fun so I felt obliged to do as I was told. Being half choked by Miss James's strap-on cock as it was rammed down my throat may not have been uppermost in my mind earlier while I wandered the streets of my old stomping ground but here I was on my knees learning what a face fuck feels like. When told to present my arse ready for a serious pegging I knew that I would have to make her regret this outrageous behaviour before we finished. The creator of Miss James had told me during our planning that she enjoys giving A play and she now set about demonstrating just how skilled she is at it (and here I must thank Julia who has been mentoring me for some time - had this been my first time I fear I would have been overwhelmed by the extended fucking I had to take). Nevertheless being penetrated so expertly and deeply was a challenge to my self control and I knew that if something wasn't done I would find my self repeating Miss James's error. So I forced myself to call a halt and once more I asserted my dominance of this extraordinary woman by insisted that it was now her turn to kneel and see just how far down her throat she could take a cock - quite a long way as it turned out! Finally it was time for me to fuck this gorgeous, infuriating and alluring creature - and so I did. After a few deep thrusts into that lovely cunt she in turn mounted me and the moment I had been waiting for so long had arrived. As Carla looked down at me first she removed her mask revealing just how pretty that face is and then removed mine too although this revealed a somewhat craggier visage, of course. In my fantasy at this point I not only kiss the beautiful stranger but ejaculate as I do so. I at least managed to kiss those sweet lips however as for the latter I am man of advanced years who had just undertaken an afternoon of extraordinarily vigorous sexual activity - well that's my excuse. Fortunately another of Carla's many virtues is patience so with more than a little manual assistance from her matters eventually reached a highly satisfactory if messy conclusion. Now out of character we chatted for a while and I moaned about how Soho wasn't the same since Jimmy's closed down like I do while Carla told me about where she spends some of her private time and other matters which are no one's business but ours. Carla James is a very special person - you quickly realise that if you met her in any circumstances her warmth and humour would draw you to her and being in her company would help make the world feel like a better place. I don't know what the path was that led her to become the exquisitely skilled professional she is today but for the time we were together she committed herself totally to making our private, intimate drama become a performance that would have merited a standing ovation had there been an audience to witness it. I am a fortunate man to be able to occasionally enjoy such pleasures and I thank Carla for making it possible and I even have a sufficiently large ego to believe her when she said that she too had found it to be a rather "hot" afternoon. Carla James web site can be found here - she is also a rather good advert for the Kinky London Escorts group (KLE) Savior, Annie Clark aka St. Vincent Royalty free Photograph by Anatoly Tiplyashin When I was going through puberty I recall having fantasies about being kidnapped and placed inside a box with a hole in it through which people reached through and "did things" to my penis and testicles. I have no idea where I got this from but it prompted me to do some odd and potentially dangerous things to myself and in particular try and find ways to apply heat to my penis without actually burning it - somehow I survived without doing any lasting harm to myself. I had a very ordinary childhood and adolescence - I wasn't abused and didn't see anything I shouldn't have. Of course by the time I was in my late teens I sort of understood some of the jokes about spanking but really didn't give it much thought. It was my encounter with A (Cheating Heart Reprised) that really started me thinking about pain and restraint. After A my then girlfriend, later wife, who was always relatively passive during sex was happy to be gently restrained but wasn't interested in impact play at all. Inevitably I began to look for opportunities to play out some of my kinky fantasies with sex workers. This didn't go particularly well and I usually ended up with quite mixed feelings. I have written about the first of these encounters in the post "Three Lions on Your Chest" but a few years later I had a great experience in Soho with a gorgeous woman who had the poshest of accents and gave me a whipping that I now realise was really quite gentle - the sex after was pretty damn good too. This time I didn't go back because I was afraid I had enjoyed it too much and could very easily get hooked on someone that lovely! I shall pass quickly over the woman who reminded me of the witches in Macbeth and tied me up then asked me if I wanted my cock chopping off (being British I told her that on the whole I would rather not so she used a vibrator instead and as long as I kept me eyes shut it was OK). There was another very enjoyable Soho encounter with a lady in black latex which involved my one and only experience with electrics. The significance of this is that my sexual bucket list therefore doesn't contain the use of electrical stimulation. What it did have on it until today was taking a caning and yes you can see where this narrative is going! Today I visited the wonderful Julia who I have been enjoying some really hot and inventive sessions with for more than 3 years now. Julia is not a Dominatrix and doesn't seek clients who want that service. However some time ago I spotted a couple of canes in the corner of her room and asked about them. She explained that one or two of her other regular clients had requested that she use them and as she always aims to please she acquired the canes. I have to make a somewhat sordid confession at this point - I have watched quite a few caning movies (and worse - though I do try to avoid the Russian stuff - most of it is vile) and really rather enjoyed most of them. I even visited a professional spankee once but frankly wasn't too clever with the cane myself so we did something else which was quite good fun too!. But for years I have felt I need to know what it feels like to have a cane coming down across your arse and trusting Julia as I do I decided that today was the day. Now many of the bloggers who post on Wicked Wednesday are themselves experienced subs or switches - I am in awe of the beatings that The Bibulous One takes and I am very clear that I did little more than dabble today. However after warming me up with a flogger and a paddle Julia delivered 6 strokes - I was then ridiculously pleased with myself when I asked for another 3! It wasn't a severe beating by any standard but it helped me to understand the comment made by Niki Flynn in her book, Dances with Werewolves (1) "It's not the caning itself I get off on: it's the aftermath. I don't actually like being caned; I like having been caned." Afterwards we proceeded to have a really good time the details of which are not relevant to this post other than to say a huge thank you to Julia for a morning I will long remember. When I got home I thought it wise to check for bruising - alright I was hoping that there would be some evidence so I could feel like I really had been caned - and yes there was! (2) Next item on the Sex bucket list is a role play with one KLE's finest but that is still in the planning phase. I know I am trying to turn fantasy into reality but some fantasies have to stay that way - unless anyone can let me have Annie Clark's phone number? Meanwhile despite being inordinately pleased with my marks I will have to spend Easter making sure my wife doesn't see them - so I thought I'd share them with you instead.
(1) - the book was drawn to my attention by one òf the Bibulous One's posts and it really is worth reading - even if you don't have the slightest interest in caning or spanking. You can get it as a Kindle download from Amazon - I rather hope my wife will assume its just another of the Urban Fantasy novels I read and not bother opening it! (2) - in case you were wondering taking a picture of your own arse isn't really all that difficult if you have a good camera! |
Old MikeAn old man called Mike remembers sex in London before the internet, rants about the hypocrisy of today's society and shares some links to the best companions around today...... Archives
November 2022
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