You Also Remember the Really Good Times
Since I ended the last entry on a slight downer, I think I'll devote this entry less to the philosophy of my sex-addiction and more to purely salacious details. After all, what's the point of having "Sex" in the title of the journal, if you aren't going to at least occassionally titillate?
After the initial dive into commercial sex, I eventually got used to it. Oh, I still feel a twinge every time, even this last time the day before my birthday. But I also allow myself to thoroughly enjoy it, and get the most out of it. How else can I justify the expense? Like I said previously, I like to have certain options available to me in an encounter (kissing, going down), so I'm often cautious about trying new faces, and generally rely on a series of good reviews before I'll take the chance. And I'm not too hung up on conventional beauty or body-types-- if a person has a good reputation as a companion, I'm going to give it a try even if they aren't fashion-model pretty or fashion-model thin. Candy (the one I had my last go-round with) was very highly regarded, though most reviewers commented negatively on her face, and her age. But I decided to give it a shot.
Candy works through one of those "apartment massage" agencies. I'd seen other girls of theirs before, so I didn't have to go through the full phone-screening. Unlike most of the girls, Candy was way off the beaten path. I ended up running a little late for having had trouble finding the place. Once I got there, I was pleasantly surprised: Candy was actually pretty cute. No movie star by any measure, but from the reviews I had been expecting to need to keep my eyes squeezed shut. Her build was fairly slight, and her hair was a little on the stringy side, but I was sure I would have no problems getting it up for her. I hopped into the shower, both because I could use it and to make sure she knew I was cleaning myself up for her, and scrubbed away. When I was done, she was waiting outside the tub to towel me down . Then we moved to the bed.
(This is where it starts to get salacious. If you've been waiting for this, your wait is over. If you don't want to read textual porn, now's a good time to go Google something.)
I laid down on my stomache. Because these fronts operate under the illusion of "massage parlors", you generally have to wait through 10-15 minutes of half-hearted massage, at least until the woman knows and trusts you. This is usually a lot of poking and pinching, but Candy had a very light, gentle touch. I really enjoy light caresses as foreplay. After 5-10 minutes, she had me roll over on my back. I'm naked, and I'm turned on. And on me, the one means you cannot ignore the other. But she did, for the next 5 minutes or so. More caresses, never actually touching that central core. 15 or so minutes have passed, and I feel like I could drive a six-inch spike though a board with my penis. She looks up at me with a slight smile and that look in her eyes. I think, "At last! Let the sucking of the cock commence!"
Nope.
She proceeds to rim me. I've been rimmed before, it rocks. In fact, in the shower earlier I took care to wash all over, just in case this were an option. And oh thank god I did, because this woman isn't just licking tentatively-- she's going over my ass with the energy and enthusiasm I put into eating a woman out. I swear to god I'm going to explode, and she's barely touched my cock with her hands. She doesn't just do this for a few minutes, either. She sits up momentarily and hikes my legs up to my chest, as if I were the woman and she were about to slide in to the hilt. If she'd had a strap-on, she could have, too. I was so wet from her tongue I doubt there would have been much resistance. But that wasn't her goal-- she just wanted even better access to my ass. At this point, I'm reduced to a quivering, jelly-like mass. Except for one part that has taken on the nature of solid steel wrapped in a layer of velvet. I have no sense of time. All I am able to do is revel in the feelings and work to keep from coming.
She stops. She pulls my legs back down to the bed. I look down just in time to see most of my cock disappear into her mouth. Understand two things-- (1) I'm above-average in girth as well as length, and (2) she's not a very big girl to begin with. But she gets almost all of it down. And if I thought she could rim, I wasn't at all prepared for this. Like I said in the previous entry, she's probably forgotten more than most working girls will ever know, when it comes to giving head. And I have an oral fixation, so now I'm pretty much picturing Joe Pesci in Goodfellas in order to keep from exploding. This woman has a rep for getting guys to pop several times, but I don't have that much faith in myself, and I want this to last. So when she pulls off and reaches for the condom, I'm actually relieved. I rarely orgasm in a condom, I usually have to remove it and finish by hand or orally. This will help me regain my cool, and last longer, I think. Hah!
She lays back, and I enter her missionary-style. I should point out that we've been kissing a lot the whole time, from when I arrived. So there she is, looking up at me, kissing me, and gripping me like a prom date. I am so completely over. When the coming starts, I am just a slave to it. There's no stopping it, not even picturing Michael Jackson will help. I have one of the most incredible orgasms in memory. When finally the twitching stops, she hugs me tightly, like she's trying to get our bodies to merge. We kiss some more. She pulls off of me and takes off the cover. It disappears, and she returns with a warm, damp towel. After cleaning us both off, she lays down next to me. I do the first thing that occurs to me: I go down.
Up until now, it's been all about me. But I can't let such an amazing orgasm go by without trying to return the favor. Now, I do not deceive myself about whether a sex worker truly gets pleasure from the experience. Some don't, some do. And you may never know the difference, if they do their job well. That said, I'm no slacker in the oral department myself. I used to be clueless, but a bi girlfriend set me straight (as it were) by teaching me not just what she liked, but what she had found to be the most effective with women she had bedded. And at this moment, I'm grateful as all hell. So I give her my very best effort. I listen closely for changes in her breathing as I probe different areas with my tongue. I take note of vocalizations and movement in her body. And as it happens, I figure I've done something right when she cries out and grabs the back of my head, smashing my face into her whole labial area. I can barely breathe, but I'm not about to stop. After a bit, her grip on my head loosens, and I pull away and we snuggle some more.
Usually, giving head make me really hard, too. But that was a really amazing orgasm earlier. Remember when I said she was known for getting guys to go more than once? Well, she was determined to do that with me. She started with the rimming again, and sure-enough I got rock-hard a second time. She starts sucking again, only less frenetic this time. More gentle, loving, almost. But getting a second hard-on and actually having a second orgasm are two different things. I try to explain this, but she isn't listening. She isn't trying to force things, either. I get the feeling that if we finish the hour like this, with her nursing my cock but shy of orgasm, that will be fine with her. But she clearly isn't going to stop until either I come or time runs out. So I lay back and let my whole bady relax and bask in the feelings. With one hand, I can reach her ass, so I gently rub and caress as she keeps at it. I lightly stroke my fingertips over her labia, which gets her to moan around the cock in her mouth. I do it again, because the moaning felt good.
I try a few times to explain that I'm older and out of shape, and that I just probably won't go a second time. She ignores me. She knows better, you see, because after nearly 10 minutes of her tender, gentle attention, I feel an unexpected tingling start at the base. No one is more surprised than I am! I try to warn her (never come in someone's mouth without prior consent, or at least fair warning), but she only sucks harder and deeper. And next thing I know, I'm shooting a second time. I know it isn't as intense as the first, but you couldn't tell just by the feelings my nerve-endings are sending to my brain. At this point, I am well and truly spent. She runs to the bathroom to spit, and I just lay there, glowing and grinning like a fool. A satisfied fool, I must add.
After we clean up and dress, she leads me to the door and gives me one last gentle kiss. I promise myself I'll be back. This person is a flower in a large field of weeds. Thank goodness I didn't let the complaints about face or age deter me. Her service was advertised as GFE-- a "girlfriend experience". Well, I've had quite a few girlfriends with whom I never had that much fun in a single hour.
I'm still glowing when I wake the next morning.
Dausa
After the initial dive into commercial sex, I eventually got used to it. Oh, I still feel a twinge every time, even this last time the day before my birthday. But I also allow myself to thoroughly enjoy it, and get the most out of it. How else can I justify the expense? Like I said previously, I like to have certain options available to me in an encounter (kissing, going down), so I'm often cautious about trying new faces, and generally rely on a series of good reviews before I'll take the chance. And I'm not too hung up on conventional beauty or body-types-- if a person has a good reputation as a companion, I'm going to give it a try even if they aren't fashion-model pretty or fashion-model thin. Candy (the one I had my last go-round with) was very highly regarded, though most reviewers commented negatively on her face, and her age. But I decided to give it a shot.
Candy works through one of those "apartment massage" agencies. I'd seen other girls of theirs before, so I didn't have to go through the full phone-screening. Unlike most of the girls, Candy was way off the beaten path. I ended up running a little late for having had trouble finding the place. Once I got there, I was pleasantly surprised: Candy was actually pretty cute. No movie star by any measure, but from the reviews I had been expecting to need to keep my eyes squeezed shut. Her build was fairly slight, and her hair was a little on the stringy side, but I was sure I would have no problems getting it up for her. I hopped into the shower, both because I could use it and to make sure she knew I was cleaning myself up for her, and scrubbed away. When I was done, she was waiting outside the tub to towel me down . Then we moved to the bed.
(This is where it starts to get salacious. If you've been waiting for this, your wait is over. If you don't want to read textual porn, now's a good time to go Google something.)
I laid down on my stomache. Because these fronts operate under the illusion of "massage parlors", you generally have to wait through 10-15 minutes of half-hearted massage, at least until the woman knows and trusts you. This is usually a lot of poking and pinching, but Candy had a very light, gentle touch. I really enjoy light caresses as foreplay. After 5-10 minutes, she had me roll over on my back. I'm naked, and I'm turned on. And on me, the one means you cannot ignore the other. But she did, for the next 5 minutes or so. More caresses, never actually touching that central core. 15 or so minutes have passed, and I feel like I could drive a six-inch spike though a board with my penis. She looks up at me with a slight smile and that look in her eyes. I think, "At last! Let the sucking of the cock commence!"
Nope.
She proceeds to rim me. I've been rimmed before, it rocks. In fact, in the shower earlier I took care to wash all over, just in case this were an option. And oh thank god I did, because this woman isn't just licking tentatively-- she's going over my ass with the energy and enthusiasm I put into eating a woman out. I swear to god I'm going to explode, and she's barely touched my cock with her hands. She doesn't just do this for a few minutes, either. She sits up momentarily and hikes my legs up to my chest, as if I were the woman and she were about to slide in to the hilt. If she'd had a strap-on, she could have, too. I was so wet from her tongue I doubt there would have been much resistance. But that wasn't her goal-- she just wanted even better access to my ass. At this point, I'm reduced to a quivering, jelly-like mass. Except for one part that has taken on the nature of solid steel wrapped in a layer of velvet. I have no sense of time. All I am able to do is revel in the feelings and work to keep from coming.
She stops. She pulls my legs back down to the bed. I look down just in time to see most of my cock disappear into her mouth. Understand two things-- (1) I'm above-average in girth as well as length, and (2) she's not a very big girl to begin with. But she gets almost all of it down. And if I thought she could rim, I wasn't at all prepared for this. Like I said in the previous entry, she's probably forgotten more than most working girls will ever know, when it comes to giving head. And I have an oral fixation, so now I'm pretty much picturing Joe Pesci in Goodfellas in order to keep from exploding. This woman has a rep for getting guys to pop several times, but I don't have that much faith in myself, and I want this to last. So when she pulls off and reaches for the condom, I'm actually relieved. I rarely orgasm in a condom, I usually have to remove it and finish by hand or orally. This will help me regain my cool, and last longer, I think. Hah!
She lays back, and I enter her missionary-style. I should point out that we've been kissing a lot the whole time, from when I arrived. So there she is, looking up at me, kissing me, and gripping me like a prom date. I am so completely over. When the coming starts, I am just a slave to it. There's no stopping it, not even picturing Michael Jackson will help. I have one of the most incredible orgasms in memory. When finally the twitching stops, she hugs me tightly, like she's trying to get our bodies to merge. We kiss some more. She pulls off of me and takes off the cover. It disappears, and she returns with a warm, damp towel. After cleaning us both off, she lays down next to me. I do the first thing that occurs to me: I go down.
Up until now, it's been all about me. But I can't let such an amazing orgasm go by without trying to return the favor. Now, I do not deceive myself about whether a sex worker truly gets pleasure from the experience. Some don't, some do. And you may never know the difference, if they do their job well. That said, I'm no slacker in the oral department myself. I used to be clueless, but a bi girlfriend set me straight (as it were) by teaching me not just what she liked, but what she had found to be the most effective with women she had bedded. And at this moment, I'm grateful as all hell. So I give her my very best effort. I listen closely for changes in her breathing as I probe different areas with my tongue. I take note of vocalizations and movement in her body. And as it happens, I figure I've done something right when she cries out and grabs the back of my head, smashing my face into her whole labial area. I can barely breathe, but I'm not about to stop. After a bit, her grip on my head loosens, and I pull away and we snuggle some more.
Usually, giving head make me really hard, too. But that was a really amazing orgasm earlier. Remember when I said she was known for getting guys to go more than once? Well, she was determined to do that with me. She started with the rimming again, and sure-enough I got rock-hard a second time. She starts sucking again, only less frenetic this time. More gentle, loving, almost. But getting a second hard-on and actually having a second orgasm are two different things. I try to explain this, but she isn't listening. She isn't trying to force things, either. I get the feeling that if we finish the hour like this, with her nursing my cock but shy of orgasm, that will be fine with her. But she clearly isn't going to stop until either I come or time runs out. So I lay back and let my whole bady relax and bask in the feelings. With one hand, I can reach her ass, so I gently rub and caress as she keeps at it. I lightly stroke my fingertips over her labia, which gets her to moan around the cock in her mouth. I do it again, because the moaning felt good.
I try a few times to explain that I'm older and out of shape, and that I just probably won't go a second time. She ignores me. She knows better, you see, because after nearly 10 minutes of her tender, gentle attention, I feel an unexpected tingling start at the base. No one is more surprised than I am! I try to warn her (never come in someone's mouth without prior consent, or at least fair warning), but she only sucks harder and deeper. And next thing I know, I'm shooting a second time. I know it isn't as intense as the first, but you couldn't tell just by the feelings my nerve-endings are sending to my brain. At this point, I am well and truly spent. She runs to the bathroom to spit, and I just lay there, glowing and grinning like a fool. A satisfied fool, I must add.
After we clean up and dress, she leads me to the door and gives me one last gentle kiss. I promise myself I'll be back. This person is a flower in a large field of weeds. Thank goodness I didn't let the complaints about face or age deter me. Her service was advertised as GFE-- a "girlfriend experience". Well, I've had quite a few girlfriends with whom I never had that much fun in a single hour.
I'm still glowing when I wake the next morning.
Dausa
Labels: commercial sex, fleshbot
posted by Dausa at
3:04 PM
3 Comments:
I had a great date last night, woke up, made coffee and read your post. Almost reminded me of me. What's the going rate? I love the way you write, you're interesting and your pieces have an easy flow. Thanks
By
spankmewithaspoon, at Tuesday, March 15, 2005 9:46:00 PM
This particular experience ran me $140. This is actually a very ironic thing, as I think you'll agree:
The going rate for apartment-massage is generally $160 and up. Really attractive women can get away with $200. Now, recall that I mentioned her age and less-than-model face. Because of this, she ends up charging less because, I presume, she's less of a draw than the 20-year-old hotties on offer from the same stable. And yet, the time I spent with her was light-years beyond 95% of the commercial sex I've had. I have seriously spent more than twice that amount, and gotten less than half that service, with other women.
I do believe in getting the most for my money...
By
Dausa, at Tuesday, March 15, 2005 10:38:00 PM
Nicely written. Gotta love the women who are into rimming.
By
Anonymous, at Saturday, December 30, 2006 4:10:00 PM
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