Cunning Conversations - Seducing a BoyFriend?

Continuing the occasional series of “Cunning Conversations”...

‘B’ was a lady I clicked with straight off.  When I asked about DATY, she said that she probably wouldn’t come, but in 5 minutes Thomas The Tongue Engine had proved her wrong.

In our post-coital cuddle and chat, she was telling me about her other job as a Funeral Parlour Receptionist (does this lady have a thing about working with “stiffs”?).  Then she got onto telling me about her new boyfriend.  They had been going steady for 4-6 weeks and everything was looking wonderful, except . . . he hadn’t made any move yet to try and have sex.  She doesn’t want him to know about her 2nd job, so she asked my advice, “How can I get my boyfriend to have sex with me?”

What am I, “Dear Thomasy Dick”?  Here is this lovely lady-of-pleasure that has just come under my tongue and screwed my brains out, asking my advice about the gentle art of seduction!  

So we talked about suggestive kissing, of ‘accidental’ touching, and asking “When are you going to ‘introduce’ me?”

Booty Buddies?

I first started seeing M at a parlour more than 2 years ago.  We had immediately ‘clicked’ with similar senses of humour and interests, despite an 18 year age difference.  M provided a very passionate service, aiming to make her clients feel as if they were “making love with her” (her words).  In time, she asked if I would be interested in seeing her privately as she hated the time limitations in the parlour.  We exchanged mobile phone numbers and in time some friendly phone banter developed and we started using real names instead of our “working/punting” names (M became T and I became G).

There are several equivalent terms for this sort of arrangement, 'Booty Buddy' 'Fuck Buddy' and 'Friends With Benefits'.

Then early last year, M/T had a small medical accident (no, not that sort - dental in fact) and took time off work.  Her dental situation was addressed and after a couple of false starts I finally got to make that private visit.

I took an afternoon ‘sickie’, had bought a bottle of Cab-Merlot the night before, then a bunch of red roses on the way out.  It’s an hour’s drive from work to her seaside cottage, so I stopped half way for a mouth-wash and dose of Viagra (full tablet - bad move - with wine, ended up with a whopper of a head-ache that evening).  

I received a very warm welcome, big hugs and passionate kisses. Had a quick show-around her lovely cottage.  In the kitchen, we arranged the roses into a vase, then opened the wine.  We settled in the lounge with our wine and cuddled up for a lovely catch-up chat.  M/T has decided to give up the parlour and still has difficulty shaking off her old “M” personna. It’s been over 3 months and T (no longer M) is as horny as anything.

Two glasses down, we decide to retire to the bed-room. I open my "punting kit" on the bed-side table - massage oil, lube and rubbers. We cuddle some more, and help each other undress.  T is down to bra and knickers.  She finds a hanger for my cloths, concerned I might get dog hair on them from the floor (thank goodness the dogs have been put outside).  I replace my knickers with the "pyjama G" I have packed and T turns me around admiringly.

We slip into her big old bed with big fluffy pillows and eider-down and enfold each other in each-others arms with more deep passionate kisses. I tell her how honoured I am to be  asked to come into her private home and to share her private bed.  This simply elicits another big kiss and cuddle. There is lots of caressing and I kiss her neck, nibbling her ears and kiss down to her breasts, gently easing aside her bra.  With one arm around her I mange the one-handed unclipping for which she congratulates me.  I now have full access to her glorious 38DDs and my kissing quickly has her pert nipples rosy pink, hard and erect.

Our hands are all over each-other now, breasts, backs, thighs, legs, privates.  She spreads her legs for me as I ease her nickers off.  She is very wet under my exploring fingers. I kiss my way down to her clit.  I've worked my way down the bed now till I have full access to her love petals.  As I lick and nibble her love lips swell and are opening, and my face is getting wet from her juices. Within 5 minutes she is arching her back and stiffening as a series of orgasms sweep through her body.

I pull away since she is very sensitive now.  Her hands slide into the band of my G-string and I assist her to slide them off. With T's immediate appetite sated for the moment, I kissed my way up her body.  Just as I reached her mouth to kiss her once more, OMG, we just slipped together - no conscious effort, no fumbling, not planned (at this time) nor expected.  I froze - WTF - no condom.  What do I do? What do I say? Do I apologize?  I wasn't ready for fucking just yet.  But, God it felt good.

As I eased out, I asked if T would like a massage.  I reached for the massage oil on the bedside table and proceeded to give T my best, most sensual, all-over, front and back, massage.

Finally, with T totally relaxed and me a little worn, we lay down, side-by-side, cuddling and totally relaxed.  

After 5 minutes or so, T pulled my to her and whispered, "Come here" and pulled me over onto her.  As we kissed, she spread her legs and as I slid between them, we just slipped into full coupling again.  This was no accident any more.

God, T was so hot and wet and horny.  It must have been 4 months since she had had any man.  I knew that she had had her last monthly STI test back then, and I had had a clear test around the same time.  I had been "snipped" some 30 years ago so I knew "au naturalle" was quite safe for us at this time.  T had always followed the "safe sex" protocol at "work", so goodness knows how long it had been for her since she had gone bare-back - it had probably been 5-10 years for me.  God it felt good.

This was no longer a "client service", nor sex for fun, nor just because it feels great. This was a deep down primordial "need" to be loved, to be wanted, to be needed, to be joined in flesh and spirit.  Despite the passion of our ensuing fucking, I paced myself as much as I could.  When covered, I don't come easily these days, but now the sensation was awesome. I could feel ever ridge in her pussy and the slightest squeeze, twist and turn. And I knew that T could feel every twitch of my cock. It was hardening even more and swelling now, so I asked T, "How would you like me to come?" (Now T has quite a taste for cum and I have enjoyed numerous, explosive blow-jobs from her and she swallows every single drop). 

But today was different - she had a special need. "I want to feel your cum pumping deep up inside me" she replied. "Only on one condition" I responded, "That I can lick you out". No words were needed to answer me, as she wrapped her legs around my waist and pulled me as deep as possible into her, lifting her hips to thrust against me, twisting and writhing against my pelvis. Her arms wrapped around my neck and pulled me into wild passionate kissing. We fucked with wild abandon till my body stiffened and my hips involuntarily thrust my cock as deep as possible into her hot, hot cunt, pumping, pumping, pumping my creamy cum, deep, deep, deep up inside her.

As I slowly subsided from my orgasm, T squeezed my still semi-hard cock (thank you Viagra), holding it tightly inside herself as her own spasms continued. Finally we collapsed. I had a smile on my face as broad as a Cheshire cat's, and kissed T again, gently. I kissed my way down T's body to her sopping wet, red hot cunt. My cum juices were just starting to trickle out. Now I don't normally have a taste for (male) cum, but the mixture of my cum and her pussy juices had a heady aroma and our well stirred cream-pie tasted yummy.

T then called me to "Come up here" and I offered her my cock for her to lick and suck our combined cum and pussy juices off it till it was completed licked clean.

We collapsed onto the bed, entwined in each other arms. Our bodies glowed with the post coital sheen of perspiration. I think we must have dropped off to sleep together for 5 minutes or more.

When we finally woke and got up to shower, T exclaimed, "Look!  You've christened my sheets" - I felt honoured!

Although we had never discussed money, her original invitation implied a "client" visit, but wow, this morning was a real "booty call". Even so, I knew her financial situation was strained since finishing work, so I left a discreet "gift" on her bedside table.

We unwound in the lounge, sipping chai lattes, listening to "Love Songs of the Sixties" and chatting some more.  She mentioned that she had met someone and had started dating semi-seriously.  I was the only (other) man she was “seeing” since leaving “the industry”.  I reassured her that at any time, if she felt our “relationship” was inappropriate, she just had to say and I would back-away.  In many ways, we had something more than a “service provider/client” relationship. Over the last couple of years we had shared many things about our private situations.  In T’s words, we were “survivors” and were “there for each other”.  Over the coming visits and months, we never did have “that conversation”, though I did continue bringing presents.

And so reluctantly, I slipped my suit coat on, and after a long lingering kiss at the door, headed off to home in the fading twilight.

Sex and Aging

I guess its easy to write-off our wife’s loss of libido to aging and menopause, but there is also an impact of aging on our (men’s) sex life too (if not quite as severe as total loss of libido) that needs to be discussed more.  I am writing this from experience, being in the middle of it, so YMMV.

I come from a history of “hair-trigger” and learnt early on to prolong and enjoy foreplay before “the event”.  And so it was on my first punt some 25 years ago.  It was an overnight business trip away, I was sick of porn and needed the “real thing”.  Now this was before showers in bedrooms so I was washed by the lady from a bowl of warm water (does that give my age away?  It was all of $20 (which I claimed as a business meal allowance)).  Into bed, a little foreplay, then into “it” and, “bam”, it was over in 30 seconds.  So my feeling about my first experience of punting, was “Is that all there is?  What a waste of time and money”.

Fast forward to my middle fifties.  Home “life” had got so bad I was getting quite depressed and so tried punting again.  Fortunately, the first lady I saw was extremely helpful, took command, calmed my nerves, the main event lasted longer than 30 seconds and a most enjoyable time was had all round.  But over the following 3-4 years, I noticed significant changes.

Now of course, condoms reduce sensitivity which help subdue the “hair trigger”, but I then found myself losing my erection mid-stream.  Fortunately, I have a very understanding GP doctor who prescribed Viagra. Wow!  (The pros and cons of Viagra deserve a separate posting).  Not only was I enjoying “the ride” much more, but in combination with my new skills in DATY, my ladies seemed to find more enjoyment in riding a thick, rock-hard cock.  From 30 seconds, I could now last 20-30 MINUTES!  The journey was now more important (and pleasant?) than the “destination”.

But my prolonged fucking sessions masked something else that crept up on me.  I suddenly realised that more and more, I wouldn’t cum at all.  To some degree, it was in fact due to prolonged sessions that in fact decreased my sensitivity.  I discussed this with my understanding doctor, who advised that it was simply due to declining testosterone levels with age, and to just enjoy the ride.

I also noticed something else changing.  When I started punting again, I promised myself a FOTM (after abysmal annual or biennial attempts at home).  Needless to say, I soon found I had an “ache” after a fortnight, and by three weeks, I just had to go and “get my rocks off”. (Yes my young readers, I do remember my youth when the “urge” hit a couple times a day, but I never got the chance back then to “scratch that itch”).  But in the last year or so, I have found that that physical urgency just doesn’t come much any more.  There is a psychological “need” for the warmth and intimacy, but the physical “need” has declined markedly.

In the early stages, I think there was a sense of anger over my past situation, and I set out to visit as many parlours and ladies as I could financially and physically manage.  But I seem to have worked that out of my system and have found a parlour where I have a half a dozen or so lovely ladies that tick all my boxes, and I find much more pleasure in seeing my regulars.

With respect to not cumming very often, I have settled into several different patterns.

1. There are times when I really do need to cum, so I avoid masturbation for at least a week, then in our session, enjoy all the delights and varieties of foreplay, then in the main course, not try and prolong it but with my lady’s assistance with various squeezing and pressure techniques, achieve a happy ending.  I am very lucky in having a couple of favourite ladies who at times, to bring our session across the line, have removed the offending desensitizer for a natural or OWO (BBBJ) finish.
2. Then there are other times when “cumming” just isn’t important to me and my lady and I just enjoy the whole gammut of sexual pleasures including a wide variety of positions of the old fashioned....
3. Finally, with some ladies, the specialty is all oral, and one particular favourite has acquired a taste and provides that most explosive CIM finish ever.

As for the future, that remains to be seen.  I read of men having a fulfilling sex life into their 80’s - if I could be that lucky.

My next age related hurdle will be retirement and the loss of that regular income that has made my punting hobby possible.  Perhaps I will have to become acquainted with a circle of divorcees and widows that need some “comfort”!

Cunning Conversations - Longmatrimony?

Now one doesn’t normally go punting for the conversation, but finding a lady with whom you ‘click’ and who has a similar sense of humour makes the time so much more enjoyable.  Its not that there is much time for conversation, but whilst dressing, showering or just cuddling up for the remaining minutes before the buzzer, I have had many very interesting "Cunning Conversations", which will appear at irregular intervals in the “Cunning Linctus”.

Several years ago in the early stages of my punting career, I had a lovely time with an athletic young lady exploring quite a number of positions.   "I have a chart of all the Karma Sutra positions on my bedroom wall at home" she replies, "but I haven't learnt them all yet". (Somehow or other, I never did get to see her again to work through that list).

During our cooling off time, we got talking about “life” and I mentioned how long I had been married.  Then in all seriousness, she asked me, “What’s the secret to a long marriage?”.

WTF?  Here is a young (mid 20’s?) prostitute who has just fucked the brains out of a man twice here age who is “cheating” on his wife, and she is asking for advice on the secret of a long marriage? 

I guess the short answer is, “Don’t get caught!”