The Knighting of Sir Thomas

In 4 THOUGHTS or FICTION this month, May has asked about the origins of our nom de plume (pen name).

Simple Beginnings

My story is rather simple. Before I started blogging, when I first started going to brothels, I used my middle name, Thomas, for my bookings. After about 12 months of finding my sexual freedom, I took the plunge and went down on a lady for the first time in my life (I feel embarrassed to confess to it being my first time in my late 50's). Needless to say, I was hooked, and imbibed at every opportunity, learning and growing in confidence.

An Inspiration

The first time I booked Daniella, an amazing French Moroccan lady, we clicked and enjoyed each other's company over some 8 years (Maid in Morocco, That Smile, A Bad Habit). After a hot steamy session in the early years, after a loud, body shuddering orgasm, once she had regained her breath, she said "Sir, you are a veritable Tongue Engine". I had just recently started journalling my exploits and Daniella immediately inspired me to start a blog under the nom de plume "Sir Thomas, The Tongue Engine".

Logos - Putting an Image to The Name

My initial logo was the face of a certain blue engine with a Mick Jagger like tongue. I never particularly like it, being a bit childish.

When I decided to launch my alternative blog of non-sexual material and considering my years, I went with a Latin title, "Argentum Vulpes" (Silver Fox). In searching for a blog visual theme, I settled on an Art Deco look. It also seemed an opportune time to upgrade my logo to something more befitting a be-knighted silver fox.

The Crown Jewels

 

Now I'm not quite sure whether this qualifies as minimalist "lingerie"? But my LOP Buddy loved my jewellery.

She got a real buzz out of masturbating her clit against the 'rabbit ears', the rough knob and the 'bullet' vibrator, all held hard against her by my PIV.

Click to see who else has been wicked this Wednesday!

Unlocked at Last

With the Covid-19 pandemic Lock-Down, one of the hardest hit industries has been sex work. Here in Melbourne, Australia, we have been badly effected by a 2nd wave, that now thankfully as been crushed - today we have gone 21 days straight with ZERO new cases and ZERO deaths.

With the general easing of Lock-Down restrictions, at long last at mid-night next Sunday, 22nd Nov. 2020, our brothels can reopen after 8 months of blue balls - Woo! Hoo! party time (though there are still some covid-safe precautions required - limited numbers, covid-tracing registration).

(Original image by 'dreamstime.com')

Just sitting here writing this post, I'm excited, planning next week's catchup with some 'buddies'.

Red is my favourite colour, so I thought red accessories would be appropriate, for the celebration. I really do want to look my best for her/them.

For anyone who enjoys the feel and look of nice under-wear, click the following badge to see what other aficionados are wearing.

 

 

Thank God It's You

This post is a rework of "That Smile" from 2013, to Tell You About ... Desire!

When it comes to 'desire', I have a genetic predisposition - I am a male of a certain age (17-70). The degree of desire does vary with relationship status and age. By my late 50's, being in a sexless marriage and relying on sex workers for my sexual pleasure, I found that I could last 3 weeks before the urges started to build up, but by the 4th week, I had 'blue balls' and the urge became an ache.

Now the average sex worker is in it for the money, not her own sexual desire. But occasionally one meets a gem who enjoys the sex as much as or sometimes more than the money. I immediately put her on my 'regulars' speed dial. Daniella is one such regular.

On the day in question, my ache is bad. My favourite brothel is near my home rail station, so I arrive just after 6pm. I had been seeing Daniella, my Moroccan Maid, regularly for a while. I was her last client for the day. When she saw me come in, she ran down the corridor, threw her arms around me, plants a passionate kiss, and says, "Thank God it's you. I've had a shitty day and I need some 'me' time".

With the preliminaries finished quickly, we welcome each other passionately. I quickly go down on her so the Tongue Engine can start to deliver some 'me' time. Her cunni linctus tastes as sweet as honey and my honey Daniella is really 'buzzing'. Finally, in desperation (?) she jumps me and rides me like a woman possessed, possessed with a need, the desire to be fucked, hard, to be filled, to come and come hard on me.  She twists and grinds on me, working her clit hard against my pubes, until she comes, with that deep down vaginal orgasm, that starts by clenching 'little Tom' tightly, then with spasms that spread to her thighs and legs, squeezing around me, then up her body, tensing, throwing her head back.  With such glorious, intense sensations coursing through my body too, I can't help but come with her.

Then she collapses across my chest.  Her gorgeous breasts crushed between us, her chest heaving in exhaustion, her whole body glowing with the sheen of perspiration. And she looks into my eyes with the most contented, serene smile I have ever seen. It was almost like the Cheshire Cat that got the cream (well it was my cream actually).

We lie together, she on top of me, for a couple of minutes as we catch our breaths, then she rolls off into the crook of me arm, and says, "I'm fucked.  I needed that.  I could just go to sleep in your arms".

Thanks Daniella.  You certainly know how to make a man feel like he is desired as the greatest lover in the world.

That smile?  Eat your heart out Mona Lisa!

(Click to see who else is desirable/desiring!)

Post Script

Seven year later, I am no longer of that 'certain age'. Post prostate radiotherapy, the urges of desire are now but a warm memory.

Further, with Covid-19 pandemic lock-down, all our bordellos have been closed since March 2020 and probably won't open again till about June 2021. The city of Melbourne might have managed to crush its 2nd wave of Covid, but we are still having to live in a Covid safe society. So sex with masks at approved social distance, just doesn't have any appeal.

Missed Wicked Wednesday Connection

It was the current Wicked Wednesday prompt "#432 Missed Connections" that reminded me of this incident some 9 years ago. This Reminiscence is a rework of a post of that time.

I first met TM at a Melbourne brothel back in 2010. We hit it off immediately and soon had exchanged phone numbers. A couple of months later, she decided to leave that establishment, and asked if I would like to continue seeing her privately and exclusively.

We had planned a Wicked Wednesday lunch and afternoon of debauchery. But a massive storm blew up Tuesday night and the roof of TM's house sprung a leak. The owner and/or agent were to come to inspect the damage on the Wednesday afternoon, so our little Wicked Wednesday Connection was Missed, and our tête-à-tête was postponed to Thursday.  

So we had a Wicked Thursday, skipping lunch, launching straight into a fucking awesome couple of hours. 

 

We were recovering, reclining in the lounge, sipping hot chai lattes, she in nothing but a bath-robe, and me mostly dressed. Suddenly the dogs started barking outside - TM looked out the window and saw a couple of tradesmen coming to the door.  It appears that they had been sent to prepare a quotation for repairs.  TM was thus tied up showing the workmen the problem, so I surreptitiously finished dressing, quietly said my goodbye and excused myself.

It was the next day that I got a text message from TM saying that she couldn't find my "envelope" and that she thought we had a "business relationship". Oops! Red face!!!  I quickly arranged a wire transfer.

 

Our "relationship" only lasted a couple of more months before we had to say 'Goodbye'.

A Buddy to Remember

One of the beauties of aging, is that you have more memories to reminisce over.

The period I am writing about was 9 years ago and there are contemporaneous blog posts that I will refer to. Whilst this reminiscence might seem to be through rose coloured glasses, they are not artificially tinted.

I first met TM in a brothel. We hit it off immediately and over a number of regular visits and frequent pillow talks, got to know a bit about each other. She had married very young, with no career, but eventually the marriage went bad. She turned to sex work as a convenient, easy way to make sufficient money to survive. Now she enjoyed sex and had a good temperament for this work. Her philosophy was to make her clients feel that they were 'making love' with her, what is sometimes called a 'girl friend experience'.

We exchanged telephone numbers to keep in touch about our availability. Well one day, she rang to say that due to a change in circumstances, she was leaving the brothel work, but would I like to continue seeing her privately. She lived in a rental cottage at the sea-side, a good hour out of my normal travel, but I said I would love to continue seeing her.

It took some surreptitious juggling of times between home and work, but we did get to spend some wonderful times together. I was her only 'partner' over this time. It wasn't really a 'client' relationship, although I did assist her financially. It wasn't regular enough in visits or payments to make it a 'sugar daddy' relationship. Perhaps 'Booty Buddy' or 'Friends With Benefits' would better describe what we had. TM summed it up best, describing us as a 'couple of survivors comforting each other'.

Being out of work, the government dole payment required her to undertake some occupational training. She signed up for an Aged Care Attendant certificate, but didn't really find it suited her temperament. She was a good photographer, particularly seascapes, and we talked about how she might turn this into some sort of career option, say in framed photographs in a tourist spot.

A few months in, she mentioned that she had met someone that had asked her on a date. I told her that if it became serious, and our friendship was inappropriate, to tell me and I would step aside. I never saw her for a few months, what with her going overseas for a friend's funeral, then her own family issues.

It was in the December; I had received a large Christmas hamper bonus from work, so I packaged up some of my largess for a hamper for TM.  I slipped out of work early and headed on down to visit. TM was home and pleased to see me, but greeted me with a chaste kiss. I knew immediately that my time had come.

We settled on the front veranda with chai lattes to catch up. The sun was coming down in the west, a warm sea breeze wafted across the fragrant cottage garden, as our conversation covered the mundane (her purchase and restoration of some old furniture), to deeply personal (her struggles with a change in her contraceptive; her boyfriend leaving his wife and asking her to move in with him and the pros and cons of whether she should), to my home-life issues with my wife's health. She inquired whether the 'girls' back at the brothel were looking after me (I hadn't been back since seeing TM at home).

The sun was about to kiss the horizon and it was time for me to go. With a warm cuddle, wishing each other well and a peck on the cheek, I headed off into the twilight.

Nine years on, I still have warm, fond memories of those days. I did see her FB page once (I wouldn't contact her tho) and saw that that relationship back then had not survived. She went back to college in a course that tapped her creative side but in a very practical hospitality role, in which she now works. A new relationship with a biker seems to be going well, and suits the wild streak in her personality.

Bon voyage through the rest of your life buddy. We survived!

ED Recovery? The Test Drive

 #F4TFriday

The time has come.

I've been trying a non-invasive method to treat my Erectile Dysfunction (2 year post prostate cancer radiotherapy treatment) for 3 months. As I wrote a couple of weeks ago, there has been a modicum of success with Viagra and cock-ring producing erections that just might be sufficient for coitus. So its time to try it out.

My lustless wife has had no desire for any form of intimacy for decades, so this is not for her. As for me, the days of aching urgent needs, dwindled over the years from daily, to weekly to monthly and the intensity subsided. But now there is no feeling of 'need' any more, just memories of 'that would be nice to have again'. As I face the possibility of widowhood in the next few years, it would be nice to know that I might have something to offer any future partner. Regrets? Sure, I've had a few!

But for now, all I have are some LOP 'buddies', that are understanding, willing and warm and intimate. My carer duties have become almost full time, so the best I can manage is to extend a shopping trip by an hour.

I finally manage to arrange a time. Miss C welcomes me warmly, despite it being 12 months since our last encounter. She reassures me that my situation is not uncommon. Being a middle aged SW, she has quite a number of older clients with post-prostate treatment conditions, including implanted pumps, rods, cock-rings and caverject injections.

As we snuggle up for a kiss and cuddle, a relaxing warmth enfolds me. How nice is that primal need for the intimate touch of another human body. C wriggles in closer, worming her cleft over my modest erection. She assures me that it is stiff enough and its hotness is as good as ever. I don't feel anything especially arousing, just part of the overall warmth of intimacy. I do however feel C's wetness and her own increasing need as she works her clit over me.

Its time I satisfied her needs. I slide down her body and let the old tongue-engine loose on her lady bits. Well at least my tongue is still in excellent working order and all the old sensations are still good.

After she had come down from her orgasm, she asks if I am ready to enter her. She tells me she needs to feel filled. I warn her that condoms decrease sensitivity even more and I'm not sure I can even penetrate. She suggests we try a super-thin non-latex condom and give it a go.

As I slide in, there is relief that my erection has passed the test. Even though there is no feeling of arousal, it is warm and nice to feel the ultimate of human intimacy. But orgasm for me just isn't on the radar.

Sadly our time all too soon comes to an end. As we chat, shower and dress, I tell C that I came expecting that this might be my last time. But I thank her that she has reassured me that there is some sort of future for limited intimacy.

Thank God for these wonderful Ladies Of Pleasure that give men like me, some warmth and intimacy in the autumn of our life.

PS. My visit to Miss C used my last Viagra script, and its still a month or so to the Dr's appointment. So its been a couple of weeks with no daily Viagra. Sadly, even with cock-ring, there is no hint of erection and zero sensation. So whilst my 'treatment' has enabled an erection sufficient for coitus as needed, there appears to have been no  'healing' for long-term improvement. However, I shall continue my 'treatment' for another 6 months and see.

(Click this banner to read other Thoughts on Hindsight & Regrets)

The Five Senses Of Sex

A few years ago, I had the great pleasure of a number of home visits with a delightful Booty Buddy, TM (a previous Lady Of Pleasure). Now TM had an uncommon taste for ejaculate. Further she was especially turned on by the multi-sensual process.  

For the sake of this post, it might be best if I write in the first person from her perspective, based on how she described it to me.

(TM) "Tom had taken a half day off work for a morning visit. I had a nice lie-in in bed awaiting his knock on the door. When he arrived, he had warm, fresh-baked croissants and fresh squeezed orange juice - yum. We quickly slipped back into my still-warm bed to share breakfast, but that was short-lived as we couldn't keep our hands and mouths off each other.

Now I was pretty horny waiting for him, but I was wet and needy now in no time. I love fucking mature experienced gents like Tom - he really knows how to please a women, his touches, his kisses, his mouth, his tongue. For now, he makes it all about me. I lost count of how many times he had me orgasming, but Tom still hadn't come himself (its an age thing he tells me). It must have been almost an hour before we rolled apart, breathless, hot and perspiring.

We must have cuddled together for all of 5 minutes as we cooled a little and caught our breaths. But like Oliver, I wanted MORE, but not just for me this time, but something special for US, together.

I rolled Tom onto his back, and slid down his body, trailing my fingers down his arms and kisses down his chest. As I reached his cock, I flicked the tip of his glans with my tongue, then engulfed his shaft in my mouth. His still semi-erect cock stirred back to life.

But I wasn't after just a common old blow-job - I have something very special in mind. Now we have discussed this once before and Tom had indicated that a DIY hand-job gave him better control and outcome. I signal to him to take hold. I slide down further so I can lick his scrotum and suck his balls. I look up the length of his body and ours eyes meet. His eyes are smiling, his lips are moist and he licks them lightly. The look of his tongue and lips bring back memories of where they were just half an hour ago. I can feel my cunt getting slick and hot with the memory. My gaze caresses his whole body, his shoulders, chest, those abs, the bulging arm muscles as he pumps his cock. I stretch my arms up to surround his hips and my fingers stroke his stomach and I can feel him lifting to meet his down strokes. My head is against his leg and I can hear his pulse starting to race in his arteries. His breath is fast now - the sound of his gasps has my own breaths and heart beating in sync. My nostrils are on fire now as they take in the sent of our earlier sex. I can smell and taste my own cunni-linctus on his thighs and scrotum.

Tom's hand is really pumping now. I can see his engorged purple glans above his fist. His shaft is thick and red and hard now. He lets out a little grunt and his torso lifts and starts to shake a little. He has stopped pumping now and just holding his glans. The thick purple veins are bulging around his dick the urethra along the underside is bulging now, filling up with his lovely cum. I can see it starting to twitch, then Tom lets go and says "Its your's now"!

I pounce, and clamp my mouth around his glans, clamping my lips tightly so that he has no escape.  I can feel his cum building up in his locked shaft, swelling even more. Tom's body arches and stiffens and a little 'Urgh' slips out in agony, before the ecstasy as I release my grip. Tom erupts like a massive hot geyser blasting his love-juice against the back of my throat. I gulp down the first mouthful. He keeps coming for what seems like ages, but probably only 5-10 seconds. My mouth is full again and his cum is running out the corners down his shaft. As his orgasm subsides, I swirl his load around in my mouth, savouring the taste and texture - not unlike molluscs sauteed in salted butter and cream - just my favourite, although an acquired taste. As I swallow my second mouthful, I lick up and down and round and round his cock, licking up every last drop.

As his deflating cock subsides, I come up his body and we embrace and share a fantastic, salty, Deep French Kiss.

Tom tells me it is the most intense orgasm he has ever had.

Now that's the way to Break Fast!"

There's Many A Slip Twixt.....

I was reading an old post recently, "That Smile" and was reminded of D's welcoming words, "Thank God its you. I've had a shitty day and need some Me time". Now in the commercial sex world, one doesn't expect a "relationship" and a "Girl Friend Experience" is just a marketing ploy. But just occasionally, one comes across a gem who loves the sex even more than (well at least as much as) the money. Then as we see each other more regularly, a sort of a sex-buddy 'relationship' develops. D's words above, reminded me of a more recent warm, nay hot, welcome.

I've been seeing Miss R for over a year now. This day, I had rung and made a booking, but it seems the receptionist doesn't tell the ladies the name of who a booking is with. When I arrived, Miss R was delayed, so I was shown to the bedroom to wait. I showered and was lying on the bed at attention, waiting.

R opened the door, resplendent in black G string and negligee. The moment she saw it was me, she rushed to the bed and immediately jumped my bones. 

Without a word, she had my head in her hands and tongue down my throat. Little Tom was enjoying a lovely 'panty slide'. I slipped my hands inside her negligee top to squeeze her breasts and my thumbs massaged her very prominent brown nipples. I swear, R's nipples must be wired directly to her clit, because there is an immediate reaction inside the sheer material sliding over my cock. Her body jumps into high gear. Our kissing becomes intensely passionate and our pubes are grinding ever harder. Her panties are slick in less than a minute and I am sliding in the groove of a wonderful 'camel-toe'.

God, its amazing how a piece of clothing can be so erotically alluring, how a piece of silk can promise so much, but not just yet. Delayed gratification intensifies the desire.

Our grinding is now round and round, up and down, side to side. I can  feel the hem edging. Little Tom is edging. There's many a slip twixt the cock and the slit! (cf.  George Pettie in Petite Palace, "Many things happens betweene the cup and the lip, many thinges chaunce betweene the bourde and the bed". ref. wikipedia)

We roll apart whilst I remove her negligee and soaking panties. We roll together for a cuddle. I look into her eyes and say "Well, hello to you too!"

To All the Girls I've Loved Before - Thank You

I see from my diary, that its been 10 years since my sexual liberation, so in the words of Hal David, sung variously by Willy Nelson, Julio and Englebert, I want to say 'Thank You' to "All the girls I've loved before".

 

I won't repeat my history that lead to that liberation - it was covered in 'Was the last-time, the LAST Time?'.  Sadly I confess that in that 35 years I had never had or received oral sex, nor had my lady ever orgasmed. 

It was in that time of depression that I 'saw the light', that I had to take responsibility for my own happiness, emotional and physical needs. Not wishing to leave the marriage, I turned to professional help - commercial sex.

I am fortunate to live in a state and country where commercial sex is legal and regulated. So in the past 10 years I have learnt and experienced many aspects of this 'service' industry.

 
There have been 1 or 2 'star-fishes' who obviously didn't want to be there, that provide a receptacle rather than a service. 

 
There have been those that seemed quite inexperienced and nervous. There have been some that really tried to provide a good service, but there has been no 'connection'.  Can there really be a 'connection' between a sex worker and client?

I will digress slightly at this point to thank a Punter Review web forum.  This particular site encourages ladies to join in general conversations and is well moderated.  It was here that I learnt how best to choose a lady from the introductions, that might best suit my needs.  Reviews from other punters also provided recommendations and service descriptions.  So I quickly found myself enjoying the company of a number of special ladies, that I dedicate this post to.

I quickly developed skills in cunnilingus with guidance from some of my ladies. For the first time I experienced ladies that really wanted/needed sex themselves - yes, there are ladies in the sex industry that are not there just for the money, but because of their own high sex-drive needs. For the first time I experienced ladies' orgasms in all their wonderful varieties - O-O-O-OMG. Then to top this off, I found my first squirter. To all these wonderful ladies, "Thank You"!

So despite the danger of overlooking someone, here is my "Honor Roll" in roughly chronological order:-

• First off, thanks to Kelly who popped my punting cherry. Tho in hindsight, not great sex, she was a very gentle, kind lady that guided me for an enjoyable first time commercially. I almost felt like a virgin being introduced to sex for the first time. I needed it.
• Daniella was a dark horse, passed over at our first introduction, but next time I discovered a highly sexed, passionate women whose company I enjoyed over eight years. It was she who taught me the joys of DATY and nick-named me 'Thomas the Tongue Engine'. I have written about our times together three times on this blog - 'Maid in Morocco', 'That Smile' and 'A Bad Habit'.
• Megan introduced me to CIMS, snow-balling and the taste of cum. But more importantly, Megan took me out of the time-constrained commercial environment, to Booty-Buddy visits at home, of 'Breakfast with Benefits', and coping with a Buddy relationship coming to an end.
• Sandy was a hot New Zealand blonde, with whom I discovered the difference between clitoral and vaginal orgasms.
• April was probably the first 'screamer' I encountered, and my head in a scissor lock whilst she convulsed, won't be forgotten. And I sustained the first and only 'punch' in the nose in my whole life (from a convulsing pubic bone). If the end-of-the world was at hand, I couldn't think of a nicer lady to go out with a bang with.
• Cristal HotBabe ('The Wicked Wench of Wupert Street') was a once off PSE that you've got to try once in a life-time. It was wild, almost gymnastic with some positions I've never seen or heard of before or since.
• Kaz is an all round lovely lady - great body, good conversationalist, great kisser and great sex. I discovered that ladies that have mastered kegal muscle control can add an amazing dimension to sex - I quipped that she does 'DFF'. Also 'Munching on Special-K'.
• Grace introduced me to humour and laughter during sex. Wow, cumming and laughing at the same time is an experience. Yes, sex should be fun.
• Amber is one of those sex machines with a voracious appetite, and a very nice lady to boot.
• Ruby is an incredibly passionate lady, a great kisser and very orgasmic. I swear her prominent nipples are wired to her clit. A keen lover of cunnilingus, I was rewarded by her squirting, again and again and again. Awesome.

To these ladies and all my other companions, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!!!!!

DFF - Deep French Fucking

A couple of things came to me recently that lead to this post.  A national paper's 'Lifestyle' blog had an article on the perennial issue of why women don't/can't orgasm with vaginal sex.  Then there is that bland term "penetrative sex" - the sex-blog world talks lots about the peripheral, preliminaries (bondage, spanking, cunnilingus, fellatio, etc), but the "final" sex act is somewhat of an anti-climax, although it is supposed to be THE Climax!

Then I had another encounter with "Special K" - we hadn't seen each other for 10-11 months, but in the past year we have become regular 'buddies'.  Her technique for "penetrative sex" is something to blog about.  Of the hundred or two ladies with whom I have had the pleasure of their 'company' (and these being 'professional' sex workers at that), I would venture that barely a half dozen have mastered this technique.

Sure there are various positions, 'cow girl', reverse cow girl, 'doggy', missionary, etc, that spice up the main event.  But I am talking about something more.  In struggling to work out how to describe this pleasure, the nearest analogy I could come up with is comparing the "simple kiss" with Deep French Kissing (DFK).  Thus I settled on "Deep French Fucking".

I have written before about the "dry root", or "non-sex", AKA "outer sex".  If we extrapolate that technique and imagine your lady "Deep French Kissing" your cock with her vulva, you start to get the 'feel' of it.  The primary drive is stimulation of her clitoris.  From her perspective, the key is the use of her pelvic muscles. The most sensitive parts of our genitals are her clitoris and vulva, and the head/tip of his penis.  K has a particular 'move' whereby she 'nibbles' or 'kisses' the head of my cock with the mouth of her vagina, using her muscle control - awesome.

There is a lot of pelvic action, more so by your lady, using both the front and back sides of your cock as well as your knob, rubbing every ridge, and exploring every wet slippery fold of her clitoris and labia majora & minor with the occasional foray into the inner sanctum.  As well as in/out, there will be back & forth, left/right, and rotating/twisting actions.

In some sense, DFF is driven by the lady, but the gentleman should be able to judge which moves are most pleasurable to you both, and use his cock to caress both the outer folds of her vulva as well as inside with a variety of moves.

Couple the above with a whole-of-body embrace, skin-on-skin stimulation and actual Deep French Kissing, you have optimised the chances for your lady to achieve that big "O" during "vaginal sex".

In comparison, doesn't "penetrative sex" sound so bland.  Surely this is why our boys seem to think that sex is only all about in-and-out "pumping" till he has his climax.

I am reminded of the story about the young prince getting married. He asked his father, the King for advice. "Its quite simple" said The King.  On your wedding night, your wife will say, 'I offer my honour', to which you will reply, 'I honour your offer'. Then its just a matter of honour and offer, honour and offer...".

Poor prince, so much to learn.  I'm just sorry that I am just discovering these things in my silver-haired years. Better late than never though. I just hope I can contribute my little bit to sex education to a younger generation.

The Goodbye Kiss

If there is one thing I have learned from my punting time, it is that open, sexual relationships, whether 'commercial', buddies, casual, poly-amorous or anything else, must be unselfish.  To be open enough to enter into a close intimate ‘relationship/friendship’ of this sort, we must be equally open enough to let each other move on when the time comes.

I have written about my relationship with T before in "Booty Buddies?".

During some of our pillow talks, she mentioned that she had started dating someone and I said that she just had to ‘say the word’ and I would step aside.

Well a couple of months passed where for various reasons we did not see each other. Then I dropped in to her home just before Christmas with a hamper of goodies.  She welcomed me with a chaste kiss, and I knew instantly that my time had come.  We spent the rest of the afternoon sipping chai lates, sitting in recliners on her front porch overlooking her cottage garden and the sun slowly sinking over the bay.  We talked very opening about our relationship (she always said that we were a pair of survivors), the good times we had had.  We talked about her recent loss of her mother, her health issues, looking for a new career, the side effects of contraceptive implants, my own home life issues, and their future plans together.

As the sun touched the horizon, I collected my few belongings stashed in her bedroom. She expressed the hope that the ‘girls’ back at the parlour would ‘look after me’.  We hugged farewell at my car and with a final peck on the cheek I drove home in the sunset.

Bon Voyage through the rest of your life T with your new man.

Lucky Tom Dedicates His Song

"To all the girls I've loved beforeWho travelled in and out my doorI'm glad they came alongI dedicate this songTo all the girls I've loved before."

My local bordello has a weekly Lucky Door Prize raffle draw and this week my number came up - first prize a free session with the lady of my choice.  It was only the previous Monday that I had seen my current regular, G, and here it was just 7 days later, I was having an awesome time with G again.  I got thinking about my "luck" and the great times I have with G, then of all the other great times with all my other great ladies, that made me think of the above song - thanks Willie Nelson for expressing so beautifully, my gratitude.

Sadly, it wasn't always so.  It wasn't until my late 50's that I came to my senses. I was getting quite depressed, but it was a lady at work that opened my mind. She was a single mother, coping with a teenage son, she had managed the construction of her own house - a real "go getter".  I learned from her that one has to take responsibility for your own happiness.  Sure, there were reasons for my wife's zero libido - abusive father, injury, illness, medication, etc.  But whether I let life's misfortune make me unhappy, or whether I made my own happiness, was my choice. As the old saying goes, "When life dishes up lemons, make lemonade".

And so it was that I took the plunge with the oldest professional help. There was a lot of misapprehension and soul searching, having all the misinformed view of prostitution promulgated by the do-gooder press. I was so lucky with my first Lady Of Pleasure - I could not have met a nicer lady that put all my misconceptions to rest.

And the rest is history, so to say. I have had good times, great times and some awesome times - "so this is what marriage was supposed to have been like?".  My ladies have taught me a lot.  The greatest driver of great sex is what goes on between the ears. Its about R.E.S.P.E.C.T.  Its about compatible senses of humour. Its about unselfishness, of wanting to please/pleasure each other. With ongoing times together comes communication and trust.

So here is to:- 

• G (Amazing Grace with the luscious labia to dream of), 
• D ("The Body" builder with an occasional bad habit and my first GILF),  
• V ("11"), C (the Maltese terrier), 
• A (too much of a nympho for my own good),   
• T/M (booty buddy),  
• C1 (the Wicked Wench - wild, but once was enough) and 
• K (Special Krazy).  

And to all the others - thank you.

-----

OMG  The news of the Boston bombing just flashed across my screen!  When will the world ever learn to "make love, not war"!

Breakfast With Benefits

I have previously written about how I came to be seeing T privately in "Client or Buddy?".  On this occasion, I had arranged a morning/breakfast visit. I left home at 7:10am as if going to work, then diverted down the Peninsula Freeway, arriving around 8:30am, having stopped along the way for orange juice  and croissants, and to message my boss to say I had a 'family situation' and wouldn't be in until lunch time.

I am welcomed by T in her black nightie with a very big hug and kisses.  In the kitchen,  we arrange my flowers in a vase, then I send T back to bed whilst I pour orange juice and warm up our croissants.  T is sitting up in bed with a big smile, still in her nightie, when I come in with breakfast.  Now there is something very special about slipping into the bed where your lady has just spent the night and to slide under the covers (compared to the barren bed of parlours).

We manage to drink half our juice and eat most of our croissants between kisses and  cuddles.  We have a brief discussion about going "au naturalle" last time - T is very  apologetic, to which I tell her not to apologise, since it was obvious we both wanted it, nay ‘needed’ it and enjoyed it.  But we agree that it might be best if we do try to contain ourselves to 'safe sex'.

T is quite playful this morning as we slide down for some serious kissing and cuddling.  I help her pull her nightie up over her head.  We are all body and hands and kissing now.  My hand is rubbing her knicker covered crotch and I ask "Where are the  crotchless knickers you told me about?".  She responds with giggle. As I help slide her knickers off, she says, "Wait a minute, I've got a present from the girls (when she left the parlour)".  She jumps out of bed with a giggle, gets something out of her dresser  drawer and runs starkers into the lounge room. "No peeking" she calls.  I hear more  giggling and comments like "What goes into this hole?" and "How do I get this on?".

Eventually she sidles back into the bedroom wearing a black, crotchless, fish-net body  stocking, swaying her hips and giving me a little show. Her magnificent 38DDs strain  under the plunging neck-line and her hot red nipples poke through the netting like  traffic lights.

Then its back into bed and into a clinch.  There is much rolling around, cuddles, and hands all over each other and kissing up and down. Finally, under Thomas-the-Tongue's ministrations, with a huge arch of her back and an "AAAGHHH",  T comes to a shuddering climax.

I come up her body and pull the stocking off her breasts for some more licking, sucking  and kissing.  I find the stocking a bit rough on our skin, so I help her slide it off and  we enjoy the warm smoothness of our nakedness as she kicks it off her feet.

Remembering our earlier discussion, I roll on a rubber, I lie over her to embrace, kissing and cuddling and we again slide together, with no awkward fumbling.  We just "click" intellectually, emotionally and physically. T is still quite  horny and I am hard, and our coupling becomes passionately vigourous. We roll around for what seems like for ever - time stands still - but I suppose it must have been 30 minutes or more.  We are hot, sweaty and breathless, but I know my sensitivity is declining.  

We roll onto our sides and reluctantly de-couple.  T strips me bare and works her oral magic. But still, she can't bring me off, but she has the taste for more!  So she tries some handy-work, but that makes it worse for me.  I gently ask her to stop, show her that for me, a hand-job must be dry.  I show her my DIYHJ - she sits astride, watching and admiring.  She tells me how horny it makes her watching the straining muscles of a guy's arm and the thickening, reddening member.  She leans forward and licks the pre-cum.  T is watching intently.  She sees me tighten, now red hot and hard I feel like I am ready to burst.  "Its all yours!" I  say.  T pounces, sucking hard as I explode, savouring ever drop, swallowing twice.  I continue spasming for what seems like ages.  This is awesome.  T certainly knows how to please her man.   Wow!.

We lie back and cuddle and chat for a bit, then drift off in petit mort for perhaps 5-10 minutes. Then its reluctantly off to the shower and dress.  We settle in the lounge for a cup of chai tea and chat about T's upcoming trip. I leave my 'gift' on the table and head off to work about 11:30 - wow, what a fabulous 3 hours! What a way to start to day.  What better way to break fast!

 

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.