Lust Lost and Found

This post is a rework of "Lustless" posted in Feb. 2019.

Can Something You Never Had be LOST?

With my girlfriend at the time, lust wasn't exactly 'lost', rather it never developed. I guess you couldn’t have found two more neophytes as far as sex was concerned, when we started dating. First serious relationship for both of us. No sexual experience. I was from an up-tight religious background, and my girlfriend was from a broken home, living with a protective mother. Add to this her serious medical condition. Our courtship involved a lot of joint volunteering, caring and charity type activities. We were young, optimistic and idealistic. As far fetched as it sounds, we really were 25 year old virgins in the ‘age of Aquarius’ when we married.

Due to poor time planning and travel, the wedding night was sexless (not that unusual apparently). We only had a long-weekend due to study commitments, but a full honeymoon was planned in the semester break. But our sexual initiation this first weekend was very fumbly and definitely less than lustful. 

Back at our new apartment, between settling in and study, our sexual start to married life wasn't improving. Five weeks later, we went on our formal ‘honeymoon’. But daily travelling and a different bed every night, left our “honeymoon” sexless.

Our first six months was a very fumbling, intermittent sex life. Between women’s issues and her other health problems 2 or 3 times a month, sex was infrequent and mediocre. I think there was one very good encounter when I took the whole day off and we spent half the day in bed, mostly in fore-play, finally achieving successful coitus. Whilst my wife enjoyed extended foreplay, she was mostly not comfortable going below the waist. In month’s 7 to 12, despite moving into a house from the 1 bedroom apartment, sex virtually ceased, with my wife no longer able to relax enough to allow penetration - vaginismus, ‘frozen vagina’.

Over the next couple of years, the vaginismus subsided, but her health problem meant that we visited hospital ER more often than we had sex (4-5 times per year). As for quality, “Think of England”.

We finally found a medical specialist that was somewhat supportive of us starting a family by carefully reducing medication by half and closely monitoring my wife's medical condition. It was a matter of treading the fine line between the congenital danger of high dose meds. and the dangers of a low dosed medical condition. Using the Billings method, conception was achieved in 3 months. Wow, sex, whether she wanted to or not, once a month for 3 months - the most frequent sex in our married life before (or since). The 9 months of pregnancy went smoothly health-wise, though sex was off. Then life was hit for a six when our child was born with multiple congenital conditions requiring immediate life-saving surgery, then full repair and follow-up surgeries over the next 5 years.

The first couple of years post natal, were sexless. I guess conjugal relations were of such a low priority, that the years slipped by. In hindsight,  I estimate that over 20 years, we averaged between 0 and 2 times per year.

At around the 30 year mark, we were empty-nesters, mortgage paid and a comfortable career. My wife’s medical condition had settled a little. I started pressing/encouraging increased (resumed?) sexual activity, but with little success. It seemed to be a matter of “Well, if you really must. Hop on and get it over with” - hardly encouraging - 'sympathy sex' at best. I backed off somewhat and tried to get her interested in mutual masturbation, but there was no interest - touching ‘down there’ was off limits, and oral was abhorrent to her.

Eventually, I got her to talk about our situation, but all I got was “I just don’t enjoy sex and never have”. Well, after that smack in the face, I promised that I would never ‘bother’ her about it again, and I haven’t.

It was 3-4 years later, that she started to open up a bit more about her childhood. It seems that her introduction to sex was as a pre-teen, hearing her drunken alcoholic father having his way with his wife and hearing her mother pleading to be left alone. Even in the 1960’s, a woman was still her husband’s chattel and conjugal rights were expected. "Rape in marriage" was inconceivable by definition of ‘marriage’.

After a few months, she asked her mother about it, and she had her first ‘lesson’ in sex-ed, including rape. The ancients described this as "The sins of the father will be visited on his children to the 3rd and 4th generation" (Ex.20:5, Num.14:18, Deu.5:9).

Never a truer statement has been made, than "The must important sexual organ is the one between our ears"!

So that just leaves me. When we vow “For better or worse, in sickness and health”, I guess we all assume that the worse and sickness will only be a small percentage of married life. How one deals with and transcends the "worse" is a measure of your character and depth of love. Our relationship had virtually declined into ‘patient and carer’. Any hope of 'normal' marital sex was totally LOST! I started going through bouts of depression. Who cares for the carer? It was through discussions with a friend at work, that I started to realise that there was no point in just blaming circumstances for one’s unhappiness. I had to take responsibility for my own happiness, thinking outside the square of societal conventions. The Good Book tells us to ‘Love your neighbour as yourself’ - I had been taught the first half all my childhood, but not really much about loving myself - that was always seen as being ‘selfish’.

And so I ‘bit the bullet’ and started taking some occasional ‘me time’ with some ‘Ladies Of Pleasure’. I had tried once before on a business trip, but it was over in a couple of minutes and I remember thinking "Is that all there is!". But this time, I was lucky to find a kind, more mature lady, that was very understanding of my situation and led and guided me through a lovely time.

FOUND

And so it was that in my mid-50s, I FOUND what I had never had. Through a forum of men in situations like myself, I learned about brothels and private sex workers, of the wide range of services available and of all the different types ladies, from 'star-fish' to nymphos. With some delightful ladies, I discovered/learned about the differences between women and men's arousal patterns, of pleasuring a woman, how mutual enjoyment can be far better than individual pleasure, that love and sex can coexist separately. I learned the difference between love-sex and fun-sex. I learned how humor and laughter can enhance the sexual experience. I learned to give and receive oral for the first time - I've had some wonderful teachers. I've learned about Booty Buddies, Friends With Benefits and Sugar Daddys. OMG I feel so embarrassed to be confessing my sexually deprived upbringing.

In the anonymity and privacy of brothel pillow talk, I have had ladies confide things they might not even share with a BFF, of their likes and dislikes as far as client behaviour is concerned, and I've learned a lot about fellow men's lack of sexual education, experience and confidence - just like me. So I set about to write a BLOG about what I was learning, of personal experiences and educational essays, then later fictional pieces.

For others in situations like mine, I wrote "A Lustless Relationship Survivors Memorial".

I've found fulfillment in my writing, of bringing pleasure and sex-positive knowledge to a wider community. And I've found a wonderful community of fellow writers, that support and encourage.

Losing IT Again

But with age, I discovered declining libido, of Erectile Dis-function. Then we add on prostate cancer and the impact of roast prostate by radiotherapy and how that leads to further ED, lower libido, loss of ejaculation ability and lowered tactile sensation.

But I'm working on IT. With regular ED meds. and regular self-love and trial 'test drives', all is not completely lost, if not totally re-found! Never is there a truer saying than "Use it or lose it!".

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who else has Lost and/or Found
Wicked things on 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.

 

 

Lust Through the Years

Dear Diary,

I know its been quite some time since we communicated, but with this pandemic virus and isolation, the possibilities for intimate socializing have been zero. Sure, I wrote last year, "Vale Sir Lust", but the demise of my lust is slightly exaggerated. Whilst my "get up and go" has not entirely "got up and gone", with chemical assistance and a lot of effort, I can "get it up" occasionally, but the "go" is only a trickle. But worse, the lustful urges are just a slightly sad, warm memory.

At least, one of the benefits of aging, is time and history for introspection and reminiscence. One of those observations, is the way lust changes through the years. Briget Delaney asked for Erotic Journals about being "Lustful" - I cover the range of lust here, but I don't think there's too much erotica in it.

Pubescent Lust - Learning, Dreaming, Wishing, Waiting, Discovery

As a pre-teen boy, from those earliest stirring in the loins, you knew that you were at the start of something wonderful, of manhood. There was the discovery that rubbing and friction produced a wonderful feeling, and then the magic of an erection - was "Jack and the beanstalk" really a youngster's erotic tale? 

Then came the obligatory "sex education" talk - what a waste of an hour - just medical talk about sperm, follopian tubes, eggs and the uterus; all about reproduction and absolutely nothing useful about "sex". Real sex-ed occurred in the school yard, especially from boys who had older brothers, where we learnt about sticking your 'willy' into something called a 'cunt'. But it was the secrecy of something illicit that stirred the excitement. Then occasionally there were the crumpled "dirty pictures" that surreptitiously got passed around.

This was the beginning of "lust". The stories, pictures and imaginings warmed the loins and triggered erections - oooh, the pleasure. From rubbing against playground equipment and shimmying up poles to get an erection, we graduated to masturbation and the wonder of ejaculation. Sexual thoughts and dreams seemed to consume the whole day. Sexual dreams were so intense, you could wake up with a very hard erection and pajamas wet with ejaculate, or more embarrassing, wets sheets and the worry that mum might find them.

Lust on the Doorstep of Adulthood

In the late teens, we discovered "lads mags" and saw the naked female form in all its voluptuous beauty, for the first time. For most guys, this was the time of dates, of dances, of sexual exploration, fumbling gropes in the back row of the picture theatre. Some even progressed "all the way".

But for me, growing up in a straight-laced religious family, where dancing was almost evil, and rock music the call of the devil, head-lined by that hip-swivelling  personification of evil, Elvis Presley, that was leading the youth of the world down the path to eternal damnation. The growth of my sexual life was stunted to say the least, though lust persisted. But how could something so natural for all men (I had still to learn about women's lust), be considered the source of temptation to sin?

Eventually, I left home in my tertiary years and my first serious female relationship developed. We progressed through snogging, to gropes, but never "down there".

Lust in Marriage - For Better or Worse

I quickly discovered that my marriage was not going to be "lust-full" - there were all sorts of emotional, medical and sexual baggage. But we stuck it out and 90% of the time I had to DIY. Lust was different now - it was an aching longing for what should be but I didn't have. Despite ongoing serious medical issues, a child was eventually planned and conceived, thanks to the Billings method and coitus once a month whether she wanted to or not - the most frequent sex we had in our entire married life.

With 18 years of further medical issues with our child, on top of aggravated medical problems for my wife, sex took a very distant back seat, from zero to once a year, a "sympathy" fuck at best. 

Work took me away interstate at times for up to a week, so there were many lonely nights with daily porn and masturbation for my unsated lust.

Post Middle Age Liberated Lust

With the mortgage paid off, the family left home and medical condition much settled, I thought we might have a second chance to develop a sex life. But it wasn't to be. She finally got up the courage to tell me that she didn't enjoy sex and never had and would rather not have any ever again.

Well that was a kick in the guts. I was a faithful husband, had a beautiful family, a good career, but my identity as a "man" was in doubt. My painful lust descended into depression. It was a woman at work, divorced and in a new relationship, that opened my eyes to understand that I had to take responsibility for my own happiness, in spite of circumstances. And so I decided to take the plunge into paying for sexual satisfaction.

Well that was probably the best thing I could have done. Depression lifted, I was coping at home as a carer better. There was so much I was learning about women's sexuality, pleasuring each other, and the whole package of close intimate 'relationships' (I guess I was very lucky in my selection of my ladies-of-pleasure way above the average sex-worker).

Lust was quite different now. After each encounter, the euphoria lasted over a week. Around the 3 week mark (I was in my late 50s after all), the wonderful lustful urge became almost all consuming, so I just slipped out for another "long lunch" or left work a little early for a stop-off on my way home, to catch up with one of my wonderful ladies. Lust was moving on from just wanting/needing to "get my rocks off", to desire for the the full intimate encounter.

Sexygenarian Lust as One Ages

One day I was seeing a new lady, that wasn't quite up to my usual level of excitement, when lo and behold, I lost my erection mid-coitus. Aging erectile dysfunction had arrived. My doctor prescribed Viagra and everything was wonderful again. Erections were harder and lasted longer. But as a few more years passed, despite a good hard erection, I found it harder to orgasm at all.

The lustful urges were becoming less frequent, and focused on the totality, and I was settling down to a handful of very special regular ladies rather than going on the prowl for a conquests.

Prostate Cancer, Radiotherapy, Declining Lust and the Future

I've covered this topic extensively in recent posts, which brings me back to my introduction at the top of the page. I'm at the point now where I'm wondering if, when I become widowed, whether there will be a last, if somewhat short chance at some intimate sexuality. There are at least two couples in our retirement village that have hooked up or married since coming here. I read about octogenarians fathering children, and one or two of my LOPs have told me of 80+ year old clients coming in for some relief comfort on the way home from visiting their dying wife in hospital. So you never know.

So dear diary, there is one constant throughout life, and that is sexual lust. I have posted some years ago, "I Lust, Therefore I am", our "ID" as defined by Sigmund Freud. We are human sexual beings after all. The most important thing in life, is how we harness our lust to fit in with all the other aspects of life.

"Lustful"

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!

A, B, C - (new) beginnings (#AtoZChallenge)

Let's start at the very beginning,

A very good place to start,

When you read you begin with A-B-C,

When you sing you begin with Doe-Ray-Me.

"Sound of Music"

It was over 30 years into a 'lustless' marriage, that my wife finally dropped the bombshell that "she didn't enjoy sex, and never had and didn't want it". But marriage is not just about the sex - there were lots of reasons to stay together, not the least being my increasing role as her carer with her medical condition. Needless to say though, it messed with my psyche with bouts of depression.

It was a lady at work that finally inspired me. She was a real go-getter, divorced, raising a teenage boy, building her own house, looking to start a new relationship. I learned to NOT let circumstances control my life and feelings, but to take responsibility for my own happiness. I realised that it wasn't just my wife's condition, but that I had all sorts issues from my own upbringing as well as societal mores that I had to re-evaluate.

So I finally took the plunge into transactional sex. Fortunately, here in Melbourne, Australia, the sex-work industry is legalized and regulated. It was an enormous learning experience for me. From simply getting used to various procedures and protocols of how brothels operate, to introducing and selecting ladies, negotiating the whole range of service offerings, learning about sexual techniques and positions that I had never experienced before, to finding, understanding and negotiating the whole client-lady 'relationship' issues. It was almost as bad as negotiating the whole dating scene.

But sexually, I was like a kid let loose in a lolly shop. So many ladies, so many experiences, so little time. OMG, is this what married life should have been like?

Health wise, my chronic depression lifted, though home-life was still heavy going. My 'outings' provided periodic boosts to get me through the following couple of weeks. It provided much needed respite. Who cares for the carer? What I've learnt is that the most important thing is to learn to care for yourself. To be a better lover/carer of someone else, love yourself as well.

Well I finally found a parlour, "The Main Course", a short tram ride from work, with a range of more mature ladies that I hit it off with. With a flexible work-place, I was able to get out for long 'lunches' once or twice a month. I ended up with about a dozen ladies whose company I enjoyed and would visit semi-regularly. My 'problem' became deciding who I should see next, to spread myself evenly amongst them. I came up with my "A-B-C" system - April, Bianca, Cristal, etc... My visits were now alphabetical, so I got to visit each of my dozen 'regulars' once or twice a year.

Another major learning experience, was about relationships. During numerous pillow talks, I got to learn a lot about and appreciate all the different experiences and relationships that got these ladies to this point. Most importantly, relationships must be equally two-way. There is no place for 'ownership' or 'possessiveness'. Years earlier, in our marriage vows, we did not 'take' each other, but 'gave' ourselves to each other. I had a short booty-buddy 'relationship' with one lady when she left the brothel. But when the time came that she found a proper boy-friend, I was happy to step aside and happy for her happiness.

"Vive ut vivas" (Live life to the fullest). "Ancora Imparo" (Still Learning).

 

Click to see who else is taking the challenge. 

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)

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!"

How Long is Enough?

No, I don't mean linear measure – my ladies and I are quite satisfied with my very average 15cm - rather, I mean elapsed time. Besides, 2cm of tongue seems to elicit more pleasure.

 

My question arises from age related changes. In 'normal' sexual relations, the length of time involved is essentially always determined by the male's time to ejaculation. In my earliest experience, with premature ejaculation issues, 2 minutes was about my mean. I have read research that suggests the average length of copulation is 5-7 minutes.

But for we senior citizens (I'm just a year away from my 'soixante neuf' year), with ED (pharmacological assistance required) and prostate issues, ejaculation at all is rare. So without ejaculation, how/when does an encounter end?

 

Now I admit that my personal situation limits my sexual 'relations' to financially constrained time limits. Some ladies seem to impose their own personal limit of around 10 minutes before the “Have you come yet?” question. Most are quite unfamiliar with men that don't cum, and feel professionally inadequate that they have not been able to 'satisfy' their client to 'completion'. And of course they have to 'keep' themselves ready for other clients during the day/night. And as a profession as a whole, they are not there for their own satisfaction – although I am blessed to have a few very special regular ladies that I see that tend toward the 'nympho' end of the market.

 

So between kissing and cuddling, two way oral and a variety of positions, we generally last 45-60 minutes before we have 'had enough', although it's generally my call. Further, I have very sensitive skin, so friction 'burn' is also a factor, irrespective of lubricant, or condom or not. Thank God for tongues.

 

So fair readers, back to my question, “How long is enough?” I would be very interested to hear your comments and of your 'measure'.

To Cheat or Not To Cheat, That is The Question

When sex in one's marriage comes to an end, you are left with a turmoil of emotions. The decision to move forward into commercial sex might seem straight forward, but it is like the first time you stood on the edge of a diving board, petrified about taking the plunge into the pool.

"To cheat, or not to cheat, that is the question:

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer

The slings and arrows of celibate matrimony,

Or to take arms against a sea of scruples,

And by opposing end them? To fidelity: to begging;

No more; and by a fuck to say we end

The heart-ache and the thousand natural aches

That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation

Devoutly to be wish'd. To fuck, to come;

To come: perchance to ecstasy; ay, there's the rub."

(With apologies to The Bard)

NB: 'Punt': to take a (monatory) risk or gamble;  in this context to take a gamble to pay for a sex worker. Fortunately, here in Australia, Sex Work is legal, highly regulated and safe, so the only "risk" is whether you will get the quality of sex you paid for or desired.

Respecting Personal Preferences & Space

The big lie of the anti-prostitution lobby (and Hollywood) is the "straw-man" argument that generalizes all "working" ladies as down-and-out drug addicts controlled and abused by their "pimps".  Of course, nothing could be further from the truth.

However, as punters it is also easy for us to fall into the trap of expecting all "services" to be the same just because we are paying for them.  But these ladies are individuals with their own preferences and prejudices, feelings and foibles, from the same gamut of backgrounds and relationships as we of the punter population, and deserve to be shown the same respect as anyone else.

Because the service she is selling is such a personal service, unlike any other service or goods for sale, it is imperative that the buyer and the seller should come to an understand at the very beginning of what the ground-rules, preferences and boundaries are. (However, what I am not particularly happy with are the artificial boundaries some ladies put up simply to extract extra cash).

For example, anyone who has 'known' a number of ladies quickly discovers that there is a wide range of natural kissing styles, just as I am sure the ladies will say the same about the gentlemen they see.  But what we are discussing here is when a lady finds passionate kissing too "personal" for her liking - perhaps she has a special friend or partner for whom she wants to reserve that right.  Respect her choice.

If a lady is not comfortable with something you are asking for, then don't make the booking.  If she is offering services beyond your comfort zone, then draw your line - if its in the middle of service just say "I'm not comfortable with that, lets not go there".  Respect each others choices.

I have encountered a wide range or ladies' preferences, from the "star fish" that wanted no personal interaction at all and saw her role purely as a "receptical" for her client (never booked her again), to the almost sex-crazed nymphomaniac (a regular I see as often as I can cope with her).

So lets look at some of these personal preferences:-

Kissing restriction on certain erogenous zones (ear lobes, neck, nipples, toes, etc)? Respect her preferences.

Oral on you, yes, no, with or without? (Note in some Australian states, this is now a legal issue though how it can be policed beats me). Respect her preferences.

Blow-job - COF, Spanish, CIM, swallow? Respect her tastes.

Oral on her, yes or no? Respect her preferences.

Fingering - clitoral stimulation only or internal G-spot? Respect her preferences.

Use of toys? On her? On you? Food as toys? Respect each others preferences.

Fantasies and dress-up? Type? 'French Maid' might be OK, but 'baby diaper' might be too far.  Respect her preferences.

'Dirty' talk? Respect her preferences.

Sexual intercourse itself is a given for 'escort' and brothel services, but recognize that ladies that opt for stripper and exotic dancing services are NOT offering full sex.  So don't embarrass yourself and ask or pressure a lady.  Respect her choice.

Then there are services beyond the 'normal' which are more likely to attract an extra charge and are more usually special offerings advertised.

Anal (Greek)?

B&D

Dom/Sub? Pain?

Sex is meant to be an enjoyable activity, so don't spoil it for yourself or your lady by pushing beyond a person's comfort zone.

x

‘Tis Better to Give Than to Receive?

I guess we all had this mantra drummed into us at Christmas time in our childhood. But long ago, I learned the importance of being able to “receive” gracefully in a manner so that the “giver” feels appreciated.

And its not just in the giving and receiving of physical things that this applies.  A couple of years ago, I found myself spending so much time browsing the internet and reading blogs - then it suddenly hit me - the majority of people are “consumers” but there are very few “producers”.  It was at this point that I was challenged (in myself) to start blogging and to start sharing with the blogosphere some of my own experiences.  From the dearth of comments on thus blog, I gather that the ratio of readers to writers/commenters has changed little - so come on - how about a little feedback!.

And it is rather stating the obvious that reciprocity is the spice of sexual encounters, even in the payment-for-service environment.  So I am amazed when some of my regular ladies tell me of clients that barely speak, treating them as an inanimate sexual “receptical” and leave as soon as they have cum despite remaining time “on the clock”.

For me, one of the great joys of getting into punting, has been learning the delights of cunnilingus and the taste of “cunnilinctus”.  I seem to have achieved some modicum of skill from the compliments I have received and the number of orgasms I have elicited.  And there is no doubt that a lady that has been fully excited is more than ready to return the compliment, so much so that with some of my regulars we have got rather “carried away” (VBG)!

And its not just in the purely sexual aspects that reciprocity contributes to an enjoyable experience.  Particularly with regulars, sharing a conversation, personal events, gifts, a sense of humour and the warmth and tenderness of a shared cuddle add immensely.

In closing then for 2011, can I wish all my readers a very Happy New Year!!!

Embarrassing Moments - Forgetting to Pay

It was a recent post by Capital Punter on the protocol of paying, that brought this incident to mind.  It wasn't just forgetting to pay that was embarrassing, but the situation that led up to it.

I had started to see T privately after she decided to leave the "industry".  I was her only "client" but we had never actually discussed payment or amounts.  On previous visits I had simply left a generous "gift" in an envelope on the table.

On this particular occasion, we had planned to go out to lunch on the Wednesday, but a massive storm blew up Tuesday night and the roof of T's house sprung a leak and she had water dripping through the ceiling.  The owner and/or agent were to come to inspect the damage on the Wednesday afternoon, so our little tête-à-tête was postponed to Thursday.  

So on Thursday, we had had a wonderful couple of hours and were reclining in the lounge, sipping hot chai lattes, she in nothing but a bath-robe, and me mostly dressed but in stockinged feet and jacketless.  

Suddenly the dogs started barking outside - T 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.  T was thus tied up showing the workmen the problem, so I quietly said my goodbye and excused myself.

It was the next day that I got a text message from T 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.