My Life As A Male Escort

I have become an avid reader of Howie’s diary posts in Elliott’s blog. Like many people I am fascinated by the world of sex workers. In the mainstream world the way their work runs is largely unknown and I love the perspective Howie gives. In my travels into the world of alternative sex I came across a very rare thing. A man who had worked as an escort. It was exciting to get a glimpse into a profession that many people don’t realise exists. I thought that some of what he had to say would be great to share with you guys.

I met Roman through a dating website. While he is still quite virile and active in the adult dating scene he no longer works as an escort. Which, in my opinion, is a great loss for some women. Gain for me though. He agreed to share some of his ideas and experiences with me for my blog for which I am very grateful. The answers to my questions are as follows. I have tried to keep the words as close as possible to what he said but there may be some paraphrasing.

How long did you work as an escort?

Three years

How old were you while you were working?

46 – 49

Did you work for yourself?

I was a sole contractor. The laws in Queensland (Australia) do not allow sex workers to have drivers, security guards or operate in partnership with another sex worker. Laws regarding advertising are stringent and also include not allowing a sex worker to legally employ a web designer to create their website. There are different laws regarding brothels which employ women. There are also regulations about the number of hours a sex worker can operate etc. During the time I was working I believe that I was contacted several times by people who were testing me to make sure I was legitimate and following the required regulations.

How did you find clients?

Clients came to me. I was able to advertise on certain websites and also with Google words. It was very important for me to be quite clear with my advertising that I was only interested in female clientele.

What were the mechanics of the work; prices, meeting places etc?

The prospective client would email me through the website I used or text me. I had a separate phone that was used only for my work. I had some screening in place to make sure the client was genuine, and as mentioned above, female looking for a male. The prospective client would need to send through photos and go through a verification process ( I was never able to find out how this worked). We would chat for about a week or so before the client would decide if the arrangement was suitable. Often it would take time for them to clear their nerves and get used to the idea that they were paying for sex.

The pricing structure was as follows;

$800 – Sex. Meet at the client’s house or hotel that they had booked and paid for for three hours

$1500 – Date Experience. The client would pay the money in cash up front. Roman would organise everything for the evening; restaurant, hotel, transport. During the lead up to the date Roman would discover the type of food they liked, the type of music they liked and how they liked to dress. He would pick her up and take her to a restaurant the he had organised, buy her drinks, order food that they would share together and be very attentive. Because the age difference between them was not usually noticeable the women were able to feel like they were on a real date. Following the meal they would spend time in their hotel.

$3000 – Overnight boyfriend. This was similar to the Date Experience but involved his company for the entire night including breakfast the next morning.

The key to the success of the date was in getting the woman to relax. Keeping the conversation focussed on them and things they were interested in meant that the sex later would be memorable for them.

That is the reason for so much planning. I would keep notes based on the initial conversation and also after the first date. If the client returned then I would be able to refresh my memory so that I could keep that feeling of being focussed on her.

Did you have regular clients? If so what was the average time they stayed with you?

About 25% of my business was repeat customers. On average women would revisit after about four months. It would take them that long to get over the shame of using an escort. The pattern they would usually follow would be dinner date, dinner date, sex followed by overnight.

What types of women did you see?

Mostly professional women, teachers, nurses, real estate agents. They fell into two categories. One was single professionals who were tired of the dating scene. They wanted to have an arrangement where they didn’t have to think and put up with other people’s schedules. They could organise things to suit themselves.

The second category were women from broken relationships who had been treated badly. They often had no self esteem and no confidence in themselves. Sometimes I felt like I was a therapist who was building their confidence back up.

Did you have favourite clients?

Two stand out in my memory. The first was a woman who had a particular fantasy about a man who resembled me. Her friends arranged for me to visit her for her birthday. I was at her house for about twenty five minutes before she said she had enough and asked me to leave. I never saw her again and I believe that the whole thing was about revenge.

The second was a woman who was very attractive and successful. She liked to role play that they were a couple who were genuinely in love. She was able to relax enough with me that she could climax for the first time. During later dates I was able to make her squirt and she even experimented with anal.

Side note: Roman is NOT a small man in the cock department. This woman is braver than I ever was.

She also wanted to try water sports. I was very reluctant to do this and was worried that I would not be able to perform. It turns out that she also relaxed me enough that I could pee on her for a very long time.

Did you have any bad experiences?

I was very careful about meeting people. I would chat for long enough to know that it was going to work. During the vetting process the clients would have to explain why they were hiring and what their personal situation was. It helped me to be sure that things would work out.

What were some of the things you enjoyed about this job?

I enjoyed being able to make women feel attractive and as if they deserved to be treated well. I never thought any of my clients were unattractive. Certainly they were not movie stars. They had curves and squishy bits but many of them were mothers and had lived lives that involved building a family and a career. They had earned their bodies. Their husbands who had earned their fat guts by drinking beer and sitting on their arse did not have the right to tell these women they are fat.

It makes me happy to be a gentleman, to open doors and to do ‘old school’ things. Some of my clients did not like that but most of them did.

How did your work change the way you see men?

I was saddened by men who were not able to respect the women in their lives. I believe very strongly that women should be revered. Mothers have the highest status in my view. It makes me sad and angry that men use criticism and negative talk to keep a woman “in her place”

Did your feelings about your work change over time?

The stories about men mistreating women started to get to me. Ultimately that was the reason I stopped. As I said before I often felt like a therapist and it was draining.

The other thing that started to get to me was the way women would put me on a pedestal. I didn’t feel like I deserved that. I was doing my job, that they paid me for, and being a decent human being. I don’t feel that I am special.

I am very grateful to Roman for sharing his experiences. I hope that you guys enjoy it as well.

Unexpected Implications of Monogamy

I posted recently about our deeply rooted ideas and feelings structured around monogamy. I alluded to the way that our thoughts surrounding monogamy are so deeply ingrained that they bleed into our feelings. I started writing that post a few days ago. It was in response to a comment passed by a Twitter follower. As I wrote it I had no idea about how ironic the content would be in my own life.

I have documented a few times on these pages about my encounters with Johnny. I have known this man for about seven or eight months. From the time we first made contact it was electric. There was never an encounter I had with him that left me feeling unsatisfied. He was always a perfect gentleman.

A few days ago I received a message from him (worded beautifully) telling me that he had started a serious romantic relationship and our time had to end. He wished me well and told me a bunch of stuff that made me tear up. As I write these words I feel the tears threatening to make their appearance again. I want to emphasise that my relationship with this man was in no way romantic. We never went on a date. We never even had a drink together. The weekend we met Covid restrictions were starting to be enforced and all public meeting places like bars and coffee shops were closed. We met in a park for about fifteen minutes before that first electric touch and it was all fucking from there.

But fucking is not impersonal. It is the most personal thing we can do as humans. There is no clothing, you are skin to skin, breath to breath. Neither of us held back or lied or pretended it was OK when it wasn’t. We shared and we pushed each other to try new things. Well I pushed him mainly but he didn’t argue. Even though I don’t know how he drinks his coffee and what he does for a living or what kind of music he likes I know the look he gets when he is about to cum. I know how hard and fast and deep he likes it. He knows the parts of my body that most people will never see, thankfully. Just because our friendship was made of a chain of naked, sweaty sessions of sex and not a million mundane conversations about children and food and abstract ideas does not make it less intimate. I does not negate the feelings of loss when it is ended.

And so I was sad when I received his message. Not angry, because he did nothing wrong. He was, as always, a perfect gentleman. I was not ready to move on but I understand why he was. The irony is in the fact that I could not share the loss of my friend with anyone around me. Despite believing in non-monogamy and accepting that this feeling of loss was completely valid and natural. Despite knowing that as far as my marriage and ‘primary’ relationship was concerned this relationship was consensual in every aspect. I could not share with the vanilla world my feeling of sadness.

I could not explain why I was feeling so bummed. Nor could I really explain to my students why my face was not happy. Of course, like teenagers, they assumed my mood was somehow related to them; but that is a separate issue. I could not share my feelings with my colleagues. If it had been a neighbour or other friend, the kind I shared a million mundane conversations with, I could have told everyone I met that day and they all would have sympathised. But because he was out of the box I couldn’t. Even with a protracted explanation the vanilla world is so entrenched in monogamy that they would miss the point. I would be judged. For wanting to be non-monogamous, for enjoying it, and worse, for admitting that I actually like sex.

We like things to fit into neat boxes. We like rules and boundaries. Except when we don’t. Mostly we like rules to apply to other people so we can be sure how to react to them. When someone doesn’t follow the rules you have set for them, and for yourself (when you choose to follow them) it is unsettling. Non-monogamy is like that. Unsettling. It doesn’t follow the rules. It is not predictable and you can never know exactly what it means for a given person.

Of course I will not feel like this forever. As I type I feel the loss becoming fainter. In time I will be pragmatic about it and those evenings will become just a part of my history. Memories of being amazing and daring to be different.

My Ironically Monogamous Brain

I wrote a post a while back about my biological theory relating to the behaviour and fascination with Alpha males. In it I espoused my theory about the reasons why women are so strongly attracted to Alpha Males even though many of them are quite toxic to be around for any length of time.

I believe that the idea of monogamy was something invented by weaker men who wanted to ensure that they could capture a female and keep her at his beck and call for as long as he liked. Mr Jones and I are currently watching the Netflix series The Tudors.

In this drama based on the events during the reign of King Henry VII n overwhelming amount of thought is given by the characters to which women will marry which men. In this society marriage is many things, a political tool, a strategic maneuver and a way to beget offspring that will inherit. Women’s value is placed on their attractiveness and their ability to bear children, particularly male children. Their purity is also of key importance. They must appear to only have sex with one man or their value is completely lost and they will never be able to secure a good marriage.

It is out of this mess of religious influence over political thought that our modern ideas of monogamy emerged. Today marriage does not have the same strategic value it once did and male heirs are definitely a thing of the past, Gina Reinhart is an amazing Australian example of this. But we cling to our ideal of monogamy. Even in a relationship that shuns the idea of formal marriage and religious ideas of purity until marriage we still cling desperately to monogamy.

I never really understood completely how deeply and firmly monogamy is entrenched into our psyche until I had a lightbulb moment while reading a message from a follower. In it he describes his experience with a woman he is seeing outside his marriage. It is his first experience of non-monogamy, so to speak. What grabbed my attention was his mention of how he felt uncomfortable with his new lover’s openness about other men she was seeing.

His words struck a chord in my brain. I too feel this way sometimes. It is a little confronting when a lover shares some details of other lovers during conversation. When a man I am seeing is not available to me because he has other commitments I get a little jealous.

Which is weird really. I mean I am going home to my husband after I finish with them aren’t I? They would be foolish to think that they are the only extramarital dalliance I have entertained. They just have to go on a scroll through these pages. So who am I to think I am the only person who takes up their attention? It is ironic, stupid and evidence of the deep rooted ideas that are planted in everyone’s brain by Disney and the likes.

Every woman wants to be a princess and the complete apple of some man’s eye. Every man wants to be the knight in shining armour who captures the heart and undying devotion of the woman he chooses. I mean even Fifty Shades of Grey follows this formula. And so even when I am with someone outside of my marriage. When I am fucking Lancelot with the full knowledge of King Arthur, so to speak, I feel jealous because Lancelot also spends time with Jenny the chambermaid.

The non-monogamist in me is strongly cynical of this kind of ideal. It grates against my conscious mind. My mind knows it is dumb. My heart is still wanting to be the complete focus of the man in front of me. My ego cannot completely cope with not being the complete focus of the man in front of me. It seems it will take some time to catch the heart and the ego up with my enlightened mind.

TMI Tuesday – Body Talk

Before I start this edition of TMI I just want to say that even though I wrote the questions I didn’t realise that it would turn into a so many opportunities to post photos. Not that I think most of you will mind.

1. Which part of your body do you think is the most sexy? Post a pic if you dare.

Ok so I like my boobs. Most people who see them in real life tend to agree. I have an awesome friend who did a photo shoot of me recently and I have shared a few of the shots here but I will do so again happily. Apologies if you have seen some of these before. I really need to have another session with my friend.

2. Which part of your partner’s body do you find the most sexy. Tell us about the time you first saw it.

I am a sucker for a great ass. It is one of the things about Mr Jones that I have always liked even as his body changed over the 23 years we have been together. This is quite an old photo but it honestly looks the same today as it did then.

3. Are you a fan of lingerie on yourself? Or on someone else?

Mr Jones is not really in to lingerie. Consequently my collection is relatively small. As I aged and my body changed I felt less confident to wear lacy things. Over my time as a swinger but more recently at my previous pole studio I have had experiences and seen myself in many different angles. I have become more comfortable with myself and will wear a bunch of things I never would have before. My lingerie collection these days includes a few bra and panty sets but other things like body stockings and sexy bodysuits.

4. “Fifty Shades of Grey”–  Work of genius or complete twaddle?

I was interested to read Cyndi from Moondance Pages’ take on this. I have never been a fan of Fifty Shades the book, mainly because I just can’t stomach the “Knight in shining armour rescues the damsel” storyline. Having said that I did really like the first movie. Mainly because the look and feel of it was so sexy.

It obviously isn’t complete twaddle or no-one would have wanted to read it. I definitely wouldn’t put it in the complete genius category either. Complete genius is something that is completely unlike anything else. To be regarded as a genius in my eyes is to conceive something that is unlike anything written before.

5. Would you rather listen to a sexy voice telling you what is happening or watch a sex scene on mute?

Watching is probably more my go to. If I watch porn, very occasionally, it is on mute. I often find sexy talk distracting when I have sex. Although there are some stand out sexy talk moments in my history. One of them is a long term friend who is firmly out of reach right now thanks to Covid and his insistence that Sydney is a much better place to live!!! One of the first times I sucked his cock he put his hand on the back of my head and whispered to me what a good girl I was.

Fuck….

Remembering that still gives me a twinge.

Bonus: Tell us about a time you experimented with a fantasy and it did not go according to plan.

This one time … (at band camp) …

Sorry I couldn’t help myself.

So once Mr Jones tried to organise a surprise for my birthday. He contacted several men we knew and arranged for them to visit me. I was completely unaware of the plan. On the night he tied me and blindfolded me and then I was “visited” over several intervals. There were pauses in between and there was no speaking. At the time it was fun but a little confusing. I knew each “visitor” was him but I didn’t know what he was trying to do.

It turned out that our “friends” had all pulled out and he was left manning the fort alone. He had organised baby sitters and we had the house completely to ourselves. This was not something that happened often so he didn’t want to completely waste the opportunity.

This post is part of this week’s TMI Tuesday. To see who else is sharing click here. Or on the image below.

Gratitude

A couple of years ago the captain of my school started “The Gratitude Project”. Her goal was to encourage all of the people in the school community to take time to notice and remember things they are grateful for. Each classroom had Gratitude Jars and students and teachers were encouraged to write on a slip of paper something they were grateful for, to put in the jar. The project was as successful as those kinds of things are. Some teachers got on board and some classes did some cool things. Two years on the jars make appearances from time to time in various guises. I guess there were about forty of them kicking around. One can’t blame the chaplain for recycling right?

Humans are a strange bunch. On a company and nation/ state level our culture is driven by growth. GDP must constantly increase, productivity must constantly improve. We must keep biggering and Biggering and BIGGERING!

But on a personal level we are seemingly compelled to take everyone, including ourselves down. I read a beautiful poem today, written by Nananoyz at Praying for Eyebrows about her mother who was never told she was beautiful. It made me think about the way we always assume people know that we think they are beautiful, strong, amazing and fabulous and so we never tell them. Often until it is too late.

I have recently been feeling a bit unappreciated. It is a long story and I am afraid if I write it in words it will sound peevish and just plain self centred so I won’t. I will simply say that as the end of the school year is upon us I didn’t feel that some students were showing as much appreciation for my efforts as they should. I wallowed in my self pity for a while until I kicked myself in the arse, reminded myself that part of the charm of teenagers is that they are inherently selfish and got on with it.

Then as I was sitting in my daughter’s graduation (she attended the school where I teach) a parent of a student who I had taught in her first two years of high school was sitting next to me. This particular student has learning difficulties. Unlike most she just gets on with it. She never asks for extra time, extra attention, or for someone to make allowances for her. She just asks for clarification, a lot. Even though we aren’t supposed to have favourites, she is a stand out in my memory bank.

Out of the blue the mum of this student says “Thank you for being so patient with my daughter, you helped her so much,” I was stunned. It has been four years since I had a class with her. But her mother remembered me and took the time to thank me. In all honesty I should be thanking her. Thanking her for allowing me to be part of the life of such an amazing student. But mostly for reminding me that we should not be focussing on who is thanking US but rather who in our lives needs our gratitude.

This post is part of this week’s Wicked Wednesday prompt, “Giving Thanks”. Although it is not as sexy as you guys are used to I felt moved to share my thoughts. Please click on the link below and see who else is being wicked this week.

Bisexual Men – A Strange Bunch of Nuggets

The word bisexual in the swing scene is an interesting social experiment. In 2009 – 10 ish when Mr Jones and I started on this journey bisexual women seemed to be the thing everyone looked for and bisexual men were pariahs who everyone avoided. There was some level of expectation that all women in the swing scene would interact sexually with other women. There was also some level of expectation that men would not “cross swords” or even fantasise about it.

Weird when you think about it. Also completely misogynistic. Men are attracted to female bodies (for the most part) and so expect that women would feel the same way. A lot of men are repulsed by their own bodies and so (for the most part) don’t want to look at other men. Or is it because they are afraid they will see something they like? I don’t know. It is all too coufusing.

Fast forward to now. People are becoming more open minded and the idea of MM interaction is more accepted. Men have discovered that some women (like me) actually find watching men pleasuring each other sexually very arousing. On the whole men and a lot of women haven’t quite evolved to appreciating the cock for the amazing beautiful thing it is but I am hopeful. Whatever the case bisexuality among men seems to be something that is more accepted.

There are levels though. Some men are OK with touching and being sucked; a mouth is a mouth right? Some men want to experience a cock in their mouth. Some men, (like Mr Jones) are feeling happier to bring out dark fantasies of wanting to see their wives covered with another man’s cum. Some men want to go all the way with being penetrated.

What is rare is a man who has an open and vocal appreciation of cock. I mean a man who will go down on his knees and worship a cock in the way I described here. I had never seen one until recently. It was the same evening as I had the creepy encounter. Once my new friend and I were despatched to a private room Mr Jones got naked as well. He of course was aroused and his cock is definitely one of the most attractive in any room. My new friend was impressed.

I watched as he kneeled in front of My Jones and took a cock in his mouth like no man I had ever seen before. He was truly in love with what he was doing. He sucked greedily and happily. He would have taken a mouthful of cum with relish. Mr Jones told me later he was the only person who can suck cock better than me. I think I need to up my game.

If you met the guy on the street or even in a swing club he would not seem any different from another guy. He didn’t seem to be interested in checking out other guys when they had their clothes on. Maybe it is just the cock he is interested in. Whatever the case he is comfortable with himself and his body and he knows what he wants. And honestly, that is sexy as hell.

Friday Flashback – Carpark Rules

Reading through old posts can be sometimes cool, sometimes cringeworthy. It seems like this activity is pushing me towards a certain person from my past. I am still in contact with this man but since we first met and subsequently enjoyed each other immensely he has moved to Sydney. We have connected a couple of times since he moved but at the moment he lives in a “hot spot” and he is not allowed to visit me without going through two weeks of quarantine and I cannot visit him without having to do the same on my return. And so we are, for the time, left to reminisce and send text messages.

A car is a funny place, Lucy mused as she opened the door to slide into the driver’s seat of her baby. The world outside was oblivious to her, cars sped by on the freeway nearby, students made their way from the bus station to the buildings of the university up the hill. She could hear their conversations through the opened sunroof and she knew that if they chose to look in this direction they would see her sitting in the driver’s seat with her companion beside her. They wouldn’t be able to see what he was doing to her under the dashboard but she didn’t care. 

Clint lifted the hem of her dress and caressed the smooth shaven skin of her pussy. She forgot about the people outside making their way from the bus station up the hill to the university as his fingers eased into her slit. Her head tilted back against the headrest and a small moan escaped from her lips as he stroked and teased her before slipping first one then two fingers into her deep wet hole. 

“Mmmmm someone is wet,” he murmured in her ear.

Lucy’s response was to slump down in her seat so that her knees could fall further apart, inviting him in deeper. He finger fucked her, teasing the sensitive spot right at her entrance. He had been there before and it didn’t take him long to find what he was looking for. The familiar feeling welled up inside her and she felt her body clamping in response to his touch. Instead of watching two people innocently chatting; the outsiders would have been able to watch her writhe in pleasure. If they had listened carefully they would have heard her deep throaty moans of pleasure. If they had  bothered to look. Lucy didn’t know if anyone looked or not, she didn’t care.  

She spasmed again and despite her efforts to contain herself a small trickle of liquid covered her pussy and Clint’s hand. He smiled in satisfaction as he withdrew his hand and sat looking at her for a few moments. 

“Did you enjoy that?” he asked.

“Yes” she smiled at him like a cat looking at a bowl of cream. She reached over and unclasped his pants. He eased his hips upwards to allow her to pull the waist band down over his ass. He sat for a few moments with his erect cock resting against his belly. The outside observer would have seen two people chatting amicably but out of sight of the outside world Lucy’s hand stroked Clint’s cock teasing the head as precum leaked out of him.

“I think someone else might be a bit excited,” she said as she leaned over to taste him. Her lips opened and she slid her mouth down over his cock a small way. On the back of her head she felt his hand. She knew he wanted her to go deeper but she took her time, wetting him with her saliva and teasing him a little before she side down further pressing his cock to the back of her mouth. He sighed in pleasure,

“Good girl,” he whispered as he wrapped her long hair around his hand controlling the movement of her head.

“You suck me so good,” he sighed again as she released him from her mouth for a moment before pushing her head back down over his shaft. He allowed himself the luxury of pushinig his cock into her mouth against the back of her throat making her body spasm with a gag as she sucked him.

“Fuck that feels so good,” he moaned. “Do you want a mouth full of my cum?” Lucy turned her head and looked up at him as she let his cock slide out of her mouth. Smiling, she ran her tongue down over his shaft before she licked his balls. 

“Ohhhhhh,” he sighed in pleasure as she carefully pulled his balls into her mouth, teasing the skin with her tongue. Gently she moved the sensitive globes around her mouth, teasing some more before releasing them and returning to the main course. Her mouth slid down over his cock taking as much of his length as she could. Absently she registered the sound of conversations walking past on the pathway but she was focussed on the task in front of her.

 There was the sound of a slap as his hand connected with her ass. Lucy moaned against him writhing in pleasure and sucking down harder on him. She felt his balls tightening and his cock hardening as his excitement increased. His hand twisted her hair a little tighter and his hips thrust his cock into the back of her throat. His excitement drilled deep into Lucy’s belly and she writhed against the seat as she opened her mouth for him to fuck. 

His cock pulsed and he groaned loudly as his cum emptied into her mouth. For a second Lucy wondered if anyone walking past would notice his face or hear the sound of his cumming but she only wondered for a moment before her mind went back to his cock pulsing sweet cum into her mouth. She held him between her lips gathering the cum in her mouth until he stopped moving.  

They lay back against the seats resting and chatting. She stroked his soft cock, smiling at the memory of what she had just done. People walked past, oblivious to what had just happened metres away from where they were walking. Lucy’s cunt throbbed a little. Her earlier orgasm had just whetted her appetite. The slap on her ass while she was mouthing him had been more of a teaser than anything else. 

“I want to fuck you,” she said. 

‘Mmmmm I think I would like to fuck you as well,” he agreed. “This car is a little small though,”

They were quiet for a few moments before he continued,

“I have to admit the idea of bending you over and smacking that sweet ass of yours before fucking you into the middle of next week does have a certain appeal though,”

“Well I am available,” she looked him innocently. 

They laughed and chatted back and forth about the merits of finding somewhere more comfortable to fuck like rabbits. Lucy was horny and sucking such a delicious cock had only made her want a good fucking.

As they spoke Clint’s cock stirred. To try and convince him that he really needed to come home with her Lucy bent down and licked him before slowly taking him into her mouth. 

“You do that so well.” He gripped her hair as he began thrusting

Do You Trust Me?

“Do you trust me?”

The words were innocent enough. And the answer came quickly to his lips, but something in her eyes made him hesitate. He wanted to trust her but when he took a moment to think about it, he realised how much he didn’t know about her.

They fucked weekly. Naked, sweaty, unrestrained sex. He was comfortable to pee in front of her. He was comfortable to let her pee on him. But did he trust her? He realised that for all the nakedness and hours spent licking, sucking, kissing, stroking, inspecting and fucking he knew very little about HER. He didn’t even know her name. He had never been to her house. Normal everyday things like what she looked like when she got out of the shower, how she liked her coffee he didn’t have a clue about.

He avoided her gaze; he didn’t want to answer the question with a bunch of other questions that were milling around in his head.

“I am not sure,” whatever she was planning must be out there or she wouldn’t have asked that question.

“You can ask for anything to stop any time,” her voice was gentle and reassuring.

Now he was really worried. She seemed to be so serious. For all the fucking they had done things had never really gone anywhere that unusual. He felt dark ideas lurking in the corners of his mind. Things he hadn’t really thought about. Things that excited him.

“Do you trust me?” she asked again.

He made a resolution to follow this, “Yes,” his reply was confident, the way he wished he felt.

She smiled; a strange, Mona Lisa type smile. One that made him more curious.

“Lie down,” she pushed him gently to lie in the middle of the bed. He complied letting the butterflies in his stomach flutter around in nervous anticipation. She strapped his hands to the ties at each corner of the bedhead so that he was lying spreadeagled and unable to remove himself. He became almost painfully aware of his cock being exposed. There was no way he could cover himself. The feeling of vulnerability was enticing.

She covered his eyes with a scarf. The thin fabric allowed some light through but obscured his view. Suddenly he became aware of every sound in the room as he tried to ascertain where she was, how she was moving. Air currents passed over his skin raising gooseflesh. He felt the warmth of her mouth on his cock. Moist warm wetness covered his shaft pulling his erection harder. Her head moved up and down and he felt the excitement rising. Just as the first drop of precum formed she stopped.

For a moment there was silence. He could feel the weight of her body on the bed beside him. Her hand encircled his shaft, holding his erection.

“You have such a pretty cock,” her voice seemed thoughtful. His heart beat faster. He felt more vulnerable than ever. He felt the bed move as she reached for something on the nightstand. His mind raced as he tried to remember what he had seen there earlier. When she had arrived, she had brought a silver case. He had been too hasty to undress her to explore the case. Now he berated himself for not paying attention.

He felt the trails of an implement stroking over his thighs. It felt kind of soft, but he still couldn’t place it. There was a slapping sound as she flicked the flogger gently against his thighs. Suddenly he remembered. He HAD seen inside the case; the small flogger had amused him as he had wondered why she would even bother with something so small. The tails of the flogger moved up his thighs and over his balls. His cock hardened more.

The tails of the flogger flicked lazily across the shaft of his cock. There was no sting, just the weight of the leather hitting him. The sensation was like nothing he had ever felt. There was the hint of what could happen but not a threat. Instinctively his hands jerked to cover himself, but the binding kept them in place. He felt more vulnerable than he ever had.

She continued to stroke his belly with the flogger, he relaxed a little, his mind stopped racing and he focused on the soothing feeling of the leather caressing his skin.

The room filled with the sound of a crack as she flicked a little harder. Striking his cock with the tails of the flogger. He gasped, more with surprise than pain. A drop of pre-cum formed at the tip of his cock. He felt the warmth of her tongue as she licked it away.

“I think he likes it,” she seemed to be talking to herself. She stroked his belly with her open palms before cupping his cock again, “Such a pretty cock,” She bent down and slid her lips over his shaft, taking in the whole length of his cock. Her tongue swirled over the head of his cock. He groaned with pleasure.

Her teeth clamped down on him gently, allowing him to feel the power she had over him. He gasped before she released his cock letting it slide wetly out of her lips. He felt the flogger stroking his belly and he tensed, unsure, excited. The sting of the flogger was stronger. His hips bucked in response. She followed with several more slaps, each a little harder. His cock felt as if it would explode. His hands twitched in their bonds.

Again, she placed her mouth on him, this time sucking his balls into her mouth one at a time holding them for a while. He held himself still, waiting, terrified of what she would do, terrified that she would stop. Her teeth grazed his scrotum as she released him catching the last fold of skin and holding it. She pulled her head gently away from him. The pain / pleasure was almost too much.

“Please,” the word whimpered out of his lips. What he was begging for he didn’t know.

The tension on his scrotum released and she paused for a while watching him.

“I want to taste your cum.” Her voice seemed to vibrate with the same excitement coursing through his entire body, “Are you ready to give it to me?”

“Yes,” his response ended in a hiss as her mouth slid down over his shaft. There were no teeth or teasing now just pure pleasure of her mouth fucking him greedily. Her tongue swirled over him and on each up stroke she sucked him a little like a child sucking a lollipop. He felt the familiar pressure rising. The automatic response to hold back almost kicked in but her greedy whimpers tipped him over the edge.

His cock exploded into her mouth. The release was intense. Her whole body undulated against him as her mouth contained all his seed. Several shudders wracked his whole body before he lay, still and spent. Almost reverently she released his cock. A string of cum linked her lips to him for a few moments until she wiped her mouth and grinned down at him like a child who has been given a treat.

“Did you like that?” she asked as she released his hands.

He could only nod in response.

“I think we should get some food while you recover,” she began to dress. “I am not finished with you yet.”

This post was written for this week’s Wicked Wednesday prompt “Trust”. Click here or on the image below to see who else is being wicked this week.

TMI Tuesday – Overratted or Underrated

This week Hedone’s header image was a series of men, some I recognised and others I am not sure about.

She forgot to include someone who is probably a little underrated these days, Jensen Ackles aka Dean Winchester and his Chevy Impala

Enough ogling. On to the questions.

Tell us what you think, are the following overrated or underrated? Why?

1. Birkin bags

I had to use the link to see what this was. I am all for a bag that has space for stuff. It was something I appreciated as a mother. These days I am able to go out without having to take the kitchen sink and frequently visit the shops with a purse and my phone. With Apple pay I can even cut this down to a phone some days.

As far as designer handbags go. I don’t see the point of the designer price tag. If the bag is well constructed and practical then yes I will pay a bit more for it. But $1000 for a handbag… yeh nah.

2. iPhone

So my answer to question 1 would probably have given this one away. We are an Apple family. We all have iPhones, we have shared calendars and I use the “reminders” app to allocate household tasks to my children. I can even set reminders for them. Works a treat!

3. Writing a book and self-publishing

I have actually written a novella and a collection of short stories, both of which I self published. It was a long time ago and I didn’t sell very many. It seemed very hard to find editors and cover artists. It also seems that a LOT of people are trying to go down that road. In this day and age of information sharing and free stuff on the internet it doesn’t seem like something that is ever going to be a viable career for most people.

Of course there will always be the JK Rowlings of the world but they are one in a million. I know it isn’t helping the people trying to get recognition but these days I am happy just putting stuff I scribble on here and getting some positive comments. If an agent ‘discovers’ me then yay but I am not holding my breath.

4. Scruffy, short beards

I am not really a fan of the beard. I appreciate the effort that goes into growing a viking style beard like this one

But I just don’t like getting down and dirty with a beard. The Columbian was a short beard wearer and while it suited him and he was definitely sexy there was this time when he went down on me, got a beard full of my juice and then fucked me without wiping his face. I never got over being dripped all over.

5. Hoodies

This is something I think works better with short hair, which I don’t have. HOWEVER, Mr Jones has a slight fetish about hoodies. So I wear them for him. I feel sexy wearing them because he sees me that way. Sometimes they are snuggly if you get the right fabric but I live in the sub-tropics. Snuggly clothes are not required much.

6. HIIT workouts

I don’t do gyms.

Unless there is a pole in them. I have blogged before about my pole dancing. I did have a break earlier this year but I have joined a new gym / studio and have started again from the bottom. I am re-learning and in some cases learning for the first time about building muscle groups that I had neglected. Pole dancing has become physically empowering for me again and it makes me happy.

So HIIT? No. Weird gym challenges with meal plans and the works? No. Getting bruised and pinched by a nine foot piece of brass? Bring it baby!!!!!

7. Boxer briefs

I am not sure what this question is referring to.

This kind of boxer

No.

This kind

Definitely preferable to tighty whities!!!

Bonus: Avocado toast. Overrated or underrated?

I am not sure about the rest of the world but in Australia there is a meme style joke about Millenials not being able to afford to buy a house because they spend to much on Smashed Avo. Personally I don’t mind a bit of avo on toast but the flavour is a little bland, I prefer it to be spiced up with some Vegemite.

I have recently introduced Elliot from Life of Elliott to Vegemite. He has been sharing his journey with me but when I suggested to try it with avo he declined which is of course his choice but I do believe it is a perfect union. So plain avo on toast – a bit meh, add some Vegemite and you have a winner baby.

Of course if you want to go all the way you could add a poached egg, some crumbled feta and black pepper.

This post is part of this week’s TMI Tuesday. To see who else is sharing click here or on the image below and head on over!

Guest Post – Derriere

I was sent a little gem from Mr Aus. It was so good I asked if I could share it with you all .

I see you lying there on the bed. Beautiful derriere exposed for all to see. A desperate urgency to have you came over me. I waste no time pulling aside the scrap of fabric that is your thong aside. Your head spins and you gasp as my tongue devours you from behind, probing and teasing your most delicate secret places.

You try to squirm away from the first flick of my tongue. Electric shocks course through your body, but I hold you firmly against the bed. You are mine to control. My free hand spreads those cheeks wide to expose the beauty of your tight little hole. My fingers circle around before slowly probing into you, stretching you. You are tense, sensing what may be coming,

“Relax baby girl, you are going to enjoy this,”

Your breath leaves your body, and you relax enough for me to slide my finger home. You groan with the pleasure. The sensation changes as I spread lube around, cold and wet, preparing your secret place. The butt plug presses against your secret place. I am in awe of your beauty. There is pure pleasure in seeing the plug inching slowly into you, stretching your tight bud. Your moans of pleasure are music to my ears, exciting me more.

As the plug pushes past the final bit of resistance you scream into the pillow. For a moment you rest feeling the fullness of the plug against your pussy wall causing delicate sensations. Your juice drip down over your thigh. Never have you felt excitement like this, sexy but very dirty at the same time. Lying there with your cute little derriere parted by the sparkly jewel, nestled between those cheeks. I kiss them gently before sliding your panties back into place.

“Good girl,”

Photo is courtesy of @Joyobex

Later that evening I catch a glimpse of your beautiful panty clad derriere standing at the kitchen bench. My mind plays over the events of the morning. There is only one thing I want now. I stroke those delicious cheeks, feeling the lace and the warmth of your skin. It feels so good.

You feel my breath on your neck, goosebumps prickle over your as I nuzzle your neck. You moan and gasp as kisses trail down your spine. My thumbs hook into the waistband of your panties and you spread your legs in readiness for me to wiggle them down. There is a ripping sound and air caresses your warm delightful cheeks. Your panties are in tatters on the floor and your delicious derriere is totally exposed.

I bend to drink your sweet aroma and fuel the fire burning inside me. My tongue dances across the lips of your pussy before probing deeper into your clit, teasing, tasting the sweet honey. I devour you and send waves of pleasure and desire crashing through you. Your moans fill the room as I spread your cheeks and plunge my tongue into your puckered hole. Your body bucks and jerks as you grip the bench and your moan echoes around the room. Heat and wetness splash onto your feel.

You turn your head and mash your lips against mine, kissing me deeply, madly, passionately. Our tongues are entwined, and you moan into my mouth as you feel my hard, throbbing shaft pressed against those delightful cheeks showing you how turned on I am right now.

Both of us are breathless as we break the embrace. I star deeply into your eyes and growl,

“Time to claim what is mine,”

Your breath catches in your throat as anticipation rises. I pull those cheeks wide, holding them there for a moment. There is a pause, you squirm as I tease you,

“Patience,”

My fingers spread lube, circling around your puckered rosebud. You squirm even more,

“Patience,” I laugh gently before pulling you back onto my erect cock. Your little rosebud is stretched as I slide in deeply. You cry in ecstasy.

For long moments I hold still, trying to regain my composure, enjoying the incredible sensations. Your head rests on the bench top as you mumble,

“Give it to me baby. Let me feel that sweet, sticky load.”