|
Pages: 1 2
>
| |
|
|
Its been a while since my last blog entry and that's because the final chapter of Ryan's Story is here but first reality had to catch up with my blog.
I have said before in my blog that sometimes you get to really click with a particular escort and that is wonderful - but also leads to "complications", and that is what this last chapter is about. I have met probably about 20 escorts over the years but to be honest, although I have met many lovely, charming girls only three really got under my skin. One of those was the Brazilian girl I have described already in my blog. Something about her I found particularly attractive, not simply on a physical level but on an emotional and intellectual level. It keeps me wondering "what might have been", but she always made it clear that there could be nothing more, although when she retired she invited me back for one last date and we spent a couple of extra hours together after the date just chatting about things so I guess she must have felt I was a "special" client in some way. Another girl that keeps coming back in my mind was Russian. I only got to meet her once but after a rather "vanilla" start to the date the second hour was particularly passionate and intense - another case of me wondering "what might have been". I asked this girl during the date "Are you really like this with all your clients?" She shook her head vigourously. I smiled and said "I don't think I believe you!" and she grinned back at me. I guess I will never know for sure! But this posting is about a girl from Thailand that I will refer to as Taz (its not her real working name).
I met Taz just over a year ago. I had no real idea what she would be like - I booked her from an agency recommendation. She was in a basement flat in Paddington - very romantic, lit by candles, beautifully furnished. She was a very attractive girl I thought - quite tall and curvy for an oriental girl and with a certain elegance. At first the date was a fairly typical escort experience and we didn't click at all, but as we got down to having sex something started to change. I could see in Taz's face that she was responding to this too. We "clicked" but it seemed more than that. It was more like making love. We kissed and cuddled afterwards but Taz seemed troubled - perhaps she hadn't been expecting such an intense encounter. I certainly hadn't. I felt compelled to see her again.
During one of our next meetings Taz asked me an odd question I thought for an escort "Do you think of me when you are not here?" she said. I was taken aback but answered truthfully "Yes... all the time". Of course I had to ask the same question in return and knew what she would say whatever the truth - but when she replied with the inevitable "Yes" she seemed troubled once again, as if the feelings she had were causing her some anguish.
Now here is one complication that occurs when you really "click" with an escort. If an escort appears to be saying "I'm falling in love with you" do you believe her or do you suspect that she might be leading you on to get more money out of you? Your heart wants to believe the first but your wise head can't help but suspect the latter. I guess the escort has similar concerns: "Does this guy like me as much as he says he does - or does he just want a freebie?". Its hard to get away from that trap.
I normally wear my wedding ring to escort dates but as it happened I was not wearing it on those first dates with Taz. On
one occassion she was asking me when she would see me again and I told her that I wasn't sure if seeing her was a good idea as I was worried I was getting too close to her - it was at this point I made her aware for the first time that I was married: "Oh" she said "Now I know. You married but you come see me only for sex". She seemed upset and I cursed myself for not having made my status clear when we had first met. I hadn't wanted to lead her on but perhaps I had. Taz was never quite the same with me after that. When I saw her again she acted more like we had a kind of holiday romance that was not very important and should not be so intense. She was still full of fun and passion but the intensity of emotion had largely evaporated.
It has been difficult to get hold of Taz recently as she is no longer working in London, but thanks to a superhuman effort by her agent who was playing cupid I saw Taz for the last time earlier this week. She will be going home for good in February. I booked a 2 hour appointment and within that 2 hours I wanted to take her out ten-pin bowling as a little goodbye treat because she told me she enjoyed it, but when I got to her place she told me she changed her mind because her friends in the area would see her and they all knew who Ryan was - the "special" client! So instead she dragged me to the bed and smothered me (and my clothing) in kisses. We had a wonderful, passionate time together culminating in a very romantic shared bath that I will always remember.
Taz always makes me laugh all the time. Her English is weak but we never seem to have problems communicating - we just laugh about the confusion "Do ek? Do ek? - oh you mean Durex!". She told me she still thinks of me when we are apart. After my time was up I prepared to leave, but Taz had other ideas - "No! I don't want you to go yet! We go bowling now! Wait - I get dressed and made-up". We went over to the bowling alley and sure enough her friends were there - they all knew who I was! So I spent another two hours in Taz's company kissing, cuddling, laughing, having fun, but now with no money involved - just like boyfriend/girlfriend enjoying each others company. It was the last time I would see Taz and I thought perhaps I should feel sad but I could never be sad with Taz around - she is just so full of an infectious joy of life. We swapped contact details but I don't suppose I will contact her once she has left or she will contact me - I will resume my life and she will resume hers. Taz sweetly walked me down to the underground station and we said goodbye the last time.
Taz is going back to restart her university studies, having made enough money to pay her fees and have a few luxuries. She will never return to London. I know this is best - if I had continued seeing her in the same way as I did this week then eventually I think I might have fallen for her completely with the inevitable consequences for my marriage. I have had an affair once before as described in my blog but it didn't really threaten to break up my marriage - but Taz could have been special enough to make me bite the bullet and leave if time and circumstances had been right. My heart is not broken but it is badly bruised, and I know I won't enjoy seeing escorts again until the memory of my time with Taz has faded, so I think its time to take a break. I will try my annual attempt to re-ignite my frigid loveless marriage - I can always hope, but probably I will find myself back on the scene by the Summer!
This is where my blog ends. I hope that you have enjoyed reading over the last few months. Perhaps some newbies to the scene will have learnt a few things on the way - maybe avoid some of the mistakes I have made. I have changed a few details to protect identities but it is as true as I can make it - truer than my escort reviews that sometimes paint a prettier picture than reality (you have to be careful about that if you think you may go back to see a girl again!). I enjoy reading the comments here and in the forums so you will see me posting replies from time to time I'm sure.
Ryan/RyanS/Ryan Stephenson or however you know me!
|
Added on: 01/12/06 10:22
Comments (4)
|
|
|
|
This is a break from my usual blog because I read this story on the BBC news web-site and it got my back up. The story was about the growth in the sex industry and the impact on the rise in prevalence of STIs. Excerpts are as follows:-
"The number of men paying women for sex has nearly doubled in a decade, UK research suggests.
Surveys of 11,000 British adults in 1990 and 2000 found the rate increased from one in 20 to nearly one in 10 men."
...or perhaps men are now slightly more likely to admit having paid.
"Rising divorce rates, sex tourism and increasing availability of commercial sex are blamed by the Sexually Transmitted Infections journal."
In the 1940 sex tourism was called WWII. So what? In the 1930s Britain had its worst ever outbreak of STIs - but people didn't like to divorce in those days - they were promiscuous but stayed married, so there is no reason to believe there is a connection. People have an inherent tendency to be promiscuous - its a requirement for spreading human genes as widely as possible - so there is no reason to believe that men have suddenly become more promiscuous in the last 10 years. Has there been an increase in the availability of commercial sex? More girls on the net sure, but are there more on the streets? On the whole I would guess it hasn't changed that much. The real cause of the rise in STIs is the existence of so many - 25 years ago you couldn't catch Herpes or HIV and chlamydia was not a concern. Suddenly these diseases are very much a fact of life and continue to become more prevalent.
"It warns men's lifestyles put them at risk of catching sex diseases, yet few are getting checked in clinics."
Well getting checked from time to time would be a good idea. I caught a verruca once - got to be careful with those shared baths.
"There are more men with money and more women looking for this type of work"
Sorry, are we talking about the difference between 1990 and 2000 or between 1890 and 2000? I hadn't realised that I had suddenly become much ricer in the last 10 years and had blown the lot on commercial sex...
"The findings come as experts call for a radical rethink of sexual health services to tackle rising rates of sex diseases."
They could make a good start by actually asking people a bit about their sex lives, since they obviously know precious little about it themselves.
"In the UK there has been a resurgence of sexually transmitted infections (STIs) such as chlamydia, gonorrhoea and HIV."
Almost entirely amongst youngsters that have just left school and are exploring sex for the first time often in not the best of circumstances. It might occur to scientists that the reasons that lead to so many teenage girls having babies might actually be the same as the reasons why there has been a rise in STIs amongst young people.
"More than 58,000 are now living with HIV in the UK and 104,155 new cases of chlamydia were reported in 2004, latest figures show."
And by far the greater number of them are gay. Only a tiny proportion are heterosexual and the vast majority of those are recent immigrants, particularly from Africa (sorry if that doesn't sound PC but it happens to be a statistical fact).
"The study authors, from Imperial and University College London, the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine and the National Centre for Social Research, do not believe the rise in paying for sex is the prime cause for this, but warned it could be a contributing factor."
Or not a factor at all. In Thailand the incidence of HIV in sex workers is actually significantly LOWER than it is in the general population. All the studies I have ever seen in more liberal countries have suggested that sex workers have a low incidence of STIs since they are well aware of the dangers and practice safe sex as a result.
"While women who sell sex in the UK have been targeted by campaigns to promote safer sex and uptake of sexual health checks, on the whole men who pay for sex have not, they said."
Well it takes two to tango. If you ensure that one side of the equation knows it needs to play safe you have largely done the best possible. Good to see the Dept of Health is spending our tax in a focussed way.
"And their work shows these men often have other risk factors for STIs including higher numbers of partners in general."
So what does this have to do with the commercial sex industry? Sounds like an attempt to use psuedo science to reinforce existing prejudices against the industry once again. Surely its better to have promiscuous sex in a planned safe way with a professional than a passionate unsafe encounter with a girl in the toilets of the local pub.
"More than a third of the men in the study had 10 or more sexual partners during the previous five years. Meeting new sexual partners while abroad, including in countries with higher rates of STIs than the UK also increased risk."
Randy buggers. Increased risk perhaps - but where is the evidence that proves it increases the incidence of disease? Depends on how careful you are.
"The men most likely to pay for sex were single, living in London and aged between 25 and 34."
So not in the age group with the highest incidence of STIs, that is the 18 - 25 year group.
"Lead author Dr Helen Ward said there were many reasons why more men were paying for sex."
Probably the high incidence of women like Dr Helen Ward with closed minds could be the biggest factor.
"There has been a more liberal attitude towards commercial sex and increasing commercialisation of sex. Lads magazines are bombarded with images."
Yeah right. The increase in sales of lads magazines like Nuts has been in direct proportion to the decline of magazines like Playboy and Penthouse. The old fashioned sex comedy movie that was so popular in the 70's has died a death. There was a time when the rise in such magazines was blamed on not being able to have real sex because it was too dangerous. How times have changed...
"She said many men were meeting new partners abroad, on stag nights for example, and the internet and cheaper international travel meant people had more opportunities to buy and sell sex."
Yeah blame those dirty foreigners. As if.
"It does not seem to be exceptional for groups of men to go away with each other for the weekend and have commercial sex.
Sure. And Amsterdam, Hamburg, Bangkok only became destinations for sex tourists in the last ten years. Wake up lady.
"My concern is that if people are going abroad where there might be less safe sex, they really ought to be thinking about the possible risks."
Yeah - you might go to Ibiza and catch a nasty does of the clap off a party girl from Solihull. Whats that got to do with the sex industry? Working girls in Holland don't practice safe sex? The goverment of Thailand hasn't heard of AIDs?
"Men who pay for sex should be the target of health promotion campaigns and screening initiatives,"
Well I'm all for a good screening.
"She said such programmes could be targeted at young male travellers and groups of men going on holiday or stag party trips, but that it might be better to target men in general, starting with school based sex education and mass media campaigns."
What, along the lines of "Don't pay for sex its bad for you!". Actually the statistics strongly suggest that if young men want to experiment with sex then the best way is with a professional that knows what she is doing and practices safe sex, rather than some teenage slapper thats shagged everyone in town. Not only that but countries with a more liberal attitude to commercial sex have far lower incidence of teenage pregnancy, less alcohol and drug related crime, less violence and fewer broken relationships (gives us guys something more positive to look forward to you see so we don't use our testosterone in more negative ways...)
"Peter Baker, of the Men's Health Forum, agreed it was important to target all young men because those most at risk were the least likely to use health services.
He added: 'Many people will be surprised by the relatively large numbers of men who are willing to pay for sex.
'But it's not so surprising in the context of social trends - women are increasingly sexualised in the media, sex phone lines are routinely advertised in the back of magazines and phone boxes...and divorce and separations are on the rise.'"
Right. So women have only become objects of male sexual desire in the last ten years and the "oldest profession" started just before that. How Britain came to have 60million people living here when there was no interest in sex before 1990 must be a mystery to us all. Anybody that knows anything about British history will know we have been randy buggers since year dot. The only thing that changes from generation to generation is whether its socially acceptable to talk about it or not.
And you thought the religious right had closed minds?!
|
Added on: 12/01/05 04:52
Comments (3)
|
|
|
|
So I had finally made up my mind not to have sex with this teenage escort from Poland. I had already paid her the money of course. She made to put on the rubber but I had lost my erection and was not interested. I told her to forget it. She shrugged.
"Life is hard in Poland" I said.
"Yes" she replied. She looked a little upset for a moment. We rolled back onto the bed. The girl lay face down snoozing. She had a breathtakingly beautiful face, with huge blue eyes and full lips like Natassja Kinski. She asked me if I wanted a massage, obviously keen to fill up the time. "No" I said "I will give you a massage!". She was surprised but I liked the idea of doing something nice for her. I straddled her backside and started a soft massage from the base of her spine along her shoulders to her arms. As I did so I could clearly see a large red triangular scar on her back close to her spine, more like a burn than a cut. It wasn't the kind of place where you could burn yourself - I got the feeling someone had perhaps deliberately burnt her on her back. Perhaps she had been the victim of some serious abuse in the past but the scar was quite old and there was nothing I could do for her now except give her a few minutes of quiet pleasure and relaxation. She enjoyed the massage and responded well to it, but it was time for me to go and continue the journey to my customer. She sat up and watched me dress. She had relaxed from the massage and seemed upset now that I was going. I warmed to her as she became friendlier and we gave each other a hug before I left.
I was glad that I didn't have sex with this girl. I would have felt dirty afterwards and giving her a massage was probably the best solution - I left feeling quite happy, even though I had blown 150 which could have been better spent elsewhere. I was even tempted to go and visit her again and take the poor girl out for an evening - I think she would really have enjoyed that and I would have liked to make her happy for a few hours, but she didn't stay in London for more than a few months after I saw her.
I was worried that the girl seemed to have been the victim of abuse in her past and that she clearly didn't want to work as an escort. Perhaps she was just desperate for the money so did it despite hating it. But I was concerned that there were some false reviews written about her too - her english wasn't good enough to have written them herself. I wondered if the agency was traffiking girls from Eastern Europe but that seemed unlikely as there were some girls on the site that I knew to be genuine escorts. It didn't occur to me until later when I read similar dubious reviews that perhaps there was a third party involved - forcing girls to work for them but using a legitimate agency to do the promotion. If I had realised that at the time I would have given an anonymous call to the police to let them check the girl out, just in case.
I have used London agencies and visited several girls from overseas without problems. In fact all three girls I would rate most highly have come from overseas, two via agencies. But unfortunately it is a fact of life when you are a punter that a bad experience is just waiting around the corner - it is best to find a good escort that you really click with and visit her again and again. If you visit an escort that isn't prepared to deliver the service as you expected it is best to just chalk it up to experience - don't get pissed off, just make the best of the situation (which may mean just leaving) and take extra special care to choose a top girl next time.
|
Added on: 11/22/05 16:29
Comments (0)
|
|
|
|
After dabbling in PSE I decided to give up on the more extreme forms of adult entertainment. Certainly most of the complaints by fellow punters are aimed at PSE providers so I guess I was right to do so. I decided to say "stuff it" to all the advice and regularly went back to my Brazilian favourite regardless of how vulnerable it might make me, but then she decided to prepare for retirement and began a course at university. After a prolonged period of sexual frustration I got the opportunity to go into London early in the morning on the way to a customer and as my Brazilian friend was not available I had to book someone else. It is difficult to find escorts prepared to work before 11am in London but I booked another Brazilian girl through an agency. Sadly on the morning this girl fell victim to excessive nightclubbing and couldn't make the appointment (so the agency claimed) and they suggested someone else. That someone else I remembered from the internet as being a pretty young Polish girl with excellent reviews so I agreed.
The girls flat was right behind Harrods. Strange place for a working girls residence - it made me smile to go past the crowd outside the Harrods entrance as I went off for my date. The building was very nice. I stood outside the flat door once again with that wonderful feeling of nervous excitement and anticipation. A girl opened the door - very pretty but very young. She was advertised as being 18 and surprisingly she clearly was 18, not 25% older as is usually the case. That is too young for me so I was already a bit uncomfortable.
The girl was very shy. She showed me through the flat. It was a strange place - decorated in a kind of Baroque style with little plaster cherubs on pedestals.
The girl didn't speak much English so after handing over the "gift" we got right down to kissing. The reviews said she kissed with tongues but that definitely wasn't the case. I became even more uncomfortable. I started to wonder if this was really a good idea and what I should do about it.
After some little pecks on the lips she started to undress me and then we climbed on the bed. I was erect at this point and started to explore her body. She wasn't really my type - her skin was white like porcelain and her body showed she had not grown up with a good diet, exercise or fresh air. She was slender but kind of shapeless. As I explored parts of her body they would become aroused. But every time a part of her body became aroused she would slip her hand in the way to stop me kissing or stroking it - nipples, clit, G-spot all became out of bounds as soon as she felt that she was getting aroused. I couldn't understand that. I rolled away from her.
"You have problem?" she said.
"No. I think you have a problem. I think you really don't like what we are doing" I said.
"No. YOU have problem!" she said, with mild irritation in her voice.
I was no longer erect. Too many negative thoughts were on my mind. I was starting to form the opinion that what I was doing with this girl was wrong. Very wrong.
The girl set about giving me a BBBJ. I started to become hard and she turned to get a condom. She kind of crouched at the edge of the bed and fumbled with her fingers at the packet. Something about the way she did this made it clear to me how inexperienced she was. She really didn't know what she was doing. I got a strong feeling she wasn't very experienced in having sex, let alone in commercial sex. She was really just a child. I realised I couldn't have sex with her.
Next installment: A Sad, Bad Experience continued
|
Added on: 11/17/05 16:48
Comments (0)
|
|
|
|
Well time for the concluding episode of my descent into debauchery. Quite why I continued with this appointment rather than simply running from the room screaming is difficult to say. I think that probably it was because my interest in "pornstar experience" was more derived from a kind of scientific detachment rather than pure unbridled lust. Having seen various acts performed for the cameras for adult movies with the lady in question smiling sweetly throughout I wondered in each case "Whats that like really?" and was determined to find out. So the fact that I was in the process of finding out just how awful it could be was not in itself a deterrent from continuing with the appointment - it was all part of the experiment. This blog posting may contain some graphic depictions of an adult nature, so if you are likely to be offended do not click on the "Read more" button!
Having discovered that I was finding it difficult to maintain an erection the escort stopped for a moment to consider what steps to take. I settled back to watch the porn movie on the TV which was far more entertaining than the live action in the room. The room itself was a depressing, dingy place - just a bedroom and a bathroom. It reminded me of the early scenes in the film "Personal Services". Fortunately there was no transvestite maid, however. The escort decided I needed to "relax" and started to give me a massage. This wasn't so much a deep muscle massage as a deep cartilage massage. As she set about dislocating each of my joints in turn she trapped a nerve in my lower spine. Ok this is not funny now, right? This deranged maniac has now paralysed my right leg. I manage to flip over onto my back but my leg is in excruciating pain and has gone into spasm so that it is completely stiff, my foot and toes pointing towards the door. It is, in fact, the stiffest part of my body! I am in big trouble and wonder just how embarrassing it is going to be to have the local paramedics rescue me from an escorts flat in Earls Court, naked and with a paralysed right leg. Those posters back at the local underground station may warn you about HIV but they don't warn you about unexpected paralysis! I am reminded of the Steven King film "Misery" - here I am, the character played by James Caan, unable to escape from the bedroom of a psychopathic old lady that is determined to prevent me from writing a negative review of her!
Fortunately flipping onto my back was all that was required to release the trapped nerve and no long term damage has been done. After a few minutes I can move my leg and the pain subsides. Relieved, I start to giggle uncontrollably at the ludicrous situation. I am now determined to get to the end of the appointment. It is time to invoke that British Bulldog spirit. This is like a kind of Punter "extreme sport". What could go wrong next?
The escort decides that perhaps a bit of role play is in order. She asks me if I would like her to wear an outfit. Clearly there is a huge opportunity for uncontrolled laughter here so I stick with the "Carry On" movie theme and ask her to dress up as a nurse, "Carry on doctor" style. She fishes a tawdry yellowing PVC nurses outfit from the wardrobe and squeezes her enormous boobs into it. Surprisingly the sight of her jumbo-sized cleavage spilling out from a PVC uniform she looks to have inherited from her gran is quite erotic and we try a bit of nurse/patient role play (appropriate considering my recent back injury), even her regular inane repetition of "Oh you naughty boy" like a dolly with an electronic speech circuit doesn't seem out of place. I have always felt I would have trouble maintaining a straight face during role-play at the best of times but in fact not only do I manage not to fall about laughing I actually get an erection. Delighted she immediately drops the nurse routine, grabs my willy and starts a hand-job so ferocious it leaves it looking like a Pepperami stick. Realising I am starting to go soft again she takes it in her mouth and begins to deep-throat me. Given that I am somewhat longer than average this is something of a medical feat - it actually requires her to control the contents of her stomach magnificently as she begins to gag! The sound of her desparately trying to force back her lunch whilst sucking on my willy was never likely to keep me aroused. I begin to suspect that this process has been employed to ensure that my prime objective of discovering what anal sex is like will never be achieved but its difficult to tell for sure as the lady is quite loopy and I suspect she may be on amphetamines. I cannot entirely blame the lady for baulking at the idea of having my oversized love truncheon shoved up her back passage the wrong way, but if that was the case then surely it would have been better to have said something like "You're too big" somewhere near the beginning of the appointment? But then again if honesty had been the best policy she would have admitted she was 55 not 30 years old, that she had a sponge up her vag, that her massage was likely to end in hospitalisation and she couldn't give oral without throwing up. Cearly such an approach was unlikely to bring her much custom.
Nevertheless I am determined to try anal almost, it must be said, out of spite. I revert to a more conventional position first and after some snogging things are looking up. I am semi-erect. I suggest anal and the lady adopts the doggy position. Simply enormous quantities of lube are applied to both ends of the proposed conection sufficient to prompt an oil crisis and I attempt to penetrate. It isn't going to work. It is just like trying to squeeze a limp and extremely greasy jumbo sausage through a very small key hole. I briefly consider the option of making a splint to ensure sufficient rigidity and at least get to the point where I can tick the box and say "Yeah, anal - tried it but didn't like it" but obviously that isn't a viable option - no lolly sticks to hand.
I have failed to achieve my objective, but at least the appointment and all its attendant horrors are finally over. To her credit the old dear has given me an extra half-hour in her company - one of the few times when clock-watching would have been welcomed! I leave the lady's flat with the knd of joy that comes with relief - like the smile you have on your face when you leave the dentists. The experience was a bit like a kind of psychological sado-masochism. But the little old lady, God bless her, has one parting gift for me. It seems she has sold my email address to porn spammers and my mobile phone number to text message con-men. Both phone and private email have to be replaced. Lovely.
There are several lessons to be learn't from this experience:-
A good glamour photographer can work wonders with a bit of make-up, a soft-focus lens and some image processing software. Even on video clips!
A bad escort may be a prolific writer - of her own reviews! It can take a while before the review sites ban her completely.
Running away screaming is sometimes the best option! Even if you have left the money with her!
But perhaps most importantly of all:-
Fantasies in the deepest, darkest corners of your imagination (particularly the ones put there by pornstars) are best left there. Try turning them into reality at your peril.
Well after that experience I was only too happy to say stuff it to the advice of seasoned punters and go straight back to my Brazilian favourite for some healthy GFE. So what if she could wrap me around her little finger if she wanted? But I don't want to bore you with repetitive stories of the good times - I think you will learn more from my mistakes. So the next installment will be:-
A Bad, Sad Experience.
Have a great weekend everyone!
|
Added on: 11/04/05 11:09
Comments (0)
|
|
|
|
I'm a bit pissed right now so this could turn out to be more entertaining than usual (for me at least).
After shagging my Brazilian favourite and practically falling head over heels for her like some love-struck teenager (God she's good) I decided the best thing to do was to take the advice of seasoned punters and shag someone else instead. You see its not a good idea to fall for an escort especially when you are married - could turn out to be an expensive mistake and then some. So I went back to plan B: try out all the perverse sexual fantasies you have ever had in one go, porn-star style. As luck would have it (so I thought) the right lady for just such a venture was based in Earls Court. So I sneaked down to the car as it sat down in the garage and furtively made a call to book an appointment.
Earls Court, it must be said, is a rather depressing place in the middle of winter when there is nothing going on at Olympia. As you leave the underground station there are two large posters warning of the dangers of HIV as if Tony Blair himself were there pointing his finger and saying "I know what you are up to you dirty bugger, and if you can't be good for Gods sake be careful!".
The lady, being organisationally challenged, was not ready for my appearance so kept me waiting in the cold for 30 mins or so. After staggering around in the icy cold trying to avoid the attention of passing policemen and being only briefly amused by an upper middle class lady giving her wayward teenage son a good ticking off I got a call telling me that my pornstar experience (PSE) was ready.
I turned up at her apartment and she opened the door. A lady old enough to be one of my mothers best friends appeared. The lady was as attractive to me as my mums pet mongrel. She had obviously been trained at the Hattie Jaques school of erotic dance. She took firm hold of her enormous boobs and pummelled them as if considering whether they were sufficiently ripe for a prize melon contest. "What do you think of my boobs?" she said in a way that indicated that she really believed them to be prize melons "Well they are very big. Did it take a long time to grow them?" I said. she seemed less than amused by my humour as if she had realised that piss-taking was the only way I was going to enjoy the rest of the next hour. Certainly I had come to that conclusion. Enjoyable sex was out of the question - clearly I would have a better time working out how to shag my own backside.
We got down to what is commonly described is sex but what is best described as a game of "hide the policemans truncheon". I decided to hide it as quickly as possible whilst the lady proceeded to describe me as a "Naughty Boy" over and over in an inane manner so that she was rapidly driving me nuts. After a quick shafting I thought that the best finale would be to shoot my weeks worth of semen over her body and face as per the usual porn movie "champagne shot". I took aim, fired - and a congealed mass of sperm oozed out of my penis and settled into her belly button where it sat like so much unwanted semolina pudding (but without the raspberry jam on top). It wasn't quite what I had anticipated and after what had amounted to a kind of watered down "lust" for want of a better descriuption it was a bit of an anti-climax. There is something distinctly clinical and unpleasant about cleaning up your own spunk with wet-wipes that really puts PSE in perspective.
We had a good 45 minutes to go but I didn't know if I could face it. We got down to some snogging (I kept my eyes tightly shut) and I fumbled about with my fingers in her pussy. Weird. There was something in there. Something spongy and unnatural. Something I had never felt before inside a womans pussy. Something grotesque and frightening. Was it some kind of cancerous growth? No - nothing so sinister. It was a vaginal sponge soaked in spermicide. She had briefly mentioned it on the way to the bathroom but I hadn't paid much attention as the continuous repetition of "Oh you naughty boy!" had forced me to switch off from listening.
I decided to withdraw my fingers from her pussy and shove them up her backside instead. Strangely it offered no resistance. Meanwhile she licked my bum-hole. Now rimming strikes me as a very good way to get Hepatitis so I would have preferred it if I had known she had included this in her menu so I could go elsewhere - but it was too late now! I wanted (if that's the right word) to try anal - purely for scientific reasons but by now I was getting so revolted I couldn't get an erection.
Next installment: How to lay laminate flooring. No sorry. it should be "A bizarre pornstar experience continued". Fuck it I'm pissed.
|
Added on: 11/01/05 19:36
Comments (12)
|
|
|
|
As the girl let her dressing-gown drop slowly and sexily to the floor she revealed the most fantastic body I have ever seen on a woman. It was as if she had been carefully sculpted to match the ultimate male fantasy of what a womans body should look like, the product of two visits a week to the gym with a personal trainer and her kick-boxing hobby. Naturally her Brazilian background had provided her with gorgeous coffee-coloured skin, but also she was completely waxed from the neck down and oiled in cocoa-butter. She was wearing a white lingerie set that was a perfect complement to her dark skin. It occurred to me that the shapeless dressing-gown and the shuffling about in slippers had all been part of a cunning plan to make that moment when I first saw her naked that bit more surprising and exciting.
I reached out to hold her by the shoulders. It was a strange sensation as I had never been with a woman that was so muscular. At first the alien sensation put me off, but then it clicked with me that she would be strong enough for some very athletic sex indeed!
We climbed on the bed and started to have sex. Her vagina was dry at first but soon lubricated naturally. Nevertheless she decided that more lubrication was required (that always makes me smile, but I guess London girls need to take good care of their "assets") - so with the combination of natural lubrication and synthetic it was a bit like screwing a can of Castrol GTX, but at least it meant sex would be prolonged! Sex was good with French-kissing with tongues but the girl wasn't having sex with me as such - I caught her staring abstractly at the ceiling. To be honest I didn't care that much - she looked so good I couldn't help but be happy, and she still had another trick up her sleeve. Suddenly I felt her vagina muscles grip my cock tightly and deliberately. Clearly she not only had strong vagina muscles but had complete control over them too. "That's a clever trick" I said - she just grinned back at me with a glint in her eye as she knew the effect she was having. She later told me that she deliberately exercised her vagina muscles as part of her regular work-out! I couldn't hold on much longer and came shortly after.
We chatted for a while. She told me she had a degree and ended up in Britain due to a relationship with a British guy that didn't work out. She came from a wealthy background in Brazil but found that her income in the UK could not match her upper middle class aspirations so had decided to work as an escort both to make more money - and to get laid. I was getting to like her. She was intelligent, feminine, cute and unbelievably sexy. She had the body of a Penthouse pet but without the aid of soft-focus lenses, body make-up and post-image processing. From the neck up she was attractive but not "out-of-my league" - we would have made a nice looking couple if you saw us out together. I think that was where the problem was for me - she was exactly the kind of girl I would have flirted with in "regular" life - attractive but not too attractive, intelligent, amusing, albeit with the kind of figure I could not normally aspire to in a partner!
We had sex the second time - we both knew it would last a long while so we tried various different positions. I was getting completely lost in my desire for her. I spent a long time in 69 giving her beatiful waxed pussy a lot of attention. Sex became extremely passionate and physical. We finished in missionary, but this time it was very different from the first. This time her body was yielding and she drew me into her. We were making love and I had her full attention. We were, as the saying goes "all over each other like a rash". As I sensed her approaching her orgasm I worked on raising my own level of stimulation and we orgasmed simultaneously. Afterwards I remained inside her for ten minutes or so. She gazed into my eyes and we kissed each other gently, Gloria Estefan singing love songs in the background. It was a very intense and romantic experience, quite unlike any experience I had before with an escort. I was in desperate danger of falling head-over heels in love with her but she knew this: "Remember, its just business..." she whispered as she gazed back at me. "Thank God" I thought "At least someone is in control of the situation!"
If you want the ultimate in GFE here is my advice - find someone that you find attractive but who is not "out of your league". Someone that you might date in real life. It is very tempting to book the most attractive woman you can find on the escort web-sites but these bookings don't work out so well in my experience - you never "click" with the girl in question. In the world of punting there is someone for everyone so eventually you will find someone that pushes all the right buttons for you - just as you do for her - but beware the drawback of getting too involved!
I visited this girl several times, but she retired recently. She emailed me to let me know she was giving it up to start her own business, having made a lot of money over the years. I visited her one last time but got to stick around for a couple of hours to ask her a few things. She told me that she rarely saw new clients - most of her clients were regulars that came back again and again. Some were booking her once a week for the whole evening, others would come back once a quarter. All her clients were businessmen types. She preferred married men to singles because they "gave her less trouble" i.e. were not hounding her for a romantic involvement. She told me that every time she had a visitor she fantasised that it was her real boyfriend. She didn't offer every client quite the same service - she had her favourites and it tended to be the guys she liked that became regulars. She took escorting very seriously and worked very hard to perfect the experience for her valued clients. She didn't have a boyfriend - she told me: "Sometimes I close my eyes and all I can see are penises!" - she needed to take a break from work-sex before getting involved.
This had been a fantastic GFE experience but there were obvious drawbacks. This girl may have been fully in control of her feelings but I certainly wasn't! In fact I still can't quite get her out of my head! If she sent me an email telling me she was lonely and fancied going out to dinner with me I would be right there. The advice from seasoned punters in these circumstances is to get control of yourself by immediately finding another escort - so I decided to take that advice and try something completely different!
Next installment: A bizarre pornstar experience.
|
Added on: 10/28/05 06:06
Comments (0)
|
|
|
|
After the duo date I had a couple of escort experiences that were a bit so-so. Basically the problem was that I wasn't meeting women that I found attractive, apart from the first escort I met who didn't quite match up with my expectations of service (i.e. no full-on French kissing). Having sex with women that were older than me, or less fit, or not particularly attractive was an eye-opener in as much as I was enjoying the sex with women I would not normally look twice at, but at the same time it was leaving me with a bitter after-taste. There is something exciting about having sex with a complete stranger chosen in effect at random but at the same time it seemed a little unfulfilling. Punters often wonder what it must be like for an escort to have sex with a man they are not attracted to, but often us punters find ourselves in that very same position - and we are the ones paying for it! I decided to choose someone more carefully this time based on looks as well as service.
It is difficult to find attractive women in the South-East outside of London and when you do they normally charge a great deal. The London market sucks up the best girls so if you want to book an attractive escort the great metropolis is the place to go. An advantage is that most of the girls working in London have web-sites where their face is shown. At about this time there was an escort web-site that was showing video-clips of London escorts in their home environment (no longer operating). This had a few clips of girls that really excelled on video and one of these was a Brazilian girl. I had seen her advertising before - she had been on the London scene for some years - but hadn't thought that much of her, but on video she really shone.
The lady in question had a real glint in her eye with a kittenish, cheeky smile but at the same time she could turn on a smouldering sultry look when she needed to as she strode purposefully towards the camera. "Oh God," I thought "She is dangerously sexy". So, given that the girl had several excellent reviews and a great video I made a booking. The booking was by email and she surprised me by giving me her address details right away. I asked her if she thought this was wise but she told me she knew how to tell good from bad clients with absolute accuracy so never had any problems. I liked the way she communicated by email - she was friendly and jokey. There was no need for me to phone to confirm - she seemed to know with certainty I would be there.
The lady was based in Bayswater so I knew I was going upmarket in terms of location at least! Unfortunately there was also an upmarket price tage of 200 for the hour - but since she charged only 100 for the second hour it made a lot of sense to make a 2 hour booking.
Once again I booked the afternoon as vacation but told my wife I was visiting a customer. I drove into London and parked in Hammersmith (Hammersmith is just outside the congestion charging zone and car-parking is only 80p per hour), then took the tube to Bayswater. It easy to get to from Hammersmith by tube but you have to change trains at Earls Court, fighting your way through hordes of East European escorts!
The location in Bayswater was nice. Lots of huge Edwardian houses that have been split down into flats. I had to struggle up a few flights of stairs with my cases (I didn't dare to leave them in the car) to the flat. Once again I found myself outside a girls flat with nervous anticipation of what may be behind the door, but this time it was more excitement than fear. This girl had been working the London scene for some time and flats in this part of Bayswater were not cheap - clearly she had some very happy clients out there and I was expecting to soon be one of them! I heard a girls lisping Spanish voice and the door was unbolted and opened.
A lady popped her head around the door. It was undoubtedly the same girl as from the video but not as devastatingly attractive. She invited me in and sat me on the sofa then shuffled about in slippers and a shapeless multi-coloured dressing gown. She looked like she hadn't bothered much about her appearance and had a "here we go again" attitude about her. She sat on the sofa and we chatted for while. Quite a long while actually. It occurred to me that an appointment twice as long as usual meant twice as much chat too. The flat was very nice and though small was upmarket and definitely the best I had visited. The girl was attractive, too, although not as stunning as I had imagined from the video - she had cute cheeks I justed wanted to squeeze (bet she would have freaked if I had). She had claimed to be 28 but admitted to being 38, although she did look closer to the younger age. I considered she had a rather podgy body under the shapeless dressing-gown and felt dissappointed and perhaps a bit cheated. She had the rather languid, relaxed air of someone that had come from a wealthy background. I couldn't make up my mind whether her Hispanic lisp made her sound cute or retarded.
Eventually we made our way upstairs to the rather untidy gallery bedroom, which had a ridiculously low ceiling. We stretched a clean sheet over the bed together then the girl slipped on some see-through heels. She adopted a more sultry look and strode over to me purposefully letting her dressing-gown slip gently to the floor, and what I saw left my jaw on the floor and my eyes popping out of my head on stalks.
Next installment: A Fantastic experience continued
|
Added on: 10/27/05 08:28
Comments (3)
|
|
|
|
The three of us got up to the back bedroom. It was a small double room just big enough to take a queen size double bed, a dresser and a wardrobe. We undressed and I hung up my suit over the door of the wardrobe. As I did so it occurred to me that this might turn out to be a very sordid experience but I turned around and saw the girls naked either side of the bed with big smiles looking very inviting and changed my mind. "Come on" they said "We want to spoil you!". I took that to mean there wouldn't be any "pretending to be lesbians" nonsense which suited me fine. I jumped onto the bed, which was kind of squishy, and we got down to action.
The Italian looking girl was putting on a kind of Barbera Windsor in a Carry-on movie act: "Oooh haven't you got a big wwwillleeee! tee hee hee hee". She asked me how I wanted to start and I suggested a kiss and cuddle. We got down to a serious snogging session - not so much "full-on" but more a DIY tonsilectomy. She had a prehensile tongue like a red-hot cobra unleashed within my mouth. It was fantastic! Would have paid her 120 for an hour of that snogging alone! Best snog I have ever had in my life!
The blonde was giving me oral while this was going on then the dark one joined in with this - really more intense sensations than any one person has a right to expect in their lifetime! The blonde then swapped to mount me cow-girl and I had to stop her as she had neglected to use a condom - a situation corrected by the dark haired girl using her mouth to place one over me. I continued having sex with the blonde girl while the dark girl got up to something between my legs. I felt a soreness at my anus followed by strange feelings of sexual pleasure that came on in waves that led to an uncontrollable urge to orgasm - I had experienced my first prostate massage courtesy of the dark haired girl shoving a finger up my bum whilst I was simultaneously fucking the blonde.
The dark haired girl didn't let me rest after this. She immediately resorted to oral to keep me erect and we carried straight on. But I needed a slight break so I got the girls to lie either side of me while I played with them.
The blonde girl turned out to have a fantastic "Page 3 girl" figure under her jumper but the dark girl, whilst very out of shape due to having no control of her abdomen at all, was much prettier and very full-on. She was getting very flushed and obviously enjoying herself, whereas the blonde was putting on an American porn-star act and was probably thinking about what to make for her daughter's dinner. Towards the end I was spending most of my time with the dark haired girl to the point that the blonde girl just got up and made herself a cup of tea.
Finished up the session and we all walked down to the lounge. The girls had forgotten to ask me for the money but I remembered and gave them their envelopes. Walking outside the street scene was as dismal as ever but at least I wasn't! A duo date is a fantastic experience - a rare case of the reality being better than the fantasy. The girls could have been in better shape and had better looks with the action taking place in a better location - but never judge a book by its cover!
The only real disadvantage of a duo date is that you don't get the best value for money! Each girl doesn't have to work quite as hard as she would if she was keeping you entertained for the whole hour by herself. Also, you are likely to find one girl more attractive than the other which means you end up spending more of your time with that girl which makes a mockery of the whole idea.
A duo date requires the girls to do a bit of acting since it isn't a usual way for a woman to have sex and the girls have to work together or it would end up a bit of a disorganised shambles. Choosing girls that work well together as a duo is therefore important if you want this kind of experience to work - too much obvious acting tends to irritate. Check the review sites. These two girls treated it all as a bit of a giggle which made it all the more enjoyable.
Although it was a fantastic experience I have never repeated it. It kinda got the duo date fantasy out of my system. The temptation to have another duo date is always there but it can't quite win over a two hour date with a really great girl or two dates with fantastic girls. But it is something any red-blooded man should try at least once - save it for a special birthday!
I got to like the blonde girl the more I talked to her. There was a kind of honesty about her that appealed to me. I could understand why she was escorting and she was easy to relate to. Strangely, I decided to see her again rather than the dark girl even though the dark girl had given me a better time - but I couldn't get in touch with her again so I never did.
I had a couple of escort dates after this one but they were nothing special so it was time to review my approach to punting...
Next Installment: A Fantastic Experience.
|
Added on: 10/20/05 09:44
Comments (1)
|
|
|
|
I pushed the door open and walked through to be met by the Italian-looking girl who showed me into the living room. The living room looked like a poorly kept museum piece. It was furnished in that walnut-veneer furniture that was popular in the forties, but badly marked and knocked about with coffee mug stains on the tops of the cabinets. Each piece of furniture had a lacy doiley on top and several small items of the same period - an old alarm clock, an old radio, that kind of thing. It reminded me of my grandmother's house but left uncared for for several decades, the paint peeling off, the furniture battered and bruised. It was dismal, and the only bright spot in the room was a large picture of a girl of primary school age in her school uniform, beaming out with a huge smile .
The incall had to be arranged for times between 10am and 2pm and now it was obvious why. Mum had to get the kid off to school before fucking middle-aged business men in the back bedroom to make enough money to bring her up, dad being either absent or not sufficiently responsible to help out. 120 per hour for fucking middle-aged businessmen must seem pretty attractive compared to spending three days on the tills at ASDA for the same money and there was no need to arrange child-care either. It reminded me of the part played by Cathy Tyson in the TV series "Band of Gold".
"Mum" turned out to be a tall slim bottle-blonde with fair-skin. She had made little effort with her appearance being dressed in a jumper pulled haphazardly over a checked shirt with old, worn jeans. She was attractive, but carried the after-effects of years of poor nutrition and lack of exercise. She was also a smoker, and whilst she had a nice open smile it was somewhat spoiled by her yellowed teeth. She was about 5'9" and slightly taller than me, and although slim was quite big-boned - I was going to have my hands full with these two girls!
By contrast the Italian-looking girl was apparently lower-middle class. She was nervous, unable to sit still in her chair and kept stroking her own knees. That was kind of cute and helped to relax me. There was someone else in the house too - someone that quietly tried to sneak up the stairs out of the way. They were light on their feet - perhaps another girl or maybe the owner of this musuem piece house (maybe "Mum" had Grandma to look after too).
The three of us went upstairs together and I followed the girls into the back bedroom.
Next Installment: A Duo Date continued, again!
|
Added on: 10/19/05 05:20
Comments (0)
|
|
|
|
After my first experience with an escort it was clear to me that everything the world of "punting" had to offer was now open to me. I could go back to the Indian girl for some guaranteed fun but I worried that if my sex life with my wife went back to normal perhaps I wouldn't be able to break away from the punting scene and would continue to want to do a little "exploring". I felt it might be better to use punting as a way of living out my fantasies and with my birthday approaching and my top fantasy being sex with two girls at the same time that struck me as a good move.
As luck would have it two girls with seemingly fantastic figures and good reviews were advertising an hour long duo date for 240. I made a booking a week in advance but unfortunately when I confirmed on the day they had obviously forgotten it completely and I had to re-book for the following week. We swapped a few emails that were chatty and fun and I felt relaxed about the visit.
I had booked the afternoon as a half-day off work but told my wife I was working and visiting a customer in the area where the date was to take place. As a result I drove towards the venue for the duo date dressed to kill in suit and overcoat. I pulled up at a motorway services to check myself out, comb my hair and freshen my breath (no cologne this time as I had to go back to her indoors after and she would be suspicious as I don't normally wear cologne), and get my maps ready, then had a severe attack of the nerves. What on earth was I doing planning to have sex with two women at the same time? How would I cope? I was a newbie to punting and I had thrown myself into the sexual deep-end. I steeled myself to the prospect and continued on my journey.
I got hopelessly lost on the way to the venue. Fortunately one of the girls had to drive to the venue herself along the same route so after giving her a call she was able to drive past me in her silver Renault Megane and I was able to follow her. She looked very attractive in her car - pretty, Italianate face with masses of black hair.
We drove up to the house where the action was to take place. It was in a council estate on the edge of a town that was the worse the wear for long-term high unemployment, steeped in that kind of dull grey depression that sink estates reflect from their occupants. Each house seemed to have the obligatory car-wreck on one side, usually chocked up with its wheels removed. Once again I felt over-dressed. The girl got out of her car in front of me and walked towards the house. She was a big girl and had obviously had a baby - a big baby I would say, maybe 13lbs. Her belly, now devoid of the usual abdominal muscle, had taken on a life of its own, and was left unfettered thanks to a shortie top and hipster jeans. Normally I would have turned away at this point, revolted by the jelly-like blobby mass above her hips, but hell, I wasn't planning on making her a trophy bride and she was pretty enough from the neck up. What worried me more was getting to grips with a woman several stone heavier than me - especially as there was another girl waiting inside the house, of proportions unknown!
The girl had gone through the door obviously to have a quiet chat with her friend, leaving it to shut-to behind her. The door was missing most of its paint and had been the victim of a violent attack at some point, looking as battered and bruised as a door can. For a moment I wondered if I really wanted to go through that door, to examine the depressing scene of inner city poverty at close quarters.
Next installment: A duo date continued.
|
Added on: 10/18/05 06:46
Comments (1)
|
|
|
|
I tried to think of the questions that a first time punter might have before his first date and answer them below, based on my first time experiences:
Was the sex like in porn movies?
No. This was "Girlfriend Experience" so it was like the sex you would get
with a girlfriend (but without French kissing).
Did you feel "dirty" after having sex this way?
I thought I might feel this way but I didn't. It didn't seem much
different from having sex normally. I liked the girl and was attracted to
her, which helped. It made me feel like a man again, which is what I need to feel happy about life.
Was it like "making love"?
No. I don't think the girl was attracted to me at all - I really don't think I was her type. She seemed to enjoy having sex with me but she kept her eyes tightly shut throughout and I had the feeling she was imagining being with someone else. It was a kind of half-way point between masturbation and "making love", a kind of mutual masturbation "I'll stroke yours if you'll stroke mine....". That may make it sound clinical but it wasn't - she was a human being with her own mind. If you do something nice to someone and they smile that is a nice feeling anyway - you don't need to be "intimate". Sometimes it can be more like making love but it depends on how compatible you are with the lady you are meeting.
Is it always like this?
No, every appointment is very different, but this is pretty much a "standard" escort experience in my opinion. Sometimes you click with the girl and then it is just fantastic (but that can cause other problems), and sometimes it is just awful. I'm not intending to describe the "standard" experiences again in my blog but they make up about 80% of the experiences I have had with a new escort (but a smaller proportion of the total since I tend to re-visit when the experience is "fantastic"!)
Are the girls always nice and friendly like this?
All the girls I have visited have always been nice and friendly, even when
the experience itself was awful. Where a girl has been unfriendly it has been at first contact, so don't let that put you off! I once had a girl fly into a rage because I asked her in my email if it was possible for her to wear a latex dress she was shown wearing on her web-site (took 45 minutes to put on apparently, but I didn't know that) - I got a long email back telling me in detail how selfish I was! Needless to say I don't visit girls that have an "attitude"!
Did you feel like you were abusing the girl by having sex with her?
No. She was obviously quite comfortable with what she was doing. In fact the
way she used me like a human dildo made me feel a bit "abused"! I like to try and put a smile on the girl's face by taking care to press the right buttons - if she is aroused by that you have no reason to feel bad about what you are doing to her.
Was the girls orgasm real?
Seemed genuine to me. Most of the escorts I have visited at least get
aroused during sex (its more difficult to fake that - although the girl in
question could be dreaming of George Clooney rather than getting aroused by
you!). I don't worry too much if the orgasm is real as you can never know
for sure (and I'm paying so if the girl doesn't cum its nothing for me to worry about, as long as the girl is confortable about what she is doing) - the signs of arousal are more likely to be genuine so if you have got the girl aroused you are probably pressing the right buttons in the right way!
Was it good value?
Well it was 120 for the hour. That corresponds to 60 hours at the cinema,
so on that basis not very good value! But of course you can't make that sort
of comparison. I need to have sex and this is the only way I can get it
without having an affair and hurting a lot of people. I don't think 150-200/hr is an unreasonable price to pay if the service is good - good escorts have a rare talent. Some escorts are single mums raising kids on their own by taking a few incalls while the kids are at school - they really need the cash.
Did you look down your nose at the girl because she was an escort?
She was a really nice girl so there was no way I could look down my nose at
her - would've happily taken her home to meet my mum! Anyway escorts are
selling sex and clients are buying, so we are as "bad" as each other.
Don't you feel a bit ashamed that you were paying for sex?
I never feel like I am paying for sex as such. Its pretty clear to me that I can get sex for free - its just that it comes with strings attached. What I am paying for is sex with no strings attached.
Didn't you feel bad that you were cheating on your wife?
I thought I would but I didn't. I hate all the lying and subterfuge - that's quite out of character for me - but the sex itself was fine. It didn't really feel like I was cheating as there was no relationship with the girl I was having sex with (its not always like this though!) - I was just finding a source for something that my wife was no longer providing.
Why didn't the girl provide full French-kissing?
I don't know for sure but French-kissing is very intimate and not many girls provide this service -its easier to find anal escorts than girls that kiss! When escorts do provide this service it is usually at their discretion (i.e. not if you have eaten garlic the evening before!). The intimacy of French kissing can lead to problems that you don't get with a straightforward "shag".
Why were the reviews innaccurate?
I think the reviews were probably accurate. Maybe the girl did provide French kissing but only if she liked the client a lot! That happens... Sometimes escorts do fake their own reviews but I think more often as not it comes down to client perceptions, or differences in how an escort treats particular clients, or time of the month or whatever. I usually visit girls that have a lot of good reviews and no bad reviews and where the service description fits my needs at the time - I usually look at the reviews before checking out the girls web-site.
Was the girl a good choice for a "first time punt"?
Yes, very good. She knew just how to relax me as I was very nervous and quickly shifted my perceptions of what it was like to visit an escort.
Was there anything bad about this "punt"?
Nothing serious. For me French-kissing is really a must and I prefer to visit girls in nicer locations.
Did you visit her again?
No - I decided on something completely different the next time! Might have visited again but found girls I was better suited to.
Can I have the girls contact details?
She retired some time ago.
Is it always best to choose an "independent"?
For a first time it is a good idea because you can contact the girl and let her know you are a first timer and get some idea of her personality - this will help to calm your nerves. Nowadays I tend to prefer agency girls as they are often more "natural" than the independent escorts - but the difference is slight and its just a personal preference.
How do you contact escorts?
I use private email for initial contact and that is good for a first timer to avoid nerves, but escorts & agencies are not always very good at replying to email. Maybe only 1 in 3 will get back to you and often with a 24 hour delay - but then again perhaps those that do reply are probably the better ones to deal with anyway. I used to write a paragraph describing myself but now I don't bother unless the girl requests it - I think escorts get a lot of crap in their mailboxes so can't be bothered with long emails from guys they have never met and often they don't reply. You need to contact girls several days in advance if you are going to use email. You will need a phone (a mobile phone is best) to confirm and get address details. Multimap.com is a good place to get a map to the girls location. I sometimes use email to send a number of separate emails to girls to request availability because it can be so difficult to get timely replies - if you do that then please remember to contact the girls that reply positively but you don't book with to let them know you won't be visiting them! Don't book the same girl via several agencies - I did that once and it caused one hell of a row!
Well that is all I can think of for now but if anyone has any more questions I haven't covered here then please add them in the "Comments" and I will try and reply as truthfully and openly as I can.
Next Installment: A duo date.
|
Added on: 10/10/05 09:44
Comments (7)
|
|
|
|
If you remember I'm describing my first escort date. We were just about to walk through to the bedroom together.
We walked into the room. It was a small bedroom with a Queen-size double-bed pushed up against the wall on one side. The room was not as well decorated as the rest of the flat - I assumed that this was the "working" room only and not the girls bedroom and that turned out to be correct. There were a number of cuddly toys above the bed. I found that disconcerting as I don't like to be reminded of a womans "inner child" when I am about to have sex with her - its just a personal thing but I like to feel confident that the girl is mature and knows what she is doing. It was a scorching hot day and the window was open but it was silent outside. The curtain across the window was too thin to block out much of the light and the bright sunlight made the room seem harsh and clinical.
The girl asked me how I would like to start. Massage wasn't my thing so I said I would like to start with a kiss and a cuddle "If that's OK with you...". I wanted to feel her warm soft body next to mine and feel that lush dark hair on my bare skin, partly to turn me on and partly to push the rather clinical atmosphere of the room to the back of my mind. She smiled, we climbed on top of the bed (only once have I ever got inside the covers with an escort - a rather peculiarly intimate experience!) and we started to kiss. The reviews were inaccurate. "Full-on" French-kissing was not on offer. Kissing was nice but with mouth closed. It was a little frustrating for me but enough to turn me on. We kissed a lot - sometimes she appeared to get more passionate as if the "No tongues" rule was a rule there to be broken, but it never happened during the date. At some point we started to undress. I remembered to remove my shoes and socks first! The girl took the opportunity to visit the bathroom. I'm guessing she took the opportunity to lube up discretely since when we got back to the action she was already very wet. She was wearing stockings and suspenders which looked good on her, although not the best colour for her I would say IMHO.
I was surpised (and delighted) to find that she was very determined to ensure that she had a good time. She was very demanding about exactly how I should touch her to get her aroused - on the one hand it made me feel a sexual novice, but on the other hand it made me feel much better about what I was doing! She tried to put on a rubber but I'm somewhat bigger than average so it was much more comfortable for me to put it on myself. She gave me a covered BJ. Since BJ's are a visual thing for me it didn't matter that it was covered - I am not that sensitive around the glans so very few girls can bring me to the edge that way, but if it looks sexy it will get me really aroused. However, there was very little eye contact and her technique, whilst perfectly acceptable, didn't lend itself to visual stimulation. After the BJ she rode me cow-girl for a while then complained that she couldn't orgasm. I mentioned that I found it difficult to orgasm with the girl on top and could last like that for ever: "Oh good..." she said - and promptly rode me again! She was on top like this for some time, obviously quite determined to cum, and finally ended with an orgasm. In this position I realised that we seemed to have some physical compatibility problems - something to do with the girl being short in the body while I am quite long in the body. We just didn't seem to be able to get comfortable together (since this time I have stuck with escorts close to my own height to avoid this problem). I just lay back and watched while she brought herself off. She looked very sexy even in the harsh sunlight, her dark skin seemed suited to it. The whole time she kept her eyes closed. I guess she was imagining she was with someone else - although obviously enjoying the sensation of having a man's cock inside her. Her orgasm seemed genuine enough - it was not "over the top" and I could feel her vagina muscles gripping my cock lightly as she came. It was very nice to see her orgasm and relaxed me totally - how could I feel bad about what I was doing to her now? I have never known an escort be so keen to orgasm however.
We were quite chatty throughout the sex session. A bit like going to the hairdressers: "Hot isn't it? Do you like your hair covering your ears or arond you ears? Do you like your BJs soft or firm?". It tends to be a bit like that the first time with a new escort as you don't know each others little peculiarities, unless you just happen to click right from the start.
The girl needed a little time to rest after her orgasm. She made it clear that she wouldn't come again that session. I felt that it was time that I had an orgasm too, so we resumed in missionary position until I came. I had a lot of thoughts running through my head that were a distraction - I had to push them to the back of my mind and try and consider the girl as a sex-object for a few minutes.
The girl cleaned me up afterwards with a wet-wipe whilst chatting away. I got dressed and used the bathroom - she was waiting for me in the corridor - just standing there in her sexy underwear. She carried on chatting to me. She wanted to tell me a funny story. I could have listened to her all day, curled up on her sofa together, but I had a plane to catch! She was chatting to me like she hadn't spoken to anyone for a year! Sadly I had to break away. Her personality hadn't changed at all as a result of having sex with a stranger - she was still just as chatty, cute, friendly as before. The sex was nice, the girl was professional as an escort, but I also liked this upbeat friendly girl as a person and would have enjoyed spending more time with her on a social level. But it wasn't possible this time: "Take Care" she said - and off I went, with a smile on my face and a plane to catch.
She was a lovely girl, not at all what I had imagined. I felt good - I felt like a man again. No trace of feeling "dirty". Many questions ran round my mind afterwards - but more of those in my next installment.
Next Installment: My First "Punt" FAQs.
|
Added on: 10/07/05 06:17
Comments (4)
|
|
|
|
Well I think I have kept the ladies in suspense quite long enough and fortunately I have the chance to post again this morning!
If you remember from yesterday I was describing my first "punt" and had got to the point where I was standing outside the ladies door waiting for the door to be opened, wondering what might lie in wait for me and fearing the worst, but hoping for something better. I was expecting the lady behind the door to be normal, ordinary, perhaps business-like and distant in behaviour, but would she be? Perhaps something awful was waiting for me behind that door....
The door seemed to take an age before it was answered. Probably it was only a few seconds. I took a sharp intake of breath. What I saw when the door was opened shocked and surprised me.
So tempting to leave you in suspense again but I won't!
The door opened to reveal a startlingly attractive young Asian woman. Far more attractive than I had expected and seemingly younger too. But more astonishing than that was her figure. I had expected a girl with a rather ordinary figure, slim but nothing special. This girl was not like that - she had a curvaceous, womanly figure, with a narrow waist, broad hips but no broader than her shoulders, full breasts. She was petite but had nice legs, quite long in proportion to her body with the knee to ankle long and straight, accentuated by high-heels. The girl was wearing a tight fitting mini-dress revealing dark coffee-coloured skin on her legs and breasts. "Come-in" she said, flashing a smile at me, dazzling white teeth against the darkness of her skin. She was ultra-feminine and glided along in front of me like a cat. She was an Indian Marilyn Monroe, sexier than I had ever imagined possible. Sex on legs basically. It seemed I was alone with her.
"Are you nervous?" She said, smiling confidently.
"Very..." I replied
"Its OK, no need to be nervous with me!" she giggled "I won't bite!"
The thought flitted through my mind that I would quite like her to bite me, scratch me, scream "Oh God"..... But there was a problem. I had too many thoughts going around my head. "Why is this lovely girl working as an escort?" "Is this her flat? it looks more like a bachelor pad", "Is there someone behind that closed bedroom door?" "Can I relax enough to get an erection?". I needed to relax, but could I?
The girl took my jacket from me and I took the opportunity to remove the envelope with the cash from my pocket and handed it to her. "Your gift..." I said and she said a "Thank you" and took it away with her. She returned with a drink and we sat on the sofa in the living room.
The flat was very nice inside. Very tastefully decorated and furnished with a nice TV and Hi-Fi, quite a contrast to the scene outside and betraying a keen sense of style. The girl's heels clicked across the laminate floor as she walked - something sexy about that sound. She began to tell me about her family, about the trouble she was having with abusive phone callers, about her friends. She even told me her real name. "Hold on a minute" I thought "This isn't right surely, this is more like a blind date than sex for money! Doesn't she just lie on a bed staring at the ceiling thinking about shopping at Monsoon while I fuck her? How can she have a family? Don't these girls just come from care-homes?" - but she was nothing like that. She was normal, everyday, well-balanced, sweet, cute, very feminine, lovely. The kind of girl I would have gladly taken home to meet my Mum and Dad, my friends. The kind of girl you marry and have loads of kids with, not the kind of girl you might imagine paying to have sex with.
I was so glad for the chat - I needed time to calm down, to relax. We chatted like this for 10 minutes or so, the girl wriggling her body on the sofa right up next to me, combing her lush dark hair back with her hands - using all her body-language skills, so cute, so feminine, so sexy. She knew exactly what she was doing, I was in the company of an expert. I was ready to fuck her now, I had the hots for her, though I sensed I was probably not her type. She gave the impression of preferring night-clubs to country pubs, Ibiza to Vienna, muscle-men to graduates. Then she did something that I have seen a few other escorts do, just a little something I love, that really turns me on - she put her closest hand on my leg, just above the knee with the finger-tips on the inside of my thigh. It was only there for a moment, but the body language said "Its OK, its coming, I know what I am doing, I am comfortable with what I do and we are going to have a great time together...". She smiled. After that little touch I was impatient for more, my nerves had eased. The hormones had reached my groin and my cock was telling me it was ready as soon as I was. She could sense that I was getting impatient and after a little more chat she led me through to the bedroom....
Next installment: My First "Punt" continued again!
|
Added on: 10/05/05 05:50
Comments (3)
|
|
|
|
After a year spent wondering if "punting" was for me Summer approached and the sight of too many young women in skimpy clothes settled the matter - I needed to have sex and a year without was more than I could bear.
I chose an Indian girl that was new to the scene, had a good reputation already and according to reviews offered full-on French kissing. I always like dark-skinned girls with masses of dark hair and I can't associate ladies with an Indian background with the terms "sleazy" or "seedy". The reviews never mentioned a maid so I guessed that we would at least appear to be on our own together even if the lady had some "security" behind closed doors. The lady was also independent so I could communicate directly with her by email. The lady's web-site was classy with some nice pictures showing a petite girl in her twenties with a "girl next door" figure but with her face blurred out - you could just make out something of her bone structure and masses of lovely dark hair. Enough to say that she was attractive? Difficult to say - and in any case were the pictures those of the girl I would meet?
The location of the date was in a town close to the motorway that I would be using to get to the airport. I told my wife I would be taking a flight at 1pm giving full flight details when in fact it was at 3pm. This gave me two hours spare - half an hour to get from the motorway to the location, 1 hr appointment, half an hour to escape!
I sent an email to the lady in question a couple of days prior to the chosen date. She confirmed that she would be available but I would have to telephone her the morning of the date to confirm and get location details. Her tone in the email seemed pleasant and friendly, but she wouldn't answer certain questions directly (due to the need to avoid the crime of "soliciting" I guess)
On the day I was very nervous about phoning. I almost bottled out, but my sex drive wouldn't let me. I phoned just before work at 9am - no answer, only the voicemail. I hung up and then realised that escorts must rely on voicemail all the time so I called again and left a confirmation message. A few minutes later I got a call back. I was driving at the time and in my panic to answer the phone I almost lost control of the car. A rather stern business-like lady confirmed the date and gave instructions on how to get close to her flat, but not the actual address. The details given were enough to download a map from Multimap and I was on my way.
I treated the appointment like it was a genuine date - I was wearing a suit, had my hair and nails cut and had showered before leaving home. At a pub close to the location I visited the toilet, sprayed on some eau de Cologne and chewed a few breath-freshener sweets. I think I may have picked up a small bunch of flowers from a supermarket. I checked the cash which was tucked into an envelope. I was getting more and more nervous. I wasn't absolutely sure about the location so I had to call again. I was directed to park close to the flat. The "cloak and dagger" stuff was really making me feel uneasy, as if I was committing some awful crime.
As I drove along I noticed that this was perhaps one of the rougher parts of town - not really bad but not what I was expecting I guess. There were some rough looking people about and as I approached the flat I could see an ambulance parked outside. There were some rusty old cars parked around, one of which was chocked up with its wheels removed. I felt rather over-dressed for the area! Still, perhaps the curtain twitchers would think I was an insurance salesman!
There were no curtain twitchers. It was the middle of the day and no-one was about. I called yet again to let the lady know I had arrived, worrying about the number of calls I had made on my work phone to this one number. The lady was looking at me from her window, checking me out, but I couldn't see her. she gave me the flat details when she was satisfied. I chewed on yet another breath freshener mint, locked up my car with a krook-lock (I didn't want to risk losing my car whilst the local thieves knew I would be busy for an hour!) then approached the block of flats.
The block was modern, owned by a housing association if I remember rightly. It had big strong doors at the front. I took a few steps to the first floor and stood outside the ladies flat. It had a big strong door and handle of the kind meant to withstand violent men kicking it in. This certainly wasn't a "hell-on-earth" council sink estate but it wasn't a leafy middle-class suburb either. Thoughts of "Band of Gold" started flitting through my mind...
My heart was pumping so hard I was in danger of passing out! But I had made up my mind to knock on the door and see what was behind - and run like hell if I didn't like what I saw! What horrors might be behind that door? I imagined all sorts of scenarios, helped along by the rough-edges of the location. A guy with a baseball bat, ready to hit me about the head and steal my wallet? A drug-raddled mess of skin and bones? A girl with a face like a donkey? A seedy old slapper, unwashed and unwanted?
I took a grip of myself and knocked firmly on the door, then took a half-step back preparing myself to run down those stairs as fast as I could. I heard a ladies voice, the bolt on the door slid over and the door began to open....
Next installment: My first "punt" continued....
|
Added on: 10/04/05 06:11
Comments (4)
|
|
|
|
When you are a married man and you are about to visit an escort for the first time you need to consider the issue of lying your bloody head off to your partner while you do the dirty on her. It seems that some married men don't give a toss about this and seem to want to get caught in the act for whatever reason in which case they should take everything I say below and do the opposite. But for most of us we are trying to avoid humiliating our partners and having a sex life of sorts without causing a lot of people undue distress.
There are four key aspects to be considered to being discrete: the visit itself, the journey there, paying for the visit and sexual health.
I don't want to go into great detail about the sexual health aspects. There is a lot of misleading information out there and some web-sites will promote "theories" on the transmission of STIs rather than fact, especially hospitals and research facilities funded by religious groups. You need to consider if your health will be in danger, if there is a possibility that the disease will be passed on to your partner (especially in the case of permanent infections such as herpes), can you cover up the true cause (as you might be able to with "crabs" for example), how easily an STI can be cured before your partner gets to know about it. You must use a condom for penetrative sex, but for oral it is debatable - some say "yes, definitely" others say no. Consider if the girl you are going to visit is indulging in practices that may be unsafe (such as rimming or bareback). Visit the public health laboratory web-site at:
http://www.hpa.org.uk/infections/topics_az/hiv_and_sti/default.htm
for detailed information.
When visiting an escort it is important to remember the maxim "never foul your own doorstep". It is important to remember that if you are seen in the wrong part of town at the wrong time (or your car is seen) then someone you know may start asking awkward questions or mention something to your partner. You may even bump into the working girl you visited when out shopping with the family -she is highly unlikely to say something but your heart will stop beating for a minute or so! Best to go to a place where you know no-one and no-one knows you, or a big city like London where you are unlikely to bump into someone that will recognise you (but take care at main stations!). Consider your journey to the escort - what will your excuse be for making that journey? I happen to travel with my job so that's easy for me. Take care when driving to the location - a parking or speeding ticket picked up in the wrong place may cause your lies to become unravelled - best to choose a girl that is on the route to wherever you are supposed to be. Take care of timings for the visit - the visit will probably add two hours+ to a journey that you will need to cover for. Make sure you leave no trace of your activities on your PC - websites like Punterlink often leave "cookies" on your PC as well as the link to the web-site being stored by the browser for future use - make sure you delete all instances. Create a false identity for yourself using a name in no way connected to you (make it easy to pronounce and spell and memorable - "Ryan" was a bad idea as the oriental girls have great difficulty with it! Best to avoid a name that is smutty too - being smutty puts some escorts off and you might not get the booking you wanted). An email address obtained through an easy to register site with no (real) personal details required such as Lycos is good. Consider getting a new mobile phone for the purpose - I use my work mobile phone so I need to hope that the accounts department won't check those numbers I have dialled! I prefer to make a provisional booking by email for this reason if I can. Bear in mind that if you get on the wrong side of an escort or an agency they will often hassle you by phone - could result in awkward questions. Watch out for "escorts" using premium rate numbers to rip off clients - especially if you use a work mobile.
Once you are with the escort be sure that the visit won't leave its mark. Most experienced escorts don't wear much make-up or perfume, but some mature escorts do like to wear some foundation. I like girls with dark skin and dark foundation makes a hell of a mess on a white cotton shirt! A long blonde hair on the back of your jacket will result in awkward questions. The experienced escort will warn you of this and check that no evidence remains of your encounter - but a quick visit to the toilets at the motorway services on the way home will help to ease any last minute worries (take your jacket and pullover off and check the back for hairs...). Consider the excuse that the blonde hair or perfume might have got there by above-board means - that old lady in purchasing for instance that likes to throw half a bottle of Chanel on herself of a morning. If you are very lucky the escort will actually lose the plot during the act and get really wild - but take care she doesn't bite or scratch you if she does - it has happened to me!
If you keep your money matters to yourself then you won't need to be concerned about being discrete with the financing of your new hobby, unless you are planning a three girl all-night orgy. If your wife opens your mail its a different matter. Taking 200 out of an autobank will raise questions - if caught you can say its for a secret birthday present for her but you'd better know what that is and have the money still to hand! Regular visits to escorts are expensive and even if you are well off they will make a big hole in your net disposable income - your partner is likely to notice the deficit if you "punt" too often. My preferred solution to this problem is to take money out as cashback when visiting a supermarket a few pounds at a time (my wife has been banned from all our local supermarkets thanks to her shop-lifting spree back in the bad old days) - consequently I don't "punt" that often, only once every 2 or 3 months. Hide the money away somewhere very safe (perhaps at work). Even after great care my wife has found my cash or taken the extra out of my wallet. Have your excuses ready!
If your wife is the kind that asks you if you have been faithful then remember how you reacted when you were being faithful and react the same way when she asks you again after you have been unfaithful. You are going to need to become a proficient liar! The lying and subterfuge are difficult to cope with. Is it worth it? Only if you sex drive is more than you can deal with without an outlet for it. You will find it easier after a couple of visits and easier still if you meet the same girl in the same location for subsequent visits.
Next installment: My first time "Punt" - but I will be away for a few days so probably won't post until early next week.
|
Added on: 09/29/05 05:52
Comments (0)
|
|
|
|
In this installment I leave behind the story of why I got into this scene and start to move on to my first experiences. This part could be of interest to clients and escorts new to the scene or just thinking about getting started.
Of course I knew about commercial sex long before I got involved in seeing escorts. I had made the obligatory lads weekend trip to Amsterdam and had been impressed by the way the girls turned away the clients they didn't like the look of. But I didn't want to risk trying out those girls. What went on behind those red velvet curtains? Did you just get a baseball bat at the back of your head and a missing wallet? No way of knowing. I had visited the Eros center in Frankfurt and followed the long queue of sex-tourists climbing each floor peeking in at the rooms of the girls - riddled with injected drugs reaching out their bony arms "Come to me baby" - yeah sure, so you can spend the rest of my life in my nighmares. I had seen the streetgirls - some drug raddled, some sweet innocent young girls just out of school afraid of the dark streets they were forced to work.
I had visited a brothel with two single friends - a brothel with a dwarf on reception where you walked maybe 50 feet down a flight of stairs to a basement room decorated in red with three girls dancing on a stage. My friends made a pick of the girls they were interested in while I watched the zombies on stage until a girl came over to me and started pawing at my wallet while I paid for one more beer. That last beer pushed me over the top. Suddenly the surreal imagery - the dwarf, the red room, the zombie girls - all started swirling around in my head. I thought I was sinking into Hell - I ran out of the place and didn't stop running till I got back to my hotel.
Not for me, any of that stuff. Upmarket escorts - if they existed in the UK, had to be the answer. It was then I discovered they did exist - on the internet at least.
This was something like 5 years ago and the internet commercial sex industry was still in its infancy, but already there were escort review sites. Here was the key. Here I could learn about what actually went on behind the curtain.
One of the first things I discovered was that escorts, in some cases, actually French kissed. I had always been led to believe that didn't happen - that this was an unspoken rule of the industry. But some do. In fact, using the review sites, I could enter words like "Snog", "French-kiss", "Deep-kiss" and get a list of the reports where these actions were mentioned, then eliminate those reports where the comment was "Does not French-kiss" etc. This was key to me - I can't imagine having sex without first having a good snog. I could, in a very few cases, check what the girl looked like by linking to her web-site, albeit with pictures obscured so as to protect the girl's identity. Escorts employed baseball bats only if that was to your taste, not to steal your wallet.
I realised that I didn't want my first escort date to be with a 6ft tall porn-star Amazon woman that was going to give me prostate massage with the aid of a 12 inch strap-on. Something more "regular" was required for the nervous first-time "punter". I needed "Girl-friend experience" (GFE to the unitiated). Although I normally go for girls just below my own height, on this occassion I would prefer someone more petite. Someone that French kissed. In those early days this would be hard to find (and even today girls that genuinely French kiss are quite rare). I didn't want anyone else involved in the deal - no agency, no maid (maids were common in those days), no (obvious) security. It would be almost a year before I found the right girl in the right place.
Next installment: Being Discrete.
|
Added on: 09/27/05 10:40
Comments (0)
|
|
|
|
Like the new avatar? Its a characature of the real me! (Everyone trying to imagine guy with bright yellow face and inverted commas for eyes....)
In the last installment I was 35 and had just had a passionate one night stand with a 21 year old. I wake up next morning sober and desolate. I actually want to turn back the clock. I have really blotted my copy-book now! I have taken my marriage vows, jumped up and down on them and kicked them out of the park. There is no turning back. I can console myself with thoughts like "Aye, well I was really drunk at the time..." and "I didn't want to do it, she forced herself on me" but its not helping. I go home and get a good nights rest and feel better for it. I realise that whilst I am unhappy about whats happened I am no longer actually depressed. I feel like I am a man again. Meaningless sex has actually cured my depression. Life seems worth living for a while - but I know it isn't going to last. I need to make some important decisions about what happens next.
I think about divorce. I could leave my wife and take up with this new girl. But I suspect this girls motives for turning up in my room like that (correctly as it turns out - her father has died 6 months previous and she is having difficulty coping with it). I suspect that if we got together we would be lucky if it lasted 6 months. On the other hand there is a small possibility it could work out in which case she would want children and a nice house. But I feel I would have to keep my wife in the manner to which she is accustomed leaving much less for the new set-up and I really don't want to do the baby thing again - I have been, in effect, a single parent for 5 years and I am very close to my kids and there isn't room for any more. I could take up with an entirely different woman, a divorcee that already has kids, and that would be a better option but I still don't like the idea of trading in my own kids for someone elses. Looking at it from my wifes perspective she would be really angry. She would use our kids as a weapon making it difficult for me to see them, she would start to fall apart emotionally and our kids would suffer, she would harrass me continually and I would feel guilty and have to support her. My family and her family would hate me for it. I would get the blame. I might also find that I have a lot of love left for her, but it is difficult to say as our relationship is so complicated. These problems would crop up even if we just separated and I didn't get involved with anyone else. Divorce simply isn't an option, at least until the kids are grown up.
I feel trapped again. I need to ditch the young girl that is pursuing me as it is becoming a "Fatal Attraction " scenario. Her obssession is actually starting to scare me (I blame the film!) so I string her along for a few months until "out of sight out of mind" works its magic and she forgets about me. I don't feel bad about it because it was purely her decision to get involved in the first place.
I have had my eyes opened by the experience. I notice that a lot of young girls in their early twenties are interested in me, more interested in me than when I was their age. That seems strange, even though I am told I look some 6 years younger than I really am. I notice that boys in their early twenties tend to go up the pub of a Friday night, get completely rat-arsed, throw up in the gutter, pretend they are "hard" and have a really deep gruff voice and pepper every other sentence with "Fuckin' wanka". I start to see why young girls in their early twenties might find a married man in his mid-thirties quite attractive. I have been groomed by my over-assertive wife to be the perfect partner. There is a lot of temptation around, and with my copy book so badly blotted its going to be difficult to keep to the straight and narrow!
But I am still trapped. The best long-term cure for my depression is to find a source of meaningless sex with no strings attached. I surf the web for porn and by accident happen upon a web-site in Argentina for escorts. My God, if you like the girls of Baywatch then Argentina is one hell of a place for a single guy to spend a holiday! These girls are not like the "Band of Gold" girls. They are more like the high class "call-girls" of a Jackie Collins novel - and they really exist! I start to wonder if they exist in the UK too....
... Next installment - researching the UK punting scene.
|
Added on: 09/23/05 05:23
Comments (2)
|
|
|
|
Forget I said anything! Just read my blog today and be happy - it will get your sexual fantasies working overtime!
The story so far: I am stuck in a sexless marriage and have been for 4 years. I am really depressed to the point of being suicidal, but see no real way out. At this point something bizarre happens. So bizarre you will probably be thinking "Oh come on now Ryan, you're making this up!". But God really does seem to move in mysterious ways sometimes, that's the only way I can explain it.
What happens is that I have to go to a training course in a hotel in London for a week. The training course splits us more senior guys up to act as mentors to a group of six young lads and girls in their teens/early twenties. Most of these young people I have met before at work, but I don't know them that well. The course is a good laugh. The young lads are trying to chat up the girls but they aren't really having any of it. They | | | | |
