Posts Tagged ‘massage

22
Apr
13

Embracing the Unexpected (firmly, with my thighs…)

Hoo boy! Apologies, friends & followers – I am so behind on blogging! I promise it’s because I’ve been dutifully collecting more material to write about! This weekend was a very unexpectedly good one too! I have enough words & ideas floating in my head for several blog entries. If only I could do a data dump via memory stick rather than my fingers I’d be better able to keep up!

Friday night found me home after work with no plans to speak of.  My intent was to avoid the pissing rain by staying in and catching up on some laundry, house cleaning & movies. It was cold enough that I was considering building a fire and about to thaw some soup out for dinner. Then, at 6:51pm, I was offered an opportunity to go see Prince perform at the Showbox theater at the Market – a very intimate (1100 capacity) venue and a very coveted ticket. The four shows he was doing there had been sold-out for months! The catch was? It was general admission and the doors were supposed to have been at 6:30 but were pushed to 7:00. I live about 15 minutes away and was well on my way to slack and sloth – with no makeup, a t-shirt, jeans & a hoodie. Well, I jumped on it hard! Within 8 minutes I had applied some eyeshadow, put on a “boobie shirt” and some cute boots with a little heel, ran a brush through my hair & was driving. I zoomed into Seattle with moderate traffic for a Friday evening, found excellent (if expensive) parking in a lot a block from the venue, grabbed a junky umbrella out of my car (because it was pouring,) and RAN! I was relieved to see that the line for the show still stretched around the corner, but was motivated to hurry because it was starting to move. I called my friend while I ran and she said that they were just under the marquee and about to be let in.

“Is that you with the pink umbrella?”

“YEP!”

ZOOM! I met them at the door, grabbed my ticket, threw the umbrella in the trash can and strode in to the theater for one of the most exciting, loud, energetic, interactive and ROCKING shows that I’ve been to! The Purple One was charming & engaging, full of humor and wit, dead sexy and had a fantastic, all-female band that rocked. Tight guitar licks swelled and it felt like a house-party jam at times. He did a nice mix of new stuff and yet gave a nod to his hits by opening with “Let’s go Crazy” and closing with “Purple Rain” after a subtle reference to the tragedy in Boston and our need to heal & feel good. Perfect.

My friends refused to take any money for the ticket which I later realized had a face value of $275 and was scalping for $500 easily. Jeez! What an unexpected treat! They said I could babysit for them sometime. DEAL!

When the show ended around 10:45 I was completely amped up and also famished, but my friends were anxious to get home to relieve their sitter, so we parted ways and I found myself full of energy, hungry and…in Seattle by myself with no plans. I realized that a (just friends) friend of mine was hosting karaoke at a bar I like about seven minutes away and decided to go there for some food, singing & company. Excellent choice!

My friend was delightedly surprised to see me. I had sent him a hasty text earlier about Prince and he was suitably jealous and also wanted all the details. My food was excellent and satisfying and the crowd was extremely receptive and enthusiastic for karaoke. There were also a lot of good singers and a fairly short rotation, but the energy of the crowd made me feel like a goddess every time I had a mic in hand. I was still flying high (and also slightly deaf) but planned to leave before the adrenaline waned and fatigue hit. Around 12:30 when I made noises about shoving off my friend protested and insisted that I stay. Then I sang some more, people asked to sing with me and the rotation of singers got shorter…okay, twist my arm!

Around 1:30 my friend’s boss who owns the karaoke business showed up to collect him and the equipment. He is also someone that I consider a friend and we were sitting and chatting when my phone chimed to indicate that I had a text. Thinking it could only be my ex hubby texting me at 1:45 in the morning, I was very pleasantly surprised to see that it was my long-lost “1994 Brad Pitt” whom I hadn’t seen since February but had periodically exchanged some wicked-hot texts with! Normally, I am the one who initiates contact with him, so this was unexpected to begin with, but what he said was that he would be at the club we met at on Tuesday – an invitation to get together again. Also unexpected! Tuesdays at that bar are karaoke nights as well and that’s how we met. The host on Tuesdays is “the boss” that I was sitting with right that minute, so I sent a response saying just that:

“Funny, I’m sitting here talking with XXX right now. He says the theme for Tuesday is ‘work’.”

An immediate response followed wondering where I was, I told him and about my most excellent night & he responded with stuff like “gotcha beautiful” which made my heart and crotch leap because I really enjoy this guy a lot but had basically written him off because he’s so inconsistent. Sometimes he goes out and is an attention whore, sometimes he holes up like a hermit, sometimes he’s chatty & even dirty, sometimes he’s non-responsive or monosyllabic. Also, he’s very young and beautiful, so there’s a little bit of an insecurity issue. Ugh…well, not exactly. I feel perfectly sexy and comfortable with him for the most part, but the reality is that he is smoking hot and must have lots of other opportunities. Realistically, I don’t expect to hear from him often, but am glad when I do. Does that make sense? I’m not putting myself down, I’m trying to express the reality. I do the same thing myself – I have men that interest me more than others for various reasons. But I had sent this guy a really direct & raunchy text last week saying how I wanted to get “growlfucked” and to ride his beard and he had just responded by saying that he was sick and not expressing any particular degree of enthusiasm for the idea in different circumstances. Anyway, unexpected…

Given this background, I decided to be slightly less direct, but I messaged that I was still “totally amped” and he offered that I should come to his place, saying he would be more than happy to have me sit on his face if I wanted. Oh yessssss…..

So this guy’s official designation using my system of initial & age would be P29. However, when talking to my friends & they say “now which one is he?” I say “Young Brad Pitt” or “Brad Pitt in Legends of the Fall” because, yeah…it sort of works. He’s heart-poundingly yummy and I’m sort of stunned that I’ve had sex with him three times and slept overnight with him twice. The fact that we’ve talked a lot, watched a movie while snuggling and that he took my hand while walking me from my car to his door the other night? *sigh*

We met on Valentine’s Day of all things stupid and possibly ironic. I had thrown together an impromptu “anti-Valentine’s Day” outing for myself and four other single friends to go to this dive bar that I enjoy. It was karaoke night, lady’s night and they were doing some Valentine’s-themed pub games that were fun. I brought a huge box of gourmet chocolate that my client had given me and shared it around the bar. It wasn’t very busy, but the fairly light crowd was really engaging and lively. P29 caught my eye for a couple of reasons – one, because he was alone and clearly there for the singing. This is something that I do fairly often, so I guess I just sort of noted the kindred spirit. Two, he is sort of my “type” – longish hair, beard. But he was wearing a sort of loose jersey & baggy jeans that night and didn’t look insanely hot. We spoke a couple of times – once out on the patio while smoking. He was a little stand-offish and slightly dark. We joked about Valentine’s Day and he said something about not being good with women and I said “I somehow doubt that you have a problem in that area” – something that just came out of my mouth because he was dead pretty, you know? Scruffy, but lovely. I swear I wasn’t really flirting with any intent at that point. Just being conversational, really.

Later, having heard his amazing voice, I asked him if he wanted to sing a duet with me. He declined, saying that he was feeling a little bit selfish and solitary. Later, he approached me and apologized saying that he had recently returned from a long tour in Afghanistan and that he was struggling with re-entry a bit and feeling somewhat overwhelmed. We chatted a bit about that and then he added that part of why he didn’t want to sing together was that he was feeling like he was “off” that night and not sounding good. Whereupon I had to tell him that he was an idiot. 🙂 Later, perhaps after a few drinks, he asked me what I was thinking of singing and I suggested “Don’t go Breakin’ My Heart” by Elton John & Kiki Dee. He agreed to sing with me and it was pretty darn good and also fun. Later as all my friends but one left and the singing rotation got shorter, we cheered each other and chatted a bit more. At one point, he turned to me and said “So, XXX, what kind of work do you do?” and I had my first little tingle of recognition that he might just be chatting me up. Hmmmm…

At closing time, about five of us were mingling outside chatting and making goodbye sounds. P29 had told me about another karaoke venue that he frequented and on a whim, I gave him my personal card & said he should let me know if he wanted to sing together again or whatever. About that time, the karaoke host that I knew casually a bit but not well, indicated that he had missed the last bus and asked if anyone could take him to a different bus stop. My remaining friend volunteered me and when I heard where he lived, I offered to drive him home.*

*I feel the need to insert a safety note here – this is someone whose employer I know and I knew by first & last name. He’s also gay and I felt completely at ease driving him home.

Anyway, I am so glad that I drove the karaoke host home because it was the catalyst that launched our friendship and I enjoy him tremendously (he’s the host that I mentioned meeting up with after Prince as well.) We’re close enough friends now that I’ve been to his birthday party, we’ve had a road trip and he’s met my kids. So yes, super happy to see him home safely, but it cut off any potential continued conversation with P29 and I really didn’t expect to hear from him again. Once again however, I need to embrace the unexpected, because just as I was leaving THE VOICE’s place, I got a text saying “I didn’t think it was fair that I had your number and you didn’t have mine, so this is me.” We then proceeded to message for another hour or so – nothing big, just two people chatting at 4am.

The next day I think we exchanged a few messages – that was a Friday. On Saturday we somehow managed to text all day long while I was cleaning house and attending to errands. Nothing really flirty or anything – just friendly & conversational – much about movies, TV, singing. I was watching Breaking Bad on Netflix for the first time and we spent a lot of time on that subject. Later, he went out to sing and I was a little bummed that he didn’t invite me to join since I had let him know that I didn’t have plans. Oddly, however, he continued to text me while he was at the bar & throughout the evening. Finally, around midnight, he sent an adorable text that said: “So since I have some alcohol in me now and less fear, were you hitting on me the other night because that’s the vibe I was getting but my people skills are off since getting back.” My response went like this: “Generally speaking, yes. But I legitimately wouldn’t mind singing, chatting, etc. either.” (SEND) “But yeah, I gave you my number because you seemed interesting, sexy and what the fuck? I’m a single, grown-ass adult. :)” (SEND) “But I am also gifted with a very pragmatic sense of reality in that I am aware that I am a certain age and a certain flavor.” (SEND) He indicated an interest in the hanging out and said he wasn’t looking for anything remotely serious but was disappointed when I gave THE VOICE a ride home because he wanted to talk a little more and at least make out with me. The he followed that with “And I could care less about age and usually prefer a woman with some meat on her bones.”  I told him that I was pleasantly surprised to have heard from him and that I’m usually not so forward with morose men in bars. More conversation about expectations followed and he mentioned getting together to sing or for movies the following day (which we had discussed previously.) Finally, I just went for it and asked what he was doing right that minute. It was 12:45 by that time, but we’d been essentially flirting all day and he seemed to have tapped into his direct & flirty zone, so I went with it. I said that he should come over then and stay for movies the next day. He agreed.

This is my favorite part in what’s essentially a three-parter of an entry & becoming very long, I realize. He offered to bring food, mixers – very polite. I gave him my address & he headed over. I heard him pull up earlier than I expected & went to answer the door. OH MAN!  I mean, my God, this guy was cute with his scruffy hair & beard in the bar, with the hockey jersey or whatever. But what showed up at my door? I pretty much needed to mop my floor because I think I squirted right then & there. Wavy light brown hair with blonde highlights pulled back into a neat ponytail. Gorgeous distressed leather jacket over a dark dress shirt & black tee. Jeans that hugged all the right spots and beautiful, broken-in, leather cowboy boots (but not the gross kind that are too decorative.) He was seriously beautiful and I was going to make the sex with him. OH> MY> GOD!

So yeah, that we did and it was also unexpectedly amazingly excellent. I mean, I figured it would be good and nice and pleasant and maybe even fun. I didn’t expect someone that young to take command like he did, to be as oral as he was or to be so complimentary or responsive. He was very generous and kept saying my name and telling me how beautiful I was or how much he loved this or that. I was surprised to find that when it was my turn to give him some oral – after enjoying some beard-soakingly-good cunnilingus and analingus – that he wasn’t actually hard. Of course I knew that he’d been drinking a bit, but still, it was unexpected. Turns out, he just needs a rough touch. He likes it very physical and he growls in appreciation when you hit it right, which apparently I did. He’s a grower not a shower and I was quite happy that his little mushroom sprouted into a fine specimen of manhood to match the rest of him. We had some really exceptional sex that was downright fantastic for first-time stuff and here’s young Brad Pitt under me apologizing because he came too quick and it had really been awhile. Dudes, he did not come too quickly and he was a genius with mouth, tongue, fingers and beard. Crikey. So delicious was he that I had to have him again around 8am and then then I asked him to settle a bar bet by telling me how old he was. By this time I already figured he was a little bit older than I had originally thought, but yeah, he’s 29. I still qualify as a cougar I guess. 🙂 Later, he slept until nearly 1 – while I occasionally watched him because his serene face was simply beautiful to look at. When he woke we actually watched the movie that had more or less been sex pretense – that was nice. We cuddled and kissed a bit more too – again, not typical morning-after behavior, right? But that was the last time I saw him for two months. Yes, there were messages – some very raunchy and sexy, but we didn’t re-connect until Friday.

Well, Saturday morning, I guess. By the time I got to his place it was around 2:30am. I asked if I could bring anything and he said “just you” and he directed me to a lot where I could park overnight and until 5pm the next day. Oh, okay. I guess I’m staying over, huh? YAY! I was having trouble finding the lot he’d directed me to, so I pulled over & sent him a text. The knock on my passenger-side window caused me to let loose a Jamie Lee Curtis-like scream and a string of swear words and there he was, chuckling and telling me that I need to relax. But how can I relax when you look delicious in that cowboy hat and…oh yum. He hopped in and directed me to park then insisted on paying the fee because I was his guest. Nice. Walking to his place he took my hand. Also nice. Hi, how have you been? 🙂

Continuing our “unexpected” theme I have to kick myself in the ass for my preconceived ideas. I expected his place to be a tiny little walk-up apartment. Not so. Brand new building, beautifully decorated, him on the 5th floor. Granted, his place was a complete mess, but it was beautiful and the best part was his gorgeous king-sized Tempurpedic mattress and leather headboard. He said that after years of sleeping in crappy quarters that he splurged on the bed and that it was amazing. It was. He was.

I was sore from standing during Prince and he helped me take my boots off and massaged my feet. Then he guided me down on the bed, climbed on me and started massaging my back and shoulders. Of course, the least I could do was insist on getting naked so that he could do a more thorough job – which he did. Soon we were both naked and making out like crazy. I was reminded how much this man loves to eat pussy in very short order. Seriously, it was all about me and he ate like a starving man. No polite clit-licking this – we’re talking noisy, sloppy, full-face slurping interspersed with comments about how delicious I was. After I soaked his beard a few times I had to take an opportunity to taste myself on him and clean up his face. I am in fact pretty delicious – especially on his lips. When I took a turn giving him some oral attention – remembering that he likes a rough touch – he insisted that I should sit on his face while sucking his cock because he wanted more of me. God. Damn.

After a long time in this configuration, he let me know when it was time for one of my condoms and I put it on him with my mouth while he moaned. I let him choose the position and he opted for me on top. We did that for a good long while with lots of feedback from him again but in my enthusiasm, he fell out at one point and we had a little trouble getting him re-situated so he flipped me over and started going to work on my pussy & ass with his mouth & fingers again. I think I finally just died and went to heaven because eventually I came in a torrent and laid back and said “shattered” which made him laugh and say that he was glad I enjoyed it.

Now, with older men, I’ve witnessed a fair bit of embarrassment if not frustration if they are unable to perform. Not so with P29. He calmly and with good humor said that his dick was being stubborn, cited the many drinks that he had had earlier and seemed nonplussed by it. I stroked his body & played with his nipples while he sucked air in his teeth and then said that I was more than happy to try to offer further “encouragement” if that’s what he wanted, but that I didn’t want to pressure him if he didn’t think he was up to the task. He said he liked what I was doing and didn’t feel pressured and would let me know if he couldn’t. So…I set to work with my mouth in a way that he immediately responded to very favorably.

One more unexpected moment – if, at my age and level of experience someone does something unique that I’ve never had anyone do before? That’s very surprising. This guy? Full of surprises. Simply being as genuinely oral as he is is a surprising and unusual treat. The ass-play is also a bit of a unique treat – particularly because I enjoy a little bit of play but am not really a fan of a full-on butt reaming. This guy is really great at giving direction – both verbally and non-verbally. I’m usually a little bit dominant, particularly with someone new and this was only our second time being together so it was fascinating that he was able to lead and direct me so well. The “oh, hey – that’s different” moment came when I was sucking him off and he once again asked me to get into a 69 position with me on top. Seriously – he didn’t just want me to blow him, he wanted me to sit on his face while doing so. I was doing some of my best work and would sometimes ease up on the full business in order to concentrate on the tip. If I did this for very long he would wrap his leg around my head and gently push my head back down his length to take him deep. He did this twice and I thought it was both athletic and also clever – he never had to use his hands that were so busy elsewhere.

Eventually, I managed to even distract him from that task which he was enjoying so much. When he came it was loud and very long with full body spasm and ongoing shudders and many a “holy shit” “oh fuck” and such uttered. I responded with his line that I was glad that he enjoyed it.

He was quite clear about having me stay over, but didn’t seem interested in fooling around in the morning but he did insist on walking me to my car like the gentleman I am discovering him to be. We’re supposed to be meeting tomorrow night but it’s very loose & casual. That’s what I struggle with where this one is concerned. I don’t want to make a big deal of things, but I would like to be able to plan and enjoy time together. I guess I fear that I am just a drunk booty call – which I’m not completely opposed to considering how good the sex is. However, I like him as a person as well and wouldn’t mind having that comfort level to say “hey, do you want to do XYZ?” without feeling like maybe I was imposing. Frankly, the fact that I feel that way pisses me off for a couple of reasons. One, he’s never been anything but nice, kind, generous, complimentary, gentlemanly and honest with me. I like that, but I have also had him be non-responsive to texts or respond minimally. It’s frustrating. I feel like this may be one reason that I am more suited to a polyamorous model for relationships. I love it when I can say “yeah, I had a date Friday” to someone that I am involved with and have it not be a weird thing. It’s very liberating. (It’s also a future blog topic!)

Which leads me to tomorrow – when I’m meeting someone new for happy hour at 5pm and hopefully still meeting up with P29 around 9pm. In any case I will bring an overnight bag and my handy-dandy non-latex condoms just in case. And maybe I’ll take a vitamin too – 29-year-olds are exhausting! 😉

02
Apr
13

It Started With an “Unusual Request” then got interesting…

Sometime last fall, I received a rather interesting message on Plenty of Fish from a man who was…handsome enough to make me cautious. He didn’t have a photo associated with his public profile, but I require one in order to message me. His one photo showed a handsome guy, small in stature, with salt & pepper hair, slightly Italian/ethnic features, a sexy, stubbly beard and a good body.  He was so attractive as to make me question whether his was a legitimate profile or maybe some sort of scam. Too pretty, you know? (I am nothing if not cautious.) He expressed an interest in me and said that he had a very particular request. I thought “oh boy, here’s the part where it gets fucked up…” and cautiously encouraged him to go ahead and ask. Worst case, I say no. No harm, no foul.

His response comes promptly and he has a very specific desire. He wants to pleasure me. That’s all. He would like to rub my feet, touch me, massage me, taste me and make me cum for as long as I can take it. He doesn’t expect to have intercourse or for me to do anything other than to enjoy what he does to me. All he asks is that I be freshly showered and open to him pleasuring me.

Shut up.

This has to be a scam, right?

I find myself both suspicious and…cautiously intrigued. I tell him that I’m not sure that I would be comfortable with that. I say that I usually like to get to know someone a little bit before I am comfortable enough to be intimate with them. I ask questions: what do you get out of this? What about your gratification? Why me, specifically? He responds by saying that he would do whatever I wanted to make me comfortable. All I have to do is tell him what that is. He says that he is very gratified by satisfying someone else and that he has two other lovers that take care of his physical needs, but he is looking for someone that is willing to do this for him. He chose me because he prefers my body type – curvy, voluptuous, womanly, juicy, responsive. This is what he likes. This is what he wants. I’m beautiful and he would love to pleasure me, but only if I am comfortable.

I basically blew him off. While admittedly intrigued, I couldn’t quite wrap my head around the notion of someone that good looking wanting nothing more than to…make me cum a lot. I mean, really – I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. At what point would this guy tell me what his hourly rate was to perform said services? Because that’s what he looked like – a gigolo. And what he proposed was decidedly unusual compared to about 97% of men that I knew of. My suspicions and bullshit meter overruled any degree of intrigue and interest that I had. I thought about it, but I did nothing more.

Several days later, I got another message from him. He wondered if I had given anymore thought to his proposal and if there was anything that he could do to make me feel more comfortable. Instead of being pushy or pressuring me, he got conversational. This actually served to make me comfortable. We talked about family, games, Star Wars & sci-fi, tattoos – just general getting-to-know-you-type chat. I found that I related to him on a human level and I felt comfortable opening up to him about my history and reservations concerning his proposal. Which were pretty significant.

I explained that I had been with my ex since I was a teenager and that he really didn’t care for giving oral. This caused me to be not only inexperienced at receiving oral pleasure, but insecure about it. Because he didn’t like it, the ex wasn’t good at it (something I now understand better given recent experience,) and he acted like it was a nasty chore that he had to do a couple of times a year – like cleaning the garage. Try being uninhibited when your lover seems to be holding their breath just to “get through with it” and making a face the whole time. I don’t want to be mean, it just wasn’t his thing and therefore, I was inexperienced. It made me feel awkward, exposed, vulnerable. My default feeling when receiving it was somewhat shameful, gross and “hurry up” rather than beautiful, desirable, eatable, fuckable, juicy. Unsurprisingly,  it was very difficult for me to come from oral – I had finally had someone who liked it and even requested it when we opened up our marriage six years before we split. That was the first time that I had ever been able to orgasm from a man going down on me. Cunnilingus had managed to become something that I fantasized about but that also caused me a little bit of anxiety and discomfort.

Also, I had really spent most of my life taking care of other people – from my siblings through the illness and death of a parent, to my spouse, my kids, my family – even friends & lovers. I was often the caregiver and it was tough for me to be the selfish one. I loved being the center of attention, sure, but it seemed to be something that I clamored for rather than settled into. Lying back and enjoying wasn’t really my MO.

Knowing this and having a pretty clear understanding of my influences, fears & motivations made me all the more interested in trying to challenge myself with this tantalizing request. There was still a feeling like this might just be too good to be true, but I was becoming increasingly comfortable with the guy & he was willing to meet for a drink to see how we got along before even considering bedroom activities. Okay, I think I can do this. Since it was an exercise in expanding my comfort, I didn’t even treat it like a date and may have added a casual aloofness that made my new friend (S42 – let’s call him “Suave”) even more interested in me. We agreed to meet for a drink as soon as the playoff game that I was watching was over. It ran late, I was running late – we changed venues to my neighborhood because of a football game. I kept him waiting. He got there a little before I did but was in the bathroom when I arrived, so I saw him walk into the room. He was a little bit short (as indicated in his profile,) but oh my God he was stunning. I mean – Calving Klein underwear model stunning. No kidding. His picture didn’t do him justice. Full lips, bedroom eyes, “good bone structure” to his face. Light beard – the fashionable and sexy kind – mostly white hair brushed back in that stylish/messy/effortless way. Not an ounce of fat to be seen on his compact body. Really. He was wearing jeans, a t-shirt and a light jacket and I was thinking that he just looked too good to be real. His sunglasses added to the sexy impact and I found myself once again wondering how this could be legitimate and if it was – what I did to deserve such a karmic gift.

He bought me a drink. I opted for a martini. I needed the booze to center myself and calm my nerves. He had a white wine. We talked. It was relaxed. I liked him. As our “not date” progressed I found little moments of surprising affinity – like this was supposed to be a dark & dirty emotionless hookup but we kept laughing and agreeing and would glance up and smile like “oh, we like each other – hi.” It was really interesting. I mean, we’re the same age and had similar backgrounds & interests. We talked about our jobs and families, childhoods, parental disapproval, etc. His parents are Italian and Mexican respectively and his dad is disappointed that he is not married and settled with kids. His mom is recently divorced and living alone for the first time. We share this commonality. I have a feeling that he generally doesn’t get this personal with women that he wants to “service.” I feel like we’ve broken a rule and are forging new ground. We like each other.

The third time the bartender checks back to see if we want another round, he settled the tab. I invite him to my place. He follows me home. He’s great at being relaxed and calm. He can direct and lead without being pushy. It’s a gift. We sit. In the living room on separate pieces of furniture. He makes it casual. Comfortable. Relaxed. He’s not draping himself over me on the couch – he’s sitting in that chair – looking at me and talking to me. I do a shot of chocolate vodka & tell him that I’m infused with liquid courage and ready to try this. He asks if we should go to the bedroom. We should.

I light candles & we put on some music. He asks me to get comfortable. I take off my boots. He rubs my feet. I say that I would be more comfortable without my jeans on. He suggests that I should lie on my stomach so that he can give me a massage if that’s okay. Yup.

Oh my God, he feasts on my body. Slowly. Deliciously slowly. My feet, my toes, my knees. He smells the flesh behind my knees. He breathes me in, inch by inch. He delights in ALL of me. Eventually, achingly slowly, he works his way up to my ass. He rubs, smells, gently bites. He plants his face between my legs and just breathes. The moisture of his breath mingles with mine. The anticipation is an ache – but now that I’m relaxed, pliant & willing he doesn’t make me wait. He asks permission…he pulls cotton & lace aside. And goes the hell to town. Jeeeeeeeeezus. The man lives & breathes pussy & orgasms.

At some point in my muzzy haze of cumming repeatedly I realize that he’s taken his shirt off. I mean, that’s the kind of serious business he’s down to down there – since he’s in up to his shoulders he apparently doesn’t want to get his shirt messy! I should point out that I am being thoroughly worked over by tongue, teeth, fingers & face but I think I came again when I saw this man without his shirt. Holy hell. Did I say underwear model? He was RIPPED – arms, shoulders, back, abs. I have never been with anyone whose body was so sculpted. Ye gads!

After a few thousand orgasms I finally let him know that I needed a break. I was flooded – overwhelmed, exhausted, spent & satiated. I do still have a preference for actual vaginal penetration in bringing me off and I would have loved to ride his cock for awhile, but that wasn’t part of our deal. While we were lying back on the bed catching our breath, however, I heard the sound of his belt being unbuckled and looked over to see him loosening his pants. Oh, okay. I guess he was aroused after all. That’s kind of nice, right? Good feedback, hmmm?

Mr. Suave is now very subtly rubbing one out and I reach over and encourage him to take his dick out. Oh boy – oh wow, it’s a beauty. I help him get it out and offer a little assistance. Taking him in my mouth seems to be the least I can do for this man who left my lying in a puddle of my own girl goo. He responds very positively to my sucking his dick but there’s a sense that he’s holding back a bit. Maybe this was simply because we were “breaking the rules” of our arrangement. I don’t know. It felt like we’d already gone from this…indecent proposal to…a sort of interesting affection & commonality. It already felt like the rules of engagement had been broken…

I turn my full attention to his rather lovely cock. He hasn’t even really taken it all the way out of his pants. It’s as if he knows that he’s not “supposed” to. I have a hard time articulating his hesitation. Everything between us had been very organic, comfortable, natural – even fun & friendly – unexpectedly so. Now here we are, two adults who are really attracted to each other and interested in each other as people and…he doesn’t seem to want to impose. I would really like him to impose. I suck his dick and cup his balls. He moans and arches his hips, but after a few thrusts he pulls my head back and instructs me to just use my hand. We finish him off in a sort of hand-over-hand fashion & I clean him up with a towel. We both get dressed, he thanks me saying it was perfect & says that he hopes that we can do it again sometime soon. Okay. Okay. Okay.

Seriously – as he leaves me in my robe, barely able to stand from the jiggle legs, I watch this incredibly beautiful man walk away and think that this is essentially what it must feel like to have just been serviced by a professional male prostitute. Seriously. He was that pretty and it was that good and focused so much on me and my pleasure. I HATE that I still had a little niggling voice in my head that wanted to know “what’s the catch?” I actually wondered if maybe this was a new gigolo technique stolen from the drug dealers – the first taste is free & then you’re addicted! It was spectacular, but there was still a little something that seemed slightly…off…I decided to chalk it up to my insecurities, his physical beauty, his very specific “kink” and the fact that we were new together. Essentially, I talked myself out of it & decided I would just enjoy it without hyper-analysis!

And that, my sweeties…is my first cliffhanger…because there is more to this story, much more. I promise to write about it very soon, but this entry is already huge and the rest of the story is a tale unto itself!

STAY TUNED!

17
Mar
13

credit where credit is due

I realize my last several posts have been a bit negative. The evolution of this blog has taught me that this is a great outlet when I’m feeling disciplined to write and share, and also when I’m feeling frustrated, lonely, snarky or am simply enjoying some solo time. However, when things are nice, fun, interesting, delicious, hot and I’m spending a lot of time in bed? Well, the best I can do is a quick tweet. (#risquedivorcee) When I’m getting goodly fucked, I’m not blogging. Subsequently, you guys are missing the good stuff and getting only the complaints. I think you should dump me. I’m a selfish whore.

No, baby, baby – I promise I’ll change! I’ll be good! You’ll like it from now on, I promise! I’ll do all those things you like!

Credit where credit is due – with R30 on Monday night…well, Tuesday morning. This was the guy that picked me up and pushed it pretty hard at the casino around 12:30am. I was seriously grubby and he was enraptured and kept calling me beautiful. His pitch was so strangely desperate – like he was overwhelmed by me and couldn’t possibly let me go without convincing me to date him, fuck him or let him give me a massage – that I actually wondered at its legitimacy. I was sort of waiting for his friends to show up and laugh or something sinister like that. But we exchanged numbers as well as kisses, despite his rather odd “used car salesman” pitches and his slightly effeminate manner. If I had to label, I would say that this guy was a pure cougar fan. Turns out, as indicated above, he’s 30.

Eventually, his buddies texted that they were leaving and he left me. A few minutes later, he came back, saying that they weren’t leaving yet and that he just wanted to spend a few more moments with me. We’d more or less made a date for the following night and it was quite late – like around 2am. He left again and I got up, stretched and moved to another machine at the casino. I was about ready to leave, but was on a winning streak and just enjoying playing a bit on their money. Then I got a text from him.

His friends and some girls are going to smoke out and drink at some lake that’s not too far from where I live. Would I like to come and hang out with him? Well, first, going to strange, secluded places with a bunch of men in the middle of the night is just an invitation for gang rape. Plus it’s late, it’s pissing rain and it’s cold. Why would I go to a lake – even if I was looking cute and more awake? I politely decline, saying that I am looking forward to seeing him tomorrow. He persists – can I just meet him at Shari’s for pancakes? He wants to spend more time with me. Well, that’s sweet and far less dangerous, but I’m not hungry and it’s nearing 3am now. Plus, how would that work? The logistics are confusing as he and his pals all rode together. Turns out he’s at home and has his own car now. Can we meet someplace and just talk?

Fuck it. He’s turned me on, he’s promised me a massage and it’s been almost two weeks since I had sex. I tell him to meet me at my place and I start driving. He’s driving right behind me, so I only have about 10 minutes to set the scene, have a little whore bath, put my hair in a ponytail, brush my teeth & put on sexy underwear and a robe. He’s at my door in no time. It’s almost 4am. I let him in and we kiss.

It took me awhile to realize that this guy is actually probably a bit of a sub. That could be what was up with the vibe I was picking up from him. But I’ve decided that since he offered the massage and since he has good hands, that I will enjoy the slow, languid, sexy massage that I hope to get. And he wants to do it – he wants to serve me and be my slave. We start making out and I lead him to the bedroom that is bathed in dim light and has a towel and massage oil close at hand – along with condoms, naturally.

R30 is very sweet and almost gentlemanly in the moves that he makes. He asks my permission to untie my robe. I let him. He practically faints at the sight of my body in the hot undies. He gasps, he pants, he tells me that I have a beautiful body. He asks if he can touch me. He asks if it’s okay, if it feels good. I say yes because it does. We kiss more, I let him rub me, he asks if he can touch my breasts. Oh god, you had better! But don’t hurt my pretty bra! He’s rubbing, kissing, sucking, licking, blowing (he’s got some lick then blow cold air on thing that he does – doesn’t really do it for me, but I get what you’re trying to do I guess.) He tells me to lie down. I’m just in my boy-short panties. He gasps at my ass and asks if he can touch it. He gets out the oil and rubs me in a very sensual massage. Before turning attention to my ass and other areas, he decides that my feet are cute and that he needs to rub my toes. He asks if that’s okay. Yes. Oh, wow – he’s going to suck them too. That’s only the second time that’s ever happened in my life. My brain thinks that the whole toe-sucking practice is gross but my twat thinks it’s really fucking hot and responds with a rushing river of wet.

Speaking of my pink parts, he finally got there – again, after asking permission – and when I was on display for him, breathlessly offered: “my God, that’s so beautiful.” You have to love such adoration and appreciation! All this was such a delight, but what he did with his tongue, hands & fingers was nothing short of amazing. I’ve had a few men who loved to eat pussy and get all up in there, but this guy took the cake. I think I still have bruises on my pelvis from his face crushing into my lady business. Eventually, after I had come a fair few times, we eventually relieved him of his pants and I found that he was endowed like a soup can. Oh yeah, I can work with that. Seriously, the girth was about that of a can of Campbell’s chunky style and the length possibly a bit more. Oh lucky, lucky me.

As part of the sales pitch that my new friend had offered earlier – he asked me “how long I could go” mentioning that he was a marathoner and could go back-to-back multiple times. Given that we started at 4am and he still had to go pick up his friends after their party, I didn’t expect a full demonstration, particularly because he mentioned that he probably only had an hour or so. He had also warned that it had been awhile for him so the first time would probably be quick but the second would be better. I fully expected him to “get a text” after the first quickie and run, but after all the fine, fine attention I had already received I wasn’t about to complain.

As it turned out, the first time was fantastic. The only problem was that he was slamming into me so violently that he would occasionally pop out because of his somewhat short length. I think we tried every possible position. After he came he was right back at me – keeping me warmed up for the next round that happened pretty quickly – especially after I gave him what he later referred to as “the best blowjob I’ve ever had in my life.” I also demonstrated my trick of applying a condom with my mouth. He was shocked, amazed, stunned and curious. I just explained that it’s a great way to keep a guy from losing wood while putting the condom on. So impressed was he that he asked me to do it again when we went in for round three. By that time both of us were flagging as it was after 6:30am and we had just had a mini-marathon of sex for almost three hours straight without stopping.

I’ve had a few texts from him since – one with a dick pic – and there was some talk about getting together today. I haven’t heard from him yet, but maybe I ought to take a nap just in case! 😉




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Quickies with the Risqué Divorcée!

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  • RT @joss: To everyone who keeps saying "Go back to making jokes/films/etc", WHAT DO YOU THINK WE WANT MORE THAN ANYTHING 2 years ago