Just my type

Just because I like it. Such beautiful body, curves which send my mind into raptures. Please Father Christmas, can I have one of these for Christmas?

Working Girl

Apparently, that’s what prostitutes are called these days. I know that, because my sex life has been so bloody miserable recently that I’ve felt the need to investigate what a man would have to do in order to pay for his pleasures. It seems such a perfunctory title. The word prostitute at least gives some level of distinction. Your brain needs to engage to understand that the person in question is actually selling their body for the pleasure of others.

I’ve often wondered what it would be like being a prostitute. As a man with nothing outstanding to offer by way of looks, length, or girth, I suspect there simply isn’t the market for me. But it doesn’t take much for me to allow my mind to wander and think about what the girls of the world who work in this trade think. I imagine they enjoy some moments, hate others, and get on and not think about some others too much.

I went to punternet today, a site that someone introduced me to about ten years ago which I remembered as i was heading to my business hotel this evening. Having not ejaculated into anything that has ever had a pulse for far too long, and with my usual places to go looking for fun and adventure drying up, I decided to take the plunge. It’s not as easy as I’d hoped.

First, they have their own language. This underworld of men seeking a mate for an hour requires an education before you get into the game. They use acronyms a lot, which have always confused me. One guy complained that his escort wouldn’t FK. I presumed that meant fuck, but I later discovered it means french kiss. I felt stupid all of a sudden.

The next thing that hits you, as you trawl through their field reports, which is a term that makes me smirk to myself, as it conjures up images of roving reporters working tirelessly to provide intelligence reports back to HQ. The next thing that hits you, is that the market seems to be heavily populated by eastern Europeans, 22 yrs of age, size 6, offering a girlfriend experience. The only alternatives are 50yr old women who have apparently “looked after” themselves according to the reporters.

In both cases, I can understand why they get into these things. As £120 an hour seems to be the going rate, the young girls are probably keeping themselves in Gucci sunglasses, or at least their pimps in leather jackets. The 50yr olds are probably just sex addicts and enjoy the company as well as the cash.

After a fascinating hour of exploring this world, I plucked up the courage to call Anneka, a 22yr old.

No answer.

I took it as a sign and decided to watch some porn and attend to myself for yet another night spent alone in a hotel in a far away place.

[Sorry for the lack of posts for the last few months. Due to lack of sex, it gets pretty difficult to blog about wanking yourself stupid in hotel rooms. I'll try harder to find something interesting to do in my life soon, I promise]

 

Sometimes….

Sometimes, all I want to do is kiss. Today, so I am reliably informed by the internet, is National Kissing Day. I suspect, that is a UK thing, but I’m happy to be classed as international for such a worthy cause.

There is something spellbinding about a good kiss. Not your simple good morning peck, or the one you get most days when you walk in through the door after a day at work. They are all well and good, but it is the ones you don’t expect, those that come right out of the blue that make you sink inside your mind and forget the rest of the world is there.

Today is one of those days again for me. I have no thoughts about sex circling my mind, no thoughts of experiencing anything more physical than a good old fashioned snog.

I think it is the physical feeling of two soft mouths connecting. You’ve crossed that line again, you’ve gone beyond that pecking kiss and you are connecting with the person on the other end of your tongue in a way you both submit to, but perhaps didn’t intend to happen. There is something unspoken about the whole thing. But it is the warmth of your mouths, the soft feeling of the moist skin of the other person sliding over yours. Is it physical or mental stimulation that is at work the most? Knowing you are kissing is almost as exciting as the actual act of doing it.

The taste can’t be ignored either. Everyone has their own taste. Maybe you can sense that coffee they just had, or perhaps they have dog breath first thing in the morning (I was with someone about a year ago who had THE most stinking breath first thing in the morning. Simply unbearable). I think I prefer it when the other person has been drinking and you haven’t. That boozy taste in their mouth, their inhibitions are lower than yours are, and for some reason the kiss is always better that way.

My angel had a works party about three christmas’ ago where she got roaring drunk. I was away in Copenhagen at the time and wasn’t expected back until the following day. She’d told me she wasn’t up for the night out with the office, but I suspected she would succumb. I went to surprise her and came home a day early, the night of the party. I texted as I left on my flight, and arrived home about 10pm. The house was empty. I called her phone, but no answer. I texted a few times, no reply. I called again and she answered with an almighty party going on behind her, and she was clearly smashed.

I explained I’d come home early and she was ecstatic, demanding I should have let her know. I went to collect her and she stumbled out of the office, helped along by a 20 something student guy who was working in her team (my mind instantly went to wondering if they’d….another story). We got home and had quite possibly the most amazing sex ever. But it was her kissing that I remember the most vividly. She has never kissed me like that before, and nor has she done it since, despite my best efforts at getting her drunk.

I’d give anything to have a session kissing her like that now.

Gaga

This is really off topic for things I write about on here, but this has been bugging me for a while now.

I can’t be the only person who thinks Lady Gaga’s songs are better when she sings them accapella or acoustic like in this video?

I’m all for a good dance song, don’t get me wrong, but the woman has an amazing voice; really amazing. I just think the world would be a better place if she released an album with nothing but songs sung like this one. Beautiful music in my opinion.

Neighbour

One of the long time wishes of mine has just come true. The benefit of browsing so much porn on the web means the probability of this happening is increased, but I still suspect it is only just above zero. Regardless, I have found the needle in this particular haystack. This image, I am 100% convinced, is of my neighbour. I’ve seen her coming in and out of our block of apartments every day for two years since she moved in, I’ve seen that yellow ball in the garden, I’ve stared at those breasts at every opportunity and I’m convinced they match the profile of the woman. Ladies and gentlemen, I introduce to you, my neighbour:

 

Source:http://bendover.tumblr.com

Of course, this now means as we pass in the stairwell, the conversation may be slightly more complicated.

 

 

 

 

Herb Garden

With my recent activity with Midori, I’ve rediscovered my affection for a great pubic mound. There is something scintillating for me about pubes, but only when you are close up to them. I’m a huge oral addict, a giver rather than a receiver, so I spend a lot of time eye to eye with the herb garden. Being Japanese, Midori has thick, black pubes, that almost form a picture as you look at them.

I’m not quite sure what it is about pubes that attract me. Most other body hair really turns me off, too much pubic hair also drains the blood from my nether regions. But a good solid mound, with enough hair to stroke post orgasm with delicate, smooth strokes really, really turns me on. Over the past few months, I’ve found myself on countless occasions with my head resting on her inner thigh. Her pulse in her groin beating against the side of my head as the orgasm rides itself through her body. I am captivated by the glistening hairs around her pussy, a mixture of moisture from her very wet excitement and from my oral exploits.

I lick each droplet with care, each time my tongue touches her she makes a little shudder and noise that reminds me of her sensitivity. My hand caress her, sliding easily over the wet hairs, new shapes being drawn in them with each pass. She’s fallen asleep twice as I do it, my hand soothing her to the point of release, her mind giving up on remaining conscious. I also woke her up  gently the other day by slowly starting the oral pleasure festival again. Ever so tentatively allowing my mouth to reconnect with her lips and start to tease her back into this world. I love pubes.

Exceptional

I discovered this site today whilst passing the day away on the web when I should have been working. If you like photography or amazing images, then you should definitely pay this site a visit.

I’ve been through the images a handful of times now and I can’t decide which I like the most.