Category: Mental Pictures

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Silk and Roses

She is so pretty! That was my first thought. So slim and innocent, with perfect clear skin and long, thick, corkscrew hair. And her smile! How on earth is someone like this reaching out to someone like me?

Inexperience is nothing to be ashamed of. I have, a few times but less and less as time goes on, made a fuss about age and experience. He was 26 and had never gone down on a girl!?! She was 27 and had never been with a man!?! She was 31 and had never come!?! He was 50 and had never had sex!!?!! These things never *phase* me, but sometimes they still surprise me. Sometimes, my surprise shows, because I have no filter and have internalized beliefs about the world. Oops.

So when she reached out as a young, beautiful, bisexual woman and said she wanted to be with me to get over the hump, as it were, of having sex, I was surprised. And flattered. And excited. And nervous.

You never forget your first. Your first kiss. Your first orgasm. The first time you experience sex you truly want. Being deliberately chosen, *AND PAID* to be someone’s first is a beautiful and heavy responsibility, no matter when it comes in my client’s life.

She was unsure. That she followed up and arrived must have been an internal battle that I”m glad she won. I wondered once or twice if she would change her mind and leave. But she didn’t.

Women are more complicated, more difficult in many ways, than men. Men have this nice, highly visible barometer that tells you clearly and immediately where their sexual desire is*. Women, well, we’re a little more cryptic, and the price for a misjudgment is often higher. When I casually mentioned this, her first thought was to apologize for being more difficult than my other clients. I rarely miss so badly with my words, foolish, self absorbed personality that I can be, haha! Her reaction was such a short hop from what women in the US, particularly shy, pretty ones, are told every day. Don’t be difficult, don’t make anyone’s life harder than it needs to be.

Well fuck that. I want women to own and enjoy their hidden depths! Fuck yeah it’s harder (most of the time) to make a woman come than a man. And to know what’s going to make her come. And to hang on long enough to get it done. Generally, with a penis-having-person, you stroke it up and down. Add lube or a foreskin, a little ball play, and that’s about it. Variations in tempo and pressure, sure, but nothing like the variety in women’s pleasure packaging!

I’ve seen everything from ‘I’m not going to come but that feels nice for now’ to ‘lube your ducking hand and GET IT IN ME’ to ‘Please strap me on this penis shaped rocket and light the fuse’ when it comes to getting women off. I am, very nearly, as clueless as you are, my reader. But what I do have is the ability to read body language.

When someone is nervous, they sweat, they tremble, they avert their eyes, they need a hug and some non-eye-contact cuddling. When someone is comfortable but not aroused, their eyes are bright and willing to make contact, their breath is even, and their speech can be either animated or subdued, but is focused. When someone is aroused in a way that will probably make them come, their hips buck, their breath gets fast and loud, their cheeks (and a lot of other places) get flushed red, often their eyes close, and sometimes they start making noise. These things. I look for these things. If I’m about to go down on someone and they’re giving me nervous signals, I’m going to either stop, or proceed veeeeeeeeeery slowly and check in after making my intentions clear but before actually beginning. Trying to be sexy to someone who is nervous doesn’t work well.

Guys. This is the secret to pleasuring a woman. Not special techniques or ungodly stamina or some fancy toy, just listening to her body and allowing it to dictate where you go.

Sorry. I got a little derailed there.

She was shy, so I am holding the details for myself because I think she would prefer it, but I am compelled to write about the encounter because I think it’s important that inexperienced men and women know that I hold space for you in my practice. That your newness and shyness is charming and sweet and that being chosen to guide you along your sexual journey fills me with pleasure and pride.

So thank you, sweet girl, for trusting me. I hope to see you again and I think it would help but you don’t need it. I saw in you, in only two hours, a little boost of confidence that I think will serve you well. I didn’t treat you the way I did because I was paid to, I did it because you deserve it. You deserve to have input in your pleasure. You deserve to be asked for what you want. You deserve to give and receive the touch you want. You deserve to be with someone who values those things. And also: you’re gonna be great. Whoever you choose to share your self with is a lucky, lucky person.

*About 15% of the time, a boner does not mean what you think it means. I won’t discount this, but I will acknowledge that it’s far more often reliable than not.

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Duo Review: Jules Curie

LOCATION: First my place, then a local hot spot, on the down low.

DATE: June 2018

NAME: Jules Curie

INCALL/OUTCALL: A bit of both

AGENCY OR INDY: Indy, though the back end admin work is driving her mad.

ACCURATE PICTURE: All of them, absolutely.

AGE: Mid thirties

PERSONALITY: Accommodating, a smidge too much sometimes, eager, insatiable.

RACE: Eastern European/Mediterranean

BODY TYPE: Generous, full figured

WEIGHT: I have no idea but what is there, she carries well.

HEIGHT: 5’6”

BUST: Again with the generosity. Every time I see them all I can do is stick my face in them. And they love attention.

WAIST: Well defined between her generous bosom and thick hips.

HIPS: Thick, broad, welcoming.

HAIR: Dark, almost black, a rich chestnut in the sun, with gentle curls.

EYES: Dark chocolate, tempered with a green ring around the iris.

FEET: Clean and painted, sensible but stylish.

SKIN TONE: A bit richer than just a white girl with a tan. Dark gold and glowing.

TRIMMING: As I answer this I realize that I didn’t even notice with my face right there. Haha! Must have been distracted. I think trimmed?

TATTOOS: None

SCARS: None that I noticed

PIERCINGS: Ears

MOLES: I didn’t notice any

BIRTHMARKS: Nothing distracting

CLOTHES: Silk blouses, figure flattering dresses, and an enormous purse.

GLASSES: Nope

MOANER OR A SCREAMER: Moans and words of encouragement. As Lady Vi said: “I’ve never had anyone yell ‘green’ at me before, ha!”

ENERGY LEVEL DURING THE SESSION: High and bottomless.

MULTI SHOTS DURING THE HOUR: For her, absolutely, probably many multi. For you, well that depends on whether you can keep up or not.

ACCEPTS FRENCH: Yes, it is highly encouraged. Put down towels first.

SMOKES: Nope

DRINKS: A bit. Riesling, Port, and other sweet drinks are her favorites.

KISSES: Anywhere that smells impeccably clean, yes.

FRENCH: I will say this is my area of expertise, not hers. She can receive all day long but giving doesn’t carry the same enthusiasm.

GREEK: Nah.

RUSSIAN: Warning: cocks enveloped in this bosom may be larger than they appear. And yeah, she’s wonderfully accommodating so if that’s on your list of things to do, you can.

DO’s or DON’T’s: DO be polite and keep in mind she’s still figuring out the administrative end of things. Don’t skip the shower when you arrive.

WEB-SITE: www.julescurie.ch

SCREENING PROCESS: References only.

PHONE: She will provide at her discretion.

RECOMMEND: If you want to take a woman to bed who truly cannot be exhausted, she is perfect for you. A pure feast for the sexual senses, a never-ending smorgasbord of vanilla ice cream, a bottomless cup of tea.

COMMENTS: I first met Jules during a long distance hangout with a group of college friends. We knew people who knew people and ended up late one night, overindulging, while I told stories. I’m out to this particular group, some of them even read this, so I was answering questions and just talking shop. Towards the end of our group chat, she send me a private message asking to talk. Like many young ladies who dabble with the idea of indulging, she assumed it wasn’t something that could be done safely and independently. When she realized she could have no strings attached sex with a variety of folks AND chip away at student debt a little faster, she knew it was time.

 

…

[In the interest of discretion and because I got awfully carried away describing our day, the rest of this review is password protected. Verified newsletter subscribers have it in their inbox. Hint: look low.]

…

But don’t take my word for it. Look her up and see if you can survive a thousand leagues under the sea. (Did I mention she’s a squirter?)

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Hoo Boy!

I didn’t tell her until after. I didn’t want her to be any more nervous and also I wanted to see if she would guess that she was my first.

Women are very different from men, but past unprofessional conduct with women seems to have prepared me well. A few ladies in the area have let me practice performing FBSM on women, including some variations of sexual touch. I’ve also done a number of duos with ladies all over the city and have attended some unconventional group events that expanded my horizons and gave me some solid tools. Also, I have a pussy I’ve been practicing on for years so that helps.

Women are capable of incredible pleasure, both in quantity and in quality. We have a whole maze of sexual/sensual pathways and, as many of you know, I take great pleasure in traveling them slowly to really take in the scenery.

She was charming, with a broad smile and booty for days. It was such fun to watch her nervous excitement as she filled me in on a bit of her sexual journey and how it brought her to me. I subscribe to the reddit forum /r/deadbedrooms and it’s heartbreaking to hear stories of men and women losing touch with their partners and falling into traps of closed mindedness and anger. This was a different story, a story of an adventurous woman who had nothing left to lose when she and her lover went into a strip club together after a long stretch without sex. Several years later, she and her man have tried swinging and other exciting new sexual endeavors to great effect and this was the next step.

She had read my post about my sexuality as it concerns women women and appreciated my candor. She was curious to see if she had a similar feeling when given the chance to touch and be touched by another woman.

I’ve done this with men, too, who haven’t had a chance to just stare. I’ll turn on the lights and just let them drink in these forbidden images. Sure, porn is great for showing you genitals but really being able to get in there without the distraction of a sexual urge is a novel experience for many. And to then be able to touch!?! Without the pressure to do it ‘right’ right away!?!! So cool.

I also really love taking each other’s clothes off. It’s a little awkward, you giggle a bit, but I feel strongly that it removes a great deal of distance between two strangers. It’s the difference between feeling like an object to be dealt with on my table and feeling like an actual participant. I still don’t allow you to participate TOO much once you’re on the table, but those first few moments…

Se we undressed each other. I had begun to feel a bit of a snuffle that morning so we agreed, much to my disappointment, no kissing. Her lips looked so soft and I want all women to someday experience kissing a woman. Men are hard and pointy and with a charm of their own, but women are soft and smooth and smell nice. It’s truly wonderful. Instead of kissing on the lips, we turned our attention to necks and breasts. There’s always another way, haha!

It seems that nearly every woman in the world likes their nipples played with harder than I do. Take comfort, boys, that I even had to ask this lovely smooth soft woman to take it easy on mine. But that’s what exploring is all about: testing and learning and trying something else until you find what works.

Fortunately my massage training and years of experience made the initial massage part easy, satisfying, and relaxing for her. I like a full body kneading, just luscious cat’s-paw smushing from head to toe, in my massage so that’s what I work towards when giving. I rarely use draping in my work but I made an exception, partly to keep her warm, partly to keep her feeling safe and secure, partly so I could slowly expose more and more of her, seduction by revelation. Once I got her fully exposed, I got to test and see how she liked the full body contact part.

Boys are easy: when they’re excited, they get hard (usually). Girls are even easier: when they’re excited, they breath deeper, move their hips, make little moans, get warmer, sometimes tilt their chins back, curl their toes, close their eyes…. So many little signs and signals, sometimes more subtle than others, but always there. When my warm, coconut oil covered breasts made full contact with her back, I heard a sharp inhale and an immediate change in the tempo and depth her breath. It went from easy and even to shallow and loud. “Oh thank god” I thought to myself, “she likes it!”

I always worry about actually climbing up on top of women. Even though I’m small, it’s still a bit of a vulnerable position. I find it comforting under the right circumstances but the right circumstances don’t always involve strange women in private apartments. I suppose that could depend on how you define ‘strange’ but hey, she liked it so I stuck with it. I will admit there’s something delicious about warm, soft skin enveloping you; I can’t argue with that. And the subtle rhythmic pressure of hips on hips can’t hurt.

I was so pleased. Her enthusiastic and obviously genuine response inspired confidence, pleasure, and a reflexive arousal of my own. There’s something about seeing a woman turned on, flushed with heat, ready, curious.

When she turned over onto her back, I went slowly. I wanted her to want my touch before it arrived, to anticipate it and imagine it, so I kept my hands everywhere except between her thighs. I also needed time to assess her openness to more intimate touch. Rushing sexual touch is an easy way to sabotage a woman’s arousal so I deliberately slowed down. Fortunately, most ladies respond well to vibrating toys and even more fortunately I had one set out. Between that and a few other stocks in trade, we soon found a direct route to a sexual climax or two.

I have visual and aural memories flickering through my head as I write. Things didn’t stay linear, exactly, and I was kind of trying to do a few things at a time, between breasts and thighs and holding on tight as her body moved without control. Since I can’t feel the cocks we were using, I had to go slowly to make sure I didn’t do anything uncomfortable. By the time we were done, however…. well, lets just say that I don’t think anyone was uncomfortable.

In the same way I felt an abrupt change towards arousal earlier on, I now saw an abrupt relaxing, a few even deep breaths, and though I was happy to keep going as long as she wanted to, it seemed like the right time to take a break.

I’ve never been able to recover as quickly as she did and immediately start asking questions. We bonded over cock sucking techniques and I gave her a few tips and tricks that hopefully she can bring home to make good use of. The rest of our time we spent chatting while I rubbed her hands and feet and by the time she went to take a shower and get ready for the rest of her day, I was beaming! To be able to bring that kind of revelatory pleasure to someone… it’s happened a few times before when I’ve been able to edge someone a little and help them achieve an unusually powerful orgasm but to be able to do that for a fellow sexually empowered lady…

She said I had a way of putting her at ease that helped her relax and enjoy herself. She said she hadn’t had an orgasm like that in a long time. She said she thought her partner might like to see me sometime, too 😉 and maybe, once we all three get to know each other a bit, we might all three get together to have some fun.

I, for one, am SO pleased. To know that there are women out there taking control of their sexuality, embracing the power of yes as well as the safety of no, enjoying new experiences, and learning as much as they can. To have the time, space, and experience to help usher folks along, and to get paid for it!?! To have my chosen profession bring myself satisfaction and my clients pleasure and newness? So pleased. So. Fucking. Pleased.

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Naughty Me

I don’t usually do this. Sometimes, when I’m in a wicked mood, I’ll put one knee by each of your ears and stay far enough away that no matter the way you pull and strain, your tongue will never reach. Or perhaps you’re terribly flexible and you sneak a taste, so I slip away, towards your feet, and all your face gets is a view.

But every once in a VERY long while, when we know each other well and I know you’d never walk away disappointed if it stayed just a view, when I’m in a mood and need something wet and hot, I slip down, centimeters at a time, to meet your seeking tongue.

Generally, I’m not a fan of stubbly chins scratching away at the oh so terribly delicate silk of my pussy. Any number of things can keep me from getting in the mood in the first place, and another dozen can take me out once I get there. No mood, no pleasure. I might enjoy it for a while, but inevitably I need a cock.

Today, with memories of lovely cocks and the present reality of yours, in my face, right now, the mood is off the charts. The stars align and the juices flow and I begin to think I just *might* come all over you. Maybe.

Moods come and go and time is running out, my climax is not terribly likely and I’m starting to feel guilty about the powerful sensations my downstairs mixup is unloading onto your lips. It’s time for your ‘happy ending’ and I go for it.

To my surprise, you stop me. Not yet! Muffled, haha! Alright. I’ll bite. You asked for it.

“Slow, gentle, more like you’re teasing than trying for anything.” Good god I love advice that is actually taken. I can feel the adjustment, the mental gear shift, from ‘work it’ to ‘let it grow.’ You asked for it.

I haven’t come in several days. It’s building, my hips are grinding, I put my concern for your poor face from my mind. After all….. you asked for it. I tease myself with your cock in front of my face. I love a good, solid erection. I imagine it pulsing, bathing my hard nipples in glistening white. In my mind’s eye I can see it everywhere, in me, on me, dripping and hot… and with that, I come.

You poor boy. I can nearly feel you gasping. I’m not an *especially* wet lady (compared to some) but it’s impossible not to notice. I’ve been on the receiving end of an orgasming woman and it is always pleasurable, not always pleasant.

I like pressure, little to no movement, during and after an orgasm. Hard to do when I’m straddling your face but you did your best and managed to help extend the orgasm. I very much wish, sometimes, that I could roll over and pass out, the stereotypical man, but it’s just not in me to leave a boy hanging like that!

You take a break to wash your face and I can’t stop laughing. I mean, I feel you, my scent comes on strong sometimes, but you stopped me from making you come earlier, before me, so I have no sympathy. You very much asked for it.

You’ve turned the tables, stroking yourself with my slick oiled belly and straining, thrusting, my one hand on your rigid cock, the other holding you to me. I trust your intention enough to submit. To be below you. To wait for you. To focus and feel, you, ready, almost there, harder, every muscle tight and ready. Release. Relax. At least for a few moments I’ll be fine under your full weight. Take a breath.

I think we both asked for it.

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Two for One

It finally happened!! I saw my first couple!

It’s all too common to hear from a lovely gent that he would like to hire me for a three way with his wife or girlfriend. This was the first time that she agreed to meet me beforehand so I could make sure she was as excited about it as he was. From the moment she agreed, it just kept getting better. Well dressed, brilliant, incredibly sex work positive, and as professional and informative about her sexy experiences as I was, she ticked all my boxes. After a coffee date to assess and plan, we agreed to meet that Friday so we could tease her sweet boyfriend until he exploded.

Ladies intimidate me a little so, though I had met her and had a reasonable idea what I was getting into, I was trembling with nerves. Many of you know I’m a big nerd so finding out they had a game room nearly made me swoon. A few deep breaths later and we three were in the living room, trying to decide how to get started.

First times are always a bit awkward. I had a bit of an idea of the dynamic we were looking for, what with our coffee date and a few hints from the orchestrator but I never pull it off perfectly the first time. We began in my comfort zone: on a massage table. Training and repetition mean I can do lovely things with my hands while reserving my mental space for observation and planning. If you’ve gotten a massage from me before you know I sometimes climb up onto the table so I can use my knees on you. She seemed to enjoy the deep pressure and I can’t imagine he disliked the visual, haha!

When it was his turn I gave her some ideas for gentler touch but it didn’t take long for our poor boy to get far too handsy and need a good tie-down. Fortunately I brought a little sturdy tie-down gear with me, ha! Between the two of us ladies we managed to arrest his naughty hands and render him incapable of taking what he wanted. He would have to wait for us to deem him ready.

Oh and she was wicked fun. Between gifting him a taste of me and making him watch me pleasure her, she pushed his every button while I followed along, getting meaner and meaner as we went. ‘If you can keep from coming from this amazing blowjob, then maybe you might earn a taste of me. Wouldn’t you like that?’

The details blur together but we wound up on the bed, taking our pleasure from such a nice, selfless, obedient young man until we decided we were done. I’ll never forget the sensory overload: her loud climax and his tension, sight and sound and scent and sense, heat and pressure and so! Much pleasure.

I wanted to come for them so much. I tried everything I knew to do but I just couldn’t manage it. Even the sight and sound of her coming right next to me… it’s DEFINITELY helped since then, but in the moment there was too much too fast.

Sigh. Oh well. Better luck next time.

They gave me the most fun and funny visual memory as I was getting ready to leave: her in a sheer robe, eating the chocolate I brought as a gift, him in pajama pants eating a bowl of breakfast cereal. In that moment I felt that I had reached my apex. I’ll never stop growing and learning, but as an escort, I feel that moment will forever shine as a highest point. A couple of fuckin hot as shit nerds invited me over to entertain and pleasure them. I can’t even.

Sigh.

Addendum: I said I had reached my escorting apex but to my great surprise, I found myself enjoying yet another fantastic moment just the other day. I was able to bring my experience and curiosity to its best use; offering advice and techniques to strengthen a lover for their beloved. What a privilege to constantly find a new way to make someone’s life a little better.

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Inspired by a True Story

Such a young man. Young and handsome and at our mercy. Of course, he asked for it. Asked for Sol and I to offer the proper balance of enticement and reward. You see, a B- in Chemistry was an improvement and deserved to be recognized but it was far from the A he needed.

In my dimly lit apartment we waited for Sol as I explained: she was his reward, I was to be his incentive. When she arrived, she and I would lavish him with attention, pleasuring him with our hands and our mouths, reminding him how good success feels. Once sufficiently enticed, I would lie on my massage table while the two of them would admire me with hands and eyes, but no satisfaction would be allowed. Not for him and not for me. Not yet.

When I felt he was sufficiently educated on the rewards of excellent academic performance, they would fuck until she was finished. She would present her generous ass for him while I watched carefully and found her clit for him. Young men, silly boys, always in need of a little more education. First they fucked for me, so I could watch and enjoy them. Then they fucked for her, so she could soak him in come and collapse. She’s a loud girl so he should be prepared.

My eyes and her pussy, satisfied, would finally give permission. He could come now. He had his lesson, his reward for work well done and his temptation towards greater performance.

Silly boy, lay down and let me fuck you. Let me ride you until your cock throbs, comes, falls away. You deserve it. You earned it.

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Amie and Adelle All Night Long

Your best friend is a great guy, but it’s clear that he is unable to satisfy his wife the way she needs it, it’s only a matter of time before she realizes it and comes to you. But waiting is hard, when every time she sees you, at every barbecue and game night and casual dinner out with friends, she teases you. She has made it clear; she’s a tease and doesn’t expect to get called on it.

“Hey, your furnace went out last year didn’t it? What did you do to fix it?” “Well I started by troubleshooting the -“ “you know what, why don’t you just drop by this afternoon? Marie and I will be getting ready and you can take a look at it. There are cookies in it for you.” And she winked. You could hear it over the phone.

When you took her that afternoon, she put up resistance at first. No, we can’t do this, Marie will see. No, we can’t… you can’t. But her flimsy protestations, her token resistance, melted under the heat of months of suppressed passion. Hours of teasing comments and flirtatious gestures…

“Can he satisfy you like this!? Admit it, he can’t fuck you like this, can he!” “No!” She sobs, “he can’t!” “You’ve been a little tease for a little too long. Did you really think I didn’t see it?” “I never thought you’d do anything about it. I just thought… oh god.”

Just as her cries turned into throaty growls, you see Marie in the doorway, astonished and silent. “You like what you see, don’t you?” She nodded. “Get naked. You’re next.” Obedient, she peeled off her satin thong just as you feel an orgasming pussy wrap around your cock, pulsing and wet.

“Good girl. You won’t tease me anymore, will you? Or tell anyone? Or stop watching while I fuck your best friend? I didn’t think so.”

***

Never, ever fuck anyone when they’re saying no, unless, of course, you’ve hired two highly sexual, creative, playful ladies to help your fantasy of fucking your best friends’ wives into submission become real.

Adelle and I had the incredible privilege of bringing a fantasy to life the other night and in the process, of allowing nuance into someone’s sexuality. To allow someone who would never actually enjoy fucking someone against their will, because they’re a human being with empathy and a sense of decency, to experience a close approximation. To experience power and control in a safe, sane, and consensual way, without damaging relationships or people.

Watching Adelle encourage our gentleman friend to elaborate on what can be an embarrassing or scary fantasy and then helping her make it real for him was an intoxicating mix of discovery, curiosity, and a hell of a lot of sexy.

Our evening began with cocktails that we brought up to the generous hotel room he acquired for us. Slightly buzzed, we entertained our fantasies, then went back down to fill our tummies with delicious food and drink. When we made it back up to the room, we investigated the volume of the bathtub (adequate) and soaked until midnight in soapy suds, champagne, and conversation.

5:30 am and I feel an urgency, a hard cock, waking me up. Now, if it were just he and I, I’d have asked for a few more hours first but I can fall asleep again easily and since I had someone to tag team with later in the morning, I got to say ‘why not?’ Instead of ‘why now?’ In the middle of our early morning adventure, I could see her watching us, sleepy eyed and smiling, enjoying the sounds of sex and also that it was someone else making them at that hour.

Sure enough, a few hours later, me still half asleep, they took each other next to me, moaning and gasping while I enjoyed the tableau. I couldn’t help myself; I couldn’t stay asleep with a beautiful, hard cock right there! As many of my readers know quite well, I love to orally pleasure any and all cocks that make themselves available (and belong to great folks) so I begged and bullied my way into their half of the bed.

The details escape me but we all wound up both happy and hungry. Room service fixed the hunger and a trio of mimosas took us to the hotel’s hot tub to while away our last half hour.

Packing up gave us a short, sexy stroll down memory lane: condom wrappers and Christmas lights, candles and chocolate sauce, a few half bottles and a hefty tip for housekeeping.

If my face looked anything like theirs, I had a giant grin plastered all over it and a rosy flush underneath. Pleasure, passion, joy, naughty stories, and a few orgasms made their way through all of us through the night and I have it in good authority that everyone had an amazing time.

You, too, could enjoy this experience, with a bit of planning and a flat fee based on the when and how long.

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Work It!

She’s in such good shape! You’re embarrassed, shy, you know that beer gut shouldn’t be there and she’s going to see you all red and sweaty and it’s going to take everything you have not to stare at her all stuffed into spandex.

But your kids have gifted you ten personal training sessions and you’ve known for a while that you weren’t in the shape you’d like so you grit your teeth, mentally prepare yourself, and for the next fifty minutes you huff and puff and try to keep up with her.

“You did great! You’re gonna be so strong once I’m done with you.” And she beams at you the widest, most sparkling smile you’ve ever seen. Suddenly the agony of that last hour melts away, just for a second, just long enough to stick in your memory.

Ten sessions later and you’ve already noticed a difference. Stairs aren’t so annoying anymore and your pants don’t quite pull so hard at their button. And your instructor… the same brilliant smile every week, the same spandex, the smell of her as she stands next to you, encouraging you and talking you through your form.

Ten more.

Ten more.

Ten more.

You must be imagining it. She’s getting closer. She stopped wearing a loose shirt over her sports bra. She even started running on the treadmill beside you and caught you stealing glances. She smiles. Not just the brilliant, glowing smiles at the end, encouraging you to come back but smaller ones, looking at your ‘form’ as you lunge and squat and lift and fly.

“You know, I think you’re ready to graduate to more intense training” she tells you one day.

Is this…. It can’t be. But that look…. You used to get that look, when you spent a summer teaching bored, wealthy women to play tennis. The look that says “And by intensive training I mean enthusiastic sex.” But you haven’t gotten that look in years! No one looks at you like that anymore. Except you’ve seen yourself in the mirrors in the gym. You’ve seen inches disappear and muscles emerge that you also haven’t been seen in years. Maybe you are getting that look again…

“Well, you’re the professional” you answer, and give a nervous chuckle. You don’t want to make the wrong assumption and end up making a scene. “If you think I’m ready then I must be! What, uh, what does ‘more intense training’ look like?”

That is *definitely* the look.

“How does your schedule look Tuesday evening? Is seven too late?”

Your automatic reply: “But the gym closes at six.”

“I have a key.”

The look again

“Oh. Ooooh. Yes, seven on Tuesday.”

What the hell are you doing? It’s Tuesday morning and you still haven’t called it off. What if you get caught? What if you misread the situation? What if…. What if all the images and scenarios playing through your mind, over and over, for two days, what if they become real? You’ve been hard very nearly every moment since. At this point if you don’t go, you’re worried your cock will beat you to death in your sleep.

So you go.

The parking lot is empty but for a few cars and there’s a light on inside. As you approach the building, all the worry and concerns fade away. You’re committed now, no use stressing over it. If you’re wrong, you’ll deal with it. The note on the door says “Lock the door behind you and go to the green room” so you flip the lock and head down the hall.

***

Whipping them into shape is my favorite. There’s something both humbling and powerful about watching some schlubby dude accidentally get in shape while staring at my ass three times a week. I know they don’t stick around for my workouts. I’m good at managing, pushing enough, not too much. And sometimes, when the flab and the years of insecurity layered on by wives and girlfriends and the rest of the world gets beaten back, that hot young piece of ass he used to be comes back. That’s my favorite. That’s when I really get to have fun with them.

This guy is one of those. He came in beaten and dejected, hopelessly resigned, his flat abs a memory, firm ass long gone. And yet… Every week I watched and noticed him moving more easily, lifting heavier, keeping up better and better. And every week I could feel myself responding to him more and more.

Exercise is my most powerful aphrodisiac. Very few of my clients know how much they turn me on, that I’m using them, the smell of them, the sweat and grunting, to build fantasies every night. Lying in bed at home alone I replay my favorite gym sessions over and over in my mind’s eye. I watch them notice me noticing. I can see them regain their pride as I whip them into shape. I love telling men what to do; giving them the backbone they couldn’t find themselves and making them do what’s best for them. I use a carefully curated mix of encouragement, sexual enticements, and the invaluable reward of my approval to get them just where I like them.

This guy is finally just where I want him and soon he’ll be in this room with me, under my complete control, ready to sweat and grunt and pleasure me exactly the way I like it.

***

I set the scene perfectly, I already know what we’ll do and how he’ll respond. I get a kick out of shocking them so I don’t leave any transition time for them to get comfortable in between. The biggest shock comes first: from the moment they walk in the door until the moment they leave, I’m naked. Nakedness is the simplest way to throw a man off balance. I know they’ve been imagining it and I know they’re expecting it eventually but totally unselfconscious nakedness right from the get-go makes them so nervous. I love it.

There’s two of everything so I can make them keep up with me and watch while they do it. I’m not so foolish as to embarrass them but I never let them quite keep up. I am always in control, always the desirable end game, always just barely out of their reach so that when I do take them, it’s the richest, sweetest reward.

I can hear him in the hallway. Or someone with a nervous gait, at least. There’s always the chance the wrong person will walk through the door. I kind of like that. I revel in the shock on his face the moment he walks through the door.

“Take off your clothes, put on your shoes, and join me. Make sure you can see to follow.” As if he needed encouragement or permission to watch me move through an easy warmup routine. Movement, stretching, walking the line between overtly sexual and perfectly professional. He’s done all this before but he’s off-balance, unfocused. I don’t let him see my wicked grin every time his balance slips or he takes too long to start a new movement. We finish with partner stretches. First contact.

I’ve set the ellipticals to watch each other. I want to see the first beads of sweat on his forehead and his struggle to coordinate arm to leg as he tries to watch every part of me at the same time. I want to watch his muscles slip past each other and begin to swell and pump. I want to follow the drops of sweat with my eyes as they trail down his chest, those gorgeous abs, leaving wet trails through his dark hair, and slip past the base of his cock where, soon, my own sweat and the sweet wet of my pussy will be.

I allow myself an evil chuckle, watching his half hard cock wobble with every step. I do love a grower.

Now for the fun part. Weights. Nothing too heavy. I’m not pushing his body today, I’m pushing his mind.

Standing bicep curl. I’m behind him, pressed against him with my hands sliding around his hips to cup his cock. My face pressed into his back is salty and wet, my nipples sting with it and send an electric shock to my clit. I’ve been wet since the elliptical, slow drips running down my thigh, filling the room with a hot, sweet scent.

Chest press. I’m sitting on him, rocking my clit back and forth on his cock to keep it wet. He’s rock hard, distracted as shit, but I gave him light weights and with this angle I can give him instructions while I work myself up to my first orgasm of the evening.

Curl ups. I’m standing straddling him so every time he curls I tell him to taste me.

If I can’t reach his cock with my pussy I get my face in it, soaking up the musky scent. If I can’t get my face near it, I use my hands. No matter what he’s doing or where he goes, his cock is my toy. We go through my list, designed to touch every muscle at least once so I can see it work, watch it move, perfect its form.

“One last round of cardio. You’ve got this!” And I bend at my hips to hold tight to the frame, inviting him to sink his cock, the cock that’s been begging all evening, deep into me. I’ve been ready for so long, it almost hurts. I can feel myself swollen and throbbing and dripping, as his hard cock presses my pussy apart. I can feel every vein, every ridge, every sleek and smooth inch as he fills me. I can feel his flat hips bump up against my firm cheeks, then again, again, feeling the exquisite sensation of his cock sliding back and forth past my hot, slick lips.

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Fantastic Bodywork

A fantastical imagining. To be taken as an inspiration, not a promise.

 

The apartment is dim; I’ve pulled a heavy curtain across my large window. There are a fed tea lights burning here and there, adding a flickering glow. The layout is a bit awkward, walking through the kitchen before reaching the icing room but once there, the lounge jazz and low light facilitate the kind of conversation that only fills space while I unbutton your cuffs.

Your voice is low, relaxed. You’ve been here before, you know what to expect and you’re looking forward to taking a load off. Our clothes slip to the floor, piece by piece, interspersed with gentle kisses and soft caresses.

“Would you like me to torture you with anticipation or do you prefer I do something about this and let you relax in post-orgasmic bliss?”

“I’m having trouble focusing right now.” You chuckle.

“Then I think I’d like to keep that up. Come lie down.”

I draw the massage table away from the wall where it’s been waiting, dark and inviting. “face down to start.”

From the moment you lie down your heart slows. Breath slows, movement slows, each moment drawing itself longer and longer as you sink into that state of not-awake but not-asleep. Your mind drifts. You feel warm oil and my strong, tiny hand smoothing it over your shoulders, your back, your ass, your legs, teasing with my fingertips a little as I pass your hips.

I start on one side, just above your hip, lifting and kneading your muscles as I sweep my gesture up and down your back, covering every inch of you with kitty-paw massage. If you looked to one side you’d see me in my mirror, clear smooth skin from head to toe, breast swinging, perky bottom braced to give you deep, firm pressure. On occasion you feel a nipple lightly graze your back or a small quite kiss on the back of your neck.

My kneading hands move down your body, giving careful attention to each muscle group. trapezius, latissimus, gluteals, hamstrings, calves… slow. Perfect. Mesmerizing. Each song blends into the next and your mind drifts.

As I finish one final pass, one long, slow stroke from your soles to your shoulders and back, I break contact.

You hear oil pouring but don’t feel it.

You hear me step around to one side. Feel my fingertips brush one thigh. Notice the table shift a bit as I draw myself up, one slow controlled movement, and slide my firm breasts, my soft belly, the curls at my groin, me knees, across your body. Sometimes you feel my fully weight pressing you, a long deep exhale with the comforting weight of a tiny beautiful woman settling onto your back. Sometimes you can only feel the light softness of my feminine curves meeting your skin here and there. Hot breath on your ear, tiny giggles, deep strokes of my knees across those long muscles by your spine. Slow. Controlled. A fine dance, a slow motion jungle gym, pressing, moving, stroking, teasing.

I can feel you when I slip my fingers between your legs. That sweet spot hidden there under, between the family jewels and your shooting star. I can feel your erection as it disappears into you. I can feel you hard, ready, waiting.

“How do you feel about turning over onto your back?” I whisper into your ear. All I get is a smile in response.

It takes a moment as I stand at the foot of the table, watching your muscles move as you turn. A few inelegant flops and you’re resting on your back, your proud, hard cock staring us both in the face. I turn my attention from you to your cock. For a moment, I get to objectify you, turn you into a vehicle for my desire. We lock eyes and I climb up onto the table, onto you, my breasts brushing and pressing up against you, until we lie, me over you, lips locked, my body shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh, pressed up against you.

With one talented hand I draw you close but not over the edge. I hear your silence turned to heavy breath, quiet moans, I feel my own body responding, images leaping to mind, the sensations in my hand translating into my pussy, an echo of penetration. So close, but so far.

We come close to the edge together, my warm hips grinding on your thigh as my hand, slick and hot with oil, an echo of my wet lips, brings you closer, closer, slowly, until I feel that moment, the moment when you’re so full you throb, the moment I hear your moans turn to words “Oh my god.” Yes, your goddess, your sensual treasure, we ratchet each other’s arousal higher and higher with each breath until I feel you shudder, throb, splash us both with hot, slippery come.

We ride your waves together. I know better than to touch the sensitive rim but everything else is fair game. Pressure, subtle movement to keep the waves coming, keep your orgasm going as long as I can. I want you to feel the way I feel when I come.

A deep breath out, a smile, a giggle. Hot damp towels and deep working your hands or feet or shoulders. I can see the tension seep out of you. You eyes are closed; you’re just enjoying the afterglow, the moment of rest before you have to rejoin the world.

A shower, a glass of water, a piece of chocolate, and you’re on your way again. Relaxed. Revived.