I lust me some Jill Kelly. What's not to like? Blonde hair, big tits, gorgeous ass, long legs, a slutty twinkle in her eye...yummmmMY!
November 30, 2007
My Favorite Pornstars: Jill Kelly
I lust me some Jill Kelly. What's not to like? Blonde hair, big tits, gorgeous ass, long legs, a slutty twinkle in her eye...yummmmMY!
November 26, 2007
Kate
This is Kate from Oakland, CA. Although you wouldn't know it from her picture, she's given me the ABSOLUTELY BEST BLOWJOBS to date.
I saw (okay, fucked) Kate several times from 1998-2004. I first heard of her via a website called the World Sex Guide, which was apparently one of the earliest escort review sites. All of her reviews said pretty much the same thing: that she wasn't top-drawer in the looks department, but made up for it with long, leisurely sessions (as opposed to the strict 45 mins to 1 hour encounters I'd had with Susan, Toni and Suzanne) and incredible cocksucking skills.
Well, hell, sign me up!
Kate lived in an über-cluttered high-rise apartment with three cats in a reasonably safe part of Oakland, and charged (at the time) $180 for an appointment. Yeah, this was more than I'd ever paid (again, at the time), but I was also making a lot more money than when I saw Susan and besides, my little head was doing the thinking. At the time, Kate seemed to be in her mid-40s, and had a slim body which was speckled with moles and skin blotches.
Our encounters were indeed long and leisurely. For the first 60 or 90(!) minutes, we'd sit in her living room, which looked like a staging ground for a white elephant sale, and chat over beer which I bought for the occasion. Kate was well-read and traveled and had an easy laugh, even if she seemed like she was on Thorazine half the time. Sometimes she'd break out a coffee table book of European porno (presumably to set the mood) and we'd page through it and discuss the goings-on within. Eventually I'd make my move on her, leaning in for a few kisses and stroking her thigh or breast. I should mention here that her kisses were all of the barely-open-mouth type, which was disappointing. I would try to snake my tongue into her mouth to get her to open up, but no dice. Anyway, after a few minutes of this, Kate would smile and ask me if I wanted to go into the other room, which of course I did.
Once in the bedroom, she'd put on some light jazz and we'd undress. Sometimes she wore a black garter belt and nylons, other times nothing at all. More light kissing and the usual rubbing and grinding. And then Kate would work her way down my body and slip my cock into her mouth.
OMG!!!!! This was head at its best...the kind of blowjob where you actually DON'T want to cum, but just enjoy the feel of a woman's mouth like a warm wet tunnel for your cock for hours...and hours...and hours. I would just lie there and moan with pleasure.
Naturally I always returned the favor. I would eat Kate's well-manicured pussy for a good long time. Even though I was doing it through Saran Wrap (I was still afraid of catching something), Kate would writhe and grab my hair and voice her pleasure in sob-like cries that rose in volume until I was afraid the neighbors would come knocking.
Oh, yeah, then we'd start fucking. For an older woman, Kate had a wonderfully tight pussy. I especially liked doing her doggie-style because her ass would fit perfectly against my pelvis as I pounded her. I'd grab her hips and tell her that she wasn't getting away from me until she "took" my cock. I liked to pretend that Kate, being an older gal, was lonely and desperate for a young stud's cock, and that I was here to fill her up. I'd bang away until I came and then we'd lie in each other's arms, lightly kissing and stroking each other until hopping back on the horse for another round. These encounters would last an hour to 90 minutes. Add that to the time we spent chatting beforehand and I basically spent 2-1/2 to 3 hours with this wonderful woman. I never did try to do her anally, though. I don't know why. She might have said yes.
Even though it's been over 3 years since I last saw Kate, I actually spoke to her early in 2006 when I needed a reference for a new provider I wanted to visit in L.A. On the phone, she was just as warm and friendly as ever, and gladly provided a reference for me. I promised to see her if I ever found myself up in NorCal with some free time, and when I got off the phone, I realized I had a chubby in my pants.
November 25, 2007
November 19, 2007
Toni and Suzanne
After seeing Susan an average of once a month for the better part of a year, I decided I'd like to try a different flavor. Don't get me wrong, getting to fuck a tall, blonde with big tits was great, but as they say, variety is the spice of life. By now I also felt a lot more confident, both sexually and as a "patron". So I went back to THE SPECTATOR in search of a new conquest. I also started perusing the San Francisco Bay GUARDIAN's classified section for women who would fit the bill.
I found what I was looking for in two different women, each of whom I visited at different times. The first was Toni, who was probably in her mid-40s, with short dark hair and vaguely Italian features. She was petite, shorter than me, a little chubby, with MASSIVE natural tits, and a warm sensuality about her. I saw Toni a couple of times at her apartment, where for $100, we indulged in comfortable sex that was more like "making love" than straight-up, porn-style banging. I suppose this was due to the fact that Toni would plant warm kisses on my neck, chest, and face while we enjoyed each other. No kissing on the mouth, but as I said, I was still under the impression that this was verboten, so I wasn't too disappointed. It was with Toni that I discovered my fondness for sex with women considerably older than myself; I've found that they bring an unhurried type of passion to the experience that is a huge turn-on.
Toni was also the first escort I visited who invited me to lick her pussy...unprotected. Susan had let me eat her, but only through (of all things) Saran Wrap, employed as a dental dam. I'm afraid to say I declined, because I was afraid of catching something. Sure, her pussy looked fine, nice and hairy, and it smelled clean, but I just couldn't go through with it.
Next I paid a visit to Suzanne, a chubby brunette in her mid 20s, who had an average body and advertised as a "sensual masseuse." She conducted business in an empty apartment in a scary-looking building in the Tenderloin; there was an old mattress on the floor and not much else. Suzanne also had some blotchy red welts on her legs, back, and big ass that made me a little nervous, but I was horny and she didn't seem threatening. I let her massage me and then got on top of her, sucking her big floppy tits, licking my way down her body, and so on.
WHOA! I hit the brakes when I came within sniffing distance of her pussy. Yup, it STUNK. I nearly gagged. I'd never smelled anything so bad before. There was no way I was going to lick that cooze, much less put my cock in it. Oh well...I figured I could at least get a blowjob out of this encounter, so I asked Suzanne to go down on me. She consented and performed passable bareback fellatio on my rod, finally switching to a handjob when I announced that I was cumming. My load shot high into the air and all over her hand.
"Wow," she said, "you really spurted."
I thanked Suzanne, paid up, got dressed and told her I'd call her again. She actually handed me a pink business card that said "Tina Suzanne Miller" and gave her phone number. I kept it for a while afterward, then threw it away because, let's be honest...that smell had knocked me for a loop.
I found what I was looking for in two different women, each of whom I visited at different times. The first was Toni, who was probably in her mid-40s, with short dark hair and vaguely Italian features. She was petite, shorter than me, a little chubby, with MASSIVE natural tits, and a warm sensuality about her. I saw Toni a couple of times at her apartment, where for $100, we indulged in comfortable sex that was more like "making love" than straight-up, porn-style banging. I suppose this was due to the fact that Toni would plant warm kisses on my neck, chest, and face while we enjoyed each other. No kissing on the mouth, but as I said, I was still under the impression that this was verboten, so I wasn't too disappointed. It was with Toni that I discovered my fondness for sex with women considerably older than myself; I've found that they bring an unhurried type of passion to the experience that is a huge turn-on.
Toni was also the first escort I visited who invited me to lick her pussy...unprotected. Susan had let me eat her, but only through (of all things) Saran Wrap, employed as a dental dam. I'm afraid to say I declined, because I was afraid of catching something. Sure, her pussy looked fine, nice and hairy, and it smelled clean, but I just couldn't go through with it.
Next I paid a visit to Suzanne, a chubby brunette in her mid 20s, who had an average body and advertised as a "sensual masseuse." She conducted business in an empty apartment in a scary-looking building in the Tenderloin; there was an old mattress on the floor and not much else. Suzanne also had some blotchy red welts on her legs, back, and big ass that made me a little nervous, but I was horny and she didn't seem threatening. I let her massage me and then got on top of her, sucking her big floppy tits, licking my way down her body, and so on.
WHOA! I hit the brakes when I came within sniffing distance of her pussy. Yup, it STUNK. I nearly gagged. I'd never smelled anything so bad before. There was no way I was going to lick that cooze, much less put my cock in it. Oh well...I figured I could at least get a blowjob out of this encounter, so I asked Suzanne to go down on me. She consented and performed passable bareback fellatio on my rod, finally switching to a handjob when I announced that I was cumming. My load shot high into the air and all over her hand.
"Wow," she said, "you really spurted."
I thanked Suzanne, paid up, got dressed and told her I'd call her again. She actually handed me a pink business card that said "Tina Suzanne Miller" and gave her phone number. I kept it for a while afterward, then threw it away because, let's be honest...that smell had knocked me for a loop.
November 16, 2007
November 14, 2007
Suddenly, Susan (Part 2)
So, back to the tale of my first pay-for-play session...
I forgot to mention earlier that I actually made my initial call to Susan from my workplace, and that our appointment was during my lunch hour.
Lunch hour arrived and I swung by an ATM, then made my way to Susan's "office" (she'd answered the phone saying "Tenth Street Counseling"), situated in what appeared to be an old-ass Victorian house located in the SOMA district of San Francisco. Not a posh neighborhood by any means, but not a combat zone either. I quickly scanned the immediate area in front of the house for undercover vice cops on stakeout (like I'd recognize them) and went up to the door. During this entire time I was hot and flushed like a guilty schoolboy. Two trains of thought careened through my head; one was an absolute conviction that everyone on the street knew I WAS GOING TO SEE A PROSTITUTE. The second was something like "OhmyGod I'm gonna get laid get laid get laid..."
I pressed the buzzer and after a moment the door opened slightly; a tall blonde woman in her (I'm guessing) early 30s with a half-asleep expression peeked around it. "Hell-o," she said in a singsong lilt. Only her face was visible; I'm guessing this was a protective measure on her part; she'd be able to slam the door on me if I did anything crazy.
"Hi, how you doin'?" I said. Looking back, I know I didn't exactly come across as friendly, but that's because I was scared. Was someone else waiting just inside the door with a knife/gun/lead pipe? Were vice cops moving in to bust me the second money was mentioned? And most importantly, was "Susan" a guy? (Yes, I'd seen RISKY BUSINESS)
Susan opened the door wider and let me in. We were at the bottom of a staircase. "It's nice to meet you," she said, and closed the door behind me. "Come on up." She headed up the stairs and I could see that she was about 5' 9" with generous healthy curves in the right places. Not a supermodel, but not bad either. She looked like an office worker in a long-sleeved blouse and sensible skirt and shoes. As I followed her up I got a perfect view of her ass, which swayed with each step and was nice and round. I thought about reaching out and grabbing it, but refrained. That might not be cool, I thought. From my viewing of WORKING GIRLS, I knew that these ladies didn't appreciate being treated like meat.
We ended up in a thinly carpeted room that was empty except for a futon on the floor, an electric clock, small easy chair, and a music box that had one of those jointed cutout clowns in a window that danced when a drawer was opened (I'm not sure what that was for). The shades were drawn and the room was dimly lit thanks to a small lamp next to the futon.
I sat down on the futon. Susan slipped her shoes off and sat on the floor next to me. I got a better view of her body and could definitely tell she wasn't a guy. And her ad hadn't been lying about her being busty. Through her blouse, I could tell her tits were generous...not massive, but still an ample size.
We made small talk. About what, I don't recall. Susan then told me, in a polite but all-business tone, that I could either pay her now or afterward. Wanting to demonstrate my good faith, I handed her my five 20s. She put the cash away while I confessed my fears about being busted or attacked. She smiled and put a reassuring hand on my thigh. "There's nothing here that's going to hurt you," she purred, "shall we get comfortable?"
I knew that was the cue to undress, and did so without hesitation. Even though I was getting more excited with every passing second, I was still nervous. This was, after all, my FIRST TIME. Susan took off her clothes and at last I got to see those tits of hers. They were full, pendulant, and topped with large, yummy-looking nipples and aureolae. She sat down next to me on the futon.
But there was still more business to take care of. "Do you mind if I check you out?" she asked. I consented, a little confused, but then she took my cock in one hand and the small floor lamp in the other. Training the light on my schlong, Susan examined my little soldier with a clinical eye. She even squeezed the head gently so my peehole opened slightly. She was examining me for signs of STDs. What a smart, careful girl.
"Everything okay?" I asked.
She released me and put the lamp aside. "Yeah, you look great," she said. Susan sighed a porno star's faux sigh of pleasure, took one of my hands and put it on one of her tits.
Game ON!
I practically lunged forward and started kissing and fondling her tits, savoring the feel of them, like firm balloons, in my mouth. After 25 years of drought, I was getting TITS AT LAST! I kissed her neck, working my way upward.
"Do you mind if I kiss you?" I asked.
"Maybe when I get to know you better," she replied matter-of-factly. I was disappointed but knew that kissing was considered off-limits in this arena, so I resumed feasting on her boobs and sliding my hot little hands all over her body.
After a few minutes, Susan asked, "Do you want me to give you a treat?"
I KNEW what she meant. I was going to get a BLOWJOB! "Yes," I panted.
Susan then picked up a condom from next to the clock and opened it. With practiced movements I would go on to see demonstrated by many more escorts to come, she slipped the condom over my cock with her fingers and mouth. She then started bobbing her head up and down as I grew bigger. Her mouth felt warm.
I couldn't believe it. A woman was sucking MY COCK. Wow.
Several more minutes went by, and then Susan lifted her head and asked, "Do you want to try something else?"
I answered in the affirmative. She lay back and parted her thighs, using two fingers to spread her pussy lips open. I awkwardly got on top of her and she helped me insert my semi-hard penis into her.
Because I wasn't fully erect, I didn't get the full effect, so to speak, but it was enough. I slid onto her and slid my hands under her arms, grasping her shoulders as I humped her, panting hungrily.
"I want you to come," she gasped, "I want you to come now."
I'd like to say that I lasted a long time, but I didn't. I came in about a minute. But I didn't care. I was now officially NO LONGER A VIRGIN!!!!!
We uncoupled, I pulled off the condom, and Susan lit a cigarette. "Is this the first time you've had intercourse?" she asked.
"Yes," I replied, still glowing in the triumph of having gotten laid at last.
We chatted a little more until I noticed my hour was just about up. We both got dressed and she gave me a hug. "Come see me again," she invited. I said I would, then practically floated down the stairs, out the door, and back to work. I was sure everyone could tell by my face that I'd finally FUCKED A GIRL. I remembered the movie DEAD POETS SOCIETY where Robin Williams tells his students about something called "Yawp!", which represented a feeling of overwhelming exhilaration.
Well, that's how I felt. YAWP!!!!
I would go on to see Susan several more times over the next couple of years. She would introduce me to the joys of eating pussy and tit-fucking. Although we never did make out and I never got to do things with her (or to her) that I'd do with other escorts, she was an excellent first step on my sexual journey. Last I heard, she'd left the business and had finally realized her goal of becoming a therapist. I'll always remember her with fondness...and a big hard-on.
I forgot to mention earlier that I actually made my initial call to Susan from my workplace, and that our appointment was during my lunch hour.
Lunch hour arrived and I swung by an ATM, then made my way to Susan's "office" (she'd answered the phone saying "Tenth Street Counseling"), situated in what appeared to be an old-ass Victorian house located in the SOMA district of San Francisco. Not a posh neighborhood by any means, but not a combat zone either. I quickly scanned the immediate area in front of the house for undercover vice cops on stakeout (like I'd recognize them) and went up to the door. During this entire time I was hot and flushed like a guilty schoolboy. Two trains of thought careened through my head; one was an absolute conviction that everyone on the street knew I WAS GOING TO SEE A PROSTITUTE. The second was something like "OhmyGod I'm gonna get laid get laid get laid..."
I pressed the buzzer and after a moment the door opened slightly; a tall blonde woman in her (I'm guessing) early 30s with a half-asleep expression peeked around it. "Hell-o," she said in a singsong lilt. Only her face was visible; I'm guessing this was a protective measure on her part; she'd be able to slam the door on me if I did anything crazy.
"Hi, how you doin'?" I said. Looking back, I know I didn't exactly come across as friendly, but that's because I was scared. Was someone else waiting just inside the door with a knife/gun/lead pipe? Were vice cops moving in to bust me the second money was mentioned? And most importantly, was "Susan" a guy? (Yes, I'd seen RISKY BUSINESS)
Susan opened the door wider and let me in. We were at the bottom of a staircase. "It's nice to meet you," she said, and closed the door behind me. "Come on up." She headed up the stairs and I could see that she was about 5' 9" with generous healthy curves in the right places. Not a supermodel, but not bad either. She looked like an office worker in a long-sleeved blouse and sensible skirt and shoes. As I followed her up I got a perfect view of her ass, which swayed with each step and was nice and round. I thought about reaching out and grabbing it, but refrained. That might not be cool, I thought. From my viewing of WORKING GIRLS, I knew that these ladies didn't appreciate being treated like meat.
We ended up in a thinly carpeted room that was empty except for a futon on the floor, an electric clock, small easy chair, and a music box that had one of those jointed cutout clowns in a window that danced when a drawer was opened (I'm not sure what that was for). The shades were drawn and the room was dimly lit thanks to a small lamp next to the futon.
I sat down on the futon. Susan slipped her shoes off and sat on the floor next to me. I got a better view of her body and could definitely tell she wasn't a guy. And her ad hadn't been lying about her being busty. Through her blouse, I could tell her tits were generous...not massive, but still an ample size.
We made small talk. About what, I don't recall. Susan then told me, in a polite but all-business tone, that I could either pay her now or afterward. Wanting to demonstrate my good faith, I handed her my five 20s. She put the cash away while I confessed my fears about being busted or attacked. She smiled and put a reassuring hand on my thigh. "There's nothing here that's going to hurt you," she purred, "shall we get comfortable?"
I knew that was the cue to undress, and did so without hesitation. Even though I was getting more excited with every passing second, I was still nervous. This was, after all, my FIRST TIME. Susan took off her clothes and at last I got to see those tits of hers. They were full, pendulant, and topped with large, yummy-looking nipples and aureolae. She sat down next to me on the futon.
But there was still more business to take care of. "Do you mind if I check you out?" she asked. I consented, a little confused, but then she took my cock in one hand and the small floor lamp in the other. Training the light on my schlong, Susan examined my little soldier with a clinical eye. She even squeezed the head gently so my peehole opened slightly. She was examining me for signs of STDs. What a smart, careful girl.
"Everything okay?" I asked.
She released me and put the lamp aside. "Yeah, you look great," she said. Susan sighed a porno star's faux sigh of pleasure, took one of my hands and put it on one of her tits.
Game ON!
I practically lunged forward and started kissing and fondling her tits, savoring the feel of them, like firm balloons, in my mouth. After 25 years of drought, I was getting TITS AT LAST! I kissed her neck, working my way upward.
"Do you mind if I kiss you?" I asked.
"Maybe when I get to know you better," she replied matter-of-factly. I was disappointed but knew that kissing was considered off-limits in this arena, so I resumed feasting on her boobs and sliding my hot little hands all over her body.
After a few minutes, Susan asked, "Do you want me to give you a treat?"
I KNEW what she meant. I was going to get a BLOWJOB! "Yes," I panted.
Susan then picked up a condom from next to the clock and opened it. With practiced movements I would go on to see demonstrated by many more escorts to come, she slipped the condom over my cock with her fingers and mouth. She then started bobbing her head up and down as I grew bigger. Her mouth felt warm.
I couldn't believe it. A woman was sucking MY COCK. Wow.
Several more minutes went by, and then Susan lifted her head and asked, "Do you want to try something else?"
I answered in the affirmative. She lay back and parted her thighs, using two fingers to spread her pussy lips open. I awkwardly got on top of her and she helped me insert my semi-hard penis into her.
Because I wasn't fully erect, I didn't get the full effect, so to speak, but it was enough. I slid onto her and slid my hands under her arms, grasping her shoulders as I humped her, panting hungrily.
"I want you to come," she gasped, "I want you to come now."
I'd like to say that I lasted a long time, but I didn't. I came in about a minute. But I didn't care. I was now officially NO LONGER A VIRGIN!!!!!
We uncoupled, I pulled off the condom, and Susan lit a cigarette. "Is this the first time you've had intercourse?" she asked.
"Yes," I replied, still glowing in the triumph of having gotten laid at last.
We chatted a little more until I noticed my hour was just about up. We both got dressed and she gave me a hug. "Come see me again," she invited. I said I would, then practically floated down the stairs, out the door, and back to work. I was sure everyone could tell by my face that I'd finally FUCKED A GIRL. I remembered the movie DEAD POETS SOCIETY where Robin Williams tells his students about something called "Yawp!", which represented a feeling of overwhelming exhilaration.
Well, that's how I felt. YAWP!!!!
I would go on to see Susan several more times over the next couple of years. She would introduce me to the joys of eating pussy and tit-fucking. Although we never did make out and I never got to do things with her (or to her) that I'd do with other escorts, she was an excellent first step on my sexual journey. Last I heard, she'd left the business and had finally realized her goal of becoming a therapist. I'll always remember her with fondness...and a big hard-on.
November 13, 2007
My Favorite Pornstars: Karma Rosenberg
Here's a bunch of pics of one of my favorite pornstars, Karma Rosenberg. I've never actually seen any of her flix but when I ran across these online my cock shot up so hard and fast I had to jack off IMMEDIATELY.
Check out those fantastic Dick Sucking Lips on this babe. MmmmmmmMMMMMMMM! And the shot with the cum dripping off them? Oh, YEAH!!! I LOVE seeing a woman's lips wrapped around a stiff dick, especially mine! I imagined myself shoving my own cock hard and fast in an out of Karma's slippery mouth! OoooooooEEEEE!
Hope you enjoy 'em as much as I did!
November 12, 2007
In the Beginning...(or Suddenly, Susan); Part One
It's said that a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. In my case, it was a single schtup.
The year was 1989. I was 25 years old and had just moved to San Francisco after attending college in New York City. I had my own studio apartment in the Laurel Heights section of the city, a peon job as an administrative assistant at a major advertising agency, no debt, and relatively few personal expenses.
I was also still a Virgin.
Somehow, I'd gotten through high school and college without getting laid. In fact, I'd gotten through high school and college without even getting a hand on a girl's bare tits. The closest I'd come was in high school when I put a hand on the right breast (over her shirt) of Theresa, a girl I'd been dating, while we were making out in the parking lot of a local pizza joint in my hometown of Newark, Delaware. Theresa pushed my hand away and flatly stated, "I know that turns some girls on, but it turns me off."
Shit.
I don't think I'm an unattractive guy, but I think throughout my life I've always given off a vibe that has prevented most women from viewing me as a sexual option. Or maybe I'm just fooling myself and really am a douchebag. Whatever.
Anyway, in 1989 I started to worry that, left to my own devices, I'd never get laid. So I started to think about going to see...A HOOKER.
I didn't know anything about securing the services of a prostitute/escort. I know I didn't want to pick up a girl on the street because I was afraid of getting robbed or knifed by a pimp. I was also afraid that streetwalkers (as I'd heard them named) were prone to disease, or even worse, undercover female cops on vice detail. That's all I needed...to get arrested.
However, I had become familiar with the "Massage and Escort" ads in the back of a newsprint adult rag called THE SPECTATOR, which I periodically furtively bought from news boxes as jack-off material. I somehow intuited that the women who placed these ads were safer bets than the gals on the corner, and that you called them, scheduled appointments, and treated the whole thing much like a doctor's appointment. Much of this knowledge was from watching an indie film called WORKING GIRLS by director Lizzie Borden.
So, after much hemming and hawing, I finally decided to call the number in an ad reading "Tall Busty Blonde - Incall and Outcall Services". I liked blondes and big tits (still do), and it didn't matter if she was tall (I'm only 5'4").
The voice on the other end was most definitely female and said her name was Susan. Susan sounded businesslike and I said, despite the roaring in my ears and the hot flush that was rapidly rising up from my chest and spreading over my entire face, that I wanted to make an appointment. Susan told me her rate was $100 for a one-hour session and that she had openings that day. Was I still interested?
With my heart pounding, I said yes. She gave me her address and we agreed on a time. I hung up and found myself frozen with both terror and breathless anticipation. I was going to get laid AT LAST.
The year was 1989. I was 25 years old and had just moved to San Francisco after attending college in New York City. I had my own studio apartment in the Laurel Heights section of the city, a peon job as an administrative assistant at a major advertising agency, no debt, and relatively few personal expenses.
I was also still a Virgin.
Somehow, I'd gotten through high school and college without getting laid. In fact, I'd gotten through high school and college without even getting a hand on a girl's bare tits. The closest I'd come was in high school when I put a hand on the right breast (over her shirt) of Theresa, a girl I'd been dating, while we were making out in the parking lot of a local pizza joint in my hometown of Newark, Delaware. Theresa pushed my hand away and flatly stated, "I know that turns some girls on, but it turns me off."
Shit.
I don't think I'm an unattractive guy, but I think throughout my life I've always given off a vibe that has prevented most women from viewing me as a sexual option. Or maybe I'm just fooling myself and really am a douchebag. Whatever.
Anyway, in 1989 I started to worry that, left to my own devices, I'd never get laid. So I started to think about going to see...A HOOKER.
I didn't know anything about securing the services of a prostitute/escort. I know I didn't want to pick up a girl on the street because I was afraid of getting robbed or knifed by a pimp. I was also afraid that streetwalkers (as I'd heard them named) were prone to disease, or even worse, undercover female cops on vice detail. That's all I needed...to get arrested.
However, I had become familiar with the "Massage and Escort" ads in the back of a newsprint adult rag called THE SPECTATOR, which I periodically furtively bought from news boxes as jack-off material. I somehow intuited that the women who placed these ads were safer bets than the gals on the corner, and that you called them, scheduled appointments, and treated the whole thing much like a doctor's appointment. Much of this knowledge was from watching an indie film called WORKING GIRLS by director Lizzie Borden.
So, after much hemming and hawing, I finally decided to call the number in an ad reading "Tall Busty Blonde - Incall and Outcall Services". I liked blondes and big tits (still do), and it didn't matter if she was tall (I'm only 5'4").
The voice on the other end was most definitely female and said her name was Susan. Susan sounded businesslike and I said, despite the roaring in my ears and the hot flush that was rapidly rising up from my chest and spreading over my entire face, that I wanted to make an appointment. Susan told me her rate was $100 for a one-hour session and that she had openings that day. Was I still interested?
With my heart pounding, I said yes. She gave me her address and we agreed on a time. I hung up and found myself frozen with both terror and breathless anticipation. I was going to get laid AT LAST.
WelCUM One and All!
What's up, WWW?
I'd like to officially welCUM you to my blog, which is dedicated to none other than my out-of-control male libido. As my comment at the left says, I'll be using this valuable Internet space to reminisce and report on my dalliances with those sexy, sexy working girls (or providers as they're now called). I'll also give my two cents on various porn sites, clips, DVDs, pics or whatever as I see fit. AND, as a bonus, I'll occasionally discuss female co-workers, chicks at my gym, or at the neighborhood Ralphs that I'd love to fuck.
So sit back, relax and enjoy (that's what she said). And please feel free to comment, esp. if you can recommend any new trim to try out.
I'd like to officially welCUM you to my blog, which is dedicated to none other than my out-of-control male libido. As my comment at the left says, I'll be using this valuable Internet space to reminisce and report on my dalliances with those sexy, sexy working girls (or providers as they're now called). I'll also give my two cents on various porn sites, clips, DVDs, pics or whatever as I see fit. AND, as a bonus, I'll occasionally discuss female co-workers, chicks at my gym, or at the neighborhood Ralphs that I'd love to fuck.
So sit back, relax and enjoy (that's what she said). And please feel free to comment, esp. if you can recommend any new trim to try out.
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