The Oldest Profession

I have never sought for, nor paid for a prostitute or "escort" in the real world, nor do I ever plan too.

However, the fantasy of  buying a high class "Professional' has provided me with a countless number of self induced orgasms.  It's not about the sex per se, it's about the danger and preliminary activities that precede the sex.  The idea that a simple exchange of money will provide fulfillment of a fantasy without judgment or question from the 'service provider'.  There's dominant / submissive relationship there and as a professional there is the expectation of a high skill level in pleasuring.

With all of the naughty explorations my wife and I have tried, I'm amazed we haven't done more role playing.  

The idea goes something like this.  A weekend suite at a nice hotel is booked.  My wife picks out some sexy  black lingerie to wear "underneath" that includes the classic- garter, stockings and heels.

And then picks out a classy dress to wear over it...something red would be nice

So a business associate gives me the contact info for a very expensive and high class "Madam".  I call this madam, who's part is played by my wife.  And I describe to her  exactly what I'm looking for and what the cost will be.  She gives me instructions on where to go and who to meet....perhaps in a park or someplace near the hotel.  She informs me that kissing her on the mouth is not allowed.  (adds a little tension to the roleplaying and is different because after all, she's not my wife.) I place the "money" in a large envelope and go meet this "mystery women".  (The money might be something that will make her blush, or get tingly when she sees it.)  I sit on the bench next to her and place the envelope between us.  She casually looks at it's contents =) and then leaves me the instructions on where to meet my "date" and what she looks like.

I put on a nice suit and tie...

and meet her for dinner, perhaps at the Hotel or someplace nearby.

We eat, small talk, she asks about my wife  =)

I slip her my room key and tell her that I'll meet her there in about 30-40 minutes.  She heads off to the room to prepare, as I sit at the bar and have a couple drinks.

I enter the room and as per my instructions, she has removed the dress and is wearing the lingerie.  We're on an upper floor, and the curtains are open and she is seated in a comfy chair....masturbating (with her lacy panties still on and soft gloves) as I walk in.  I remove my shoes and find a comfy spot on the bed to watch her.  She has to bring herself to orgasm as I watch...perhaps take a few photos...as she gets closer I undo my fly and perhaps I begin stroking my erect cock.  After she cums, she gets up and prepares me a drink...something in a large martini glass.  I stand up as she approaches.  She hands me my drink and I notice that the panties she was wearing are there..in my drink and it is a full glass.   She immediately drops down to her knees, removes my pants, and engulfs my cock in her mouth.  I have to carefully sip my drink and refrain from spilling as she is giving me a divinely inspired blow job.

After a nice long round of fucking and orgasms we retire to the hot tub.  As a reward for treating me so well, I offer to bathe and massage her.  When we finally tire ourselves out, we go to bed.  I have to get up early for a business flight.  Leave her a tip and head out.  My wife transforms back to her normal self and we meet back at the house later and laugh like naughty teenagers that did something wild the night before.

Feel free to add any variation or scene to this scenario and perhaps it will get used sometime.

Legs, Stockings, and Garters...oh, my.

Unraveling the Mystery, pt. 5

By the time I was 16, jerking off was as much a routine for me as eating.
And I ate a lot.
I managed to get a hold of a few magazines that were more sacred to me than any scripture.
Playboy, Penthouse, Gallery, and High Society.  I had to constantly hide and shift my stash around my room, as my mom was always cleaning, and always snooping.  I surgically removed this felt lining under my bed, and glued opposing velcro strips so that I could open it and stash them up inside the bed frame out of site.

But I got cocky and sloppy {puns intended} and one day I inadvertently left my two Playboy's sitting under my bed.  My mom went vacum my room and found them while  I was at school.

I got home from school and noticed my mom seemed pissed.  She didn't say a word to me and went out to the garden to work.  After a while I looked under my bed and realized what was missing.  "Oh shit" crossed my mind just as I heard my dad get home from work.  I figured my mom had probably already called my dad, this made the wait and anxiety peak.  I figured there was nothing I could really do so I fired up some music and worked on homework until the bomb dropped.

I was 16 and never got "the talk", nor was anything taught at school, sexuality was never discussed in my household.  Masturbation was also a taboo topic those days...even at school it was never really discussed among other kids other than crude jokes.

So my dad entered the room with the proverbial "we need to talk about something" as he carried my magazines into the room.  What followed was a lame attempt at the sex talk intertwined with religion.  What he didn't know, was that I had learned about this 4 or 5 years previous on my own, not to mention that I had been on the periodic receiving end of oral sex for about three months.  Naturally I played dumb and placated him to get it over with.

Lesson learned.  Hide your porn stash better dumb ass!

Fishnet Stockings!

A Husband of Two Sexual Minds: Watching

A Husband of Two Sexual Minds: Watching: Source: VRBW He had never been allowed to watch before. Even though it was his idea for his wife to fuck other men, she'd never felt comf...

A Husband of Two Sexual Minds: Drawing It Out

A Husband of Two Sexual Minds: Drawing It Out: She wasn't expecting it when she walked in the door.  But then again with these type of evenings that he sometimes plans, she never is expec...

Everybody's Gay

http://frisky916cpl.blogspot.com/2011/10/do-you-masturbate-this-guy-says-youre.html

Christian Right Wing Pastor Mark Driscoll Says Masturbation Is Form of Homosexuality

The Christian Right has much to say about homosexuality. Fred Phelpsl [sic] says God hates them and stages protests at the funerals of American soldiers to bring attention to his hatred. An anti-gay Christian Right wing activist recently said there wasn’t any proof that LBGT people exist. And most recently, a conservative crowd booed a gay soldier during a GOP Debate. Now a “pastor” on the Christian Right is saying that masturbation is a form of homosexuality.


“Pastor” Mark Driscoll says that men need to stop masturbating because it’s a kind of homosexuality. In a booklet titled Porn-Again Christian: A Frank Discussion on Pornography & Masturbation for God’s Men, Driscoll of the Seattle-based Mars Hill Church says, “First, masturbation can be a form of homosexuality because it is a sexual act that does not involve a woman. If a man were to masturbate while engaged in other forms of sexual intimacy with his wife then he would not be doing so in a homosexual way. However, any man who does so without his wife in the room is bordering on homosexual activity, particularly if he’s watching himself in a mirror and being turned on by his own male body.”


In sermons offered at this website, Driscoll also says that Christians should judge gay people like Jesus. “If you leave this church, you can go to another church and they will tell you if you are living together and not married, that's okay. They'll tell you if you're gay, that's okay. They'll tell you if you're married and you're into porno and wife-swapping and open marriages, that's okay. God is displeased with that conduct. …. Christians therefore must be judgmental like Jesus."


Driscoll is a poor excuse of a pastor. This supposed "man of God" should know that Jesus was not judgmental, and he certainly frowned upon Christians judging others. "Judge not lest ye be judged," Jesus said to a group of men who were judging an adulterer. "Let he who is without sin cast the first stone." The Bible says that the only sexuality we should be concerned with is our own. I'm certain this "pastor" sins on a daily basis and has probably masturbated a couple times in his life. Interestingly enough, he isn't saying anything about female masturbation. He's probably okay with that.

Well, duh. Female masturbation is fucking hot.


For the record, there is no connection between masturbation and homosexuality. Sure, gays masturbate, but so do straight people and we can say this with 100% confidence because we're straight people and we masturbate. In fact, we are thinking of masturbating as soon as we post this. Mark Driscoll would probably claim that the fact that we masturbate means we are gay. Hey, that's great, Mark. But admit it, you've masturbated like one of those red-assed monkeys at the zoo being paid by the fluid ounce. Maybe you don't anymore; maybe the shame and the self-hatred you feel for having masturbated at one point in your life forced you to kick the habit. If that's the case, then we feel sorry for you, because masturbation is awesome. It's the one kind of sex that the most repulsive members of society can be assured of experiencing, and you should know. But if it makes you feel better to say that we're all gay, then that's fabulous.

The purity movement: birth of sex-positivity

Excellent article!
http://thebrunettesblog.wordpress.com/2011/04/06/the-purity-movement-birth-of-sex-positivity/

We all have our hot-button issues, and one of mine is the movement — usually linked to conservative religious groups — advocating feminine “modesty” and “purity.” (They usually stand for male “purity” as well, but the bulk of the talk is directed at women.) It’s hard for me to engage this issue directly, because aside from my philosophical problems with it, I have a very visceral response to its rhetoric: the same kind of response a former alcoholic sometimes has to scenes of people drinking. The modesty/purity movement once owned me, and it damaged me, and I hate it for reasons that have nothing to do with its philosophical or political merit. When I try to write about it, I can’t decide whether to write about my personal experiences, and the anger I feel about them and the fear I feel for people I love who still buy into it, or to try to put that aside and write objectively about the problems it has.
My anger comes mainly from this: there is a huge lie embedded in the conservative Christian culture I grew up in (though by no means exclusive to that culture.) The lie is that there is one context — lifelong, monogamous, heterosexual commitment — where sex is healthy and creative and life-bringing, and that in any other context sex is unhealthy and damaging. The lie is that sexuality outside of marriage is a dangerous, destructive force that needs to be controlled and subverted, but marriage transforms it into a beautiful affirmation of life and love and joy.
This lie was taught to me by people who loved me very much and genuinely wanted the best for my life. They taught it to me because they believed it, and their sincere belief and sincere caring for me made it almost impossible for me to question their teaching. So I spent the first twelve years of my sexual maturity fearing and avoiding sexuality, distrusting my body and my heart, feeling both resentful and guilty toward male sexual desire, and casting my own desires into ludicrous forms of romanticism instead of acknowledging them for what they were. I avoided making myself sexually attractive, because that’s what I was supposed to do, and I waited patiently for God to reward my obedience with a husband with whom I could live happily ever after.
Now, on the other side of my sexual renaissance, I see the world so differently that I can hardly articulate it. I know so much now that I didn’t see then. I know that lifelong heterosexual monogamy is not for everybody. I know that sexuality is not a pollutant of art, but probably its point of origin. I know that the sexual undercurrents that run beneath even “platonic” relationships are better acknowledged and enjoyed than denied. But foundationally, I know this: that the difference between destructive and life-giving sexuality is not made by what kind of relationship it occurs in. It is made by the presence or absence of joy and caring.
Whether there are one, or two, or several participants, a sex act is healthy if it is characterized by joy in the giving and receiving of pleasure, and by caring for the physical and emotional health of each person involved. That’s all. It’s not any more complicated than that. All other rules are created because somebody somewhere found a particular sexual relation damaging, and blamed the social circumstances rather than the individual ones. (Example: a woman who at 16 consented to sex she didn’t want because she craved closeness and affirmation, and concludes that teenage sex is always unhealthy.)
On a broader, systemic level, sex-negativity is based on fear and distrust of the body and human nature. But I’ve always been a staunch humanist, so the rhetoric of dirt and cleanliness never made a lot of sense to me. I never believed my sexuality was dirty or impure, just that it was dangerous.
Now, I don’t know how my life would have developed if I’d grown up without believing those lies. Plenty of people have sexual experiences, or even whole phases of life, that they regret, and I might have been one of those people. We can’t know how an alternative life path would have turned out. But I know for damn sure that I regret the twelve years of sexual repression that I subjected myself to, with the approval and encouragement of adults I trusted. I regret the experiences and relationships I missed out on, I regret relationships that were stunted or aborted because of my fear of sexuality, and I especially regret the disconnection with my own sexuality that my denial created, a disconnection I am still trying to repair.
In case anybody’s in doubt, it’s these experiences that make me passionate about becoming a sex educator. The abstinence-only message is founded on a false understanding of sex, its consequences, and its appropriate role in human life. Young people do need to be taught — indiscriminate sexual activity is often unhealthy too, and making smart, healthy sexual decisions in our culture does not come naturally. But they need to be taught about joy and caring, they need to be taught to discern their own needs and wants, they need to be taught communication and respect, they need to be taught what sex does and what it doesn’t do. They need to be taught about the varieties of sexual experience (apologies to William James) and given tools for creating a fulfilling sexual life, whatever that means for them. I’m grateful that I learned these things eventually; I want to help others learn them sooner.

Mississippi Learns The Hard Way That Abstinence-Only Sex Ed Enables Teen Pregnancy Epidemic - The Frisky

Mississippi Learns The Hard Way That Abstinence-Only Sex Ed Enables Teen Pregnancy Epidemic - The Frisky

Placebo - Protege Moi

Placebo - Protege Moi (clip interdit) by Korrandon

Penis Envy

 

I don't care if your straight, gay or somehere in between.  You can't help but salute these impressive monuments of Phallus.

“Sex is a team sport, sugar.”
― Cherise Sinclair, Breaking Free

“Sexually progressive cultures gave us literature, philosophy, civilization and the rest, while sexually restrictive cultures gave us the Dark Ages and the Holocaust.” Alan Moore, 25,000 Years of Erotic Freedom

Oral fixation

Unraveling the Mystery, pt. 4

My first sexual experience (that included someone other than myself!) was at 16. By this age I had a few girlfriends and even hit "first & second base" if you're familiar with that old metaphor.

Being LDS my friends and I frequented the youth dances that occurred every Saturday night.  A friend of mine introduced me to "Dana" who was a very cute girl from Korea who was not Mormon.  (Maybe this is where I developed an early fondness for Asian women!)  We "hit it off" or at least as much a you can when you're at that age.  She was a year younger physically but far more experienced than I was sexually.  Or at least that that was my impression...she didn't go into any details about her sex life and i was way too shy (and perhaps naive) to ask.

One of the great things about Mormon churches was the sheer number of rooms that were contained within them.  We would slip out of the dance, find a dark hallway and eventually would find a door that was accidentally left unlocked.  We discovered a room that was frequently unlocked that contained...not kidding here...a love seat and a small couch.

We would lock the door and "make-out" there quietly during the dances.  After about the third weekend during one of our secret make-out sessions her hand began rubbing my crotch.  (Which at that age, erections were as common as breathing).  This was the first time I experienced being touched by something other than my own hands.  I'm amazed I didn't tear my pants!

Next thing I know she un-buckled my pants and before I could catch my breath, had me unzipped and my pants/underwear pulled down around my ankles.  I looked down and my very erect penis was standing at full attention.  I remember her warm hands....one began stroking my cock, the other caressing my boys while her eyes looked up and right through me.  I was using all of my will power not to explode when she went down on me.  A warm mouth and tongue engulfed me and how i didn't cry out, I don't know.  I'm sure I lasted all of about 30 seconds before the orgasm hit, and it hit hard.

Each pulse/spasm/burst felt like a large and relentless gush of cum exiting my body.  Without taking her eyes off of me she swallowed in perfect time to each burst.  I can still remember the sound of her gulping and taking a quick shallow breath in between that was a half whimper, half breath.  I felt like my life force, soul, or some aspect of my conscious self was being sucked out of me.  Later I wondered if this specific sensation was the inspiration behind the legends of Vampires. After what seemed like an abnormally long orgasm (compared to my self gratification sessions) my heart was racing and I felt as though I would pass out.   I could faintly taste (what I presumed to be semen) myself on her lips after she kissed me.

We adjusted and fixed our clothes and we returned to the dance as if nothing happened.  Awkwardly enough, I had this lasting impression that women enjoyed swallowing during fellatio.  I found out in later years, sometimes to my embarrassment, that this was actually more of the exception rather than the rule.  I didn't mind, I was just new to the experience.

By this time in life, I don't particularly care what happens when I cum during felatio....once I get there.
I will say...the benefits of swallowing from my perspective is that sensation of being consumed I mentioned earlier, and consistency of sensation.  The latter meaning that right before orgasm, if something changes such as...leaving the mouth, a tooth scrape, or a change in rhythm or grip will kill the orgasm, and I go back 3 steps in building that up again.  So in that crucial last 30 seconds...not changing anything except a slight build in intensity is crucial.

Just as much, I enjoy seeing and heating my cum splatter against soft breasts or skin is equally rewarding for me.  I often enjoyed oral sex more than anything, as there is something more personal occurring there.  Here is an image that instantly turns me on.

Perhaps it combines the visuals of warm cum splattered against silky thigh highs....two of my favorite things.  Anyway...

So for about 3 months, this little "relationship" went on.  She never really let me do much more than kiss and grope her.  Now that I think about it, I never saw her in much of a state of undress.  This was my new religion.... a cute, strange Korean girl, who later decided that she was attracted to girls.  Maybe that explained why she never let me get into her pants?

Unraveling the Mystery, pt. 3

It was around 13 or 14 at my family's vacation home.  My younger sister had a playmate the same age at the neighbor's.  She had an older sister we'll call Misty.  Misty was 16, platinum blond spiky hair, slight makeup, classic 80's...she looked similar to this:

and yes...I had a crush.  But I was 2-3 years younger so in her eyes I didn't exist. Then one fateful day, her mom invited my sister and I to come over.  While my sister played with her friend....dolls, etc.  I was in their game room where they had a tv, a pool table, and other things to entertain a typical teenager.  The game room was adjacent to Misty's bedroom.  At the time I assumed she was gone.  What I didn't know, was that she was taking a bath across the hall.  I was bent down lining up a shot on the pool table when right in front of me she passed naked and wet.  I froze in terror but could not take my eyes off of her. She walked into her bedroom, picked up her phone to talk to a friend, as she leaned against the wall in direct view.  I didn't move let alone breathe.  This was my first real world sighting of a naked girl, and was etched into the proverbial spank bank for years to ...come.  Hell I can still remember it!

Heter...oh.

Hot tubs.  


The birthplace of naughty.  


It has to be.  


Warm water and naked bodies within close proximity.  


Stuff is going to happen.  


And what happens in the hot tub, stays in the hot tub.  


At least until it gets drained.

One of the wildest hot tub parties I experienced occurred in 2006.  It started out After an evening of debauchery at our friends’ house.  At one point, my friend’s wife was giving me a mind bending blow job while the woman on my right was...assisting her.... and my wife, much to my visual joy, was fingering herself. Yeah, that orgasm didn’t take long. After that we got invited over to a hot tub, the host being a friend of our friend, if that makes any sense.  

At one point the hot tub contained 8 naked people...4 guys and 4 women.  I was seated in an odd part of the tub next to the host’s friend, this young guy who seemed to be in his twenties at the time. We were seated right next to each other next to the steps, so we were kind of out of view somewhat.  Our friend “Vicky” was fooling around with him a little.  My friend’s wife began playing with my wife, much to the joy of the rest of the onlookers, especially the host who had a front row seat.  This continued for a long time.  

In the meantime, the guy I was next to commented on how sexy my wife is.  Naturally this gave me a real charge.  He asked if it turned me on to see my wife with other people, or if I ever got jealous.  I told him that it was one of the most erotic things I’ve ever seen, and jealousy was not an issue.  He asked if he thought she would be interested in having a threesome with him.  I told him that would be awesome and certainly a possibility.  (Unfortunately I got tired by 5 a.m. and that topic didn’t ever come back up.)

While we were talking and watching the goings-on, Vicky was man-handling both of us.  She was kind of strange so I wasn’t really paying attention to her, in spite of my erection.  She left.  While I was watching my wife who was on the verge of climaxing from all the hands on her, I noticed another hand that took over where Vicky left off.  I certainly didn’t mind and then it dawned on me....the only hand it could be....sure enough...belonged to the guy next to me.  The thing is, I was highly turned on and in full on deviant mode, so my inhibitions laid next to my clothes, wherever they were.  I was getting a hand-job from a guy and I didn’t mind.  We were under water, and out of view from the others...so like a good neighbor...I reached down and reciprocated.  It felt very strange...until that moment, the only cock I was used to feeling belonged to me!  At that time we were both shaved and smooth. The intensity and the danger of getting caught expedited things and as soon as I felt him cumming, I did too.  Having the same equipment I knew exactly what was occurring in my hand.  It was very erotic and felt uber-naughty.  That hot tub filter must have been working overtime that evening.  I was about to pass out and had to sit up out of the water to catch my breath.  At that point my wife emerged from the water and asked if I was ok, so many funny thoughts went through my head at that moment.

So yes, that was my first..and to date...only.... homo-erotic experience.  I still consider myself straight (ish) but apparently I like to bend the rules from time to time.

Fap this

If I'm going to hell for doing this...at least I'll be in good company

Beautiful Agony

Beautiful agony 3 by armydude1

Beautiful Agony

Ashley Brookes Beautiful Agony by The_John_Doe

Love the look on her face.

"Family Values"

Sin & Death in Mormon Country: A Latter-day Tragedy

http://www.affirmation.org/suicide_info/sin_and_death_in_mormon_country.shtml


April, 1986

By Mark A. Taylor*

On March 2, 1982, Kip Eliason, age 16, distraught and filled with self-hate over his inability to stop masturbating, committed suicide. Before asphyxiating himself, Kip left his father a note

I love this photo!

For Me

By Paris Waterman




"Do it... for me," I said, "I like to watch."

I watched her blush; saw the nervous twitch of her left eye, and decided she needed to hear the precise words. "Masturbate... for me, Vickie, please."

I know she's wet; we've been leading up to this since we happened to meet at the bar. Vicki admitted her penchant for watching porn; I admitted to being a voyeur, among other things. We knew where the evening was going, and now we were in Vicki's apartment. Hers, not mine. Vicki chose the destination, not me.

I believed I knew what she wanted to happen and toward that end I took control.

"Masturbate for me," I said, rephrasing my request. I spoke quietly, keeping my voice calm, but firm, and with a knowing smile on my face.

We are sitting on her bed, amid a pristine, ultra feminine pastiche of pink and white; amid oodles of Teddy's and Raggedy Ann dolls. Twenty minutes of hot and even hotter kisses, with each one a sign of eventual surrender have come and gone. I put my simple request to her one more time.

"Do it... for me."

I know she wants me, and she knows that I know. Yet she sits there, unmoving, formulating a reply that I have yet to hear. Already our clothes are half scattered around the pink and white room; a blight on the perfect blend of her choice in color.

"Vicki, I would like to watch you masturbate. You've already felt my cock. You know how hard it is for you. You need to be fucked. You want me inside you.

"What you want," she says and pauses. "It's embarrassing...Please, let's not do that. Wouldn't you rather fuck?? She's started to pant. "I'm really so fucking wet already...."

"I want to watch you first... C'mon Vicki, do it for me."

"But why?" she whines.

"I want to see you cum, that's why."

"But... but that's so private..."

"And fucking isn't?"

She giggles at my comment, and when I give her a questioning glance, she provides an interesting reply. "It takes two to fuck."

"No it doesn't," I say, surprising her.

"What? I don't understand?"

"Do you own a vibrator?"

"Yes, but what...."

"Do you have a dildo?"

"Yes, of course, but..."

"I've never... not in front of someone else..."

I don't answer her; instead I smile, and with our eyes locked I let my fingers slowly unfasten the buttons on my pants. I watch her eyes flick to my slowly moving fingers. She licks her lips with a deep pink tongue.

I expose myself to her ever widening eyes; I'm fiercely erect as my hand glides up and down my throbbing cock.

It's my turn to watch her fingers fly down her chest as she unhooks her bra and presents her breasts to me.

"Yes, please come for me..." I reply as a series of soft wet sounds rise up from my cock as I stroke it.

"Show me what a darling slut you are Vicki; touch it, come for me."

Vicki moaned, and avoiding any eye contact whatsoever, made a present of her panties to the pink and white carpeted floor. She's naked now, for my viewing pleasure, naked and oh so wet, although I've barely touched her.

"Please..." she panted, but her fingers have fallen between her thighs. I know her clit is aching for attention. I steadfastly refuse to grant it.

"Do it... for me."

Her cunt is on display for me as her fingers skid here and there teasing her clit, and plunge deep within her vagina.

A moment later Vicki's thighs are convulsing, her hips bucking furiously; and with her face etched with anguished pleasure, she released a long, sustained moan.

"I am! I am!" and came...

For me.

Scary Shit

Oklahoma Rape Victim Denied Emergency Contraceptives. Doctor Cites Religious Objection As Reason

http://www.addictinginfo.org/2012/05/31/oklahoma-rape-victim-denied-emergency-contraceptives-doctor-cites-religious-objection-as-reason/

When I think about you...

Girls do?

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What I grew up around

Typical of what proper dress and appearance was in my youth.

Images from my youth