Monthly Archives: July 2013

A Courtesans’ Pleasure

I’ve become overtly particular in how I like to be kissed, touched, licked, nibbled, and….penetrated. It is not just the physical acts, but also the esoteric factors that are important. I assume that I may ‘get off’ by certain clients, but it’s likely they will not satisfy all of my criteria — it’s almost impossible, given the amalgam of my preferences. My lovers set my expectations high, and thus I am not impressed so easily. But I have been floored — unexpected, as always. 

henna-feet

I assumed his patience would be limited, as he rubbed oil all over my nude body — how could he not just jump in at the earliest vantage point? But he didn’t. Patience is a virtue, they say. As the seduction unfolded slowly, I kept waiting for a ‘flaw’ in his act to reveal itself….

He brought edible massage oil. Oil, warmed by his hands. I lay on my tummy, exposing my back. He worshiped me at my shoulders, my back, my hips, my posterior, my legs, calves, and then — my feet. At my feet, he knelt down. He caressed his own face using all sides and angles of my feet — rubbed against his immense handsome, youthful face. His warm tongue on my feet, he licked my toes, lovingly and with care. My young dear had expressed his desire for feet beforehand, which excited me. His tongue searched the meanders of my body, saturated in fragrant oil. Slow and prolonged, which only ignited my heat further. It delighted me seeing his arousal being found in his oral fixation.

But, again, at every progression, I was waiting for a potential set back.

I turned around. He now worked on the front of my body. Kisses, soft nibbles, licks, and suckles. His warm face buried in my neck. Every part of his body was caressing me. If his lips were suckling and exploring my breasts, then his hands were caressing other parts, his body grinding softly. It was the same whilst he was at my feet, or between my legs — he used every part of his body to give me pleasure. All whilst, his manhood was fully aroused, brimming — yet, this lovely boy was patient, prolonging the teasing of my body.

After kissing almost every erogenous region of my body, his lovely face had reached the valley between my thighs. He examined me, as if he had never seen a woman in such ‘real’ detail before. I had recalled his correspondance before meeting: he told me that he had never kissed ‘one’ before. He had never tasted the arousal seeping out of woman. I thought, for certain, that I had found my setback. He paused, whilst his face lay before my  pussy. He continued to explore, with soft kisses on my inner thighs and outer labia. He opened my legs further, getting the most detailed view. This was new territory for him, as he claimed. I giggled at his innocence. I laid there, with my legs open, exposed and brimming with arousal from the intense foreplay…..and seeing his sexy face enticed me even further. He inhaled my scent. Then suddenly, my intense longing for his lips and tongue became reality. He tasted me, the first woman he ever tasted. Since he was inexperienced, I assumed he would be lacking in skills. But my expectations were exceeded. He went crazy. He licked, suckled, penetrated and tasted me with his warm mouth and tongue. I was in awe, mesmerized; so many factors made it more blissful than others. What drove me most wild was his intensity — it seemed he was doing this for his own pleasure — my young boy, with his oral fixation. Whilst his warm face was immersed in my ‘honey,’ he simultaneously used his hands to caress my breasts, feet, thighs, and hips. At one point, I took his hands and sucked on his fingers whilst he performed his oral magic. To my amazement, he required no instruction, as he perfectly responded to my moans and shakes. His intensity was bringing my climax to its finality, and I clenched his hair whilst I come……in all it’s beauty. My dear, whom had no idea of the female orgasm. After he ignited me, I took control. I beckoned him how to take me — take me with vigor, instinct. I thought, for the last time, that sexual penetration might be his set back. But again, I was exceeded in my notions. He took me, just as how I wanted — making me cry out with intensity, rawness.. exactly how I like it. Shortly after round one, to my delight, he got to work again — and went back to the valley between my thighs. He opened my legs again, and dove in to taste and lick. We repeated the whole beauty again, and again…

At one point, I exclaimed, “Thank you God, for making men like this.”

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Fruit Fly

Image

As I tidy my kitchen, I gaze at the fruit flies devouring the juices of my leftover fruits and drops of honey that seeped out of its container…

Isn’t it a marvel of how when something oozes beyond it’s confinements it provokes an attraction; separate entities become bonded as one by this irresistible liquid. For a quick second, I applied this metaphor to our bodies — oozing of fragrant juices, seeping out….ready to ignite the attraction of another. It doesn’t require further explanation as to why some lovers have referred to the valley between one’s thighs as ‘honey’…honey that drips for a purpose.

One day, my lover asked me, “How did these (fruit) flies get here?”

I live high-up, where little buggers cannot reach such heights. Only when the nectar of these fruits seep out do I see these flies appear from who-knows-where….

How is it they, these little buggers, can detect this sweet, juicy nectar from so far away, from so high above the earth?

It’s the simplest, most majestic manifestation of beauty — this magnetic-like desire to feast on delicious juices …that require far journey’s and distances, and, perhaps, even self-annihilation to attain such bliss. After all, the poor little fruit flies are very susceptible to fatality (via human annoyance) during the quest of their desire.

My little fruit fly, once so devoted to it’s nectar…..completely seduced by the scent, taste, feel, the beauty of the sweet nectar that continuously seeps out, that awaits.

Sadly, like the moth gets burned by it’s attraction to the flame, a little fruit flies intense devotion for nectar was cut short and zapped dead.

I understand the longing…..the devotion to an unknown fate….such beauty is worth all of one’s life.

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Filed under My Erotic Writings, My Poetry and Others

A Courtesan: A Curiosity of Clients Intentions

Flame

A few commenters on this blog have misunderstood my writings, because they assumed my blog was blaming clients for my mishaps. I will clarify it here: clients are not the problem in the modern context of prostitution. Certainly there are some ‘bad’ clients and third-party affiliates (brothel owners, managers, agents, etc) with exploitative tendencies, but equally there are some ‘bad’ escorts too. Individuals, alone, can be problematic indeed, but they are the not the sole cause behind the negative implications of the sex-industry. Prostitution has manifested itself in a multitude of ways in various places and contexts – it hasn’t always been a degraded phenomenon as it is depicted in modern societies today. Anyway…

Sometimes, I wonder about the lives and circumstances of my clients. I can only imagine how seeing an escort is a gamble when a client is, perhaps, seeking a true connection. Many women who sell themselves are not looking for genuine pleasure, but rather see the experience as a task. Other women might be more open to exploring sexualities, yet that does not mean chemistry can be established with every client.  In this post, I am curious about clients who are seeking a real connection with a woman. What is their experience? Is it easy to establish a good connection with an escort? And is it easy to establish good sexual chemistry? In my recent years, as a courtesan, I encounter many clients seeking more than just a physical act – they want passion, or perhaps they want to express desires that are considered ‘taboo’ in mainstream society, and overall they want to me enjoy it too.

As mentioned in the previous post, I tend to see clients who seek a deep connection. Do I connect with them all? Of course not.  They are looking for someone where they can establish good sexual chemistry, companionship and conversation. If such a client is married, then it’s my recollection that he, perhaps, rarely got the sexual openness and ‘spark’ with his own wife. And for single clients, perhaps they have never been in love, perhaps they are timid to share their desires, or they are recovering from a former love? The diversity of intentions for going to see a prostitute fascinate me.

One of my regular clients feels we have a strong connection. Indeed I feel comfortable with him, and do enjoy seeing him. But the feeling is still unequal. He claims he’s in love, but I say, “That’s not a good idea.” I like him as client certainly, as he’s a lovely man, but nothing more. But I admit, I think about his circumstances. Often, during appointments, I ask him about his life. I try to understand how he behaves the way he does – which is caring and sweet. When he started to profess his love for me, I told him, “I think you should go see another escort.” Instead, he claims, thus far, that he has no desire to see another girl. He said he detests meaningless sex – that is, sex without any emotion. He said his satisfaction is when he see’s me being satisfied. I understand his attraction – he likes me because he knows I am enjoying it too. It is egalitarian sex, which makes one-sided sex seem mundane.This client of mine, however, is married. I asked him, like many other attached men, why he see’s me: why cheat? Why not please his wife?

It turned out, his marriage, as he claims, was not founded on geniune love and intimacy. He loves his wife. But the love he described was not intense-sexual-love-chemistry. I asked him, like others, very intimate questions, such as, “Does your wife masturbate? Does she initiate sex? Does she always cum? Is she open minded?” The answers were not surprising.

This married client of mine has experience true love before he got married, with another woman. But sadly, he told me he lost her. He said she died in an accident. He told me that he never forgot their passion. I felt deeply sorry for him, because it seemed the love of his past still lingers. This client makes me wonder to myself:  do I ignite the old flame that once burned in his heart for his former true love? Or perhaps he finds me, as a prostitute, more open with my sexuality? Is there something about familiarity that makes us feel comfortable and nostalgic?

For my viewers, I am curious to know what draws you to escorts? And how does the experience make you feel after? And for escorts, what do your clients tend to seek from you?

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Filed under The Escorting Business, Types of Clients, Types of Prostitutes