I'm a young black guy with a thing for older voluptuous white women. Prostitution has helped me realize my fantasy. My most memorable experience was with a single mother. We set a date at a hotel. She got some candles, started with a massage and we started having a nice conversation. Her body type was prefect for me: slightly saggy big breasts, round belly and nice ass. We got a great time together. 5 minutes after fucking, she started telling me funny stories about her son, the apple of her eye. We talked about normal stuff, like old acquaintances who had already met each other. I'm still struck by how giving she was by telling me about her son. Maybe she felt like I needed a little more confidence, she even gave me some nice compliments. Those lasted more than 1 hour.
I keep thinking of how nice it would be to keep my head buried in her chest, for protection. To only leave it unless absolutely necessary.
I have not tried that hard to explain my preference for larger white women to myself. Maybe I'm afraid it's based on this horrible stereotype of white women that I'm not even aware of. Maybe I'm afraid to put black women in perspective in this too. It's hard enough to talk about sex without putting race in it. As for my age preference: maybe I'm looking for a mother-son relationship.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
I'm a Young Black Guy
Labels:
AGE,
BLACK,
FANTASY,
FEAR,
HOTEL,
JOHN,
LETTERS FROM JOHNS,
MASSAGE,
MOTHER,
PROSTITUTE,
RACE,
STEREOTYPE,
WHITE
Friday, May 23, 2008
I Like Women
I'm 41 and divorced. I have had a few girlfriends since breaking up, but the combination of a demanding job and the fact I spend most weekends with my children means I am usually single.
I have a high sex drive - not freakish, but I like sex, and I like women. I started seeing working girls after I'd been single for 6 months, and have had the usual range of experiences - I even made friends with one of the girls.
A few weeks ago, I arranged to see a girl who advertised on a web site. Her online persona is very much the crazy cumslut porn queen - she wears exotic make-up, has huge silicon boobs, and in her blog wonders if she's a slut or a whore.
I visited the hotel where she was staying, expecting a full-on session of filthy porno sex - and I wasn't disappointed. Thing is, afterwards, we chatted for a bit - and she opened up to me, a total stranger who had paid her for sex - about her life. She showed me pictures of her cats, told me about her no-good ex husband, how she was hoping to move to a remote place and just have lots of animals. She told me about her boyfriend, and how her submissive bedroom persona was matched by a bossy and demanding real world attitude.
I fell a little bit in love with her - wanted to hold her and make her feel safe. Of course, I knew that to her I was just another nameless guy with a hard-on, so I suppressed the feeling.
I have a high sex drive - not freakish, but I like sex, and I like women. I started seeing working girls after I'd been single for 6 months, and have had the usual range of experiences - I even made friends with one of the girls.
A few weeks ago, I arranged to see a girl who advertised on a web site. Her online persona is very much the crazy cumslut porn queen - she wears exotic make-up, has huge silicon boobs, and in her blog wonders if she's a slut or a whore.
I visited the hotel where she was staying, expecting a full-on session of filthy porno sex - and I wasn't disappointed. Thing is, afterwards, we chatted for a bit - and she opened up to me, a total stranger who had paid her for sex - about her life. She showed me pictures of her cats, told me about her no-good ex husband, how she was hoping to move to a remote place and just have lots of animals. She told me about her boyfriend, and how her submissive bedroom persona was matched by a bossy and demanding real world attitude.
I fell a little bit in love with her - wanted to hold her and make her feel safe. Of course, I knew that to her I was just another nameless guy with a hard-on, so I suppressed the feeling.
Monday, May 12, 2008
I'm Faithful In Every Other Sense Of The Word
I don't know how I got interested in prostitutes, but as I get older, and my sex drive increases, I find they're more of a necessity and less of a lark. If I don't get some kind of release at least once a week (and masturbation doesn't do it for me nearly as well as someone else doing it), in a massage parlor or with a prostitute.
I'm happily married, but my wife and I don't have sex nearly as often as we used to before our daughter was born, and unfortunately, it's starting to wear on me. Not only that, but when we do end up having sex, I have to do all the work, get her all worked up and then get to humpin' at her command. It's fine and everything, but sometimes it's nice to have someone focus on me, and my sexual needs and wants, for a change.
It's not emotional betrayal but rather a physical one, but I strangely don't feel guilty after, probably because I'm faithful in every other sense of the word. I always, always, always wear a condom so I don't bring anything home, but I think I'm getting more turned on by the random nature of the hooker-john relationship and the sexual freedom prostitutes engender.
Every time I go to a brothel, it gets a little bit more fun, also. The freedom I enjoy, the challenge of finding a whore I connect well with and can enjoy the act with, rather than it just be someone who's there because she has to be. The last time I went, I got to have sex with an older (then me, she was about 38. I'm 31) Russian lady, who still occupies a warm place in my heart because she looked me in the eyes as I climaxed and genuinely seemed to be interested in my pleasure.
That's what turns me on.
I'm happily married, but my wife and I don't have sex nearly as often as we used to before our daughter was born, and unfortunately, it's starting to wear on me. Not only that, but when we do end up having sex, I have to do all the work, get her all worked up and then get to humpin' at her command. It's fine and everything, but sometimes it's nice to have someone focus on me, and my sexual needs and wants, for a change.
It's not emotional betrayal but rather a physical one, but I strangely don't feel guilty after, probably because I'm faithful in every other sense of the word. I always, always, always wear a condom so I don't bring anything home, but I think I'm getting more turned on by the random nature of the hooker-john relationship and the sexual freedom prostitutes engender.
Every time I go to a brothel, it gets a little bit more fun, also. The freedom I enjoy, the challenge of finding a whore I connect well with and can enjoy the act with, rather than it just be someone who's there because she has to be. The last time I went, I got to have sex with an older (then me, she was about 38. I'm 31) Russian lady, who still occupies a warm place in my heart because she looked me in the eyes as I climaxed and genuinely seemed to be interested in my pleasure.
That's what turns me on.
Labels:
BETRAYAL,
BROTHEL,
CONDOMS,
FAITHFUL,
FREEDOM,
HOOKER,
JOHN,
LETTERS FROM JOHNS,
MARRIAGE,
MASSAGE PARLOR,
MASTURBATION,
PLEASURE,
PROSTITUTE,
RUSSIA,
SEX,
WIFE
Thursday, May 8, 2008
I've Seen Every Kind Of Hooker Going
I've often heard women wonder why men with sexy wives or girlfriends would solicit prostitutes. The answer really is simple: Even Marilyn Monroe could get a little boring after a few years, and having sex with other women is fun. Just like skiing is fun, or eating chocolate cake, or playing a slot machine, or riding a roller coaster. If you get over the guilt of the lying first. Or like me, if you are in an open relationship. Sex with a working girl is easier than a bar or party hook up, and they won't want to have a real serious relationship with you like 90 % of the women I've slept with. Some guys can't keep em, I can't get rid of them.
I've seen every kind of hooker going--classy hotel incalls, quickies, all nighters, girls who are brilliant and totally together and are just doing it for a year long lark and extra cash, siliconed strippers who show up totally high and bore you with their coke rant, and others keep telling you they are about to graduate school and quit the biz, only to see their online ads for years to come. Mostly it's fine, sometimes a blessing, sometimes depressing a little, but I love the simplicity of it. You make a phone call, she comes over, within minutes she's naked, you're fucking her, and then you are done. Both of us know what the rules are, with no discussion beforehand or questions after. Hook ups and dating are never that clear.
I like Asian girls (have since I was a teen). I like their skin, their soft features, their hair. I ordered one over in the middle of the day a month ago. I was very horny, and only wanted a little talk before sex, but after fucking her, cumming on her face and helping her clean up, it's always a good time to get to know someone with the remaining part of the hour. She was straight off the boat. With Human Trafficking being the boogie man of the 21st century, I wanted to find out how she came to NYC and this line of work.
She told me that she was a PE teacher in China, and that she knew of women who had married American men, and it had worked out well for them. She joined an agency, and was chosen by a man. He met her in China, her English was not very good, but he took her back to rural Pennsylvania. Her English improved, but the relationship did not. The man and his family told her she talked too loud. ("I am teacher," she protested. "I have to have voice that the children can hear!") The husband refused to teach her to drive, so she was stranded when he was away, which was often. It was too far to walk to the grocery store. He changed his mind about children and wanted her to go on birth control. There was no physical abuse, but it sounds like the typical man who would want a mail order bride--a socially impaired creep who wants a domestic doll, not a real human, and thought Chinese girls would complain less than USA women.
Eventually, she told me, they divorced, but he denied her a green card and refused to pay for plane fare back to China. (This process is a little sketchy--her English not so good). She bussed it to NYC, and went looking for work. She ran out of money, had no place to sleep. A woman told her about this. "Where I come from this is the worst type of work. But what can I do? I know nobody. I need to make money. To go back to China." She began to sob, and we held each other. I tried to tell her that everything can still work out, and that she could still have a family and not work like this.
I gave her my number, told her if she needed help with English or anything, call me. "We don't have to have sex," I told her. "Friends."
She has not called me, but I hope everything works out for her.
I've seen every kind of hooker going--classy hotel incalls, quickies, all nighters, girls who are brilliant and totally together and are just doing it for a year long lark and extra cash, siliconed strippers who show up totally high and bore you with their coke rant, and others keep telling you they are about to graduate school and quit the biz, only to see their online ads for years to come. Mostly it's fine, sometimes a blessing, sometimes depressing a little, but I love the simplicity of it. You make a phone call, she comes over, within minutes she's naked, you're fucking her, and then you are done. Both of us know what the rules are, with no discussion beforehand or questions after. Hook ups and dating are never that clear.
I like Asian girls (have since I was a teen). I like their skin, their soft features, their hair. I ordered one over in the middle of the day a month ago. I was very horny, and only wanted a little talk before sex, but after fucking her, cumming on her face and helping her clean up, it's always a good time to get to know someone with the remaining part of the hour. She was straight off the boat. With Human Trafficking being the boogie man of the 21st century, I wanted to find out how she came to NYC and this line of work.
She told me that she was a PE teacher in China, and that she knew of women who had married American men, and it had worked out well for them. She joined an agency, and was chosen by a man. He met her in China, her English was not very good, but he took her back to rural Pennsylvania. Her English improved, but the relationship did not. The man and his family told her she talked too loud. ("I am teacher," she protested. "I have to have voice that the children can hear!") The husband refused to teach her to drive, so she was stranded when he was away, which was often. It was too far to walk to the grocery store. He changed his mind about children and wanted her to go on birth control. There was no physical abuse, but it sounds like the typical man who would want a mail order bride--a socially impaired creep who wants a domestic doll, not a real human, and thought Chinese girls would complain less than USA women.
Eventually, she told me, they divorced, but he denied her a green card and refused to pay for plane fare back to China. (This process is a little sketchy--her English not so good). She bussed it to NYC, and went looking for work. She ran out of money, had no place to sleep. A woman told her about this. "Where I come from this is the worst type of work. But what can I do? I know nobody. I need to make money. To go back to China." She began to sob, and we held each other. I tried to tell her that everything can still work out, and that she could still have a family and not work like this.
I gave her my number, told her if she needed help with English or anything, call me. "We don't have to have sex," I told her. "Friends."
She has not called me, but I hope everything works out for her.
Labels:
ASIA,
CHINA,
DATING,
DIVORCE,
HUMAN TRAFFICKING,
INCALL,
JOHN,
LETTERS FROM JOHNS,
MAIL ORDER BRIDE,
MARILYN MONROE,
NEW YORK,
ONLINE,
PENNSYLVANIA,
PROSTITUTE,
RELATIONSHIP,
STRIPPERS,
WOMEN
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