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Note: This is a continuation of What I Want and What I Want (Part 2). You really do need to read these first to have an understanding as to what is going on here. I lead an unusual life and am grateful for this. I’ll leave you to your own judgments as to its worth.
You must believe me when I say I know how lucky I am. In some sense I am twice lucky. Not only do I know precisely what I want, which in itself makes me luckier than most, but I also have the means to achieve it.
Some of you will argue that I’m shallow. Others will argue that I’m immoral. I naturally disagree. I enjoy intellectual relationships, I enjoy loving relationships; but I recognize that I’m turned on by young, attractive women. I’m turned on by seeing a young, attractive woman dress sexually provocatively. And frankly, I’m not going to pretend this doesn’t turn me on.
When you see an attractive, young woman dressed provocatively, men notice. Men notice short skirts (on those who should wear them), tight pants, and exposed stomachs, and so they should. The purpose of wearing them in public is to provoke interest. The wearer wants the world to see her legs, or the shape of her butt, or her belly-button ring, or her flower tattoo.
But what I don’t understand is the idea that it’s okay to be turned on by this, but I shouldn’t act on it.
More to the point, not everyone is alike. Different people want different things. I want sex. And I want it in a certain way. I consider myself happily married. But I wanted a different kind of sex than what my marriage provided. I wanted a different kind of sex than any marriage could provide. I enjoy sex with my wife, but I also enjoy it in ways I don’t want my wife to provide.
So here I am, turned on by sexy young women dressed for me to notice them, and as it turns out I have the financial capability of paying for a sexy, provocatively dressed young woman to be with me alone and to willingly do what I want.
What is shallow about getting exactly what I want? What is immoral when the young woman willingly enters into this relationship? Am I treating her as a sex object? Well, in some sense yes. But she wants to be treated like a sex object for the right price. My sex life with my wife hasn’t suffered. In fact, it’s probably better! I’m not into coercion. I’m not into causing pain. It’s no different than getting a therapeutic massage. For a couple of hours each week I want the physical companionship of a sexy young woman who is willing to be a whore for me. And I’m willing to pay the price of seeing it happen and get from her exactly what I want.
Now here I was, a middle aged man, in a hotel suite with exactly what I wanted. Mara was a 21 year old tall, very slim beauty with long straight blonde hair. I now noticed her eyes were blue. Having seen her previously only at the strip club which employed her, this was the first time I could tell the colour of her eyes. She was wearing a slutty “please-fuck-me” outfit (I had given her “instructions” as to what I liked and disliked), consisting of a tight cut-off t-shirt and very tight low-rise jeans.
We were on the couch kissing, our tongues exchanging saliva, and our hands groping each other.
It was intense (at least for me).
I realized that it wouldn’t take much to make me cum, and I really truly wished to take my time before I did. I knew I had best cool off a bit.
I asked her to stand up so that I could stare at her. She complied with a smile and began a slow 360 degree turn so I could see every aspect of her. There was a mirror opposite us, and she paused to check herself out.
You could tell by her expression that she was satisfied with how she looked. She was comfortable with the sexy slut look. She liked herself in this role.
I took the opportunity to put my hand on her ass and feel her up. I then moved my hand between her legs so that I could grope her pubic area. This reflection in the mirror was something else – this sexy – no – ultra-sexy girl with a hand grabbing at her between her legs through her jeans.
She groaned softly. This was surprising. I’ve seen now many girls in this situation, some of whom could put on a great show, but this was the first girl who actually seemed to respond to being groped.
I got up and removed her t-shirt, and then her bra. I positioned myself directly behind her, pushing the front of my pants against her butt. I began to grope her and gently hump her behind. I pressed my cock against the groove of her ass through her jeans.
With one hand I fumbled with the button on her jeans and then slowly lowered the zipper. While my right hand was tugging at each breast in turns, I plunged my left hand into her pants and then her panties. She moaned gently when my finger found her clitoris. She was wet. Very wet.
Mara was a dream girl! Not only was she knock-out sexy; not only was she a whore in the sense of being willing to have sex for money; she was a whore in a deeper sense yenimahalle escort – she was actually turned on by being a whore!
I began working a finger into her and she leaned into me and turned her head so that we could kiss again. I continued to hump against her ass. For such a slim girl, she had perfect breasts that only money could create. My other hand became familiar with them.
There are times when a woman can look just as sexy with something on as when she is nude. Mara’s skin tight jeans were driving my lust over the edge. I could feel my cock begin to leak a little pre-cum.
At times like this I get a little befuddled. On the one hand I want to plant myself in her and pour my seed deep into her womb. On the other hand, the idea of asking – no, telling – her to drop to her knees -while she is still wearing those jeans – and take me in her mouth was equally compelling. My indecision meant I continued to dry hump her ass.
This would be the first time I’d have her. I knew I’d be good for another round in a while; perhaps even two rounds. So I reasoned that basically I was going to give it to her each of the ways I wanted, the only question was which way first?
You’ve got to know, that when you are in such a state of arousal, it’s mighty hard to think. But I was able to think it through. When one has sex more than once and over a short period of time, the first orgasm produces the greatest quantity of sperm and semen. Now I very much desired to plant my sperm into her. But the idea of cumming in her mouth would be made extra sweet if the amount of cum was the largest possible. I wanted her to swallow my seed and I didn’t want it to be just a few drops. I wanted the blow job first.
I removed my hand from her panties and spun her around to face me. Without telling her, she placed her hand on my bulge. My cock liked the constant attention and was now demanding more.
I told her to go down on her knees before me and she complied. Her right hand never left the front of my pants. I told her to undo my belt; then to open up my pants. When my fly was open she reached in to give my cock a squeeze through my underwear, and then she tugged my pants down.
My cock was now straining for its freedom from my constricting underwear. Again, without me asking, and with my pants at my feet, she leaned forward to rub her face against the outline of my erection. And then she kissed it from the top and down the shaft. She moved her hand so that her fingers moved inside my underwear from the bottom and she gently touched my balls. She then tilted her head sideways and opened her mouth and moved it up and down against the bulging outline.
My underwear were beginning to get wet – first from the activities of her mouth, and second from my leaking. She gently tugged them down a few inches, revealing my steel-hard cock, which now stood out form me like a rocket. The tip of it was all wet and sticky with pre-cum.
She said “hmmm,” and licked the tip with one slow lick. This had two effects. First, it cleaned of the stickiness. Second, it caused a little more pre-cum to ooze out. She licked at this too.
Mara then open kissed my cock. It wasn’t in her mouth yet, but the tip was penetrating her lips. She kept her lips on the tip and I could feel her tongue flitting against the slit of my cock. I was aware that every ten seconds or so, some more pre-cum would ooze out. And I could feel her tongue licking it up.
My knees felt like they would buckle, so I told her I needed to sit down. I went back to the couch, leaving my pants behind, and now removing my underwear. Within moments Mara was again on her knees before me – but now with my cock fully in her mouth, my balls being squeezed in her hands, and her head bobbing up and down.
She wasn’t trying to rush things. She was able to get almost all of my average sized cock down her throat before pulling back – and she’d pull back slowly. She knew to move her tongue around, even when several inches of cock were in. And she knew to avoid contact with her teeth.
Mara wrapped one hand around the base of my cock and began gentling tugging on it, while attempting to drive her tongue into the slit at the tip of my cock. With her other hand she expertly massaged my balls, one at a time.
Several times I pulled my cock out of her mouth to avoid cumming. I just had to make this last. But I didn’t stay out of her mouth for very long. She wasn’t trying to rush me to get it over with. She instinctively knew I wanted to prolong the blow job.
When Mara needed a break to rest her jaw, she held my cock upright and proceeded to lick down the shaft. She then set her sights lower and licked each of my balls. I nearly came on the spot when one ball disappeared into her mouth. My balls received the attention they deserved. I could feel the sperm boiling, demanding to be released.
I planted my hands on the back of her head. Her mouth again accepted the intrusion of my eryaman escort cock. I wanted full control of the situation. I wanted full control of her. I pushed her head down and lifted it up, making sure at least half of my cock was in her mouth at all times. My groin was covered in her saliva. Several times I pushed her head as far down as I could and held it there for a second or two. Throughout this process she never stopped the sucking. It felt as if she was a cum-vacuum.
Even the slurping noises were turning me on. I managed to look beyond her cock-filled face and check out once again that perfect little ass in those tight jeans. And that did it for me. I knew I’d have to cum very soon. I knew I would not be able to hold off this time.
I pushed Mara’s head down as far as I could, and managed to say, “Suck it good,” before totally losing control and exploding in her mouth. I felt five separate distinct blasts of cum firing against her tonsils. I relaxed my grip on her head. More cum flowed into her mouth, but at a slower pace. I grunted and smiled in satisfaction, and then asked her, “Where did you learn to suck like that?” She just smiled back in response.
She grabbed my still hard cock with her hand and squeezed it. More cum appeared at the tip. Mara stuck her tongue out and put it underneath my cock, to let the cum on it slowly roll down to deposit itself. She kept her mouth open and tongue out so that I could see my semen covering it. Finally, she put her tongue back in her mouth, closed it and swallowed.
Mara asked me if it was okay if she got up off her knees now. I told her “Of course.” She asked me if I enjoyed it and then added, “I guess this makes me a whore now.” Of course this turned me on. It’s one thing to get a blow job from a whore. But it’s another thing when you realize that you are the one to have turned a girl into a whore. This was her first experience with prostitution. The money I would give her would eventually be spent and be gone for good. But nothing could change the fact today, tomorrow, next year, or a decade from now, that she had been a prostitute. And I was the one that she crossed the line with. Sure there is a thin line between being a stripper and being a prostitute. But the line is there. And she had crossed it with me.
So I was still turned on mightily. But I needed some time to recover. I fed her my lines about prostitution. It’s my experience that some girls are really deep down ashamed about being a prostitute. Others don’t mind, as long as it’s their own private little secret. And yet others, especially those with low self-esteem, feel that it is their station in life.
Mara wasn’t lacking in self-esteem. She clearly prided herself on her physical beauty. And she knew that she was no rocket scientist, but she certainly didn’t feel that she was stupid. She really seemed to like the fact that she could use her sexuality for her advantage (or at least what she saw as her advantage). And I was quick to recognize that she had pride and I wanted to use this to my advantage.
I told her that there were many kinds of prostitutes – and that they were on different levels of importance and earnings capabilities. At the lowest level there was the hooker. The hooker was almost always owned by a pimp who took her money. She had to spend each night under a lamp on some street corner. It was a risky and dirty profession.
Then there was the bar prostitute – these girls cruised the bars in the hopes of picking up anything that had a few bucks in its wallet.
Above the bar prostitute was the call girl/escort – and among escorts there were several levels. There were the cheap escort services – here most of the girls were very young, perhaps runaways, perhaps from eastern Europe, perhaps drug addicts. And there were the also the better quality escort agencies too. And I told her about the elite agencies where the escorts were all models or model quality.
But I pointed out to Mara that they were all still prostitutes. They were having sex for money.
And then I told her about the highest level – the mistress (not in the dominatrix sense, but rather in the older sense).
I “explained” to her that the mistress had many parts. She was part loyal girlfriend. What she gave to her man she gave to no other. While she might have been just like any other girl the rest of the time, when she was with her man she was part slut. She was there to be her man’s fuck toy – and nothing more. And finally she was part call-girl/escort. She’d be being paid for sex.
I could see in Mara’s eyes that this was important to her. I could see her thinking. She then asked me what I wanted her to be.
I knew what she was thinking. This was one prostitute that still wanted to be on a pedestal. She wanted to be some guy’s “mistress.” It’s not like it was the first time she had heard these terms. It was just that no one had organized them in a hierarchy before, and she clearly wanted to be at the top.
My ankara escort goal with this was to dangle a carrot in front of this young woman. Now that my fog had lifted with the load I had pumped into her mouth, I was thinking clearly again. I wanted what advantage I could get from her. I would want her to do things she might not be thrilled with doing – like, perhaps, anal sex, or even giving me a rim job. I didn’t know at this point if she’d ever stuck her tongue in a guy’s ass before or if she’d be willing to consider it. But if she really wanted to be a mistress, I wanted to plant in her head the idea that she’d have to do more than what a mere escort or hooker would do.
I told her that it had been a long time since I have been turned on this much, and that I really, really enjoyed the blow job. So I said, “Let’s just say I’m putting you on a trial to be my mistress. A mistress is what I want, but we are new to each other and we need to see how it goes.” I added again, “So let’s consider this a trial. How does that sound?”
She liked this and smiled. She said, “I think you’ll like what I have to offer.”
And with that she stood up in front of me and tugged down her jeans.
I stared at her – taking in her long blonde hair, her pretty in a slutty way face, her very slim body that curved perfectly at her hips, her perfectly sculpted breasts, her skimpy white low-rise bikini panties, and her long, slim legs.
She turned around with her back to me and slowly rolled down her panties. She had learned this trick as a stripper. She left them rolled up like a band, about an inch below her ass.
I put my hands on both of her ass cheeks and spread them for a better view. I could feel the “youngness” of this sexy body before me. It was here for me to exploit.
With a few fingers I probed between her ass cheeks and moved further down toward her pussy. Mara was still wet down there. She parted her legs a bit to allow me easier access, and I began, again, to finger her, taking the time to focus on her clitoris.
She softly moaned.
I wasn’t hard, but I was so turned on. I pulled her onto the couch so that she was sitting between my legs with her back pressing against my stomach and cock. I had her spread her legs as wide as I could over mine so that I could really work her pussy over with my fingers. I penetrated her with two fingers, while trying to keep my thumb on her clitoris. My other hand groped at her breasts. She turned her head so that we could French kiss.
Mara’s moans turned into grunts. She began humping back against my fingers. She reached back with her arms to hold onto the couch and braced herself. Moments later she had an orgasm.
Some of the girls I’ve paid for sex with have faked orgasms. This wasn’t one of them.
Mara had that exhausted feeling one gets after having just completed the sex act. But I was hard again and I knew this would be the ideal time to get what I wanted. I dragged her to the bed, pulled the blankets and sheets down and lay her on her back.
She spread her legs for me and I wasted no time in positioning myself between them. I needed to fuck her now and nothing was going to stop me.
Our eyes met. I knew what she was thinking at that very moment. It was the moment she would first fuck a guy for money – her first moment as a prostitute. But it was also a fuck she wanted.
I thrust into her hard and she accepted it. Mara was very wet from her orgasm. I kissed her all over her face and grunted into her ear, “you’re a whore now.” I got a “yeah” in response.
I guess it was because she was so slim that made it such a nice and tight fit. It certainly wasn’t because of my exceptional girth. My penis is just average.
She wrapped her slender arms around me and purred, “Give it to me.” I complied to the best of my abilities.
It didn’t take long for that boiling feeling to develop in my balls, but I didn’t want to come so soon. So I slowed the pace of my thrusts and lifted myself up wrapping my arms around her legs. I was pulling her on and off my cock now, more than I was thrusting.
Changing positions again, I put her legs up and rested them on my shoulders and thrust in as far as I could get. I penetrated her deeply and she began to respond sexually to my aggression.
My lust knew no bounds. I was on fire. I had a young hot sweet slut beneath me and I was simply pounding her toward another orgasm. I could feel every muscle in her body tightening.
I got an “Oh God” out of her and then her body began to quake. She let out one long sweet moan of satisfaction. Her legs and arms went limp.
I told her that I “owned her”, and all she could say in response was “mmmmmm.” I told her it was time for her to squeeze the cum out of my balls and that I was going to pump her full of sperm.
She reached over my ass to comply. I felt like I was being milked. Between the sensation of my thrusts, her grabbing at my balls, and the psychological impact of having this honey service me, I couldn’t hold back any longer.
Having cum once already, there wasn’t as much left to come out. Still, I did myself proud. I could feel the steady flow of sperm come out of me and bury itself deep in her. She could feel it too, and gave me a “yeah” in admiration.
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