Category: Kink

  • Ass Rimming – Why it is a turn-on for me

    Ass Rimming – Why it is a turn-on for me

    To be honest I never thought I’d be the kind of man to enjoy having my ass licked by a woman. Seemed at first to be kind of gay or at least borderline homo. In truth it’s all about what feels good between a man and a woman though. Man or woman, its a fact that your anus will be more sensitive when you are aroused. A wet warm tongue on my anus while a woman jerks me off is just one of those things that drive me over the edge.

    I suppose one of the larger mental turn-on’s for me is seeing a woman become slutty enough to perform that type of sexual act. It’s certainly humiliating for a woman to do, and that may be why I love even seeing it in pictures. It takes a special kind of white whore to open up to shoving their tongue in a black man’s ass.

    I’ve heard women say they do it because they know it turns their lover on and they want to please their man. Others have said they like the act of it because it makes them feel like a slut and a sexual object in the heat of the moment. In any case I like the end result (no pun intended).

    I like the process of opening a woman up to it as well. Helping to develop her sexual experience to include rimming is fun to lead her into. I ALWAYS shower myself to make it as clean and pleasurable as possible, also to make it more appealing for women new to ass licking. For some I’ve dropped it on suddenly, had them on their knees delivering a blow job, then spun around and ordered attention to my crack as well. Some women are accustomed to it and ask me if I’d like my salad tossed. On occasion some wives are first introduced by their husbands requesting to see them engage in the depraved act on a black man.

    Usually it begins in a man’s fantasy though, something about the seemingly vulgar action of tonguing a man’s ass doesn’t usually begin in a woman’s fantasy. But that’s what I enjoy about women not opposed to doing it, they are open to the sexual obscene. For women who need a little harder of a ‘nudge’ into trying it, I also love the shock of the idea when presenting it. I’m certainly deviant that I get off on the look of disgust on a woman when I request a tongue bath on my sphincter, makes it that much sweeter to watch them do it! I suppose I just love seeing them do something they once considered whorish and offensive.


    This article has been republished with permission from Master T


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  • Confessions of a 21st century Dominant in suburbia

    Confessions of a 21st century Dominant in suburbia

    Please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Ward*, and I am a Dominant male.

    This might surprise you as I am not (1) a billionaire and (2) I do not fly a helicopter and (3) I do not have an elaborate mansion with a red room that I use to perform deliciously explicit acts of pain on the women who choose to submit to me.

    Far from it.

    On the surface, I am Ward Cleaver living in Mayberry next door to Mr. Brady. I am a member of the local Rotary club, I religiously attend parent teacher conferences, I volunteer for the local public radio station and my son’s school, and spend weekends carting a suburban filled with children to hockey practice and parks and a myriad of activities.

    On the surface, anyway.

    Beneath the surface is something much darker.

    Beneath the surface is a Dominant male who goes to bed each night with a submissive woman who is required to wear a collar and ask for permission to sleep in his bed; a Dominant male who selects his pet’s panties every day and will text her a message—often during a business meeting—directing her to exercise her cunt for him. A Dominant male who unabashedly refers to his female companion as a fucktoy, whore and slut.

    It is who I am.

    Just don’t tell my fellow Rotarians.

    We have no red room in Mayberry, but in our bedroom where the bad things occur, there is a box of tricks I keep on my side of the closet and almost every night, I bring them out and use them on my pet. They range from spanking implements to restraints, vibrators and butt plugs, blindfolds and ball gags. They are brought out and used once the children have gone to sleep, the door is locked, and our cozy little bedroom becomes our own red room. Sometimes, my pet is too loud given the children in close vicinity, so the ball gag becomes a necessity. Or if I don’t care to get it out, her panties shoved inside of her mouth (after they are stuffed in her cunt so that they are soaking with her juices and she can taste herself) work just fine.

    Bad things happen in our bedroom at night. Bad things that define me as a Dominant, her as a submissive, and bring immense pleasure and a good night’s sleep to both of us.

    Morning comes, and I wake the children up and our household is oh so innocently vanilla.

    No one ever knows.

    She will often times text me when I get to work, to inform me of just how sore she is from the previous night, and ask me if I am proud of the bruises I left on her ass and upper thighs.

    What can I say? I am a Dominant male, and thus, I am quite proud of those bruises.

    My job requires me to travel, and whenever possible, I bring my pet along. This allows us to explore other aspects of our kinkiness, which, in the past year, has included a threesome in Melbourne, a visit to a swinger’s club in New Orleans, and participating in a BDSM club in Los Angeles. We have fun going out and taking things to a next level but before we go out, we always call back home and make sure the kids are in bed and settled.

    That’s how we are.

    I don’t quite get what the big deal is about “50 Shades of Gray.” I suppose it is because the story is so engulfed in the world of the fantasy aspect of a D/s relationship. Mine is immersed in the reality, and I am quite happy with that. We have our concerns as any regular couple do …paying bills, worrying about how the kids are doing in school, car repairs, you name it. Sometimes we are just so, well, so gosh darn NORMAL.

    It seems that way, then the next moment I am directing my pet to join me in the bathroom, because it has been some time since I have treated her to a golden shower, and I have a desire to mark my territory. I don’t need a helicopter or a billion dollars (ok, that would be nice) to define me as a Dominant male. It comes from a much different place and so much of that place is based on the partner I have chosen (and who has chosen me) and the journey we have taken. It has been three years in the making, and we have detailed it quite extensively—the ups and the downs—in my blog.

    It still surprises me at times, the intensity of that thing we do.

    But I would not want it any other way.

    I am a 21st century Dominant male in suburbia, hear me roar.

    But not too loudly.

    You might wake up the children, and we have a busy day tomorrow.

    *name chosen to protect the innocents, and by “innocents” I mean “my children who might have teachers who read this.”


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  • The Art of Hand Sensual Spanking

    The Art of Hand Sensual Spanking

    What I am about to lay out for you here is the most amazing piece of information you are ever going to read, It is guaranteed to cure cancer, world hunger –  just by practicing the art of sensual hand spanking.

    The most intimate act I know of in spanking is sensual. Seductive and connective hand spanking. If it leads to a climatic orgasm by my partner there is no better compliment for me.

    1

    Having someone over my knee for the sole purpose of taking both of our breath away in the same flush of energy as making love is amazingly powerful and lush.

    Hand meeting the cool flesh of another and moving through gradual warmth to the full radiant heat of repeated rhythmic administrations from a simple flick of the wrist or the flattened thudy palm strike brings a rush our labored breathing.

    Don’t underestimate the power of the whole hand

    When I’m spanking I like to use every part of my hand. Fingers for stingy flicks of the wrist, particularly at the base of the bottom and the inner thighs. Firm full palm strikes that can change to light, fast, rhythmic cupped strikes right at the sweet spot of her vagina. By the way, this pushes stimulating vibrations right into her body. I also use the edge of my palm and what I like to call the spank and grab, which allows me to deliver both the sting of my fingers and the thud of heel of my palm. I have found, even just two fingers on the inner thighs can produce gasps and gentle moans.

    2

    The duality of senses

    Since I am notorious for my long sessions, I try to create sensations that forces the mind to think of where it wants to go. If I am spanking with my right hand, my left is softly exploring other parts of her body. Massaging the neck, her head, dragging my fingernails down her spine or even wrapping gently around her neck. If I am pulling her hair to whisper in her ear, my cadence with my spanking hand changes.

    Pushing down on the small of her back to accentuate her cheeks for sharp slaps is exquisite.

    The arc of a spanking

    For me, a spanking as I mentioned earlier, is similar to making love. There is the warm up, meant to engage the mind and body for what is to come. Easy soft to medium explorations of the entirety of her body. As it builds on, the intensity and the heat of my palm and her bottom begin to match up.  I can sense the energy exchange through her body movements pushing us both to the brink where everything becomes a blur of movement, breath and rhythms until we are both spent.

    3

    All of this is a short burst, which is what makes hand spanking so sensually enjoyable for me. And by the way, this stuff works every time…except…when it doesn’t.


    Featured image courtesy of Shutterstock

    All article images courtesy of Spanky_
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  • Why spank your wife?

    Why spank your wife?

    Hi, DH here! This is post is a long-overdue follow-up to my how to spank your wife post.

    I think the hardest part of our dynamic for me has been really understanding that Julia isn’t just acting submissive, she is submissive.  She really does need my loving guidance and leadership in our marriage.  And that is really the key: it’s within the context of our marriage.  She could handle her life just fine without me.

    And yet, she submits to me as her HoH.  I have the final say on all family decisions.  Although she handles paying the bills, major financial decisions are mine.  I set the rules for her, and I expect them to be followed.  It’s that we agree on this arrangement that makes this thing we do work for us.

    I’ve become fascinated by ttwd, and the effect it’s had on my marriage with Julia, and also the effect it has had on me as a person. Looking back, it seems clear to me that my new confidence in my own abilities and strength have allowed me to make the best decisions I could have made in a very tough year. The validation? I just got a raise! (And a week later “let go”.)

    Spanking your wife affirms your strength and dominance and gives you confidence that helps you in every area of your life.

    I know Julia has benefited as well. She started running in the last year, and has kept her commitment through rain, shine, backaches, and family visits. Today, I agreed to implement a new rule: if she misses a day of running, regardless of the reason, I’ll give her 7 swats with her least favorite implement, the wooden paddle. On the surface of it, that sounds pretty caveman-ey on my part. But the truth is that Julia wants it that way, so that having the threat of swats hanging over her head will “help get back into running again” after a break.

    Spanking your wife helps her build confidence and character, and motivation to complete tasks.

    Sometimes, our dynamic requires that I discipline Julia for breaking one of our rules. Our rules represent the contract on which we’ve developed and based our trust. Violations of that trust cause hurt feelings through unmet expectations. To clear the air, I spank Julia to discipline her. I lecture her during the spanking about how important the rule is, and how I need to be able to trust her to follow the rule. I ask her if she agrees, and we talk if necessary. But by the end of the spanking, the issue is resolved and doesn’t bother us anymore.

    Is it somewhat hypocritical for the man to spank the wife for an infraction, and get to skate by blamelessly when he screws the pooch? Yep. You don’t want to be that guy, trust me. Nothing feels worse than the reproach I’ve seen in Julia’s eyes, when I’ve let her down. But I’m the man. There’s nothing I can do except admit when I’m wrong, apologize when it’s necessary, and return to running my household.

    Spanking your wife provides her discipline when she breaks the rules and enforces your authority as head of the household.

    I’m also fascinated by the evolution of human behavior. Julia and I are currently watching the series Mad Men on Netflix. The first season is set in 1960, and every episode crackles with the tension between men and women. The men are men, and their attitudes are reflected in the jokes they tell: “I got a phone call at the bar saying my wife gave birth, and now I gotta pay for college!”  Men pride themselves on being strong, and weaker men are preyed on, even as they fantasize out loud about being more manly themselves.

    Fifty years later, it feels like evolution. In many ways, we just don’t think the way we did. Roles between men and women have changed as a result of the feminism movement, which has established the basic truth that women deserve equal rights. ‘Cause they’re, you know, people. Like men. The article that Julia posted sounds funny today, but the guy that said that men would be sorry when they stopped spanking their wives was right: men voluntarily gave up the right to lead their households. My generation wasn’t taught how to have a relationship with a woman, because of the rapid social changes that were going on in the 1970’s. I think men conceded their authority in relationships, and the result has been broken families.

    Don’t get me wrong: I don’t think a ttwd/spanking relationship is right for everyone. It requires consent, consistency, trust, and mutual agreement between both parties. But I believe that the taken in hand movement is almost an unconscious human expression of an evolutionary trait that we’re not ready to leave behind.

    Spanking your wife could be a human trait that shouldn’t be left behind, at least for people who need and thrive on it.

    What do you think about why you should spank your wife? Or as a wife, why you should be spanked? 😉


    This article and all associated images within the article have been republished with permission from Julia.

    Please visit her website to view the original post and more.


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  • Who should you have your first threesome with?

    Who should you have your first threesome with?

    Who to choose for your first threesome is daunting a question that couples face when planning their first threesome. Is it a friend or stranger? The answer will impact the experience and possibly the relationship.

    A friend is someone who is known, such as a: colleague, co-worker, acquaintance, or close friend. As a choice, a friend offers a degree of predictability, they are easily accessible, and the choice provides a sense of security. Choosing a friend means minimizing a lot of vetting and the taken time getting to know each other. It can also mean that the sex is more intimate and meaningful.

    At this point, choosing a friend seems like the perfect choice? What about a stranger? A stranger is someone that is met for the sole purpose of having a threesome. Sometimes they may be become a friend but the foundation of the relationship remains that of group sex. Meeting a stranger for a threesome can be scary since it means speaking with someone who is unknown and before the threesome happens, it means building enough trust for sex to occur.

    Properly vetting a stranger offers many things a friend cannot. The biggest advantage for choosing a stranger is privacy. There is less of a risk of friends, your employer, and family discovering your experience. Also, I believe that choosing a stranger offers another advantage and that advantage is a lower chance of emotional attachment.

    This leads to the question, is a friend really the best choice? Granted a friend means having a threesome will occur faster and more likely be more enjoyable. However there is still one remaining question regarding choosing a friend, how does the friendship continues once the threesome ends? Are you willing to lose a friend to have a threesome?

    If they have an attraction for your partner is it likely they will pursue them or is there a chance of emotional involvement that will lead to the destruction of your relationship with your spouse? At this point, a stranger seems a more obvious choice. However, do you believe they are trustworthy? Do you feel safe around them?

    Speaking from experience, using both friends and strangers for a threesome, I lean towards choosing a stranger. Let me explain from a first hand situation experienced a several years ago whereby we had invited a friend. My wife knew him and he was someone with whom she had a curiosity. We agreed that if it was going to happen, it would be a one-off situation. After a quick phone call and a few hours later, the evening was probably the hottest night of my life thus far. I watched him fuck her and watched his cum dripping out of her. Up to that point, everything went perfectly. However, we eventually lost him as a friend and she suffered remorse afterwards.

    In contrast, we had another experience several months prior to the above-mentioned. This time, it was with a stranger and it took a few months to happen. It started innocently with him flirting with her. Slowly their interest in each other grew and we talked about how she would like to fuck him. The talk began as a fantasy and how it would feel for her, if he did fuck her. Then, as time progressed, the conversation shifted from being a fantasy to a ‘what if,’ conversation. She was still hesitant about going through with it and I was happy keeping it as a fantasy. One day after returning from flirting with him some more, she told me they were talking about wanting to fuck alone. We set some basic rules and it finally happened. When she returned, it was quite arousing for the both of us.

    From my own personal experience, if I am to answer to the question as to who I would recommend for someone’s first threesome, my answer would be to invite a stranger. A stranger can take longer to arrange because a level of trust needs to be built and the initial sexual enjoyment may be lesser. However, the arrangement can be less complicated and easier to end. This can mean a more stress free experience for all involved.


    Web Site: http://www.3somes.info
    Books:  Diary of George and Melissa: Complete Edition
    Please Share My Wife with Me
    Battling for Melissa


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  • My encounter with G on Ashley Madison

    My encounter with G on Ashley Madison

    It was time to pull the trigger on this AM thing. “AM” by the way is lingo for “Ashley Madison”. I have to say that I am extremely impressed with the quantity (notice I did not say “quality”) of male suitors that have tried to contact me. I am not sure how G and I found each other but we began to chat in a matter of fact way on yahoo. Oh, here is another little AM insider secret, apparently AM charges to chat on their site among other things. I just realized this last night. I was wondering why all these men directed me to yahoo to chat. One of them made a comment about the paying thing.

    Now aside from being horny, I am also extremely frugal when it comes to paying for shit that I know is available for free.

    So back to G. We actually began chatting as I was trying to collect information for the blog. Poor, sweet G hasn’t learned yet that just about every interesting thing I learn or do finds its way into one of my blogs eventually.

    Don’t worry G. If you are reading this I will be kind.

    So G like the rest of us is horny and not gettin’ any from his wife. What fascinated me about G was that he has been on AM for two months I think he said and already met 8 different women. Impressive right?

    Am I missing something or at one point in a young woman’s life is that a turn off? Oh well, like I said in the interest of the blog lets press forward.

    So G was telling me about the women he came across. Quite frankly, I find it hard to believe that none of them appealed to him but he said they didn’t and based on some of the crazy men I have come across, I trust him. At one point in our chat he said something about me being the only normal woman he’s chatted with. Now THAT’s saying something! Then he asked me to lunch. Lunch is innocent…right?!?!?! So I agreed.

    Okay so here is my issue and will probably always be my issue. My issue is TIME. How in the world do women get away for hours at a time for these encounters? At one point G mentioned that if we hit it off we will have a “long lunch”. While that was an incredible turn on for me, the stress from trying to account for hours of my time nearly drove me to cancel but I pressed through. As sleazy as it sounds I opted for skipping lunch and heading straight for “dessert”. That was G’s joke. I want to give him credit for it.

    So our arrangement was to meet at a hotel and this is what happened:

    We met, we fucked…end of story. No Sorry, just kidding. That was cruel wasn’t it?

    Actually G established the room and texted me the number. I headed directly up once I got to the hotel. I made excellent time by the way and now feel incredibly guilty because G said it took him about an hour and 20 minutes to get there and well … it took me 20 minutes. Sorry again, G.

    So G greeted me and introduced himself. Awkward for both of us. Then he started kissing me. Now, I asked him if anybody told him he was a good kisser. He said he didn’t know. I told him I was saying “YES”. Good kissers are generally good in bed from my experience. Really, I was taking a chance but I was glad when he started kissing me and I immediately started to get wet.

    We started to undress each other and I could feel that he had an erection pretty much right away. Another turn on and G I forgot to mention that you have a BEAUTIFUL dick!

    Once we got our clothes off, he immediately went down on me. Can I tell you that this guy had talent? Hey, isn’t that the name of a television show? He knew just where to run his tongue and it felt amazing. All I could think was “Dude, what the fuck is wrong with your wife?!”

    OH MY GOD! I totally forgot to mention that G had an accent! I LOVE accents !!! At first I couldn’t place it. Was it Russian? German? Turns out it was Greek/Lebanese. His voice ran right through me as well as his eyes. He had beautiful blue eyes and I looked directly into them whenever I could. He kept telling me to smile and all I kept thinking about was how good he felt and “What the fuck is wrong with your wife?!”

    He kept asking me what I was thinking and I kept telling him that I wanted his dick inside of me in the worst way but he held off. It was a tease and a turn on but I wanted it. When he finally agreed, it did in fact feel amazing. He made a comment about me being wet. Well DUH! Dude, you were doing all the right things to me!

    He just kept flipping me from side to side. I got on top of him which by the end, was determined to be our favorite position for the day. I think the condom sort of spoiled it for him and I am regretting now not picking them up myself although I would have probably gotten the same kind. We lay in bed after we both came … him once and me several times. I think he was questioning whether I came or not. G I CAME okay?!?! You were amazing what can I say!

    It was surprisingly nice, lying in bed and chatting. He told me about his family and about his job. I told him about mine. I lay there thinking that I was comfortable, I liked this guy and was completely turned on by him. At one point, he said to me “So what are you going to write about this in your blog?” and I thought that was funny because that is pretty much what I was wondering myself.

    I promised to be “kind” mainly because it was a wonderful experience for me and even though I told him I had fun, I am not sure that he believed me. So G if you are reading this, I hope you believe me now. Sadly, the encounter had to end. It was several hours that I had stolen for myself and I enjoyed them entirely.

    I asked G if he would be online tonight. He said probably not and we started talking about sports only to come to the realization that he is a Yankees fan and I of course am a Phillies fan.

    Oh, G and I was beginning to think the day was nearly perfect.
    And I wonder what G is thinking of now.


    This article has been republished with permission from Kitty.
    Please visit Kitty’s blog to view the original post and more of her posts here thesecretlifeofnaughtykitty.blogspot.com


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  • Why does spanking and corporal punishment turn people on?

    Why does spanking and corporal punishment turn people on?

    For spanking enthusiasts, even the mention of the ‘S’ word can trigger switches in the libido. Spanking fetishes go hanOTK_001 - Ad in hand with active imaginations and as an artist, I believe that art is one of the most potent sparks to human imagination. Put art and spanking into the same mix, and pow! It’s an ideal coupling, and spanking/corporal punishment artwork abounds in huge volumes, as even a casual search of Tumblr will demonstrate.

    Why is there such a proliferation of spanking and C/P art out there? I suppose the question should really be—what is it about spanking and ritualized corporal punishment that appeals to some people on a sexual level? And I don’t believe that has a simple answer. It is often not a purely masochistic impulse. The pain is essential, since without it, there is no incentive for the anticipatory suspense, the adrenaline rush of fear, or the release of endorphins as a countermeasure. For some, it is the thrill of finding pleasure in acts which are not meant to be pleasurable, a sort of forbidden fruit; for others, it may be a role reversal that helps offset power hierarchies we are forced to deal with in everyday life; for some, it is a release of the inner child; still others just enjoy the jolt that a smack on the buttocks sends through the body’s nervous system directly to the genitalia. (studies have actually been made that prove this to be true).

    I am not a psychologist and won’t pretend to sound like one. There are plenty of qualified opinions out there worth more than mine. Yet, in spite of clinical analysis, there remains a strong air of mystery over the appeal of spanking, and the many varied role-playing scenarios that surround it. Mystery itself has an irresistible and universal appeal, and the most enduring mysteries are those which invite exploration, but forever elude exacting, scientific conclusions. Spanking and C/P meet those criteria like a glove.

    As an artist, that makes the subject irresistible – not just as an exploration into human sexual psychology, but on a lol2012 - Apersonal level as one with a lifelong fascination for spanking. Illustrating the fantasies that a spanking fetish evokes is both a challenge and a cathartic release. I enjoy attempting to capture a particular moment, or suggest a story with a single image. It might be the husband who came home drunk at 3 am to find his wife waiting with a hairbrush in hand, or a still defiant spankee being sent to fetch a more formidable weapon, or a young lady who planted a Playboy magazine in her brother’s room so she could spy on Mom spanking him for it. To be sincere about art, I think one ought only do what appeals to oneself, and not attempt to cater to the viewer. Those of a similar mindset will respond, and the heck with the rest.

    That is why I only illustrate female dominant situations. Male dominant scenarios are far more popular, and I could reach a much broader audience through that approach, but reaching that wide audience is not why I do art. I would rather engage with a smaller, kindred audience. Whether it’s an angry 1950’s housewife, an outraged babysitter, a stern teacher, a professional disciplinarian, or a vixenish girlfriend, those are the iconic female images that never cease to awe, and perpetually wield sovereign power over whatever corner of the male psyche that resists the inevitable progress of ageing. Illustrating boyhood fantasies about womanly laps and deliciously stinging backsides keeps the inner child alive and the imagination active and healthy.

    Nobody has ever said it better than Jean-Luc Godard:

    “Art attracts us only by what it reveals about our most secret self.”


    All images courtesy of RedRump
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  • I am a Top and wired that way

    I am a Top and wired that way

    One definition

    “The person in control during a scene or in play, but may or may not be a dominant”

    Being a top is being part of the world of BDSM, having a fetish, being turned on by certain things that the main stream community or as some say being vanilla, would class as weird or perverted. Logically, I so pose it is a path that has deviated from the mainstream, in other words perverted.

    A top is a part of a group classed as dominants. They can be both male and female. Daddy, dom, master, mistress, domme, stone and sadist are all part in varying degrees of the same group. This group is part of another group, but not always if you take the definition strictly, called fetishist—one who gains sexual excitement through a fetish. In extreme cases, one may be unable to attain sexual gratification without the presence of the object (or at least fantasizing about it).

    As for me, I am a fetishist for sure, because it does excite me. Although i am quite happy having sex without it, I am also a plain and simple top and as the definition above states that i am not as dominant as others. I have no real desire to be a master or a daddy; I don’t want to own a slave or be in a d/s relationship. But what I do like are ladies with a submissive side. Ladies who like to be spanked and caned and everything in between and that can be in the bedroom or just general play with people who enjoy being punished by others.

    But where did it all start, where did the obsession and cravings come from?

    As far as i can recollect, it was summer and the start of a new decade; the 1970’s. I was 8 maybe 10 and playing in the garden. The kids next door were older by at least 5 years and although I had no thoughts of girls then, I remember the daughter to be very slim and attractive. There was a bit of an argument going on and as I listened, the girl answered back quite loud to her father. I have no memory of what the argument was about or how long it lasted but one sentence has stayed with me to this day.

    “You’re not too old to go over my knee young lady.”

    Even now after 40 years, I can remember the words clearly and wondered if that was the catalyst for my long obsession with a certain part of the lovely female form and my own harsh hand. To an extent it was but I now understand that it did not suddenly turn me into a spanker, it has always been in me, it is part of me. However, over the years, i have not hurt anyone (if you understand what I mean) and looking back i have enjoyed every last minute because:

    I AM SIMPLY WIRED THAT WAY.

    BOB


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  • The girl behind the glory hole—Part II

    The girl behind the glory hole—Part II

    Read Part I of The Girl Behind the Gloryhole here

    Mike had said “no talking,” and at first I thought that meant we had to remain completely silent. No, it just means no long conversations. Three cocks into my first day, and a tap on the door from Deirdre would let me know I’d already had my first complaint. I didn’t tell the last guy what a massive, handsome prick he had, and the best-tasting helmet I had ever had in my mouth. “They like that kind of thing,” she laughed. “And they leave bigger tips as well.”

    So after that, every cock that I sucked was … well, you can imagine. And if two came in together (and I got my first of those that lunchtime), then both of them were so hot and hard that “I wish I had two mouths so I could taste you both at once.”

    I learned to make sounds in the back of my throat, moans of pleasure, of hunger, of greed. Well, I didn’t exactly learn; I already knew how to do that. I’d just never thought about it in the past, because they always came out naturally. Now, I conjured them out of nowhere, and they all added to my customer’s delight.

    There are the guys who tell you precisely where they want to cum, and it’s your job to make them believe they have done so. “So sweet on my tongue … so thick on my face … it’s dripping from my nipple s…” —and more than once I’ve laid it on so thick (figuratively speaking—unlike Cass, I always fill the waste bin) that a sucked soft cock is suddenly coming back to life, and the first time that happened, I was jerking him in one hand while hanging out the cubicle door, asking one of the other girls what do I do?

    Give him a freebie? Ask for straight CASH? Neither. Press the other buzzer, and someone would come and explain the situation to him nicely. You’ve already had what you paid for. If you want it again, you pay up again. And, like I said, they explain it nicely. This one paid again, and yeah, he left a great tip as well.

    The MONEY

    Compared to some of the places I’ve heard about, Mike is a saint. Thirty percent of what the customers pay goes to the house. But the other seventy goes to the girl. There’s more than one joint in this same town that flips those percentages completely, but Mike has so many other sidelines running here as well, from the coffee shop out front (the original cafe), to the liquor in the back room, the peep show and dirty films, and probably a few lines I don’t want to know about, that he can afford to be a generous employer. As for tips, we throw into a communal bowl and divide them up at the end of each shift. On a good week, I can earn my next month’s rent; in a good month, I can pay off half a term’s tuition.

    Hygiene

    We get plenty of mouthwash with a brandy infusion. For obvious reasons, condoms and dental dams are forbidden, unless the customer specifically asks for them—and one or two do. But baby wipes are not out of place and we all get checkups on a regular basis, for our sake and for the customers’. I’ve only ever had one case where a dick looked like it might not be as healthy as it ought to be (no, you don’t want the details) so I pressed the buzzer, the other buzzer, and whatever transpired on the other side of the wall was said softly and persuasively enough that I never heard another word about it.

    Problems

    Well, there are the ones that Deidre warned me about, the ones who don’t feel they got their MONEY’s worth, or demand their money back altogether. Mike handles them. The ones we’re on our own with are, to put it gently, the gents who are either so excited, or so nervous (and occasionally, so out of shape or otherwise ailing) that they can’t get an erection to begin with.

    Those are the ones we talk to sweetly, softly, try and coax them into some kind of life with loving words, and it’s surprising how often that works. Or you suckle on their softness for a while and … I didn’t even know this was possible, but it’s a lot more common than you might think; you bring them to orgasm without them even attaining a decent erection.

    Or there are the poor souls who really are a lost cause and you send them away disappointed because there is nothing else you can do. But you know what’s strange? They are often the best tippers of all. They may not have got what most guys come for, but maybe they got what they needed the most, which is a few words of sympathy, a few words of affection, something that helped them see that their dysfunction is not the end of the world.

    And if they should return a few days or weeks later, and mention that their last visit prompted them to go see their doctor, and he was able to fix their little problem, then that’s just terrific. I’ll be honest, I’m not a fan of little blue pills and things; I’d rather see someone get help for the problem, and not get fobbed off with some chemical that will mask what’s really happening. If I can point someone in one direction rather than the other … well, let’s just say, those are often the occasions when I enjoy my job most of all.

    And enjoyment is important. I said before, I view my work as a series of transactions; the customer’s need being fulfilled by a capable professional. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that at least a couple of times every shift, which means four or five times in each working day, I am confronted by a cock that I could happily take home and make a fuss over all night.

    I like the middle-aged ones the best. It surprised me just how quickly I learned to tell them apart. Some of the girls say a cock is a cock, but they are either lying or they are jaded. For me, every penis is different and while I’ve definitely trained myself to see the good points about each, there are those where my training just goes out of the window and I feel like a first-timer all over again. Sucking not because it’s my job and I want a good tip, but because I want to make its owner feel good, because doing so will make me feel good too.

    The first time I ever orgasmed purely from the excitement of giving head, I was with a college boyfriend in his car on a road trip some place, and I put it down to the thrill (not to mention the insane illegality) of sucking cock in a moving vehicle. Now I know different. It doesn’t need to be the right circumstances. It needs to be the right cock.

    So even on those days when, to put it bluntly, blowing strangers really is the last thing I want to be doing with my time, at the back of my mind there is always the caveat—until the right stranger comes along. Because then, it’ll be the only thing I want to do, and my only regret is the time-wasting rule. Mike wants them in and out in ten minutes. Sometimes, it’s been fifteen and I’m still only just getting started.

    But never, ever mix business with pleasure. Nobody knows that I work here; none of my friends even knows this place exists. I would never date a customer, or even give him a clue as to who I am … their fantasy, whether they know it or not, is the disembodied mouth and voice on the other side of the glory hole, who will give them what they need without question or qualm. And mine … well, my fantasies are that I’ll keep on loving my job for as long as I need the money, and if I’m lucky maybe for a while after that.

    We all need to work, to eat and pay rent, and most of the jobs in the real world today seem determined to keep you on your knees till the day you retire. And given the option of sucking figurative ass or literal cock … well, I made that decision eight months ago.


    This article has been republished with permission from Chrissie Bentley


    Feature image courtesy of Shutterstock
    Have an amazing experience or tips you like to share on SimplySxy?
    Drop us an email at editorial@SimplySxy.com!

  • The girl behind the glory hole—Part I

    The girl behind the glory hole—Part I

    The Cafe Aphrodite is not one of the city’s best known attractions, even among the red light crowd. For a start, we’re well off the beaten track, a couple of bus rides from where the rest of the action is, and even the taxis don’t like heading this far out. Our neighbors are no more glamorous than the newsstands, groceries, and broken down repair stores that the fringe of every city is overrun with. Our clientele are more likely to be bored laborers, passing shoppers and curious college kids than high rolling city slickers and businessmen.

    This probably explains how the place has been here so long. Across the rest of the city, across the rest of the country, the police have been closing the clip joints and strip bars faster than the girls can open their legs. But Mike’s been running this place for nine years and never been busted once.

    Which is great, because this is the best job I’ve ever had.

    I was expecting at least the rudiments of an interview, the day I finally plucked up the nerve to answer the vaguely worded advertisement at the back of the local free paper; decode the shadowed suggestions and hints that the dark voice who answered the phone let slip; and then show up at the cafe one wet afternoon. Yes, I was expecting an interview. Instead, I got a lecture. A very, very short lecture, because he’s not a man to use three words when a simple grunt will suffice. But, a lecture nonetheless.

    “Three rules. No talking, no time wasting, and no mess on the floor. Spit, swallow, smear it on your skin, I don’t care what you do. But I don’t want to see any cum on the carpets, none on the walls, and none on your clothes. Any questions?”

    I shook my head. He’d already shown me to my “office,” as he called it, a three foot square cubicle with pale lilac walls and, at varying heights on three of them, a series of holes. Through which the johns would poke their peckers, in expectation of the time of their lives. There was a pair of identical cubicles on either side, each one servicing three more walls worth of guests apiece. On a busy night, I imagined this as one of the happiest houses in town!

    “First few times, you’ll probably only be able to handle one at a time,” Deidre (a pseudonym), a forty-something bleached blonde, told me as I sat sipping coffee before my first shift began. “Give it a couple of days, though, and you’ll have three on the go at a time, one on each wall, and all three of them will believe that they’re the only man in the world. Assuming,” she added, “you’re any good.”

    She paused. “So are you?”
    “What?”
    “Any good?”

    I think I must have flushed a little, because her eyes softened and she smiled a little. “I think so…” I began, and she interrupted with a laugh. “You’ve never had any complaints yet, right?”

    “Right,” I smiled back.

    “You won’t get any here either. Or, at least, not many. There’s always the odd guy who will kick up a fuss, saying he didn’t cum hard enough, or you brought him off too quickly. But Mike deals with them, and they don’t complain for long. Most of our customers, they’re so happy to get a pair of lips around their cock, they wouldn’t know a ‘good’ blow if you spent all night giving tongue baths.

    “No, what I mean by good is—you’ve got to be quick. And you’ve got to be able to move around quickly. One night I had five cocks at once, all sticking through those holes like it was the most urgent thing in the world, and it was my job to agree with them.”

    “Five?” But there are only three walls, I was going to say, but Deirdre beat me to it. “They double up. Two guys staggering home from the bar, drunk and horny … they just bundle into a cubicle together and don’t think anything of it.”

    I tried to picture the scene from my angle, one dick at mouth height, the other in my hair … my god, you could get whiplash trying to please them both. But Deirdre just laughed, a warm sort-of-cackle, and started laying out a side of the job I had never even thought of.

    Mike did not offer any health benefits. But it had some, regardless. “It’ll save you a fortune in skin care products. If you grind your teeth or have TMJ, sucking cock is the greatest exercise in the world. I know, because it worked for me. And if you ever want to give up smoking …” she nodded at the Newport I’d lit up … “Well … it’ll help you out there as well. Every time you feel like a cigarette, just suck some cock instead.”

    I stubbed out my cigarette.

    “You’re up.” The door to the cubicle in front of me opened, and an absolutely stunning woman stepped out, looking like she’d just spent the day relaxing at the spa. In fact, she’d just spent three hours on her knees, but her skin glowed, her hair shone, her eyes danced and her smile flashed.

    Deirdre introduced me, and the girl, Cass, inclined her head, and then stood aside as I rose and walked into the cubicle. I looked around. Just as Mike said, the room was spotless; not even a balled-up tissue or two in the wastepaper basket, and the little hand basin was sparkling too. I adjusted a few of the cushions that were scattered on the floor, then took a deep breath and pressed the little buzzer that let the front desk know I was ready to begin.

    Okay. You’re probably wondering what sort of girl would willingly sign up to spend six hours day (in two shifts of three), five days a week, on her knees in a box sucking stranger’s cocks? Well, I’ll tell you.

    I’m twenty-eight, and I’m putting myself through college. So I need the money, and this pays well. Better than waitressing, better than dancing, better than stripping and, from what I’ve heard, better than whoring. I enjoy sex, of course I do. But I also see sex for what it is, as opposed to what we all dream it is. A physical transaction between two people, one who wants to get his rocks off, and one who is willing to help him.

    I love giving blowjobs, that‘s true. But sucking off strangers is very, very different to sucking off my boyfriend, or someone I’m involved with. Or even know. It’s not a love thing, it’s not a lust thing, and it’s not even a desire thing. It’s just … a thing. With someone you have feelings for, it can be the most intimate act imaginable. With someone you don’t know from Adam, it’s no different to giving them a massage. In fact, it is a massage, in a way. A part of your body is in contact with a part of theirs and if you can overlook the fact that it’s your mouth and their penis, as opposed your hands and their shoulders (and you can overlook it, a lot faster than you’d expect), it really isn’t that big a deal any longer. And if that makes you look at me with different eyes or not want to hear any more of my story, then that’s up to you.

    I suck cock for a living and I love my job. But that doesn’t mean I have to love every cock that I suck. I don’t love every drop of semen that they pump onto my hand, face, or onto my tits or anywhere else. I just need to pretend that I do.

    Part 2 of Chrissie’s glory hole experience continues here 


    This article has been republished with permission from Chrissie Bentley


    Feature image courtesy of Shutterstock
    Have an amazing experience or tips you like to share on SimplySxy?
    Drop us an email at editorial@SimplySxy.com!