Enjoying Our Womanly Power

Jane’s email continuing, so there i was, A’s new wife holding my hand, watching two men and one woman dancing naked, then the woman led them by their dicks, one in each hand, to a bed at the room’s edge, lay on it, invited them to join her, one entered her, the other positioned himself for a blowjob. i think i was in mild shock that people should be so uninhibited.

A’s new wife was leading me back downstairs but on the way took me to this strange arrangement, a room surrounded by drapes and cushions and soft chairs, with a black cloth curtain hung down the middle so the room was divided in half, each half with its own door. she said watch this, and turned on a soft orange light. a few seconds later the black curtain moved and this dick appeared through it. i could see now that there were holes cut specially.

Then she went and took the dick in her hand, stroking it slowly, making it hard. come on, she said, have a go, they can’t see who it is, just like we can’t, all anyone knows is that it’s women this half, men the other. so R this was an exciting moment for me, i took this stranger’s dick in my hand, no idea of what sort of man he was, it could easily have been A for all i knew, i just held it and started stroking.

You know what R, i could feel it go harder and harder, and suddenly i felt like a seductress, filled with power. here was a new dick desperate for my touch. after years and years of T’s disinterest. i could feel my juices flow, in my mind and in my body. and i knew exactly what do to make his dick hard.

A’s new wife nudged me, i looked around, and there was another dick. so she pulled up a cushion and we both sat down and she worked on the new and i carried on working on mine. she gave me a big smile, i smiled back, both of us enjoying our womanly power. then when i next looked at her she was licking the dick, taking it into her mouth.

So i looked closely at mine, smelt it, gave it a quick lick, it seemed clean, so i started sucking too, wow, the pleasure of having an eager hard dick in my mouth. i didn’t know if he was going to cum, or if i wanted him to, but after a minute i could feel him pulling gently away, A’s new wife told me later that her man did too, it was usual, they wanted to save up their cum.

R, there was a lot of other stuff that went on but that encounter was enough for me personally, i needed to think about it a bit. so i went downstairs and had a couple of drinks until A took me home. i’ll send this email now and maybe tell you about other stuff some other time. Jxxx.

Uninitiated Neophyte

An email in my inbox from Jane but my daughter hovering around, doing that distinctive woman thing, waiting for the right moment to ask something, probably about staying out late or for some money. Changing her mind, however, finally departing the room, leaving me free at last to catch up with Jane.

Hi R, sorry about that, T came at just the wrong time, i had to stop emailing, i was buzzing anyway and the email made it worse and i wanted to act normal for T. he went straight to bed, but i didn’t want to resume, he’d spot it if i started sudden late-night activity on the computer.

So at the party this man asked if i wanted to dance, i was just about to get up, then A told the man i was a neophyte, his word, can you imagine, actually the whole shebang had a slightly forced superior air, normally it would put me off, like men wearing top hats thinking it makes them aristocratic, but here it added to the slightly unreal air, made me feel even more disconnected from the normal me.

Anyway, being an uninitiated neophyte, A explained, i wouldn’t understand that dancing was code for stripping off and getting sexual, and A said i wasn’t yet ready for that, asked the man to maybe ask after an hour or so when the neophyte had found her feet. the man was fine with that, wished me luck, went off in search of other partners. as one does at a dance.

Well i just settled down for a good strong vodka and A’s new wife came up, sat down, had a drink with me, got chatting, held my hand, metaphorically at first, then actually taking mine in hers, a sweet and reassuring gesture to a neophyte. then she asked me if she’d like it if she took me round, show me how it worked and i said yes please, that would be nice.

We both put on our masks and went upstairs to a big dark room with a dancefloor there was some dancing was going on, in varying states of undress. one masked woman had nothing on at all except some garment wrapped round her waist, to conceal a thick belly i assume. two men were leading her, their dicks in each of her hands. funny, i’ve never seen anyone else do sexual things before, it took me a while to adjust.

Jane’s email continuing, but my daughter coming into the room, daddy, can you come and help, there’s this homework I just can’t get right. Sure darling. Leaving Jane’s email for another time.

Sucking Me Unasked

My hormones jangling again at Jane’s email and her Australian adventures. The thought of a sex-party, seen through the wide-eyed stare of an innocent interested woman, containing a potent erotic charge.

Here in London, my wife departing for work with a brief peck on the cheek, a squeeze of my hand, and a smile. Another exhausting day in prospect for her, looking after others, their needs somehow never reducing no matter how much care they receive. Squeezing her hand back in admiration, have a good day darling.

But the hormones still urgent. Remembering, my last foray led nowhere, just that bland East London suburb and the child-woman and her controller. An event unpleasant to recall, as profoundly unsexual and ugly as could be contrived in deepest hell.

In desperation, trying Jenny’s phone. Her voice answering chirpily on the third ring, hi, I’ve been waiting for you to ring me, when are you coming? Arrangements quickly made.

Arriving early, walking around Finsbury Park, now familiar environs, feeling a sense of peace, knowing that in fifteen minutes we’ll be smiling in recognition and hugging and she’ll be sucking me unasked. Five minutes to go, a text message on my phone, hi baby I’ve left the outside gate open, just come up when you’re ready.

Doing so, closing the outside gate behind me, climbing the grimy stairs, tapping on her door. Jenny’s face appearing. Immediately, the sense of knowing each other, having something special between us. Both of us unable to stop smiling.

Jenny pulling away, telling me, I know you, you don’t care about what I wear, you just want me naked. Stripping off her gown, sitting on the bed, nothing on bar a g-string. Come on baby, take your clothes off quickly, come to me here.

Complying. Lying naked on the bed. Jenny kissing my face briefly, then chest, then straight to my cock, hard already, taking it in her mouth. A deep shuddering relaxation settling softly on my body. Jenny with her sucking and stroking, and her smooth skin and curves, ministering to my needs both physical and spiritual. Long minutes passing, Jenny timelessly patient.

Changing positions, licking her, putting on a condom, entering her, making love. Chatting, stroking, smiling. After an hour, sated, satisfied. The lack of orgasm, irrelevant.

Dressing, kissing her goodbye, leaving, the smell of her sex still around my mouth. Relaxed and at peace for the first time in weeks.

Glamorous, Desirable, Wicked

In my inbox, an email from Jane.

Hi darling R, well, exciting times here in australia, thanks for your email, you gave me courage, the thought of going to a sex-party was a bit strange and i felt embarrassed about even considering the idea, i half expected anybody i shared the secret with to screw up their face in disgust, but thanks to your email and a couple of other responses it came to seem almost a natural thing to do.

Still, thinking about it and actually doing it are two different things. or maybe not. i remember chatting with you in that pub we used to go to in pimlico, you said a new idea in the brain is like a foreign body in an organism, at first the antibodies attack it, but some ideas survive and then they seem natural and unthreatening and you wonder why you ever thought otherwise.

Anyway with me the thinking led quite quickly to accepting the idea in abstract, and that led to accepting the specific physical possibilities, and that led to impatience to get going. by the time A came round to give me a lift, i was quite tense and excited and on a hair-trigger and i was half hoping we’d get on with it right there in the car. i haven’t had an adventure like this, all for me, walking on the wild side, for too many years now, and this felt great.

A was good, he calmed me down on the drive, explained the ropes. don’t get pressured into anything. just stand and watch, if that’s what i want, lots of people get a thrill if people just watch.

He also gave me a mask, a black cat’s face, and suggested i wear it, lots of people do, especially until they get used to how things work, and besides, it makes people feel secure if anybody’s filming. i put it on and R, the transformation was complete, behind the mask i became a different person, glamorous, desirable, wicked, indifferent to the world’s opinion, willing participant in bacchanalia.

We arrived around ten o’clock with the party rocking but everyone fully clothed, quite a few in masks though. Then A told me that the naughty stuff was going on upstairs, he’d take me up any time, maybe i should get a drink first. so i had a gin and tonic and this man came up to me and asked if i’d like to dance.

R, this email is going to have to wait, i’ve just heard the front door slam and that means T’s home, i don’t want him around the place when i tell you what happens next, i’ll hit the send button now. Jxxx.

Vexed And Aroused

The thought of Jane’s impending sex-party in Australia running through my mind, an insistent low buzzing. Then watching a video of a woman in a French orgy, having an orgasm. The two becoming convoluted in my dreams, waking me in a sweat and with an erection. Walking around the house at night, two o’ clock, vexed and aroused.

No help for it but to see Jenny. Pondering her charms. Probably less likely to turn heads in a crowded room than my supermodel escort of last week, but somehow more capable of soothing my restless body. An hour with Jenny, two weeks of feeling happy. With anyone else, thrilling but less nourishing.

Trying her number. No answer. Oh Jenny, don’t abandon me. Trying again later, same result. And the next day. Jenny, Jenny, your arms are calling me.

Eventually, succumbing to alternative charms. Checking the escort website, searching for new girls within ten miles, adding some to my hot list. Scanning the hot list, picking out the most exciting. Phoning the first, no answer. The second, same. The third, responding.

Fixing the time. Arriving. Her apartment perched above tatty shops in East London, the area indistinguishable from countless others. Shops for car tyres, hardware, greasy food, laying bets on horses, cheap drinks.

The door opened by a woman looking nothing like the photo on the website, but very attractive. Her English good. Sorry, it’s not me you’ve come to see, it’s my friend, but she’s busy with a client, can you come back in half an hour?

Resisting the impulse to turn straight around and leave, thinking, this is why I need a woman, stop me being so irritable. Returning dutifully in half an hour, the door opening, the same woman appearing, come in, she’s ready now. Taking me to a small bedroom.

In the corner, a waif, bleached blonde hair, smoking, smiling shyly. The first woman telling me, she doesn’t speak English, but she knows what to do, I’ll take the money.

Looking again at the waif, thinking, she’s barely of legal age. Difficult to tell. Definitely not to my taste to be doing this. Reaching out my hand, touching her shoulder, fond like a father, making sure she understands that there’s no problem with her personally.

Turning to the first woman, saying, sorry, she’s lovely but not what I had in mind. The first woman protesting. Trouble feeling imminent. Pushing firmly but unagressively past her. Walking out the door, down the stairs, and along the pavement. My body feeling dirty, in need of a shower.

Woman’s Authentic Orgasm

The scene, a railway station in France, a train pulling in noisily. Stepping along the platform, a businesswoman holding an umbrella against the rain. A second woman approaching her, words exchanged, smiles of affirmation, cheeks kissed in greeting, the two walking together toward the camera.

Climbing into a car, chatting. The second woman’s voice soft and encouraging. The businesswoman’s initial slight tenseness beginning to relax. No, she hasn’t done anything like this before. Why’s she doing it, she’s not sure, just needs a little excitement. Yes, it’s fine to film. A shy defiant smile.

The women walking into an apartment, down some stairs, into a basement. Three men standing against a wall, naked bar white towels around their waists. The businesswoman’s clothes removed by the second woman, folded, stacked on a chair. The businesswoman’s hands covering her breasts and pubis.

The second woman taking her by the hands, her body now fully revealed. The body of a woman you’d meet every day, not excessively athletic or sculpted or skinny, or anything like a pornstar.

The woman being led to a metal table, padded on top, equipped with straps. The businesswoman lying on her back, submitting her hands and legs. The straps being tied. Her legs raised behind her, ankles near her ears. Her head leaning backward, immobile in a padded clamp. Her hips just protruding over the table’s edge. Adjustments made, wider to spread her. The camera lingering on her exposed privacy.

The men discarding their towels, approaching the table, stroking the woman’s body. One placing his cock against her lips. Her tongue licking it, her mouth opening, the cock going deeper. Another kneeling between her legs, licking.

The woman’s hips starting to move in ancient sexual rhythm. Momentum gathering. Her mouth releasing the cock, her body becoming absorbed into the cunnilingus. Her eyes closing, eyelids fluttering. Her lips and forehead clenching slightly. A low moan issuing. Her hips moving faster. The man’s face between her legs looking up at her face. The other men stepping aside, enjoying the moment, hands caressing the woman’s breasts.

The woman’s body stiffening. Her face softening, withdrawing into itself. Her hips lifting and holding. The low moan becoming more of a pant. Her eyes widening, staring at the nothingness of the ceiling. A sudden stillness, then her face breaking into a shy smile.

The men caressing her, positioning for penetration on the screen before me. My finger however clicking the stop button. An glimpse of a woman’s authentic orgasm, it doesn’t get any better than that, rather just enjoy the moment.

Womanly Inhibitions Abandoned

Making some coffee, re-reading Jane’s email, pondering her sex-party plans, finding myself with an insistent erection at the thought. My sweet baby Jane, always a lovely sexual woman, now she’s setting out on new adventures.

Pouring the coffee, holding the steaming mug, looking out the window, seeing people passing in the street, watching the women, wondering how many of them would go a sex-party. Some, probably. Others, not. All offended by the suggestion if asked. Reluctant until the moment of agreement.

Sipping the coffee, thinking, that’s the nub, the essence of a woman’s sexual magic, the modest persona on display, the possibility beneath of inhibitions abandoned. Just a possibility, no more. The key to seducing a woman, you can’t force the abandonment, all you can do is nudge it along. A challenge consisting mostly of being around at the right time.

A smart shapely woman walking down the street, unaware of being watched. My coffee aromatic and strong. Pondering, maybe she abandons her inhibitions sometimes, maybe not. The guy who’s there when she does, he’s lucky.

Returning to the coffee jug, pouring more. Thinking of the woman in the street. Will she, won’t she, abandon her inhibitions? The uncertainty greatly adding to her appeal. For her to abandon her inhibitions, they first have to be there. Real and not faked. And they need to be capable of being abandoned. Take those away and the sexual magic loses a lot if its potency.

A difficult duality, problematic for men and women both.

Now with Jane, a sudden shift. That electrifying event, the moment of disinhibition. Shared with me by email. No wonder I can’t get rid of this erection.

Emailing her, hey baby Jane, how exciting, your sex-party, you’ve always had such sexual loveliness, you can’t just keep burying it, you’ll bury yourself with it. So now you’re having adventures with it, I bet it makes you feel young.

As you say, you aren’t committed to actually doing anything, you can just watch, maybe leave if it’s seedy or tacky. But I hope it works out for you, that your womanly needs find some satisfaction there. Actually the thought is giving me a hard-on, it’s been there for more than an hour since I read your email.

So sweet Jane, enjoy your party. Let me know how it works out. Now, I must go, I’m going to have to do something about this erection you’ve given me. Rxxx.

High-Class Sex-Party Scene

In my inbox an email from Jane, its appearance somehow evoking the supermodel’s sex smells, maybe because Jane’s juices always flowed with wonderful remembered fruitiness.

Hi R, well, it’s amazing, i was resigned to a life of perpetual boredom, then i bumped into someone, the ex-husband of a friend from years ago, we got talking, he bought me coffee and seemed to be able to tell that i have a big hole in my life, so he just came right out with it and said that he and his new wife were big in some high-class sex-party scene, if i was interested he could take me along, no commitments, i could just watch if i want.

Well i was a bit flabbergasted, but he’s a really charming guy and he’s obviously been in this situation before, so he said, look, i expect you’ll just turn me down flat and you’re welcome to storm off and be offended, but before you do, i just want you to know, the reason i raised it is i’ve always found you attractive, take the invitation as a compliment, just leave it at that if you want.

So i smiled as if i was quite used to this sort of thing and found it a bit beneath me, and said i might think about it, as if implying that it would never happen. and he was quite chivalrous and bought me another cup of coffee and had the wit not to bring it up again and we discussed children and schools and things like that.

But anyway, R, now that the seed’s been sown the idea won’t go away, i’m bored of a sexless life and i’m not interested really in getting close with a lover, even if i could find one i liked, so what’s the answer?

So nothing happened for a few days, then i got an email from him saying how much he enjoyed the coffee and would i like to meet up again, and by the way, now i know how he gets his kicks, there’s a sex party this coming friday, if i did want to come along just to watch i’d be more than welcome, what tends to happen is that the fun and games go on upstairs and you can just stay downstairs if you want, having a drink.

So you know what i did, R, i said sure, strictly on the condition that I'm planning to stay firmly buttoned up, I'll come along to your party.

So now, R, i have some excitement in my life. i can hardly believe i said yes. tee-hee. love J xxx

Extreme Sexiness

Strolling through the Kentish Town throng, sunshine bright on the pavement, crowds in loud voice as if in medieval feast day. My mind still filled with the supermodel’s smile, my body still tingling from her skills. Feeling lucky to be alive and to be here today in Kentish Town, free to do the things I want to do.

Thinking, other men, how many of them have had an hour with a supermodel? Not many. How many would like to? In fact, how many gape at magazines, ogling the pictured women, dreaming of a world where they could have one of them? Most of them, probably. And here I am today, eighty pounds spent, same as the cost of dinner for two, probably less, and just done what for them is a hopeless dream.

Pondering, some men may achieve their dream, bed a supermodel, get married, celebrity wedding photographs in glossy magazines, years later, regretting the day they met, turns out all she wanted was his money. And now here I am, the fruits tasted, nay, guzzled, and I walk away free.

Remembering the feel of her skin, the curve of her buttocks, the smoothness of her pussy, the gently separating lips. Gently probing with my finger, feeling an increase in moisture, exciting and unusual sensation with an escort, usually they use lubricants. A woman’s natural juices, nothing more sensual, the smooth silken texture not capable of being reproduced in bottles.

On impulse, smelling my finger. Yes, how exciting, it’s still there, that sex smell, deep, earthy, sanguinary, lucky I didn’t wash my hands afterwards. The smell taking my mind straight back to her bedroom, her mouth round my cock, her legs spread for my fingers’ exploration.

Stopping in at a cafe, ordering a coffee, sitting down by the window, soaking in the scene. Occasionally, a surreptitious sniff at my finger, the world filling again with the supermodel’s essence, her extreme sexiness, the generosity of her sexual giving.

Pondering, not long ago I would have had all sorts of moral queasiness about being with someone like her, now it feels like an absolute affirmation of life and living.

Or Would You Prefer Another Girl?

Waking up this morning, loins jittery again, familiar sensation. Time to see Jenny.

Ringing her number, no answer. Probably too early to be with another client, maybe she’s with her children in Hungary. Searching the escort website, scanning, feeling slightly unfaithful to Jenny, ridiculous when she’ll have been with dozens.

Selecting one, ringing her number, arranging a time. Making my way along the thronging streets of seedy Kentish Town, raucous in late summer sunlight. Thinking, this is a mistake, I should cancel and wait for Jenny, this new escort won’t have the same skills. But persisting, the thrilling thought of new flesh drawing me forward.

Ringing her, hi, I’m downstairs. The door opening. A pretty face appearing. About four inches taller than me, supermodel proportions. Welcoming me in, smiling. Do you want me or would you prefer another girl? Oh, you, please.

Showing me into a kitchen, asking me to wait. Disappearing, presumably to tidy up a room. Other escorts coming in and out, grabbing water, answering phones, searching for things. Most of them very attractive, none of them beautiful like mine.

The supermodel returning, taking me to the room, taking the money, eighty pounds for an hour, stashing it elsewhere, returning. Chatting, smiling, removing our clothes. Leading me to the bed, lying me back, kissing my body, stroking my cock, taking it in her mouth. Occasionally forcing it deep, beyond the gullet’s usual restriction, a thrilling and different sensation.

Ten minutes of blowjob and my supermodel seemingly happy to go on forever. My fingers gently probing her pussy and anus, her body kneeling and spreading to allow access. Saying to her, stop awhile baby, I’ll cum too soon, I want to make it last. Her pretty face smiling, complying.

Chatting. Snippets of a life emerging. From the Czech Republic, studying, taking a gap year, six months work then six months travel, you can make more escorting than waitressing and it’s more fun if the man’s clean. Then one day it stops and she walks away and forgets it ever happened. A radiant innocent student smile on her face.

After a while asking her, hey baby, can you carry on as before, let me finish in your mouth. Sure. Her face searching out my cock again, taking it in expertly. My whole body swallowed in ecstasy. Timeless moments ticking by. The world gathering force, becoming still, my loins issuing in a twanging spasm. Her mouth and its pretty student face taking me deeper for the climax.

Relaxing for a minute, bodies together, holding her close. Rising, dressing. Kissing her cheek, thanks baby, you’re fabulous. Walking downstairs back into the noisy sunny street below.