Did I get the hots for my Masseuse?

It has been a while. Sit down, it is so nice to see you again. Yes, I know, too much time has gone by.
Yes, I remember writing about sex, liked my advice? Or the stories?
Good. I am glad you did.

Well, I was not able to keep that going? What not? Ah, the thing of being still this honorable guy, finding ways to incorporate some level of sex in my life outside of my marriage and still do it in such a way I would not feel guilty.

I failed miserably.

Oh, the marriage is fine. Better than it always has been. The sex still is most present by its absence and as I posted in my previous postings, over a year ago, is that I found a lot of release in the massages that provided me a happy ending. Actually, I shared this also with my wife, who actually did not mind. As long as it happened by hand, she saw it very much as a solution as well.
Keep in mind, as a refresher, we both knew very well that the void that existed in our sex life for my wife's medical reasons, had to be taken care of in some way to release that stress. And these massages seemed to be a wonderful solution to the problem. And they were.

One day, at the end of last year, I ended up with a problem at work; I sprained something in my back, and it hurt like hell. It was not something massive, but my left shoulder was all but working painlessly. But my regular legit massage place had a fully booked day. But, they mentioned, they also had a chain store actually close to my work. So I called them. And they would check what they could provide, as they had someone quit her job that morning, so they had a problem in their planning. They would call me back.
Ten minutes later I got that promised call. They could not take care of it, but, the masseuse that quit also had her own side-business, and she would take care of it if I wanted to based on the credit I had with the chain itself, and they would cover the costs out of my account. The only issue, I had to drive to her place which was in downtown Philly. I got her information, called her up, and she was nice and sounded proper, and would take care of me that evening.

When I arrived at the place, I wished that I had not. That was not downtown Philly, that was down and scary Philly. She was waiting on the front-porch, to help me get in. As it seemed to be, she did not have a side-business, but needed the money and planned to move back to Nevada. And she lived in with this family that clearly had money to spend on buying dope than spend on their kids.
The girl itself was a very nice, polite, and very talkative woman, blonde, semi-attractive but against better judgment I walked in. She guided me to her room upstairs and told me to undress and lay down on the table.

As appearances could deceive, she gave an absolutely amazing massage. Firm, but not too painful, and it helped. She could not walk around the table she had set up, so she stood on other furniture to actually get to me. And she kept talking, yap yap yap, but I cannot deny, the massage was great. Period. A solid legit massage and she put my shoulder back into working condition. During which I heard her life story, not a sobbing story, but one of a woman who knew she made all the wrong decisions, and now had to deal with the consequences, and she was. I liked her. Honestly liked her. Not my type of woman, but she was a strong, honest woman not taking shit from life.

I got dressed, she gave me a hug, and I was on my way.

And she was on my mind. Not in a sexual or romantic way. But I genuinely liked her, and with the holiday season coming up asked her that I would like to plan another massage before she would move out to Nevada, and that I would not mind paying her in advanced. She was happy, and send me her PayPal information to get her the $70 for the hour long massage.
Fuck it. She had two sons, I had seen where they lived and I had some extra left, so sent her some more and told her to spend it on some gifts for the holidays.

Two weeks later we had the massage planned, now in a hotel near my work as she stayed their until their trip a day later. She welcomed me excitedly. Told me how much I helped out and that she appreciated it so much and not ask for anything. She had me lay down on the table, and now she could walk around it, and massaged me. My back again done so perfectly. I honestly wished she still worked, because it is hard to find a masseuse that does everything right.
I turned over after I completely lost track of time, listening to her constant talking. I really liked her, her massage was perfect, but the talking. Opening my eyes I noticed that her jeans had gone and she was massaging me with her bra and panties on. I looked, but did not actually talk about it.
I heard more about the misery of her past. But again, not in a whiney way, a 'feel sorry for me' way, but literally like 'I have gone through that, I can beat anything'. A fire, and 3rd degree burns on her body.

What?
I had not seen these when I looked at her.
I told her so.

"Oh, absolutely", and she un-clipped her bra, and showed me a barely noticeable, but definitely a scar on her right breast.  Of course I had difficulties focusing on the scar. It looked almost like discolored skin than scar tissue.
"My body handles scars really well.", she said. Looking at it herself. "Touch it. You will feel it is really soft, and not thick as it usually is with people."

Fuck. She did ask it? Who am I to ignore it. And I touched her skin just above her aureola. It indeed felt like normal skin.

"Third degree?" I asked. I have seen scar tissue a lot before, and my wife being an MD had a lot of material about it as well. And never was a major scar almost so very well blended in the normal skin as it was with her.

"Don't believe me? I had both my boys with a c-section, and take a look." she said, and she pulled her panties a little bit down, not enough to see things that really started to interest me, but - well - what do you know. There was clearly the mark of a c-section, also discolored, but not the slightest bump.
I did ask softly, more because my throat dried up than anything else, if I could touch it.
"Sure", she said, got my hand and rubbed my fingertips over the scar but the panties snapped back over it.
"Wait". She pulled down her panties, stepped out of them, and placed my fingertips against it again. "See?".

By that time of course I had no interest in that piece of scar anymore. "Can I... touch it?" She looked at me with a smile, stood with her legs slightly further apart and said "Sure you can."

As I had my hands between her thighs, my fingers feeling the moist edge of her lips, it just all felt so weird. She continued massaging me, and nothing sexual about the way she touched me. Which could not be said about me. And she kept talking, even as a finger slid inside of her, and I felt how easily that insertion took place.
At one moment she stopped, looked at me, smiled and then softly touched me. Lotion was unnecessary; I have quite a lot of pre-cum. She gently played with me as my hands discovered all of her body.
Were my experiences with the other masseuse that once the soft touch starts it is ending pretty soon, this woman took her sweet time. Talked, giggled, massaged a bit regularly and then went back to her business pleasing me.

I asked her if I could maybe, please, lick her. And she told me I could not, those were services that she did not provide. I said I understood. I did, but my body did not.
It took actually an additional 30 minutes before she brought me to my climax.
She told me to keep laying down as she cleaned me up, then pointed me to the bathroom for a shower or a bath. I did, and as I came out, she came to me, still naked, hugged me, gave me a kiss on the cheek and told me that she loved it that I did not push myself on her and that she enjoyed my company. If it was real or not, maybe related to the elevated pre-payment did not matter, she honestly gave me a wonderful feeling. Besides giving me an awesome massage, an incredible sexual experience, she actually made me happy.

When I walked out I noticed that she has massaged me for almost 4 hours.

Sadly enough, like said, she moved back to Nevada. I actually still email with her, and she keeps me up to date how she is doing, how life is treating her, and sometimes those emails are very happy, sometimes heart breaking, but they still feel very honest.

(No, the photos don't show my masseuse, although she looked like her. I thank teentugs very much for letting me - eh - borrow - the photos :) )

My Impossible Wish List

It is already spring and a while ago since I did my last post. It maybe not so weird as very little has happened over the last couple of months. I have been extremely faithful which is actually a good subject here.

When I had encounters with other women, sometimes as a relationship, sometimes as a business deal as a 'service' or during a massage visit where at least part of my desires were satisfied. It sounds so weird but I very well understand that what I am looking for is most likely something I will never find. And that idea starts to settle.

Yes, I have to admit, the massages are a real relief.

As I wrote in earlier postings is that I indeed find a lot of relieve now with massages and visiting an escort. But that is simply satisfying on a physical level. Don't get me wrong, I personally think it is a great way to find that relieve while not getting involved into something disastrous. Better yet, believe it or not, my wife is actually up to date about it as well.
If you have followed my earlier postings, the sexless situation in our marriage is not completely unexpected, and having a sexual connection going on outside of the marriage that does not involve 'feelings' is also something she saw as a good solution.

But that also made it very clear, sex is just 'sex' if no feelings are involved. I loved being with the escort; she was cute, sweet and very sexy. My masseuse is sweet, cute, not very sexy but gives a hell of a massage and knows what makes me feel exceptionally satisfied.

But the problem is, nothing is expected of me. Oh, to fork over the dough, of course. It is not a bad thing; because it indeed gives me all the love at home, and all the sex as a service. So, perfect solution, no?

Well, no.

With an escort, it is almost like 'shopping' which is actually
what I did not like so much. The woman was beautiful in a girl-next-door
look, but still, it is too arranged. Too, weird.

As I said, nothing is expected of me. During the massage I am just laying on the table, have to turn over when my masseuse tells me, and just be showered and trimmed when I arrive. She'll take care of everything else.

The escort filled me with all the praise. That she loved more heavyset guys that have chest hair. She loved everything about me, even let me kiss her and kissed back passionately. And I loved licking her, cannot help it, but I also wanted to prove myself to her.
But I do not know if everything was real, and I assume it was not. Who knows. It does not matter.

But that is the problem, I want it to matter. Sex with someone who wants you badly, just like you want that someone, is something so very special. The desire to be with that person, touch her, discover her... the real passionate lust. Not lust for sex, but the lust for that someone.

And that makes what I am looking for so much more difficult to find and that I am starting to realize that maybe, just maybe, I will be settling for just what is happening right now.
Because I want to feel passionate for a woman, love her without the love as in a relationship. And I want her to feel absolutely the same towards me. Discrete, beautiful, sexy, and desiring the companionship as much as I do while also understanding that being married brings in a lot of agenda collisions.

So, if you dissect that wish-list completely, it is like asking for world-peace and the perfect apple-strudel a la mode at the same time. It is not going to happen.

Ah, but then, don't you need to set your aim high?

When Cheating Becomes... A Chore

Not too long ago I was invited to a woman's house for just simply oral sex. I missed it so much. Giving oral sex is to me much more intimate than just sex, because it is so much more up close and personal. I do enjoy it the most of all the sexual acts. And this woman was craving it, since most partners did want to fuck her, but did not want to lick her. 

And I loved every single moment of it. It just was delicious. She was clean, sexy and absolutely a Michelin star quality. After she had orgasmed intensely she rewarded me with returning the favor. I have had a number of blow-jobs of different women during my life, but I have to be honest that hardly any was really good or interesting. But this lady was amazing. I could have it going on for hours the way she did it. But the moment did arrive and I enjoyed a very intense orgasm myself.
When I left, she begged me to visit her again soon, when her husband was away. As she did as well through email later on. Even then, although our arraignment was just to have oral sex, she told me that if I accidentally would slide it in, she might not refuse me being inside of her.

Another lady who I wrote with for over a year with who I have a normal friendship, turned the heat up underneath it and invited me over to meet her because her husband did not satisfy her. And she wanted to rent out a motel room so badly to just experience pure lust, the two of us.

I ended up meeting no one. Oh, believe me, parts of me wanted to badly, but it felt just as if it wasn't worth it anymore. I did not cheat often on my wife since I had to confess to her that I did it, now almost three years ago. Actually, I only have been once inside of another woman since then. 
And it is not that the scenery has changed, but more that something feels like it is becoming a bother. It becomes sex for the sex. When I was younger, I could have sex with anyone. I had sex with models, as well as women who were - slightly said - not so pretty. Some where young, some were twice my age. It was more about how sexual someone was that made me want to be with them. And although I behaved so very well before I lost my virginity; I made up a lot after that moment in time. 

But now, especially after I felt the fear of my life slipping away by leaving it in my wife's hand

what to do after I confessed to her, it feels that it should be more than just sex. My body aches for it, begs me to find a woman and just fuck her. But my mind is not that blend. I want to find a woman who is unique, gorgeous, delicious and lovely and smart. I want to be really attracted to her, wanting to be with her and thinking of her when I close my eyes. So that when we can be together alone, the desire and passion is much more intense than a 'quickie'.

I hear my old self beating me up, calling me a fool. But maybe it is more life experience. I would like to be with someone special if I am going to risk it all again. Someone gorgeous, and someone who puts me under her spell. It is too easy to cheat, harder to do it right.

A Delicious Meeting (A Cheater's Confession)

Well, I can't write a blog about cheating, without actually going into a couple of the adventures once in a while. And I have been on the different sides of the cheating; the one cheating, the one cheated upon, and the one cheated with. So, let me start out with a short one. This actually was one of the times that I met simply for the sex.

I met Jasmine online just 4 hours before I actually met her. And when I actually met her, we were in bed together within 5 minutes, and she had me in herself. The reason why I met her was simply because I was absolutely not thinking clearly, and posted a very direct posting online; the lack of sex for months and months, made me long so much for sexual attention, that I decided to post on Craigslist that I was simply looking for a hand job. Not even anything else, I just wanted so badly to feel a warm hand taking me and just releasing me.

Now, what is wrong with this picture? Ehm, Craisgslist. Even though it has gotten me into many very good situations, it is a wonder that I haven't had any negative experiences with it. So, when Jasmine responded not even half an hour after posting. She would not mind meeting me, but I had to come to her apartment. And with the message she sent me a photo of a pretty, early-twenty something black girl who lived not even ten minutes from my work. So, yes, to make sure there was no con, we decided to make a short phone-call before actually meeting. And on the other side of the phone she picked up, in a low voice that I actually started to worry if this might not be a guy who simply sounded a bit girlish.




Ah, those soft hands!

But hey, a horny man is not always on his most intelligent behavior, and I went over there, got to her apartment, and knocked. And every bit inside of me mentioned that I should maybe not do it, but, before I could think about anything, the door opened, and she was there, inviting me into a very empty apartment. The first thing I noticed was that she was taller than I was, and I am a good 6'3" But she was very pretty indeed. After a really weird quick introduction, she immediately invited me into the bedroom to lay down on the bed, and take my pants of. She set next to me, placed her hand on my immediately growing penis. Her soft hands did magic on me, while she did not even really seemed to put much afterthought in it. She held me between her fingers, looked at me while she slowly moved my skin up and down slowly. Then she looked at me, and said that it actually turned her on doing this. We both said nothing until just a few moments later, she looked at me again, while I had difficulties to pay attention while enjoying her incredible movements of her hand. "Can I fuck you?"

 

Now, this was really what I could not believe. Posting I would desperately love to receive a hand-job again, and this wonderful black lady mentions then she wants to fuck with me. And what was I to say? I could not say anything, but mumbled something that must have been approval of some sort or the other. She stood up, let her single-piece dress fall of her body, stepped out of her panties, and crawled towards me onto the bed. Her kisses were absolutely to die for, and without hesitation I felt her hand again on me, pointing me straight up, and the tips of her warm lips touched the head of my cock. Then, in one quick movement, she pushed her pussy over my cock, pressing her buttocks against my pelvis. And she had not been lying that it had turned her on. There was hardly the feeling of any resistance of the amounts of liquids that she was producing that acted as the best lubricant. Her rhythmic movements of her body were smooth, and delicious. Her breasts playing with my face. Feeling myself deeply inside of her made me crazy, and holding her head between my hands, we kissed deeply while our bodies never stopped their intimate dance.

Every time that I wanted her to change a position, she pressed me back into bed, while shy sat up straight and rode me the most perfect way. Her movements became teasing, and she looked at me when she felt that my cock started to make the familiar pulsating movements. Without any hurry to avoid me ejaculating inside of her, she got my cock at the root while I felt my sperm being launched, and it her pussy just as she stepped off me. She immediately looked at my semen-shooting cock , and studied it while I was still oozing. This attention was so incredible. She really enjoyed doing this, as had I. While laying there for a moment, she looked at me again and only mentioned that she would love to have that happening again soon. And that was it. I got dressed, she kissed me at the door, and I left. Awkward, but absolutely intense.

And yes, we did meet one other time, which was mostly the same intense encounter.  It might in many ways be not the smartest thing to do, but it was one of my most intense encounters. Even if it meant going in for another STD-check, Jasmine was absolutely amazing. Sure, the guild hit me a bit later, since I am not the guy for sex-only encounters. I like to know the person I am with, making it very special. But I have to admit, Jasmine was the only exception.