HUNGER.
I'm starving for her!
Been thinking about her all weekend.
I'm in the supermarket, trying to get the weekly shopping done. But I can only think of her. I even think of her in combination with the food items I am selecting - (now there's a whole new range of erotic thoughts).
I'm looking at books in Borders and looking at nothing at all. The mental image that the text evokes in my minds eye is usurped by images of her, which dominate my imagination.
I'm in the Museum of Victoria on Sunday afternoon looking at the William Morris exhibition (cultured ain't I?) and admiring an armchair he designed in 1869. There is an accompanying picture showing the armchair situated in a sumptuous drawing room of the same period. I'm supposed to be admiring the design and fabric. But all I'm doing is imagining Isabella sitting naked in that chair. The picture shows this beautiful antique armchair in a room, in a mansion in Victorian England. I imagine Isabella and I alone in this opulently furnished room, with thick drapes and deep rich carpet. The fire is roaring. Outside it is snowing. She is sitting in the armchair; the soft afternoon amber light is spilling through the window and falling on her pale skin. She is naked except for a lace corset and shoes. I'm sitting in an armchair opposite her. She parts her legs for me. I gratefully kneel before her and dine on her beautiful cunt.
"Moving right along" says the guide
The crowd move on.
I slip away to a quite corner. Get Hallam Penthouse on my mobile and make a booking for Isabella for tomorrow morning.
The knowledge that I have done something practical to address this desperation is immensely relieving. I can at least concentrate again. I can now count down the hours till I will be with her again.
Thus, craving becomes excited anticipation.
TOUCH ME
For me, Hallam Penthouse is the most far-flung brothel in this city. There is no Melbourne parlour further from my home than this one. I don't normally call into this parlour unless I have business up that way. I have no business out here today. I'm just going for her.
I'm supposed to be there at eleven.
I'm there at ten forty. I must have subconsciously really hammered the old Merc in my enthusiasm to get there.
When she came to reception to meet me, it took all my willpower to stop myself from grabbing her and ravishing her right there on the carpet. She wears lingerie that make's me audibly groan with desire -- and boy, has she got the body for it.
She takes me to room ONE again. It seems to be our room.
"Before we do anything"..
"Yes?"
"I have to hold you. I cannot wait a another minute".
She lets me hold her. Her lingerie is nothing but bra and panties and those fucking- fucking-fucking-fucking-fucking-fucking-fucking-fucking-fucking-fucking-FUCK ME!!!!!!!! SHOES.
She must be feeling the roughness of my clothes against her tender skin. She doesn't seem to mind. I run my hand over her back. I contemplate asking if we can spend the next hour just doing this.
"I'll be back" she whispers.
She takes ages.
Probably punishing me for being too early, I think.
Finally returns.
"You came too early" she says. "I hadn't finished doing my nails".
Yep I was right, I think to myself.
I GIVE MYSELF TO YOU
She has leather-studded cuffs with links attached. The rattle of the strong silver buckles is exciting as she lays them on the bed between us.
Is she my toy, or am I hers?
I pick them up. She extends her arms. I buckle her wrists. She reclines on the bed. I use the links to attach her arms over her head on to the bed head.
I feel nothing but humbleness. But her vulnerability frightens me and I tell her so.
"Come here" she says.
I gently lay on top of her, supporting my own weight. I kiss her brow.
She wraps her leg around me. I feel the spike of her heel down the back of my leg.
"See I'm okay. You have no idea what I can do with these heels" she reassures me laughing. "Besides"
I don't ask her to finish her sentence.
I utterly gorge myself on her.
It is the meal I have been aching for since three days ago when I last saw her.
It is beautiful beyond belief.
She has brought sweet aromatic oil.
I adorn her skin with it.
She glistens. Her nipples rise.
I am choking in admiration of her beauty.
There is not any part of her I don't want to kiss, get my tongue into or devour in some way.
She writhes and as the excitement continues she slips her hand out off her cuff.
So that's what she meant by "Besides."
In my ever-present concern not to hurt her, I buckled her up with all the bondage competence of a teletubby.
CHARITY AND GREED
I love to give. I book ladies to give. It's why I must have cunnilingus on the menu. Her happiness in the room really matters to me.
For me, the worst service is not being allowed to service her.
Isabella will take all my humble gifts. She will consume them. Her charity turns to greed and I am her fuck toy.
She is unbuckled and free now and crawling all over me.
Sixty-nine. Her shins pin down my arms - and she is a strong little number! The spikes of her heels are next to my head.
Pinned down as such I cannot get to her pussy unless she lets me.
I almost weep with frustration. I want it. She'll move her arse back and give me some then take it away again.
She moves through a heap of positions. Fucking me this way, fucking me that way. Each one more exciting than the last.
I cannot hold back and I fear if I do try and hold it for too long I will loose it.
Even the visual splendour of her is more than I can take.
So it's "shoot the load" I'm afraid. Which is a little frustrating because we are only half way through the session.
So be it.
THE SEXIEST ORGAN IN THE BODY
An extremely beautiful naked woman who is only in her early twenties is sitting on the bed with me, smoking her cigarettes and talking to me.
I watch her eyes, I watch her legs, I watch her arms, I watch her breasts rise and fall as she smokes. Damn cigarettes killing her beautiful interior whilst giving her image, atmosphere, attitude all of which I am intoxicated by.
Bad girl!
She puts each foot in my lap. I remove her fucking-fucking-fucking- etcFUCK ME!!!! shoes and kiss the worlds most beautiful feet.
She takes a shoe off me, turns it over to show me the sole and tells me the history of it.
Did you know that some men will pay to be an ashtray?
"Fuck me dead! Well that ain't me!"
She laughs, blowing her smoke out. "I know that Princkly!"
She wants her choice of music in the session. I have this thing about no music in sessions but her choice is so tasteful I'll go with it.
Now she listens to mine - well for a little while.
We talk some more. It's so easy!
Sometimes I think I'm an idiot getting my rocks off listening to the sex life of a beautiful prostitute who is advanced and experienced well beyond her years.
Sometimes I think I am a sweet guy who she feels comfortable about opening up to.
Whatever:
A beautiful realisation sores through me, giving me a greater thrill than most of the physical stuff we have just been through.
She likes my mind.
And I like hers.
After stimulating every organ we can find on each other we go for the big one - the brain - the sexiest organ in the body.
Take away her restraining leather straps; her lingerie; her fuck-me shoes, her perfect body and I will probably still pay to come and see her again.
I just like her.
I'm starving for her!
Been thinking about her all weekend.
I'm in the supermarket, trying to get the weekly shopping done. But I can only think of her. I even think of her in combination with the food items I am selecting - (now there's a whole new range of erotic thoughts).
I'm looking at books in Borders and looking at nothing at all. The mental image that the text evokes in my minds eye is usurped by images of her, which dominate my imagination.
I'm in the Museum of Victoria on Sunday afternoon looking at the William Morris exhibition (cultured ain't I?) and admiring an armchair he designed in 1869. There is an accompanying picture showing the armchair situated in a sumptuous drawing room of the same period. I'm supposed to be admiring the design and fabric. But all I'm doing is imagining Isabella sitting naked in that chair. The picture shows this beautiful antique armchair in a room, in a mansion in Victorian England. I imagine Isabella and I alone in this opulently furnished room, with thick drapes and deep rich carpet. The fire is roaring. Outside it is snowing. She is sitting in the armchair; the soft afternoon amber light is spilling through the window and falling on her pale skin. She is naked except for a lace corset and shoes. I'm sitting in an armchair opposite her. She parts her legs for me. I gratefully kneel before her and dine on her beautiful cunt.
"Moving right along" says the guide
The crowd move on.
I slip away to a quite corner. Get Hallam Penthouse on my mobile and make a booking for Isabella for tomorrow morning.
The knowledge that I have done something practical to address this desperation is immensely relieving. I can at least concentrate again. I can now count down the hours till I will be with her again.
Thus, craving becomes excited anticipation.
TOUCH ME
For me, Hallam Penthouse is the most far-flung brothel in this city. There is no Melbourne parlour further from my home than this one. I don't normally call into this parlour unless I have business up that way. I have no business out here today. I'm just going for her.
I'm supposed to be there at eleven.
I'm there at ten forty. I must have subconsciously really hammered the old Merc in my enthusiasm to get there.
When she came to reception to meet me, it took all my willpower to stop myself from grabbing her and ravishing her right there on the carpet. She wears lingerie that make's me audibly groan with desire -- and boy, has she got the body for it.
She takes me to room ONE again. It seems to be our room.
"Before we do anything"..
"Yes?"
"I have to hold you. I cannot wait a another minute".
She lets me hold her. Her lingerie is nothing but bra and panties and those fucking- fucking-fucking-fucking-fucking-fucking-fucking-fucking-fucking-fucking-FUCK ME!!!!!!!! SHOES.
She must be feeling the roughness of my clothes against her tender skin. She doesn't seem to mind. I run my hand over her back. I contemplate asking if we can spend the next hour just doing this.
"I'll be back" she whispers.
She takes ages.
Probably punishing me for being too early, I think.
Finally returns.
"You came too early" she says. "I hadn't finished doing my nails".
Yep I was right, I think to myself.
I GIVE MYSELF TO YOU
She has leather-studded cuffs with links attached. The rattle of the strong silver buckles is exciting as she lays them on the bed between us.
Is she my toy, or am I hers?
I pick them up. She extends her arms. I buckle her wrists. She reclines on the bed. I use the links to attach her arms over her head on to the bed head.
I feel nothing but humbleness. But her vulnerability frightens me and I tell her so.
"Come here" she says.
I gently lay on top of her, supporting my own weight. I kiss her brow.
She wraps her leg around me. I feel the spike of her heel down the back of my leg.
"See I'm okay. You have no idea what I can do with these heels" she reassures me laughing. "Besides"
I don't ask her to finish her sentence.
I utterly gorge myself on her.
It is the meal I have been aching for since three days ago when I last saw her.
It is beautiful beyond belief.
She has brought sweet aromatic oil.
I adorn her skin with it.
She glistens. Her nipples rise.
I am choking in admiration of her beauty.
There is not any part of her I don't want to kiss, get my tongue into or devour in some way.
She writhes and as the excitement continues she slips her hand out off her cuff.
So that's what she meant by "Besides."
In my ever-present concern not to hurt her, I buckled her up with all the bondage competence of a teletubby.
CHARITY AND GREED
I love to give. I book ladies to give. It's why I must have cunnilingus on the menu. Her happiness in the room really matters to me.
For me, the worst service is not being allowed to service her.
Isabella will take all my humble gifts. She will consume them. Her charity turns to greed and I am her fuck toy.
She is unbuckled and free now and crawling all over me.
Sixty-nine. Her shins pin down my arms - and she is a strong little number! The spikes of her heels are next to my head.
Pinned down as such I cannot get to her pussy unless she lets me.
I almost weep with frustration. I want it. She'll move her arse back and give me some then take it away again.
She moves through a heap of positions. Fucking me this way, fucking me that way. Each one more exciting than the last.
I cannot hold back and I fear if I do try and hold it for too long I will loose it.
Even the visual splendour of her is more than I can take.
So it's "shoot the load" I'm afraid. Which is a little frustrating because we are only half way through the session.
So be it.
THE SEXIEST ORGAN IN THE BODY
An extremely beautiful naked woman who is only in her early twenties is sitting on the bed with me, smoking her cigarettes and talking to me.
I watch her eyes, I watch her legs, I watch her arms, I watch her breasts rise and fall as she smokes. Damn cigarettes killing her beautiful interior whilst giving her image, atmosphere, attitude all of which I am intoxicated by.
Bad girl!
She puts each foot in my lap. I remove her fucking-fucking-fucking- etcFUCK ME!!!! shoes and kiss the worlds most beautiful feet.
She takes a shoe off me, turns it over to show me the sole and tells me the history of it.
Did you know that some men will pay to be an ashtray?
"Fuck me dead! Well that ain't me!"
She laughs, blowing her smoke out. "I know that Princkly!"
She wants her choice of music in the session. I have this thing about no music in sessions but her choice is so tasteful I'll go with it.
Now she listens to mine - well for a little while.
We talk some more. It's so easy!
Sometimes I think I'm an idiot getting my rocks off listening to the sex life of a beautiful prostitute who is advanced and experienced well beyond her years.
Sometimes I think I am a sweet guy who she feels comfortable about opening up to.
Whatever:
A beautiful realisation sores through me, giving me a greater thrill than most of the physical stuff we have just been through.
She likes my mind.
And I like hers.
After stimulating every organ we can find on each other we go for the big one - the brain - the sexiest organ in the body.
Take away her restraining leather straps; her lingerie; her fuck-me shoes, her perfect body and I will probably still pay to come and see her again.
I just like her.
chazgasm:
i think its time i consider some world travel to um... see the sights