Escort Diaries: Her First BDSM Session

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Ms. D initially contacted me because of her curiosity about the world of kink and BDSM. Like many women the world over, her understanding of BDSM was largely shaped by the hugely popular and now infamous ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’.

Ms. D had hired me on two previous occasions but was now looking to take things further. With trust being a key element in BDSM, I’m always reluctant to engage in anything too intense with a client until we have spent some time getting to know each other.

Ms. D is a professional woman in her late 40’s with no children. She comes from a tough corporate background surrounded by men in grey suits. She deals with the usual testosterone fuelled egocentric characters that often exist in this environment. Ms. D had a tough exterior that soon melted away once our mental chess began and she realised I was wired a little differently to most.

Ms. D was accustomed to getting what she wanted, especially from people who were paid to be ‘nice’ to her. ‘Nice’ is when someone invites you out for a drink, or offers you their seat on a train, or pays you a kind compliment – she can get ‘nice’ for free. But that’s not why she pays me; she pays me to make her feel amazingly special, which requires a lot more than kind gestures and compliments. It’s about leaning how to push her buttons in a way that excites her and allows her to let go whilst she’s with me.

Putting a BDSM script together for a client is always a turn. No two people are the same so everything has to be tailored to that specific client and focused on what they want to gain from our time together. During our last encounter as we lay in bed, we spoke in detail about what she liked and how she wanted to feel. We spoke about the toys that really turned her on and how she wanted to be handled. We also spoke about her boundaries, safe words and any concerns that she may have had. All the while I’m building up a mental picture of how our session would play out.

Sitting at my desk in the early hours of the morning I was able to create an experience for Ms. D that I knew she would love. BDSM aside and the fact that I’m a paid escort, I think this is something that we should all do at some stage. It’s a beautiful thing to be able to create an experience of pure pleasure for someone based on what you know will drive them crazy. With the script pretty much complete I could hear the birds chirping so I decided to shoot off to my 24 hour gym for a sneaky workout while I was still wide awake.

Fast-forward to the day when Ms. D and I were due to meet up, everything was prepared. A fresh black suit, immaculate black shirt with starched creases in all the right places and a lovely pair of black John Lobb Oxford shoes. I also packed my bag of toys complete with oils, cuffs, dildos, a handmade leather flogger and some other goodies. Lastly I selected just the right fragrance for the occasion ‘Black Orchid by Tom Ford’ as it oozed dark mischievous sexuality.

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All set, I hopped in my car and made my way to Ms. D’s home which was located in a lovely remote part of Cheshire. When I arrived the large antique wooden door was already unlocked and she had told me to come in and make myself comfortable.

As I gently pushed the door open I could hear her voice travelling from one room to the next which meant that she was on the phone probably dealing with some work related issue. As I sat down and waited for her in the reception I saw an envelope with my name on it on the side table. I flicked it open, fingered the cash and slipped it in my pocket.

She was soon off the phone with her arms wrapped around me and playfully smothering me with warm kisses. It’s very sexy how she could switch between work mode and personal time so effortlessly. She was clearly looking forward to our play session. After her delightful barrage of kisses I pulled back slightly, looking her directly in the eyes and told her to behave herself, which only provoked her more. Ms. D was use to getting what she wanted but she knew that I loved to tease so she turned on her heels in quiet protest and invited me to join her in the kitchen.

Ms. D was tall, about 5’9 and I’m guessing a size 12 although I never asked. She had very good posture, with long shiny brown hair that was always tied back in a high ponytail. She had light brown eyes, sharp features and pale skin.

As this was her first BDSM experience there were still some rules that needed to be clarified. There was ‘no alcohol’ permitted before or during our session as we both needed to be fully aware. We also covered a few important topics again like her boundaries, safe words and any general concerns.

Putting all the excitement aside, making Ms. D feel safe and comfortable was my main priority because without her mind being in the right place, it wouldn’t matter what I had planned as she wouldn’t be able to enjoy. Sex is mental so that’s where I started and with that, Ms. D and I were ready to begin our first session together.

Ms. D’s room was perfectly suited; I don’t mean it looked like a dungeon with red and black leather lining the walls. I mean it was spacious but imitate with lovely dark fur rugs, thick blankets, oversized cushions and a large bed in the center of the room. There was original artwork on the walls and long hanging curtains that threw the room in to pitch darkness. Ms. D turned on a large lamp in the corner that created a warm glow and then hopped in the shower whilst I prepared her evening’s events. When she was finished in the shower she agreed to come out and present herself to me awaiting further instructions.

I laid out my toys, handcuffs, restraints, bondage ropes, a blindfold, my flogger, a paddle and some strawberry scented oil. As this was our first session together I wanted to ease Ms. D in at her own pace so she always felt a degree of control. She came out of the shower in an oversized bathrobe, seeming nervous and somewhat out of her comfort zone. I’d never seen Ms. D like this before. I walked over and slid my arms around her waist inside her robe and pulled her close. I asked if she still wanted to go ahead to which she responded with a cheeky smile and a nod, I removed her robe and we began.

I presented Ms. D with a thick leather collar that I placed in her hand as she stood in front of me naked. In BDSM the collar is much more than a kinky accessory, it signifies submission on her part, and me taking responsibility for her whilst she allows me to Dominate. This collar represented a mutual agreement between the two of us based upon a set of defined rules as laid out below:


During session you are to address me as ‘Sir’.

You will do as you are told as all times.

If at any stage you disobey me you will be punished.

If you orgasm without my permission you will be punished.

If you need to use the ladies you will ask for permission.

If you need time out, or some water or anything else, you will ask me.

Your safe words are ‘YELLOW’ if you want me to slow down and ‘RED’ if you want to stop. You can use them anytime you feel the need and I will stop immediately

I will only push you as far as you’ll allow me based on what we have discussed previously.


Once I put this collar on you, your body and mind will belong to me for the duration of our session. Do you understand? I asked her. ‘Yes’ she replied.

I stepped in to her space with my arms folded behind my back and in a firm voice I repeated the question, only this time she replied with ‘Yes SIR’. ‘Good girl’ I told her and with that I placed my hands on her hips and turned her around slowly to fasten the collar around her neck. The last thing I did before we began was whisper in her ear that I was there to please her. Ms. D stood there in submission with her naked figure fully exposed with the innocence of a woman far removed from her everyday life. And with that I grabbed her around the throat and pushed her up against the wall. She inhaled deeply in shock as I stepped back admiring her body. I picked up my flogger and swung it over my shoulder as I moved towards her with my hand running down her side. I moved up and down her body inhaling and exhaling as goose bumps started to appear on her skin. I ask her how she was feeling to which she responded ‘I’m fine Sir’. I stroked her face and told her to turn around and face the wall.

Ms. D had always wanted to be tied up and dominated; this was one of her fantasies. I took my bondage rope and tied her hands firmly behind her back. I grabbed her long hair and gave it a good tug, she moaned as her head snapped back. I bit the side of her neck and pulled her over to the beautiful leather upholstered bench at the foot of her bed. I forced her on to her knees and pushed her face in to the leather. I could feel her trying to resist in an act of defiance which given her character was no surprise. I explained to Ms. D in no uncertain terms that her behavior was unacceptable and with that I pulled my flogger from over my shoulder and started spanking her bottom. Ms. D gritted her teeth and invited me to flog her harder. She was definitely no shrinking violet. I knew she wouldn’t just roll over and comply. In order for me to be allowed do dominate her, I would need to prove that I was deserving of her submission – women submit to men, not boys.

Ms. D raised her head and stared at me with squinted eyes and perched lips, which was her way of testing me. I placed my hand on her head open palm and pushed it back down and flogged her harder. We repeated this process enough times for Ms. D’s arse to turn red and she was now winching from the sting of the flogger. I stopped and asked her if she wanted to continue resisting to which she replied “No Sir”. This signaled that she was now ready and willing to submit as I had proven to her that I would administer punishment consistently if required.

With the script memorised in my head and broken down in to three main scenes I proceeded to take her on a journey with me. I cuffed Ms. D’s ankle to each corner of the large leather bench, which spread her legs apart exposing her vagina. I stood up pacing the room slowly behind her with my flogger gently stroking the skin occasionally whipping it against hand so she could hear the sting. The flogger is more than just an instrument of pain and discipline. It can also be used for gentle and sensual pleasure. Ms. D indicated her preference at any one time by her compliance or lack there of. This particular flogger is unique because it was handmade by myself using the best soft Italian leather and was balanced perfectly to administer pleasure or pain depending on the situation.

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I started to massage her back with deep sensual strokes helping to circulate the blood around her body. I explored her with my hands paying close attention to her every response. I slid my finger down the crease of her backside and over her wet vagina to which she responded with an inhalation of pleasure. She sounded beautiful, but tasted better as I licked her juices off my finger and then inserted it in to her mouth, which she licked fiendishly. I stopped for a moment to appreciate her in this state. My job as an escort was to make her feel special and she was obviously enjoying it but I always found it flattering that a woman would literally gift her body and mind over to me to play with like a beautiful instrument. With that in mind I suddenly bent down behind Ms. D and pushed my tongue deep in to her vagina, rubbing past her clit. She moaned and rolled her head back as I pulled out. ‘There’s a good girl’ I whispered as I gently ran my fingers through her hair. I intended to push every one of her buttons and leave her senses tingling.

I teased Ms. D with my tongue for long enough to bring her to a state of hot steaming orgasm. Just as she was about to release I stopped, grab her face and reminded her that she was not allowed cum until I permitted it. This drove Ms. D crazy to the point of frustration. She let out a stream of expletives expressing exactly how she felt towards me at that time. Given her strong character I knew that most of her partners in the past would have given in at this stage but it didn’t work like that with me as we were in session and these were the rules.

For her sins I pulled out my flogger and began to spank her as I politely requested an apology for her rudeness. Ms. D was reluctant but the sting of the flogger soon loosened her tongue.

It was now time for a new act and with that I released her arms and legs, attached a lead to her collar and slowly walked her over to the bed. I grabbed her hair and threw her down as the bed recoiled from the force. With Ms. D on her back I secured her arms and legs to the bedposts with her vagina in full view, waiting for my attention. Before I went any further I leaned in between her legs and gave her a soft sensual kiss. I felt to enter her right there and then but resisted as I had other plans.

I pulled out a magic wand vibrator, which is probably one of the best devices I’ve ever come across. With Ms. D tied up and lying on her back I rubbed the large vibrating head slowly up and down her thighs and across her vagina. Ms. D tensed up and rolled her hips in response. She was breathing short and fast so I instructed her to slow down and inhale deeply whilst focusing on my touch. I alternated between the sensation of the vibrator and the feeling of my tongue as I gently licked her outer labia. This drove her crazy as she wriggled and fought against the straps that were restraining her. After some time of dialing up the tension I placed the head of the vibrator directly on her clit and watched her body contort as if possessed. With deep inhalations and moans of ecstasy I knew it wouldn’t be long before she was close to orgasm again.

This for me is the moment where communication and connection is so important. I removed the vibrator momentarily to get her to focus on my voice. I instructed her to let me know on a scale of 1 to 5 how close she was to orgasm. Still not fully coherent she agreed by nodding her head frantically. Her pussy was swollen and red from the pressure of the vibrator so I slowly licked her clit and massaged the sides of her vagina to prepare her for what was yet to come.

As she was now focused again I began building her orgasm slowly by bringing her back and forth, trying to keep her in a state of intense arousal. There came a point when Ms. D was clearly overwhelmed by what was going on. She begged me to let her cum – I told her ‘don’t you fucking dare’. I kept on pushing her and eventually she gave in to the sensation and released her orgasm. It sounded was like music to my ears – she let out a deep sensual moan of pleasure as she kicked and fought against the restraint straps still holding her firmly in place. The bed was shaking, she was covered in sweat and I could sense the energy coursing through her body as she reveled in the moment.

By this time Ms. D was due a well-deserved break so I untied her, placed a cover over her legs to keep her warm and poured her a glass of water. Ms. D was silent and she wasn’t moving much at all. I knew exactly what was going on, she was tuning in to her body and enjoying a different kind of sensations that she wasn’t used to. We lay in bed next to each other while I stroked her hair. I nestled my head in her neck and nibbled her ear repeatedly teasing her back to reality. She giggled and curled up to get away as I ticked her. As she sat up and sipped her water she turned to me and said, “You’re very bad you are – very,” like a well spoken head mistress telling off a naughty schoolboy. I winked and smiled at her with a troublesome smirk as I thought about the events I still had in store for her.

Now for scene two I had included a little role-play. I told her to stand in the middle of the room naked and wait for further instructions. I made her put on a pair of black high heel stilettos and wait for me while I took my time admiring her as she fidgeted in anticipation. Ms. D, already being 5’9 struck an awesome figure in heels and we were now eye to eye. “Get on your knees now” I commanded and she obeyed without hesitation. I stroked the side of her face, grabbed her by the throat and bent down to kiss her. I told her to take out my penis and lick the head. She done as she was told and looked up at me for approval as she licked and slurped with her hands firmly gripping the shaft.

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(Not actual image)

I was so turned on I could have let her take me all the way but I had other plans. Snapping back in to character, I slapped her in the face and told her to slow down. I pulled out and teased her with the tip by placing it on her tongue and rubbing it over her lips. She leaned forward trying to get her mouth around it but I pulled away again. “No Ms. D, you’re a very naughty women aren’t you, I’m going to punish you”, she replied with “Yes Sir, I’m sorry”. I picked her up with force, bent her over and placed her hands on the bench with her legs spread far apart. I picked up a paddle and began to spank her bottom. She moaned and gyrated from the repeated blows of the paddle. ‘Harder” she said so I stepped it up a little more. Her arse was turning red and she started to winch but she was enjoying the stinging sensation. I teased by reminding her about the safe words and asked if she wanted to use them. “Fuck you Sir’ she said as she giggled and turned away knowing that swift punishment would be meted out.

I smiled and I told her to keep facing the front while I rummaged through my bag of toys and produced a black 9-inch rubber dildo complete with bulging veins and a circumcised head. With Ms. D still lent over, I knelt down, licked her juices and inserted 3 fingers in to her vagina. She inhaled as she leaned back causing all 4 of my fingers to slide in. I finger fucked her briefly to moisten her up and without warning I inserted the black 9-inch dildo half way in to her pussy. She yelped and took a deep breath as she tried to compose herself. I guided the dildo in and out going slightly deeper with each thrust. Ms. D let out an exasperated quiver as she slapped her hand on the leather bench in an attempt to control the overwhelming sensation. “Fuck who” I asked her. “You Sir, fuck you” she replied with another moan. I like her spirit;) so naturally I inserted the dildo even further until she had taken the whole 9-inches. By now she was making enough noise to wake anyone within a 5-mile radius, but the sexual deviant in me encouraged her to let go and so she did.

I grabbed my flogger and started spanking her arse with the dildo still buried deep inside her. I asked her to repeat what she’d told me previously, “Fuck you Sir” she blurted out again. Clearly she wanted more so I gave it to her. After full lashes from the flogger she soon screamed ‘Yellow Sir, yellow’. This time I threw the flogger on the bed and grabbed the magic wand again. With the 9-inch dildo thrusting back and forth I placed the magic wand directly on her clit. What a fucking response – she was totally in the moment with her legs shaking and her head snapping back and forth like Beyoncé on stage.

I massaged her clit with the wand and before I could even gauge how close she was to orgasm she began to cum. I wanted to prolong the experience as much as possible so I adjusted the intensity and got her to focus on channeling the sensation to different parts of her body. This very loud and uncontrolled orgasm lasted well over a minute and by the time she had climaxed the carpet was wet and sweat was running down her thighs. With her body shaking, she gently collapsed to her knees with her arms spread wide, face down on the bench. She was thrilled and exhausted in equal measure and very much in need of another break.

Ms. D had a number of emotions flowing through her body at that stage. She was realising that there was so much more to her sexuality than she had previously experienced. Putting BDSM aside, what we we’re doing was exploring her sexuality and allowing her to express it in what ever way she felt comfortable. Throwing BDSM in to the mix allowed her to play out her fantasies with a shift of power and control like ‘orgasm denial’ and ‘reward and punishment’. Ms. D quickly learnt how to manipulate the situation in order to get what she wanted from me.

I helped her to her feet; she was so exhausted all she could do was wrap her arms around my waist as I carried her over to the bed. I lay her down on her stomach and poured some of the scented oil in to my hands. I then straddled her body and started massaging her back from the neck down. She seemed to melt as she exhaled the sexual tension that had been building up inside her. I wanted her to relax and let her mind drift.

After some time she floated back to me and we spoke for a while about how she was feeling and the sensations running through her mind. I didn’t say much as I was trying to take it all in. This level of openness is rare because it’s not often nurtured so I always enjoy moments like this.

Now it was time for the final part of our play session and I wanted take Ms. D to a more sensual place. As I lay between her legs with my head rested on her thigh I gently teased her clit by swirling my tongue around as she began to moisten up. I grabbed her hand and placed it on the back of my head gesturing for her to guide my tongue where she wanted it.

Soon Ms. D wanted to fuck, she wanted me deep inside her and she wanted it now. She grabbed my head, clamped her legs around me and maneuvered in to position. As I sunk in to her warm, pulsating pussy I watched for her every response as I tuned in. I slowly explored her world feeling for her most sensitive areas and teasing them with a variation of strokes. After some time I broke free of her legs still wrapped around me and rested them on either side of my shoulders. Now I was really in a position for deep penetration as I massage the walls of her vagina. With my hands holding her firmly around the waist and my knees tucked slightly under her backside, I angled for her g-spot and sunk deep enough to feel her cervix. She yelped and pulled me in deeper, she wanted more so I gave it to her again – and again and again.

I continued exploring her with deep controlled thrusts and then shallow, slow circular motions and then long pauses when I hit a sweet spot, teasing her until she started to thrust back at me. I peeled her legs back and fucked her deep and hard as she screamed. I could feel her pussy tense up so I asked how close she was, “3” she replied as she grabbed the pillow to muffle her screams. By the time she reached 4 my own orgasm was imminent. Flooded with Oxytocin and all the other chemicals running through our brains we fucked like bunnies with Ms. D giving as good as she got through gritted teeth and expletives.

As soon as I heard her cum I let go and released what was now a seriously fucking intense orgasm. I snarled like an animal with my hand wrapped around her neck. After the climax we just stared at each other, sweating and panting; no words needed.

I lay her legs down slowly and gently massaged her hips and thighs, running my hands down her legs to channel the energy to the tips of her feet. For a moment she lay completely still with her eyes closed. After a short while she looked at me, giggled and pulled me up along side her. She exhaled a long “Arhhhhhhhhhhh” like she was releasing years of frustration and at the same time playfully cursing me for being such a tease. After having shared such an intense experience together it was nice to be able to drift off and talk freely about sexuality, life and anything else we fancied.

That night I left Ms. D sleeping comfortably curled up in bed under her warm duvet. I gave her a kiss on the cheek and closed her bedroom door quietly behind me. I arrived home just after 3 in the morning; way too tired to hop in the shower I collapsed on my bed and slept until 11:30am. When I awoke a quick glance at my phone displayed a message from Ms. D that read, “Thank you Sir, I look forward to being punished again. Ps. Fuck you.” (Wink emoji and a bunch of kisses.)

I smiled as I imagined her back in the office among the grey suits, occasionally floating between work mode and the warm memories that lingered in her thoughts from the night before.


Privacy Note: Names and locations have been changed to protect client confidentiality.
Safe Sex Note: I always practice safe sex and never participate in penetrative intercourse without protection. I also receive regular check ups as do all responsible sex workers.
-Always practice safe sex.

Why Women Pay For Sex When They Can Get It For Free?

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Forgive me for the misleading title but the operative word here is ‘it’, and the title raises an interesting question on the whole. Why do women pay for sex when they are literally tripping over it from the moment they open their front door. Well women don’t want ‘it’, they want something ‘else’. And that something else is not what most men think it is. If a woman manages to stumble upon a really considerate partner who takes genuine pleasure in learning how to please her in the most intimate of ways, she’s lucky!

Unfortunately most of us (men) haven’t really cottoned on to this. We think fucking like a porn star is the pinnacle of sexual mastery. We think that bending her over and giving it to her hard and fast while she loses her mind in a reality bending mind fuck of an orgasm is conclusive proof that we’ve achieved a god like status in the bedroom.

And sometimes this is exactly what she wants, hot steamy role play with wild sex during her lunch break. But still, this is purely content. What’s important here is the context, and by this I mean the ‘how’ and the ‘why’. Any escort worth his silk boxers should be well versed in understanding the dynamics of how to blow a women’s mind and why the subtlest of interactions can fill her with the most erotic desires.

I think I would be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge that many escorts never think to explore this concept despite the advantage it provides in distinguishing us in a sea of dick pics and bad selfies you often find on escorting sites.

I digress, women “pay for sex” because they’ve realised that in order to get what they want, when they want it, how they want it and without the hassle or bullshit, paying a ‘professional’ is a very valid option.

A good escort will spend time actively working on improving their skills in order to provide the best service possible. Most of this comes down to a willingness to please and an aptitude for self-improvement. When all is said and done, as escorts, we sell our time and our bodies for financial reward. We commoditise our skills and package them according to our target audience. If you genuinely enjoy pleasing a woman you’re going to strive to give her the best experience you can.

With an open mind, dedication to improving one self in all areas and generally having our shit together, we’re able to push a women’s buttons in a way that most men are oblivious to. Understanding attraction and the complex mating dance that takes place every day is a key component in unlocking this primal form of communication.

Much smarter individuals than myself have figured out that attraction isn’t a choice; it’s a reaction. This makes sense to me, so learning how to trigger and nurture it to the point of uncontrollable desire is a natural stage of progression.

Financial reward alone is not enough to fuel this desire for me personally as I started on this journey long before escorting. Many years ago I pondered the question as to the nature of my desire to please in a piece I wrote called ‘The Perfect Evening’. By the end of this piece I had unearthed a clue that would take me many years to comprehend (which is not to say that my understanding is anywhere near complete) but I realised that I’m drawn to a woman’s raw sexual energy. (Which does make me wonder why we still chastise women for being sexually free – See ‘Slut Theory’ for further musings on this topic.)

Real sexual communication is the forgotten tongue concealed by societal taboos and religious claptrap. For that brief moment in time when we orgasm we get to taste the forbidden apple that apparently cast us out in to the dark. It’s ironic that women pay me for something that should be abundant and plentiful – they don’t pay for ‘sex’, they pay for an ‘experience’.

Embracing The Intangible

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Play Me: Christian Löffler – Veiled Grey

We all live in the physical realm where we believe in what we can see with our eyes and touch with our hands. But as soon as we scratch beneath the surface our other senses allow us to glimpse the beauty of the intangible. Even in today’s world where we have evolved to rely less and less on our senses, we still have an innate ability to be captivated by the sound of music or the intoxicatingly indulgent realm of scent.

As I journey through life I become increasingly aware of the realms that co exist along side the physical but are often muted by our reliance on what we see with our eyes. “Seeing is believing” is a mindset that it based on pragmatism and logic but what was true today can be false tomorrow so I embrace the discomfort of uncertainty in pursuit of conscious evolution.

In my line of work as a male escort I meet people from all walks of life and the one thing that I have learnt is that as special as we think we are, and as complex as our minds may be, that invisible person passing me in the street is just as wrapped up in their head as I am in mine.

When I meet a female client for the first time, our worlds collide with an over flow of mixed emotions and desires, excitement and fear. My aim is to understand her emotions and provide peace of mind in an environment where she is free to embrace the realms that co-exist beyond the physical.

A lustful exploration of senses that once lay dormant are now alive and racing. When open minds embrace masculine and feminine counterpoints, uncontrollable attraction and desire enables us to tune in to the intangible.

We all posses the ability to travel to places yet to be explored in a world that attempts to stigmatise those who chose to live beyond the expectations of an Orwellian state of mind.

They once believed the world was flat, and as ridiculous as this may seem, in years to come they will be laughing at us too for the perceived logic we currently hold dear. A wise person knows that they know nothing.

Friendville

Most of us have been there at some stage although I doubt anyone ever really intended to visit. You kind of wind up there through pretentious ‘gay best friend’ like behavior that’s disingenuous and counter productive. What I mean by this is that because of a fear of rejection we position ourselves as a ‘friend’ providing comfort, a shoulder to cry on, or a shopping buddy, all the while waiting to pounce like a hungry Hyena in a their moment of weakness. But it’s too late, you’ve already set the frame and you’ve taken a one-way trip to Friendville with tumbleweeds included.

Now of course I’m not saying that there’s anything wrong with being a genuine friend but if you eat grass and moo like a Cow don’t be surprised when you get treated like one. The key to avoiding Friendville are two concepts that many of us seem to struggle with; ‘authenticity’ and ‘acceptance’. Authenticity is simply being real about your intentions. If you want to fuck her say so in which ever way works for you. At least she knows what you want from the get go.

That’s easy enough but ‘acceptance’ seems to be the hot potato that most of us find difficult to handle. Queue the gay best friend’ routine which is designed to mask your sexual intentions and present you as an almost asexual individual who wants nothing more than to cuddle up on the couch, watch movies and engage in girl talk.

There will of course be some who mange to slip through the net during her moment of weakness but you’ll probably be branded as an opportunistic Hyena rather than a snarling Lion that’s about to rip her clothes off and perform all kinds of acts that would shame the devil.

If she does end up spreading her legs to a Hyena she’ll more than likely get buyers remorse and be weirded out by the whole experience. She’ll also probably start to distance herself because you can’t be trusted to be the gay best friend and you certainly won’t be considered a Lion. This isn’t to say that friends don’t often end up in relationships but when it’s a calculated Machiavellian type plot to get in her knickers this is different ball game entirely.

Moral of the story; be direct, honest and up front …and if the object of your desire doesn’t reciprocate, accept it and move on. Lions pick and choose, Hyenas get the left overs, be a Lion.

The cords of Orgasm

Being the inquisitive soul that I am, I’m genuinely fascinated by the way a woman reaches her orgasm. I’m not talking about the standard early morning romp when she climaxes, rolls out of bed and hops in the shower to get ready for work. I’m talking about the teeth grinding, face slapping, pussy clenching, body quivering orgasm that causes her to wail like a banshee.

Sex for me is like a really good fragrance, so if a quickie is the Eau De Toilette then an intense and passionate encounter is more like the Eau de parfum, a Tom Ford Tabaco Vanille perhaps. And like any good fragrance a quality orgasm has 3 ‘cords’ – The ‘Head cord’ which gives you the initial hit, the ‘Heart cord’ which comes through after half an hour or so and the ‘Base cord’ which subtly captivates you days after when you catch a whiff as you open the closet door. These fragrances are skillfully mixed together by a keen nose and layered on top of each other to create that harmonious scented orgasm with the richness that will ring out for days.

Let’s unpack this a little further…the ‘Head cord’ for me is foreplay, this is when I start to push her buttons and tune in to her frequency. This is a sensory exploration from head to toe – sniffing, licking, biting, scratching, slapping and teasing the life out of every curve and every bump until she’s flush with sexual frustration. Her thigh twitches as she feels the sudden coldness of my tongue flick, the stomach tenses as I breath deeply around her mid section, the eyes squint as I come in growling like a dog hovering around the side of her neck about to sink my teeth in – hard. Any moment she could find my hands wrapped around her neck like a hangman’s noose or my tongue between her legs swirling around her clit while she juices up in anticipation of the cords yet to come.

Amidst the aroma of extreme sexual tension the ‘Heart cord’ starts to ring out. The strength of which dominates all her senses as she inhales deeply when I enter her universe. She needs time to recalibrate, the ‘Heart cord’ is deep and strong, full bodied and intense so she prepares her mind to embrace. Every stroke is timed and considered as I watch closely for the involuntary reactions that guide me towards her orgasm. A certain angle that strokes her clit, or the position of my hands around her waist sinking in deep above her hipbones.

Her pussy starts to clench up and I know she won’t be able to control it for much longer; this is when I bring her back. She let’s me know how close she is to climax on a scale of 1 to 10 so my aim is to keep her in a perpetual state of ‘imminent orgasm’. I bring her back and forth whilst relishing the beautiful sound that signifies she’s about to erupt uncontrollably. At this point it’s like fanning the flames and enjoying the warmth, as it grows in to something wild and untamed.

Finally I give her permission to cum and without hesitation the flames erupt as if doused with gasoline. She’s kicking and slapping and thrashing around as I calm her by stroking her body. I channel the energy of her orgasm by massaging her body outwards from her center and she regains her composure. Have you every seen anything else like it? Who made this creature?

Now the beauty of the ‘Base cord’ is that it lives on long after the other cords have faded. But unlike the fleeting realm of sent the mind holds on to memories and feelings for much longer. The mind has a way of unapologetically interrupting the mundane routine of everyday life and whisking you away with memories of past encounters. These memories are intense and vivid, full of colour and raw emotion masked by the need to compose oneself for fear of judgment.

Imagine if we could all embrace what’s buried deep inside openly and freely like our ancestors did many moons ago, what a fucking trip that would be.

The Art of Failure

The older I get the more I learn to embrace what we call ‘failure’. To have the freedom and courage to push beyond my boundaries and find comfort in the uncomfortable is what helps to develop my strength of character in an ever increasingly hostile world.

I’ve failed many times in life both in business and in relationships and this has liberated me from the fear of failure because the imagination is almost always worse than the reality. Many of us live our lives governed by made up rules and regulations that keep us stunned by fear as we’re ushered along the conveyor belt of life about to be ground to death like livestock. The fear of losing our jobs, our homes, our money, our partners and anything else that we are enslaved to is what really owns us. The magnificent human spirit in all its glory has been reduced to a dull shade of melon collie monotony fighting for the scraps excreted out of the arse hole of life.

The formular is simple; we fail, we learn and then we fail less until we eventually succeed enough to manage failure more efficiently. The day I stop failing is the day I truly fail because in my experience true growth and self-awareness doesn’t come from success. When I’m winning I’m too busy having a great fucking time to sit and reflect and ponder on how great shit is, I’m just having fun doing what the fuck I please which has always been my preference.

Some of my most valuable lessons in life have been my biggest failures and I’m so grateful. I’m grateful that I lost a shit load of money on various business ventures that I embarked on over the years, I’m grateful that I’ve had my heart broken by someone who I loved dearly and I’m grateful for every little bump along the road that has helped to mould me in to the man I am today. Most of all I’m grateful that I am fully aware that life probably has many more painful and fucked up curve balls to throw at me because this is when I rock up to bat with fire in my belly, and this is when I find my greatest success.

Success is not measured by what I have in the bank; it’s measured by the extent to which I am content with life. This is not to say that I don’t intend to be filthy rich and insanely happy, what this means is that whether I ‘fail’ or ‘succeed’ I will never be too afraid to try because failure is the birth place of greatness.

Now this may sound corny or even plagiarised from some dusty old self-help book but it’s my experience and my reality and I’m not here to change minds. I’m hear to air my thoughts so I can better understand my mental universe and if you’re able to gain some value from that, then all the better for it.

The ‘Logic’ of Attraction

I’m sure at some stage we’ve all asked the question of a potential suitor – “so what do you look for in a guy/girl”. The more I think about it the more this seems like a pointless question. The answer is usually a generic response of niceties like someone who’s fun, caring, affectionate, loyal, honest, blah, blah, blah. We’d all agree that these are traits that we’d probably want in a partner but trying to provide a logical answer based on a list of adjectives for something as seemingly illogical as attraction is rudimentary at best.

Like most things related to human relationships and the mating dance I’m sure the subtle hand of evolution has hard wired us to respond to certain signals without us really stopping to ponder why. Why do girls like buff guys with big muscles? Why do guys like big-breasted women with curves and long legs? Why do we want people who we can’t have?…and why is power often considered the ultimate aphrodisiac?

Despite all our sophisticated posturing and logical thought processes deep down we all know there’s something raw and primal inside that we can’t control. And when that mate comes along and pushes those buttons the evolutionary cogs of attraction start turning all on their own and before you know it you’re already thinking about fucking them over the dinner table before you’ve even finished your starters.

Now if you could write down the ingredients of this recipe and bottle it you could sell it for millions all day long because this is actually what we’re looking for. Of course there are other thing to consider like the adjectives mentioned earlier but they are more like the basic ingredients to a cake – flour, sugar, butter, eggs, etc. but it’s the fire that creates the magic. So a list of adjectives will never be able to describe what’s really going on here.

What I do know is that attraction is not a choice; it’s an emotional response to certain character traits and behaviours that we deem as desirable both conscious and subconscious. How we choose to act upon these emotions is the choice. During the initial stages of attraction the brain is still in the race. In most cases it can still apply the breaks if need be but there comes a point when emotions will completely dominate our decision making process or lack there of. We don’t need to understand it from a scientific point of view like the men in white coats with thick moustaches but I think it’s useful to be able to objectify these emotions when the madness kicks in.

I find being conscious of this mating dance allows me to enjoy it more freely without the apprehensions of embracing that warm feeling in my gut. To be frank, I’d say this may be more applicable to women than men as they typically stand to lose a lot more in this equation as they are ultimately the one’s left holding the baby if things go south. So from a female perspective I suspect they have a lot more to consider than just the fear of rejection and bruised emotions when they decide to spread their legs.

I’ve come to the conclusion that you either have what they are looking for or you don’t so asking the question or even trying to answer it is counter intuitive. With that being said the subtle clues are there if you learn how to read them and as I have a keen interest in the beauty of this mating dance I try to pay close attention. Life is a lesson. Attraction is a bitch!