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  • Flashback: The tanned Milf


    I can't recall when we actually got on the bed, but we were still talking for a bit; until we touched one another, and were still talking until we lay down and started necking.


    The day started out like any other. Which is to say, normally. I woke up, brushed my teeth and washed my face, and made myself a coffe. Then I made breakfast, made small talk with my flatmates, and watched a bit of telly. Later I took a shower, and wondered what I would do for lunch.


    She was brunette; a German native who had settled in the country some time ago. I told her I liked her "mixed" accent; it was understandable and interesting. She replied that she liked mine, and asked where I was from. At this time I had just finished my shower, and we chatted while taking our turns in the bathroom. When she came out, she was dressed only in a pair of black thong panties.


    I was looking for work then, so I had time to kill. When I felt that I'd made enough work-application calls for the day, I looked into some other newspaper classifieds, and decided to call someone who was advertised there as part of a 'stable' of girls. I'd tried their services before, although that first time was not an especially memorable experience. After seeing the ad on this other lady, I wanted to give them another chance.


    She was petite, slim, tanned and athletic-looking; the black thong wasn't exactly a nice contrast on her, but she looked nice in it. We felt pretty relaxed in the apartment as we spoke to one another, and this created a nice atmosphere.


    I called them, and arranged - with the lady who handled the calls - a time to be at the apartment. And so I went. And I knocked on her door.


    We continued chatting. She told me about her ten-year-old kid who liked spending time on the beach, and the large island offshore that she took him to every summer. She also told me about how she only did this work occasionally, when she needed some extra income. (I can't recall if she said she did any other job.) It was a pretty interesting conversation, although we didn't get too much into her personal life.


    "Hello, how are you?"
    "I'm good, thanks. And you?"

    The pleasantries may seem mundane, but they were a part of everyday life here. And it was the normal way of greeting someone when meeting for the first time. It didn't make a difference even though it was a client-service provider transaction. It was probably more important, in such a relationship and setting, to establish an amicable, easy-going rapport.


    I don't remember how long we made out. I remember kissing her all over a lot, enjoying the feel of her tanned skin. Then, as we were lying down, her in my arms, I reached down and snuck my hand into her thong (she still had it on) and between her legs. In turn her hand went for my erect cock...


    I liked her right away. She was a pleasant-looking Milf (mother I love to f***) and her disposition seemed to be genuinely warm. We started chatting.


    ...and I stopped her.

    "No," I said. "Not yet."
    "I haven't decided...what I...want to do yet..."

    She laughed; a deep throaty laugh that I wasn't used to, but wasn't unpleasant.
    "Alright...we'll see."


    We got on so well, at least superficially, that at some level I nearly forgot about eventually having sex with her. As I stripped down and headed to the bathroom for my shower, we continued our conversation. Then she mentioned my accent.


    I pulled her on top of me - the second time I did so - and licked at her breasts and nipples (again). Then we turned over and I was on top, working my way down. Finally I could take it no longer, and pulled at her thong...


    Some say that certain people's voices are a turn-on. In this case it may have been the accents - hers and mine. I really wanted her then. At some point she knew what I wanted, when I wanted it. She took my hand, and led me to the bedroom.


    ...which came down her hips, past her knees, and off past her ankles. And I grabbed her bare hips and wedged myself between her legs. As gently as I could, I entered her, and pumped - once, twice, a third time, and continued...


    It was one of those ordinary days. But it was not every day I got to make love to a tanned, accomodating, pleasant Milf who spoke with a nice accent, and who had an interesting story to tell about herself. 'Working ladies' come from all walks of life, and you had to respect that. It was something that took me a few years to experience and understand after such encounters.

  • World's horniest countries

    94a2c419358e31a04e428114dd4146b9.jpgAskMen.com has a recent feature on the world's top ten "horniest countries."

    Starting at Mexico at number ten, the countdown to number one held both surprises and non-surprises for me.

    The surprises included Switzerland and Malaysia (sort of). The ones I expected included Mexico, China, Russia and Brazil.

    What were the criteria? Well, it seemed that the writer(s) used the Durex survey rankings as their guide - in fact, "in line" with it. Rankings depend on how often or how much the people in each country had sex. 56c86bea2ef8fde37aa3dba5317f9dac.jpg

    They've also helpfully included, for each country, a list of nightspots to hit for picking up men and women -- especially women, if some venues or areas indicated for sex workers and freelancers are any signs.

    What I find interesting is that countries like Thailand didn't make it to the top ten. I mean, obviously Thais and others there weren't having enough sex! This was surprising, given that the country is known for its beautiful women and vibrant...entertainment and nightlife.

    (Picture courtesy of Asian Sweetheart)


    And the no. 1 country? Well, go to the AskMen.com listing to find out. But here's a clue, clad in traditional garb:

    Okay, that's British glamour model Keeley Hazell in faux-classical world wear. But still, any excuse for a sexy picture.
  • All the sweet nothings

    Something I've decided to post about as a sort of catharsis...

    I've written here a lot about my positive experiences with sex and women, and posted a lot of sexy pictures. Most of the stories - okay, all of them - have actually been about p4p, or "pay for play" sex. It's not that I haven't had "regular" or "ordinary" sex. I have. And maybe one day I'll post about the positive experiences there.

    But today's not the day. Today I post bittersweet memories, snaphot-syle, about the negative ones. (And before anyone asks, no, these did not drive me to have p4p.) The one thing in common between all the stories is that we didn't have sex, but this isn't the cause of my less-than-sanguine musings.


    The sweet tease...

    ...was an old friend, but one I only met occasionally when I was living overseas, during my intermittent trips home. I thought there was something there when I was home for quite a while, one time. We hung out, watched movies, had coffee, dinners. My feelings for her grew, maybe even largely against my will - if that makes any sense.

    She was very sweet, the kind of combination girl-next-door and Asian-Japanese (although she wasn't Japanese) waif, with some other elements thrown in.

    (Not her. Obviously.)


    I guess I was thinking about other things at the time, and not paying attention to how she actually behaved around me. Nice, friendly, but not exactly warm. In fact, she was someone who turned out to be quite an ice queen who didn't call me up to hang out; it was almost always me who did the calling. Even so, there was a fair bit of flirting going on.  Or so I thought. Things dragged on.

    One night I kissed her on the lips as I said goodnight at her doorstop. She didn't kiss me back. From then on I knew better, and I never called or saw her again.


    Milf, overrated

    Getting involved with someone close to you is sometimes not a good idea. Getting involved with someone with whom you are a financial services client of -- that's a very bad idea. This is not one of those horror stories, but something milder.

    So I couldn't my "luck" that we clicked on a personal level, and before long were going on so-called dates and snogging like adolescents. She was - you guessed it - a Milf (Mother I'd love to f***). A divorced mum of one kid. I could accept that, even if others I know of, didn't.

    Thankfully the whole thing wasn't long-drawn out. For, when I left home to work overseas, this was the death knell of the so-called relationship. And the way she broke up with me? Classic. Not classy.

    Lesson learnt: never go out with your personal banker.


    Brown sugar, caramelised

    In my country, they are sometimes referred to as "brown sugar". It can be an insult, a derogatory term. It depends on the context, and who says it. It refers to a certain ethnicity, linked to their skin tone. But it was such a brown sugar I met when I was working overseas.

    An old aquaintance, we got in touch with one another under decidedly very non-romantic circumstances. She was visiting for a work project the city where I was based, and on the last day of her work there, we met up. She had planned a few extra days there for a holiday, so we would have some time together, if she wanted.

    We hit it off and caught up on things. I didn't know her well (and up till today, I still don't) but we connected immediately. We went for dinner, drinks, clubbing...then supper. We talked, in that late-night cafe, into the early morning hours.

    The second night. After another night of dinner and drinks, I felt the vibe so strongly between us that I told her bluntly, "I don't want to spend tonight alone."

    And she replied, "Okay." She never hesitated.

    We went back to her hotel room. She went into the bathroom and changed. She came out in a tank-top and a pair of black, sexy hip hugger panties. She told me, as started to make out on the bed, "I don't want to have sex."

    (Not her butt either, obviously)

    I said I understood. We'll do everything she wanted, but no sex. My head was spinning in a good way, and not from the alcohol. We had a nice night together, kissing and cuddling. She had to leave in the morning. I promised I would see her again, and soon, for I would be taking regular trips back home.

    But this was not to last.

    As with ordinary sugar, volatile chemicals are released when brown sugar is caramelised. These fickle, temporay feelings show just that -- their true nature.

    She gave excuses. Among them: "My parents are very strict; they want me to go out with and marry someone who's [of a particular religion]." Perhaps they were real reasons, but who knows. I realised at that point that I never got to know her well enough; there wasn't enough time. And this was even after I went back home a couple of times after her trip to my then-adopted city. On my second visit home, she only had the time to see me once. Or so she said.

    And that was to break up with me, with the said excuses mentioned above.