Having posted a knowledgeable and experienced Las Vegas casino hooker's ideas on what the average woman feels about sex (How it felt for a woman, 14 January, 2008), here are the thoughts of a male—a male knowledgeable, experienced. And a heavy consumer of sex.
S speaks to men--and puts, or tries to put, himself in the female mind:
Men with little sexual experience often have a hard time (imagining this)...Imagine yourself at a time when you were a young man without an appropriate outlet. You certainly were susceptible to sexual stimulation.
Now imagine that at that stage of you life, you were approached by a toothless grandmother of 60 plus, who tried to get you into bed with her.
You decline? Why? Because the whole thing just isn't right, and you are not aroused.
Now, to the best of my knowledge, that's about how women feel most of the time when they are approached by a man. It's not that they wouldn't be sexually excitable. It's just that they are not excitable as randomly as men.
S also says that the secret to abundant sex in a man's life is location, location, location. And location. You can find S at asiatours.com.
Monday
How it felt for a woman
A Las Vegas hooker catering to the casino's high rollers was telling him about what women felt about sex. Apparently she liked and trusted him enough to share this.
Sexually speaking, P told him, a woman generally and permanently felt like a man who has just had an orgasm. Near as P could make out, okay? With all her experience and knowledge, that was pretty close to what a woman felt. And she was pretty knowledgeable, and experienced, wouldn't he agree?
So, as a man who had just had an orgasm, did he feel like sex any time soon? No, she wanted the truth, okay? He felt a little flat, right? Right. Needed lots of tender foreplay to get him up again, wouldn't he agree? And time, time too. Exceptions to the ordinary existed, of course, P said. But that's what it was generally like, being a woman. You feel a little flat, sexually speaking—all the time.
Thinking about how he felt, after his orgasm, how flat flat was, he found the concept unappealing. It was going to take much tender foreplay to get him up again, even more than what was usually the case. In fact, he felt like going to dinner instead.
Sexually speaking, P told him, a woman generally and permanently felt like a man who has just had an orgasm. Near as P could make out, okay? With all her experience and knowledge, that was pretty close to what a woman felt. And she was pretty knowledgeable, and experienced, wouldn't he agree?
So, as a man who had just had an orgasm, did he feel like sex any time soon? No, she wanted the truth, okay? He felt a little flat, right? Right. Needed lots of tender foreplay to get him up again, wouldn't he agree? And time, time too. Exceptions to the ordinary existed, of course, P said. But that's what it was generally like, being a woman. You feel a little flat, sexually speaking—all the time.
Thinking about how he felt, after his orgasm, how flat flat was, he found the concept unappealing. It was going to take much tender foreplay to get him up again, even more than what was usually the case. In fact, he felt like going to dinner instead.
Tuesday
Spoilt, lazy daughters
But of course, said the successfully married—and now rich and powerful—mother: Her darling, lazy, spoilt daughters haven't had to bother.
She'd done so well for everyone. Too well. Nailing their rich and powerful father when it mattered. Panting for him when she had to, men were so easily fooled. Men like their rich and powerful father easiest of all. They liked to hear a girl pant, the harder the better.
And getting pregnant clinched everything, of course.
She'd done so well for everyone. Too well. Nailing their rich and powerful father when it mattered. Panting for him when she had to, men were so easily fooled. Men like their rich and powerful father easiest of all. They liked to hear a girl pant, the harder the better.
And getting pregnant clinched everything, of course.
Wednesday
Avoiding involvememt
He was disclosing how he planned to avoid 'involvement' with somebody very attractive he had just met. And who also scared the hell out of him.
He started by misquoting Machiavelli: 'A man who mistrusts his emotions is more than half saved...'
But...here was the plan...
Look, he knew a very beautiful hooker. Call girl, in fact. He would call this exclusive call girl... (How 'exclusive' is a call girl?) Ask her to call on him tomorrow.
She was very expensive—as expensive as she was exclusive—but cost effective at the price. (Is 'exclusivity' price-related?)
Anycase, an envelope discreetly placed in her Chanel bag was all that was called for. She did not lock her Chanel bag, she was that discreet.
No jealousies either—except about other call girls. And this was just business jealousy. Also, no insecurities about him. No politics, no serious manipulation of him.
Apparently they never fought, she brought all her own toys, had seemingly easy orgasms by the ton in multiples of three. Good for her, he said. Implying, If she did I'm glad...but I'm not that naive.
She even had a kind of orgasm giving him head. As he said this, his face screwed in disbelief.
Heck, they even talked, the two of them, he said.
Sometimes she'd crack a couple of eggs for the two of them, fry bacon. He had to remind himself, sometimes, she was a hooker. A beautiful hooker, strictly on business, frying bacon and eggs.
So that was the plan, and what did I think?
I tried to sound hopeful. But obviously not hopeful enough because he began all over again.
He started by misquoting Machiavelli: 'A man who mistrusts his emotions is more than half saved...'
But...here was the plan...
Look, he knew a very beautiful hooker. Call girl, in fact. He would call this exclusive call girl... (How 'exclusive' is a call girl?) Ask her to call on him tomorrow.
She was very expensive—as expensive as she was exclusive—but cost effective at the price. (Is 'exclusivity' price-related?)
Anycase, an envelope discreetly placed in her Chanel bag was all that was called for. She did not lock her Chanel bag, she was that discreet.
No jealousies either—except about other call girls. And this was just business jealousy. Also, no insecurities about him. No politics, no serious manipulation of him.
Apparently they never fought, she brought all her own toys, had seemingly easy orgasms by the ton in multiples of three. Good for her, he said. Implying, If she did I'm glad...but I'm not that naive.
She even had a kind of orgasm giving him head. As he said this, his face screwed in disbelief.
Heck, they even talked, the two of them, he said.
Sometimes she'd crack a couple of eggs for the two of them, fry bacon. He had to remind himself, sometimes, she was a hooker. A beautiful hooker, strictly on business, frying bacon and eggs.
So that was the plan, and what did I think?
I tried to sound hopeful. But obviously not hopeful enough because he began all over again.
The Boss, his daughter, and J
J was in complaining mood.
He'd been wondering why the Boss had been so good to him. And now he was convinced that he'd found out why, after all.
The Boss wanted to marry off his little girl, trade her for his, J's, little place in the House. A place at the high table in The Wall Street House the Boss had built.
Apparently, the Boss was about as subtle as a House pre-dawn takeover bid.
But what's the complaint?
What has ever changed?
The rich bazaar merchant, his marriageable daughter on the shelf, her prospective husband—and the husband's dowry?
How to move otherwise unwanted merchandise by making a special offer of a discount daughter with House coupons attached.
Has it ever changed? The rich man, his daughter, her fiancee, the finances, some finessing.
Maybe J should have been glad he was worth finessing, but he wasn't in the mood to hear it.
Or so he said.
Probably he wasn't complaining after all. More like boasting.
He'd been wondering why the Boss had been so good to him. And now he was convinced that he'd found out why, after all.
The Boss wanted to marry off his little girl, trade her for his, J's, little place in the House. A place at the high table in The Wall Street House the Boss had built.
Apparently, the Boss was about as subtle as a House pre-dawn takeover bid.
But what's the complaint?
What has ever changed?
The rich bazaar merchant, his marriageable daughter on the shelf, her prospective husband—and the husband's dowry?
How to move otherwise unwanted merchandise by making a special offer of a discount daughter with House coupons attached.
Has it ever changed? The rich man, his daughter, her fiancee, the finances, some finessing.
Maybe J should have been glad he was worth finessing, but he wasn't in the mood to hear it.
Or so he said.
Probably he wasn't complaining after all. More like boasting.
Thursday
Sexy implants
Bumping into a cocktail waitress who worked the casino floor, he saw her look down to her breasts.
Again, she looked.
Then, God, it dawned! Her implants had been done! They were bigger, more rounded, closer together—more sexy than they had ever been.
But, see, the irony had obviously escaped her.
Her implants had been done to make her more sexy. A point reinforced even as he examined them while she balanced her drinks tray, and allowed his inspection to pass. Here she was, faking a so-called erogenous zone through having wasted and destroyed under the surgeon's knife whatever feeling she'd ever had there. This 'erogenous zone' now comprised two unfeeling implants!
Not only had a basic numbness resided between her legs, but now also did it reside in her fake breasts!
And no doubt should some unwitting male ever fondle either sexy looking implant, she would fake some kind of ecstasy!
'Beautiful, really beautiful,' he faked.
And, pleased, she swept away.
Again, she looked.
Then, God, it dawned! Her implants had been done! They were bigger, more rounded, closer together—more sexy than they had ever been.
But, see, the irony had obviously escaped her.
Her implants had been done to make her more sexy. A point reinforced even as he examined them while she balanced her drinks tray, and allowed his inspection to pass. Here she was, faking a so-called erogenous zone through having wasted and destroyed under the surgeon's knife whatever feeling she'd ever had there. This 'erogenous zone' now comprised two unfeeling implants!
Not only had a basic numbness resided between her legs, but now also did it reside in her fake breasts!
And no doubt should some unwitting male ever fondle either sexy looking implant, she would fake some kind of ecstasy!
'Beautiful, really beautiful,' he faked.
And, pleased, she swept away.
Friday
How she finished with her virginity
"Lie on your back. Take your pants down. Keep your legs together."
Aha, at least this one was functional. Hard, very functional. Hooooray!
So he was easy, very easy to mount—to cap. Especially when wet.
"And now I'm going to fuck the come out of you."
''I jest...
''Shut up. And keep your legs together."
''Cain't I...''
"I said, Shut up!"
She topped, capped and trapped him. Draped and covered him in silky, wet velvet.
And proceeded to fuck the come out of him.
Which took no time at all.
She felt the wet, but hardly any emotion. And she got very little from it, except this: She'd finished with something troubling her, pestering her—her virginity.
Felt like, Good...she'd done it. Dunnit!
Surpisingly, we all believed her.
She was telling us how she lost her virginity. Weird story, but we all believed everything she said. And the guy was a biker!
Aha, at least this one was functional. Hard, very functional. Hooooray!
So he was easy, very easy to mount—to cap. Especially when wet.
"And now I'm going to fuck the come out of you."
''I jest...
''Shut up. And keep your legs together."
''Cain't I...''
"I said, Shut up!"
She topped, capped and trapped him. Draped and covered him in silky, wet velvet.
And proceeded to fuck the come out of him.
Which took no time at all.
She felt the wet, but hardly any emotion. And she got very little from it, except this: She'd finished with something troubling her, pestering her—her virginity.
Felt like, Good...she'd done it. Dunnit!
Surpisingly, we all believed her.
She was telling us how she lost her virginity. Weird story, but we all believed everything she said. And the guy was a biker!
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