Ode to a Cali Courtesan

This is a celebration of one particular Santa Barbara courtesan. This is a paean to Megan. A whore. A courtesan of the highest order...and a description of an encounter with her and her mouth.

There are scores of whores here in Santa Barbara. I believe we possess, within our tony borders, some of the greatest whores in the world.

Whores are divided into two kinds, one on each side of the city. (There's a price difference.) I live a little south of Santa Barbara. I'm in show biz, I have two teen-aged kids, and a happy, stay at home wife whom I love. But I've never found a better hetaera (ancient Greek word for temple whore) than Megan.

Megan lives in what Santa Barbarians call 'the city' - it's a mixture of suburbs, crowded streets, big apartment buildings, close to the 101. It's not shiny and new, and its buildings are urban on the main streets, suburban on the side streets. Office buildings and condos mix with single-family homes. (It's the cheap side. Prices for whores are 100 dollars less, on average, than in the super rich area -but the service here on the cheap side is actually better. Typical!)

Megan (who was born in Germany and came here when she was a kid -- retaining just the faintest of Teutonic accents - and that's all I know about her) lives in a big vermillion- colored sprawling condo block that fronts the 101 Freeway.

These towers teem with courtesans. In an honest world, they wouldn't have to hide their services -- they could have brass plaques! But we don't live in an honest world. Well, fine. We can pay for love in peace.

It is not Megan's pert big tits, blonde good looks, or milky white skin that pays her so well, nor is it her open mesh dress, silver slave collar, lack of underwear and heels that are her biggest asset. Nope. It's her amazing sweet manner, her eagerness to please, that lets you know, instantly -- that she is going to be a true courtesan angel -- with an angle. Her angle?

Puppyish eager enthusiasm.

Now that may sound common to whores, yes? Eager enthusiasm. Smiling. Eager to please. Yet - it is not. I mean -- why should it be? Most people are not eager to please. I'm not. You're probably not. Most whores are, like most humans, just making it up as they go along. Also, they may be more scared than Megan - less smart. But Megan has figured out a whore persona that fits her own - it's her own little genius. A bubbly, panting need to make you happy. What a moneymaker.

Certain sterling traits can define a whore, and bring her business -- and they are great qualities to have in life, not just whoredom.

Megan's angle, her selling package, is this eagerness -- it makes buying this courtesan's talented time, once in awhile, an act of therapy for me. I'm willing to state that as fact. Doctors, shrinks? Not for me. Vivacious whores? Yes.

Yes, I am European. So sue me.

Today, when I arrive at 3 PM, Megan seems ecstatic to see me. (Whore job one -- done)

As she offers me crudités and a glass of wine (her trademark), rather breathlessly, I have to admire this blatant steal of Marilyn Monroe's domestic seductive feminine avidity -- well, it is just genius -- and yes, part of her courtesan talent is that you really do believe she really feels that eagerness. Is she a great actress? Sure! The best whores are. But it's also (I theorize) because this eagerness to please her customer sexually is tapping into real elements of her real personality. She's a people pleaser.

The result is a wonderful whore experience. Her sweetness is a balm. In this desert ocean city, where few folks are nice about anything beneath their blonde, bland good manners, Megan is a professional good girl.

Megan's apartment is totally decorated in black -- but it's tasteful, and somehow, perhaps because she's German, techno-cool. Clean, shiny furniture, but not much of it. And no personal effects at all.

Megan somehow manages to hides her profession from her neighbors-- the hallways are big, long, angled -- like a giant hotel - a panopticon made for sin. There's no concierge, no one watching the front door.

Of course, you do only pass four apartment doors on your way in, then up a discrete fire stairwell that apparently no one uses, to get to her second floor pad in the corner tower.

I think the building has other whores too. Because I had been bemused to notice, as I came up the walk, another guy, a rocker type in a trench coat with long, silky black, clearly dyed hair, pacing in the open-air lobby with his phone to his ear. JOHN should be stamped on his back. I'm guessing he is seeing another whore in the building. It's a funny world - the world of secret sex. Maybe there are ten whores in the building. Maybe the whores like the building and have formed part of the building association.

Megan has a living room, office, and a bedroom, (and a sweet cat who is shy). It's barely furnished, though she says she's lived there for years. I'm not sure of the truth. Is it a fuck room set? Does she actually live somewhere else? I don't think so. I just think she's got her life divided into neat compartments. Whores tend to do that.

Now begins a happy two minutes of chatting -- she wants to know about my day. She dashes to her e-mail, back to me, gives me a tongue kiss, then another deeper one, probing, then back to the fridge to make sure I've got a cold enough drink, she's all aflutter with excitement that I'm here. She's more naked than naked in that mesh sheer dress with her tits peeking out above the scoop collar. She has on a silver slave chain necklace, heavy. She's got an athletic body, a little fuller than slim, but not chunky -- just nicely muscled. I've always been into the Dark Lady syndrome; my loves are usually sullen, skinny, bohemian types. Megan is their exact opposite, their photographic negative -- blonde, blue -eyed, big breasted, with the excellent size and shape of a Bavarian bar girl's chest. I'm not a huge boob man, but Megan's are undeniably great. She's 5 8, curved, with a big set of astoundingly natural tits like nippled headlights. She loves to show them off. Rare in this fake tit world...

She also has a pretty, hairless pussy, but it isn't very visible. It's as tucked away as her personality is bubbly and extroverted - charming in the extreme. Because I'm pretty sure Megan doesn't enjoy 'normal' sex much with guys. I know she doesn't have a boyfriend. She laughed when I asked. And she's also eager to bring in another girl. "But" she laughs, "I will still want to be on the bottom." Megan would be the sub to the girl, too. The girl knows her talent. It makes her a fortune that she does.

Our chat is fun -- it's pleasantly piquant to have a conversation about the day's politics and events with a statuesque, nearly naked blonde in a mesh see through dress, her tits perkily poking through, the nipples coming through the knit diamonds. She has on nothing below, and her near pastry plump ingénue legs are bare to her clacking shoes. Delicious.

One surprising fact about whores is that they are often very smart. Megan is very smart. She's interesting. And interested. We trade jokes -- and she shows me her new computer. Quickly she composes a special effect in Adobe Premiere that I admire, and we both laugh. I think she might want to be an editor, but she never presses me about this, thank goodness.

Suddenly she breathily asks, "Can I suck your cock?"

This is great whore-ship. Superb salesmanship and avidity for the job.

"Sure," I smile, "but let me hop in the shower."

That's only fair to a whore who is about to have your entire body under her sucking mouth.

She nods and runs to get me a fresh towel. I love being able to simply state what I want - and have it heard. Obeyed. It's part of the fantasy I have bought. (You can't do that with a spouse, if you want to keep a healthy marriage - I know this from my very long marriage - ha!) So to see such happy obeisance and service is part of the delight of Megan's act -- an act that pays big money precisely because it can be hard for someone to offer it. Megan knows how.

So, Next, I shower, and wash completely. I'm in good shape. Alas, I'm in my forties, but I work out with weights, surf, and I'm lean. I've even kept my still not graying head of hair. Of course I don't look anywhere near as good as your average twenty something, but I have done a good job of preservation and I've kept my form -- and I'm pleased that I don't gross myself out -- because I'm about to watch my body in mirrors.

My pleasure is starting even in the shower -- as I imagine what is to come.

I have had Megan before. In fact, just a few weeks ago, I had quite deliciously come in her mouth. I'd emptied my cock into her suckling mouth as she ate it. Again, Megan had long ago decided to specialize and make money on this particular affinity, and it is part of the secret of her amazing success as a courtesan, and why she gets paid so well. I am a successful commercial artist myself, of a kind -- so I appreciate great commercial art. And Megan's blowjobs should be forever ordained as timeless in a series of Quattrocento frescoes.

So. Today, I am planning on coming in her mouth again -- and the certainty of it makes my dick unfurl slightly in its circumcised sleeve as I soap it. Soon it would be in her hot, needing mouth and the anticipation of that certainty -- again, not something you get in real life very often, that certainty of good sex with absolutely no strings attached - well, that certainty feels best of all. Anticipation -- part of the courtesan art.

When I get out of the shower, I wrap the towel around my waist, do a cursory towel off, and pad lazily back out into her living room.

I walk over to the sofa, and she says 'oh, you're still wet" (from the shower) and laughs "I don't want you on my beautiful paisley couch wet."

She quickly starts toweling me off from behind. It is true, I see, she does have a really elegant, black and white paisley velvet couch. It is almost incongruous in the anonymity of this living room, but I'm all for preserving its beauty! Especially if it comes with this erotic towel off. As she pats me, she begins to stroke me and make little mewling noises, stropping my bare legs and back with the towel and then kissing my neck.

I just stand here, naked, while she towels me off, all the time whimpering excitedly.

Of course she is acting. But so? It is GOOD acting. It was very erotic, very hot.

Megan takes several long lovely minutes at her toweling, and she sighs in pleasure as she runs her toweled hands over my legs and butt.

She is sighing with pleasure at touching my body, and as she does I can feel the heat pooling in the head of my cock, a slight tightening of foreskin, peeling back, a little arousal.

I am completely at ease now, or almost entirely so, and that increases the pleasure enormously. I so enjoyed being toweled off and touched erotically; I can simply enjoy Megan as a whore instrument, as the physical source of my pleasure to come. I am pulsing with lust and appetite, and best of all, I am totally relaxed. And I am right to be. Everything is going to be wonderful.

How often in your life can you say that?

I'll tell you something else you may laugh at, but it's absolutely true. Mouth fucking Megan has made me a happier, better person to others. It has helped me be a better lover to my wife. Believe me or not -- this is true! And just watching Megan work? Why, it is like standing in front of a Titian painting. (Well, if the Titian model was also sucking you off.) Pure visual pleasure.

As she towels me, she glows with happy sexiness. Murmuring sweet nothings as she works, and little hushed sighs of desire, she now steps forward a little to rub around my front.

Megan's body is part of her whore-dom art, and as she dries me, she stands to the side and I can see her body in the living room mirror - and what do I see? A big-titted, nearly naked blonde, bending at her lithe, muscular waist, arms tensing with her happy work, her hands massaging as she works a towel over my body, kissing my spine occasionally, even licking my neck. I survey her languidly over my shoulder -- her natural big boobs jiggle. They are a happy genetic legacy of her German heritage, but I have to say I love the rest of her natural body too. It's got a nice white milky pallor to it -- I've come to love that. Her best features are her eyes and lips -- together they give her a sweet coquettish sexiness, a promise of pleasure. No one part of her body is spectacular, although the more I see of her fantastic tits, the sexier I think they are.

As she works my body, one foot coming up in her heel, I see that her legs, too, are that selfsame pellucid ceramic white -- her round little bottom tight, her stomach muscled -- lovely little muscles defining her waist. Now, Megan is not some stunning 22-year-old model whore -- she's a nice, slim, late 30's MILF. Truth is, she could be a nurse -- a hot one --and in a regular dress she'd be pretty enough to want to pick up in a bar, for sure. She's not a model perfect 20 something model whore, but those types don't seem to offer the same kind of eager service she does. If they do, well...bring them on!

Megan has a range of talents, but she's chosen to concentrate her studies in one area. Yes, she is such an avid lover of man meat, such a fabulous cocksucker -- I am already so enjoying watching her eager desire make her mouth coo and form an 'o', her arms strain to please me as she massages. Every part of her body strains to please you, to relish your sexual skin...it's sexy. She even puts this desire into simply toweling you off. This is an art, too -- and her eagerness powers ALL of her range of talents.

Eagerness to give. Part of why it is sexy is that it is so politically incorrect right now for women to be eager sub slaves. And I approve, philosophically. Politically, and personally, I am ALL for strong women - why not? I understand, historically, the unfairness to women in this world. I am all for equal pay for equal work, no sexism at home OR in the workplace.

But speaking honestly as a man, unless you are lucky enough to hook up with the rare woman who enjoys daily sex -- and wants it regardless of any small fights or spats you've had that day, who needs it with the male appetite, well -- there is a gap between what men and women want sexually.

Sure, women want sex. But it is one of 20 things they want. Sometimes they are as big in their sex needs as men, but they are far more variable in their desires. We men? We are more boringly focused on it. For men, sex is number one or two.

Vive le difference!

This gap between the sexes? It has always been filled by mistresses and by whores. Frankly, as a man, the best situation is to have both a mistress and a whore. it is necessary to have both, because the mistress is sometimes as hard to woo as one's wife, yes?

So to have a whore is a consummation devoutly to be wished. And puppy sub whores are, for me, my taste. Fashion or politics should not dictate a lack of appreciation for puppy subs! We cannot let the style of the day persuade us to neglect whole genres of whore talents! It's a rare art, being a good puppy sub whore. That's part of why Megan can charge what she does. When one buys an erotic experience, you are buying your own dream. That's part of what makes it hot --whether you are a man or a woman.

You may disagree, but I am convinced many enlightened, progressive strong women would love to be able to choose and buy precisely the kind of sex they want --if they were assured it was safe, (in all ways) and discrete. Many women have big dick fantasies and many others have fantasies of being eaten out for hours by a fantastic pussy sucker. The point is -- everyone's fantasy should get served by great whores - who are well paid. Some johns - male or female- would want all other varieties of kink -- just like all people do. We are an Obama Coalition of Everybody In Kink yeah!. Women should have the right to whores, too. If we made women feel really safe, objectively, about it, and not shaming -- I think women would enjoy prostitutes.

Well, enough pen see, yes? Let us return to the flower of the day -- my puppy sub whore.

So she dries me off - making little mewling noises of arousal and satisfaction. By now I am simply relaxing into her ministrations. She doesn't, as she polishes away, ever come near my penis, but rather simply stays at my legs, buttocks, and back.

Finally she is satisfied with the toweling and sits me down gently on her couch.

As I sit down, of course, I am totally naked. As I settle down on the couch, I lazily spread my legs apart, sprawling, while she stands in front of me.

She gets on her knees to crawl between my legs. She makes this a beautiful event, too.

Now I am a guy and I love my cock - it's a nice size and length, and as Megan kneels before me, I enjoy displaying it, as it lays on my lower belly, washed and pink and clean and very un-hard, but feeling wonderful.

Do you ever look down to see a lover eager to please you? It is a sexually magical moment, it's vestal temple whore experience.

Megan can, like a great actress, milk this moment, too.

Swiftly, and eagerly, she suddenly crawls forward right up to my cock, putting her hands on my legs, sighing heavily, hungrily, then quickly moving her head forward until her mouth just grazes my cock. She stops for a moment, and gives a soft sigh. Her eyes at cock level. Inches away.

My cock is still un-grown, but it is already plumping a little.

I watch her slowly move her hands towards my cock, trailing her fingers up my knees softly brushing, stroking a little.

Her mouth is now inches from my penis, which is still quiescent and coiled against my pelvis, leaning down to the right, visibly growing in anticipation of the close ministrations of her mouth...now getting so close...

Her eyes focus on my thick unhardened penis with desire. My penis, still mostly in its cowl, now uncurls a little, and actually moves a half inch, edging along, hopping along my belly like a snake uncoiling in the sun, dragging its growing head along slightly from the pressure behind. It can feel her fast breath now. It reacts happily, another tiny millimeter of skin stretching out, un-wrinkling.

She moans, her hot breath washing my foreskin and belled head of my cock, it's thickening 'German helmet' growing bolder, trying to nuzzle against her.

Again, I know it's an act. And? It's a fantastic act. It's a Maria Callas kind of performance, comrades. A Whore Opera. If a woman ever truly desires to know how to keep a man forever, she need only learn to do what Megan does so well -- right here. (Of course, many women DO know how to do this, but they think it demeaning, or too much work, or that no man 'deserves' it, or that they would not do it well. These may all be great reasons -- but they are also why a whore like Megan is in business.)

It happens quickly, but I see it as if in movie frames. Her lips are now open.

Her mouth is not heavy lipped, but her narrower upper lip is sexy when it curls -- and her mouth is the color of her nipples -- a kind of dark strawberry color. Her mouth has a pleasing curve when she smiles, the promise of cock sucking. Oh, Megan is a la Giaconda fellatia, as we would say in Italy – and a Russian poet (and I know a few) would describe it as a 'moue roué'. Well, Nabokov would, anyway. I wish I could write a LOLITA about a fellatrix - I am trying my best here, my friends...forgive me my lack of eloquence...

I now see the blonde bangs shift forward, brushing my cock, as her head bends down towards the cock. Delightedly I watch her naked collar bones widening in obeisance as she does so, and as more strands of blonde hair fall across my dick, I feel her hot breath, then cooler, then hot again, then butterfly like, as her slippery pointed tongue tip paints the wrinkled foreskin with hot saliva, the first touch.