What I Want

Chapter 1

My experiences with women other than my wife has left me with sharply defined needs, or, if you prefer, wants. I have become very much aware of exactly what it is that turns me on. I know exactly what I’m looking for in a sex act to get the maximal amount of pleasure.

I’m not a selfish person. But I strongly desire to spend just 2 or 3 hours each week living out these precise desires. When I have sex with my wife, I very much want to please her. When I have sex that I am paying for, it’s all about my penis (which I readily admit is really all about my mind).

It was unfortunately the case that my three year relationship with my idea of a perfect girl had come to an end. Her pending marriage turned on the “guilt” button inside her head. While I was sorry about this, I honestly, truly never wanted to be messing around with a girl’s head. I didn’t want her to do something she didn’t like doing, and I didn’t want her to do something she didn’t feel it was okay to do. I’m not into causing pain; physical or psychological.

I took a 3 month hiatus from extra-marital sex, but found my desires for it hadn’t lessened.

I knew what I wanted. But I also knew it would be difficult to find. I’m a good looking man, but I’m no movie star, and the girl I wanted would be closer to half my age.

I would have preferred it if she weren’t a whore by profession, but its not like I had access to a stash of 20 year old hotties from some other means. And so I began calling escorts and escort agencies on a weekly basis, hoping to once again meet Miss Right-For-Me.

I had mixed success. I wanted a girl who was a 9 or 10 out of 10. Most I saw were 5’s, 6’s, and 7’s. Now of course my 10 isn’t necessarily your 10. But, like I keep saying, I knew what I wanted.

I wanted a girl between the ages of 18 and 22. Well the girls I saw all claimed to be in this age range, but most were lying. I wanted a girl who’d be willing to do things with me that went beyond the services of an escort. These included kissing, oral sex without a condom finished by swallowing, ejaculating wherever I wanted, and eventually intercourse without a condom too, once the necessary precautions were not needed by evidence of a medical certificate. I needed too to know something of her lifestyle – so that I’d feel comfortable in a continuing paid for relationship.

Things like anal sex and ass-licking (mine) would be considered a valuable bonus.

Well I knew in advance it would be hard to find such a girl – and particularly hard to find one out of the escort business. However, I was somewhat surprised that while 6 months later I had not found the right girl, I had at least experienced a number of fine encounters and a number of girls who came pretty close.

There was Leslie. Leslie was 19. She was very interested in the relationship as I described it as the money was double what she was getting from her escort agency. She had long, straight blonde hair and had a body designed perfectly for a pair of very tight jeans. Her flat stomach was accentuated with a ring in her belly button. This was a relatively new phenomenon then, but it added to her perceived sluttiness, which for me was a plus.

Leslie was willing to do what I wanted. She dressed the way I wanted her to, she knew how to please a man, and always seemed happy. But she just wasn’t perfect.

You see, Leslie didn’t like the taste of cum. She was perfectly willing to suck the cum out of me, but when I came in her mouth, you could tell she was really grossed out by it. Her face would scrunch up and she’d excuse herself to go to the bathroom where she could rinse and gargle.

And I just couldn’t take it. I can still see clearly in my mind a picture of her wearing her tight jeans, but topless, on her knees before me with several inches of my cock in her mouth. But I felt awful for her sake when I’d cum. And this ruined the experience.

Instead of the afterplay that should accompany a good blow job with the licking and kissing and gentle sucking of the tip, shaft and balls, along with the requisite sight of a little cum rolling down the chin, I saw a girl who was clearly disgusted by what she had in her mouth, who had to race off before she gagged.

She told me to not worry about it. She was willing to do it. But the fact is, I was turned off at the idea of putting someone through that. After a couple of months I broke it off.

Chapter 2

Then there was Amy. She worked for a small agency and was from a rural town and now in the big city. I would have guessed she was estranged from her family for whatever reasons, and must have needed money badly.

She was an 8 out of 10. Just eighteen years old, she had short black hair, a great butt, and she was very tall with perfect, thin young legs. She didn’t seem too bright, and she had that whore look to her that was recognizable regardless of what she wore. She, too, was quite willing to engage in a relationship on my terms. So eager in fact, that I knew I would want her to be tested regularly for STDs.

We began by my listing the things I liked to do. She just said, “no problem” to them all. At one point out of the blue she added, “For what you are paying me, if you want to you could even tie me up.” I went on, not showing my interest in this.

I had engaged in mild bondage acts with other girls before, but usually only after getting to know them for several months. Here was a girl who at eighteen had already experienced more about sex than many had by thirty.

My mind was racing. Tying up a girl who knows you and trusts you was one thing. But tying up a girl who has never even met you until a few minutes ago was, I admit, a turn on.

I made my mind up quickly and told her what I wanted this day – I wanted to strip her down to her panties, get her on her knees, tie her hands to her feet, and have her suck the cum out of me, while I talked dirty to her. She just said she didn’t have a problem with that, and we went to it.

I found some old neck ties while she stripped. When she was on her knees I used one tie to tie her left wrist to her right ankle, and the other to tie her right wrist to her left ankle. I didn’t tie it so tight as to cut off circulation (as I’m seriously not into causing physical pain). But there was no way she was going to untie my knots without my help.

Rather than get undressed immediately, I instead began talking “dirty” to her, telling her that I can’t believe what a slut she was. She responded, surprisingly, that sometimes she can’t believe it either.

For the next 90 minutes I put her mouth to work, placing my cock, my balls and my ass in it. I saw her cheek bulge as my cock pushed against it. I saw each ball disappear in her mouth. And I felt her tongue penetrate into my ass, as she sealed her lips around it. The first time I emptied my seed, not in her mouth, but around it. I rubbed my cock in the sperm and around her face poking it between her lips so that she’d get a good taste of it. The second time was a repeat.

I saw her four times. As it turns out I never ended up having intercourse with her. Instead, I just repeated the same game plan – on her knees, bondage, name-calling, cocksucking, ass-licking, and a good splattering of sperm on her face.

Then she disappeared. Her personal cell phone number stopped working. Her escort agency went out of business. I kept trying for a month, without success. I never saw her again or found out what happened.

But I want to leave you with only this thought: even though she wasn’t absolutely a perfect fit for me, I remember my orgasms being remarkably powerful. I felt a strong surge of power and control as I covered her face and tongue. I had always known that for me the notion of power and control were intimately connected to my sexual desires. My time with her was proof positive of this.

Chapter 3

I again found myself without a girl to satisfy my whims. In desperation I visited a strip joint. I happened to luck into a club which had several very sexy girls. I went back about several dozen times, and a tried other clubs as well.

I paid for lap dances from several girls.

Now I’ll be honest. I don’t get the whole strip club enterprise. You get aroused, you get your lap dance from a sexy girl. She grinds her body against the front of your pants. If you are lucky she will grab you where it counts and tug a bit, while making sure the manager of the club is nowhere to be seen. But I can’t imagine finishing.

Now some of the girls told me that guys do cum in their pants. I find it hard to believe, but can’t dismiss it outright. But I find the very idea disgusting. Who wants to walk around with cum in their underwear?

So basically, at a strip club you get all hot and bothered, but are left high and dry. And basically, you spend about the same amount as you would on an escort, if you stay an hour.

I just don’t get it.

I just don’t get it, unless you are like me, and are there for a different purpose.

There were 4 or 5 girls who I thought suited me. Young, slim, gorgeous, and sexy they were, and all, by their profession had the slutty clothing that goes with the business.

What I found out was kind of interesting. The girls in strip joints aren’t all whores. Many of them draw this weird line between what they do, which often included grabbing a man’s cock through his pants and masturbating him while naked, and actually having sex for money.

For some it was a safety issue. Being in a club it’s harder for things to go wrong. There are bouncers nearby. For others it was a moral issue. “I’m an exotic dancer, not a whore,” was a common response.

A couple of girls caught my eye. One was from Romania. She was quite attractive, looked young, and very slim. She was eager to please when I received lap dances from her, so she found ways to hide the fact that her hand was grabbing me through my pants. When she did that body slide thing strippers, do she’d follow through with her head, so that her chin and mouth also made contact.

After several occasions, I propositioned her about seeing her outside of the club, and she said she’d have think about it. She was really happy to lap dance for me, but it was a big step for her to be alone with a guy and do his bidding for money.

During these sessions, I began to notice another girl. She was damn hot – tall, incredibly slim (downright skinny), with big but not too big breasts, and very noticeable long blonde hair that went half way down her back.

The day I first noticed her she was wearing a school girl uniform – the kind of uniform even the sluttiest school girl couldn’t get away with. The skirt was really short. The browse was partly unbuttoned and tied above the belly button, revealing a black bra and cleavage. She went by the name Paige.

I wanted a lap dance from her. The problems were twofold: First, was every time I’d go to this club, the Romanian girl would be on me in an instant. Second, this blonde girl just didn’t hustle for her money. Men went after her. The other girls, including my Romanian, attempted to hustle every guy, inviting them for private lap dances. But not this blonde! She’d take a table at the back and just sit there waiting for the guy to come to her. The traffic for her was steady. But I wasn’t biting. I was fairly uncomfortable being in a strip joint. I didn’t like people seeing me. So the idea of getting up and walking over to her as people watched just wasn’t going to happen.

Finally, one day the opportunity presented itself. Walking back from a visit to the washroom she walked by the table I was sitting at, and I asked her to join me. She was wearing a shocking pink tight micro-mini dress and high heels.

“Paige” took me into the special lounge for private lap dances and I found out more about her. She was a local girl, just 21 young years old. She knew she was sexy, and yes, all the guys who come in hit on her and try to ask her out, and no, she has never agreed to go out with a guy she met at the club. Clearly finding guys to date wasn’t going to be a problem for her.

After a few lap dances, I asked her if she was always such a good girl when she danced. She asked me what I had in mind. I told her I believed in accidents and I was wondering when her hand would accidentally pass by the front of my pants. Seconds later the accident happened.

I was in total lust with this skinny sexy girl. Feeling too horny I went for the big question and asked her “so how much money would it take to get her to spend a couple of hours with me outside this place.” She smiled and said, “a lot; too much.”

I didn’t want to leave it at that and asked her how much. She named a price which she thought would scare me off. But she was surprised when I agreed to the amount. She said that she thought I wouldn’t be willing; that she chose a high price to scare me off as she really didn’t need too much money, with her present employment paying quite well.

Now her price was quite high. It was higher than I had paid for anyone else. But not so high, that it wouldn’t be worth it just once.

I told her that her price was very steep, but that I’d pay it provided she agreed to my terms.

She naturally asked me what my terms were, but I could tell she believed me because she had made mention that my suit that I was wearing must have cost me a bundle.

All the time we were talking she was completely naked rubbing up against me or grabbing me. I just had to have her.

I listed my terms. I was kind of surprised she agreed. One of the terms was oral without a condom. I realized that because she had no experience in the sex for money trade, she didn’t know this was a big issue. She just figured if a guy is really willing to fork out that kind of dough, you do what he wants.

I left the strip joint that day barely able to walk. It really hurt.

We arranged to meet in a parking lot near where she lived at lunch time. I had no intention of taking her to lunch. One of my conditions was that she was to bring with her a “hooker outfit” like very tight jeans. It was 48 hours later now and I couldn’t get my mind of the idea of seeing her dressed like that.

I waited.

She didn’t show up.

The next day I went back to the strip club to find out what happened. I actually debated doing this. Had she played me for a chump? Why give her a chance to explain herself? Why not begin to look for someone else?

She wasn’t there. But my Romanian girl was. And she had news for me. She’d was willing to bed me.

We arranged a meeting for the next day. My head was spinning. This girl was really hot, but I knew deep down that it was on Paige that I was fixated.

I walked out of the club feeling that I had gone trophy fishing and had caught a nice fish, but not the fish I wanted. The Romanian girl was very sexy. But she didn’t have a natural sluttiness to her. I could figure out her story. She must have been very poor and was doing what she could to get money.

So I walked out of the club with mixed emotions. And I walked right into Paige. As soon as she saw me she said “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I completely forgot!”

All I could muster was a “really?”

She reiterated how sorry she was. Then she went into her purse and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. She put her real name on it – Mara – and her cell phone number. She said she wouldn’t be giving me this if she were lying. She had to go in for work, but we arranged once again to get to meet j- this time the day after the Romanian girl!

So now here I was – with two dates on successive days with hot strippers who work for the same strip joint!

Two days later, I was again waiting – this time in another parking lot. As I figured, the Romanian girl showed up. It turns out my hunch was right about her. She was pretty desperate for money as she sent money back home for her family.

I got something of her life story while she removed her top in the nearby cheap hotel room I had paid for.

I had seen her nude before. But somehow being alone with her was without a doubt more erotic. But the fact was that my sexual urges were dampened by the fact that I knew her life situation wasn’t so good.

You could tell she was a little ashamed. In her view (a view I don’t share) she was about to fall as low as it gets for a girl. Being a stripper still allowed her to say with pride that she wasn’t a whore. You could see this meant something to her.

We kissed, but I could tell she was nervous. I thought she might ease up a little if we started with oral sex first. With her pants still on she got on her knees and gave me a blow job. She wasn’t into it, and neither was I to the extent that I should.

I’ve said before I don’t want to cause anyone pain. Some girls deep down just don’t mind being a whore. This one did.

It took a while, but I did ejaculate in her mouth. I took a minute to recover, and then I told her I actually was in a rush that day and would have to go. She seemed relieved that it was over. I felt badly for her. She asked me if it was good and I told her it was. She asked me when we would meet again. I responded, “next week”, and left it at that.

In my mind, the Romanian girl was not right for me. It was an okay experience, but I wanted perfection. My mind returned to Mara. I really wanted her.

So once again, I found myself waiting in the original parking lot. There was no sign of that tall, skinny, blonde slut. I waited a further fifteen minutes past our arranged meeting time and then got out my cell phone. After a few rings, to my surprise, she answered.

It turns out she had forgot again. She was sorry, again. She said she was being honest, and if I still wanted to, she could meet me in about a half hour.

At this point, I just wanted to put an end to the chase. So I agreed to wait. I didn’t tell her, but I decided that if I didn’t get her today, I was going to give up on her completely. I wouldn’t even have her dance for me again. I’d blow of this day, but no more than this day.

A half hour went by and there was (surprise!) no Mara. I waited a few more minutes and called again. She answered and said she was about 10 minutes away. She was, apparently, in a taxi, and the taxi had come late. I was incredulous but I waited.

A taxi then pulled into the parking lot.

After a few moments, out of this taxi walked the sexiest, sluttiest young girl I’ve ever seen. She was wearing a cut-off shirt that displayed most of her perfect stomach. The cheap gem attached to her belly button sparkled. She had on the tightest stretch jeans I’ve ever seen – very low-rise, and fringed at the top as if they’d been cut to be even more low-rise. She had on a pair of sort-of running shoes – the ones with the 3 inch thick heels.

You could tell the taxi driver thought she was a prostitute. I have never been so turned on in my life. She walked to my car and got in.

She asked me if I had the money, and I showed her I did. She said she was very nervous. She said she had never done anything like this, but I seemed like a decent guy. She made some crack that her mom told her there is a first time for everything.

I told her how hot she looked. I told her that I was expecting her to bring the sexy outfit with her, and that she didn’t have to wear it in public. She just said she didn’t mind.

I realized that I had found what I wanted. Mara was a girl who wasn’t a whore, but would be a whore for me. Better she was slutty, and that sluttiness was natural to her. Wearing ridiculously tight jeans and showing your stomach were things she felt comfortable with in public.

We got to the hotel (the same one I had been to the day before) and I paid for the room. In the corridor, I grabbed at her butt as we walked looking for our door. I had gotten a suite this time, because I wasn’t crazy about the previous room.