Richard, or Rich as most of his friends called him, couldn't quite get his head around his current relationship with his wife of nearly thirty years. What most confused him was how three emotions worked or didn't work together. The merging, or not, of love, affection and sex were the three and he couldn't quite fathom out whether they were all interrelated and dependent on each other or completely separate and individual. He was pretty sure, in fact he knew, that sex could stand alone and you could have that without the others, although without one or both it was nowhere near as satisfying and affection didn't need love but, could you have love without affection and vice versa and did love inevitably lead to sex, grown up love that is!
He knew that he was being pedantic, rather ridiculous and overthinking the situation but the problem was real to him because he had love, or thought he did, but it was pretty much without the other two. He and Linda had been married for nearly thirty years. They had two children, a nice house, enough money to be comfortable and he had a good pension lined up for when he retired at fifty-five in two years' time. So, some aspects of his life and their marriage were fine, but those three weren't or, to be more accurate the relationship between them wasn't!
It was almost a year since they'd had sex of any sort. They never touched each other intimately and it was at least that long since he had fondled her tits or bum or she his genitals. Equally, other than a peck of goodbye on the cheek they didn't kiss and their lips hadn't met for as long as he could recall. They hadn't even kissed fully the last few times they'd had sex. They were friendly, although nowadays they rowed, usually over minor issues, more frequently but got over them quickly although there was no intimate making up.
In his, quite silly as he recognised it, brain storms on the three emotions he knew, or thought he did, that they loved each other, although that was in their own way which, after such a long relationship was vastly different to how it had been when they were younger. What they had, he knew, was different to the love of a new relationship. Although they never told each other that they loved each other he was confident that it was mutual and although he had strayed a few times, he had the male arrogance that Linda hadn't. She showed no inclination to have sex with him nor any signs of missing it at all which he put down to her being post-menopausal although they had never discussed that either.
So, he had love, of a sort, but no sex nor affection and, he was realising as he slinked through his fifties, it was the latter which he missed most. Well not straight affection, not the sort you'd show to parents or children or, he would smile to himself, their dog. It was, as he called it, sexual affection. Looking at a woman's body, seeing her breasts and nipples, watching them harden and feeling the wonderfully soft, yet firm fleshiness of a pair of tits irrespective of their size. Watching her legs from her ankles all the way up to her thighs and revelling in the smooth, lithe shapeliness of them as they flowed into the swell of her bum. Feeling all of that, having it against his nudity and being body to body and flesh to flesh with a woman. Having her hair caress his body, her breasts squash against his chest and the softness of her belly cocoon the hardness of his erection. Smelling her perfume and glorying in the soft smoothness of her skin, running his hands over it wherever she welcomed them and, maybe, following that with his lips and tongue. These were the things that he most missed and, he had come to accept, was what he wanted and needed. Oddly, it wasn't actually fucking a woman that was his big miss for he felt he could do without that if he just got some of the affection.
Inevitably, probably, as Rich imagined experiencing such things he would get hard and masturbate and that would make him wonder if Linda or women of her age did that too? He had no idea and knew he couldn't ask her but wished that he knew. Thinking along those lines which, he realised was happening more often as he got older, made him wonder just where his sex life would go as he went further through middle age? Had he had his last fuck? Had Linda and he finished completely? Could he start seriously cheating, possibly find a couple of fwbs or have an affair, maybe start going to massage places or hookers, wherever the hell they might be?
More frequently recently he'd been looking at porn on the net. Most of it passed him by as it was too outrageous and didn't have any build up or story to it and even less affection. But some did and now and then it made him masturbate. That was the gentler, more believable and realistic stuff, stories he realised that had some affection to the plot. It was while he was looking at that sort of porn that he came across an ad on the internet that caught his eye, it read: INTIMATE MOMENTS for MATURE MEN.
*
I'd had my salon, or studio as I preferred to call it thinking that was classier, for a couple of months now and things were going well. I had worked out when I was an escort that some of the men who used such services were after female company and affection as much, well almost, as they were the full sex. From that had come my venture of a studio offering that as its main service with me being the provider, that is until thing get too much for just me and I call on some of the girls I worked with when I was dancing, stripping, modelling and briefly being an escort. I'd set up a website and had got a steady stream of replies that I'd converted into a nicely manageable series of clients who after careful screening came to visit me. After running the ad for a few weeks someone had suggested that I tweak it slightly and change older as it had been up until last week to mature as it was now and that had increased the response.
In the internet ad and during the subsequent phone calls I stressed that I was offering affection and that yes there was a sexual side to it but full sex wasn't on the agenda. So far that had worked well and my questioning and discussions on the phone had managed to ensure that all the clients so far stuck to that although a few did ask if they could fuck me but were pleasant when I turned them down explaining that only happened on subsequent visits and then not on all of them. So far only two had made return visits with one not wanting full sex and the other suffering quite extreme premature ejaculation all over my thighs as I was sliding the rubber onto him.
I had developed a range of services for my clients, as I thought of them rather than punters as they had been in the escort game, so when a new one, Richard, called on the burner phone I'd bought just for use with the ad,. I explained them all to him and he chose being massaged as the centre piece of his intimate moments although as he said, "I'm really not sure what I want it's just being with a woman and her being affectionate that I'm looking for."
As usual, if the client hadn't requested something special by way of how I was dressed, I was wearing a white coat that had press studs up the front the top three of which I left undone. I knew that was really at least one too many as it showed quite a deep cleavage between the swells of my D cup breasts and flashes of the white diaphanous bra. Under the coat I was just wearing white bikini panties that were pretty much see through and, of course, I was wearing heels. I've always had quite a thing for them and now own thirty or so pairs and refuse to throw any away. They are in a range of styles including some with ankle straps, high heeled sandals and stilettos and most are as high as I can handle usually three and half inches to five inches.
So as I waited for my next client Rich, my second of the day, I was dressed like that as I went through the phone call procedure I'd established to prevent time wasters and others I deemed as potential danger from knowing where the salon was. Rich had 'passed' all the tests on the two initial phone calls and had complied with those I insisted upon on the day of our appointment and I was now opening the door to him. Although as usual we had exchanged photographs, seeing a client for the first time face to face was always a surprise and Rich was no exception. Like most clients he was nervous as he came into the salon and we said our hellos as I stood close to him on tip toe as he was just over six feet tall, slid my arm around his neck and kissed him on both cheeks and as an ice breaker smiled and said, "Don't worry Rich when I know you better it'll be on the lips."
Also, like many, well actually probably most, clients he found chatting rather difficult to start with so I gabbled on filling the otherwise long silences with what were probably inanities but atmosphere building. I reiterated what we'd discussed on the phone about what physical services over and above talking and holding each other were available including, washing and drying my hair, showering together, me bathing him, simply lying in each other's arms talking, him undressing or dressing me and, of course the old favourite massage both me doing him, him doing me and both ways one after the other.
"So, okay Rich, there's no hurry," I said flicking the top press stud on the coat undone as he watched most of my boobs being exposed, "Shall I undress for you or would you prefer to undress me before you shower?" I went on as we stood a few feet apart next to the massage table
"Er, um may I just watch?" he asked in the polite way that nearly all of my clients addressed me.
