Sam the Shemale (part 1)

I always have trouble figuring out of what gender shemales are. Do I say “he” or “she” when talking about them? As persons, I know they feel very feminine and actually they definitely may have a deliciously feminine personality, yet it always seems to me a grammatical stretch to use the “she” pronoun on someone who’s got a cock.

If I were to rate the homosexual part of me on a 10-degrees scale, I would say 1.5 to 2. I’ve had a few homosexual experiences however they did not particularly strike me as exceptional; men just don’t attract me sexually. But homosexuality definitely isn’t repulsive to me: in these experiences, it took no effort for me to get aroused. I know guys who would lose their erection at the contact or even the view of other men, let alone of another cock…

I met Sam the shemale at a nightclub in Singapore. She was from Thailand, and for a non exercised eye, she would have appeared as a stunner hot chick. For me, there was no doubt right from the start that she was a shemale. Not only was she quite taller than the average Asian girl but her slightly broad shoulders and denser muscular masse were clear clues that the girl had (or used to have; she might have had surgery too!) a cock.

She probably noticed that I was observing her so she approached me at the bar and said “Hi”. The pitch of her voice definitely confirmed my suspicions, although it was not too evidently a manly voice.

I smiled at her and replied “Hi, how are you tonight?” It was all politeness, in reality I was a bit annoyed, not by the fact that a shemale engaged a conversation with me, but because she was most likely a prostitute and, that night, I was not out to hire a sex-worker.

But Sam didn’t ask me to pay her a drink nor did she blatantly try to hook me. She just asked if I was from Singapore, I answered that I wasn’t, I was just staying overnight on a business trip. So we started chatting casually, Sam had a pleasant conversation. At some point, I (hypocritically) asked her if she was a real girl. She replied that was how she felt deep inside. I insisted: “But you have a cock right?” She smiled and answered by another question: “You don’t like cock?” I said I neither liked nor hate it, but I was satisfied leading a hetero sexual life. “So you wouldn’t sleep with me tonight?”

The point is that I was actually attracted. As I said she was a stunner, as far as looks are concerned, moreover she was very feminine and an agreeable company. Anyhow I let her know that I wasn’t disposed to hire a prostitute that night (especially a transvestite but I didn’t say that). “Oh! You don’t have to pay, you know, I’m not working here, I just like you.”

It took me no more than a few seconds to decide that I was, after all, up to renew the experience. I had sex with a few transvestites before, just for the sake of trying it, but none was nearly as hot as Sam.

I took Sam to my hotel room, still unsure it was really a good idea. Thai shemales (or ladyboys, rather, that’s how they’re called in Asia) have a bad name of being risky people to be around. Some are dishonest, sometimes even violent. Sam, though, seemed to be someone ok and decently educated.

As soon as the room’s door closed behind us, Sam literally jumped at me and kissed me passionately on the lips. The kiss had an authoritative intensity that contrasted with her feminine features and attitude, “No girl would kiss like that!” I thought.

Her body was like vibrating as I held her tight against me, I lifted her jersey skirt up and started rubbing her butt. I was aroused like hell as she moaned suggestively. “Hold on, she said between two sighs, I need to take a shower”…

(To be continued)

The Dumbfounded Cult of Orgasm

Bare some physiological dysfunctions, I believe that what makes people struggle to have an enjoyable sexual life are their misconceptions, rather than ‘technical’ issues. Among them is this idea that the finality of having sex is systematically to reach an orgasm.

‘How could that be considered as a misconception??’ I hear you ask, your eyebrows rising. Yeah, it is a deep one. Just think of this: orgasm is the moment when you are the less connected, interacting with your partner, actually you are out of control, dealing with the overwhelming sensations exploding in your own body and that leaves little room to be thinking about anything/anyone else; orgasm is the selfish moment of sexual intercourse while the whole point of eroticism is selflessness. Moreover, orgasms as they last a very short time (fortunately! If orgasms would last minutes, they would be quite unhealthy, even deadly!), are not what you remember from a sexual intercourse.

Orgasm, after all, is easier and quicker to attain by masturbation than with a partner. So if it was all about orgasm, we wouldn’t really need to have sex with other persons. The desire to have sex with someone is of the same order as our need to talk and socialize. It will never be repeated enough times that the element which makes a sex-session enjoyable and memorable is the quality of interaction between the partners, their ability to be playful, tender, teasing to each other and their willingness to SHARE an erotic moment.

I have my favorite stupid question I often ask to ladies I sleep with: ‘What’s your favorite thing in sex?’ I rarely got the answer ‘orgasm’ (actually, I don’t even remember having heard it once). In fact the most recurrent response is ‘The very moment I’m being penetrated’! That might sound odd, considering that penetration is definitely not the most efficient way to make a woman come. Yet, the answer does not surprise me that much: the specific instant when a man’s shaft enters a woman’s vagina symbolizes the starting of the physical connection, the realization of an ultimate intimacy.

The problem is that media, specialized literature (sex-blogs, anyone?) and porn all tend to brainwash people into having an orgasm-centered perception of sexuality. We’re told indirectly: ‘You don’t cum? What a loser!’ To be more specific, this subliminal message is mostly directed to women who are the most concerned with orgasmic dysfunction. Obviously, this is related to the history of sexuality. In the ‘dark-ages’, sexuality used to be linked almost exclusively to procreation and as a consequence, male orgasm was the big deal because it releases the miraculous sperm, source of life (need I mention I’m being sarcastic?) As a reaction, the feminist movements have made a case (with indeed some reason) to emphasize that female-orgasm is very important as well for sexual harmony. It was definitely necessary to say it loud but the trouble is that it has veered from an affirmative statement into an ideology.

That cult of orgasm has a very perverse effect on people who have difficulties reaching one: being obsessed to reach climax when you’re having sex is actually the best way to prevent it from happening.

So here’s my advice: forget orgasm, just enjoy the time you’re having. Free your mind in the first place, and then you will allow your body to release.

Random whore souvenirs (2)

Have you seen Kristen? Well, she’s hot, but not THAT hot, IMO, I mean, not to the point that I would pay 4,300 bucks to sleep with her. I’m too used to cheap hookers, I guess… Actually, that pretty lady has the kind of girl-next-door looks which makes you want her to be your girlfriend; maybe that’s why some guys waste so much money on her but, ironically, as soon as the money gets involved, the GF fantasy vanishes. It’s particularly difficult for a whore and her client to make their interaction evolve into a love affair. Sex-workers most often ban the idea of getting sentimentally involved with their clients. Some would try, though, but it often leads to failure (mind you, ordinary relationships often lead to failure as well, but that’s another story).

However, I can say that I’ve got quite friendly with some sex-workers I encountered. Those were not long-lasting friendships; I have the kind of life that easily gets me out of touch from people I really appreciate; but they were really sincere, we could get over the fact that we did have paid-for-sex in the first place.

That was the case with C., a girl I had 15 years ago. I met her in a night club and I quickly spotted her as a hooker from the overly sexy way she was dressed. She was decently pretty, with a cheerful attitude and her body was a stunner. I had hired her three times, each time we would have sex for hours. By the way, her pussy tasted slightly sweet, that really amazed me. One time, I went to the night club with just the idea of having a glass or two, to loosen up and then go home. C. was there; she came to me and we chatted. She told me about her studies, I told about my job which was dreadfully exhausting at the very time, lots of stress, business difficulties. After a while, as I planned, I told her I would go home. Visibly disappointed she said ‘Oh well! You don’t take me with you?’ Quite embarrassed, I had to let her know I was short on cash, due to the business problems my partner and I were facing. ‘I don’t care, she replied, I just want to sleep with you!’ I was pretty stunned, that was so unexpected! I took her home and we fucked like crazy until dusk. But there was nothing ‘sentimental’ between us, it was merely a mutual appreciation of the great sex we used to have together and the fact that we got along really friendly.

More recently (4 years ago), I used to hire the services of a thirty years old call-girl named N. She was really the girl-next-door type, no cover-girl looks or something. Yet she was quite charming, very well mannered and cool-minded and, in the sack she was awesome…

If I rely on my observations, there are basically 4 types of whores:

- The one who just doesn’t give a shit: the kind of girl who literally objectifies her body; the client pays, she undresses, spreads her legs and then it’s up to the customer to do whatever it takes to ejaculate in the granted time.

- The actress: this one fakes with more or less talent. Her goal is to make the customer believe that he’s the greatest fucker she ever met. Her (very) vocal stimulations can be very efficient.

- The skillful technician: she views lovemaking as a craft and masters all the tricks to get her customer off.

- The horny: this is actually my favorite type of hooker. She loves fucking, and she actually gets off, as opposed to ‘the actress’.

The three last types of course are not mutually exclusive. Anyhow, with experience, it’s not too hard to spot which tendency is dominant for each girl.

N. was clearly the horny type (C. as well but in a milder way). As soon as we got on the bed after both having showered; she started cuddling and lightly stroking my cock. Willing to return the favor, I discovered with delight that her pussy was already dripping wet before I hadn’t even tried anything to make it so. The promise was largely confirmed by the awesome sex we had, several times.
One day, after we had a one-hour session of kamasutra-ish performance, punctuated by her gratifying screams of pleasure and concluded with me exploding in her with a wild moan, she asked ‘Now, don’t I deserve some cuddles?’ Embarrassed, I replied ‘My bad, honey!’ and held her affectionately. She laughed and said ‘Well never mind. That’s just my problem with this job: when I get to have a great fuck like this, I just can’t help falling slightly in love.’

That was the nicest, yet saddest thing a hooker ever told me.

If I were Spitzer…

I would resign as NY Gov., work out a divorce, start an escort-rating webpage and a blog of memoirs, get paid for all that and fuck as many high-end escorts as possible for the rest of my life.

I’m not Spitzer.

That sucks…

Pussy-addict (part 1)

In the title of this weblog, I define myself as a ‘pussy-addict’… Actually I’m even more an orgasm-addict: for all my adult life (and also teenager for that matter) I do believe the number of days that I didn’t have any orgasm does not exceed 10 per year, whether it’s from masturbation or with a partner. I suppose my body badly needs the release of endorphins and whatever other substances it unleashes while cumming.

But let’s come back to the pussy-addict thing after that sperm-smelling tangent. My pussy-addiction has many different forms, from my fondness of pussy showing photographs to a massive delectation to pussy eating. To all my female readers: if we happened to have sexual intercourse (very unlikely, I know!) odds are very high that you would get your genitals tasted. And ‘tasted’ is to be taken at its very basic acceptation: I LOVE pussy taste, I enjoy it like I enjoy a good foie-gras accompanied by a selected vintage of white Bordeaux. Obviously, my partner’s physical enjoyment of the oral feature is a bonus, yet I don’t necessarily aim at it. Of course it also involves a form of mental control (although I don’t like that word, I prefer ‘connection’). Among my favorite memories of sexual moments are those when the lady pushes her cunt hard on my mouth, meeting my hunger, like she was teasing me to literally ‘eat’ her (well, no cannibal fantasy here, we are in a world of symbols!)

Other than that, I also act like a collector; I can’t help adding new pussies on my list. I haven’t kept an exact count but the number of vagina which have welcome my cock must be around 75 (among which a large majority of professionals’). My philosophy about it is that there are about three billion of pussies on this planet, among which, say a good half are technically ‘functional’. To that extent, my exploration of the pussy world is actually ridiculous in proportion.

Here’s a fun project for my female readers: if you are willing to, please send me a photo of your pussy, I will create a page of this blog dedicated to that collection. (Please mail to: dreroguru@yahoo.fr ).

Blowjobs and me

I wasted spent a great deal of time today, surfing from sex-blog to sex-blog, most of them written by ladies (yummy!) and I randomly landed to posts related to BJ’s or even blogs devoted to that valuable activity.

I am sort of ambivalent when it goes about BJ’s, I love being sucked, having a loving (or pretending to be so) mouth wrapped around my cock. It’s the most efficient way to get me aroused.

Yet, I CANNOT orgasm from a BJ! Well, okay, I had cum in some ladies’ mouths but it really seldom happened. Some kind of a mental block maybe. And, no, it’s not about the quality of the BJ’s I received in my horny life; I can tell I have been administered this favor by formidable cock-suckers, some of which I have to praise for their patience, considering it takes a VERY long time to get me off this way.

Actually it makes me a little bit sad

(Not so) Random whore souvenirs

Back to sex-blogging… I used to blog about sex in French-language, it was sort of a delirious-mode blog about sex, it was somehow a successful blog, as far as traffic, but I ended-up disliking it so I stopped months ago (yet it still attracts readers, sex sells, yay!).

I now feel the urge to get back on the job but in English this time, and in a more personal mode.

I learned today that 3^rd of March is the International Sex Worker Rights Day, I guess it’s a good opportunity to open this blog by telling you about my passion for prostitutes. I’m what one could call a ‘whorist’: back 15 years ago, as my first marriage was going down the drain; a friend willing to distract me from my hurt feelings took me to hire a pair of whores. Since then, I never really stopped to go for prostitutes. I just LOVE to fuck with prostitutes. I’m going to tell you why: THEY ARE PROFESSIONAL! They know the tricks (most of them do, anyway…)

There’s another reason: paying for sex is the easiest way to get laid with ultra-hot chicks. The point is that I am not sure I would like to have a super-sexy-top-model-like lady as my wife or regular partner. Thinking that all the guys around are lusting on her would really bother me… My wife is reasonably pretty and sexy but not the cover-girl category; yet, I know some guys are lusting at her too; it’s somehow a disturbing thought…

My last paid-for sexual encounter to date happened back a few weeks ago with a Vietnamese-Thai girl. A REALLY hot one, like 20 years old, beautiful as you could wish, with endless legs and bewitching curves… And a tight pussy! I have to say, tight pussies are overrated, tight pussy plus a more or less squeezing condom is not something quite comfortable. Due to that discomfort, I didn’t eventually cum with that girl. Nevertheless I really enjoyed the time (I think she did too, or she faked it quite well…). It was more about building a visual memory of the act than a quest for orgasm (male-orgasm is overrated too…) I pounded her flexible body in a large variety of poses. I’m having flash-images of that night and they make me hard and wanting to jack-off. If you will excuse me, I need to get relieved of this bulge in my pants…