GoodWill...

When there is a rise, there is a fall, right? That’s how that works? Physics wasn’t always my strongest of the sciences (Physiology) but I did ok in it So, isn’t that how it works? I’m supposed to fall after the rise. Only…I didn’t. At least not at first. I felt…great? Aren't I supposed to feel bad? Shouldn’t I have some sort of post-nut clarity where I realize what I’ve done, what I’ve risked, and immediately regret it all? Eh. But I didn’t feel numb either. I felt alive. Relaxed, happy, and alive. It was an amazing experience, and my body (and mind) were so clearly craving this. So I drove. I went back to work like my world hadn’t just been rocked by this beautiful woman whose services I had paid to receive. I went about my day. I was productive. My head was clear. Even though my thoughts did keep drifting back to those mental pictures. How she looked at me. How wet my cock looked when it was half down her throat. The proud (mouth closed) smile on her face after the fi...

How could I say no? How could I deny myself? She looked so deeply into my eyes when I hesitated. She really was beautiful. Piercing brown eyes. Soulful. Intense. ”Don’t you want…alllll of me?” She repeated. This time stepping back. Well my cock had already been in her mouth. Her fingers teasing my newly oiled ass. I suppose there’s little sense in resisting at this point. I was absolutely on fire with lust. Only…I knew better. I had set limits in my mind before arriving. Having an unprotected blowjob was already crossing one line, and I wasn’t really planning to cross others. So I told her. I wanted her to keep going. She pointed at her mouth and smiled, asking how much I’d give her. I told her what I had. ”More” she said. “And I’ll give you EVERYTHING.” This is all I had. Which was truthful. Thankful. I would have given her literally any amount I had on me if I could have. She gave me other ways to get her money. I held firm - this is all I can do. Negotiating is decidedly not sexy. I...

<record scratch> You’re probably wondering how I got here. Nahhh, I know you’ve been reading. You know exactly how this seemingly vanilla, innocent, by all previous accounts faithful man ended up in this house of ill repute. I mean, how I ended up getting more than I bargained for from this very legitimate, illegitimate massage spa. Let’s dive back in, shall we? When last we blogged, I had gotten a slap on the ass and had been told to undress. Being the obedient man I am, I shed my clothes with enthusiasm. Leaving things nicely folded on the chair, but oh with easy access to my pocket where I had some extra cash stored. You know, in case I needed…anything. Like a soft drink. Or a handjob. A man likes to be prepared, you know. So I take my place on the massage table. They leave a small towel, ostensibly to cover yourself with, so I do that. I lay on my stomach, my face in the little hole, and I *barely* cover myself. I know the cover doesn’t last long here, but hey, I’ll play alon...

I swear I wasn’t expecting it. It doesn’t lessen the sin, of course. Maybe it makes me feel a little less guilty when I say that. To you. To myself. Would I bother saying it if anyone else ever found out? “Well, I wasn’t going to, but once it happened I froze and couldn’t say no! Who could blame me!?” Or would I just own it, and accept the full weight of my responsibility? Not entirely too long after my first happy ending, I was (unsurprisingly) craving it again. I love being touched. I love massage. My body craves it. Like so many other things, it’s mostly something I deny myself. Oh, and I really like orgasms I definitely do not experience as many as I’d like So yes. Cravings. There I was, with more than enough cash in my pocket, and an unexpectedly wide open morning schedule. Picture the overly memed gif of beads of sweat as I overthink this. I did a little research online, and I thought to myself - hey, let’s try a new place. You know, if I go back to the same place again, t...

“Can I massage here, too?” The massage to that point had been fantastic. Aside from the fact that there had been no cover, no drape to protect the modesty of my naked body, it was like any professional massage Then the question was asked. She pointed at my cock, smiled mischievously, and asked simply… ”…here, too?” Oh yes please. She smiled. She asked for a tip. She asked for more than I had. I didn’t love negotiating, as I hadn’t fully intended on anything specific. I wasn’t trying to haggle or devalue her. It was an honest discussion. Only the entire time, she was running her hands over my midsection, lightly grazing my hardening erection, which was laid bare for each of us to see. There would be no hiding that I wanted this. There would be no denying that she was effective. So I told her what I had, what I could pay. She smiled. She said, “I’ll take care of you. Next time you bring more, and I take this off too” as she tugged at her dress. Oh my. Before I knew it, she wa...

Well, I was feeling pretty good about my prose after the last one. It’s been so long since I’ve written anything that wasn’t a professional article or tweet/skeet. I was rusty! BUT. I felt like a was able to tell a story, tell you what I wanted you to know about myself, set the stage for the next parts of the story, and end with a tantalizing teaser. Then, hoisted by my own petard. Deleted. Lost forever. I’m honestly not sure I can tell it again as well as I did the first time. (For all you know, it was Pulitzer Prize winning prose. So let’s just assume) So here we are - I want you to know certain things before I tell the next part, but I don’t want to poorly rewrite the amazing text that I accidentally threw into the fire. What you need to know: Love massage, have been going infrequently since I was a teenager. NEVER had it been sexual. Found myself out of town in an “Asian massage parlor” and had the BEST massage of my life (still non-sexual) Sought out another parlor closer...

I did NOT mean to delete that post. Moron.