Wednesday, August 1, 2007

Further Adventures in Tourism

Part One is here.

Tourist takes me to a restaurant so yummy I take Lover there a week later. Mediterranean, a little pile of something to dip bread in that is neither hummus nor butter but tastes like the good parts of both. I have caprese salad with fresh, soft mozzarella that has a tang to it beyond balsamic, and a pasta dish with mushrooms and cream sauce. He has shrimp cakes, like crab cakes and with a spicy remoulade. I am reminded of my old dating policy: if you have bread and salad and dessert then you can take your entrée home and it’s two dinners, and you don’t have to make conversation for the second one.

I slip my foot from my shoe and press it into his lap, ignoring it while he gives my order to the waitress. I tease him under the table while we talk about my work and his work, my life and his life. He is interested, if not all that interesting. Midway through the meal, I excuse myself and visit the ladies, walking slowly and perhaps a little oddly while trying not to stagger out of my shoes. The ladies is out the back door, through a hallway, into another part of the building, enough distance to call Lover and check in with Tourist's name and my hotel information. I take off my panties, rub them on myself for scent, and bring them back to the table, balled in my hand. I had already planned to do this when Tourist asked me to – I’d rather just do it than be asked, it’s more fun to surprise and honestly, I need to be the one in control here.

Back in the car, he presses my panties to his face while I lean over, unzip his pants, pull out his cock and flick my tongue over and around, teasing as much as I can while avoiding drops of liquid. “Don’t come” I whisper in his ear, and with my hand wrapped tight around the shaft of his cock, he shakes again, his whole body gripped by spasms even without the telltale pulsing in the base of his penis.

We return to the hotel, I let him into my suite. In the living room, we sit in soft chairs facing each other, and again he licks my leg propped up on his shoulder, licks my shoes. It was a hot day, but not enough that I’m worried about sweat, and he removes my right shoe and stocking, and begins to suck my toes. This is always an odd feeling for me. I’m nervous about smell, it tickles rather than arousing, and I think it looks funny. But he’s paying, so I’m into it. In fact, the casual observer might note that apparently, nothing pleases me more than to recline in a chair with my legs in the air and watch my toes disappear between his lips. Fortunately, he does this with his eyes closed, because I’m not quite a good enough actress to contain my shock when he takes all five toes into his mouth. I’m not a huge-footed girl by any means, but they aren’t flitty pixie feet, either, and the sight of his mouth around a largish third of my foot is a little freaky. This goes on for nearly an hour, and I realize, what you’re buying is often my boredom. Yes, sometimes whoring is fun and sometimes it’s good dirty and sometimes it’s awful dirty, but mostly what it is is boring. And if we were to take a forty-hour workweek’s worth of intermittent boredom and cram it into one six-hour spell, this would be it. I bet my therapist feels this way.

I spend my time reminding myself of his fantasies in emails and phone calls and plot my next move. When, evidently, all possible enjoyment has been sucked from my toes, I remove my other stocking and tie his wrists to the table behind his chair. I pull out the new toys I’ve acquired, which I’m genuinely curious about, and spend the next hour masturbating in front of him, skirt hiked up, no panties, blouse open to my white lacy corselet. The toys are fun, but sadly, not good enough to make me actually come. I fake it two or three times, and it starts to become genuinely frustrating not to be able to come. On the up side, if we do fuck, at least I’ll want to.

I release his wrists and he kneels before my chair and licks my pussy. He’s decently good at it, at least it’s not irritating or painful, and remembering his fantasy to make a girl come over and over while eating her pussy, I do the best I can to make his dreams reality. Or at least, a purchased facsimile thereof.

More tomorrow…

5 comments:

unbridledesires said...

It is so 'upsetting' to read;

"The toys are fun, but sadly, not good enough to make me actually come. I fake it two or three times, and it starts to become genuinely frustrating not to be able to come."

I enjoy nothing more than watching a woman cum, and it is such a turn on knowing that she is cumming for me, enjoying it as much as I am. A woman is most beautiful at that most vulnerable moment - when she completely and unconditionally lets herself go.

I hope the urge to cum overcame your boredom, and you fucked until you came without faking it.

dexplorer said...

Mandy said--

And if we were to take a forty-hour workweek’s worth of intermittent boredom and cram it into one six-hour spell, this would be it. I bet my therapist feels this way.

Yeah. And how.

I spent a few hours a week during about half of my sophomore year at Stanford doing peer psych counseling at a student drop in and call in center. I was premed with the thought of becoming a shrink (wasn’t attracted to other types of medicine). With rare, really rare, exceptions it was so excruciatingly boring (and frustrating – I kept wanting to say things like, well then why don’t you do x, y and z already, but we’d been trained not to), that I dropped the whole pre-med shrink thing entirely.

So you actually have a therapist, hugh? That surprises me a bit.

dexplorer said...

I was pretty sure that you wouldn't keep Lover kicked to the curb for too long.

Too much good history there, and too much of the quality rough, D/s type of sex, that you sometimes (or often) crave for that.

Despite his effrontery in getting his own official significant other, even though he occasionally treated to you on the sneak tip.

Mandy said...

Unbridled - Wait and see :)

One of the challenges of whoring is that several of the things men like a lot - especially giving oral - do not make me come under any but the most unusual circumstances. I have received fabulous oral on many occasions in my personal life. It has led to orgasm twice. And it's not their tongue that's really doing it - it's me pressing and rubbing a la cowgirl that makes it happen.

Dexplorer - Wow! I always wondered about that! Most people's problems seem to be about the same, with solutions they don't take action on because the problem serves some function in their life they can't imagine not having. I include myself in that :) So I wondered if it would be...Yes, I have been in and out of therapy for many years. It's an amazing luxury to have someone whose job is to listen to you. I'm not in therapy right this minute because I don't really want to change. But I suspect I'll go back at some point.

Dex again - Wait and see :)

la fille mariée said...

I hadn't considered the boredom aspect. That's so... well... interesting.

Now, feet... I would definitely be into that, however many toes he wanted in his mouth. I don't really have a foot fetish about other people's feet, but I love having mine played with.