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Confessions of someone who should know better
Confessions of someone who should know better Something sort of happens when you're around 50. It's not just me - I have spoken to others about it - but I suppose it is says a lot about where I'm at. Life is just a one off. And sometimes you can watch it passing you , and others, rather than spectate, you can make things happen. Well, lockdowns and sexual frustration have led me to taking a few risks in recent year. The results have been patchy at best, and frankly not worth the neural energy that went into making them happen. It wasn't all bad though. I met P about two and half years ago. I found her online, and managed to get her attention, and let's face it, that's how it works online. Sexually frustrated men are ten a penny, but the women in a place like this that are real can to pick and choose. I managed to make P choose me. She came here, disappeared off and put on a leather skirt and other wonderfully exciting things, instructed me to strip - even shuddered a little when I did (and let me tell you, I am not especially shudderworthy, so I really liked that) and then put me in handcuffs and went to town on me. Whips, belts, pliers, clamps etc. I would have 42 separate bruises the next day. She loved to watch me moan and express pain - I can remember her eyes on me, enjoying every moment of it. It was really primal. It finished with me licking her to a big orgasm and then a strangely affectionate cuddle and chat. It was marvellous. About a month later, we did it again at her place, but the spark had gone straight away, it felt to me. We chatted a bit afterwards but it petered out. It broke my cherry in all this. You can meet people, apparently... |
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