Putting OUT vs. Putting It DOWN

Ever heard that expression “You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar”? No? Well allow me to introduce you. Often times, thankfully so, I meet men who know exactly how to act like gentlemen. That’s not to say that they drink their tea with their pinkies sticking out, but they do understand that there is a certain way to handle oneself around a lady. Regardless of whether my company is a civilian or a client, I still look for and expect to be treated a certain way. The smart ones know without being told that you get what you pay for. When you treat a woman with sweet attentiveness, there is certainly a difference in your reception. Enthusiasm is always returned, and a situation always becomes the experience you make of it.

I recently semi-retired, choosing to see only clients that I’ve had an extended liaison with, rather than accepting new clients and all that comes with that. Before cutting things off completely, I decided to schedule some of the last few new friends I’d received requests from. One gentleman in particular (we’ll call him Ted) had made a request three different times, but our schedules just never seemed to jive. I alerted Ted that I would no longer accept invitations from new acquaintances after a certain date, and he immediately scheduled a meeting for the next evening. It was a weekday, meaning I’d have been slaving away at the RL office all day, but that had never stopped me from providing a most fulfilling experience before. I would have plenty of time for the rituals I enjoy so much after work (you know, the primping, the long bubble bath, the makeup, and of course….the discreet lingerie under my clothes).

The next day, I prepped myself for an evening of the intimate entertainment, and headed out full of my usual excitement. Ted was 20 minutes late and arrived with a half smile and a few sincere, though unenthused, compliments. I asked if everything was ok, and he replied that it was great, he was just distracted by a less than stellar day. Really dude? What ever happened to leaving your life at the door? Why would you bring that negativity in here and wreck the flow I worked so hard to provide for you?

I took his suit jacket, and offered him a drink. He took it, gulped it down, and sat on the edge of the bed. Reaching out for me, started stroking my inner thigh, and pulled me close. We kissed a bit and he immediately started in on removing my clothes. Now, those who’ve enjoyed time with me know well that I prefer to start every session with a sensual (and often times reciprocal) massage. I always bring along a kit filled with unscented oils and massage cremes, using them to familiarize myself with the body before me. I enjoy treating a man like he’s something to be savored, and a sensual, slow massage, peppered with a bit of “getting to know you convo” is a great way to get started. Ted, however, never gave me the chance to learn him.

Before long, he’d moved on to…doing the deed, as it were, without any of the usual ceremony. No chit chat. No appreciation of the surroundings (candles, wine, music… all that). And no gentle coaxing. Once he got himself going, I noticed he started to say something I couldn’t make out. As he began to…ahem…”work harder”…he started to repeat the same phrase: “Come on baby…give me something to work with. Show me you like it.” Um…say what? Show you that I like what, exactly? The impersonal way you got things started? Your lack of interest in me? The “wham-bam” way that you took what you wanted without engaging me at all? Ooooh yeah, I like it alright. I like it about as much as I like mopping my kitchen floor.

I have to admit, this is the first time I’ve ever had a session where I couldn’t get into anything that was going on. At all. Ever. I have never faked an orgasm, and I’m certainly not about to start that now. There’s just nothing more tacky. So what am I to do in a situation like this? I’ll tell you. I laid there, gazing up at Ted working himself into a lather, and simply let him. The less I said, the more he yelled. I listened to him rile himself up by telling me how he wanted me to like it, and wondered. What was it that he thought I might like? Was he serious? Did he really think that pounding out a few minutes of hanky panky with no warning or warm up was going to have me drooling over his prowess? Yes. That must have been exactly what he must have been thinking. I can’t really know for sure because I never took the time to ask him.

Once he…uh…finished, he stood up, got cleaned up, and then offered to pour me another drink. When I refused, he looked at me quizzically, but helped himself. As he finished his drink, he watched me lying in bed and looked proud. Satisfied. Satiated. It was amazing. And then, for the first time ever in my career, I got up and dressed before my client after an incall appointment. It was crazy. It was my suite…where did I have to go? I pulled my hair into a high ponytail, slid my skirt and blouse on in a couple of sleek movements, and stepped into my red stilettos. Ted took my cue and dressed himself while I brushed my teeth.

Once we were both ready to meet the world again, he asked which one of us should leave first. Ha! Really? We said our goodbyes and he thanked me for accommodating his last minute request. As Ted spoke, I could see that he had no idea that the reception he received was directly proportionate to the effort he put into our connection. Hell, he didn’t even realise that there was no connection! I’m told by other ladies that this happens regularly. Seriously? Well not with me. I’m not about just putting out and having someone get what they want and go. I’m about putting it down! I want to leave a session feeling like I’m bow legged! I should still feel him hours later…not sit there wondering whether it was worth the wax, ya know? This was a night a firsts, in that it was also the first time I’ve ever left a session feeling like I didn’t give it what I had. I’m sure his comments were indicative of that, but come on. You gotta give me something to work with buddy.

His review of our time was nice. He claimed to have really enjoyed our tryst. But for me, it definitely left something to be desired. Namely…the desire!