Thursday, 13 May 2010
Guys and Guess Work
The first time I meet a client is always the most exciting. Some guys are very open in their desires re roleplay for example and email me prior to our date with a list of things they'd like to try. In some ways I feel like an extra on Eastenders re-reading and checking the script just before they arrive, to make sure I remember everything. ( Inevitably I never do, anyway. )A step up from the Eastender is the "hinter". He will email requesting a perfectly vanilla appointment and then mention at the end that he has been a "naughty boy". To me, that's an indication that he would like some form of discipline, but it's left to me to determine what that might be.
To do this I rely on a couple of things, body language being the main indicator. So, if in the course of foreplay he pays a large amount of attention to my nipples then the chances are that's what he enjoys himself. Solution ; apply gentle pressure to nipples and keep going until said client squeaks.
For the record, I really, REALLY prefer if someone tells me their "thing".
Most challenging of all I think is the silent man. That man who books for an hour, enters the room with a polite nod and just lies on the bed.
"Tell me what turns you on, what makes you squirm."
"Anything, anything at all."
See now, that really doesn't help. Because with the services I offer that could be anything from ball crushing to a naked picnic. A little help here ?
A while ago I had a gent come and see me for an hour. He was lovely in email, and when he came to my apartment he was very pleasant, if a little quiet. I offered him a drink which he gratefully accepted. After that he stripped off to his y-fronts and then lay like a petrified piece of wood on the bed, flat on his back and staring at the ceiling.
Erm, that's my stereotype, is it not ?
So I asked him -
"Would you like a nice massage to begin with ?"
"No thank you."
I leapt upon him and gently kissed him, he made a paltry effort at pursing his lips.
So I lay beside him and cuddled into him, allowing my fingers to gently trace his gradually increasing swelling. Nothing.
I mean the swelling increased, but there it ended. No reaction whatsoever.
Hmmmm. I was going to have to up my game.
So I covered him in massage oil and began sliding up and down, body to body. I might as well have been studying the train timetable for the Paddington Express. Nowt.
I was truly lost for actions, nevermind words. In the end, following further cuddling and some dry action against the side of my leg, he found the golden fleece.
I guess I wrote than one off to a lack of chemistry and just accepted that maybe I was not what he was looking for.
Three weeks later, I had an email.
"Dear Laura, I thoroughly enjoyed our last meeting and should like to see you again this coming Tuesday should you be free."
Further proof, as if it were required, that for as long as I do this job, I will never truly understand men.