After my marriage broke up, one of the unexpected challenges has been what to do when I am horny.
Sex used to be on tap with my ex-wife and now nothing
Filling the void since the break up has been similar to a merry go round of frustration. Your appetite for sex doesn't suddenly end with the relationship but your means to quench it becomes a virtual minefield.
Masturbation is always fun, but the Climax frustrates more than satisfying by fuelling your hunger for real sex more. It is easy to have a casual fling or procure a 'friends with benefits' arrangement, but experience tells you they always end up getting complicated, stressful and ultimately leading to hurt.
Friday night things came to a head with me deciding to visit a Melbourne brothel and booking a prostitute.
On arriving you sit in a lounge with girls introducing themselves and chatting with you as they tempt you. Telling you what they can offer and allowing you to ask if they will cater for any, or all of your desires.
Eventually deciding on the woman I wanted and paying my fee, $700 for three hours. Being lead up to a lavish room where the woman requested I strip and present my penis to her for her to check for any possible signs of STD's. After doing this, she asked me to shower with her leaving the room for a few minutes while I did so.
The shower was brief, with me sitting naked on the bed waiting for her to reappear. It had seemed an eternity before she did, and for the first time in my life, I was nervous about sex, anxious in the extreme. As she re-entered, she stood before me starting to strip.
A cocktail of surreal irony began biting hard at this point.
With me craving an impersonal carefree sexual romp on my terms, but failing to deal with this during the experience. I knew I could have her in any way, but there were limits on touching or feeling, and strictly no kissing.
It killed the instinctual joy that goes hand in hand with sex and made the experience feel staged. Driving the feeling home as she wrapped my penis in a condom while giving me oral and reaching liberally for lube before intercourse.
After the experience, my feelings were polarised. I felt no guilt, seeing regulated prostitution as a legitimate profession that women choose to be part of and are liberally rewarded. The almost perverse aside was my take on the equality stance, often scorned upon at the mere mention of prostitution.
Rather than feeling I was slighting her standing as an equal. My overriding feeling was I was diminishing mine while accentuating hers by choosing to pay her for sex. There was no feeling of treating the woman as a sexual object, rather feeling objectified as a $$$ sign.
Allowing her ownership of me on her terms.
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