MaybeMaybeNot

Neither of my parents were physically affectionate once I reached 6 or so,  that I remember. (My dad was never affectionate to me in my early memories.) By the time I had my first sexual experience at 32, my skin was aching to be touched. I remember laying in bed at nights thinking my skin would break if anyone ever actually touched me. 
My dad would every once in a while be affectionate, like in church when he felt like pretending to be a good dad.  I hated that.  We didn't have a good relationship,  and it felt like I was part of a show.  Looking back,  the location might have been a reminder to him,  not actually a show.
My mother was half Italian and not physically affectionate.  In my younger years before she had a radical religious encounter,  she had a hot temper and would fly off the handle (never at me). But I always knew she loved us.  She showed it every day in many ways, from feeding us, reading to us, doing nice things with us,  spending time with us.  
My sister, however,  had an opposite experience and felt loved by my dad more. Looking back,  my sister must have had some undiagnosed mental health issues, which were exacerbated by my mom's ignorance in parenting and her desire to correct her own faults in her daughter. 
As I got older,  I realized my dad wasn't malicious (to clarify,  although he grew up severely abused, he never laid a hand on his own kids,  which says a lot about him). He was severely depressed in the era before medications,  not very smart,  and extraordinarily lazy. He worked long hours to supply our needs. He loved us very much, just didn't know how (or want to put much effort) into showing us. He came home at night and vegged out on TV. 
I loved my mom very much.  We were very close to her last day,  and I miss her terribly. I became very close to my dad in his final 10 months,  as my sister and brother basically disappeared once he went on hospice (in the last few months,  I made them become involved because I knew I couldn't do it alone and he needed us there). My dad was the type to be cocky, to brag about his kids because it made him look good. Once he got the hospice talk from the doctor,  it was very healing for him to acknowledge to me that he was a terrible father.  I needed to hear that.  He also explained that he did more with my siblings just because they had more in common,  which I already knew.  It helped heal that relationship before he died.  

Neither of my parents were physically affectionate once I reached 6 or so,  that I remember. (My dad was never affectionate to me in my early memories.) By the time I had my first sexual experience at 32, my skin was aching to be touched. I remember laying in bed at nights thinking my skin would break if anyone ever actually touched me. 
My dad would every once in a while be affectionate, like in church when he felt like pretending to be a good dad.  I hated that.  We didn't have a good relationship,  and it felt like I was part of a show.  Looking back,  the location might have been a reminder to him,  not actually a show.
My mother was half Italian and not physically affectionate.  In my younger years before she had a radical religious encounter,  she had a hot temper and would fly off the handle (never at me). But I always knew she loved us.  She showed it every day in many ways, from feeding us, reading to us, doing nice things with us,  spending time with us.  
My sister, however,  had an opposite experience and felt loved by my dad more. Looking back,  my sister must have had some undiagnosed mental health issues, which were exacerbated by my mom's ignorance in parenting and her desire to correct her own faults in her daughter. 
As I got older,  I realized my dad wasn't malicious (to clarify,  although he grew up severely abused, he never laid a hand on his own kids,  which says a lot about him). He was severely depressed in the era before medications,  not very smart,  and extraordinarily lazy. He worked long hours to supply our needs. He loved us very much, just didn't know how (or want to put much effort) into showing us. He came home at night and vegged out on TV. 
I loved my mom very much.  We were very close to her last day,  and I miss her terribly. I became very close to my dad in his final 10 months,  as my sister and brother basically disappeared once he went on hospice (in the last few months,  I made them become involved because I knew I couldn't do it alone and he needed us there). My dad was the type to be cocky, to brag about his kids because it made him look good. Once he got the hospice talk from the doctor,  it was very healing for him to acknowledge to me that he was a terrible father.  I needed to hear that.  He also explained that he did more with my siblings just because they had more in common,  which I already knew.  It helped heal that relationship before he died.  

Neither of my parents were physically affectionate once I reached 6 or so,  that I remember. (My dad was never affectionate to me in my early memories.) By the time I had my first sexual experience at 32, my skin was aching to be touched. I remember laying in bed at nights thinking my skin would break if anyone ever actually touched me. 
My dad would every once in a while be affectionate, like in church when he felt like pretending to be a good dad.  I hated that.  We didn't have a good relationship,  and it felt like I was part of a show.  Looking back,  the location might have been a reminder to him,  not actually a show.
My mother was half Italian and not physically affectionate.  In my younger years before she had a radical religious encounter,  she had a hot temper and would fly off the handle (never at me). But I always knew she loved us.  She showed it every day in many ways, from feeding us, reading to us, doing nice things with us,  spending time with us.  
My sister, however,  had an opposite experience and felt loved by my dad more. Looking back,  my sister must have had some undiagnosed mental health issues, which were exacerbated by my mom's ignorance in parenting and her desire to correct her own faults in her daughter. 
As I got older,  I realized my dad wasn't malicious (to clarify,  although he grew up severely abused, he never laid a hand on his own kids,  which says a lot about him). He was severely depressed in the era before medications,  not very smart,  and extraordinarily lazy. He worked long hours to supply our needs. He loved us very much, just didn't know how (or want to put much effort) into showing us. He came home at night and vegged out on TV. 
I loved my mom very much.  We were very close to her last day,  and I miss her terribly. I became very close to my dad in his final 10 months,  as my sister and brother basically disappeared once he went on hospice (in the last few months,  I made them become involved because I knew I couldn't do it alone and he needed us there). My dad was the type to be cocky, to brag about his kids because it made him look good. Once he got the hospice talk from the doctor,  it was very healing for him to acknowledge to me that he was a terrible father.  I needed to hear that.  He also explained that he did more with my siblings just because they had more in common,  which I already knew.  It helped heal that relationship before he died.  

Neither of my parents were physically affectionate once I reached 6 or so,  that I remember. (My dad was never affectionate to me in my early memories.) By the time I had my first sexual experience at 32, my skin was aching to be touched. I remember laying in bed at nights thinking my skin would break if anyone ever actually touched me. 
My dad would every once in a while be affectionate, like in church when he felt like pretending to be a good dad.  I hated that.  We didn't have a good relationship,  and it felt like I was part of a show.  Looking back,  the location might have been a reminder to him,  not actually a show.
My mother was half Italian and not physically affectionate.  In my younger years before she had a radical religious encounter,  she had a hot temper and would fly off the handle (never at me). But I always knew she loved us.  She showed it every day in many ways, from feeding us, reading to us, doing nice things with us,  spending time with us.  
My sister, however,  had an opposite experience and felt loved by my dad more. Looking back,  my sister must have had some undiagnosed mental health issues, which were exacerbated by my mom's ignorance in parenting and her desire to correct her own faults in her daughter. 
As I got older,  I realized my dad wasn't malicious (to clarify,  although he grew up severely abused, he never laid a hand on his own kids,  which says a lot about him). He was severely depressed in the era before medications,  not very smart,  and extraordinarily lazy. He worked long hours to supply our needs. He loved us very much, just didn't know how (or want to put much effort) into showing us. He came home at night and vegged out on TV. 
I loved my mom very much.  We were very close to her last day,  and I miss her terribly. I became very close to my dad in his final 10 months,  as my sister and brother basically disappeared once he went on hospice (in the last few months,  I made them become involved because I knew I couldn't do it alone and he needed us there). My dad was the type to be cocky, to brag about his kids because it made him look good. Once he got the hospice talk from the doctor,  it was very healing for him to acknowledge to me that he was a terrible father.  I needed to hear that.  He also explained that he did more with my siblings just because they had more in common,  which I already knew.  It helped heal that relationship before he died.  

Neither of my parents were physically affectionate once I reached 6 or so,  that I remember. (My dad was never affectionate to me in my early memories.) By the time I had my first sexual experience at 32, my skin was aching to be touched. I remember laying in bed at nights thinking my skin would break if anyone ever actually touched me. 
My dad would every once in a while be affectionate, like in church when he felt like pretending to be a good dad.  I hated that.  We didn't have a good relationship,  and it felt like I was part of a show.  Looking back,  the location might have been a reminder to him,  not actually a show.
My mother was half Italian and not physically affectionate.  In my younger years before she had a radical religious encounter,  she had a hot temper and would fly off the handle (never at me). But I always knew she loved us.  She showed it every day in many ways, from feeding us, reading to us, doing nice things with us,  spending time with us.  
My sister, however,  had an opposite experience and felt loved by my dad more. Looking back,  my sister must have had some undiagnosed mental health issues, which were exacerbated by my mom's ignorance in parenting and her desire to correct her own faults in her daughter. 
As I got older,  I realized my dad wasn't malicious (to clarify,  although he grew up severely abused, he never laid a hand on his own kids,  which says a lot about him). He was severely depressed in the era before medications,  not very smart,  and extraordinarily lazy. He worked long hours to supply our needs. He loved us very much, just didn't know how (or want to put much effort) into showing us. He came home at night and vegged out on TV. 
I loved my mom very much.  We were very close to her last day,  and I miss her terribly. I became very close to my dad in his final 10 months,  as my sister and brother basically disappeared once he went on hospice (in the last few months,  I made them become involved because I knew I couldn't do it alone and he needed us there). My dad was the type to be cocky, to brag about his kids because it made him look good. Once he got the hospice talk from the doctor,  it was very healing for him to acknowledge to me that he was a terrible father.  I needed to hear that.  He also explained that he did more with my siblings just because they had more in common,  which I already knew.  It helped heal that relationship before he died.  

My childhood was a matter of combat survival dodging dishes my mother constantly threw at my father when we were all together at dinner time. My dog made out well. They both worked, he days and she evenings. I learned to avoid the few times they were in a room together or at least look over my shoulder for the closest exit. They did sleep together though and my father usually walked around the house either nude or in boxers (it was hot), usually laughing at my mother's temper. In hindsight I think she was jealous of women he knew at work. 
When he was 47 and I was 17 he died suddenly after a week in a coma. My mother collapsed uncontrollably and really could not stand or stop crying for well over a week. We all worried she would never recover but after a year I got her enrolled in some community college crafts classes. Her biggest concern was always that in the coma he didn't hear her tell him how much she loved him and she was crying and repeating that the day she died at 95, fifty years later. 
My mom threw a  whole lot of dishes to show affection.  
 

Had taken a partial break from Escort duties and my RM ad (and new clients) over the last 2 months to get moved into my new home and do some major landscaping work, which is a big interest of mine.  Took a week off from my office as well. Several members ask if I would post a photo.  Back to regular work next week.

I’ve done foursomes for clients. All three of us providers are very professional and understand that it’s not paid playtime for us, although the client gets off on watching us perform live for him. It helps that none of us are in a relationship with one another. It keeps business strictly business.
We make the client the focus. We all grope him from three sides like a big group hug, and kiss, stroke, lick, and stimulate his whole body, frequently switching positions, roles, and activities. We involve all of us in any given moment, and of course the client is in the middle of all the action and calling all the shots when he feels like calling them. The rest is intuition and knowing what the client likes doing and being done to him and what he likes to see others doing, and we all lean into those things.
Another plus is taking advantage of all our individual strengths and talents and combining them. Yes, we may look a bit different from one another, one older, one younger, and me in the middle, but the beauty of it is diversity. The client gets off on the whole buffet, not just favoring and being distracted by the “hottest”, or youngest, or most hung, etc. The result feels more like 1+1+1 = 6. You could hire us all individually and enjoy all of the separate meetings (and this particular client has), but together it’s a massive, explosive experience. Worth trying at least once in your life.
Meetings like this I consider successful. If you’ve ever wanted multiple providers before but have concerns like those already mentioned in this thread, the key is to hire the right providers.  Professional men who ‘get it’, and ideally know one another, get along well, and have worked together before in a similar capacity. If they don’t know one another prior, they should at least have experience with similar arrangements.
When the client is spent (after a very long time of buildup), he likes to watch us continue and will still touch us and find pleasure in what we’re doing. It’s 100% about the client’s pleasure. The second he shows any wavering of interest we either stop or change to a different activity.
We providers can hook up with one another on our own time, if we wanted to, although we don’t. It’s not about us feeling good or getting off. It’s about client satisfaction. For us, it’s business. We’re really good at our jobs and we want to get paid fairly for doing it. And we do. Win-win-win-win!
I play well with others. As it goes, I tend to be the ‘madam’, organizing these types of meets. To be clear, this isn’t trafficking. It’s independent guys choosing freely to work together for an agreed-upon fee. Basically informally arranged contract work.
If booking multiple providers interests you, I highly recommend booking these things with at least a few days notice, or more if possible. Getting schedules to align and coordinating things takes time. Sometimes it all works out with little notice. More often, it’s not possible to arrange something on short notice.
If you’re in my area or if I am traveling to yours, hire me! If I haven’t worked with someone before, I am willing to arrange a consultation with the other guy(s) you want, to see if it would be a good match and go from there.

Tuck it in your sock.

I had one this summer that I'm praying to any deity or spiritual entity listening, that it won't be just that one time!!   (Admittedly the initial intro/connection was through SA) yet all we did was chit-chat about generic stuff without any specifics related to SA type situations. So not sure if this counts as a hook-up?
He's finishing College far away this year but grew up ~hour away and we randomly discovered we were close by each other one random evening.
He was out with a "girlfriend"( legit long-legged hot model beach blonde) though insisted I meet them out with the flimsyiest of cover stories i'd ever heard of.
He's literally the prototypical great looking 21/22 year old uber athlete hot jock college frat bro.  Early on after meeting, when we had a brief private moment he tells me he want's to fool around.
I'm so skeptical to the point that i literally laughed out loud.
We all legit have a blast time out at dinner and bar hopping but the entire time I'm thinking i get it, they'll just fleece me for dinner and drinks and ditch me later. That's the hustle. So I'm going with the flow but totally resigned to that fate.
We do all end up organically splitting up in the mayhem of bar hopping.
As Bar's are closing I run into him. Says he's annoyed that hours earlier I didn't take him seriously about hooking up.
I'm literall confused af.
Then i think oh i get it, i busted him as he thought i had already left and he needs to update his "ditching" excuse.
Turns out after more drunken clumsy misunderstandings we end up in my bed blissfully fooling around the rest of the night way past sunrise. In fact he introduced me to awesome things I've never done prior or after.
Next morning as he's leaving I awkwardly have to brooch the subject that since we met over SA yet never discussed anything specific what were his expectations?
He looks at me and says, "what are you talking about?" 
I'm like wtf!!
Given being on summer break from school and college student I did feel completely obligated yet happy to donate for his books. He never looks at what i gave him and asks me repeatedly am I sure and he didn't expect anything and am i ok with it.
He never once looks at what i gave him and as he's leaving he never looks back but says "That was great, i had a blast, text me sometime" and 2 weeks later goes back to school for Senior year.
I'm way more excited for him to graduate college than i was for myself 3 to 4 decades ago! 

Just to let all you guys know.Buffdaddy found Troy. We call him Dallas. He works with me as well. I also found Jake, and others. Troy will be with me tomorrow night in Philadelphia. I don't work but one day a week now. I found a way to work smarter not harder in my old age. You guys can see Troy and many others at
www.slowteasinghandjobs.com

Troy is not only handsome and well-built, but also someone who has made a conscious decision to go against the current trend by not desecrating his body with vile, ugly tattoos that so many other models seem to think are attractive.
Wish there more more like him......
BoZo

My husband and I were walking home after the clubs one night, and decided to walk past an area guys were known to cruise; we were in our late 20's/early 30's then.  A very cute muscular guy walked past us and into an alleyway giving us "the look".  "Tony" (his real name) was a muscular, compact, italian-american god.  We followed him into the alley started making out.  After a few minutes pulled his cock out of his pants, this boy was hung 10", his cock had a beautiful slight upward curve to it....and he had HUGE balls: I'm talking legit XL egg-sized balls.  After a few minutes of play others were trying to get into our tryst; we wanted Tony all to us so we decided to head back to our apartment a few blocks away.  Tony it turns out is quite piggy in the bedroom, and despite his huge fuck tool was ALL BOTTOM.  We played for probably 2+ hours, in every possible position.....especially ones where we could suck on his huge cock and balls.  He was insatiable.  That was 30 years ago, and there has not been one as good since.  We saw him once or twice after that, and each time was just as hot.  Even now, from time to time, one of us will say "remember Tony" and roll our eyes back into our head.....as if....Tony was the pinnacle.

Back when I lived in a part of the country where GPs do outlandish things during physicals like check your reflexes, hernias, and testicular cancer, I did look forward to dropping my pants. Not for any sexual reason; I think it just felt nice to have a moment of non-sexual nudity. I never got hard. I had an incredible doctor there.  One time, he knelt down to check me out, then had me drop my pants, then asked me a question about something I was working on.  It took me a minute to answer before he did anything down there.  It was interesting that he did that.  It was just such not a big deal to him.  He had done medical practice for the military,  so I am sure he saw plenty of dicks on bodies much better than mine.  But he was straight,  so I am sure he didn't care. 

Coach has a pretty hot ass as well!  Woof!

I have a pedicure every 5-6 weeks with Ivy, a lovely woman, who’s been my “go to” person for several years. But at today’s appointment, Ivy had taken ill, so “Ben” was her replacement. Oh, my. Ben is of Pacific Islander lineage and extremely handsome, mid-20s I would guess. His t-shirt covered an obviously well-developed physique and I was immediately in lust. So much so, that within a few minutes, old one-eye woke up which caused me to have to shift a bit in the chair. My running shorts were easy enough to adjust, but squirming back and forth caused Ben to ask if I was okay. Oh, Ben, if you only knew. So I tried to think of baseball, or my grandma’s recent funeral, hell, anything to make “it” retreat. One-eye did manage to descend a bit, but when Ben started massaging my calves, guess who woke up? So, gentlemen, have you had any surprising and/or unwanted arousals in public lately that were challenging to hide? 

I got off the subway two stops too early en route to an appointment.
i got to his place 10 minutes late, and he clearly saw that I huffed to his apartment.
He had me sit, gave me a bottle of iced tea to help calm me down, and gave me my very first foot worship session. I had no idea I would love it so much.

If you welcome all body types and ages would be good to know.  

If you welcome all body types and ages would be good to know.  

If you welcome all body types and ages would be good to know.  

If you welcome all body types and ages would be good to know.  

Tuck it in your sock.

Oral sandwich, so that is what my dream position is called.  Fun site!

Oral sandwich, so that is what my dream position is called.  Fun site!