Friday Fairy boy weighed in at 135lbs. That’s 10lbs less than me. Hairless, smooth body like a 17 year old young man. Gay men call this kind of guy a “twink.” Twinks are a well understood fetish type celebrating the innocence in manhood, adolescent perfection. I ran my face up and down it with guiltless satisfaction. When I first met him I picked him up off the ground and wanted to throw him on the bed he seemed so much smaller than me and any clients I had had in ages. His real age was 31. I projected dominating him by dressing him up like a fairy boy complete with glitter and wings. He replied that it sounded like a fun idea. Exactly what I like to hear. With a cute smile and glimmer in his eyes, he offered to massage me which was very welcomed by my body whose muscles seemed to remain in a permanent state of tightness from our rigorous fight workouts that I was doing at least 5-6 hour a week. His fetish was rubbing my breasts vigorously and the action alone seemed to excite him almost to orgasm. It felt very much like a teen sex fantasy because the whole session consisted entirely of rubbing and touching of my body safely clearing any area near my genitals. Although I was only 4 years his senior I felt like I was helping a young man explore sex for the first time. Maybe I was, I would never know. I’ve definitely done that for men before. I didn’t ask but I could tell he didn’t have much experience. A young Sikh college student once called me over and after we started he told me he had never seen or touched a vagina before, as it was against his religion to do so. Everything he did was with the hands of a clumsy piously restricted virgin daring to break out of the strict desires of God for an hour and listen to his own carnal desires.
My fairy boy twink straddled me and continued to rub my breasts in circles, never touching the nipples. His body would pull back and shudder when I reached down and touched his cock even minimally. When he did finally ejaculate, it was mostly without my touching him, but of him touching me, fantasizing what he wasn’t or couldn’t have in that moment for whatever reason. He came with such intensity it shot me on the side of my cheek as I turned my face away and closed my eyes. Clumps landed in my hair and bits were in his hair well. He was the one to run to the bathroom to get a towel for us (that was usually my job) and we laughed as we cleaned his mess off of both of us. This was nowhere NEAR the usual reaction I would procure if any client’s semen got near my face or even on my hair, but because he was such a delightful twink, he got a glowing pass. I was happy to please him by allowing him to please me. It was his willingness to oblige my fantasies which opened up my willingness to oblige his. And his were so easy to oblige compared to most of the guys that I had come across in months. The whole evening would be full of healing but the simple interaction and exchanges between me and this client was the beginning of a long needed rejuvenation.
My next client was a nurse. A Mexican guy with a decent job. Where have you been all this fucking year? I didn’t fall too hard for him though like I would have done in the past. My days of falling for clients was over and I was too guarded from previous experiences of past months. Our sex was good. I am always extremely pleased when men can fingerbang my pussy til it drips wet puddles all over the bedsheets. He was a very silent lover so I had to imagine nasty things were being sad and done to me from deep inside my headspace. I had a very satisfying orgasm on his dick. This is a rare occurence for me actually (i can orgasm but ON a dick directly is a different story, usually fingers are more precise). It is much easier to do when I haven’t had satisfying sex in many weeks, its like my body LONGS for the release. I can always tell how long its been by how my body reacts to the stimulation. Very similar to the fairy boy earlier in the evening, probably had pent up tension from MONTHS or perhaps YEARS. I grabbed the nurse’s body and pulled it close to mine and released all my post coital bliss hormones all over him knowing we would dose off for at least an hour in afterglow. We talked about how long and much needed that sex was for both of us. But the cuddling, as you know, is what I live for. I knew better than to want too much from him. During our session he talked about different interests like going to Vegas and strip clubs and tequila and gambling and I recognized our differences so I never tried to want more than just repeat business from him. “I’ve had a really shitty time dating people,”I said placing his arms around my body, placing his hand over my breast like I like.”This is all I really need and want from everyone I try to date but it seems so hard to get.” I went home at 6am and slept in til 5pm the next day alone and content in my lovely comfy bed much better than the cheap notel motel bed I was on hours earlier. I woke up rejuvenated and ready to face the world of sex work that had lately become cruel and harsh again, ready to bear more clients good and bad, my battery recharged, my soul reminded that it was good and deserving and knew no wrong in seeking the basic needs of all human beings. Reminded once again that we all really sought the same things from each other at the end of the day. Reminded that there were days that I used to love my clients and my job. Reminded that not everyone was psychotic or hated me or wanted me dead. Reminded of the goodness in men once again. I wasn’t yet ready to date anyone yet, but these kinds of experiences were key in balancing my soul and preparing it to feel like I could imagine sharing it with someone again. This was perfect, as much as I needed and wanted. not more, not less.