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I’m an escort that sexually teases and denies my husband. Here’s my story.
Years ago, I worked as a stripper in a Baltimore club on The Block. The club is long gone now, but at the time, it was a corner strip club with a VIP section and two “anything goes” back rooms upstairs. By “anything goes”, I mean the dancers were free to negotiate anything they wanted to do with the customer, including sex. I had to give half my upstairs tips to the club for the “protection” they provided.
I worked there a couple of nights a week, usually Tuesday and Wednesday nights. These were the slowest nights of the week, unless a convention was in town. I enjoyed the quieter nights. When the bar was crowded, most men were there to see the strip show. Few men wanted to spend the money to sit in the VIP section and even fewer wanted to take a girl upstairs. I felt like the men that wanted to spend money came to the club on the quieter nights. Anyway, I did well enough financially to pay my bills.
I had some customers on the side. That way, I could keep all the money, minus expenses. I would rent a motel room on Pulaski Highway and see my customers there. These were usually guys I’d first met at the club, but sometimes, I’d get a phone call out of the blue. Usually, it was one of my customers. This particular call was an associate of one of my customers.
We spoke on the phone for a few minutes. He asked me if I smoked, and I answered that I did, but not during sessions. He asked me if I was kinky, and I told him that I don’t discuss that on the phone. You never know if it’s a cop calling, since prostitution was and is illegal in Maryland. Sure, the guy doesn’t know if he’s speaking to a cop either, but since he got my number from an acquaintance, he was probably a little more confident.
He made an appointment to see me the following Friday night. He booked a two hour session, which was unusual for a first-time customer. I didn’t think much about it, as I had other customers to see in the meantime.
I was sitting in a motel room when my new customer arrived. He was in his late 30’s or possibly early 40’s. I could tell by his leg muscles that he’d been an athlete when he was younger. He had a bit of a gut but otherwise looked to be in good shape. He was carrying a duffle bag.
He handed me a sheet of paper and asked me, “Can you do this?”
I read through his kinky request. It sounded like a lot of fun, and I was glad that it wasn’t the usual fuck or suck. The only thing I was concerned about was tying him up. I’d never tied a person up for sexual play, and since he was paying for the experience, I wanted him to enjoy it.
“Sure,” I replied. “Strip.” I tried to remain calm, but I was already looking forward to having two hours of fun with him.
Once he was naked, I had him sit in a chair in the room, and got some rope out of the duffle bag. I struggled a bit, but I eventually tied his wrists together behind the back of the chair. It was a little easier to tie his ankles to the front legs of the chair.
After I finished tying him to the chair, I undressed. Not in a striptease way, but casually, like I was going to take a shower. I knew he wanted me to be as casual as I could, but my excitement was getting the better of me.
I straddled his legs and told him the rules. “All you have to do is tell me a sexy story. If I like your story, I’ll untie your hands, and you can play with my boobs for the rest of the session.”
Now, this was a new experience for me. I have ample 36DDD tits, and pretty much every customer I’d ever had wanted to manhandle them. Not that I was complaining too much. I enjoyed the way my boobs felt when a man’s hands squeezed them and tweaked my nipples. Oh God, especially when pinching or nibbling my nipples. It felt like I had a direct connection between my nipples and my clit. I had to ask some of my customers to leave my nipples alone canlı bahis şirketleri because I couldn’t concentrate on their pleasure. I appreciate that they wanted me to enjoy myself, but I was there to provide them pleasure. I didn’t want to be distracted,
So, he told me a kinky story. It was about a dominant woman who would only allow her submissive to eat her pussy. They never fucked, and it was up to him to take care of his own cock, It was a really good story, and my pussy was wet from rubbing my clit on his leg while he told the story. I could tell from the stiffness of his cock that he enjoyed telling the story. I touched his cock a few times, but I really didn’t need to.
I was a bit surprised when he stopped talking. I was enjoying the story, and I didn’t want it to end. Remembering my role, I slapped his face with the back of my left hand and said, “That was a shitty story. Don’t you want to play with these big soft tits?” I held them up with my hands. “Tell me another story,” I casually commanded.
We spent the rest of the time with him telling me stories and me teasing him with my tits. Actually, we went a few minutes over time, because he was in the middle of a story and I wanted to hear the ending. Good thing I didn’t have another appointment booked until later.
I got up, dressed, untied him from the chair, watched him get dressed, put the ropes back in the duffle bag, and leave. My next customer was due in about an hour. I undressed, took a shower, and got ready for him.
I really didn’t think much about my new customer until a few days later when I was home and horny. I was lying in my bed. I took out my Hitachi vibrator and held it against my clit. I enjoyed the way the vibrator pulsated on my clit. Suddenly, I remembered my session where I was teasing a man with my tits. As I remembered how I felt during the session, I exploded with a mind-blowing orgasm.
While I rested, I thought about what just happened. I thought about how much fun I had teasing a man with my tits. I’m pretty sure that was the first time in my adult life I’d been naked with a man for two hours and he didn’t touch my boobs once. Of course, he couldn’t, but that was beside the point.
One day my boob tease customer called to book another two-hour appointment. I asked him if he enjoyed our last time together and if he wanted anything different. He replied that he enjoyed our session, that he wanted the same thing, and he wished I would have smoked during our first session. I told him I could smoke for him this time.
I rented a smoking motel room for our session. The other customers I saw that night weren’t thrilled but no one asked why. Good. I didn’t want to explain why I’d rented a smoking room.
When my boob tease guy arrived, he didn’t have to say anything, so I didn’t say anything. He undressed and I tied him to the chair. I’d been practicing my knots, so tying him to the chair was a lot easier.
I undressed, straddled him, and lit a cigarette. While I smoked, he told me a story about a guy with a smoking fetish visiting strippers that smoked. I liked the story, but I remembered my role. I was more comfortable slapping him, and I’m pretty sure my backhand slaps were harder than last time.
Over the two hours I straddled him, I probably smoked five or six cigarettes. I didn’t want to overdo it and I wasn’t sure how much cigarette smoke he could handle. I took several opportunities to blow the smoke directly in his face, and once, I even kissed him while exhaling. I don’t normally kiss my customers, but he’d mentioned it in a story and it sounded like fun, so I tried it. It was fun. It felt so powerful to dominate him and be in control with him.
After the session was over and he left, I laid down on the bed and played with myself. I think it was the combination of the nicotine and the feeling of power, but it only took a few minutes of canlı kaçak iddaa squeezing my nipples and rubbing my clit with my hand for me to explode in a powerful orgasm.
When I had some spare time at home, I did some reading about BDSM and smoking fetishes. I was pretty sure I knew what turned my boob tease guy on about my smoking, because I heard it in the stories he told. It took me quite a bit of Internet searching on my computer (remember, this was many years ago. Cell phones barely existed and were expensive.) to find information about bondage and fetishes. When I looked up breast worship, all I found was information about breast and nipple suckling. While I enjoyed nipple suckling, that wasn’t the kind of breast worship I was interested in learning more about.
The next time my boob tease guy called, I asked him if I could do something a little different with him. He agreed and booked another two-hour appointment. I had a couple of surprises for him. The first surprise was that I blocked out a three-hour session.
I rented a smoking motel room. This time, I planned on smoking a few more cigarettes for him. I felt like he could handle it and I wanted him to be thrilled with my performance.
After I tied him to the chair and straddled him, I hit him with my next surprise.
I told him, “I don’t want to hear stories right now. I want to hear why this is so much fun for you. Frankly, it’s been a lot of fun for me.”
So, for the next forty minutes or so, he told me all about his tease and denial fantasy. This was the first time I’d ever heard about a chastity cage and I was very interested. He already had me with the tit teasing, being able to keep his cock locked up would be the German chocolate icing on a German chocolate cake.
After his explanation, we played our little game. He told me kinky stories and I slapped him. I was pretty sure he was giving me more details about his fantasy, and I enjoyed hearing all of those details. I was convinced I’d made the right decision.
After the two hours were up, I untied him. He started to get dressed, but I stopped him. I pulled him into bed, and I told him he’d earned his tit touching time. I told him to pay special attention to tweaking and nibbling on my nipples. He did, and while rubbing my clit I exploded with a wonderful orgasm. He didn’t even have to penetrate me. I came just from thinking about my tit teasing and his nibbling.
We cuddled until his time was up. While he was getting dressed, I asked him if he was serious about fulfilling his tease and denial fantasy. When he said yes, I told him to call me one evening so we could get to know each other better.
I found out from our phone conversations that his name was Thomas. It turned out we didn’t have much in common. He was a software developer and spent his spare time on the computer. Me, I preferred lounging on the sofa and watching TV. We both liked Italian food, which was one plus, since we had several good Italian restaurants around to choose from.
The first time Thomas took me to his house, I fell in love. He had a three-bedroom townhome. Two of the bedrooms were empty. I asked him why he bought such a big house for himself. He shrugged his shoulders and said it was a good investment.
He had his own laundry room in the basement. Yay! No more trips to the laundromat. The basement itself was large, carpeted, and wide open, which meant we’d have a place to play besides the bedroom. I made an arrangement with Thomas that had me coming over every Sunday afternoon to do my laundry and have a little fun. I’d tie him to a chair in the basement and do my laundry naked. While the washer and dryer were going, I’d straddle Thomas, smoke, and have him tell me his stories. Definitely more fun than sitting in a laundromat hoping there were no panty thieves around.
It took time for our relationship to develop. I worked most nights, canlı kaçak bahis so we couldn’t get together that often outside of our Sunday afternoon fun. I kept thinking, is his boob worship and a chastity cage enough for me to be happy. It was certainly thrilling. But could I sustain our relationship after the thrill was gone?
One day when I was at home watching a romantic comedy on TV, I decided that I would make our relationship work no matter what. Thomas was kind to me and didn’t have a problem with me working as a stripper and an escort. Actually, I think he enjoyed thinking about what I did with my customers. I know he enjoyed the stories I told while I gave him hand jobs.
Thomas really wanted to get me off with his mouth, but unfortunately, the only ways I could orgasm was with my Hitachi vibrator or with him nibbling on my nipples. Or both. So far, it’s a sacrifice that he’s been willing to make. Sometimes, reality bites and gets in the way of our fantasies.
I moved in with Thomas after we’d known each other for a little less than a year. Since he was supporting me, I could afford to quit working as a stripper. I dropped a couple of my least favorite escort customers and reduced my schedule so I’d have more time to spend with Thomas.
It was still difficult. Thomas worked during the day and I worked nights. Sometimes, I’d wake him up early in the morning so we could have some play time before he’d have to get ready for work. We were both busy most weekends, but I made sure to keep up with our Sunday afternoon laundry fun.
Getting Thomas into a chastity cage was a story in itself. When I moved in, he didn’t have one, so we went online and picked out a nice stainless steel chastity cage. Taking his cock girth measurement with a piece of string was fun for both of us. I made sure it was accurate by having him stand there while I took his girth measurement ten times or so.
When the cage arrived, Thomas had to get adjusted to wearing it. At first, he could only wear the cage for two or three hours at a time. Pinching was a bit of a problem, but fortunately, chafing wasn’t. Sleeping with the cage on proved to be a challenge that took a while for him to overcome. It took several weekends of trying before he slept through the night wearing the cage.
Once Thomas could comfortably wear the cage 24 / 7, I set aside Monday night as his edging night. I’d chain him to the bed, strip, unlock his chastity cage, straddle his thighs, put some baby oil in my right hand, and stroke him until he’d get hard. Since he was chained up, I was free to take my hand away anytime after he got hard.
Sure sometimes I’d try and take him to the edge before stopping. Most of the time, I’d just take my hand away after he got hard and wait for him to calm down. Usually, I’d try and do something sexy or tell him sexy stories so it would take him longer to lose his erection.
About once a month, at the end of an edging session, I’d stroke him to an orgasm. Afterwards, I’d clean him with a washcloth and clean the cage with rubbing alcohol.
Getting Thomas back in the cage after an edging session was a challenge sometimes. I’d go down to the kitchen, put some ice in a plastic bag, and use the ice to shrink him enough to get him back in the cage. He did not enjoy this process, but I found it very amusing. Since he was chained to the bed, he had no choice in the matter.
I use pussy eating as a punishment. If I want to punish Thomas, I chain him to the bed, straddle his face, and make him eat my pussy for at least an hour. So far, even though it feels pleasant, I haven’t had an orgasm from his stimulation.
We’ve been together for almost nine years now. I still tease him with my tits while doing the laundry on Sunday afternoons. I still edge him on Monday nights. I still have a few customers I see regularly in motel rooms.
Thomas still adores me and loves our games. He still nibbles on my nipples when I’m horny, but otherwise, he’s not allowed to touch my tits.
Thomas has never fucked me. It’s been nothing but my hand for him and a Hitachi vibrator for me.
I still love him and want him to be happy.
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