. This is where she drops the bomb and says I can seek sexual satisfaction “outside” but with the condition that she shouldn’t get to know about it. I was rather shocked hearing this and brushed it aside as a joke. Few months down the line, she booked a holiday to go to her home country with the kids. The day before she was leaving, she tells me the same thing again. This time I take it as confirmed license to punt and start my punting spree while she is away Since she has returned from the holiday I have not managed to punt as much as it’s a bit difficult to make sure that I meet her condition while she is around
That’s my story and it would be interesting to hear some of yours if you are willing to share.
PS: Apologies if this topic has been discussed before in which case happy for a mod to close or merge this topic with the original.
Well you’re the lucky one!
My own story goes back to 1983 when I started working further afield and my travels took me to Nottingham amongst many other places.
I had remembered a friend of mine telling me about Nottingham Goose Fair and it was while driving around early one evening looking for the location I drove past some ugly, concrete slab-like flats and noticed a not unattractive woman with a mop of permed hair standing with her arms folded to keep warm near a stepped entrance to said flats wearing a short, furry type jacket, mini skirt and thigh-high boots and I instinctively slowed down as you would. She looked at me and mouthed something as I glided past in a not exactly inconspicuous heavily sign-written works van plastered with Company name and telephone number.
I wasn't sure what she said but seeing that expanse of thigh above the boot/below the skirt reminded me of a stocking top and so I was drawn to her like a moth to light/fly to shit and had no alternative but to go round again to see what it was all about.
I drove around the block spotting the Goose Fair I had started out looking for in a large area across the road at the bottom of the hill but by now my mind was firmly fixated on another type of ride and by the time I turned right, right and right again she had disappeared from view.
However another similarly attired woman had suddenly sprung out of nowhere a bit further down the hill. This one was wearing jeans and didn't look quite as cold as the first one but I was still fixated on that bare flesh at the top of those thighs rather than jeans and so drove the circuit a couple more times before finding somewhere to park up near where I first saw her.
Sure enough she reappeared shortly afterwards together with a bloke but as they stepped out of the stairwell he turned left and she turned right without saying so much as a word like a couple who had just had an argument. She walked a few paces, stopped, spotted my non-stealth Company van, looked directly at me and nodded.
I got out of the van and walked towards her feeling very self conscious like everybody was watching me but at the age of 23 driven by hormones my cock had by now taken control and the rest of me was just hanging on for the ride. In more ways than one.
By the time I was close enough to hear her well practiced catchphrase of 'Looking for business?' all I could do was meekly reply like a ventriloquist's dummy where my testicles had turned into the driving force of Roger de Courcey while the rest of me transformed into Nookie the Bear and somehow forced a reply of 'Yeah!'
I didn't even ask how much nor can I remember what I paid not that it would have much difference at this stage. I was locked on target like an Exocet. I certainly can't remember her name.
It felt like an out of body experience as I followed her up those concrete stairs eyes firmly set on the prize but feeling very nervous and more than a little self conscious we entered the flat through a door that was well past its sell by date into a scruffy hallway and into a small bedroom.
I held out the money with a shaking hand (£20 maybe?) but I don't remember too much detail apart from she did take the fluffy jacket off, pulled her thick woolly jumper up, popped a tit out and laid on her back on a plain single bed still wearing those fucking boots.
I was already rock hard and so she rolled the rubber on with little effort which I thought was amazing not stopping to think how many times a day she must practice this particular manoeuvre.
The lingering memory was her attitude & behaviour resembled her boot & body temperature ie pretty fucking cold and she held her hand around the base of my cock and positioned her legs to stop it going all the way in which pissed me off but didn't deter me from putting a hand on each icy knee and pumping away until I started to shoot my bolt into the johnny at which point she was instinctively saying 'Have you come?' while simultaneously changing into reverse gear (not that she was actually fucking moving in the first place) and backing off my cock still jerking with me instinctively having to finish the job in hand.
That was a first for me and I have hated it ever since when I am asked 'Have you come?' or 'Hurry up and come.' which seems to do the reverse of what they were hoping for or worse still having sensory deprivation just at money shot time.
So my first paid experience was not exactly satisfying but served a purpose and was responsible for kick-starting me on the slippery slope.
And so apart from a few breaks when I've been in serious relationships and these last couple of years due to COVID and other health problems I've been punting for 40 years now but I'm not hooked!
Closest I ever got to your experience would be taking a girlfriend to Amsterdam for her 40th birthday weekend as she harboured a little bi-curiosity from a sleepover when she was 16 and woke up to find her girl friends hand between her own legs. My perverted mind decided a visit to a swingers club was in order so I lined up my little surprise. Story for another day maybe.
Anyway as we wandered around the RLD the night before her surprise she decided she would like to see me fuck another girl and so under extreme protest from me knowing she would probably have second thoughts after the event we trawled the RLD for a couple of hours with me pulling every excuse because I didn’t want her to say in the cold light of day; ‘You only picked her because she looks like ____ [insert name of friend here] I finally relented but only if she chose the girl herself. I was running out of excuses to put this thing off and was tired and ready for bed and so the deed was done.
She sat on a chair in the corner with a sickly smile on her face while I struggled to shoot my bolt but I finally got there in the end. It was back in the days of suck 50 gilder/fuck 50 gilder/suck & fuck 100 gilder and I remember having to pay 50 gilder just for her to watch.
Needless to say by the time we got back to the hotel she was blaming me saying I didn’t have to go through with it and by the time breakfast came around she wasn’t talking to me at all.
Happy days…
-pp