What do men like?

Zoffany_Tribuna_det1
Johann Zoffany: (part of) The Tribuna of the Uffizi (feat. Titian: Venus of Urbino)

Here is a controversial anti-feminist – or is it? – statement by Amber O’Hara: Men are the delicious other halves of our lives – the yang to our yin, the strong to our vulnerable (supposedly) and the penises to our vaginas (if we are straight, that is).

It’s the penises to our vaginas (and other orifices) that I have a particular interest in in this line of work and personally, as I have had an interest in sex and an acceptance of it from an early age. I don’t consider this an unhealthy interest when I look back, but it was a private thing, I learned early that some questions or topics of conversation were apparently too perverse to raise.
I remember at the age of 8, my best little friend (also 8) telling me that we were existing here because our fathers had put their penises into our mothers’ vaginas. She was appalled as this meant her lovely gentle father had “dirtied” her mother twice as there were two children in their family.
We then examined my family, with a great number of children and she concluded that my father was a dirty old man and my mother, well, she must be quite the dirty bitch (or words from an 8 year old to that effect). I on the other hand found it quite exciting, the thought that my parents were so dirty seemed progressive to me.
Up until the age of about 12, when my friend’s dad got a transfer for his job and they moved, my friend and I had many discussions about the nature of sex and what it could involve. She reported one morning that she had walked into her parents’ room after hearing them laughing, only to find her father on top of her mother and although they had bedding covering them, she saw her mother’s naked breast so assumed they had been baby-making. We counted ahead nine months to the expected delivery date. Nine months later she was still anxiously wondering why there was no sign of the baby, but I was still holding on to the thought that if they were laughing it must have been fun.
Since then of course I have discovered that there are dozens of different things to do with penises and vaginas (as well as anuses, mouths, breasts, hands and feet) and I am in the delightful situation where I still learn every day about a new thing a dude would like to try. In my privileged position as official regular playgirl for some of the more interesting men in Christchurch and the wider South Island of New Zealand, I discover and delve deeper into new sexual pastimes, usually going a little bit further as the level of trust deepens, and disclosures are made about things that would be fun to look at further. I hold those delicious thoughts till the next visit from my temporary male other half.
There is something to be said for return visits. I can make a mental note about preferences and turn ons, and things to be gently worked towards based on information from previous visits and fun that was had. It’s not that I see myself as some kind of therapist, hells no, I’m far too selfish for that, but as I have hinted at previously, I find the connection between the mind and the penis enthralling. As well as the riddle which is the question, what do men like?
This particular man loves to look at, kiss, lick and penetrate my pussy when my ass is in the air, ready for doggy style; this other man loves to lightly slap my breasts when I am on top riding him or lying side by side but knows that when he does it too hard, I will retaliate with sharp slaps on his divinely wobbly ass until I am happy with the sound of my hand on his flesh; this other man, after years of never being allowed blow jobs at home, is willingly learning to accept that I am not degraded when I suck, lick and adore his beautiful cock whether I am on my knees on the floor or straddling him until the urge to fuck is overwhelming and I have to make him impale me; this other man likes to make me squirt and lick it off my thighs – the first time I saw him, he made me squirt three times in an hour, from then on I’ve adored him as if he’s a god; this other man loves my breasts swinging freely and bouncing wildly while he fucks me fast; this other man loves to kneel at the edge of my bed as if to pray, before he pulls my legs over his shoulders with my pussy up to his face and licks and gently sucks until I am deliriously coming, oh my; this other man loves to lie next to me and look into my eyes when I am so hot that my hair is stringy and wet and I’m sweaty from multiple orgasms during our long sessions, while we talk about travel, music, film or just this, that and the other thing, laughing and joking like the old friends we have become.
The unspoken-of partnership which is each liaison in sex work is the discovery and development of sexual desires at the best of times, or it’s just a fabulous fuck and release of stress. Either way, I have found that men like it.

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