A London Transsexual Escort 251.

E, called in the morning, apologising for not getting back to me to confirm an appointment the previous day; ‘Sorry Frances, I’ve never done this before, I just got cold feet.’ ‘Not to worry, we didn’t lock into it did we, would you like to try and meet again today, say 3 o'clock…OK agreed.’
This gave me a few hours to play around in the garden back at HQ, planting up courgettes, tomatoes, sewing basil and spinach seeds. One of the delights of summer is, being able to step out into my own garden and pick the ingredients I need for my lunch, tomatoes, basil, mozzarella (not home-grown), a generous drizzle of virgin olive oil with a sprinkling of Maldon salt crystals, followed by homemade strawberry ice cream.
This wasn’t E’s first-time meeting with a Transsexual escort, he’d met someone a year earlier, but it wasn’t quite a success, ‘Well…let's say she was a bit too full on, so I paid her and quickly made my exit,’ he said, I didn’t press him further, as he was already looking rather nervous.
However, the large G & T I poured him seemed to help, as he sank comfortably into the sofa and relaxed. A married man (many are), he and his wife were no longer having sex and whilst they still very much loved one another, they’d now become more like fond companions, which is not such a bad thing.   
Over time, every relationship will experience changes in its dynamic, sometimes up, sometimes down or as often happens, a move sideways, without animosity or blame.
I’ve two dear friends, a gay couple who’ve been together nigh on twenty-five years; come bedtime each retires to their own bedroom, but not before hopping into the other’s bed for a cuddle. Each has found other passions; one gardening, the other, has taken up the euphonium again and now plays in a brass band, the glue that binds their relationship is no longer dependant on sex.
And so, E and I retired to the boudoir for a spot of dalliance; it was a tame affair, a back massage, body rub, kissing and oral, something he was keen to try. ‘This is a bit scary, but I really want to do it Frances, I really want to suck your cock.’
So, with me lying upon my back, l wanked myself purposely with long, slow hand movements till l was nice and stiff, E stood looking on whilst playing with his cock. ‘Are you ready to boldly go,' I teased.
Leaning over and lowering his mouth over my cock, he jerked himself off with a few final strokes, splashing overmy thigh and stocking tops. ‘Phew...thanks, I really enjoyed that, I think I’d like to do that again.’ ‘Be my guest,’ I replied and he did, when he returned four days later; result.
My word of the month: Detumescence: The act of subsiding from a swollen state, especially the relaxation of an erect penis.

What I'm reading in bed...
A Cook's Tour: Anthony Bourdain.

My Website

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