We all have our quirky side -- all of us. We all have our predilections. They are sort of innate. We are born with them. They are our strong points, our habits, built into our system, unchangeable, fixed, our interests, the way we roll. Enough synonyms. (That's why the wise moderators gave me this little closet all to myself)
So, we gather here as mongers. We have that in common. We all like sexual encounters and lots of them. But that is where it ends. The way that we carry out that commonality of mongering out into the world is sometimes as different as night and day. Some of your ways are so foreign to me, in that I don't have the body-mind-emotional makeup to handle myself in the fashion that you play your game. But I respect and enjoy your view, your game, your focus, your happiness. Some of us of a similar ilk, more or less form a warm bond to each other much as birds-of-a-feather-flock-together.
For me, the great interest in the hobby is the nature of compatibility and the amazing curiosity of why and how and on what level and how deeply and harmoniously or inharmoniously I match up with so many different mates. And then on another level, first and foremost, WHY I CHOSE THE ONE I CHOSE.
Now for me, most of the time, it is never really truly to just unload and pop a nut. God has given me two fine instruments at my disposal called a right and left hand for that purpose. (Not for that purpose alone. I don't want to limit God. There is eating and keyboards and signatures and shoveling snow, et cetera)
For me, the great interest is the personality of who I am engaging with and the chemistry between us on so many levels.
For example, we could like each other on a physical level but fail to be successful emotionally, mentally, energetically, even sexually, et cetera. The dynamics, positive or negative are absolutely amazing to watch.
And my reason for choosing who I choose changes from encounter to encounter. Sometimes I desire to match up with the Queen I could never get, lest I pay for her. Sometimes I choose something small that I can possibly dominate. Sometimes I choose a powerful mama that will only have her own way, sometimes a delicate flower. You get the idea.
But that is a decision that sometimes goes bad. I sometimes end up in a situation that does not truly suit me. But like any good monger, I make the best of it. Live and learn. I learn how to enjoy our differences and how to make harmony where it does not exist naturally. Like two streams mingling. Sometimes it is chaotic and other times it is smooth with synchronicity
All this leads to the topic of "intuition." That part of you that speaks to you independent of intellect, mind, emotions and all other activities in your human arsenal. That still small voice without passion or prejudice that warns and directs you when you are still enough to become aware of it.
So, I chose one today. I chose one out of many. I could not say "no." She was small and cute. (my real honest fetish) She was not so enamored by my presence. I am in a foreign country. I stand out like a sore thumb. I do nothing to blend. I actually do the opposite because I know that nothing on the face of the earth could ever hide my stick-out-of-a-crowd-in-a-foreign-country character.
But the game being what it is for the girls, they bite the bullet for the sake of the all mighty dollar. She agreed to make the trip upstairs with me.
Now, we enter the elevator with others and it is a long journey up stopping on many floors. It is not the type of situation where you make small-talk, either. And, I know she does not like my presence. I am far bigger and too robust-looking to suit her. I saw her downstairs in close proximity with her probable boyfriend-pimp-husband and he was the exact opposite of me.
Anyway, knowing that we are not a perfect match, my arm touches hers on the elevator and there was a good vibe, a great vibe, a vibe that said that this is going to be good.
We get to the room and she has to finally face reality, like she has to fuck this guy to get his money. She was afraid of me. Possibly never had a westerner. My member's size is not gargantuan but not something to be trivialized either. She was a small lady but she definitely had a kid or two which widens the canal quite a bit. And her complexion and skin was truly like Chinese porcelain, I mean gorgeous white. She frosted her hair and put sparkles in it to look cool. I had to calm her down and I spoke in her language that I am gentle and to please not fear me. She understood and we started.
There was a mirror. Oh my God, my darker yeti-like features did not match well to her fine, white, sexy, petite complexion. But she liked it. She did not like me, no way, no how, but she liked "IT."
Orgasm after orgasm she enjoyed yet looked at me as if I were an alien. Criticized me as a fucking American who loves to fuck foreign Asian pussy. I was a bit startled and attempted to dismount but she did not want that. She grabbed hold of me with her tiny hands and at all times desperately enjoying orgasm after orgasm yet trying to avoid and denounce what she was doing. She wanted more and needed more and I watched her dilemma unfold , real time, loving and enjoying the sex, yet at the same time hating herself for not being able to let go of it especially when I gave her a way out.
We finished up and went downstairs and I saw her reunite with her man. I stayed in the area for a while and passed by her a few more times, saying thank you and to have a good night. She communicated something to her little man and he smiled and wished me a good evening.
All in all, a very unique encounter, but, really, aren't they all?
So, we gather here as mongers. We have that in common. We all like sexual encounters and lots of them. But that is where it ends. The way that we carry out that commonality of mongering out into the world is sometimes as different as night and day. Some of your ways are so foreign to me, in that I don't have the body-mind-emotional makeup to handle myself in the fashion that you play your game. But I respect and enjoy your view, your game, your focus, your happiness. Some of us of a similar ilk, more or less form a warm bond to each other much as birds-of-a-feather-flock-together.
For me, the great interest in the hobby is the nature of compatibility and the amazing curiosity of why and how and on what level and how deeply and harmoniously or inharmoniously I match up with so many different mates. And then on another level, first and foremost, WHY I CHOSE THE ONE I CHOSE.
Now for me, most of the time, it is never really truly to just unload and pop a nut. God has given me two fine instruments at my disposal called a right and left hand for that purpose. (Not for that purpose alone. I don't want to limit God. There is eating and keyboards and signatures and shoveling snow, et cetera)
For me, the great interest is the personality of who I am engaging with and the chemistry between us on so many levels.
For example, we could like each other on a physical level but fail to be successful emotionally, mentally, energetically, even sexually, et cetera. The dynamics, positive or negative are absolutely amazing to watch.
And my reason for choosing who I choose changes from encounter to encounter. Sometimes I desire to match up with the Queen I could never get, lest I pay for her. Sometimes I choose something small that I can possibly dominate. Sometimes I choose a powerful mama that will only have her own way, sometimes a delicate flower. You get the idea.
But that is a decision that sometimes goes bad. I sometimes end up in a situation that does not truly suit me. But like any good monger, I make the best of it. Live and learn. I learn how to enjoy our differences and how to make harmony where it does not exist naturally. Like two streams mingling. Sometimes it is chaotic and other times it is smooth with synchronicity
All this leads to the topic of "intuition." That part of you that speaks to you independent of intellect, mind, emotions and all other activities in your human arsenal. That still small voice without passion or prejudice that warns and directs you when you are still enough to become aware of it.
So, I chose one today. I chose one out of many. I could not say "no." She was small and cute. (my real honest fetish) She was not so enamored by my presence. I am in a foreign country. I stand out like a sore thumb. I do nothing to blend. I actually do the opposite because I know that nothing on the face of the earth could ever hide my stick-out-of-a-crowd-in-a-foreign-country character.
But the game being what it is for the girls, they bite the bullet for the sake of the all mighty dollar. She agreed to make the trip upstairs with me.
Now, we enter the elevator with others and it is a long journey up stopping on many floors. It is not the type of situation where you make small-talk, either. And, I know she does not like my presence. I am far bigger and too robust-looking to suit her. I saw her downstairs in close proximity with her probable boyfriend-pimp-husband and he was the exact opposite of me.
Anyway, knowing that we are not a perfect match, my arm touches hers on the elevator and there was a good vibe, a great vibe, a vibe that said that this is going to be good.
We get to the room and she has to finally face reality, like she has to fuck this guy to get his money. She was afraid of me. Possibly never had a westerner. My member's size is not gargantuan but not something to be trivialized either. She was a small lady but she definitely had a kid or two which widens the canal quite a bit. And her complexion and skin was truly like Chinese porcelain, I mean gorgeous white. She frosted her hair and put sparkles in it to look cool. I had to calm her down and I spoke in her language that I am gentle and to please not fear me. She understood and we started.
There was a mirror. Oh my God, my darker yeti-like features did not match well to her fine, white, sexy, petite complexion. But she liked it. She did not like me, no way, no how, but she liked "IT."
Orgasm after orgasm she enjoyed yet looked at me as if I were an alien. Criticized me as a fucking American who loves to fuck foreign Asian pussy. I was a bit startled and attempted to dismount but she did not want that. She grabbed hold of me with her tiny hands and at all times desperately enjoying orgasm after orgasm yet trying to avoid and denounce what she was doing. She wanted more and needed more and I watched her dilemma unfold , real time, loving and enjoying the sex, yet at the same time hating herself for not being able to let go of it especially when I gave her a way out.
We finished up and went downstairs and I saw her reunite with her man. I stayed in the area for a while and passed by her a few more times, saying thank you and to have a good night. She communicated something to her little man and he smiled and wished me a good evening.
All in all, a very unique encounter, but, really, aren't they all?
