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Pooner Diaries: Jaded

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I smile when I think about that favorite lady of mine. She's so sweet. She's so pretty. But under her wholesome girl-next-door good looks, she has a playful and kinky mind. Every time I see her, she comes up with another crazy suggestion after another. She whispers them to me with a gleam in her eyes, and they're always fun. I really do think that for the crazy things she comes up with the pleasure is all hers. And who am I to deny my favorite lady her fantasies? Why, it's the gift that keeps on giving, I tell you.

 

We play our wicked games late into the night together. But in spite of all the kink, all the wildness, there's something that I really love about her. It's that in spite of all our kinky play she still delights in a gentle kiss, a soft touch. My warm fingertips grazing the back of her neck as I set alight a butterfly kiss on those full lips of hers.

 

We've both been at this a long time. She's a little older, as she would put it. Or a little better, as I would put it. Many men have graced her bed in all these years, and of course I've graced a few beds in my time. And though we've been getting wilder and wilder with time, she hasn't become jaded. She still delights in the simple things, as do I.

 

It isn't easy, still holding on to that sense of wonder. I see who I could become, sometimes, when I get together with some of my friends. I know the locker room talk all too well. That macho banter that sometimes comes up whenever a few of us pooners get together. And we tip a drink or two, and sometimes the banter turns sharp and bitter. You know the lines, I'm sure. All those hos are interested in is my money. Those bitches better give me what I'm paying for. Because, you know, I'm entitled to it. And so on.

 

I know there can be a distaff counterpart, where the ladies call us suckers. Walking ATMs. They might say that they could get away with anything and us drooling dogs will still come to call. It's been hard to take, when I've overheard it. And I can't believe it's any easier when the ladies overhear the guys.

 

Oh, sure, there have been a few ladies who have treated me like a walking wallet. Just as I'm sure as the nose on my face, that the ladies sometimes have to put up with the smelly, ill mannered, rude clients out there. I honestly can't blame anyone who starts to feel like everyone on the other side is the stuff of dismal nightmares on a bad day. It would be altogether too easy to.

 

It might be late in the evening and I might be glassy eyed and my speech may slur when I hear these bitter sentiments, but I just smile and nod and keep my mouth shut. I know the power these words have in forming my opinions, and I don't want to hold them. I never want to feel that way. I want to see the best in everyone. I want to believe that the lady with me is sincerely enjoying my company, that the interest isn't purely professional. Because for my lady, I'm sincerely interested in her well being. I want to know what she really thinks. I want to see the best in her, and I usually do. And perhaps because of that, my lady always sees the best in me as well.

 

Truth to tell, it takes an effort to stay on the side of the angels. When I feel like I'm starting to get bitter, when I get down, I know it's time to take a sabbatical. I've taken a few, in my years in the hobby. My lady does the same. She isn't always available, either. I know my lady has missed me when I've been away. But I always come back, fresh and rarin' to go. I kiss her like I haven't seen her in years, and then we fuck like sailors on shore leave. And just before I leave her home, leaving her starry eyed, sweaty and panting on her bed, I kiss her softly goodbye.

 

And she knows, it's never truly goodbye. It's just so long, till the next time.

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Cool!
Thanks. :)

 

As always ... an amazing entry in the pooner diaries. Thanks Birdboy. A great post.
Thank you, porthos!

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