The Personality Test

After twenty-four years of marriage I had resigned myself to find my sexual pleasure outside of my marriage. Over the past ten years I had dabbled. The first time I had felt crushing shame after using a brothel in Auckland, New Zealand. I told my wife. She asked if I had fucked her. I lied and said no; it was just a massage and a hand-job.

I had eaten her out and fucked her in many positions. It had been awesome. My wife didn't need to know that.

My wife forgave me, and we even had wild sex that night. Then her interest in me waned. Back to normal. I spoke to her many times about it during our marriage. She just wasn't interested in sex. She said it was just the way she was. I tried so hard to spice it up and pleasure her. I pleaded for her to make a move on me just once. Touch my ass, sneak a kiss, anything. She never did. She loved me; I knew that. I had no doubts about it. But she hated sex, and it made me miserable.

I found a few girlfriends over the years outside the marriage. I travelled a lot and found myself in close company with other women. I'm not a bad-looking man. I'm fit for my age, and it shows. I am also a very confident man. Gone are the days when I was shy around women and not knowing what to say. I just don't care anymore, if I can provide any advice to younger men: show confidence, don't seem desperate, and treat women equally AND make them know you want them. It's easy when you know how. Here's a simple truth that most men can't seem to accept: women are interested but usually only when you show interest in them. Then be confident. Make a first move. If you fucked up, apologise and move on. Honestly, life's too short not to try. Remember to be respectful. Women want to feel like sluts between the sheets, not sitting in a bar.

With my girlfriends, I found I became skilled in bed. Practice does make perfect. Pleasuring a woman is easy if you are patient and caring. Gentle almost all the time, and only rough when they near their climax. They'll tell you when they want it rough. Not always with words, so be attentive.

Lastly, porn is ruining sex for generations. Sex with women is not like in porn, so if you think you know sex based on hours wanking on PornHub, then you will fail or be disappointed. Sex is intimacy, with two people coming together to share body parts and make the other person feel wonderful. It comes with emotional baggage. You can't be intimate and not have feelings. You will get closer and closer and soon love will enter the equation. Best to end it before that if you are in a relationship with someone else. If not, go for it. Remember, life is short.

I adore the female form. It captivates me, intrigues me, and I never get tired of exploring all the differences in a woman's body from my own. I could spend hours with a willing woman just exploring, touching, tasting, and moving her arms and legs around to see how she looks in that position. Women are beautiful. Gorgeous creatures.

As an aside, I fail to understand why women think men are pigs. Wanting sex is our very nature. Men can't help how our hormones make us feel. I once read an article by a woman who experimented with a testosterone laced hand cream. After a few days she felt such sympathy for teenage boys. She said her level of sexual excitement was almost unbearable and she wasn't equipped mentally to handle it. I can confirm this is true. Any parent will nod knowingly. Men are constantly suppressing their desires. It's our life. We learn to adapt quickly. I've jerked off almost every day of my life. It keeps me sane.

I digress and this isn't the tale I want to tell. Its background noise but a little important to the story. I'm not a nice man: a nice man stays home with his wife and doesn't cheat. A nice wife stays home with her husband and doesn't cheat. There's an important glue here to marriage: men crave sex. We are engineered to stick our cocks in women and fuck them. If we aren't getting it at home, what do you think men will do? Don't be surprised when men cheat. Men want to fuck women. Crass? Sure. Honest? You bet. Now layer on societal norms, and civility, and marriage and all that other thin sheen of what's moral and ethical, and you have our world. You think that's bullshit? You're deluding yourself. But that's just my humble opinion. I'm probably wrong, but that's how my mind works.

After a series of girlfriends, rub and tugs, and the odd escort for FS, I found myself in a dry spell. I bounced from MA to SP, looking for connections and knowing I wouldn't find it. I have three ex-girlfriends who still love me, and I love them, but we agreed it was too much for us emotionally to continue our relationships, and we mutually agreed to split to save our sanity and marriages. So I looked for the same kind of connection with sex workers. And I was failing and getting depressed about it.

I was browsing through escort classifieds sitting on my deck, smoking and drinking a Corona. It was my normal evening routine, and I was pleasantly excited reading the ads and happily comfortable. My wife Janice was somewhere inside the house, doing something, and I didn't care what. We led our separate lives even at home. But on my deck: this was my little happy place.

I saw an ad, and the headline caught my attention: "Looking for connection? Pick me." I opened the ad and saw the body of a woman about twenty years younger than me. She called herself Dawn. She wasn't a spinner, but she was thin with almost exaggerated assets. A stunning pair of D boobs and a round butt perfect in every way. She had brown hair, and I loved brown hair. She was new to the scene and new to the city having come from somewhere out west of the country. She promised all the usual things, all covered, her price was in the normal range, and she did in calls only. Then I noticed something strange: she offered a thirty-minute pre-session to repeat select clients. I had never seen that before. Her number was listed, and I was intrigued.

I looked for reviews, but no one had left any. I scratched my head. There are a lot of scammer escorts out there and normally I never see a SP without having read a positive review beforehand. I was nervous but knew I was already leaning toward seeing this woman.

Every Friday, I have the afternoon off. Once a month, I pick a Friday and hit the MAs. The cost for a MA is usually the same as a SP. There is almost no risk with MAs, but with SPs you never know who just had the girl and what shit he carried with him. I rarely used SPs. But this woman called to me in some way I couldn't pinpoint. She was the full package and her looks were exactly my type; maybe that was it. I chuckled. Tomorrow was Friday.

I unlocked my phone and entered her number into the message app.

[Hi, Dawn, I'm Paul. I am interested in a 1 hr session this Friday at 1pm. I'm 50, fit, clean, and a gentleman]

I sent the text and put the phone down. Normally it can take quite a bit of time to get a response. Escorts are busy people. To my surprise, my phone buzzed with a reply.

[Hi, Paul. Nice to hear from you. I have pencilled you in for Friday at 1pm. Do you have time to chat first?]

I blinked at my phone. Escorts rarely wanted to just chat. They see it as a time waster with just bullshit dialogue. They wanted you in, fucked, and out with money in their fist. She must be new if she wanted to just chat. I was happy, though, I love chatting in text.

[Hi, wow, fast reply. I would love to chat if you want. How was your day?]

[Nice. It was good]

[great]

[Can I ask you why you want to meet with me?]

I could envisage her in her apartment sitting at her phone and waiting for my reply. I sensed this was a unique screening process and one I wasn't familiar with. I'm a pretty confident fellow, and that doesn't mean I swagger around or any bullshit like that. It means I know who I am, where I have weakness, and that the only opinions which matter to me are from people I admire, or like. I don't try to impress anymore. People will either accept me or reject me and my life will carry on regardless, but hopefully with a new friend.

I typed a quick response. [Simple answer: I like that you mention connection-that's what I'm looking for. And I am intrigued by the 30min pre-session for repeat clients. Never seen that]

[I see. Well that's good. I would like to ask you a series of questions, is that all right? Nothing will be for personal information, just personal opinions on things]

I looked at my full beer and full pack of smokes. I was good. [Sure. Happy to]

[Great! This will take about ten minutes. Don't tell me personal things like pet names, phone numbers or stuff like that. Just tell me your response. What you would do. Ready?]

[Ready]

Dawn proceeded to ask me a series of questions. She would give me a scenario and ask what my reaction would be. This was everything from finding a cat in a tree, to finding a bag of money. I'd done these kinds of tests before, both in business and at the start of video RPGs during character creation. It was fun. I answered as honestly as I could. After an hour it was over, and my beer was gone.

[okay thanks-one sec]

I waited.

[okay wow. I have you scheduled for 1pm of Friday. One hour, that right?]

[yes. So did I pass?]

[yes. See you tomorrow. Really nice meeting you Paul. Looking forward to our session]

[me too-I'll text you 10min before. Where are you located]

She told me and said goodnight.

* * *

I went to sleep thinking about her and just how strange this had been already. The next day I went to work and left at noon. I drove to her location with fifteen minutes to spare. It was a residential area with all the typical similar homes and lawns and trees. I parked a few houses down and texted her. She told me to come up early, and I got out of my car and went to her front door.

She opened the door when I walked up and I got my first look at her in person. She was cute with perfect makeup, large brown eyes, short brown hair and an honest smile. I smiled back and then looked her over. She stood a few inches shorter than me. She was thin but not overly thin. She wore a thin white blouse that influenced her breasts. I could see their shape; they were like tear drops where the main flesh of the breasts dangles free and juts forward. Her tits pouted and her nipples were prominent and shadowed against the white fabric. She wore tight jeans with a noticeable space between her legs at her crotch. I was attracted right away. She was gorgeous by any standard. She was exactly my type. Wow, I thought.

I realised she was checking me out as well. She looked me over, stopping at my groin, my stomach, and then lingering on my face. She decided something and her face lit up. It was a genuine smile, and I guessed I passed some other kind of test with her.

I stepped up to the door, smiling, and she moved to the side to let me in. She closed the door behind us, turned, and hugged me hard. "So good to meet you, Paul." She pulled back her head and looked into my eyes for a moment and then kissed me soundly. Her tongue touched my lips and when I parted my mouth, I touched her tongue with mine. It was sensual, not hesitant, and it felt like we had been kissing for years. I love it when a SP starts her sessions this way. It's the best ice breaker.

She broke the kiss and squeezed me against her, briefly. "You're a nice kisser, Paul."

"So are you, Dawn. That was lovely." I liked using her name and liked hearing mine from her.

"Good," she said and moved back and took my hand. She pulled me into her living room. I looked around and saw how lovely the house was. It was tastefully decorated and nothing seemed cheap or box store. She brought me into her living room and sat me down on the couch. She sat near me and twisted herself to face me. She kept her hand in mine. I noticed she wasn't wearing socks or shoes. Her feet were pedicured and dainty. Just like her. I looked up at her and smiled. I admired her fantastic facial features and scanned her body. Her breasts were stunningly exotic behind the sheer fabric of her blouse.

"I'm so glad you could fit me in."

She arched an eyebrow. "I only take two clients a day. One in the morning and one in the afternoon. You're my only client today, Paul."

I must have looked surprised because she laughed. It was beautiful laugh, rich and real. It reached her eyes, and she looked stunning for a moment. She fitted my most perfect example of how a woman should look and sound. I was suddenly very nervous. This was the type of woman I wanted. I wanted her to like me and want me. I was worried I was going to seriously fuck this up. I recognised the hypocrite in me.

"Don't look so surprised. I'm very selective."

"That test you made me take?"

She nodded. "It's odd, I admit, but it's a personality test. It was my thesis at university. It's used all over the world now. Mine is the original and much better than what you can find online. It rarely fails me."

"What does it test?"

"Whether we will be a match or not."

"I see."

"Do you? I screen my clients with it. I only want to be with men I can connect with. It's important to me. I'm new to this business and honestly, the thought of being with strange men repulses me. I only want to meet with men who match me. I need to connect at some level." She paused and looked at me. "I think we might."

"I hope so. It's what I'm looking for, to be honest. Sex is only good when you connect."

"Exactly. So what do you do for a living?"

I told her and she seemed interested. I asked her where she came from and she told me. She had a good life out West but wanted to come East to our city. She had a good friend here, and she was helping her with some issues. I didn't ask.

We ended up chatting for a long time. I was relaxed and sitting back on the couch. I lost track of the time and when I remembered we only had an hour session, I looked at my watch. I loved talking with her, but I needed intimacy, too. It was why I was here.

She must've read my expression, because she leaned in and kissed me again. Her hands roamed on my body and I tentatively touched her back. We started kissing in earnest and my hands roamed. I had to touch her breasts, so I did, sliding my hand around to her stomach and slowly rising it up to cup her breast through her blouse. There is something primal about touching a woman's breasts for a man. If she is responsive to it, and welcomes it, a large part of the male brain feels like it has won something significant. You feel the woman is yours for the taking. She made appreciative sounds, and I smiled into her mouth. Her breasts felt gorgeous. So soft, full and with weight. I caressed a nipple, and felt it stiffen. She kissed me harder and pulled me toward her. Our legs found a way to mesh together, with her leg over mine and I felt a strong stirring of desire. I cupped both breasts and squeezed them, luxuriating in their exquisite feel.

She broke the kiss panting and held my hands to her breasts with hers. "Wow," she gasped. "We're off to a great start. I'm so wet, Paul. Want to go upstairs?"

I nodded. This was already the best session I had ever had. I was excited to see where this was going.

"Do you need a shower?"

"No, I'm good. Squeaky clean."

"Okay. Sit there a second. Let me show you my body."

She stood up and stared at me. I could see lust in her eyes and was surprised to see just how real it was. Our session was having an effect on her too. I felt happy. She was unlike any SP I had ever met.

She slowly unbuttoned her blouse and pulled it off. Her breasts dangled free, and they looked better in the flesh than I had imagined. They were perfect globes extending out from her chest and suspended in the air. Her nipples were large and excited and rose high off her. She rubbed her hands over them and squeezed them. A little smile touched the corners of her mouth. "You look so attentive," she said. "I like that."

She opened the clasp at the top of her jeans and unzipped them. I always loved how jeans on women have such a small zipper. I saw the bare flesh of the area above her mound and knew I had to taste her. She turned around and looked back at me over her shoulder. Slowly she wiggled herself out of her jeans, bending over slightly as she did it. She revealed her ass one tiny tug at a time. She wore no panties. She leaned over, dragging her jeans down to her thighs. Her ass was magnificent. Not a mark or blemish; smooth and firm. More importantly I could see her asshole and the wet lips of her pussy. She had left a little hair, dark brown and looking more like soft fur. She slid her jeans down and bending over completely she looked back at me and ran a finger through her pussy lips and then popped her finger into her mouth. Jesus, I thought. That was amazing to watch. I would love to see her do that again.

She giggled, stood up and flopped on the couch near me. Her legs were spread naturally, and I could see her pussy lips part ever so slightly. Her breasts swayed and then steadied in the way only firm breasts can. "Your turn, Paul."

"Pardon?"

"Get up and strip for me. Go ahead, I wanna watch."

I was suddenly nervous. This woman was amazing, but I had never stripped for a woman before. She arched her eyebrows and made a shooing motion.

I stood up, uncertain.

"Make it good," she said huskily. "I need this."

I nodded and swallowed. I had no idea what to do. Do I just shuck my clothes and then stand there? Do I do a dance?

"You can do it," she said. "Just take them off. Slowly."

I pulled my shirttails out of my jeans. I was only wearing a golf shirt. I undid the one button at the top. She clapped, and I felt encouraged. I pulled my shirt up and left it below my pectorals.

"More!" she cried laughing.

I smiled and lifted my shirt up and pulled it over my head and off. I flung it at her and she caught it smiling. I wet my fingers and rubbed them over my hairy nipples. She whistled.

"I should do that!" she exclaimed.

"Yes, you should," I admonished her.

"Pants!" she cried.

I laughed, getting into it and starting to enjoy myself. She was fun, this was fun. I undid the top button of my jeans and pulled down the zipper. I grabbed the top of my underwear and gave it a tug upwards. She grinned at me and leaned a little forward. I turned around and repeated her performance, pulling my jeans down to the floor. I wasn't very flexible, and I made it look awkward because it was. She whistled again and feeling carefree I stuck out my ass, covered in boxer briefs, right at her.

She darted forward and bit my ass and I shrieked and jumped up. It wasn't a hard bite, it just shocked me. I looked at my ass and could see the wet marks of her teeth. She grinned wider. "If you are going to stick it in my face, I'm gonna bite it."

I turned to look at her. "My cock is not going anywhere near you then!" I laughed in case she thought I was serious.

"No, no," she said smiling. "I only bite asses. Your cock is safe with me."

"Good to know."

"Show me!" she said and clapped her hands, her breasts bouncing. "Show me your cock, Paul!"

I slipped my thumbs under my waistband. My cock was already semi-hard and making a sizeable tent in the front of my underwear. This was exciting and my blood raced. She looked so eager, staring at my groin in anticipation. I wanted to show her my cock, I could see she wanted to see it. I slowly slid the waistband of my underwear down over my shaft, down over the head, and my cock sprung forward. I dropped my underwear, and they fell to my ankles. I stood straight up, stark naked, in front of a woman I didn't know, with my cock pointing straight at her. It was liberating.

She stared intently at it not saying anything. I wasn't uncomfortable, I was excited. My cock surged under her gaze and grew in length and girth. I'm circumcised and of average length, but a little thick. All my girlfriends have adored my cock. They all said so, and I believe them. I have a nice cock.