A Fairy and A Prostitute


I’ve come to call some of my first dates fairies. It has nothing to do with their sexual orientation, but rather that they fly in, sprinkle some pixie dust of insight or knowledge, and then I let them flutter away. It’s usually not their physical appearance that attracts me, but rather something about their life experiences urges me to see them in person.

This is exactly how it was for my first fairy.

38, 5’10”, lives in Sacramento, widowed with a gf in an open relationship, dark skin, thick dark hair and eyebrows, sultry eyes, big wide smile, was a bartender for awhile, now in tech, possible photoshopping on his sexy pics cause his real body looked like he had once been fat.

He was one of the first dates I went on with a guy who had a gf in an open relationship. We made plans for the two of them to come to Napa for dinner. I was nervous and excited about the possibility of my first threesome.

“I have bad news. We have to cancel for tonight. She had an appointment she had forgot about and it is something she can’t miss. I apologize. It sucks cause I’ve been excited about it. BUT we promise we will make it up to you. Actually we are both on very flexible schedules so if there is another night that will work let us know.”

“Ok no worries, hmm well I’m guessing it would be hard for you guys to come to Napa during the week?”

“Well….since she has her appointment tonight I have no other plans. Want to still go out?”

“Sure! If we click we can talk about having having her join too or not, whatever feels natural is fine with me.”

We met for drinks and snacks at a casual restaurant in downtown Napa. His face was wide and dark. He was quick to laugh and that, plus his wide smile, made me feel comfortable immediately.

He told me about his wife dying in their early 30s. How much she was his soulmate and partner. How lost he had been for so long until he found his current gf, who was no stranger to open relationships. She had lived most of her adult life that way. He felt like he found home with her. Always having the idea in his mind of being free to love many people in many ways.

Fairy dust.

He told me about Feeld, a dating app for couples and kinks. This is where I ended up meeting The Worshipper and The Couple.

He also told me about “The Ethical Slut”, a book about navigating open relationships.

Fairy dust ball.

That almanbahis book was a revelation, helping to solidify my muddy, pre-formed thoughts about love and relationships that continue to evolve. More on that in another post.

The intellectual connection I was having with him was amazing even though the physical connection was just so-so. But I was so turned on by the conversation I invited him back to my apartment. I also wanted to take him for a test drive before meeting the gf, so to speak.

He took me from behind as I lay flat on the bed. Pushing my hands up against my headboard. Pushing repeatedly. My ass smashed by his lower stomach as his cock slid out and all the way in, as deep as it could go. It slid easily through my wet cunt.

I turned my head to the side so I could see him thrusting. I not only felt his tight grip on my hips, but now I could see his fingers digging in to me, pulling me back and forth over his hard cock.

He came and collapsed on me. Turned me over and immediately went down on me.

It didn’t take me long to follow. Literally dripping wet, his tongue glided over my clit. As soon as he started making light, fast circles over it, I went over the top.

“Oh my god! Oh my godddd…fuck me…mmmm…oh my fucking god!”

We fell asleep almost instantaneously. He left in the morning. An hour later even before I got out of bed.

“You are awesome! That was awesome. You looked so hot when you came. I wish I was still touching your body right now. We will need to do it again soon.”

“Thanks! And thanks for coming to Napa and treating me to a fun night!”

He and I chatted over the next few months. About a cocktail I was trying to make out of a Thai Chile Jelly I made. About the “Ethical Slut.” He was a good fairy to me.

I told him about this blog I started called LemonThatsDifferent.com. The first guy I had felt comfortable to tell.

“I am sex positive and if you had a different partner every night I would celebrate it! I have negative jealously.

Ok so first off, I really enjoy reading your sex stories. Not jealous in the least bit. They turn me on, and even more so because I’ve been with you. My gf and I tell each other stories like those about our other escapades in detail like that all the time and sometimes in even more detail.  Second off, I have a bunch of notes and critiques almanbahis giriş and suggestions about the writing, you personally, and the blog in general, but maybe we should do that in person as there is a lot to go over. Third off, after reading that you got me hard as a rock right now. You have me imagining my own story with you. I’m lying here naked in bed imaging me ripping off your panties and pushing you down on your bed and pressing your face in the pillow as I fuck you from behind.”

We had a second date, again in Napa, about six weeks later to continue the conversation.

“Italian food will hit the spot, but honestly I have been craving the taste of you all day.”

“You remember what I taste like??”

“I do 100%. You’re fucking delicious.”

We talked about monogamy. About what I was reading in the “Ethical Slut.” About the acronyms on “Feeld.” WTF is “soft swap,” “full swap,” “GGG”? It felt like the first day of school. He was a patient and interested teacher.

I had gotten so worked up at all the sex talk I could feel my wet panties.

We went right back to my apartment and jumped on each other. Rushing to unbutton, unzip, untie.

I finished first and laid naked on my back on the bed. He stood at the side, grabbed my calves, turned me toward him and pulled me to the edge. With my legs dangling on either side of his, he grabbed my ass and thrust in to me. The feeling of his hard cock inside me surged an electric pulse of pleasure from my pussy, up my legs, over my chest and arms and to my brain. I arched and gasped.

Again, he finished first, withdrew and got on his knees at the bedside.

The next morning he left early.

“Your body is fucking sexy btw it’s just on my mind driving home.”

We texted periodically over the next three months trying to coordinate a time for the three of us to get together again. My work sent me to a two-day conference in Sac so I reached out again.

“Hey, I’ll be in Sac for a conf mon and tues…are you and your lady free for a drink or dinner mon night by chance??”

“Yes, we’ll take you to dinner!”

“Should be a fun night!”

Day of.

“She is still able to join us for dinner, but she has a late appointment afterwards. ☹️ We will see you soon!”

That’s curious. What could she have to do after dinner on a Monday night? And I guess a threesome almanbahis yeni giriş was out for the evening…fuck!

They were late. I was at the bar when they walked in. He looked his normal self. Well-groomed. Casually well-dressed. Wide grin.

She looked like a bag lady. Literally she had 3-4 shopping bags, stuffed with shit. Her clothes, hair, face, and mannerisms were all disheveled.

We sat at a booth. Me across from them. Her on the outside.

I order Pinot. He a cocktail. Her a double gin and tonic. Her bags piled up some between them, some on the floor under the table.

We ordered dinner, and started casual conversation catching up on the past few months. They went to Idaho to visit family over Christmas. Yada, yada, yada.

All the while I was distracted by her behavior. Nervous. Twitchy. Like she had never sat a dinner table in public before.

She got up, grabbed her bags, and moved toward the ladies room. He and I continued chatting, and chatting, and chatting. Probably 15 minutes went by. Dinner arrived and she was still in the bathroom.

She came back in different clothes. Then she dropped the bomb.

He asked her to talk about her experiences with polyamory. She pulled out her phone, opened an app, and showed me her profile. I didn’t recognize the app. Her pics were pretty well naked, and there were a lot of acronyms. And a rate.

She said this was the second app she was on. The first one was shut down.

I held the phone and my wine glass in opposite hands. I stared at the screen. It got blurry as did their words. I didn’t want to look up.

She was a mother fucking prostitute!

My face was straight, but my mind was silly string.

It all came together, and I was pissed. I can’t believe I fucked this bastard twice, trusted him with the contents of my blog at the time, and he didn’t have the fucking pussy to tell me his gf was a prostitute. Did he think I was going to be sex positive now?

She ate her food like a horse. I maintained my composure and sat politely through dinner. She said she needed to go, took her food in a box, and he rushed to pay.

Outside the restaurant, I talked before they could. I said thank you, gave her a hug, and then him before he could suggest we go for another drink or back to his place or my hotel.

On the way to my car, I was saddened. Maybe she really did love it, and maybe they enjoyed telling each other about they sexcapades. Guess I was blind.

However, my mood quickly turnaround after realizing both times with him I played it safe and that my last battery of tests were clean. On to the next fairy.

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