Boredom has been tugging at me like a strange ache which refuses to let go. The days have been filled with a sharp cold and my will has dissolved into a kind of lazy melancholy. If you would of asked me a year ago- I would have told you that there was no way I could suffer from boredom. I would have told you that people who are bored lack true wonder for life and that I am fully occupied in my life just sitting by a window and watching the clouds drift by. Boredom had no grasp upon me then, but now a year later it is threatening to put its nappy little hands around my neck- and cut off the air supply.
It is my belief that boredom causes men and woman to do certain things that normally we may not do. We want to feel alive again, and are desperate for anything that will make us feel this way. So I did what I do best, I called a very attractive escort and told her to meet me at my parents house. It was time for me to take a small vacation.
My parents were out of town for a few more days and they lived in a rather decadent home not to far from where I am struggling to live. The add that I responded to on the Internet said “XXX Erotic Massage By Young Nympho….p.s. no full service.” This was perfect for me since I was uninterested in the sex part but wanted some small element of a sexual encounter. I was basically horny and wanted to see a young beautiful woman in the nude. If I could get her to take a shower and let me watch, even better. I had been stuck in a world lately that was heavy in disappointment and failure. After getting sick I was plagued by the what am I doing with my life? syndrome. This ridiculous blog that I keep repelled me like blue cheese and I was in need of an erotic holiday.
I arrived at my parents home with enough time to get the place comfortable and looking like it belonged to me. I took down a lot of the pictures and changed into my fathers silk bathrobe. Then directly at ten p.m. she promptly rang the doorbell. I was shaking a bit because of the anxiety that always seems to overpower me when I am about to do something that maybe I should not be doing. What life is worth living if you are not constantly breaking the boundaries that you have set up around yourself? I opened the door and before me was one of the most beautiful women I had ever beheld with my eyes.
“Wow, what a beautiful home!!” she said with her hands over her mouth, making her way through the marble and mirror filled entry way. I took her long blue coat from her, under which she was wearing a one piece very tight fitted blue dress that stopped right beneath her butt. She took off her heels and allowed her long brown hair to fall down by her shoulders. “So this is your house,” she asked. I nodded my head in the affirmative. “Wow, you must make a lot of money?” “I have my days,” I said knowing full well that I only had less than a thousand dollars left in my bank account. I showed her into the sitting room where I had lit a fire and had a glass of vintage port waiting for her. “Oh thank you but I do not drink, I am allergic.” I could relate I told her because it seems like lately whenever I drink I get palpitations and chest pains for the entire night. “Ouch,” she said.
“So what do you got on your mind?” she asked me curiously. “What do you mean,” I said surprised by her question.” “You know, what do you want me to do for you?” she said crossing her legs and letting me notice that she was not wearing underwear. I always felt uncomfortable about this question because I was afraid that my reply may make the women feel as if I could be a pervert. You see, most men want to have sex- but I just like seeing the girls naked and maybe orgasming by my own hand. When I tried to explain this to the escort, whose name was Rain, she could not of been more willing. And she suggested that I take a shower with her to get comfortable.
The hour we spent together could not have gone away quicker. We showered together and then I watched her petite yet substantive body dance around my parents bedroom and mimic acts of orgasmic bliss upon their bed. She at one point even did a head stand while playing with herself, followed by a back flip right into my lap. I was like a kid in a candy store and there was no trace of my boredom to be found.
A few days later my parents returned. This morning I received a phone call from my mother who was in a very frantic state. “I think your father is having an affair. After all I have done for him, the ungrateful son of a bitch is having his way with younger slutty girls!!” I tried to interject. “Mom…mom, what happened….calm down and tell me what happened?” Once she was able to calm her fury she told me that some strange women by the name of Rain had just come to the house and told her that she was here the other night and left a very valuable earing in the bathroom. My stomach dropped. “She was not older than twenty five and I know your father likes them petite brunettes with poppy personalities, and all this after we took that wonderful vacation together in India and shared so much love together.” My mother was now in tears.
I did what I could. I told my mother not to worry, that my father would never do anything to intentionally hurt her. “Oh I know he would that son of a bitch,” she kept responding. I was unable to confess my crime for sheer embarrassment of telling my mother that I had called a prostitute over to their home. The guilt of admitting this to my mom is too great. So now my father is sleeping in a motel, furious about the false accusations that are being leveled against him, and I am sitting here at home, uncertain what to do next.