Sydney Erotic Pleasures for Gentlemen

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Sensual Erotic Stories

These erotic stories may have more than just a grain of truth....

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The Classmate

My post-grad business studies were pretty non-eventful socially. Unlike the relaxed times of being an undergrad with parties, the uni bar and weekend ski trips, this was mature age students with families, demanding jobs and no time to play. My Financial Management class however was a bit different.

As an elective, it was a 101 class for people with no financial background, so it tended to have the younger members of the class like me, unencumbered by kids and 70 hour a week jobs. There I met Angela in a coffee break. She had Greek parents which explained her olive skin and buxom hour-glass shape. Despite her working in accounting, she confessed she was really struggling with the concepts of net present values and internal rates of return. Despite my science background, to me it was just maths, and I found her seeking me out each lecture so I could help her with the in-class exercises. I suggested she come over one afternoon to study together and she readily agreed.

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The Masseuse - Candy Part 1

An erotic story - an interview with a Chinese masseuse juggling studies and a job she loves.

Candy is a 22 year old Chinese girl who adores her job as a masseuse, but constantly fears one of her fellow students discovering her secret profession. On one hand she looks forward to graduating in Economics and gaining professional employment, but she knows she will miss the excitement of having an alter-ego as a popular masseuse.

Interviewer: How did you start in massage?
Candy: I was in need of an income so I looked through jobs section of The Daily Telegraph and the colour of the adult services section stood out. It was never something I had even thought about, but suddenly the thought of taking my clothes off and wanking off guys got me wet. I did some internet searching and found a shop in the city, away from the campus. It had a nice web page, I had an interview, and I started the next day.

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The Masseuse - LiLi

An erotic story - an interview with a Chinese masseuse working in fear of disclosure.

LiLi is a 24 year old Chinese masseuse managing to keep her job a secret from her family.

Interviewer: Thanks for talking to us LiLi. Is your name like Lilly or LeeLee?
LiLi: Thanks for asking. I prefer like LeeLee.

I: Tell us about how you got started in massage.
L: I had an Aussie boyfriend who was cheating on me at massage parlours, I found out because a girl I knew who worked there had seen him a few times. I had no knowledge of them before that, and I talked to her about it and it sounded exciting, and a good way to have some private revenge against him. So for a few months, I was still seeing him while I was jerking off multiple men behind his back. It felt good to do that, but after a while I decided I didn't want a boyfriend any more, I had hundreds!

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The Hitchhiker

A family holiday to Fiji provided an out-of-the-blue dalliance with a traveller.

We had 10 days planned at a lovely resort, and my wife had agreed to me spending a day to go see a customer a few hours away to try to seal a deal we had been negotiating for many years. The typical sleepy island approach and numerous staff changes meant closing the sale was very slow.

I arranged a driver for the day and we headed off early. The trip to the site was uneventful, chatting about politics and pussy, with me commenting how I'd love to sample one of the local dark-skinned lovelies but didn't see it happening. The driver said he could take me to a brothel, but I imagined lots of overweight matronly women and I passed. The site meeting was promising, and my driver was in a chatty mood as we headed back to the resort. We rounded a corner and I spotted a pretty young woman on the side of the road. "Hitchhiker?" I asked. "No, waiting for bus" he replied. "Pull Over" I said, "We'll give her a lift".
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The Thrill Seeker

A risk-taker pushes the boundaries of decorum

My marriage had ended but we were still fighting over who would leave the house, so we were stuck together, with our two young children. While my wife had snaffled the master bedroom upstairs and kept an eye on the elder child at night, I slept in the guest room downstairs, next to the younger child. I kept my sexual frustrations at bay with frequent visits to massage parlours when I was travelling around for work, but only about 1 in 10 girls would offer FS, and what I really craved was taking a petite young thing doggy style and rooting her slowly, enjoying it at my leisure. 

I struck up a few conversations on Tinder, but the issue of hosting was always the deal-breaker - invariably I was matching with horny disaffected wives cheating on their husbands, needing a man who could host them during the day, or at night when he was out. As my wife's movements were unpredictable, I did not want the shit fight that would arise if she came home and found me shagging somebody, even though we were irreparably separated. One night however, it all got funky.

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The Traveller

A pretty girl in distress discovers her inner slut

WeChat had become a regular source of pickups when I was in the city; there were often attractive girls from China on holiday looking for a short-term Aussie boyfriend to practice their English with, and to spread their legs far away from the scrutiny of their conservative parents back in China. A little mandarin placed on my profile and I looked like a man of the world!

Ming was like the others, a conservative photo taken on The Great Wall of China not giving any hints as whether she was up for fun or not. I sent her a 'hey pretty girl' message and got no reply for a few days, and had actually forgotten about her when a simple "hi" response came back.

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The Niece

Sometimes it's hard to choose between experience and youth.

I was thrilled when an Asian massage clinic opened up in the small cluster of shops where we rented an upstairs office for our small IT company.

My two colleagues Matt and Rob were equally as depraved as I was, but while they were drawn to the constant procession of new pretty young things, I was fascinated by the elusive, even aloof, more mature-age manager Iris. Over time I found that she was from Malaysia, was divorced and single, but additional information was hard to extract. I often asked her for a massage, but her polite response was always, "Darling, you know I'm retired, these girls also have big boobs, they look after you". And they did, but it was usually Iris I was thinking of when one of her eager girls was stroking me to a climax. Such a tease, she made no attempt to disguise her stunning figure in a tight clinical uniform, much like a nurse. I suspect this was to give the place an air of respectability as 'the council' was a constant threat of impediment to the rivers of gold to be eased from the pockets of horny men.

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The Cousin

A trip OS to meet the family becomes deliciously incestuous.

I first met my cousin Gwyn when I travelled through The Republic of Ireland after finishing university in 2002. When I say cousin, I don't mean first cousin, but some more distant connection - we shared a great grandparent, or perhaps great great. In any case, it was my grandfather who emigrated from Galway to Australia in the 1920s. His brother visited in the 1970s, keeping the connection between the families intact, so that when the first antipodean, me, was looking for adventure, the distant extended family welcomed me with open arms. They lived in a quiet village a few km out of town, a wonderful place to stay and enjoy being away from big cities.

In 2002, Gwyn was pregnant with her second child, taking leave from her senior role in an accounting practice. Her diplomat husband Iain was climbing the career ladder in Whitechapel with the British Government, and with their eldest son just 3, they had the classic nuclear family underway. We became very close friends over the course of my gap year travelling around the regions, and kept in touch by regular email upon my return.

Fast forward 8 years when I visited again and things seemed much the same, except that Iain was frequently away on the continent attending meetings in Brussels, regularly leaving Gwyn alone with the kids on Sunday night, returning late Friday night. They were then a very family tight unit over the weekend, with football and ballet lessons in between dinner parties.

Gwyn had always been very sexually active as a young single, and the absence of her husband during the week had gradually led to to a nasty habit of picking up randoms on nights out with the girls - generally targeting travelling businessmen with a hotel room available. It was an open secret amongst her close friends that she led an active, if promiscuous, sex life, and her husband, probably fucking a string of pretty interns while away on the continent, had no idea his wife was banging strangers just as often. I had no idea of course that my much loved cousin was the village slut.

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