Mature Whore Wife

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Mature Whore Wife

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SmugMug + Flickr .


Connecting people through photography.


My beautiful wife Rhonda, headed back to our stateroom after a night out in an evening gown on a recent cruise vacation Fall 2010.
Here I am looking giddy as a school girl!
I LOVE this dress! The picture doesn't do it justice..
I didn't even know he took this photo!
The title says it all! I am the luckiest girl in the world to have such a handsome adoring husband.
She was walking past as we were taking a few photos and wanted to join in!
This is our embarkment photo taken just prior to boarding the ship!
This is how she was dressed that day at Kohl's. Story can be found in the Real Housewives of Flicker group. I had posted several in the Adventures of a Slut group, but for some reason I can longer longer join or post in that group.



My Wife Wants to Be a Whore … And She Wants Me to Be Her Pimp!





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The intimate, the harrowing, the sweet, the surprising — the human.
Because if you don’t, 20 other willing participants will.
EUGENE, SIR: My wife has just let me know that she has a whore obsession. We have three kids and have been married since she was 23 and I was 25. She is 45 now and says it had been building for a while but everything about it turns her on. She wanted to tell me because the fantasy was getting overpowering. Not so that I could stop her but because she needed to explain why she had been so bored in bed the last few years. To this end she wants me to be her “pimp.” Find men for her to have sex with. Charge them. She has suggested doing this through Craigslist or Eros Guide. If I say no, I’m afraid she’ll do it anyway. If I say yes I am concerned about the repercussions. Legal and otherwise. What should I do? – Name withheld
Standing between someone and a long-held fantasy is a tough place to be. While on the one hand it’s terrible to think of a fantasy going unrealized, on the other hand your concerns are well placed. Prostitution last year was a $186 billion industry on the backs of about 13,265,900 prostitutes. Women associated with the trade are arrested much more frequently than men, assorted studies show . Which means whether you’re getting busted for pimping or she’s getting busted for whoring, the justice system is, in all likelihood, going to be part of your future. 
But these are legal concerns and don’t get to the root of the emotional/relational aspect of what your wife has told you, something that, to my ears, doesn’t sound like it upsets you much and it probably shouldn’t. I mean the last few years of lackluster sex would be enough to open your mind to much that your mind wouldn’t have been open to before. How to handle it is what you’re asking and my suggestion is this: Go to your local swingers’ group and advertise your kink. Under the purview of play and the money not being the primary motive you might be able to avoid legal backlashes. I mean if you’re not collecting cash you’re not a pimp even if the whoring seems the same. 
Try this along with whatever seems more comfortable: You being present or you not being present. This will either improve your marriage or kill it but if it doesn’t improve it, it was going to die anyway. It’s a bold giant step into doing something different and adventurous — and it’s dangerous from any number of different viewpoints. But it seems like you’ve reached a crisis point anyway and something needs to be done, so why not this? Conceal it from the kids like you do the rest of your sex life, be super circumspect about it and hope for the best.
EUGENE, SIR: I had deep suspicions that my boyfriend (we live together) was cheating. Mostly on account of finding underwear around that wasn’t mine. I’m not proud of this but I set up a camera so I could see what was happening at our place when I’m not there. He teaches and gets home from work first. I discovered that this is his underwear. I mean it’s women’s underwear but that’s what he is wearing. Other things too. Whole outfits. He’s alone when doing this. Not so fun to watch but not something to end the relationship over. I want to know how to get this out in the open so we don’t have to have secrets. – Colleen
I think you mean you want to know how to get this out in the open without revealing the creepy presence of home surveillance, yes? Since if you reveal you’ve been secretly home taping, it opens up a whole can of worms that causes what you found out to be overshadowed by HOW you found out. And how you found out — by hiding teeny tiny cameras all over the house you shared with one other person — no matter what the motivation, is all harm and foul. 
Relationships can be a dirty business and sloppiness regarding the women’s underwear he might be wearing could also be a harbinger of other sloppiness to come. So call what you did dirty due diligence — had he not started it by leaving his flimsy underthings hither and yon, you’d have never gone down the Inspector Gadget road to begin with. 
But how to get this out in the open? Well, there are two paths you can go by: Admit to the hidden camera as how you found out or don’t admit to the camera but do admit to the finding of the panties.
The former could also be divided into telling the truth about the camera or telling a lie connected to needing it for “security” reasons or something else similarly threadbare. I’ll never advise you to lie so if you tell the truth you’ll have a lot of heavy lifting to do since it might be argued that he left the underwear around to spark a discussion, not to incur the creep factor of home surveillance, and you may lose this one.
However, if you go with the technically accurate though parsed truth — you found his underwear — this lets you broach the topic without admitting to malfeasance and the discussions can begin. And I’d guess you know that most studies show that this particular kink is not an automatic indicator of homosexuality, if you were even tempted to think that. Moreover there are great resources out there, like Transformation , where he can go as deep as you and he are interested in going.
In any case, asking about the underwear would be a necessary first step and the least loaded and possibly most successful way to go. 

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A WOMAN who became a sex worker at age 52 at an exclusive brothel for “mature” ladies tells how it “absolutely changed” her life.
I WAS divorced for one year before I started as a mature-aged sex worker.
I started “work” at the age of 52, I’m 58 now. I worked for two years in Sydney (only on the weekends) at an exclusive brothel for “mature” ladies. It absolutely changed my life.
My husband was terrible at sex, we were together for nearly three decades but he was never sexy to me.
I was attracted to him as a fabulous person, as someone who was like my Rock of Gibraltar. My father was a violent womaniser and this guy was the complete opposite; he was amazing, everyone loved him.
But by the time I was in my early 50s, I’d had enough after such a long time. The sex dwindled off and in the last five years we didn't have sex at all.
So when it was all over and done with, I was sitting at home and the thought of prostitution entered my mind.
“I always wanted to try that,” I thought. And that was it.
I’d always had this curiosity about it, like what goes on? Who are these people? So I decided I’d go in, see what it was about and if I didn’t like it I could always leave.
Becoming a sex worker was just something else I really wanted to try. It was liberating, uber fun and I was paid amazing money as I became the top lady and much sought after.
I was the best actress and no matter what sort of man I saw (hardcore criminal bikies, doctors, TV personalities, “not-quite” 18-year-olds) I made them feel amazing. I became a sexy character that I invented.
I have never had a single stretch mark, I’ve always been very slim and had naturally large breasts. So it was the perfect storm (in a DD cup) for me — as I found my niche there for a couple of years.
For some ungodly reason my body was perfect as was my face and I learnt to act like a sexy vixen after a lifetime of mistrusting and even loathing men. I had the ultimate power over them and it was perfect.
I didn’t need the money, but it was extra cash and I was having a great time, rather than watching Dr Phil or Oprah at home.
Men have always flocked to me since I was a young teenager but I’d been afraid of them and their advances. Being a hooker gave me the power over them that changed my life.
The day I decided to become a sex worker, I took myself over to a mature ladies brothel in Chatswood, in Sydney’s north. I was all dolled up, and when I walked in, they asked if I’d done this type of thing before and if I thought I could do it.
I was sh*tting myself but acting confident.
When I started I had NO idea at all about life as a prostitute, but I soon became an expert.
When a client arrives, the ladies line up and you have a couple of minutes to greet them. There’s a lounge and then men are sat there while we try and build an immediate rapport with them.
We were all dolled up to the nines and we flirted like crazy with the men and made them feel as though they were the best thing since sliced bread.
When he’s seen all the women, he makes his choice, and the receptionist takes you to the room.
I didn’t even know how to put a condom on, I had no idea, so my first ever client had to show me. I literally had no idea.
The first couple of weeks you’re working non stop because the guys like the idea that they can teach you, if you’re new.
We would get these hot guys, totally ripped and muscled. They did nothing for me but they thought they were incredible.
Many of us had regular clients that arrived weekly to see us. One of my clients would take viagra and he’d book me for four solid hours, which was wonderful. He was a sad tragedy, very lonely and inept, but harmless.
Young guys in their 20s would ask me out and I’d decline. Can you imagine what we’d look like together?
We all have our ways to tame the wild men that start getting nasty or want to try and get away without wearing a condom. I would smile a lot and slap one on them before they knew what was happening. Many men want sex with no condom and some of the women would take $100 extra and do just that, but not me. Ever.
We all had regular health checks at clinics but for the women that saw many men and didn’t use condoms it’s probably only a matter of time that they get some hideous disease.
I did fall hard for two men (who never knew about each other) and when I left the brothel I continued to see them as boyfriends.
Both are really wonderful men. Businessmen that treated me wonderfully. We always stayed overnight in top glamorous hotels, never at their home, which of course had me asking whether they were married or not. They both emphatically would say no, that they were divorced.
At the beginning of the “appointment”, you’re handed a whole heap of cash. I thought, ‘holy crap’.
We made $300 an hour and if a guy liked you, after the first hour he would get out his credit card and we’d take it to reception to take some more money out of his account. I only usually liked to be with a guy for an hour maximum though, after that I wanted to throttle him!
The owner loved me, but she had a fierce, unpredictable character that saw her feared by all of us.
She would secretly check up on us; She had men come in as clients and try to get information out of me, like would I meet them afterwards for drinks? Dinner? Sex? I smelled a rat straight away and said that I definitely wouldn’t.
Many of the ladies that start at brothels take numbers from men then ask them to come to their own homes/hotel rooms thereby cutting out the brothel.
People have always said, ‘you’re really sexy’, but I was such a prude in my life before the brothel, that it wasn’t until I’d finished working there that I felt sexy.
When I left I knew that it’d changed me so dramatically. I became obsessed with money when I’d always been unmaterialistic, I became fake and hard around the edges which did not sit well with me at all.
But I absolutely don’t regret doing it as I was such a prude and it set me free.
I’m 60 next year, and reflecting on that time I realise it was all an act, you become this other person. I enjoyed it while I was there but looking back, I don’t know who that person was.
Nobody knows about my time in the brothel, I have grandchildren I wouldn’t want to hurt, but I treasure every moment and I still have women friends who work in the industry. (Some of these ladies are architects, artists, magazine editors and ex lawyers).
I live out of Sydney now. I did work for two weeks in another brothel but it was so absolutely horrific that I just ‘snapped out of it’ and never worked in the industry again. That was five years ago.
I now hold down an office job part-time and live quietly.
— As told to Matt Young. On Twitter @MattYoung
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A NOTE ABOUT RELEVANT ADVERTISING: We collect information about the content (including ads) you use across this site and use it to make both advertising and content more relevant to you on our network and other sites. Find out more about our policy and your choices, including how to opt-out. Sometimes our articles will try to help you find the right product at the right price. We may receive payment from third parties for publishing this content or when you make a purchase through the links on our sites.
Nationwide News Pty Ltd © 2022. All times AEDT (GMT +11). Powered by WordPress.com VIP
More stories to check out before you go
A WOMAN who became a sex worker at age 52 at an exclusive brothel for “mature” ladies tells how it “absolutely changed” her life.
I WAS divorced for one year before I started as a mature-aged sex worker.
I started “work” at the age of 52, I’m 58 now. I worked for two years in Sydney (only on the weekends) at an exclusive brothel for “mature” ladies. It absolutely changed my life.
My husband was terrible at sex, we were together for nearly three decades but he was never sexy to me.
I was attracted to him as a fabulous person, as someone who was like my Rock of Gibraltar. My father was a violent womaniser and this guy was the complete opposite; he was amazing, everyone loved him.
But by the time I was in my early 50s, I’d had enough after such a long time. The sex dwindled off and in the last five years we didn't have sex at all.
So when it was all over and done with, I was sitting at home and the thought of prostitution entered my mind.
“I always wanted to try that,” I thought. And that was it.
I’d always had this curiosity about it, like what goes on? Who are these people? So I decided I’d go in, see what it was about and if I didn’t like it I could always leave.
Becoming a sex worker was just something else I really wanted to try. It was liberating, uber fun and I was paid amazing money as I became the top lady and much sought after.
I was the best actress and no matter what sort of man I saw (hardcore criminal bikies, doctors, TV personalities, “not-quite” 18-year-olds) I made them feel amazing. I became a sexy character that I invented.
I have never had a single stretch mark, I’ve always been very slim and had naturally large breasts. So it was the perfect storm (in a DD cup) for me — as I found my niche there for a couple of years.
For some ungodly reason my body was perfect as was my face and I learnt to act like a sexy vixen after a lifetime of mistrusting and even loathing men. I had the ultimate power over them and it was perfect.
I didn’t need the money, but it was extra cash and I was having a great time, rather than watching Dr Phil or Oprah at home.
Men have always flocked to me since I was a young teenager but I’d been afraid of them and their advances. Being a hooker gave me the power over them that changed my life.
The day I decided to become a sex worker, I took myself over to a mature ladies brothel in Chatswood, in Sydney’s north. I was all dolled up, and when I walked in, they asked if I’d done this type of thing before and if I thought I could do it.
I was sh*tting myself but acting confident.
When I started I had NO idea at all about life as a prostitute, but I soon became an expert.
When a client arrives, the ladies line up and you have a couple of minutes to greet them. There’s a lounge and then men are sat there while we try and build an immediate rapport with them.
We were all dolled up to the nines and we flirted like crazy with the men and made them feel as though they were the best thing since sliced bread.
When he’s seen all the women, he makes his choice, and the receptionist takes you to the room.
I didn’t even know how to put a condom on, I had no idea, so my first ever client had to show me. I literally had no idea.
The first couple of weeks you’re working non stop because the guys like the idea that they can teach you, if you’re new.
We would get these hot guys, totally ripped and muscled. They did nothing for me but they thought they were incredible.
Many of us had regular clients that arrived weekly to see us. One of my clients would take viagra and he’d book me for four solid hours, which was wonder
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