In recent months, I’ve written quite a bit about stretching. I thought it might be helpful, though, to lay out, in one place, clearly, my thoughts about this quixotic endeavor of mine, in a way that helpfully can inform those with whom I’m discussing the possibility of joining me on my journey.
I used to be quite fat. Ten years ago – with the help of two exceedingly hot trainers – I lost forty pounds. I used the hot trainers to motivate me to get to the gym. It worked.
Six years ago, I had complicated problems with my body that resulted in some major surgery and that knocked me for quite a loop – among other things, ending for nearly five years my pretty established habits of eating healthily and going to the gym regularly. I gained back about thirty of the pounds I’d lost. I became incredibly inflexible. Stiff. And had pretty significant, pretty constant, pain.
And so, a year ago, I resumed working out with one of my hot trainers. She’s still hot. She’s ten years older. Married. Has a (lovely) three-year-old son. Who often works out with me. The dynamic is entirely different. Now, I use friendship to motivate me (at least, with her and her son).
Stretching, though, that was another ball of wax. I hate stretching. And, I knew that I needed to do it. And not just to do it, but to do it every fucking day for a long time. And probably, never to stop.
So all that – plus quarantine – and I thought, “What a great idea! I’ll stretch with hot women! I’ll get great views, and I’ll make myself do the thing I need to do.”
Initially, I posted on Craigslist. I got a couple of women who stretched with me, but it wasn’t quite what I was looking for. They were stretching with my alter ego, not with the guy who writes this blog. Not that those two guys are so far apart, or so unintegrated. But there’s my fundamental rule: if someone knows my real name, the only way they learn about the blog is if they suck my cock. And these women hadn’t signed up for that.
So… rather than subject my stretching companions to a cock-sucking requirement – which seemed steep – I decided that N would be the one seeking a stretching arrangement. And I went on Seeking.com (fka SeekingArrangement).
The (stretching) arrangements I’ve had
You can read all about my compulsive consumption of commercial sex in the time leading up to the launch of this blog if you read my story. There were lots of “sugar baby” arrangements in that particular mix.
In the last year, though, the arrangements I’ve had have not featured sex. I’ve paid a number of women fifty dollars simply to stretch with me on Zoom for 20-30 minutes at a time, via CashApp. I specify, roughly, what they wear (in all but two cases, it’s nothing they wouldn’t wear to the gym; in two cases, the women and I have agreed that it would be more fun for both of us if they were in lingerie). And I lead my partner through my daily stretching routine. Maybe asking her to adjust her camera, or her body, to give me a better view. That’s it.
A number of the women have consented to my recording our sessions – which I love doing, because it allows me to jerk off to their beautiful bodies with real live (or really, time-shifted) material. Which is hot!
Most of the women have been afraid I might record our sessions. Which I will not, do not, do. (Though, as I’ve written, I’m sometimes puzzled at the fact that women seem prepared to imagine they won’t be recorded until I mention that I won’t record them.)
Two of the women (Adrienne and Charlotte) have graduated from commercial stretching partners to non-commercial sexual partners. I hold out hope Athena may join these particular ranks, should she ever find herself less than 10,000 miles away from me.
But this is not what I’m looking for: all I’m looking for is a stretching partner – a pretty woman to motivate me to stretch with her body and our conversation.
If this might appeal to you? Please – contact me!