Female led relationships discussion

Hello, I’m a newcomer here and also new to the world of chastity. Let me share my story briefly (please excuse my German-style English). The year was 1980, I was sixteen, when I spotted an advertisement in our neighborhood for an eighteen-year-old blonde woman offering “Natursekt” (Golden Shower). The next day, while playing cards at school with friends and chatting away, one of them explained what it actually meant. I got excited. In fact, I had already dreamed about it back in the third or fourth grade (I still have dreams sometimes now, featuring Claudia’s wide hips in her dark red jeans; we were nine years old then, which might explain my later interest). Suddenly, it was within reach. I wanted it. Right away. After masturbating over these thoughts for a few days and asking some of the lady colleagues about their fees, I grabbed a box of chocolates and a bottle of Crimean champagne and made the trip – to do both sex and see a prostitute for the very first time in my life. Michelle opened the door, gave me barely more than a smile, but it blew me away. She let me inside. Obviously, she was as young as advertised, with an alluring figure wearing a tight wine-red bustier and grey corduroy jeans, her golden hair framing deep green eyes. The price turned out to be DM 200,- which matched exactly the cash I had on hand. Sure, it wasn’t part of my original plan to spend every penny, but there was no choice now. To add to the surprise, things got worse when I discovered that “Girls Champagne” wasn’t included and cost an extra DM 100,- (money I didn’t have). After a brief pause, she took my shrinking penis into her hands, positioned it somewhat halfway up, using warm Penaten Oil (I’ve loved its scent ever since), and as you might suspect, there was no happy ending this time. I felt deeply ashamed, broke, and hadn’t even had the chance to taste any girl’s pee yet – especially not hers. Frustrating though it sounds, I went home. However, besides schoolwork, I had a job selling newspapers. A while later, I ran into her by chance at a Woolworth store (not sure what to do since she was alone; I greeted her and she replied with a wow) – so I urgently needed to gather another DM 300,-. Trying not to smoke and drinking Dad’s beer instead, it took me several more weeks to scrape the money together. I called her number – no ringing tone. I went over there and rang the bell. She had left. Believe me, she stuck with me for years after that. And I decided then never to visit a prostitute again. Indeed, I didn’t for nearly ten years, dating two girlfriends in between and having some one-night stands too. Sex was fine otherwise, no infections, nothing premature, just perhaps a bit infrequent and with fewer partners overall. Nothing extraordinary really. Okay, there is one exception worth mentioning because it permanently changed my view on women’s urine and its taste. On a lovely summer day in 1987, my girlfriend sent me out to run household errands or whatever. Coming home, I saw a newspaper lying around, and like someone in a trance, I called up a woman, had intercourse with her, received the golden shower, and immediately set off to visit Michelle specifically. No, at that moment I wasn’t thinking about my girlfriend. She looked good, as best I recall (though no more details come to mind now – I mourn losing them, along with forgetting her name). I remember being pressed into a tiny shower stall while squatting beneath her sweet blonde pussy; she was so tall I could barely reach up, holding tight onto her outer thighs. She gave small amounts at first, easy enough to swallow, gradually increasing in volume. I drank it all. And I still recall its color: clear and yellow; salty with a hint of sourness and a strong licorice aftertaste that I’ve never found elsewhere (eating licorice doesn’t help). In 1989, visiting a friend who still lived in Frankfurt, I went grocery shopping. Suddenly struck by recognition – it was her. Slim, grey corduroy jeans, white T-shirt with rhinestones, no bra, deep green eyes. Although she wasn’t alone, I followed her and within two minutes she reached her place and entered; her friend moved on ahead. You can rightly assume again that I didn’t have enough money to pay her right then. But I had to go now. There was no way letting her slip away this time, perhaps forever. I figured out her name from the bell and looked for her phone number: Michelle was listed in the BlitzTip newspaper. I called (+49-69-437270, still active) and learned that DM 350,- was required for what I wanted. I told my parents a somewhat awkward story about needing DM 400,- for repairs and items around my apartment; they genuinely believed me, so off I went. Not to Munich to see my girlfriend as I’d claimed, but straight to Michelle. After showering and shaving of course.