I’ve lost the taste for sherbet dip blow-jobs

AGONY IS BROUGHT TO YOU IN ASSOCIATION WITH

I CONSIDER myself a very lucky fella because my girlfriend is an extremely willing and lustful lady who loves nothing better than giving me a long, lingering blow-job.

I think it’s even better than shagging to see her blonde head going up and down on my eight-incher as I writhe in ecstasy.

It gives me an erotic sense of dominance over the entire female sex – and the shattering climaxes into her lovely mouth are absolutely blissful.

But lately the pleasure has been dulled slightly by her insistence on experimenting with different flavours – and I’m not talking about condoms.

By way of variety, she keeps asking me to dip my wick in something, and the stickier the better. Yoghurt, blancmange, melted chocolate, syrup, cake mix, peanut butter and jam – you name it and she’s had a go at it over these past few weeks.

But her favourite is undoubtedly sherbet dip. She likes to pour all the sherbet onto a plate and then roll my erect member in it until it has a thick coating.

My babe loves slowly to lick it all off before then giving my cock a second coating. Then she gives me a good, hard suck and I’m usually ready to shoot my load before she’s licked off the last grains.

But all the messing about is starting to turn me off. And my girlfriend is putting on weight with all the extra calories she’s swallowing. Is there any remedy you can suggest?

Robyn says,

Robyn says,

I’M a 35-year-old woman and I have just sold a successful computer business. But although I enjoyed building the firm and travelling the world, I seem to miss out on fellas.

I had the odd fling, of course, but now when I have bank accounts stuffed to overflowing with cash, the one thing I don’t have is a man.

I’ve got along lately with a selection of throbbing dildos, but there’s nothing like the real thing.

I discovered recently that one of my married friends has been having an affair with her personal trainer who is a hunk.

He gives her incredible sex, so she says, and in return she gives him little presents. I laughed at her approach but later, while I was playing with my dildos, I thought, “Why don’t I get a man in?”

Then it struck me that I already had one – my handyman. I’d noticed that he was a strapping six-footer with blond curls and rippling muscles.

The next time he called I greeted him more warmly than usual in a figurehugging outfit and later invited him in for coffee. I was quite blatant and told him that just looking at him made me horny.

He got the message and I led him to my bedroom. I lay back on the bed and waited to be satisfied as his hands wandered over my body, caressing every inch and probing my wet pussy.

For the next two hours it was pure lust as we rolled together, f***ing until we both exploded in orgasm.

The next time he came to visit I gave him a little present – a watch – and he more than repaid me between the sheets.

But now I wonder if I should try to find a man to settle down with.

Dear Robyn,

I WOULD love the wife to wear some thigh-length boots, just like the call girl I had last week.

But she says she’s too old at 57 and they would play havoc with her bunions. What should I do?

Robyn says,