The happy hooker...
Okay. A few words about my favorite escort, bar none. I will call her Cathy for the purposes of this blog.
Cathy was a slim, tall, dark-haired model. Her Mediterranean parentage had left her with thick black hair and dark - almost black - eyes that were framed by long, languid lashes. Her lips were soft and kissable. She was Northern lass, with a soft accent . Her body was not gym hard - her view of a workout was a heavy sex session - but instead soft and beautifully proportioned.
Though stunning, she was not the most beautiful woman I slept with; though slim, she did not have the best body; though bright, she didn't have the sharpest mind. Her flat was always messy and she smoked like a chimney (not a pleasant trait, IMHO). But she had personality, heaps of it. She was funny with a wicked sense of humour, rather scatty and had a vulnerable edge to her that made you want to wrap her in your strong manly arms and take care of her (despite her being more than capable of taking care of herself).
Oh, and did I mention that she was a great shag? Totally uninhibited (looking over her shoulder and sweetly saying, "I want you to fuck my arse now", will live with me for a long time), always willing to experiment ("mmm, that sounds nice"), and totally into sex (she seemed to have a block order in with Duracell to keep her sex toys up and running). I would walk out, legs wobbly and a big smile on my face. She loved what she did.
I have mentioned that pythons can digest waterbuffallos faster than I can orgasm but Cathy could always get me to come with ease.
She was very addictive but difficult to see, mainly because she lived her life in chaos. I'd book her up in advance and she'd get completely trolleyed and be in bed with the mother of all hangovers. She'd forget appointments. She'd come and see me and not have condoms (a quick trip to Boots put that right). But she was great - a spot of light relief from the cares of the day.
I talk about her in the past tense not because I have given up escorts but because she has retired from escorting. Loved up with a great boyriend, she was thinking about stopping. Then some arsehole (why is the world so full of shits - Cathy didn't deserve that from anyone?) blew her cover to the boyfriend and she had to make a quick exit to save the relationship. I spoke to her a couple of times afterwards, to make sure she was okay but I knew, as an ex-client, I needed to stay out of her new life. I hope it worked out for her.
Cathy was a slim, tall, dark-haired model. Her Mediterranean parentage had left her with thick black hair and dark - almost black - eyes that were framed by long, languid lashes. Her lips were soft and kissable. She was Northern lass, with a soft accent . Her body was not gym hard - her view of a workout was a heavy sex session - but instead soft and beautifully proportioned.
Though stunning, she was not the most beautiful woman I slept with; though slim, she did not have the best body; though bright, she didn't have the sharpest mind. Her flat was always messy and she smoked like a chimney (not a pleasant trait, IMHO). But she had personality, heaps of it. She was funny with a wicked sense of humour, rather scatty and had a vulnerable edge to her that made you want to wrap her in your strong manly arms and take care of her (despite her being more than capable of taking care of herself).
Oh, and did I mention that she was a great shag? Totally uninhibited (looking over her shoulder and sweetly saying, "I want you to fuck my arse now", will live with me for a long time), always willing to experiment ("mmm, that sounds nice"), and totally into sex (she seemed to have a block order in with Duracell to keep her sex toys up and running). I would walk out, legs wobbly and a big smile on my face. She loved what she did.
I have mentioned that pythons can digest waterbuffallos faster than I can orgasm but Cathy could always get me to come with ease.
She was very addictive but difficult to see, mainly because she lived her life in chaos. I'd book her up in advance and she'd get completely trolleyed and be in bed with the mother of all hangovers. She'd forget appointments. She'd come and see me and not have condoms (a quick trip to Boots put that right). But she was great - a spot of light relief from the cares of the day.
I talk about her in the past tense not because I have given up escorts but because she has retired from escorting. Loved up with a great boyriend, she was thinking about stopping. Then some arsehole (why is the world so full of shits - Cathy didn't deserve that from anyone?) blew her cover to the boyfriend and she had to make a quick exit to save the relationship. I spoke to her a couple of times afterwards, to make sure she was okay but I knew, as an ex-client, I needed to stay out of her new life. I hope it worked out for her.
posted by Salvatori at 8:49 am
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