Mellanie Monroe. Porn Star. 9 May 2012

1.

Mellanie Monroe is a porn star. If you look her up on the internet you will get a lot of hits. Mellanie Monroe Gang-Bang, Mellanie Monroe MILF action, Mellanie Monroe interracial, Mellanie Monroe dominates, Mellanie Monroe submissive, Mellanie Monroe fucked hard, Mellanie Monroe eats girlfriend’s pussy, Mellanie Monroe gets a face full of hot jizz, and on it goes.

Mellanie Monroe has been a busy girl. On some videos you can see her taking on three or more cocks at once. Big cocks. Bigger than mine that’s for sure! You will see her being demanding, “Fuck me! Fuck me hard!”

“Hmmm” I thought, sitting at my desk, loosening my silk tie and sipping my Early Grey tea. “How am I going to handle this one?” On PornTube there were three young black men banging her like crazy and she was taking it like a champion. Not a problem to her. Tomorrow it would be me. Just me and my mature, very average sized, white-dude dick. These guys had dicks like my forearm

This is what happens when you do your research after you’ve done your booking. Smart hey?

It all started a few weeks ago when LCE Agency posted an advertisement that they would be sponsoring American porn star Mellanie Monroe for an Australian Tour. Not being a great watcher of Porn I wasn’t familiar with her. But I instantly liked the girl in the picture. Don’t know why; I just found her very attractive. Loved that smile.

The small amount of porn I do watch rarely features Guy on Girl. What I like is pretty girls making out with each other. I can always watch some of that. I did actually watch a video of Mellanie Monroe making out with a girl called Haley Cummings. I watched it two or three times. She had a beautiful manner as she seduced another girl – ponderous kisses and a deep appreciation of her body. I thought it was lovely.

“Well she can do certainly GFE”, I thought, and told the Lil Cowgirl Elle Agency to instruct Mellanie to treat me like that – or allow me to treat her like that. Which to some people would make about as much sense as hiring a Ferrari and asking them to put a regulator on it.

I just had to trust her agency with my preferences and the arrangements. They did very well. Smooth and uncomplicated. I didn’t actually have any communication with Mellanie until we met and were facing each other in the same room.

2.

The first thing that impressed me is that in looks she actually surpassed the photos and videos. She is a very attractive woman. She was also dressed quite sophisticatedly. With her black dress, black stockings and high heels there was a hint of daring rather than a brash sexiness about her. She looked like the kind of woman you’d want on your arm at a social function. The type where other men might look at her and wish and wonder what she would be like in the bedroom. Teasingly sexy but with restraint.

Conversely she could be the woman in the office that every male would fantasise about from the teenage mail-boy to the senior directors. She is the type you’d want to open the door for, take your hat off when you talk to her, and hold the lift for her - and you’d go dry in the throat if she sat on the edge of your desk to discuss something. That kind of woman.

Mellanie has a celebrated arse – and deservedly so. Her waist is tight for such a voluptuous girl. True hourglass. Her eyes lock and there is a constant smile on her very attractive face. I guess that’s what turned me on when I first saw the picture of her.

If anyone thinks working in the porn industry can damage your mental, spiritual, physical or emotional health they need to meet this woman. She glows with health, confidence and positivity. She is beautiful in more ways than one.

Looking at the videos which she has done over a number of years I noticed that her body sometimes changes slightly in size. Right now she has never looked so good. She told me she’s been working out. It shows. Tanned, fit and toned, but still that lovely voluptuousness.

“So you’re the famous Mellanie Monroe” I said. “Uh huh”, she confirmed in her Texas twang. I held her wasp waist in my hands and drew her to me. We kissed. We chatted a bit then wandered into the bedroom. She told me she liked my punting name “Princely. It’s kind of like a stripper’s name – a male stripper.”

I told her how I never go to strip joints but ended up in one a couple of weeks ago and met a girl who emptied my wallet.

She laughed loudly at the story. She has this unrestrained “Life is a ball” type laugh. It looks and sounds right coming from her.

“Want another one?” she suggested.

“How about you?” I joked

“Give it to me!” she enthusiastically demanded sitting on the bed

“How do you like it Babe?”

“Slow with plenty of grinding.”

“Remember no touching below the waist” I reminded her.

So I removed my coat and flung it aside. I sat astride her and let her remove my tie. I slipped my braces from my shoulders and undid my shirt, turned and grinded into her lap and then did the thing where you reach back and look up at her as you slide to the floor. Then I had to stop because we were both laughing too much.

I asked her in her professional opinion if I was any good. “Brilliant!” she told me. Now I was really starting to like her. “Hey, what do you reckon for a strip club which is just made up of nicely dressed senior gentlemen?” I asked her. She told me that in her experience in the porn industry she has learnt there is a market for everything. Suddenly I had a vision of a club full of beautiful young women paying for lap dances from nicely dressed senior gentlemen. Bizzaro!

Now that I’d finished my lapdance I was naked and she was dressed. I liked it. Naked and alone in a room with porn star Mellanie Monroe. I felt excitingly vulnerable. Nice, but it was time for some equality. She stood in front of the mirror as I slowly undressed her; but I decided to leave her self-supporting fishnet stockings and killer heels on for a bit longer...then to the bed.

But you know, the whole Mellanie Monroe Porn Star thing had gone from my mind now. She was just this woman I liked. There was french kissing and nipple play and BBBJ and DATY to climax – two or three times – which really made me feel good about myself I have to say. She asks that you look up at her as you eat her out. I was fine with that. Watching the reaction on her face and looking into her beautiful blue eyes all added to the pleasure.

In the days leading up to this encounter the thing I had mostly fantasised about was ravaging her. Just absolutely gorging myself on her sexiness. She was a good sport with that and was right in on it. So queening, then kissing every inch of her body, toe sucking, eating her out from behind were all part of the fun.

What I admired – most of the time – was her commitment to the experience. We were two people alone in a room and in that respect it felt like being with a first class WL rather than a porn star.

She listens too – to your voice and your body. She didn’t use Porn Star strategies of shock and awe by working my body over with every trick in the books. She tunes in and responds. Even when my cock was just about to disgrace itself she soon worked out the successful moves to get me up and running again. Thank God! To walk away from Mellanie Monroe without having actually fucked her would not be easy to live with.

Acknowledging her porn star background I suggested we go missionary, just to see if she’d ever heard of the position. She said it had been a while but she knew of it. So we started, and then... by Jingo! The whole thing hit me.

Suddenly I moved from the experience of enjoying Mellanie Monroe sweet girl to fucking Mellanie Monroe Porn Star! She had me going like a champion. “Fuck me Baby. Fuck me hard” she said. “Yeah take it Babe” I said (or something silly like that), which is not like me at all but Heck! You can’t fuck a porn star without a bit of the crazy language tossed in. Besides, it’s not what you say; it’s the way that you say it.

We didn’t rush afterwards and lay on the bed talking awhile. She told me some amusing stories about her work – and some very sweet ones. She does a very funny Australian accent.

I don’t know why but I didn’t ask her what motivated her to come here. Still, I’m glad she did and that I met her.

I have to say, it’s still weird to Google her name, see a hundred hits and links to porn-vids and think, Gee, I’ve actually fucked that woman. But the woman who takes on four cocks and finishes with bukkake is the Mellanie Monroe for everyone. Just click and watch.

For me it’s a bigger thrill to know I have also been with the other Mellanie Monroe: one that I met personally on a weekday afternoon. Like the finest of Working Ladies she does have the ability to make your encounter feel both individual and quite unique.

P.
Loyal and Faithful to Every Working Lady.
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Gabrielle. Collingwood Confidential. 12 April 2012

On Punters Forums there has been a lot of talk lately about the “culture” of "extras" creeping into Colllingwood Confidential.  Some of the newer girls expecting you to pay again for what you have already paid for at the counter.  I have been as loud a critic as anyone of this unfortunate practice. (An agreement is an agreement so get it clear before you enter the room).

Though to be honest, Collingwood Confidential remains one of my favourite  parlours.  I feel at home there.   And it must be acknowledged that for the diligent punter there is still gold to be found in Rupert St.   

Firstly there has always been those lovely girls who’ve been there for years and are long time favourites. So popular you usually have to book them way ahead.

Then there are the unexpected finds...

Today was like the good old days for me.  Gabrielle introduced herself and I was immediately comfortable and impressed.  Gabrielle is early thirties, tall, tanned, nice figure, and very pretty face, red dress, beautifully presented.

She has come home to Melbourne after having worked in another city.  Welcome back Gabrielle!  You’re better off here anyway.  

If you ask me, Gabrielle has a certain class that says she belongs to Melbourne.

Normal and reasonably expected sexual activities such as kissing and mutual oral were discussed and I was reassured they would definitely be part of the experience. 

Gabrielle is a tall girl with dark hair.  Actually I should mention that she did have one restriction “No messing up the hair Okay!”  But I don’t think it was because she was precious about having fingers in her hair so much as not wanting to go through the procedure of keeping her perfect bob in shape. For indeed it was a perfect bob.  Gabrielle had the kind of face to wear it well too.  He hair style truly suited her.  With her figure hugging red dress she’d put together quite an image.  It was sort of classic Nineteen Sixties Formal.  “After 5” as the magazines used to describe it back then.

There is a sense of independence about Gabrielle.  It’s like she is part of this industry but isn’t part of it.  She’d never heard the term “Punter” before and was highly amused by it.  With Gabrielle I also sensed she plays by her own rules – and they are rules which are fair, good and sensible.  Or maybe she just liked me.  Either way, right from the outset I certainly liked her and found it easy to be mutually clear about expectations.

She went off to do whatever girls do whilst I showered; then she came back with a glass of cool water for me.  That’ll make a nice toy, I thought - and come later, it certainly did.  

We fooled around vertically for a while but I was soon on my knees towing down her pretty panties and kissing her sweet butt.  I kissed up her long and beautiful back, across her shoulders and then she turned around.    Her return kisses were unrestrained.  That’s my girl!      

We got on to the bed and into a bit of serious nipple play.  She endearingly referred to her boobies as “My Marshmallows” and indeed they were as delicious as their namesake.   “Do you like my marshmallows?” she asked. 

“I do!”

Unlike regular marshmallows Gabrielle’s did not disintegrate when made wet.  Which is just as well as a towel was needed as I sipped from the glass of iced water and kissed her breasts and licked her rising nipples.  (Well you didn’t really think I'd asked for the iced water beause I was thirsty, did you?)

 “And you can do the same to me, if you would be so kind please Gabrielle”.

“I will!”

She did.

Nice!

So we worked over each other’s nipples in this way and then I went down on her for quite some time.  She tasted lovely and she had what I believe was an orgasm.

She told me to lie back after that and demonstrated her oral skills which were most impressive.  In fact they were lusty, wet and greedy.  She too got creative with the prop.  Nothing like a blowjob with an icecube.  Yikes! The glorious vision of her looking  up at me as she did it.  Her perfect hair cut and warm eyes.   Vogue meets porn. “You look so damn beautiful” I shamelessly told her.  But I was honest, she did.  Anyone else would say the same – or should.

We finished off by bonking in missionary with her sweet sweet kisses being delivered and those gorgeous eyes beneath her fringe. 

“God I am glad I met you today Gabrielle” I said.

“Stay whilst I look after things” she said, getting the tissues etc. 

Please lay down next to me again when you’re done, I thought.

She did.

Gabrielle is also one of those girls who can talk openly and freely.  The post sex conversation had none of the “What have you got planned for the rest of your day” language.   It was a pleasure to talk to her.   She had a gorgeous smile as she talked too.  It just emanated warmth. 

“Punter? Never heard of the term! “ she laughed.

I wonder if she has heard of the term “review”.  I didn’t mention it to her.  But if she does learn of it I hope she likes this one: for I certainly liked her.

Gabrielle is the kind of girl that makes Collingwood Confidential a great parlour.   I am glad that such girls still introduce themselves there.

 P.
Loyal and Faithful to Every Working Lady.
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Grace Bellavue. Private Escort. 3 April 2012

In all the years that I have been punting if anybody asked me “Who is the Working Lady you have most wanted to meet?” I would have to say it is Grace Bellavue.

You might ask with so many famous and much-reviewed Working Ladies always touring Melbourne why have I had my designs upon a WL tucked away in Adelaide?

The answer is because I have known of her for a long time - about six years – and have been reading her posts for most of that time.  I would rate her writing as some of the finest material written from a first person perspective on the sex industry and what it is to be a sex-worker. It moves from confronting, to funny, to the beautifully caring; and always delivered with blistering intelligence.

Right now she has about 3000 people regularly reading her blog (including quite a few celebrities) and it's growing quickly.  This month there is an article on her in Cosmopolitan Magazine. Then there are her other activities which will probably drawer further attention.  I am glad I have met her before her inevitable fame.

I first learnt of her back in 2006  when Grace and I were both members of a website called Suicide Girls. (We had different names on that forum). Grace was not an SG herself and I don’t think she ever aspired to be. Interestingly, she doesn’t have the tattooed, pierced, coloured hair, look: (but not all SG girls do I guess). I think she was happy to be just a general member. However, if the philosophy on that site was about girls owning their own sexuality and talking about it, she outshone most others.

All members on Suicide Girls can run a blog: when you click onto a member’s profile that is essentially what you see – their blog. Grace ran one and so did I. Other members soon made sure we were made aware of each other. For mine was mostly about seeing prostitutes in Australia - and hers was about being one.

We soon began to read one another’s writings. Her writing was much better than mine. It’s better than most people. We would communicate a little and post compliments and remarks on each other’s posts. She very much liked the reviews I was writing on different girls I was seeing. For me, it was always special to get a compliment from her. Then I was given a shock. This girl who wrote with such honesty, perceptiveness, maturity, insight and intelligence on commercial sex was ...... eighteen!

How can a girl so young write with such insight and passion? She would sometimes write about experiences she’d had with clients and I would think, Do they not know? Can the men who see her not sense how unique this girl is? Surely her extraordinary intelligence and acuity would be in the room too? I’d love to meet her. Even that would be enough – just to meet her.

But we both moved on. One can hang around a site like Suicide Girls for only so long. It’s a fun site; but it’s also big, bustling, busy and very distracting: like being in a strip-joint.

She’d occasionally contribute to Punter Forums and we’d send each other a quick “Hello” but that was it. It was about this time that I gave away this “hobby” for a while.

I hoped she was happy whatever she doing: whatever she was up to.

About a year later I became a member of a new forum and once again started posting the odd review. Then recently I discovered she was on the same site. She had returned to sex-work after some time off and had become a member of the same forum and I hadn’t even noticed - but "Grace" is a different forum name from the one she had used when we corresponded in the past. Once again we exchanged a few emails and agreed how after all these years it would be nice to properly catch up.

Let’s get serious about this.

I made a plan to fly to Adelaide to see her, and would have done so after the Easter chaos had finished. But then serendipity played a hand....

Suddenly, this week, she was in Melbourne - not really to work - but nevertheless she contacted me. “Would you be interested?”
I put aside all other plans, booked a hotel room and arranged to meet her the next day.

Finally...

Then I thought. What have I done?! Two people who had always recognised each other as a Punter and a Sex-Worker, and had always communicated “out of the role”, now had to put themselves “in the role”.

She told me she would be coming to me in civilian clothing rather than her Working Girl sexy gear - for she had none: blame it on a lost bag at the airport. In a way I was happy about that. If she was out of uniform I felt I would be meeting the impressive Young Essayist first and the Working Lady second.

So in jeans and a blouse and red lingerie borrowed from a friend she appeared at my Hotel Room.

There is a strength about her which I liked but also surprised me. I had imagined that most of her strength would be internal, and physically she would look more fragile than she does. But her stance and body language is forward and confident. She likes to party I am sure of that; but you can tell that she is no stranger to physical exercise. She is still young. She is twenty four now.

We had a drink and sat on the couch. I’d asked her earlier what her preferred poison might be. “Scotch” she said. Fortunately she was just as happy with Irish whiskey: because that’s what I had to offer. She kissed me. Sweet shapely lips dampened by single malt from the Cooley Mountains: quite a combination. I was concerned I might be wearing her lipstick after her deep introductory kiss and I’d be sitting there talking to her looking like a badly made up tranny. Gently wiping my lips with her thumb she reassured me the transfer hadn’t been that dramatic.

Because she quite likes the way I waffle on about my encounters with working ladies, and I admire the way she writes about being one, which is what brought us together, you’d think that is where the conversation would go. But it didn’t much. What do people who like writing talk about when they get together anyway? (Don’t ask me, I’ve never been to a writer’s festival). Maybe they discuss punctuation and grammar.

What I did learn is that she fires her stuff out, polishes it a little and that’s it. It comes out hot, no wonder it sometimes burns. But even though she is being recognised and will undoubtedly be published soon, she is not proud or pretentious or even greatly conscious of herself as a writer. “It’s just something I do”.

I could understand the way she writes because she talks similarly. Fast! But it’s not chaotic or manic. She just hammers it out. “Though sometimes her brain gets ahead of her mouth” as she puts it. She told me she is interested in expressing herself through Rap. I could imagine she’d be damned good at it.

As we were talking she’d kicked off her sandals and her feet were naked. She has very pretty feet. I’ll give those a good oral workout later, I thought to myself.  She curled on the couch rather than conventionally sitting; which actually fitted with her whole fluent body language. Her hand frequently was touching me as she talked, which was nice. I knew we had time so I wasn’t going to rush to the sexy bit: I kind of liked being able to talk to her this way: as though we had met without expectations. (Though the envelope left on the table would tell a different story). Yet I will admit, I had been so keen to meet this one I might have even agreed to pay for a sexless encounter. (Did I just write that? Slap me please!).

Fortunately that wasn’t what either of us wanted. She sat astride me facing me, her forearms on my shoulders: “Like a lap-dance girl” we joked.
“I haven’t had sex for over a week”, she said.
“Yerr right...”
“Honest !”
“Neither have I”, I said (less of a revelation I am sure).
I slipped my hands into her blouse and cupped her breasts into my hands. Her hands went into my shirt. Her kisses deep and wet.

This was a pretty nice hotel suite. It would be a shame not to use all of it. She went off to use the bathroom and I sensed she’d be looking for a change of pace on her return. I went to the bedroom and undressed. Pulled back the sheets on the bed. Then she re-emerged in her red lingerie, her black hair over her shoulders. We fooled around against the wall. I pulled down her lacey briefs, fell to my knees and ate her from behind. The sweet dampness of her pussy ...at last!

When we got on the bed the first thing I noticed about Grace, aside from the pleasure of her body of course, was the same fluency of movement simply increased in the bed. Rarely if ever did we have to ask: “Can you please...” “Would you mind?...” It just happened without complication.

Since becoming Grace Bellavue she has posted tempting pictures of herself on her website (hey, she is a Working Girl). To say they had increased my desire to see her would be an understatement.  An initial motivation to meet her based on admiration of her mind had now also become a lust for her body: I might as well admit it.

And here it was. Here it all was. In one package. So I gorged myself to be honest. Fortunately Grace was fine with that. Seeming to enjoy and happily accept all my ... “GREED” ...I think is the right word. She had no hesitation in letting herself have a few lovely wet climaxes. It’s easy to find  a Working Girl who’ll give (well it is their job); but I so appreciate the ones who love to receive. Working Girls who have sex with you, rather than “serve” you.

However, when it came to giving, Grace Bellavue did not hold back or leave me wanting. Orally teasing my cock until I was just about begging for her to take me, which she did, deep and lustily. Then I had to beg her to back-off because she was so good at it I thought I was going to shoot in seconds. But I settled down again and so commenced an hour or so of delicious foreplay. With masses of nipple play, sixty-nine, kissing, me rimming her – and pretty well all the good things any normal man might desire when rolling around in a bed with a hottie.

When we finally got around to the act, I had to say it – “I’m fucking you! After six years of wondering, I’m actually fucking Grace Bellavue!” I didn’t actually call her that. I called her by the name we had used when our exchanges started years ago. She laughed and called me my name.

Time for another drink.

She took some time out on the balcony to damage her lungs. Then we messed around on the internet awhile. She showed me something about her future expectations which I guess I won’t share in this review but.... yes....I think the inevitable recognition of her extraordinary writing is imminent. At least I can say I recognised her brilliance years ago.

I am probably quite a different person to what she expected. (How vain, she might never have given a thought as to what I might be like). She was somewhat different from what I expected. Though the pictures on her website had already changed some of my imaginings. Her brilliance flashes from time to time as she talks but otherwise you might not know she is the same girl that can put together words that will shake you. She is quite down to earth.

For those Punters who want an objective appraisal I can give you one: Grace Bellavue Private Escort is good. She is good looking; she has a beautiful sexual confidence and a positive attitude. She is generous with her commitment to sharing good sex and generous with her time. After our break she tossed the computer aside and she took me back to bed to start all over again. If only my flesh was as willing as my spirit. But it was a pleasure to indulge myself on her again.  And then to lay and talk to her in the late afternoon.

Of all the WL’s I have most wanted to meet it was the brilliant young writer who first captured my attention (and sometimes my breath) six years ago with words she was fearlessly hammering out - and still does.

On her own website she writes, “Grace is a pseudonym but I am utterly myself in my bookings”.

I met her today.  At last!

Grace Bellavue's Website
 
 P.
Loyal and Faithful to Every Working Lady.
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Natalie Stone. Private Escort. 7 March 2012

Natalie Stone doesn’t want to be reviewed.  But she told me I could. But only on here – this safe little corner of the punting world rather than those big bad forums.  Believe me Natalie, you are safe on here.  I don’t think anyone reads it.

She is an interesting dichotomy.  She advertises and takes the risk of meeting new clients but at the same time she is guarded.  I have met a few “under the radar” WL’s before but most don’t advertise and will only see new Gents via referral.   

With Natalie - with respect - there is a certain naivety about her which probably comes from her working discreetly rather than broadly trumpeting her presence.   There was a slight hiccup in regard to some aspects of “service” but it was quickly overcome and cleared. It was just a case of who do you believe: me or the last bloke who told her something.  All part of the isolation and learning of a girl who finds herself alone in Hotel Rooms with men she has to please.

But I think I was fairly easy to please.  For a while there all she had to do was be.  Looking at her tanned and shapely body was satisfying enough.  Hips so womanly, bum so pronounced, tits so proud, waist so tight, hair so blonde, legs so shapely, face so cute.   She is a pleasure to look at. I was happy.

After a quick chat on the couch Natalie had no hesitation in starting the proceedings.  Some teasing kisses and then the suggestion we disrobe.  She was only wearing lingerie so it wouldn’t take long to find the pleasures beneath.  I had been holding her against me at one stage.  I wish there had been a mirror so I could check it out, because there is something very special about holding a girl with a tanned perfect body against you whilst you are still clothed.  Almost as though God felt you needed a lift on this day and gave you some of his faultless handiwork to play with.

I undressed and got on the bed.  She joined me. Still lingeried, which was good, because that gave me the opportunity to unwrap her: always a pleasure.

I pointed out a few erogenous zones to her and she got stuck into them.  Some lusty dirty talk between us lifted the temperature.   I went down on her and appreciated being appreciated when she delivered a noisy orgasm.  

Her kisses were good, but not quite as deep as they could be at first.  But again, perhaps like the blowjob, she was thinking of what another gentleman might have wanted rather than this one.  However, Natalie is responsive to suggestion and encouragement and with the warm and happy feeling between us it wasn’t hard to get things right without rocking the boat.

After some extended and happy and lustful foreplay she asked me how I like to do it. “Rough as guts and up against a wall with hair pulling, biting and always the chance you might get caught”, I jokingly old her.  “But as we have only just met I guess we’d better just do it right here on the bed”.   She giggled - but I did note the flash of wicked interest in her eyes at the suggestion. The only thing wrong with that kind of sex is when it is contrived.

So on the bed we did it; with Natalie riding me cowgirl and me holding the bed-head.  We gave it a bit of a rocking and once again I was struck with the magic of this activity.  The kind of girl any normal man would lust for is actually fucking me with sweat and determination.  How nice, I thought as I came.

We had a bit of a tidy up and a chat about how I had discovered her.  She advertises quite selectively rather than broadly.  I told her that her price was reasonable, and her pictures and description were inspiring, so that, coupled with my mood, made it easy to approach her.  

She was interested that I had seen a number of other ladies whom she had heard of and so I gave Natalie the address of this blog so she can read about them herself.  She got out her ipad and started flicking through my blog whilst I showered and dressed and enjoyed the sheer pleasure of drinking in her naked beauty.

As she read it was as though she lost all self consciousness and she had no awareness of her naked beauty - which made her more beautiful.  I have often had the fantasy of just watching a beautiful unclothed girl wander around my house for a day.  Just being herself, only naked.  I could happily spend the day watching Natalie do that.  

Meeting Natalie was a fun and worthwhile encounter.  I’m glad she let me write about her; for being with her is a memory I would like to hold on to.  

I sometimes imagine who the few readers of this blog might be and what they might be doing.  On this warm Autumn evening I wonder if she is alone and unselfconsciously naked as she is reading this. I like to think so.  Believe me Natalie, you are safe on here.

 P.
Loyal and Faithful to Every Working Lady.
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Suffer For Me Baby. 1 March 2012

On a website I contribute to there are always arguments about Ladies Prices. They really are quite tedious.

Recently a new one started and one of the responses was to effectively say that a sex-worker has the right to charge whatever she likes because of what she has to endure. The words were: “The service provided by a working lady is the most intimate act that two people can engage in.The lady has the right to set the price that she will charge for this exchange............Think of it this way.What would you charge to have an engorged penis rammed up your rear end by someone you hardly know.”

This was followed by a number of cheers and posts of support from both Punters and Sex Workers. Personally I was not that impressed.

This was my reply:

I’m sure those feminists and politicians who are eager to see the Swedish “Solution” implemented in Australia would delight in such remarks - straight from a Commercial Sex Forum and all. Complete with admissions and statements to support their claim that whichever way you look at it prostitution is a violation of women.

Why do some Punters and Working Ladies promote the delusion that sex workers are long-suffering saints who sacrificially give over their bodies to address the needs of demanding insensitive men? Every time pricing is discussed we are presented with this same wearisome and emotive defence of a Ladies right to charge whatever she likes. (I believe she does have that right incidentally, but her “sacrifice” is not the reason why).

The price of intimacy is another ever reliable card you will see played. But just like the “she is suffering for our pleasure” argument it doesn’t add much weight either. Neither should it. If sex is the only way you can experience true intimacy (“sex is the most intimate act two people can engage in”) you’re missing out on an awful lot that life has to offer away from throbbing genitalia. Besides, there are some WL’s out there that can make an encounter feel as intimate as changing your tyre on the side of the freeway; so if you’re paying for their “intimacy” you’re going to feel mightily ripped off. Incidentally, some would argue that real intimacy, more often than not happens outside of sexual encounters.

But as mature adults engaging in this mutually consenting act I think we understand that we’re going to get physically intimate. So physically intimate in fact that we might speak and behave as sexually charged lovers do. Gosh! She might even say in a moment of heat and passion “Fuck my arse Baby!” (A little bit different from the image of some poor girl enduring a bloke selfishly “ramming his engorged penis up her rear end” don’t you think?).

This is about sex between consenting adults with one side receiving financial compensation (heck! It is a job). It is not about her painfully giving service to intimately deprived, insensitive men so she can earn her keep. Frequently she too is enjoying the physical experience, and if she isn’t it is more likely because the poor chap is sexually inept rather than brutally repellent. Most sex-workers say they love their job and the fun sex they have is a principal reason why. Good for her! We all work better if we love what we do and do what we love. Indeed, love of her work is a primary defence that many WL’s fire back at those do-gooders who wish to question her profession or suggest she needs to be saved from herself.

I do not deny that some WL’s are likely to encounter an ugly-mug client at some time, but in the main, punters are not predatory, desperate, exploitive, disrespectful and brutal. They are just everyday men. Not a big deal. Not bullies. Not misogynistic. So regardless of the ladies fee most punters would find it disturbing to be told it is set with a “sufferance compensation” loading.

Likewise, in the main WL’s are not exploitive, predatory, or disrespectful. But neither are they saintly and therefore deserving of unquestionable financial compensation as some would suggest. They are just sex-workers. Not a big deal. Not magic. Not saintly. Not immoral. Not better and not worse than most people doing a job.

Let us not be overly emotional, and let us not idealise and misinterpret what is happening here. Suggestions that it is a job where one must endure brutal invasion into one’s body is what I expect from those who do not understand the sex-worker/client relationship. It’s the kind of statement I expect from critics that just cannot comprehend that a couple can have good sharing (even caring) sex and have money in the room at the same time. Too often I see well-meaning posts where the sex-worker is romantically portrayed as the saint or the victim, whilst punters are dismissively accused of not understanding that there is no price high enough for what she does because it is so “intimate” or because someone has allowed access to their body.

Many of the comments on these pricing threads read like anti-prostitution statements. I can only say to those that post them, if you genuinely feel that way perhaps you should ask yourself why are you punting or working as a WL at all! WL’s and Punters need to continue this happy transaction without guilt or condemnation, or a sense of inferiority or superiority on either side.

But mostly we need to continue without the suggestion that sex-work is about a woman letting herself be painfully used in order to gratify her client. I cannot understand how anyone could honestly believe that to be the situation and continue to punt – or work.So let us not use language that serves to condemn ourselves or the other party. Just as it is reprehensible to demand too much of each other and speak disparagingly of each other, self loathing statements where we speak poorly of ourselves and give disproportionate praise to sex-workers will do little to reflect the reality of the agreement.

Some might think that by posting statements of concern about what a WL is doing they are demonstrating a heightened awareness and sensitivity, but I don’t. I think it patronises the sex-worker and insults the majority of punters.We have sex together, sex-workers and their supporters. It takes place in hotels, brothels and private homes. In the main we understand what we are doing and are very happy to do it. With such a mature and mutual understanding we should also be able to openly discuss the experience that is expected and the costs that is expected. There is no need for statements that contain any sense of guilt or apology or undue praise or condemnation of one side or the other.

To be honest I have no idea what she should charge. But I do know what I can afford. And I most definitely know what I am paying for and what I am not paying for - and it isn't to have a woman swallow down her pain and disgust as she lies down beside me!

P.
Loyal and Faithful to Every Working Lady.
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Kim. Melbourne Colosseum. 2 December 2011

Today I did two things which I hadn’t done for ages. One is visit Melbourne Colosseum, the other is book a girl for 30 minutes for a vanilla fuck. Both events turned out to be pretty okay.

I don’t know if it was my timing or if something else is going on but I cannot remember seeing such a beautiful and extensive introduction at Melbourne Colosseum. There were at least twelve girls and every one of them was stunning.

The place next door will often bedazzle you with Asia's Most Beautiful but I do not recall “39 Tope” offering anything that surpassed what I saw at Melbourne Colosseum this afternoon. They just kept coming and coming: bikini clad, lingerie clad, cocktail dress clad. To choose the best looking would have been impossible. So, I chose the best looking – which means the most interesting looking one.

Unfortunately the intro style hasn’t changed at Melbourne Colosseum since my last visit, so there was no time for dilly-dallying with these girls. They ran in and out the room with their rapid fire intros - “I’m Lilly, “I’m Jenni”, “I’m GiGi”, ‘I’m Chi”…..and I’m this and I’m that…. Meanwhile, I was just thinking… “And I’m confused!”

But did it matter? Not today. I just figured they’re all going to want extras, or they’re simply not going to allow the good stuff, and if they did, well that’d just be a bonus. But I wasn’t overly bothered, because actually I didn’t want much.

Yes, I know that is weird, but I really was out to simply “quick-fuck” a pretty girl. Couldn’t be bothered brothel crawling, couldn’t be bothered negotiating, interrogating, or even do much considering. I just wanted an uncomplicated fuck. So I chose Kim who had an exquisite body wrapped in a tiny yellow dress that completely failed to give her beautiful (possibly enhanced?) breasts any modesty; and which exposed her shapely thighs. And who had a gorgeous face which looked out at me behind studious glasses: I guess it was the spectacles that gave her the point of difference from her many, and equally beautiful, peers.

It was nice to be in this old haunt again. Not much had changed since my last visit two years ago. The girls still live behind the red curtain, collect towels from the box shelving downstairs and move their sweet arses as you follow them up the stairs: at least that’s what Kim did.

She spoke very good English and she had a lovely personality: charming, confident, warm and a bit cheeky. Such characteristics can make a punt go either way; for I have found them to be the exact qualities a girl has if she is the type to hit you up for extras; also the same qualities if she is the type to go off like a nympho and never even mention extras. With Kim it was the former - fifty dollars for DATY and kissing.

But I wasn’t disappointed because, as I said, the whole kissy kissy, licky licky thing just wasn’t where I was at today. If it was I’d be booking her for a damn site more than 30 minutes! So I said, don’t worry about it. She was fine; didn’t sulk or give me “bad sex punishment”. To be honest she still shared a lot through a happy and caring attitude.

Kim gave me a great blowjob from a position that allowed me to enjoy her physical magnificence and she did great nipple play and enjoyed the same. She kissed lightly to the point of uselessness but was funny and teasing about it. She didn’t mind being teased in return about it either.

For a moment I thought about saying “Hang it!” and handing over a pineapple to plough through those sweet pubic hairs (she was unshaven) and taste what I am sure would have been exquisite; but I would need to turn back the clock and book her for an hour or so to justify that extra expense. Not that I ever find it easy to justify paying extra for DATY anyway, regardless of the length of the booking.

But I did like her eye contact and passionate dirty talk.
“You going to fuck me? You want to fuck me?”
“Indeed I do!” I said.

And indeed I did.

Oh, one other thing I did today is get boned up and stay that way through the whole episode. I love foreplay, and two hours of rolling around licking, slobbering, kissing, slapping sucking etc is fine by me any day. But it does have its consequences. It’s like my dick comes up and says “Are we on?” and I say “No not yet” and it goes, “Okay, I’ll go soft again because I can't stand up like this all day”. Then it comes back up and I say “No, not yet”. And on and on this goes until I finally call, “Okay you’re on” to which he jumps to attention; or because he’s plumb worn-out out from going up and down he says “Sorry, I’m done, you’re just going to have to fuck her yourself now” (stupid dick! ).

Well, this time he came up and said “Are we on?” and I said “Yup". Because God knows there is no deep wet kisses or pussy licking going on here so you might as well put your raincoat on and do your thing.

So in various positions we clocked up about fifteen minutes of the old in-out. Her spectacles were always on. Either she is a marvellous actress (could be), or she was getting into it too (could be); either way we had a mutual celebration through ecstatic noise at the end.

She removed the condom like the kindest and most tender nurse in the world might: so gentle. We lay together for a short while and I drank in her physical beauty as we talked about a few things. God she was beautiful. She removed the last accoutrement between her and total nakedness – her glasses. God she was beautiful. But in a different way, yet no less beautiful than when she was wearing them. I watched her shower then and admired the wet version of her nakedness. God she was beautiful. Then I had a shower as I looked at her walking round the room tidying up. God she was beautiful.

Just a thirty minute uncomplicated fuck which wasn’t planned for and merely slipped in at the end of an otherwise frustrating day - which I won’t bore you with the details of. But here I am three days later writing about it.

The damnable thing is I can’t get that last image of her out of my head. I see her sitting on the bench chatting all the while and waiting for me to finish dressing; her breasts peeking out from her yellow dress; her beautiful shapely legs exposed; and that captivating smile emanating from her gorgeous face behind her fashionable glasses.

So I don’t know; maybe I will go back and book her for a longer time. I could do. I could even pay her the extra fifty and see what happens. It’s tempting. But if I did, I guess that would make for another thing I haven’t done for a long time.

P.
Loyal and Faithful to Every Working Lady.
.........................................................................................................................................................................................................

Jasmine Jaro. Private Escort. 22 November 2011

I caught the tram into the city. It made sense: cheaper than paying for an afternoons parking. I was thinking, wouldn’t it be interesting if they did a survey of the passengers. Whereas others were probably off to do business or shopping, my reason for travel was to check into a pre-booked hotel for an afternoon of sex with a woman I had never met before. That was my sole purpose for travelling on a tram into the city. What a nice feeling it was.

I walked a couple of blocks to the hotel and checked in under the ridiculously false name I always use and told the desk not to charge anything to my credit card as I will be settling the whole matter with cash. Like a few other hotels I use I think they are getting used to me. It was quite a nice suite they gave me with separate lounge and bedroom. I looked around. It was very white and beige whilst the soft furnishings and ¬meaningless modern art offered the odd splash of golden brown, but still quite comfortable. I made some tea and then stood on the balcony and sent a text of four numbers declaring the room number. “1805”. (Isn’t punting fun?)

I later learnt the recipient of my message was in a taxi when she received the text. An exotic Asian Lady who has been given the moniker “The Empress.” Maybe she was looking out the cab window thinking about the fact that she was on her way to an afternoon of sex with a man she had never met before. I hope that was a nice feeling for her too.
“On my way - there soon x”, She fired back to me; (always the kiss “x”).

Good, I thought. Then I went to the bathroom to check my appearance. I looked at myself in the mirror. I was okay but I think I looked a little tired. I haven’t been sleeping well lately. Though I had never considered deferring this meeting. Nothing would dissuade me from today and the opportunity to lay beside another beautiful woman. Artists and writers and other visionaries have a fire in the belly that drives them, drives them and drives them. I'm no artist but I know how that feels.

Yet to what end is the finished painting and what does the artist strive for? To reach out to others and to discover or express a new part of himself? But isn’t that what I am going to do this afternoon?  Except, I actually enact that which I would wish to paint.  Why stand outside the painting when you can actually be in it?

If I were an artist I don’t know what would be more important to me in the end: the body of work I created or the thousand different bodies I slept with. I think the latter.

I thought about the lady coming to me in the taxi. When Jasmine Jaro first appeared on forums a few years ago I was rather impressed by her photos. I still am. There have been quite a few recent reviews for Jasmine. They have been so good that one cannot help but take notice. I decided I too would like to meet her.

Initial communication with Jasmine had been efficient and quick. The time and date of this meeting were easily locked in. I sensed I was dealing with a girl with professional standards and I pre-booked this hotel suite with confidence. In that initial correspondence I asked her if she had a preferred drink, but she responded by asking me the same question; telling me that she would like to bring a bottle of wine, which I thought was a nice offer. It was a well chosen bottle too. We opened it and toasted one another on her arrival.

We sat and talked for a while. Yes, I know it could be said I was burning up my “sex time” but I think I was looking or waiting for something. Perhaps the realisation we are both have a complimentary attitude before we embark on this adventure? It is not as though I need to find some great meeting of minds so much as a shared moment. Forums are often a common ground in meeting some girls, but to be honest I try to avoid talking about them and indeed the industry. Jasmine was of the same mind. So we sketched our backgrounds for one another and discussed that which we have recently done and that which we would still like to do and places she would still like to visit. As I take to travel with all the keenness of a cat in a cardboard box she’ll probably do her bucket-list way before me.

Jasmine Jaro is a lady originally from Hong Kong. She speaks very fluent English but still has an accent of course, which is actually charming. She was curious to know if I had enjoyed a professional Asian Working Lady before. I told her I had – quite a few. She sipped her wine and moved in her seat and gave me a look as though to say “Well you haven’t tried this one yet have you?”

I noticed her face could be both strong and at times disarmingly innocent. I won’t kid myself that she was busting with lust for me but I will say all of us have a place of tenure where we know how to shine. For some it is the centre of attention in a crowded room, for some in a meeting, for some on a lectern; and for some in a bed....

“Would you like to see where the bedroom is?” I asked her.
“Yes”, she unhesitatingly replied. We picked up our glasses and adjourned.

In the bedroom she drew the curtains (it was uncomfortably bright). Then she kissed me: then again deeply. She undid my tie and unbuttoned my shirt, then hung them up for me. We agreed that I should finish the procedure whilst she went to the bathroom to become a changed woman. That’s good. A man never looks his best pulling his pants off.
On her return I was stunned. Jasmine Jaro in white lingerie is a sight to behold.
Any hope of hearing a quiet click reassuring me that I had made the right choice had been answered by a resounding fanfare; and a reminder that we were here for sex as opposed to developing a mental connection on the couch. She looked amazingly hot. With her body seemingly made for lingerie modelling no woman could be better equipped, prepared or inspiring than Jasmine Jaro at this moment. Naked perfection is her speciality.
So commenced two hours of unabated foreplay. Whereas our words had been sought out, this was flowing with the same ease and mutual understanding of two people who had been with each other many times. Jasmine Jaro knows what to do in bed.
All the items you would hope for from an Escort in her range were delivered generously and passionately. There was a sense of being in tune throughout the whole session. Like the best WL’s she has a level of confidence in her participation that allows herself to let go and get completely involved.
Her kisses are very deep and passionate – as is her BBBJ.
I went down on Jasmine from conventional, to sixty-nine to from the rear. Light anal play. Her oral skills go beyond deep-throating with plenty of bold exploration with her tongue. Testicular Tongue Massage I think it is called on her website – and then her tongue proved to be even bolder. Toe sucking and feet kissing were enjoyed. Kisses up the back of her legs, over the cheeks of her arse and plunging again into that irresistible centre.
And – my favourite - lots of concentrated nipple play.
After a couple of hours of this truly involving foreplay I knew that I had better request the grand finale. I don’t sustain like I used to and one must know when to make the move. Having her sit aside me cowgirl was an exquisite site with her lovely shaped breasts bouncing and her hair falling around her face. We finished in missionary - and I was indeed finished! But not so Jasmine: if I had any desire to “play on”, the invitation was there.
I told her I haven’t gone twice in years. But then I have never tried to either.
“Let’s see”, she said......
.....that was close....
....though it was my resignation not hers.

Jasmine offered to give me a massage and I am sure that would have been lovely (apparently she uses a warm oil) but I declined on this occasion, being happy to just finish our wine and talk some more. She was very generous with her time. Though I might have been fortunate in that she was off to a photo shoot later and she had some time to kill. (Looks like there will be more photos of Jasmine Jaro coming soon. Something for us all to look forward to)
Later, she took advantage of the balcony and had a cigarette whilst I showered. We were very relaxed together.
After her shower we kissed farewell and she left.

Before checking out of this hotel I made some tea and took some notes as I reflected on the afternoon. I went back to the bedroom and sat for a moment at the end of the bed. Two empty glasses and a bed as spent as my body and the bottle of wine.
It’s an image. One that reflects a reality - like a painting.
I suppose if I were an artist and this were my painting, I might call it “The Empress Was Here”.
Jasmine Jaro's Website

P.
Loyal and Faithful to Every Working Lady.
.........................................................................................................................................................................................................

Mia. Collingwood Confidential. 10 November 2011

This was a hard introduction. Not because every girl was attractive (which they were) but because I felt terribly self-conscious about my shoes: Today they were my Achilles heel (pun intended). I’d hurt my foot a few days ago. I have mostly been at home since the injury but I had to go out on Thursday. Hobble hobble: such a sexy look.

I don’t know how the injury came about. Perhaps I’m getting gout like an old solider. Too much Scotch and sitting around on leather Chesterfield lounges. So as I had to walk a bit I put on a more comfortable pair of shoes. They were kind of like black sports shoes. I hated them. But I also hated the pain that a normal pair of dress shoes were giving me. Everything else was in place. The coat and pressed trousers and tie. In fact I looked fine: just don’t look down at my feet – which Mia did. Damn! Just after she told me how nice I looked. I sensed her disappointment.
“Sorry about the shoes Darling”, I said to her and explained my dilemma.
“I understand”, she said forgivingly.

I looked at her feet too. Of course I did. I always do. Her feet were in cowboy boots; which looked cute seeing that the rest of her clothing consisted of a western shirt tied at the waist. She also had a leather belt around her waist which seemed to be unemployed as the belt had nothing to hold up because all she wore on the lower half was a pair of frilly knickers. To top it off she had geeky glasses and brightly coloured hair. Just as bright and colourful were the glimpses of her tattoos I was getting beneath her shirt. She also had very naughty eyes. There was definitely a lady of mischief in there – what a wonderful little fuck toy you would make, I thought.
“Would you kiss me?” I asked.
“I’d kiss you boy”, she said in an American accent.
“I’m not talking about that pecky-pecky bullshit” I told her.
“Neither am” I, she said.
“And I want to go down on you - big time”, I told her, using her own parlance.
“That’s what I want”, she said.
I guess it didn’t take long for us both to understand what we want from each other.

Mia has a lovely body. She’s not big, she’s not small, she’s slim but not thin, she just looks like a girl. Not a model, but not your average girl either. She’s too out there to ever be called average. She looks like a Suicide Girl or a Gods Girls or someone who might be found on Crazy Babe or a similar sight. Hot As All Fuck! in my opinion.

I don’t know how Collingwood Confidential is recruiting these days but Gosh they’re doing a good job. The other two girls were gorgeous too. I’d have booked either in a flash because I know from previous visits they are really good. But Mia was something new and simply had to be sampled. Also, I could not be sure how long she would be around, or whether I would ever find her in an intro again. Strike whilst the iron is hot; and after talking to her my iron was very hot!

From the moment we were in the room we were up against the wall, her knee in my crotch, hands in my shirt and her tongue in my mouth. I slipped my hand into those pretty lilac panties and felt the wetness. My fingers emerged and I sucked them for the first taste. Delicious! Oh this was going to be so much fun.
“Now get out of here!” I said pushing her out the door. The quicker I got her out the room the quicker I could get nekkid, do my shower thing, and get her back in.

Mia excited me incredibly. But I felt I would have to read her (and myself) the riot act. Which I would have done if she hadn’t ripped straight back into me on her return. She pushed me back against the wall. She salivered she spat on my cock and nipples, she kissed crazy: bitey, lip sucking, invasive and wet. She was everything you could want from an encounter in a brothel and more - much more. This girl was high, high, energy. If I didn’t get things straight I was going to walk out of this joint with “just been crazy-fucked” written all over my body. You know? dents, scratches and bruises. All good fun until you have to explain them away.
When I told her I really appreciated her approach, but in all practicality I can’t look like I’ve been knocked around she said, “Yah, cool, I get it”.

So, when we hit the bed her inspiring riotous behaviour continued, with a little (just a little) more restraint. Totally naked, she still had her leather belt around her waist which made for a good grip handle from time to time.
Mia wears the full bush, under arm and “down there” too which personally I found excitingly different in these days of the ubiquitous Brazilian. Parting those sweet curly hairs I went down on her until she came. She went crazy – again – and hit me for making her orgasm. I kid you not! Her eyes were blazing and she whacked me one! Then she grabbed me and kissed me passionately. A bit of a spontaneous act apparently. She loves the experience of orgasm – God knows she makes enough noise – but it makes her mad as hell at the same time. She reacted as though I had just stolen her soul or some precious part of herself. How fucking dare you take that from me?! With another girl I’d have found the post orgasmic slap quite disturbing but with Mia I just thought, Yeah, that’d be right.
But I was obliged to remind her again of the “mark-free” agreement.
“Whoops. Sorry. Yeah, right”, she said (or something like that) as she tenderly kissed me.

She knelt behind me on the bed, facing the mirror. Her hands wrapped around me tweaking my nipples and wandering down to my cock. She ran saliva into the nape of my neck, which then ran in sugary rivulets. She smeared it over my chest as her eyes demanded contact. Damn! She had some bold actions.

It was the kind of confident brazen conduct you sometimes get from the parlour legends in their thirties (some of whom have worked at this very parlour) but this girl would be in her early to mid twenties I guess. Though when she told me about her private life (which I won’t share here of course) I was not surprised that sex is sex to Mia. The fact that it is an occasional source of income too is just benefit - and benefit to the person she is with I guess. I certainly felt I was benefiting.

After so much wetness and rough play and nipple-play and DFK from outer-space and gluttonous oral sex and dirty talk and God knows what else, I wanted to appropriately fuck her with the same exuberance, so getting into position I ......….went flat.

But that’s the trouble with ageing I guess – sustainability. Let the damn thing go until the last minute and it wimps out: especially after such a high energy session.

Oh well, after enduring the humiliation of my shoes today, the inability to get an erection to fuck a hottie was insignificant. (Are my priorities a bit weird?)

Anyway, Mia didn’t seem to be bothered, as we had played a lot of fun games, worked up quite a sweat and she’d certainly had her orgasm. My smarting skin could testify to that.

If another girl had told me that sucking a soft cock has its own sensual and aesthetic pleasure I’d be dubious - touched by her kind reassurance, but still dubious. But with Mia and her sexual adventurousness, I sense she was being perfectly honest. Well, if sucking a soft cock brings pleasure I could certainly help her on that score. And she could certainly help in so far as milking out the weary fellow. “Mia, you are beautiful”, I told her, and I meant it, as I felt the pumping hot relief of discharging sperm finally pass through my cock.

My nipples were trashed and my lips felt bruised by the intensity of her kisses but I also felt wonderfully alive with her: The Body Electric. We had five minutes left to chat, during which I learnt her mind is more outrageous than her dress and behaviour.

We showered together, during which she made it cold, just for fun “Ha ha!”.
That’d be right; I said to myself in resignation as I readjusted the taps. “Awww baby” she said in a moment’s sympathy(beautiful nutcase).

We got dressed chatting all the while.
“Sorry again about the incongruous shoes”, I said as I laced them, dressed now and ready to leave.
"I can see they're not really your style" she reassured.

We agreed that I must visit her again with hopefully a better performance from my dick, but more importantly, an introduction where I am wearing better shoes: for I suspect that one thing led to another.

Either way, I’ve not finished with this one yet.

P.
Loyal and Faithful to Every Working Lady.

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Pepper. Collingwood Confidential. 12 September 2011

It took a few meetings before I finally got to spend some time with Pepper. She has intrigued me for a while. I have always found her attractive: actually it’s hard not to. Long legs and short hair make for a sexy combination.

I first met Pepper about two years ago at another parlour. On that day I had already committed myself to seeing a lady who whose company I was regularly enjoying at the time. Through some means or another Pepper had come across my blog and she told me at another meeting, in the waiting lounge of this particular parlour, that she liked reading my reviews. I thanked her for the compliment whilst admiring her sexiness, and in my mind determined that I should like to add her to my obscure collection of indulgent scrawlings.

Telling myself I should like to write about her is my respectable way of couching the real truth, which is - I’d love to have hot passionate sex with her.

One afternoon I called the parlour where she was working and learnt she was no longer available. Damn! Such is the business we work and play in. After that I took a break from these disgraceful activities for a while.

On return to the playing field I had forgotten about my commitment to catch up with the highly attractive Pepper - along with a hundred more promises I had made to myself about seeing other working girls. We men are nothing but fickle minded as we wander around from brothel to brothel, from Escort to Escort. We taste, we devour, we become fixated with one for a little while; then we feel we have plateaued; or we come to our senses, or another one distracts us; and all that we were obsessed with fades away. I think punting is made for men with Sexual A.D.D. We can’t stay focussed on one pussy for more than a minute.

On the second Monday of September 2011, I walked into Collingwood Confidential to be introduced to five ladies; three of which I have known before from other parlours. Collingwood Confidential is certainly recruiting some fine women at the moment – including Pepper.

But the embarrassing thing is, at first I did not recognise her. “It’s the wig that’s throwing you”, she helpfully suggested.
“It is indeed”.
But the spirit of the girl was there along with her eternally long legs, pretty and expressive face and certain cheekiness.

I put forth a proposal to Pepper. If she had been enthusiastically reading my reviews as she claimed, then my expectations should not surprise her. She smiled and nodded in acknowledgment (I love that cheeky smile of hers); but then she reminded me that perhaps she too has certain regulations. We discussed both our expectations and regulations and it became apparent that we would probably get along. At last, Pepper and I were to experience each other – the way I wanted to experience her. After all, “wigs” can be removed.

“Show me how your kisses will be”, I asked her when we got into the room. She told me I was impudent but pressed herself against me and kissed me anyway. I took the cheeks of her splendid arse into each hand and pulled her closer to return her kiss. Oh we are going to have fun, I decided.
“I’ll be back” she said and left me to prepare.

On her return I took to undressing her...slowly. I discovered there were 20 clips in the back of her corset. I was certain it would have a zip and the clips would be merely for show. But no; each was a functioning clip that had to be attended to. I amused myself with the thought that each clip represented a month that had passed since I’d made my commitment to see her.

She is tall and her back is wonderful – long and elegant. Her arse is something special: the kind of arse that probably secures many bookings as she leaves the room. (“And if you thought my intro was good, just watch this butt as I walk away”).

After removing her corset I reached around to take a breast in each hand. She pressed her arse into my crotch. I kissed the back of her neck. I could feel the shape and size of her breasts but delayed looking at them. I’ve waited this long, why rush it now? I particularly liked the length of her nipples and knew that they were going to feel wonderful in my mouth. She loves breast stimulation and nipple play. She pressed her hands against the wall, and tilted her head back encouraging more. I took her short hair in hand; she turned her head to kiss me. Then Pepper turned around completely (Ah! So these are the breast I have fondled – nice! – I especially like these long nipples). I removed her very small panties and kissed down her legs. Kneeling I kissed her stomach and belly-button. Took one of her beautiful hands and sucked her fingers which were crowned with bright red nails. Vamp.

We moved to the bed to continue our games. I went down on Pepper for a long time until she came. I sucked her sweet toes and then went down on her again from the rear. What a lovely sight: and what a lovely area to orally explore – all of it.

Later she put forth the excellent suggestion of me kneeling whilst she went down on me, giving me the sight of her beautiful rear in the mirror at the bed head. That was too good. “You can give as much oral wetness to that cock as you like.” I invited. She did. So hot! “Spit, my sweet”.

Sixty nine and Queening followed, nipple play, a little rough, a little tender and lots of sweet DFK.

Then we rested, distracted (of course!)by something she said. “Wait! Tell me about that”. I asked.

So she told me the full sexy story in exquisite intimate detail. Perhaps it was all the better because it was true and spoke with conviction. Also, I asked her to gently work erogenous zones on me as she narrated the event. It was a nice combination. Inspired by her account we laughed and cross-examined each on secret desires.

I should like to explore some of those with her sometime.

In the end we fucked in doggie and I didn’t last long as I entered her and looked at her long and beautiful back, her arse pushing against me, and her pretty face in the mirror. The buzzer went straight after that, which was quite telling: it told me that Pepper is going to be a girl needing more than one hour to fully be appreciated. She has that deeper quality. I want more.

I’m going away tomorrow: overseas for six weeks. (Don’t envy me; I hate travel). I am certain that on my return I shall seek her out: Yes, even with my pathetic punters proclivity to be easily distracted by any of a thousand Working Girls.

Pepper has got it what it takes to keep a man with Sexual A.D.D. focussed for a bit longer yet.

P.
Loyal and Faithful to Every Working Lady.

.........................................................................................................................................................................................................

Holly. Private Escort. 25 August 2011

On a sex forum I contribute to there are many Ladies who advertise their "sevices". But just for fun, the forum started a classified section where Gentlemen can advertise theirs. So rather than looking for a lady who you feel would be fun to meet and who is priced according to your budget, you put up an ad, advertising yourself as a client, stating how much you are willing to pay and what you might expect in return. Then you wait for them to come to you.

I’ve put a couple of ads up now for excellent results. Last week it was Holly. I liked her response, quick and sharp and to the point.

She liked my response to her response– even quicker and even more to the point.
Neither of us were left in any doubt as to what the other expected, wanted to give, and wanted to get done to them.

She’s a bit of a dark horse, Holly: one of those WL’s that doesn’t advertise but is usually busy. I’ve met a few like that. Some have asked me not to review them because their low profile is the way they like to keep things. But Holly said she was okay about me writing about her.

I’m glad of that because meeting her was something worth writing about. Holly is a woman in her mid thirties who looks after herself. She is in good shape. She has a sexual energy that utterly exhausted me. I’m not kidding. You better be fit to keep up with this one. I couldn’t. I did pretty good; but I sensed she’d have been ready to go a few more rounds after I dropped.

But, what the heck; I had a great time – and so did she until she burnt me out. But she was my visitor and as such it was important to her that she leave me with a smile on my face. She did.

My classifieds always announce the same. I'll be fopping about in an hotel on a specific date and looking for a visitor. There’ll be a specific amount in the envelope and I’ll be looking for a GFE encounter. I usually fire one or two emails back to the respondents just to let her know a bit about myself and to make sure we have a mutual interpretation of GFE or PSE. There was never any doubt with Holly that we were on the same page.

Holly was held up a little bit but she kept me informed the whole time and was quite willing to understand if I couldn’t proceed because of this minor hiccup. But it wasn’t a real problem to me and her courtesy in constantly updating me was both professional and reassuring. Besides, she said she’d make it up to me. She certainly did that!

We met about four in the afternoon. End of the afternoon and into twilight is a nice time for an encounter. I had checked into the hotel a couple of hours earlier. I had a cup of tea, did some writing and played with the light switches, flushed the toilet, opened and closed the empty drawers, flicked through Gideon’s Bible, considered the mini-bar, opened and closed the blinds, looked over the balcony, fifteen stories up, thought about spitting off it, which is the most immature thought I have had for forty years ( I didn’t incidentally);went back inside, did some more writing, had another cup of tea. Next thing I know she was tapping on the door.

Holly is in her mid thirties. She was wearing a nice black silk top with a corset style back, black skirt and proper lady shoes. She looked nice. She had texted me earlier and asked if I had a dress preference. Like I was running a snotty night club I requested no jeans or boots but that was about it. I liked her choice of garment.

We sat on the couch for a short while and I was amused by her revealing body language. Horny! She was keen to get into it. I thanked her for the compliment. She told me she’d had a frustrating day and the only thing that has kept her going has been the thought that she was going to a hotel room to fuck a man.

Really? I asked, wondering who might be the lucky guy...then... Oh! Of course! Yes! That’d be me. (What a happy realisation!)

She was so horny that for a minute I had the wicked idea of telling her I only book girls to sit and talk, just to see how she'd react. But then I realised the joke would actually be on me. Especially if she did just that after I had already decided I really wanted to fuck her too.

So a bit of teasing dirty talked commenced in the most polite way. Almost as if we were passing finger food at a party. “Can I offer you a spring roll” was to become “Would you like me to lick your pussy?” “Are you right for a drink?” had become “I really want your cock in my mouth”. She ran her fingers up my thigh as we sat together and I did likewise to her, kissing and slipping my hand up her short skirt to feel the warmth of her sweet crotch though silken underwear.

We removed her top so that she was in short skirt, bra and shoes. We stood up and the games began. I remained dressed for a while, enjoying the ravaging of her whilst I still had my suit and tie on. It’s a turn on. She seemed to like it too. We were up against the wall for a while. She had wonderful kisses. Incredibly deep and sensual. I knelt and asked her to push her arse out so I could pull her knickers down and eat her from behind. Then the armchair suggested itself. We dragged it over and Holly knelt on the seat backwards, her arse into the room, so that I could kneel behind and gorge myself on her until she came. I was getting more than a little heated – both sexually and literally, so I loosened my tie (some days I just go crazy). With her still kneeling in the chair I went around the other side to face her over the back; she undid me, took out my cock and I watched it disappear into her wet mouth. So glad I posted that “classified” I said to myself: reminding myself to withdraw - before we reach the great moment of pleasure. (I only cum once and I didn’t want to be shooting just yet).

I got naked and we went to the bedroom. She still had her short skirt on. A woman naked but for a short skirt and heels is a great look. Especially with her lovely long hair messed up. She was looking sexy! We fooled around in front of the mirror and then it was on to the bed; which is pretty well where we stayed for the next couple of hours.

“Holly, you are a sexual glutton”, I told her.
She is, and I said it as a well deserved compliment. Having someone give to you is all well and good – and welcome! - But what a pleasure it is to have a woman hungrily take from you. As though it is you alone who can satisfy her, which I wouldn’t be; but it is nice to feel that way. Especially when you are fifteen stories up in a city hotel and it is just you and her isolated from the world.
From the bed, through the large window, I could see the city lights and arterial roads clogged with thousands of cars, beads of red and white lights streching away but no noise. A cinemamatic like image that increased my happy sense of being cocooned away with her. Like having sex in the sky and looking down upon the world.

Duracell was put to the test. For nearly two hours her vibrator ran. It was in her pussy, tickling her anus, working her clit, on her nipples. It was me and her vibrator going for Holly the whole time. Such a beautifully sex-hungry, wet girl. Happily and frequently taking her climaxes. Take it all Girl! I loved it! She came and came and made no apologies for it.

“You’re not giving up on me are you?” She asked, as I fell back on the mattress.
“No” I reassured her. Truth was, there was no way I could keep up with this girl. Well, maybe it was time for me to be selfish anyway.

So I just let her have her way with me for the next thirty minute or so with, masses of BBBJ, and other oral treats down there; wet, wet DFK and a bullying of the nipples. She looked spectacular sitting astride me. Long hair falling down, her firm breasts pushed forward. We finished off with a missionary bonk and that was just about it: Especially for me!

I’d very much enjoyed this visit from Holly but it had been intensely sexual. Not that I have any objections to that. There was a bottle of unopened champagne still in the fridge. No time for that. Holly is a - straight into it – girl. I might be wrong, but I don’t know think we even exchanged names. As I recall, it I remained Princely and she remained Holly.

I sent her an email the next day thanking her for her visit and telling her I can barely move without thinking about her. She wrote back that she was glad she had left a lasting impression. So was I to be honest. But boy, my poor old body was done!

With many girls, when I look back on the encounter there are other events I remember. Some things we talked about or shared. With Holly, what I mostly remember is SEX. Lots of it!

But there is nothing wrong with that for a memory, Indeed, I think I should like to refresh it some time.

P.
Loyal and Faithful to Every Working Lady.

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Gloria Van Vaulker - Private Escort - 17 August 2011

If you’ve been part of the major Australian Internet Forums dedicated to this kind of activity for the past year or so and you don’t know who Gloria Van Vaulker is, then you must have been logging on in your sleep.

Gloria is a girl that isn’t shy of sharing her thoughts and opinions. She both inspires and infuriates other members.

As a member of Punter Planet (the major forum) I was curious: I also learnt in our correspondence that she was equally curious about me. It was time for us to meet. Time to find out what the lady behind the avatar is really like.

Bloody good looking! I can tell you that for starters. Gloria Van Vaulker has one beautiful face. I mean, her promotional pictures are fine but nothing prepares you for the actual encounter. She is pretty! She is also tall and dresses very tastefully. With her hair down, wearing a tie belt coat, high heels and carrying an umbrella she looked all class when she came to my hotel room on a winter Wednesday afternoon: Gloria presents herself as a most elegant young lady.

She could also talk the leg off a table. I have never in my life met a girl that can talk so much. But it’s not nervous prattle. She just seems to have an insatiably inquiring mind locked in overdrive. It’s a bit like conversational pinball, with each ball (question) fired off at an incredible speed.
It would concern me if I felt I wasn’t being listened to but actually it’s quite the opposite. She seems to listen intently but then wants to move it along or ask more about something that is mentioned. Also her voice is very pleasant. It has a particular soft lilt to it.
I tend to converse in slower, more considered tones. She thought it rather quaint that I referred to our exchange of emails to set up our meeting as our “correspondence”. To me it merely seemed the right term. Perhaps this showed our amusing age difference. But Gloria has openly admitted she likes senior gentlemen – and I certainly like pretty young women! – so, perhaps the chemistry was right and the different ways we talk representing our own generations added to our warm acceptance of each other. We were each what the other wanted.
Well, as a beautiful young woman she was what I wanted. For Gloria, it was probably more a case of what she expected.

With the images that she has posted of herself on forums I’ve seen her with black hair and blonde. But on the day she visited me it was what I would call a strawberry blonde.
One of the things I have to make particular mention of is her mouth. That might sound weird but it is so fascinatingly perfect and beautiful. Indeed, I couldn’t believe anything forbidden could ever come out of it. (But then again, I was happy to put some forbidden things into it later).

She liked the hotel room I chose. I’m glad of that. I tend to choose hotel rooms which are a little old school and built for conversation and quietness rather than acres of space and voluminous spas (lobster pots) which I would never use anyway. So we sat in red corduroy velvet armchairs drinking champagne (okay, Australian sparkling ; but if you ask me, our best is better than that overpriced French stuff).
But they do put the corks in very well and for one dreadfully embarrassing moment I thought I wasn’t going to be able to pop it. Oh the shame of it! She offered to help; reassuring me she is quite strong. Well she might be but I was NOT going to start off this session with the emasculating gesture of asking the lady to remove the cork from a champagne bottle which I personally was incapable of doing. But in the end the bastard thing moved and I got it out.
“I was only pretending it was stuck”, I said. I think she got my self-deprecating humour.

I gave the time management over to Gloria. “I love talking to you” I told her, “But I expect to be shagged; you know how long it takes to satisfactorily shag a man, you know how much time you’ve got, so you pace it out.”
“Okay” she smiled, looking at me over her drink, quite confident with the brief. “We’ll talk some more first, if you’d like”.
Nice to know she wasn’t into regimental clock watching.

I don’t ask girls too many questions. Especially specific ones as I don’t think their business is any of my business. But Gloria was so open I even said to her “Please! There are some things I just don’t need to know”. She laughed. But in a way her candidness suits her. She is a girl that shows her face and openly declares a lot about herself.

So with her high speed conversational style we moved from pet cats to business to investment to the stock market to why people buy gold when the stock market is wobbly. All of which she would take in then move on to the next question. “How would one go about buying art?” she asked me.
“Use your heart first and your head second, that way even if it doesn’t increase in value you’ve still got something you like and don’t regret buying”, I told her.
It’s a bit like the way I select the girls I wish to see. Go first by feeling and intuition, then by your head. If there is something about her that is getting under your skin – follow through. But DO listen to your head.
“Good idea”, she agreed.

And that’s why you’re here Gloria, I thought to myself as I watched her cross her long legs and sip her drink. She has the most beautiful smile. There was something very warm and open about our communication. It was emotionally unguarded, kind, and mutually respectful.
I liked being secreted away in this warm hotel room talking to this beautiful young lady. It was cloudy and wet outside. Amazingly she was quiet for a moment. She looked at me and smiled knowingly. A moment where we seemed to once again realise who we are and who we are not...
Gloria: a girl with an avatar and an opinion on a sex-forum. But now I see her as someone else with another name.
Princely: a stalwart of reviewing with occasional comment rather than opinion. But now she must see me as someone else with another name.
I do hope we both find ourselves better than we imagined.

I guess the moment had come...

She drained her glass and went off to the bathroom. When she came back she sat astride me and kissed me deeply. That perfect mouth.
She removed my tie and undid my waistcoat.
“I like your braces.” She said, stretching one and letting it slap back onto my chest.

*

I asked Gloria Van Vaulker to sit on the bed so that I might remove her shoes – always a pleasure. I unclipped them and put them aside. She stood up again. Bare foot and bare legged in her short black dress. It was tight. It didn’t seem to have a zip. “Over the top” she told me. It became apparent that when she was in the bathroom she had taken off her underwear. So, with the removal of her dress I had naked Gloria.
I stepped back to look at her and was grateful that she could stand there and let me without any self consciousness. Why should she be self conscious? She was beautiful and I told her so: or whispered it.
She turned. I ran my hand over her celebrated arse. She told me it looked better a month ago when she was exercising more. I told her it looks pretty damn good now, and kissed it just to make my point. She removed my clothes – with some help from me. The socks are always the inelegant and clumsy bit aren’t they? : Especially if the rest of you is already stripped.

We pulled back the doona and got on the bed. Rolled around, pashed on. Giggled, sixty-nined. Did some serious nipple play I told her I’m not going to be “noticed” for a few days so she can rough me up if she wants.
“Like this?” Whack!
“That’s rough enough thanks.”
I got myself in a position so I could spend a good twenty minutes or so dining upon her. I can’t tell you how good that was or how lovely she tasted. Totally explored the given area. She came (or so she kindly says). We joked about that a bit. And I told her that actually I don’t give a damn, because this is all about me. She laughed but agreed – “It is!”
“Anyway, I’m going to get greedy”, I told her as I reclined.
“Okay.”
I loved the length and shape of her body – especially those thighs! – as she continued her treatment of me, with wet nipple play, nibbling and wet kissing.
She went down on me for the longest time – and with ball sucking and fabulously wet, wet, wet, techniques. That perfect mouth!
“You keep that up and you’ll be getting an early dinner”.
“Mm Mm” she said, seemingly unbothered.
“I’d really rather fuck you to conclusion”. (This was marvellous fun but I did want the knowledge that I had fucked Gloria Van Vaulker).
“Let’s see how we go", she said.
Condom on and we did fine. She got me up alright, did me cowgirl. That was a beautiful site. She fell forward, kissed me passionately. We rolled over to missionary. She laughed. I mean really laughed. “This is great!” She said.
I don’t know; I think she just liked my appreciation of her.” I’m going to last two minutes now”, I warned her as we got into position. I lied. I lasted about one. But God it felt good fucking her and looking at her pretty face. Such a lovely looking young woman. If she wasn’t such a mischievous cheeky character it would almost feel sinful to fuck her.

We got tidied up a bit and then to my happy surprise she refilled her glass and got back into the bed. She was being generous with time. Pull back that spring load on the pinball and ... Whack! We’re off again.... as the steel ball of her questions and statements bangs around causing me to laugh and share with this quite unrestrained inquiring girl.

What I really admired (and could easily identify with) was her love of life. There is a sense of exuberance and lightness about her. Being involved in the sex-industry can be many things. One of them – the most important – is fun! Lose sight of that and you might as well get out. Gloria still seems to be basking in that. She’s having a good time and she brings that positive energy with her.

In some ways Gloria Van Vaulker is unique. She is quite her own girl: Just read some of her posts, you’ll find out. But when you meet her, Gloria is exactly what you expect a girl in her market position to be: Very beautiful, faultlessly presented, very open, relaxed, communicable, good humoured, more than fair with time-management: and most importantly – she was rippingly good at sex!

She was worthy of our correspondence.

Gloria Van Vaulker's Website

P.
Loyal and Faithful to Every Working Lady.

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Naomi. Stiletto Brothel (Sydney). 9 August 2011

As a brothel, Stiletto would probably be the best I have ever visited. It is really good. Head and shoulders above any other establishment I have been in.

At their prices they’d want to be.

One could fairly ask me why I went there at all. Curiosity, spare cash, spare hours and more curiosity is the answer. Oh, and not knowing that much about Sydney.

But at least I wasn’t taken by surprise. I knew what I would be in for, which is probably why I didn’t get price shock, complain, or walk away: $370 per hour plus $50 for extras. For a man who can get a PSE in a Melbourne Brothel for half that price, $420 for an hour in a brothel is hard to take. Don’t even think of trying to avoid the extras in this joint. You might be lucky but I can’t imagine there would be a girl on the roster who would perform without that extra nut-squeezing $50. Still, there was no ambiguity from any of the girls I met when I specified that I would expect proper kissing and mutual oral for those extra dollars.

At their prices I should hope not.

If you’re going to try and sell something at such a high price you’d better have the goods. And on that level, what I saw today reassured me that Stiletto certainly does. I was met by an absolutely charming and faultlessly courteous receptionist.

At their prices she should be.

Shet took me past a water feature, through privacy curtains and to a most comfortable introduction room. Eleven o clock in the morning and ten good looking girls were introduced to me. I mean that – they were very pretty girls. If Stiletto chooses its talent carefully it shows. On looks I’d have stayed with any of them. On attitude I would have stayed with seven of them. On personal appeal I would have stayed with five of them. On immediate unhesitating lust and desire I would have stayed with three of them: But I chose Naomi (or she chose me).

Naomi is a brunette in her late twenties. She lives in a body that would suggest she is not unfamiliar with the gym – or at least some sort of exercise. Her face is very pretty. She has dark hair and green eyes. I liked her the moment she introduced herself to me. I liked her introduction even more. She is effusive without being pretentious. I didn’t feel sold to so much as inspired. Her enthusiasm seemed to be as much for the sex as for the booking: like she was dead keen to get laid (well who wouldn’t be at eleven o’clock on a Tuesday morning?) She was sexy alright.

At their prices that’s what I would expect her to be.

The procedure here is different from most parlours I have been to. The whole fistful of dollars was to be handed over to the lady in the room. Naomi was dressed in a burlesque style pink top, black fishnet stockings and very high heels. She was proud of her new shoes because she had just bought them. I told her she had made a very fine choice. They looked like they cost more than my punt. She was a good sport giggling with enthusiasm as I patted her sweet arse as we walked up the stairs. We went to a room called the Kama Sutra room. It was very comfortable but I believe it was pretty standard in this joint and on the next level there are rooms which make this one look second class. Everything was quality.

At their prices it would want to be.

The towels, the linen, the carpets, the fittings were all far better than you see in most parlours: even the booze was pretty good. What a treat that is. To have drinks available in the room. (What’s wrong with the laws in Victoria? Don’t get me started on our hideous patronising government). I was rather amused by the medical light that was available for “Inspection”. I’ve been inspected before but never with an actual built in medical light – at least not outside of my doctor’s surgery. Fortunately I came up A-OK by Naomi’s reckoning. I’d have been concerned if I hadn’t. Then it was money down ($420 for an hour of fun) and into the shower which was beautifully tiled with quality taps towels and soaps.

At their prices it would want to be.

Naomi returned five minutes later, offered me a drink and the count-down began. More importantly the sex began. She pressed her beautiful burlesqued body against me and kissed me deeply. Her hands were soft and womanly but firm. They felt great! She pushed me up against the wall (that’s my girl!); I turned around and just let her have her way with me for a while. She tweeked nipples and ran her threatening nails lightly over my skin. “Not a mark please, Naomi” I said to her.
“Trust me, I’m a professional” she reassured me.
“Fortunately she has a great sense of humour so when I laughed at the comment - “Why do I always get scared when somebody says that?” - she was in on the joke. Nevertheless, she was already aware of it and I’m sure she wouldn’t’ mark unless you wanted it, which I would actually love, especially coming from her but hey, one has to be practical. Otherwise it would be nice to have a souvenir to last a few days.

At their prices you'd want one.

“I want to do this to you too”, I told her. And she had her hands pressed against the wall in no time. I unclipped and removed her top. Her full bra remained on. Her g-string was barely there. One of the smallest I have ever seen. I slipped it down her shapely fish-net stockinged legs, to her tall, tall shoes and she stepped out of it. I held the tiny slip of a g-string to my face for a moment. It smelt heavenly. I put it aside. Her arse was peachy and soft and creamy. I slipped my fingers under to touch her pussy which was wet with anticipation. She turned to face me and I was struck again by how much I liked her face. She just emanated warmth and an enthusiasm to share. She kissed deeply.

She sat on the side of the bed and I removed her shoes and placed them carefully together on the bench, which was quite interesting because I hadn’t really thought about it. I just unbuckled them and placed them neatly together. But she said she found it incredibly erotic.
Really? Me just neatly putting your shoes aside? Well, we learn something new every day. But I did enjoy doing it I guess. I don’t really have a strong shoe-fetish but sexy is sexy and her shoes were sexy.

I rolled down her fishnet stockings so I could have this exquisite girl totally in the nudies and then went down on her for......ooooo..... a long time until she came. Her own dirty talk was first class and she told me she enjoyed the view in the mirror.

“Let’s get a charge-up” she suggested and got off the bed to get another tumbler of scotch each. Eleven thirty on a Tuesday morning. What is this? An episode of "Mad Men?" But I figured I’d paid for it so what the heck. Then I didn’t drink it because for the last few days I’d drunk enough to last me a week thanks. But she was happy to drink and I must admit I really liked the taste of the scotch on her sweet lips when she kissed me. And Naomi really knows how to kiss!
She asked me if she can kiss wet, because she likes it that way.
For one moment I thought I’d died and gone to heaven.
"Girl, you can kiss as wet as you like."
So she did.

Then we sixty-nined for a long time. Flipped it so each could get a ceiling mirror view. Then she wanted to treat me alone. “Just take it”.
“Okay”.
So she spat on my dick and my balls, licked it off, spat on my nipples, licked it off, drank more whisky, let that be part of her kissing and slobbering, and kissing and generally got me into a lather then fucked me cowgirl.
“You are fucking amazing!” I told her.

At that price she’d want to be.

And she was. I regretted not one cent. We tidied up and chatted a couple of minutes. I told her if she ever comes to Melbourne be sure to let me know. She laughed and told me she’s been banned from Melbourne. I didn’t ask why but I said that’d be right. A lot of good things are banned in Victoria.

Stiletto is like those escorts that work in the $800 range. They attract you and make you frustrated at the same time. “Why do you have to charge so frigging much!?” you think, as you book them anyway. “I charge this much because I am what I am” they reply. This leaves you nodding in acquiescence or rolling on the floor laughing, depending on the escort.

Stiletto sends the same message. It charges so much because it is what it is. On my one visit experience I would say Stiletto is incredibly good and it has a right to charge more. But this much more? Twice the price?! I don’t know. It certainly puts the client in an exposed position. To lay out the money Stiletto charges and end up with a dud punt wouldn’t just be demoralising, it would be infuriating.

Personally I ended up with a beautiful punt. Was I lucky? I don’t know. I’d like to think that every punt at Stiletto is as good as the one I experienced.

At their prices they should be.

As for Naomi: she was so good if I lived in Sydney I would damn the expense and return to Stiletto to see her again any day.

Even at their prices.

Stiletto Website

P.
Loyal and Faithful to Every Working Lady.

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