Sunday, June 04, 2006

1999 Part 2

So I called the number on my note that I made some time ago. I must had seen her ad and her pictures, but I didn't remember a thing. She picked up the phone and was surprised. The first thing she asked was how I got her number. So I explained that I got it from some online advertisement at some unknown time before.

Me: How much?
She: $500
Me: OK, where are you?

So I must had good reason to drop down her number, and she better be good for that price. I didn't bother to ask more questions. I don't often do that because price is the only thing they are willing to talk openly on the phone. She didn't ask questions either. Well, the story isn't anywhere near dramatic, but for me it would only happen in 1999. At any other times I would weight her seriously for that price before any commitment.

She directed me to a Beverly Hills luxury apartment. It was difficult as she had a very heavy European accent. She 'lived' in a street that she couldn't pronounce probably, and I wasn't local. There's a small area in Beverly Hills that have apartments, so it's very sought after I suppose. Parking was difficult - I had only one hour for visitors. It's more like New York - there's no landscape, fountains around the main entrance. The building gate wasn't locked that was strange for the high end building. I stepped into the small lobby and there was the lift. Then I saw a rich looking woman who was checking her mail box. Then she waited with me for the lift in the small lobby. We were close, quiet and alone: unusual feelings in LA. Then we went into the small lift; we were even closer.

She looked like a trophy 2nd wife for a subtle 50+ gentleman. She dressed conservatively in expensive light colored leather pants, and a matching blouse. She may be only 25 but she didn't dress like it or show off her nice body. She felt like, you guessed right, a younger Ivana. She also looked a little like an ex-porn star - nice body but covered up. She could be a porn star but the way she dressed, the star days seemed behind her.

She had big hair, big curls, below shoulder length. She's a blond but she didn't pick an eye catching color. Honestly her taste is a bit off for Hollywood. She did look foreign. So she couldn't be the 4th trophy wife, or the secret mistress. Or may be she wasn't, so she dressed the part appropriately.

She wasn't cute and pretty, but somewhat motherly beautiful. She's 5'10 on flat shoes. She's should be the definition of voluptuous - not those fat BBW that hijacked the word. A European/Asian model is skinny. A Brazilian model is voluptuous, at least for the ass. Her skin texture is European - pale and delicate. It's hard to wear her outfit well. Her leather pants wasn't tight as from sex shops. It looked like a normal pants but the texture made it hard to look good without filling it up with meat.

After I overcame her dress taste in the first minute, she became very attractive, and sexy without exposing much skin. Worse, she's standing tall right in front of me in a small confined space. Then it dawned on me that why I didn't try to hit on her? I never thought about it because it was a rare situation in LA.

The cons - she wasn't likely to be single. She was likely to be well-off. She lived there so she was unlikely to pick some stranger up. My date knew I was going in. If I were late for a minute I would lose time on the clock, or she would abandon me altogether. Remember that nobody was around to answer calls at the time.

The pros - for some reason she wasn't afraid of me a bit. If I failed to get anywhere and made a fool out of myself, who knew and who would care? It's also possible that she's a high end call girl. And you know that they don't refuse easy money as long as it's a secret. They would prefer apartments rather than houses, in that sort of posh post code areas, and they can afford it. But even if she was, it looked like she would charge more than my date. Should I keep my date instead?

It was a tall building. But when all those thought were going on in my head, the lift reached my floor. If I didn't go out, she would be scared. But while I reluctantly began to move my body, I still wanted to try something desperate to hit on her. It was silly not to, though too late.

Then the unthinkable happened. She called my name. I thought I was dreaming. I was totally speechless for a second. Then it turned out to be so simple. She was my date after all. She screened me in a funny sort of way. She peeped behind the mailboxes when I was outside talking to her on the phone. She secretly opened the main gate for me. That's why she wasn't afraid of me and followed me into the lift. Though she wasn't exactly sure if I were her date for some reasons.

Now I could concentrate on her and her alone. The apartment was nice, though I was pretty sure she didn't live there. The owner, may be an high end call girl, may be someone lived beyond her means, may be a madam, hired the apartment out hourly like a motel, when she's wasn't using it. $50 an hour? Cheaper than a motel? No way, I would not let it out less than $100. It made me more curious. She couldn't take risk of going to public hotels. Maybe she was short of time to check in and check out. Maybe that's her friend's home.

I was still looking for a catch somewhere. So I asked politely, "Can I see more of you before I commit to stay?" I was thinking that she would unbutton part of her blouse, or change into something more comfortable, getting rid of the leather pants. But she started complaining softly, saying that all I wanted was a free strip show. Once she stripped and I would leave. At the same time she was stripping down to her sexy underwear. That was unnecessary. When she started to strip, I was already too happy. But I was too happy to say yes; I only managed to stared at her speechless.

She was all natural. Big bouncy self supporting breast, big ass, narrow waist, flat stomach. She wasn't at all muscular and I thought she didn't even need to work out. She was very pale but went to the beach recently. She had a very clear, very contrasting bikini mark. She said she was Polish.

I was like in a candy jar, all 5'10 of it, and didn't know what to take and where to start. I checked her out thoroughly with everything I got, in a short time, as I was in a hurry to fuck her. Before that I wouldn't believe that everything was real. She wasn't exceptionally good looking nor she was exceptionally expensive. But everything was a pleasant surprise, starting from the mysterious number on my note paper.

She was easy going. Show off in front of the mirror? No problem. Shower together? No problem. She was anything but submissive. She was like short of time. She didn't really rush me, but in the shower she would seek out my penis and gave it a handjob, so it would cum faster. I did get to apply shower gel for her, but most of the time I was hiding and protecting my penis.

I didn't remember the sex much. I had to go because I only have one hour for the free parking. I learned to observe parking regulations at all cost. I got a ticket before, and the worst thing you can do is to get a parking ticket where you committed a crime.

It felt more like she worked for some exclusive agency, or had a sugar daddy in an exclusive relationship. She moonlighted on the side. $500 may be a small amount but it's hard to resist when someone call you up all of a sudden and want to give it to you for a little in return. Well everybody want more shoes and, in her case, more leather pants.

I never thought I would see her again.

A couple of month later, I went to LA to give myself a treat. There is Bel Air and not far behind is a hotel with the name Bel Age in it. That was the age when even a toilet seat maker had an Internet strategy. The hotel manager must be new to online biding and he must had made a mistake. I got a room cheaper than a motel. The other good thing at the time was that the staff wouldn't know that you are a cheapo using the Internet. (Now they know and treat you very differently.) I was early and there was no room ready. I was treated like any other Bel Age guest, and I got a huge suit instead.

There was a balcony with garden furnitures, overlooking a large lower level roof top garden. There was a kitchen area with a kitchen sink. There was a working area with a large work desk. Then there was a living room area with spacious sofas. Then the bedroom area on a split level. Deep inside was a large bathroom.

Then there was the same old problem. I couldn't give advance notice as I couldn't be sure how long it would take me to get to Bel Age in the heavy traffic. When I got there and started calling, the good and the popular would be mostly tied up.

I was initially shocked by the huge suite I got for peanuts. Then I though who should be the lucky girl to share with me? It had to be her. It's too easy to be ripped-off by an outcall girl. The big money is on incall. If your time is precious and you are popular, outcall has to be a lot more expensive to compensate. I knew she would deliver, and I knew her appearance would go well with the suite.

Again she answered the phone and was surprised. Of course she wouldn't remember me on the phone. I told her I saw her before and I offered her this time $350. Well, $300 is respectable and the extra $50 for her above average looks. Obviously that was close or below the minimum she ever charged. She didn't bargain hard, but accepted it reluctantly. I was surprised a little. Not that she would accept it, but I thought she would ask questions and bargain hard.

When the door bell rang (well, there was a door bell!) from afar, I walked from the balcony across the work area, across the living room, and through a corridor lined with paintings on both sides. There were lights mounted above each painting for optimum viewing.

When I opened the door she was relieved. Since it took me long to get to the door, she might think that I hesitated to let her in. It could happen to everybody. She remembered me at first sight, smiled sweetly and greeted me like a long lost friend. If I weren't in Bel Age, I wouldn't have called her. The worst thing you can do is to call somebody up after several months. If you call a total stranger, she will hope that you will come back next week or next month - absolutely not a couple of months.

Now she looked very different - a Hollywood / Beverly Hills babe. Now she had stylish straight below shoulder length blond hair. The color was outstanding - she told me it was $200 a puff just for the color. She had nice skin and facial structure so she didn't need much makeup. She had a tight tube top or something, might be black. I am sure she had an expensive black leather pants. It was tight with design, clean lines and cutting, far from trashy. Now she looked 25 and nobody would challenge her if she claimed a younger age. Maybe her new patron had different taste. Maybe she wasn't new in town anymore and had to work harder on her appearance. Maybe her clients from the agency were of a different kind.

By the way, with some lame excuse she up sold me another $50 to make it $400, just because my suite would cost a fortune if I weren't bidding via on the Internet. She didn't know.

We started on the sofa. There was a kitchen sink that I could put her on. But I had done it before on something else. It had to be custom made for your height or there would be not much fun. Soon I opted for the bed. Again there wasn't much to brag about, or I would not have offered her $350, take it or leave it.

After sex we relaxed on the sofa. She smoked a cigarette with me, drank my plastic bottle of coke that I brought along instead of using the mini fridge. She took her time. She was so self-confident that she walked around naked, walked near the balcony where there was strong sunlight coming in. She was also spreading her body on the sofa while we talked.

I saw her body clearly in many angles. Being all natural, I noticed some minor lines on her breast. But simple laser procedures would get rid of that and even tightens.

She told me that there was a roof top swimming pool in Bel Age. And Bel Age has the same owner as Bellagio. And that her hair color alone cost $200 ... I said the suite was cheap and she didn't believe me. I didn't dare to say that it was motel cheap. I said I got a it at a big discount, and that I could deduct the tax from it, and that was true. I had a empty shell Internet business for that purpose.

Finally she was a bit reluctant to go. I think she had to be somewhere for her sugar daddy, or some agency appointment. But she insisted that I wait for her to come back, not just for another round it seemed! I asked how much and she wouldn't say. She just said she would give me a good deal that I couldn't refuse. It was very tempting. But I prepared for the plan B first. I said I had something to do later and then I had to go. But I could come back some other day just for her with no distractions.

For a few hundred more, I could have a pretty woman fantasy for the evening at Bel Age, if only for an hour or two. She could have gotten me at the spot if she wasn't busy at the time. It was tempting and I wanted to waste her precious time as much as possible with minimum expenses. But really I didn't fancy going out with her say for dinner. I did enjoy doing that but only with 'compatible' looking pretty woman. She's too high profile that day with 200-dollar color blond hair and her black leather pants. I didn't think I can enjoy dinner with everybody turning their heads. The beach may be OK but I knew her too little to have conversation and fun. As for the sex, it's diminishing return on the same day. I decided against it.

I never call her again. If I waste that much time ub traffic, I could have many more choices. But perhaps unconsciously I wanted to preserve those memories those images - her 5'10 figure stretching lazily on the sofa, her sensational hair, in Bel Age. Even if I offer a much higher bid, I cannot pick the exact hotel. And the rack rate is impossible for me. And since I saw her twice within a couple of months, I know that she won't look that good anymore the next time.

1 comment:

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