I must admit, I don't seem to be able to find the freeway entrance in complicated situations. For example, I just couldn't get into the correct lane early enough to get in. I have to U-turn in heavy traffic, often keeping turning right first! I even have to turn on the GPS for just getting into the freeway.
And when I got in, I miss my exit to go home! Google seems to be infected too. Instead of going straight into the freeway, it asked me to get off, drove at the opposition direction to a toll road. But before that, I have to take a winding hilly road in an residential area. It took twice the time to get home compared to the usual route without traffic. I just listened to Google without the spirit to fight it.
I must admit the resurrected tune Impression isn't the worst. The other one is - you guessed it - Sihouette. I hated it so much because it made teens girls screaming.
Watching afar at your passing sihouette
Look! The city lights shining in the night sky
A ray of lost in your bright eyes
Made my eyes follow helplessly
Staring at your strides so beautiful
Hair on your shoulders floating in the wind
Sad dreams in your bright eyes
Seems to bring out a little arrogance
I hope not to lose you ever
Staring at your talk and smile
Following you in and out of the city lights
I hope to know you and fall in love together
Walking briskly by your side
The city lights look more beautiful and elegant
Your clear eyes bright like the stars
Add beauty to the night
I hope to be with you morning and night
By your side when you talk and smile
By your side in and out of the city lights
I hope you will fall in love with me
There's more coincidence than fiction. All of a sudden she decided to come out to play the 2nd time in a week. I didn't get any confirmation the night before, even though I told her I promise to leave her toes alone.
It wasn't really about the toes. Last time I asked her to play in the shower and she agreed unwillingly. She let me washed her private parts and her feet and other harmless things. Then I carried her to bed, still very wet and still with soap on. I dried her legs and below while she dried her body.
She was rather obedient, fairly cooperate but with a moment of defiant like a kid. She stood up by the side of the bed for a split second. Everything went perfect after that. I got what I wanted but I remembered that instant of defiant.
My message about the toes showed her that I am a flexible and easy going person. And also I asked for pole position but again I said it's not necessary.
I tried to book the pole position at lunch time. She replied late the next morning. Before and after her replies, her ad still read starting at 1pm. That is very unsettling. If I book 1pm you should say starting at 2! Are you inviting double booking or worse, threeosme without my consent?
Then later she said she can do 2! What does it look like? I booked her the night before but some VIP took my pole position? OK, I can live with that. I told her my booking is flexible and I do mean it. But letting another guy go first when I actually book in advance make me very jealous. If I have evidence that she actually did that I would tell her how I feel.
She told me that her check-in time was 2pm. Knowing Chanel so well, I know this acceptable truth is good to hear. But I know it's not and difficult to disproof. It's like being stuffed a dead cat into your mouth and you can't do anything about it.
I was early, almost an hour early. It was suddenly a very hot day. Too many tourists. A few degree hotter than my own city. What do I do? Massage of course! I tried to find one palor that doesn't want my cock via the internet. It is easy but I have to pay for membership. It was just too darn difficult to find a secret card and enter all the details on a 5" phone. I gave up and wasted time leaving only a possible half hour session.
So I drove to the nearest one with good review on YELP!!! It was very silly as women don't like it. The men who like it may be sock puppets. But some say the place is nice and clean so I tried. My woman is actually quite attractive in comparison. 30's with decent face and skin. A bit of meat with good curves. Tight jeans with gorgeous behind. It was a good massage and she tried to antice me to do the hour. But I had to go. I tried to hug her at the shop front but she refused gracefully. Maybe I return for a massage and check her out.
During the massage I got a message that she would be late for 5 min. It wasn't just 5 min. I had to wait in my car under the hot sun. She texted to say that she was sorry, waiting for checkin in the lobby!
Well she told me she was checking-in at 2pm, and was running late like 5 min. It was more like 25. What does it look like? Somebody trumped me for the pole position. And he had such a happy time that they ran over time, big time. And I had to wait in the parking lot under the intense sun. I was boiling over.
I wasn't going to revenge or something. I just want to let her know that I'm not stupid and please cut that crab next time. I considered to leave but I liked her anyway so I cooled down.
I went to the lobby to cool down. The massage palor didn't even have cool enough air-conditioning. It was a tourist area and the hotel is built like a fairy tail city. I entered the lobby and immediately blamed myself for being so unlucky.
There are two thing you hate most when you go into a hotel. (1) The other guy's escort is much prettier and maybe cheaper too. (2) A slightly overweight young woman, or a hot slightly middle-aged woman passed you with a smile. You could have got it for free if you just go ahead and chat her up.
I saw a tall model checking-in, very out of place in a tourist area in the middle of the day. And she was single. Looking around, you can see old people from other countries, kids, and a few teenagers who I thought was Helen's group of friends checking-in together.
Fuck. Somebody's fucking sugar baby? How model was she? Well over six, feet total. Not just half an inch over. 3 or 4 inch high heels. Not stripper style but classic killer spike style. Perfectly straight hair falling below shoulder, flowing in the air. Obviously well gloomed even at afar. She was wearing a body hugging dress! From neck to knees, hugging! A little flesh on the neck and shoulders. So sexy and so classy. Exactly like a teen model! What's the fucking chance you met other's super sugar baby when your hooker flakes on you and worse, thinking that you are a stupid shit?
I was trying to sit on the waiting area to have a better look. It wasn't full but you will be sitting next to some women and children and teens so it won't be easy to check her out. I went at the far corner and without glasses, I couldn't see a thing. From that distance, she seemed to be a super teen model but all dressed to meet and kill her sugar daddy. I watched helplessly as she quickly walked out of the lobby.
It did cross my mind that she could be Helen. Of course she could be, but it was so wishing thinking I didn't allow myself to think about that for more than a split second. I know she is in the fashion industry, but maybe a cheap labor selling probably jeans. She is tall but I always saw her wearing socks. The first time I saw a pair of dirty socks in the bathroom. The 2nd time a pair of pure bright white socks to go with her bright white bra. Not the best to go with killer high heels. And above all, why would she dressed like that? I'm not at that league yet. Maybe I'm, but I'm not going to spend that sort of money on superficial things.
I wished she was Helen. Then she was telling me the truth all along, checking-in at 2, being late, and had to wait a long time in the lobby. No games. It could be true as all the people sitting in the lobby was waiting to check-in after all. There was only one receptionist and everybody was in slow motion, so much so that you don't know they were waiting for something.
Now if, a big IF, she was Helen, I would think she had some other secrets and would hide everything so I wouldn't ask questions. I had no way to know. I had experience of these things. Some hide their expensive cars, some dress like a poor college girl. So you wouldn't think that it's all about money. And that they need help for college or something. That's OK. All is about money. But I would like to enjoy the outfits too since I contributed to it. I like costumes! Killer heels!
I got her message with the room number soon. The timing was right if she was really Helen. I was telling myself no no no, it couldn't be. If it was she, it would be my proudest moment walking around with her in the hotel parking lot.
I had a lot of lunch with Chanel, and Grace at 6 ft invited me to lunch more than once. Both are super and made me proud, but not the proudest. Not the woman in leather pants who had the aura of Ivanka Trump when she was in her 30's. Not the girl with perfect body that asked me to shop with her. If she wear a skirt or short shorts on high heels I will look like a millionare with a misstress. She isn't that pretty though but her makeup makeup for it. So far the proudest moment is the girl with ass long blond hair who gloomed herself like a princess. She also liked to spend her money on expensive clothes and didn't hide it. She looked like a atheletic cheerleader, pretty too. And she learned to be a makeup artist so she always look best in school.
My proudest moment was when I drove her around, got off to 7/11, asked the teen boy for direction to the nearest motel, and brought some condoms too! Meanwhile she strolled causually around the shop to get herself a drink or a snack. I must be god in his eyes.
So I checked the room number on my phone, so as not to disturb tourists. She opened the door and hide behind it as usual. When I turned around, I was shocked.
The super sugar baby teen model was Helen.
She was even showing off. She kept the dress on, while usually she took everything off except for her panties and sometimes the bra. She took off her high heels but put it in front of the bed.
She said sorry that she was late, driving back from LA. Isn't the truth is the simplest and sweetest? No games. She was telling the truth all the time. One look at her and I asked, "Looking for a job in LA?" Immediately fear came to me. I was afraid she wouldn't be around long. I told her LA isn't that far away. We can always set something up, and bla bla bla.
It did crossed my mind that she was doing an outcall in LA. I remembered the Czech girl I met. She fitted me in for cheap between $700 agency calls. She brought a suitcase of clothes for that. But for me she went for the girl next door look. She is less tall, holding my arm and said "let's go" when we met. Helen is undoubtly more model like.
I just couldn't visualize wearing that in the morning for an outcall. For a showoff evening? Yes. If sneaking around in the morning, I wouldn't ask for that outfit. And if she does that, she could have relocated to LA.
I took a good look at her and her dress. Proud moments. So proud of myself. Then put down the funny money from tourist ATM's. Went to the freshly clean bathroom to take a nice shower.
But I slipped off the tub. Four limbs pointing at the sky. Because the tub wasn't deep I fell out, hitting my ribs on the tub wall. And because the tub wasn't deep, the fall wasn't that great. If I'm any older it could be fatal. I seemed to be OK except for a little pain at the ribs that hit the wall. But it had to be. I don't care if I have to go to the hospital later on. I was OK for sex, for now.
Chanel's DFK is mermerizing for her beauty. She would rather be on the receiving end of everything as being fair punishment. Helen's DFK is mermerizing for her cheerfulness and willingness. She likes to do things rather than you at her back.
I let her stay dry this time but I still went after her toes gently. My crush was satisfied last time and I wasn't at all intense, but it would be different if I wash her feet thoroughly again. She was encouraging because of the message I sent her.
After I rested, I DFK's her again. I don't know why I didn't try it with Chanel. But once I demanded to DFK her for 10 mins at least as a condition for booking. She refused and challenged me if any other girls would do that. I always let her off easy. But Helen received my DFK cheerfully. The other reason maybe Chanel and many others find it a good time to cleanup while I was resting. So, no more intimacy after that.
Then I attempted some pillow talk. I got an confesson out of her. She has helpers for her email and messages. Of course we all know that. For emails, most. Messages, not so much. She was like confessing to her parents that she did something wrong.
I think she confessed because she doesn't want anymore embarassing messages to get to her circle of friends. And that's why my message is so subtle, but effective.
I got to the bathroom and showered very carefully! And that's the time I had trouble getting into the freeway. And once I got in, Google asked me to get out!
I know why girls cry for the song. They all want to be that girl. And they all want to meet their prince on a white horse like that, and fall in love! But they know that most of them aren't and won't! I can't say I cried for Helen but I had goosebumps. She is all that with a twist that she is a hooker. There is a little sadness but I'm happy for her. She got talent, and she is gifted.
And when I got in, I miss my exit to go home! Google seems to be infected too. Instead of going straight into the freeway, it asked me to get off, drove at the opposition direction to a toll road. But before that, I have to take a winding hilly road in an residential area. It took twice the time to get home compared to the usual route without traffic. I just listened to Google without the spirit to fight it.
I must admit the resurrected tune Impression isn't the worst. The other one is - you guessed it - Sihouette. I hated it so much because it made teens girls screaming.
Watching afar at your passing sihouette
Look! The city lights shining in the night sky
A ray of lost in your bright eyes
Made my eyes follow helplessly
Staring at your strides so beautiful
Hair on your shoulders floating in the wind
Sad dreams in your bright eyes
Seems to bring out a little arrogance
I hope not to lose you ever
Staring at your talk and smile
Following you in and out of the city lights
I hope to know you and fall in love together
Walking briskly by your side
The city lights look more beautiful and elegant
Your clear eyes bright like the stars
Add beauty to the night
I hope to be with you morning and night
By your side when you talk and smile
By your side in and out of the city lights
I hope you will fall in love with me
There's more coincidence than fiction. All of a sudden she decided to come out to play the 2nd time in a week. I didn't get any confirmation the night before, even though I told her I promise to leave her toes alone.
It wasn't really about the toes. Last time I asked her to play in the shower and she agreed unwillingly. She let me washed her private parts and her feet and other harmless things. Then I carried her to bed, still very wet and still with soap on. I dried her legs and below while she dried her body.
She was rather obedient, fairly cooperate but with a moment of defiant like a kid. She stood up by the side of the bed for a split second. Everything went perfect after that. I got what I wanted but I remembered that instant of defiant.
My message about the toes showed her that I am a flexible and easy going person. And also I asked for pole position but again I said it's not necessary.
I tried to book the pole position at lunch time. She replied late the next morning. Before and after her replies, her ad still read starting at 1pm. That is very unsettling. If I book 1pm you should say starting at 2! Are you inviting double booking or worse, threeosme without my consent?
Then later she said she can do 2! What does it look like? I booked her the night before but some VIP took my pole position? OK, I can live with that. I told her my booking is flexible and I do mean it. But letting another guy go first when I actually book in advance make me very jealous. If I have evidence that she actually did that I would tell her how I feel.
She told me that her check-in time was 2pm. Knowing Chanel so well, I know this acceptable truth is good to hear. But I know it's not and difficult to disproof. It's like being stuffed a dead cat into your mouth and you can't do anything about it.
I was early, almost an hour early. It was suddenly a very hot day. Too many tourists. A few degree hotter than my own city. What do I do? Massage of course! I tried to find one palor that doesn't want my cock via the internet. It is easy but I have to pay for membership. It was just too darn difficult to find a secret card and enter all the details on a 5" phone. I gave up and wasted time leaving only a possible half hour session.
So I drove to the nearest one with good review on YELP!!! It was very silly as women don't like it. The men who like it may be sock puppets. But some say the place is nice and clean so I tried. My woman is actually quite attractive in comparison. 30's with decent face and skin. A bit of meat with good curves. Tight jeans with gorgeous behind. It was a good massage and she tried to antice me to do the hour. But I had to go. I tried to hug her at the shop front but she refused gracefully. Maybe I return for a massage and check her out.
During the massage I got a message that she would be late for 5 min. It wasn't just 5 min. I had to wait in my car under the hot sun. She texted to say that she was sorry, waiting for checkin in the lobby!
Well she told me she was checking-in at 2pm, and was running late like 5 min. It was more like 25. What does it look like? Somebody trumped me for the pole position. And he had such a happy time that they ran over time, big time. And I had to wait in the parking lot under the intense sun. I was boiling over.
I wasn't going to revenge or something. I just want to let her know that I'm not stupid and please cut that crab next time. I considered to leave but I liked her anyway so I cooled down.
I went to the lobby to cool down. The massage palor didn't even have cool enough air-conditioning. It was a tourist area and the hotel is built like a fairy tail city. I entered the lobby and immediately blamed myself for being so unlucky.
There are two thing you hate most when you go into a hotel. (1) The other guy's escort is much prettier and maybe cheaper too. (2) A slightly overweight young woman, or a hot slightly middle-aged woman passed you with a smile. You could have got it for free if you just go ahead and chat her up.
I saw a tall model checking-in, very out of place in a tourist area in the middle of the day. And she was single. Looking around, you can see old people from other countries, kids, and a few teenagers who I thought was Helen's group of friends checking-in together.
Fuck. Somebody's fucking sugar baby? How model was she? Well over six, feet total. Not just half an inch over. 3 or 4 inch high heels. Not stripper style but classic killer spike style. Perfectly straight hair falling below shoulder, flowing in the air. Obviously well gloomed even at afar. She was wearing a body hugging dress! From neck to knees, hugging! A little flesh on the neck and shoulders. So sexy and so classy. Exactly like a teen model! What's the fucking chance you met other's super sugar baby when your hooker flakes on you and worse, thinking that you are a stupid shit?
I was trying to sit on the waiting area to have a better look. It wasn't full but you will be sitting next to some women and children and teens so it won't be easy to check her out. I went at the far corner and without glasses, I couldn't see a thing. From that distance, she seemed to be a super teen model but all dressed to meet and kill her sugar daddy. I watched helplessly as she quickly walked out of the lobby.
It did cross my mind that she could be Helen. Of course she could be, but it was so wishing thinking I didn't allow myself to think about that for more than a split second. I know she is in the fashion industry, but maybe a cheap labor selling probably jeans. She is tall but I always saw her wearing socks. The first time I saw a pair of dirty socks in the bathroom. The 2nd time a pair of pure bright white socks to go with her bright white bra. Not the best to go with killer high heels. And above all, why would she dressed like that? I'm not at that league yet. Maybe I'm, but I'm not going to spend that sort of money on superficial things.
I wished she was Helen. Then she was telling me the truth all along, checking-in at 2, being late, and had to wait a long time in the lobby. No games. It could be true as all the people sitting in the lobby was waiting to check-in after all. There was only one receptionist and everybody was in slow motion, so much so that you don't know they were waiting for something.
Now if, a big IF, she was Helen, I would think she had some other secrets and would hide everything so I wouldn't ask questions. I had no way to know. I had experience of these things. Some hide their expensive cars, some dress like a poor college girl. So you wouldn't think that it's all about money. And that they need help for college or something. That's OK. All is about money. But I would like to enjoy the outfits too since I contributed to it. I like costumes! Killer heels!
I got her message with the room number soon. The timing was right if she was really Helen. I was telling myself no no no, it couldn't be. If it was she, it would be my proudest moment walking around with her in the hotel parking lot.
I had a lot of lunch with Chanel, and Grace at 6 ft invited me to lunch more than once. Both are super and made me proud, but not the proudest. Not the woman in leather pants who had the aura of Ivanka Trump when she was in her 30's. Not the girl with perfect body that asked me to shop with her. If she wear a skirt or short shorts on high heels I will look like a millionare with a misstress. She isn't that pretty though but her makeup makeup for it. So far the proudest moment is the girl with ass long blond hair who gloomed herself like a princess. She also liked to spend her money on expensive clothes and didn't hide it. She looked like a atheletic cheerleader, pretty too. And she learned to be a makeup artist so she always look best in school.
My proudest moment was when I drove her around, got off to 7/11, asked the teen boy for direction to the nearest motel, and brought some condoms too! Meanwhile she strolled causually around the shop to get herself a drink or a snack. I must be god in his eyes.
So I checked the room number on my phone, so as not to disturb tourists. She opened the door and hide behind it as usual. When I turned around, I was shocked.
The super sugar baby teen model was Helen.
She was even showing off. She kept the dress on, while usually she took everything off except for her panties and sometimes the bra. She took off her high heels but put it in front of the bed.
She said sorry that she was late, driving back from LA. Isn't the truth is the simplest and sweetest? No games. She was telling the truth all the time. One look at her and I asked, "Looking for a job in LA?" Immediately fear came to me. I was afraid she wouldn't be around long. I told her LA isn't that far away. We can always set something up, and bla bla bla.
It did crossed my mind that she was doing an outcall in LA. I remembered the Czech girl I met. She fitted me in for cheap between $700 agency calls. She brought a suitcase of clothes for that. But for me she went for the girl next door look. She is less tall, holding my arm and said "let's go" when we met. Helen is undoubtly more model like.
I just couldn't visualize wearing that in the morning for an outcall. For a showoff evening? Yes. If sneaking around in the morning, I wouldn't ask for that outfit. And if she does that, she could have relocated to LA.
I took a good look at her and her dress. Proud moments. So proud of myself. Then put down the funny money from tourist ATM's. Went to the freshly clean bathroom to take a nice shower.
But I slipped off the tub. Four limbs pointing at the sky. Because the tub wasn't deep I fell out, hitting my ribs on the tub wall. And because the tub wasn't deep, the fall wasn't that great. If I'm any older it could be fatal. I seemed to be OK except for a little pain at the ribs that hit the wall. But it had to be. I don't care if I have to go to the hospital later on. I was OK for sex, for now.
Chanel's DFK is mermerizing for her beauty. She would rather be on the receiving end of everything as being fair punishment. Helen's DFK is mermerizing for her cheerfulness and willingness. She likes to do things rather than you at her back.
I let her stay dry this time but I still went after her toes gently. My crush was satisfied last time and I wasn't at all intense, but it would be different if I wash her feet thoroughly again. She was encouraging because of the message I sent her.
After I rested, I DFK's her again. I don't know why I didn't try it with Chanel. But once I demanded to DFK her for 10 mins at least as a condition for booking. She refused and challenged me if any other girls would do that. I always let her off easy. But Helen received my DFK cheerfully. The other reason maybe Chanel and many others find it a good time to cleanup while I was resting. So, no more intimacy after that.
Then I attempted some pillow talk. I got an confesson out of her. She has helpers for her email and messages. Of course we all know that. For emails, most. Messages, not so much. She was like confessing to her parents that she did something wrong.
I think she confessed because she doesn't want anymore embarassing messages to get to her circle of friends. And that's why my message is so subtle, but effective.
I got to the bathroom and showered very carefully! And that's the time I had trouble getting into the freeway. And once I got in, Google asked me to get out!
I know why girls cry for the song. They all want to be that girl. And they all want to meet their prince on a white horse like that, and fall in love! But they know that most of them aren't and won't! I can't say I cried for Helen but I had goosebumps. She is all that with a twist that she is a hooker. There is a little sadness but I'm happy for her. She got talent, and she is gifted.
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