Caroline ran out to open the gate in a school PE uniform with a t-shirt and a short. It was natural in the suburbs but surreal in East Hollywood. She is too pretty for that. She was as pretty as the last time I say her even without her styling gel on her short hair, now looked more like a school girl cut.
Her house is so close to the entrance that I felt weird. Now maybe it was a converted garage; they fenced off the old driveway and convert everything in the old compound into living spaces. They also added steps in front of the garage so it didn't look like a garage.
At this point, still, I was expecting her apartment to be a sanctuary amid the East Hollywood chaos. But it was not to be. When you enter the door, you can see a small bed next to the wall by the street. There is a partition wall so there is a living "room" area leading to the "bedroom" area. The kitchen is wide open to the "bedroom". Behind the partition is the bathroom. So everything is square with little separation. There is a narrow long bench table along the living room with a slim but old portable on it. There is stuff everywhere.
This is certainly a woman's house. I can't say that the stuff is neatly piled up but if it were a man's house, it would be a chaotic dump. One wall in the "kitchen" is devoted to hanging clothes with bags, more than any typical walk-in closet in California. The tower hanger in the bathroom is occupied with layers of something like scarfs.
Her apartment is very lived in, like for a long time. Everything is old, bathroom rub, bed sheet.
Under the outdoor sun, I realized that she is a bit out of place in California. Her skin is too pale for a native, amplified by her short.
Basically, we did the same thing last time in a 4-star boutique hotel instead of a converted garage with piles of stuff. We kissed standing up until I peeled off her clothes. I kissed her perfect breasts and went down on her. When the tension seemed to be diminished, I went down further on her legs but she seemed to be guiding me back to where I was. I really don't know what kind of finishing school she came from.
In my mind, I prepared different scenarios of how I would ask her to wash her feet and how to torture her. But I had no desire to check the bathroom and there would be too many obstacles to lift her out. And there were too many things to do and too little time of 30 minutes.
I flipped her over to go for her starfish. This time she knew to lie comfortably while I did my things. I sort of hinted to ask if she minded. Not only that she didn't, she was enjoying it, turning on a subtle soundtrack.
This time I came fully prepared. I enjoyed the blowjob looking at her and not looking, knowing that she wouldn't stop unless I told her to. And I didn't need to stop her because I was invincible until she slipped in her hands. For the ride, I took the effort to check her out like a piece of art or a piece of porn so I could remember her better. Since I didn't tell her to stop, she was trying to make me and herself cum. I could see on her face that it would be hard but it could be working if I let her try. Instead, I put her down squarely on the bed, went on top, put myself in her and started kissing.
I pounded her a lot harder than last time while kissing her. Practice and mental preparation works. Her "bed" was a bit bouncy so there was a lot to show for my effort. So we went up and down, up and down with her juice flowing all over. This time it was her who vacuumed me to keep our lips together while I concentrated on the pounding. It was so lovely to look at when I remembered to open my eyes.
When I was about to finish I needed so much concentration that I had to let go of her lips and held her tight. Then I collapsed on top of her and inside her. She held me like that until I got off to clean up. The cat was in the bathroom then.
Again she held my neck to kiss goodbye. I liked her just the same but the lovely feeling was distracted by overwhelming thoughts about her everything. She is more like a struggling actress in Hollywood than a struggling model. I was less sure about the tension in her body but the juice had to be real. The effort she put on her face had to be real. And fortunately, she didn't talk a lot and there was little chance acting.
She wrote about wanting to be a nurse in her profile and she did look like a nurse. Remember Rebecca? I was going to talk to Carol about what I know about nurses and she could be living near a hospital. But one glance at her nails I know that she couldn't be.
First, is she overcharging me and by how much? When she comes to our 4-star hotels she worth every bit of the money she charges. Now if she is desperate enough she can just advertise on Backpages and get more money per day than the hassle of traveling through the traffic. I can handle this by not dealing with it. It's not my business to deal with it. As long as she is giving my money's worth like the first two times, I can't fault her.
I'm honored to be invited to her home. She does like me one way or the other. Maybe she invites everybody who will come. Maybe she picks those who can blend in, like boyfriends, friends and casting agents. At least she feels safe about me but maybe she is desperate enough.
Is that really her home? She could be borrowing a girl friend's home, but who will let somebody fuck with strangers on her bed? Some desperate people? Is that really her bed? Such a seemingly classy person has to be desperate to let nasty people leaving nasty things on her bed. Unless it's nice people she likes.
Can such a young pretty girl live alone in that part of the city? She could be living with her boyfriend but she probably won't be that passionate. Maybe her boyfriend doesn't know. But the bed is too small for two. It's hard to hide things but I didn't check.
Now I doubt if she can afford such a good booker. Maybe it's those sort of mentors taking care of new girls. Maybe it's one of her friends. Maybe it's Chanel 2 whose turn of duty to do the bookings. Maybe it's herself all along! Wow, such a simple and useful revelation that never dawned on me.
Next time I know what to look for if there is next time. Certainly, I like to go to her home if she allows me. So much connection. I'm not a lot better than I had to let go of Chanel 2 last time. But I can find something to sell, or can I?
Her house is so close to the entrance that I felt weird. Now maybe it was a converted garage; they fenced off the old driveway and convert everything in the old compound into living spaces. They also added steps in front of the garage so it didn't look like a garage.
At this point, still, I was expecting her apartment to be a sanctuary amid the East Hollywood chaos. But it was not to be. When you enter the door, you can see a small bed next to the wall by the street. There is a partition wall so there is a living "room" area leading to the "bedroom" area. The kitchen is wide open to the "bedroom". Behind the partition is the bathroom. So everything is square with little separation. There is a narrow long bench table along the living room with a slim but old portable on it. There is stuff everywhere.
This is certainly a woman's house. I can't say that the stuff is neatly piled up but if it were a man's house, it would be a chaotic dump. One wall in the "kitchen" is devoted to hanging clothes with bags, more than any typical walk-in closet in California. The tower hanger in the bathroom is occupied with layers of something like scarfs.
Her apartment is very lived in, like for a long time. Everything is old, bathroom rub, bed sheet.
Under the outdoor sun, I realized that she is a bit out of place in California. Her skin is too pale for a native, amplified by her short.
Basically, we did the same thing last time in a 4-star boutique hotel instead of a converted garage with piles of stuff. We kissed standing up until I peeled off her clothes. I kissed her perfect breasts and went down on her. When the tension seemed to be diminished, I went down further on her legs but she seemed to be guiding me back to where I was. I really don't know what kind of finishing school she came from.
In my mind, I prepared different scenarios of how I would ask her to wash her feet and how to torture her. But I had no desire to check the bathroom and there would be too many obstacles to lift her out. And there were too many things to do and too little time of 30 minutes.
I flipped her over to go for her starfish. This time she knew to lie comfortably while I did my things. I sort of hinted to ask if she minded. Not only that she didn't, she was enjoying it, turning on a subtle soundtrack.
This time I came fully prepared. I enjoyed the blowjob looking at her and not looking, knowing that she wouldn't stop unless I told her to. And I didn't need to stop her because I was invincible until she slipped in her hands. For the ride, I took the effort to check her out like a piece of art or a piece of porn so I could remember her better. Since I didn't tell her to stop, she was trying to make me and herself cum. I could see on her face that it would be hard but it could be working if I let her try. Instead, I put her down squarely on the bed, went on top, put myself in her and started kissing.
I pounded her a lot harder than last time while kissing her. Practice and mental preparation works. Her "bed" was a bit bouncy so there was a lot to show for my effort. So we went up and down, up and down with her juice flowing all over. This time it was her who vacuumed me to keep our lips together while I concentrated on the pounding. It was so lovely to look at when I remembered to open my eyes.
When I was about to finish I needed so much concentration that I had to let go of her lips and held her tight. Then I collapsed on top of her and inside her. She held me like that until I got off to clean up. The cat was in the bathroom then.
Again she held my neck to kiss goodbye. I liked her just the same but the lovely feeling was distracted by overwhelming thoughts about her everything. She is more like a struggling actress in Hollywood than a struggling model. I was less sure about the tension in her body but the juice had to be real. The effort she put on her face had to be real. And fortunately, she didn't talk a lot and there was little chance acting.
She wrote about wanting to be a nurse in her profile and she did look like a nurse. Remember Rebecca? I was going to talk to Carol about what I know about nurses and she could be living near a hospital. But one glance at her nails I know that she couldn't be.
First, is she overcharging me and by how much? When she comes to our 4-star hotels she worth every bit of the money she charges. Now if she is desperate enough she can just advertise on Backpages and get more money per day than the hassle of traveling through the traffic. I can handle this by not dealing with it. It's not my business to deal with it. As long as she is giving my money's worth like the first two times, I can't fault her.
I'm honored to be invited to her home. She does like me one way or the other. Maybe she invites everybody who will come. Maybe she picks those who can blend in, like boyfriends, friends and casting agents. At least she feels safe about me but maybe she is desperate enough.
Is that really her home? She could be borrowing a girl friend's home, but who will let somebody fuck with strangers on her bed? Some desperate people? Is that really her bed? Such a seemingly classy person has to be desperate to let nasty people leaving nasty things on her bed. Unless it's nice people she likes.
Can such a young pretty girl live alone in that part of the city? She could be living with her boyfriend but she probably won't be that passionate. Maybe her boyfriend doesn't know. But the bed is too small for two. It's hard to hide things but I didn't check.
Now I doubt if she can afford such a good booker. Maybe it's those sort of mentors taking care of new girls. Maybe it's one of her friends. Maybe it's Chanel 2 whose turn of duty to do the bookings. Maybe it's herself all along! Wow, such a simple and useful revelation that never dawned on me.
Next time I know what to look for if there is next time. Certainly, I like to go to her home if she allows me. So much connection. I'm not a lot better than I had to let go of Chanel 2 last time. But I can find something to sell, or can I?
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