I was expecting Chanel II to quit but in fact, she was just skipping the Valentine week. When she turned up, I got an instant notification too because I left a PM complaining that she was elusive. I booked her as soon as I could find a place to park. I had to wait for her to check-in though. That's when I thought of eating an apple to stop my hunger while not having to clean up all over again.
I was so disappointed she didn't recognize me at all when some of the bookers do. She even asked me why I was so happy as if I found her looks funny or I had an agenda to humiliate her.
I told her when and where we met. It was a long time ago she said. She acted as if she remembered something but I bet she didn't. Rarely anyone will forget my handsome face. I was so disappointed when we had sex and got along so well.
I was really the check-in guy; the bathroom floor towel was dry and hanging. There's no reason to fool me. I wasn't so sure about Margarette. Once I caught her up before noon. And since I was her fan, she might pretend that I was the check-in guy while seeing somebody first who got advance warning of her arrival.
I was testing her DFK repeatedly to see if she changed like Margarette. I gave her chances to duck always but I overdid it. "Fortunately, you don't smoke.", she said with a plain face. Yes, she changed a bit, doing more but less enthusiastic.
Otherwise, she changed! She might be even skinnier. She was wearing her schoolgirl outfit with a little vest showing off her flat chest, the flattest of them all. But she was a bit taller like a model if she stands up straight. She now has wavy long hair instead of the short schoolgirl hair that I remember, correctly or otherwise.
She did have some makeup on, darker in the eyes, unlike the model who pretends to be the girl next door. She isn't as cute as before but pretty enough; nobody wants to be head to head with Chanel. The same with Mrs Player when she was younger, unless you are much taller like a model.
When I went over to the meat in her small tits, the strange thing happened. She started asking me if I have a wife! What? I did mention Margarette; that's how I came to book her. And nothing else. What was she thinking? No idea.
Maybe the only conclusion that a perfect man like me had to patron pretty escorts is that I had a wife with an unhappy relationship, or just having a wife.
I told her she looks a bit different when she asked if I liked it. I went over to check her feet and toes. They were well pedicured and pale over and under. She asked if I liked it. It was such a good start.
When I flipped her over, she told me I am very kinky. She had no problem when I admired her pale ass. But she told me I shouldn't be tickling her. So I had to lick her harder.
When it was her turn, she got in position to blow me but was collecting her hair strand by strand into her hands. Instinctively, I held all her hair for her when she began to blow. I don't know if she was trying to keep her beautiful hair from getting in the way or was showing off for me to watch. Chanel didn't even like me to watch her blowing - the beauty and the beast.
Again she was very enthusiastic to give me a good time but soon found out it was trouble. It became thick rebar and had no signs of weakening. Soon she used her hand to get me more excited but it was too late. I became invincible. I just let her because whatever she did with her mouth and hands, she just couldn't do anything other than making me harder. When she knew I wasn't anywhere near climax, she sucked very hard to bring me closer but in vain.
Since she failed to soften the blow, I told her to move on. I picked up my non-latex condom on the nightstand trying to put it on. But she grabbed it and did it for me. Even though both had long nails, Margarette did the opposite; she would open the condom and pass it to me for DIY.
If she wasn't afraid of my cock, she is a very good actress. She tried to mount carefully and slowly at an odd angle with her right hand totally attached to the side of her body. She pulled out when her pussy barely touched my cock. Very elegantly, she brought out natural lube from her mouth into her curved palm. When she spread it on my cock, I could see that it was a handful, like pouring a small cup of water on me.
It wasn't the end of her predicament once she got me inside. She kept talking to herself how big my brother was. She kept the odd angle while going up and down carefully. And her right hand was like glued to her side of her body. Yes, I was her check-in guy but I wasn't too big. How can she deal with the rest? I wonder. She wanted to go fast but she seemed to hit the speed limit due to my thickness.
I put one hand round her back and squeezed her small tits with the other. I was forceful but she probably didn't feel anything; her mind was on my cock. Her awkward body angle prevented me from using full force. I could let her ride all night, enjoying every second of it.
At last, she decided there was no other way. She was like a kid holding up her sleeve while braving for the flu shot. Or the defeated princess walking bravely to the guillotine by herself. She got off me slowly, almost sad, and ceremonially spread herself flat on the bed, arm and legs open, head almost falling off the side. I had many plans and positions, but I couldn't resist her inviting body posture. I got between her legs and into her sore pussy.
I looked at her closed eyes while giving her a few warm-up strokes. I held her head with both of my hands so I could watch her beautiful face while I pounded harder and harder.
She offered no resistance and she knew it would be futile. Then I kissed her deeply and squarely on her mouth. I was holding her head so our teeth wouldn't be knocking against each other while I was pounding hard on her. There was no tongue but it would have been getting in the way. I bet she wasn't thinking about anything, trying to do anything, anything but going into a deep trance. That was her only way to enjoy every bit of my actions or to tolerate her punishment.
I could fall in love that way, not caring about how many men she had sex with in the past and future. It was only me in the present time, in her whole world. [note to self: perhaps I really should write a book.]
It was the perfect way to end a lingering kiss, a kiss she couldn't have escaped. I let off her mouth and put my face against hers. I held her tight and started fucking her as if tomorrow will never come. Anyway, I couldn't climax in any other way at that stage. It was beautiful when I was finally done. A few times when I thought I was done, I gave her a gentle stroke before pulling out, only to find myself shivering and shot some more.
When I was finally done, she was like a kid who just lost a game and threw a tantrum, with her back on the floor while waving her arms and legs fiercely in the air to protest. She fucked me while I was still on top, totally useless by then.
I rolled over with a very sweet smile on my face. I knew she was staying an arm's length from me because my arms were spread, inviting her to come close. I think she was afraid that I would have another go; it would be traumatic.
The strange thing was that she kept asking about Mrs Player. Why she didn't do it anymore? What did I do to help her? Why she would let me lose going home late at night? She threw off my plans; I forgot what I had to say.
This time I remembered my watch to watch the clock. After her interrogation, I realized that I was a little over time. So I jumped up to the bathroom. Maybe I wasn't polite. On my way she was like happy that I was leaving and she asked me to flush [the comdom]. What? Never had a girl do that to me. Maybe she was saving face.
When I put my clothes on getting out of the bathroom to say goodbye, she could have texted Margarette again like the first time we met. She asked me when I last saw Margarette. "Last month", I pretended to think a little and say so unwillingly because of privacy issues. "Where did you see her?", she asked. Again I answered as if I didn't want to rat somebody, "her home". Again she told me her mom wouldn't let her dad lose like that, going downtown at night. I didn't remember telling her I hang out there at night.
If I had any plans, she worked it all out for me, in less than 3 minutes. She told me to see her in her home when I am there. She kept telling me about her neighborhood by names that I had no idea. It dawned on me that she lived probably within walking distance to Margarette. She said Margarette's apartment was a bit ghetto. She was trying to say that her apartment was in a better neighborhood. I didn't understand first because I didn't even know she lived downtown.
Then she wanted to give me her number so I would have advance warning if she comes to town, or I can visit her. And she made sure of it. I showed her my phone number on my phone and she texted me immediately. Wow, that was easy. Mission accomplished.
Now I hoped that Margarette responded. Actually, Chanel kept calling her Julie. That's the problem if your buddy hooks up with your ex. If Julie replied, she approves of us, and didn't mind what I said to her when we broke up. I also hoped that she will be jealous if only a little like last time when I was in bed with Chanel. She may be glad or upset or both when I can forget about her just like that.
Now it would be interesting if Julie didn't reply. I wonder what she will say to Chanel. She had to keep something from Chanel as I did. Those are only between us and we wouldn't want others to know. I wonder if Chanel will change her mind about everything. I probably like her more but I won't get hurt since it is only the 2nd time we met. First, she isn't quitting yet so I can see her when I want to. There are plenty of opportunities for us to like or dislike each other. Second, I had her real number, got that right in front of my eyes. She would have no excuses.
I was so disappointed she didn't recognize me at all when some of the bookers do. She even asked me why I was so happy as if I found her looks funny or I had an agenda to humiliate her.
I told her when and where we met. It was a long time ago she said. She acted as if she remembered something but I bet she didn't. Rarely anyone will forget my handsome face. I was so disappointed when we had sex and got along so well.
I was really the check-in guy; the bathroom floor towel was dry and hanging. There's no reason to fool me. I wasn't so sure about Margarette. Once I caught her up before noon. And since I was her fan, she might pretend that I was the check-in guy while seeing somebody first who got advance warning of her arrival.
I was testing her DFK repeatedly to see if she changed like Margarette. I gave her chances to duck always but I overdid it. "Fortunately, you don't smoke.", she said with a plain face. Yes, she changed a bit, doing more but less enthusiastic.
Otherwise, she changed! She might be even skinnier. She was wearing her schoolgirl outfit with a little vest showing off her flat chest, the flattest of them all. But she was a bit taller like a model if she stands up straight. She now has wavy long hair instead of the short schoolgirl hair that I remember, correctly or otherwise.
She did have some makeup on, darker in the eyes, unlike the model who pretends to be the girl next door. She isn't as cute as before but pretty enough; nobody wants to be head to head with Chanel. The same with Mrs Player when she was younger, unless you are much taller like a model.
When I went over to the meat in her small tits, the strange thing happened. She started asking me if I have a wife! What? I did mention Margarette; that's how I came to book her. And nothing else. What was she thinking? No idea.
Maybe the only conclusion that a perfect man like me had to patron pretty escorts is that I had a wife with an unhappy relationship, or just having a wife.
I told her she looks a bit different when she asked if I liked it. I went over to check her feet and toes. They were well pedicured and pale over and under. She asked if I liked it. It was such a good start.
When I flipped her over, she told me I am very kinky. She had no problem when I admired her pale ass. But she told me I shouldn't be tickling her. So I had to lick her harder.
When it was her turn, she got in position to blow me but was collecting her hair strand by strand into her hands. Instinctively, I held all her hair for her when she began to blow. I don't know if she was trying to keep her beautiful hair from getting in the way or was showing off for me to watch. Chanel didn't even like me to watch her blowing - the beauty and the beast.
Again she was very enthusiastic to give me a good time but soon found out it was trouble. It became thick rebar and had no signs of weakening. Soon she used her hand to get me more excited but it was too late. I became invincible. I just let her because whatever she did with her mouth and hands, she just couldn't do anything other than making me harder. When she knew I wasn't anywhere near climax, she sucked very hard to bring me closer but in vain.
Since she failed to soften the blow, I told her to move on. I picked up my non-latex condom on the nightstand trying to put it on. But she grabbed it and did it for me. Even though both had long nails, Margarette did the opposite; she would open the condom and pass it to me for DIY.
If she wasn't afraid of my cock, she is a very good actress. She tried to mount carefully and slowly at an odd angle with her right hand totally attached to the side of her body. She pulled out when her pussy barely touched my cock. Very elegantly, she brought out natural lube from her mouth into her curved palm. When she spread it on my cock, I could see that it was a handful, like pouring a small cup of water on me.
It wasn't the end of her predicament once she got me inside. She kept talking to herself how big my brother was. She kept the odd angle while going up and down carefully. And her right hand was like glued to her side of her body. Yes, I was her check-in guy but I wasn't too big. How can she deal with the rest? I wonder. She wanted to go fast but she seemed to hit the speed limit due to my thickness.
I put one hand round her back and squeezed her small tits with the other. I was forceful but she probably didn't feel anything; her mind was on my cock. Her awkward body angle prevented me from using full force. I could let her ride all night, enjoying every second of it.
At last, she decided there was no other way. She was like a kid holding up her sleeve while braving for the flu shot. Or the defeated princess walking bravely to the guillotine by herself. She got off me slowly, almost sad, and ceremonially spread herself flat on the bed, arm and legs open, head almost falling off the side. I had many plans and positions, but I couldn't resist her inviting body posture. I got between her legs and into her sore pussy.
I looked at her closed eyes while giving her a few warm-up strokes. I held her head with both of my hands so I could watch her beautiful face while I pounded harder and harder.
She offered no resistance and she knew it would be futile. Then I kissed her deeply and squarely on her mouth. I was holding her head so our teeth wouldn't be knocking against each other while I was pounding hard on her. There was no tongue but it would have been getting in the way. I bet she wasn't thinking about anything, trying to do anything, anything but going into a deep trance. That was her only way to enjoy every bit of my actions or to tolerate her punishment.
I could fall in love that way, not caring about how many men she had sex with in the past and future. It was only me in the present time, in her whole world. [note to self: perhaps I really should write a book.]
It was the perfect way to end a lingering kiss, a kiss she couldn't have escaped. I let off her mouth and put my face against hers. I held her tight and started fucking her as if tomorrow will never come. Anyway, I couldn't climax in any other way at that stage. It was beautiful when I was finally done. A few times when I thought I was done, I gave her a gentle stroke before pulling out, only to find myself shivering and shot some more.
When I was finally done, she was like a kid who just lost a game and threw a tantrum, with her back on the floor while waving her arms and legs fiercely in the air to protest. She fucked me while I was still on top, totally useless by then.
I rolled over with a very sweet smile on my face. I knew she was staying an arm's length from me because my arms were spread, inviting her to come close. I think she was afraid that I would have another go; it would be traumatic.
The strange thing was that she kept asking about Mrs Player. Why she didn't do it anymore? What did I do to help her? Why she would let me lose going home late at night? She threw off my plans; I forgot what I had to say.
This time I remembered my watch to watch the clock. After her interrogation, I realized that I was a little over time. So I jumped up to the bathroom. Maybe I wasn't polite. On my way she was like happy that I was leaving and she asked me to flush [the comdom]. What? Never had a girl do that to me. Maybe she was saving face.
When I put my clothes on getting out of the bathroom to say goodbye, she could have texted Margarette again like the first time we met. She asked me when I last saw Margarette. "Last month", I pretended to think a little and say so unwillingly because of privacy issues. "Where did you see her?", she asked. Again I answered as if I didn't want to rat somebody, "her home". Again she told me her mom wouldn't let her dad lose like that, going downtown at night. I didn't remember telling her I hang out there at night.
If I had any plans, she worked it all out for me, in less than 3 minutes. She told me to see her in her home when I am there. She kept telling me about her neighborhood by names that I had no idea. It dawned on me that she lived probably within walking distance to Margarette. She said Margarette's apartment was a bit ghetto. She was trying to say that her apartment was in a better neighborhood. I didn't understand first because I didn't even know she lived downtown.
Then she wanted to give me her number so I would have advance warning if she comes to town, or I can visit her. And she made sure of it. I showed her my phone number on my phone and she texted me immediately. Wow, that was easy. Mission accomplished.
Now I hoped that Margarette responded. Actually, Chanel kept calling her Julie. That's the problem if your buddy hooks up with your ex. If Julie replied, she approves of us, and didn't mind what I said to her when we broke up. I also hoped that she will be jealous if only a little like last time when I was in bed with Chanel. She may be glad or upset or both when I can forget about her just like that.
Now it would be interesting if Julie didn't reply. I wonder what she will say to Chanel. She had to keep something from Chanel as I did. Those are only between us and we wouldn't want others to know. I wonder if Chanel will change her mind about everything. I probably like her more but I won't get hurt since it is only the 2nd time we met. First, she isn't quitting yet so I can see her when I want to. There are plenty of opportunities for us to like or dislike each other. Second, I had her real number, got that right in front of my eyes. She would have no excuses.
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