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External Link/Members OnlyFirst time in Seven Sisters! Saw "Cintya" earlier. Not an easy punt - more of a mission, an adventure. The kind I used to go for when I first started out in this shit - and should do more often. Comms not great - arranged the liason via text - answers came quickly enough. But it's one of those where you just get an "OK" almost immediately, like an automated response. You know that your booking time won't necessarily be honoured. £40 for half an hour - I wasn't expecting a lot really. Another cheapo punt suited my current financial situation. Got to the area, 10 minute stomp from the station - thru a ghetto - and that's being polite. Lots of interesting shops, Caribbean eateries, which alas I wouldn't get to sample on this occasion due to lack of time - maybe on a subsequent visit.
Arrived 5 minutes early but told to wait "15 minutes". Luckily there is a bus stop across the road from the location - that's my top-tip to you - wait there if you're told to wait. Trust me - you will most likely stick out, if you're just stood about in the street, pacing up and down, in this location. It would be 25 minutes or so before I get the text - "ready baby". I was just about to leave as I normally wait up to 15 minutes over the agreed appointment time. Anyway, I'm being petty - it was a sunny afternoon - no big deal.
I'm told the location - "behind the kebab shop". And it was literally
behind the kebab shop, like it's a flat which belongs to the shop or something. I had to traipse past dumpsters, into an alleyway that would be dodgy at night - I'm met with a concrete backyard, plastic chairs and rubbish - I peek my head around the corner and wonder if it's safe to go in and up to the flat entrance - then I see the girl peek her own head out from behind the door and she calls me over.
It's the girl in the pics. Tight, short black dress, slim, made up with heavy eye makeup, naturally tanned skin and awesome legs. I was pleased. As I entered, I introduced myself in the best friendly way I can muster up, as I often do, such is the romantic gentleman that I am (or perhaps it's to establish some sort of pretend rapport - the companion side of the GFE which I would be hoping for in return
). her response - "no English". Not a perfect start to be honest. Next I'm asked to remove my shoes (so she's learnt that phrase!
). Ever been somewhere that you feel your shoes are cleaner than the carpet? I didn't exactly get the impression that the inhabitants were particularly house-proud (I'm being polite again). I half expected my shoes to be missing when I came back to collect them. Perhaps some kid from the kebab shop would pilfer them as if I'm a naive tourist visiting the Taj Mahal. At this point I don't really care about that, I'm hypnotised by the peachy and pert arse that's walking up the stairs in front of me, leading me into a bedroom.
If you meet this girl, just remember the price - I paid £40. It's £60 for an hour. So I could forgive the fact that I entered a dark room, in which there was nowhere to put my clothes besides the floor. And I'm not punther - rocking tracky bottoms and T-shirt for ease of undress / redress in this situation. I'm wearing nice clothes as I've come straight from work. Fuck it. Don't be surprised if she literally stands there holding her hands out for the money as she's not yet learnt the phrase to request payment. Equally, don't fret when she takes calls and answers texts whilst you're getting undressed, as I found. Don't expect a Vi Spring or Hypnosleep bed when the reality is one barely higher off the bare floor than a sprung mattress, that's seen more action that Ron Jeremy's fuckpad, with dents-a-plenty. Towel strewn over the bed looked like something from a Soho walkup - it would likely stand up on its own. I got rid of that shit.
OK so I'm committed now. I've handed over the cash - it's only £40 right? Even if this is a total fucking disaster - and by goodness there have been enough signs - then it's not too much wasted. Things didn't start that well in that she grabbed for my cock as soon as I got undressed and started tugging it off as if trying to start a small fire. I guide her hand away and caress her instead, asking her to take it easy. I ask if I can lick her pussy, which she agrees to. There's still a question-mark over whether kissing will be on offer though. I lick her out to try to relax her a bit and it works. I'm not claiming to be a Casanova in this area. Maybe she just relaxed as she realised that she wouldn't be the one doing all the work in this particular appointment and for no other reason, rather than me being good at it - but she definitely did relax! Mission accomplished. So here I am with this petite - size 6/8 girl - laying back on the bed with her legs spread in front of me, eyes closed, moaning as I lick her pussy. If nothing else happens on this punt - I've gotten my money's worth.
We also did 69 - which was OK. She offered OWO, by the way - as some of you may know though, I always ask 'em for covered oral. And cover it she did - with a black condom no less - one of those really thick ones - like a pond liner. A mixed blessing then - less sensation for me, but it would allow me to last much longer. So her oral technique was OK - mostly mouth action so that's good, and no rushing me to cum with her hand . She was very fresh and clean - a slight taste of sweet lube. We shagged next, in just a couple of positions. I kissed her on the lips quite a lot - no French Kissing offered. Well to be fair, I didn't ask her - her reply would likely be another rehearsed phrase, "is extra baby". Kissing her on the lips was just fine for me, on this occasion. I pounded her very hard and fast for a good 20 minutes. Mostly in mish, then at the end in doggy. She didn't complain or rush me to cum. She has an awesome arse - smooth body with tattoos on - tits not massive but matching her petite frame.
At the end I was fucking knackered. Was handed a couple of oversized tissues to cleanup my manhood and remove the condom myself, depositing it in a bulging bin of spent condoms and napkins from fuck knows how many punters that had been there before me that day. Like I say don't expect too much for the money.
As I left the place, thankful that my shoes were still where I left them, then walking over rubbish-strewn concrete and past breeze block wall and out into the ghetto again something occurred to me. And that is that
this is what punting is all about for me - this is the buzz that keeps me coming back. I've had the punts at two and a half times the price where I'm sipping wine and nibbling on fucking Ferraro Rocher in a drab, generic four-star hotel - chit-chatting to the prossie in a civilised way - keeping up some kind of bizarre pretence as if the GFE I will accept is somehow real. As an alternative I find myself well outside of my comfort zone. Here I am, in the fucking ghetto - certainly nowhere I'd like to leave my car unattended (and that's saying something as I drive a piece of shit). I've arrived nervous as fuck a and with butterflies in my stomach. I've fucked the shit out of a young stranger on some filthy mattress. I've got my money's worth and I'll have a story to tell. And that's what it's all about for me.