TLDR : 35 quid pump and dump with a tiny , gorgeous French looker
The Place
The place has been there for ages, right back when ending you name with 'A' was cool and clever. Shines gone off that one in more ways than one.
Turning in off the street that huge fucking stairway looms, like a stairway to heaven, a stairway to heaven with threadbare carpet and a steel door.
Inside it's got that dilapidated fun fair look crossed with a set from an 80's action movie, sans the Russian oligarch sniffing blow.
The receptionist sits in a booth with bars, like shes some kind of exhibit, Her disdain is palatable, the bars are perhaps for my safety. Gaudy neon sign advertise drink for a quid, another hallmark of picadilly's status.
The Girls
They slowly rise to greet me, tiny neon bikinis picked out against their coffee cream skin. I try not to look like enjoying the view, they try not to look bored as fuck. I pick Yvette ,shes perky, smooth skinned blonde haired and she shows some sign of life. In fact shes stunning, Spanish daytime soap opera pretty, in a simple grey sports bra and pants that would look shite on anyone else ,a flicker of a smile I pay 35 quid in crumpled notes and we trot upstairs, the clip clop of her stripper heels jiggling that peachy arse inches from my face.
The Room
Another shock to the system, locked behind a warren of corridors, a little wood panelled room, with a sink and a neon red /blue neon tubes, making the place look like a futuristic hovel from a William Gibson novel. The bed is a box frame topped with a hint of mattress, a mirror on the wall hammers home the rooms only function.
The Action
I strip, with all the sexiness of a prisoner of war. Yvette watches me and makes small talk, while peeling off what little she was wearing, asking about parts of my life I've got no intention of telling her. I say I'm an estate agent, believable given the combination of slightly too young haircut and slightly too expensive suit.
She hops onto the bed, starts with a massage, her hands working around my back and onto my thighs contrasting on the work in hand.
I flip over, she works on my cock with both hands, not required, but flattering and feels good. OW follows, her hunched over limiting access to her tits, good size and probably implants, but like everything else , they look good on here
Missionary next with a quick swipe of lube, hammering home the transnational nature of our tryst.
She looks good below me, and I'm building up a nice rhythm, she small so she's moving up and down the box bed. I'm getting close and other than her bored look its all good. I decide to complete now, as too much of that bored look will wilt me, physically and emotionally.
I'm done , and getting dressed proves to be the limit of our small talk. Shes asking me about housing and I'm not even trying to keep up the pretence.
All in all a pump and dump with a pretty girl that wanted to be somewhere else, but tried to hide it
