External Link/Members OnlySearching for the phone number on Google reveals this girl has formerly called herself Alessia (in Stratford) and Sara (King's Cross) -- or at least the same phone number was used.
I said to bananapants earlier that Gumtree etc can be hit and miss - usually I have a 1 in 5 success rate - and often bloody cheap. This was that in a nutshell - but a definite miss.
Booking & Comms Mostly good - the usual Gumtree / Vivastreet scenario of rapid-fire, terse replies, received before you've put the phone down. But when I arrived at the appointed hour, it was radio silence. I went to a nearby coffee shop, and she eventually texted 15 mins later, with no hint of an apology.
Location: A newish-build enclave just off Sydenham's high street, and a minute from the station. Discreet, and there's parking. Her flat's up the back. The flat itself is basically a bedsit. When I arrived, she was smoking - no windows open - but the place was clean enough, if a bit depressing. Used the toilet later, and the bathroom was spotless.
Price: £70 for an hour's B2B, with HR at end.
Girl: Said via text she was 25, size 8 and 32B, all of which checked out. Dark hair, about 5'3" at a guess, and very pretty, albeit with a bit of a button nose. Tits are lovely and pert, with medium-size nipples. Few tattoos, nice skin. Hair was in a pigtail, which I liked. I didn't see the pussy so can't comment on that.
Details: After passing the paperwork, I was instructed to undress while 'Denisa' sat smoking and texting. No hint of warmth at any point. Uh-oh, I thought. But she's hot, my dick replied. You can guess who won that argument. I then lay on a bed whose mattress last had a working spring in 1987, and a starchy wisp of a towel. She set her phone to play some banging Europop dance tunes - the obvious massage accompaniment - at a deafening, neighbour-annoying volume, stripped to her thong, squatted on my back and started slathering the Johnson's baby oil. The massage was, in a word, shit; I could do better myself, and that's really not a compliment.
She moves to my legs, running her hand over my ass with increasing regularity, and I'm thinking "okay, I like where this is heading." I feel good. Then there's a knock at the door. Denisa, not seeming particularly perturbed by this development, mutters a "Sorry", grabs a towel and disappears for a few secs. I wondered if it was an enraged neighbour, but the music doesn't change so maybe it's a pimp or fellow girl. Anyway, Denisa returns, but the massage now consists of her sitting by my side and absent-mindedly touching my thigh. I touch her tits and am allowed to rub her pussy through her thong; when I try and move a finger under, I get a fierce "No!".
There are condoms on the table, and at this point D tells me I can have a covered blow-job for £70 (but only stay half an hour). I think she offers sex too, but I couldn't swear to it. I don't have the money anyway.
Denisa then abruptly says that the massage must now be only half an hour, and I can have £20 back (she charges £50 for 30 mins). As it's now so shit, I don't argue. I ask if the promised B2B might, you know, start anytime soon? Now very grumpy, she grinds over me briefly - I'm not allowed to nibble nipple - and then starts jerking me off, resuming her sitting position, with a bit of ball knotting. But I'm about as erect as a bowl of soup, so this is a bit of a fail. Eventually I stop her, and we call it a day. We both get dressed. I leave and she says nothing. The ice age beginneth.
Would I go back? Nah. She's hot, but waaay too sulky and surly, and so disinterested. For me, the difference-maker is always the warmth: the sense that a girl likes you, wants you there. Failing that, a little professionalism or courtesy.
