“OK” She said, distantly, her voice penetrating the silence.
Unsure of how to respond, I said nothing. I wasn’t sure if the OK was a statement, through which she was trying to tell me that time was up (it wasn’t as we had 10 minutes left) or whether she was asking me if I had enjoyed my time (I hadn’t, as she had made it tacitly clear throughout the proceedings that she hated what she was doing and me for making her do it).
“OK” She said again, more pointedly, and I replied with a similarly ambiguous “hmmph”. I looked down at the bed I was squatting on, the final glutinous drops of spunk falling slowly onto the tissues I had hastily arranged on the bed as she had refused to come into contact with my cum.
The silence again descended and Roxy made no more attempt to initiate conversation (if indeed, that is what she was trying to do). The morning summer sunshine was now warm behind the curtains, giving me impetus to get out into the fragrant breezes of East Walworth. I hurriedly dressed, the jangle of keys and the swoosh of fabric the only sound in the bedroom as Roxy loitered in the doorway with a forced smile that could not conceal the bored expression on her face.
Our shared 30 minutes of life on this planet was drawing to a close, and, for both of us, the end couldn’t arrive sooner. She beckoned my down the stairs of her scruffy 50s council house, her shapely backside (that I don’t think I even laid a hand on in the session) swaying gently with each step. Still in silence, she opened the door then crouched behind it. “Bye” she half whispered, half-croaked, and looked up at me as I turned away and silently walked out of Roxy’s life for ever.
A few hours earlier, I had woken up with a slight hangover and the horn, and contemplated a morning punt, something I’ve never done before.
Idly flicking my flaccid member, I settled on Roxy, as she lived in Walworth, where I like to do a Saturday shop. As she was Romanian, and in the £60 per half hour mark, I set my expectations to low.
However she replied immediately, my text slightly disrupting the dust on her phone, and we arranged a session for 11am. She greeted me at the door looking gorgeous – exactly the girl in the photos. Quite short, with a lovely little figure and an impish smile, as reflected in her photos. The impish smile was in place when we started ascending the stairs, but had almost entirely disappeared by the time we got to the top of them, when, standing in the house’s working bedroom, she said “how long you want?” with all the lustful enthusiasm of a dinner lady offering bowls of slop.
“30 minutes”, I replied, actually contemplating a longer booking as I was immediately attracted to her. She then proceeded to COUNT three 20 pound notes then gave me a look to say “all men are inherently untrustworthy and I loathe your gender”. She then left the room for 5 minutes, returning with neither explanation nor apology. I then leant in for a kiss and was pushed away, with the explanation that “I don’t kiss” and, with the sudden realisation that I was about to endure a perfunctory, emotionless encounter, I tried to engender some GFE with light chit chat;
“Whereabouts are you from?” I enquired, my flirtatious expression being met with a stern glare.
“Spain” she spat back.
“Oh”, I said, mindful of the fact that she was listed as Romanian. “Whereabouts?”
“Andalusia” she replied, distantly, but with perfect Spanish pronunciation.
The thought then occurred to me that either Sergei setup a batch of profiles en masse and forgot some of the individual information or she was listed as a Romanian as that’s exactly the standard of service provision that one can expect from her.
The next 15 minutes consisted of reasonably acceptable OW (“without is extra” of course) with her perched as far away from my body as she could be to ensure no touching of any kind. I briefly performed oral on her wonderfully clean and well trimmed geintalia, for which was I was rewarded with complete and utter silence, so I quickly desisted.
There then followed a brief stint in cowgirl during which she stared into my eyes with a look that said “How can you look yourself in the mirror each morning you unconscionable bastard?” and a handjob delivered with all the erotic delicacy of a plumber going at an S bend with a plunger. Eager for this ordeal to be over with, for both our sakes, I asked if I could come on her, and, knowing that the answer would be no, I awkwardly arranged a furl of Andrex on the bed and started beating myself off as she laid beside me and we tried to avoid each other’s gaze.
After I had come, she got up off the bed and said “OK?”https://www.adultwork.com/3541242
Treat her well, guys.