TL;DR: Ignored all the warning signs; thought with the wrong head; it was a car crash; lesson learnt.
I thought twice about posting this as it doesn't reflect particularly well on me, and I'm frankly a bit embarrassed by the whole episode, but decided to go ahead as the reason we're all here is to share experiences with service providers and it adds to the information available on Emma which may help other punters make their choices.
LinksExternal Link/Members Only or
External Link/Members OnlyA bit of backgroundI'm normally a GFE kind of guy, but I had a hankering to release my inner porn star, so I saw Emma's profile and read some reviews and thought "that's the kind of filth I need to try".
I was aware of her recent
outing of punters, and had seen a few other indications in her AW feedback and some discussions on here that she might not be the most level-headed individual on the planet, but pretty much all the problems seemed to relate to flakiness around booking/cancellations. I figured as long as the booking went ahead, I'd be in for a good time and if not, I could just write it off as one of those things and not make a fuss and be outed. I also stepped up my usual opsec practices just in case.
Duration/CostPSE rate of £200 / 1 hour
CommsInitially good, then had to nag a few times to confirm, but eventually managed to make a booking. I texted on the morning to confirm (as per instructions on profile), and eventually got the room number.
Location3 star hotel in Cardiff city centre which is past its prime (ie a bit scruffy). I wondered on
my review of rachel-superstar about towel provision on hotel tours. I suspect Emma's solution is to use the same one for all punters - I was pointed to the towel on the radiator (the only one in the bathroom) which did not appear to be fresh, but was at least warm.
GirlPlenty of pics on her profile to give a good idea, though I was disappointed by her facially, I think she looks better in her pics, Her lips looked particularly fake in real life. Good body, nice tits. Bit of a chat at the the start and she seemed friendly enough, though a little bit disengaged. Sounded a bit slurry but that could just have been the broad Manc accent. Whatever, I'm not there for a chat.
ServiceEmerged from the shower to find Emma on the bed with a toy in her pussy (as expected from previous reviews). Joined her and went for a bit of RO, then straight into OWO/DT. Real porn style DT - gagging, spitting, the lot. She had me move to a standing position at the end of the bed while she continued this so I could see it in the mirror. I was grinning like a loon while enjoying this. We then switched to 69 and the OWO/DT continued and I popped a finger in her ass. This is where it all started going pear shaped...
"I've got a toy for that babe" she says, handing me a butt plug with a great dollop of coconut oil (more like lard really) on it. In it goes and the coconut oil starts to melt and drip out. Now I have a scientific background, and the random thought pops into my mind that based on this empirical observation, coconut oil has a melting point somewhere between about 20°C and 37°C (just looked it up - it's 24°C).
As I realise the incongruity of my brain bothering to make this scientific deduction while my cock is deep in a wg's throat, my tongue is in her pussy and coconut oil is dripping out of her ass onto my face, I have a little chuckle.
"That laughing is really putting me off" she says. WTF? "OK, I've stopped laughing". "I can't be laughed at, it's not fair". By now she's off the bed and wandering round the room like a petulant teenager ranting about how she won't be laughed at and she's just trying to provide a service. She's also latched on to my earlier grinning and is now convinced I've been laughing at her all along. I try to explain that I'm not but she's having none of it and is already getting dressed. "I'm going to give you half your money back and you can just go. I won't be laughed at".
Fine, this has gone past the point where we can continue and I just want to get out. I jump in the shower quickly to wash all the fucking coconut oil off me, and when I come out she is on the phone to another punter. I get dressed and try to speak to her, but conversation is not happening ("you've just made it awkward") and she won't even look at me (that sulky teenager vibe still). She does at least give me £100 back with no bother and I make my escape. Past housekeeping and to the lift.
That's that then. Not quite...
In the lift, I realise I'm not wearing my watch. Fuck. Quick text to tell her I'm coming back because I've forgotten my watch. Back up to the third floor, past housekeeping again. Knock on the door, door opens, in I go. "it's not here" she says. Shit, where did I put it? "I haven't stolen your fucking watch". I didn't say you'd stolen it, I said I thought I'd forgotten it. Hand in my coat pocket, there it is. Thank fuck for that. Before I can say anything there's a knock on the door.
Housekeeping I assume, so I duck round the corner so she can answer the door and get rid of them. "What are you doing, hide in the fucking bathroom!" Eh, why? Oh I see, it's not housekeeping, it's the next punter! Into the bathroom I go. Into the bedroom and round the corner out of my sight comes the next guy. Bathroom door opens and I leg it out of the room as she's telling the next punter that her previous customer is a weird cunt who accused her of robbing his watch. Lovely.
Christ knows what the housekeeping lady is thinking as I pass her for the third time.
Bear in mind that no more than 5 minutes had elapsed between me leaving the room for the first time and the next punter knocking on the door, and she wasn't fresh from the shower when I got back. I hope for his sake she had a shower while he was there, but somehow I doubt it.
Will I return?Um, no.
So this is the first bad punt I've had, and I mostly brought it on myself by ignoring everything I've learned from here. Won't happen again.
Also discovered that I probably don't actually have an inner porn star to unleash.
Topic: Emma Stone - Cardiff (Tour) (Read 5048 times)
