Nova Painted Floozie, Preston, Lancashire
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External Link/Members OnlyBackgroundA well-written profile, some decent looking snaps, rates that are not bat-shit crazy (indeed there are relatively attractive-looking O/N rates) and, on the whole, very good AW reviews, meant that NPF was on my HL, and, on the occasions I've been in the area, she has been amongst the uppermost half-dozen or so up for serious consideration. To my eyes, the pics in her AW galleries show a fit young woman, and there's very little not to like and hanker after there.
ArrangementsFirst hurdle. Possibly she persuades herself that it's for reasons of clarity; or possibly it's a habit designed to deter time-wasters; or possibly because she could, in fact, benefit from acquiring some soft skills in this, her by far the most lucrative, financially rewarding endeavour: but comms with Floozie are largely functional to the point of charmless and terse. They're mostly clear, and are at least mercifully free of
'yeah-babe'-speak, but still, there are yawning gaps that you, as the prospective punter, are left flailing around in and have to chase her for. Making this appointment happen was a bit of a chore for me.
LocationA smart but characterless apartment in a block in one of the seedier parts of town, frequented by drunks, but nonetheless, largely safe. You're given a number to key into the car park gate. When you call again to point out that you're in and are now standing around waiting for some direction, you'll eventually be given the door number to be buzzed indoors and walk up a few floors.
I have no doubt that she conceives of the flat as a reasonably nice, left-field respectable, young professional, slightly Boho third-sector kind of place - homely, characterful and personal, and that she has made some effort to make it agreeable and tidy for you. In reality, it was a reasonably nice new build, but which has been let-go to seed - it's decorated with dross, draped tie-dye rags, fraying carpets and features polka socks drying on radiators in the bedroom. It's not utter pig-sty baaa'aad - but it's not so very far from it either.
The FloozieShe's in her late 20's early 30's. Apparently she used to be a dancer or at least studied it.
I make a keen study of these dancer sorts. She's medium to tall-ish, slender, but no longer toned, with some newish, uneven distribution of weight around the abdomen, seat and upper thighs: so fairly typical of a youngish, formerly active, now more sedentary, night-owl type. She has pale, notably fine skin. This was all good enough, and I'd say, that whilst I'd await Sinz's expertise (if he's able & willing to post a sample of her below) those are mostly current pics in her AW profile, notwithstanding that she now sports short-ish, dark, cropped hair.
In person, I was only able to clock most of it after she undressed, sometime after we first met. When she opened the door, I was immediately struck by how little I was attracted to or by her face. Without wishing injury to her feelings, I could not describe her as pretty. Think young Liza Minnelli, without the benefit of a skilled make-up artist, and you won't be too far away. I chose to see if I could get past the lack of face-grab. Therein my mistake.
I'd estimate that despite a day's notice, she'd made approximately 30% effort to present herself well. I certainly have no recollection of what she wore, perhaps a t-shirt and some shorts, much less of being dazzled or enticed in any way. In any case, less effort than you might make if a neighbour you didn't particularly like asked if he could pop around for less than a minute to collect the post you'd been storing whilst he was on a week's geography field trip in Albania.
PersonalityShe's a nice person; clever, thoughtful, and more than capable of meaningful engagement: good. Her profile explains that her interaction with you will be characterised by
"warmth, and affection free from affectation". She is indeed blissfully free from the worst sorts of affectation (of the sort which I regrettably ran into later that day, in a misbegotten attempt to improve on this punt -
but that's another review), however, I'm afraid that Floozie is fooling herself if she thinks she is warm: she isn't.
The experienceUnfortunately (and relatively unusually), her appearance, and the lack of anything but the most cursory effort to sex-up or sensualise the occasion, rather set the tone of events for me -
I simply wasn't able to navigate a way through or around my initial disappointment, despite some effort from me to forestall disappointment. Whatever the cause, from thereon I wasn't really in the spirit that one likes to be on such occasions - joyful and thrilled at the prospect of novel scents, tastes and sensations with a new whore. But I did want to see if perhaps something interesting might develop or be unexpectedly sparked, as can often happen. And I wasn't sitting there passively awaiting nirvana either, I tried to go out and meet it halfway or beyond.
I'll skip over some of the events for reasons of discretion; but in general terms I can say the following: she kisses very pleasantly. I think she's conditioned herself to smile as draws in close, which gives the welcome and reassuring impression that she is enjoying, or at least not hating what she is doing. However, she hasn't trained herself sufficiently well to make her art invisible - which regrettably meant it looked a little rehearsed. Notwithstanding which, they're still good kisses. We chatted throughout, but although we engaged, we couldn't seem to relate somehow.
The copulation? Unmemorable to the point that I truly can't be moved to write anything about it. I think
(I think!) she went down on me; probably OW, but I genuinely can't recall. At some point she reached over me to the table, tore and unpacked the sachet, and slipped me in, but our by then clear lack of chemistry was such that I can honestly say I have more vivid, engaging and thrilling recollections of listening to 'Music For Airports' 20 years ago than I do this episode, less than 2 months ago.
I'm aware that this may sound weird to many, after all, you've laid out what is, for the vast majority of us, a sizeable amount of dosh, and so you should get your money's worth, right?
Talking of which, she charges, £120 p/h incall, £170 for 90 minutes. Anyway, I recall feeling that life's too short to waste an orgasm by desperately chasing one, and so my mind drifted off a little, the better to find some more promising erotic matter. At some point, I recall trying to remember what WH Auden's initials stood for.
This important reverie was interrupted by her looking away from me and over her shoulder. I shifted myself a little to indicate a change of position. She 'warmly' met my gaze and softly whispered "we've only got ten minutes".
Stop all the clocks....
SummarySo there we are dear reader. My juicy bone was prevented from barking, or something like that. I dearly wish I'd seen
Cueball's review before I'd booked NPF; it may have given me pause and saved me the botheration:
https://www.ukpunting.com/index.php?topic=51850.msg675920#msg675920 Having read it since,
I can heartily support many of his observations and conclusions. Indeed it sounds like we had a broadly similar experience in some ways. Instead, I read Bakerted's, and whilst I recognise his subject, we draw very different conclusions. In particular, he finds her pretty and skilled, I found her to be neither.
I had originally thought this was going to merit a poor neutral, since, as I indicated, the lion's share of my experience here seemed to spring from an unfortunate and relatively rare lack of animal attraction, which it's safe to assume was mutual. However, since Cueball identifies pretty much the same sorts of things (and recently too), I'm instead going with my instinctive supposition which is that Floozie is merely crap her job, whether through overlong experience wearing her down, or else she's acquired a conceited overestimation of her own rather average abilities, which has led to complacency.
Either way, my recommendation to you, with no malice intended towards her, is:
avoid. 