I quite liked the look of this lady from her profile pic and thought she looked pretty fit considering she was claiming to be 46. I was aware it wasn't a full sex service but £60 for the hour is about right with the happy ending, however...
Comms were good enough, no real pleasantries but she didn't mess me about. Jaynee answered the door wearing a black basque and knickers. I'd say her profile pic is pretty accurate, she is a very attractive black lady with a great figure who doesn't look anything like her age. So, a good start up until she showed me into Albert Steptoe's parlour... A darkened stairwell leading up to her first floor flat briefly hid her shambled existence. No carpet on the stairs followed by an old wooden window frame at the top of the stairs and junk everywhere. She showed me into her lounge and asked me to take a seat. My eyes were desperately searching for some semblance of normality where I'd actually feel comfortable stripping off for a massage. Hopefully the massage room or bedroom is better I thought. A brief chat and she asked to sort the paperwork, that done I got up waiting to be led to the massage room... pleasant mood lighting, scented candles, warm soothing massage oil, a heated massage table and the gentle sound of whale song, all perfectly tailored to sooth away the days stresses. Errr, No! 'Where you going, aren't you gonna strip off?' I was confused, there was literally nowhere to stretch out for a massage until her cunning plan revealed itself. The chair she was sat in, which incidentally was covered in a grubby old quilt, was a recliner. Incredulously I asked, really, you do your massages from the reclining chair? Yes she said, would you let every Tom, Dick or Harry in your bedroom? No, I said, absolutely not, but in my head I'm thinking, but I don't offer body massage and hand jobs for cash.
There was an awkward moment when she asked me what I was expecting and that a lot of guys got the wrong idea. So I told her bluntly that I was aware it wasn't a full sex service and that I was expecting a massage and a handjob. I really should have walked purely based on the state of the place but she was what I was expecting and the mistake I made was in hoping that she had a clean and pleasant room for punters. Too late, I found myself laid out on a reclining office type chair on a quilt that at some distant point in the past used to be white.
It was the most stressful massage I've ever experienced, and yet I felt like I'd discovered some new type of headfuck service... the ironic massage... A stress reducing massage delivered in the most stressful of surroundings; on leaving I considered the merits of booking another massage with some local Thai lovely to counteract what I'd just been through.
The thing is, Jaynee obviously thinks she offers an amazing service and don't get me wrong, she's got great hands and she does give a great massage but the whole experience is fucking bizarre. She talks incessantly throughout, she name checked a number of celebs who were all following her on Instagram, she played me a few of her favourite tunes and constantly stopped massaging me as she was distracted by various things on her mobile phone that she felt the need to share with me. At one point she said she had added on another 10 minutes to make up for the time she'd stopped and was talking. She is completely oblivious to the fact that this is not an environment that any self respecting punter would welcome visiting, whether it be for a full sex service or a massage. The fact that it was just a 'relaxing massage' almost made it worse. If I'd gone along for a chat then I'd have enjoyed Jaynee's company, she is fairly upbeat, chatty and engaging but she needs to fucking wake up to the reality of what she is offering. She talked about how she likes to provide a good service so that clients return but she lacks any shred of self awareness. The service was 45 minutes of very good massage with nothing on show to heighten the experience. Everything is on the clock so with 15 minutes to go, the handjob starts. This is immediate, there was no gentle lead in or teasing, it was like flicking the switch from massage to handjob. I was completely devoid of any sexual thoughts and struggling to get hard, I eventually managed a three quarter... (A bit more than a semi) but only after asking if she would mind getting her tits out (as I desperately needed some sort of visual stimulation but even these turned out to be fake), before dumping my load and quickly getting dressed. Fuck me, even the oils she used left me feeling like I'd just been coated in goose fat ready for a cross channel swim. I felt fucking rancid when I left.