Hot_Christina Liverpool Street London
External Link/Members OnlyToday was a long day that capped off a long week. I had been on the road in far flung and uncivilised corners of our green and pleasant land, places that no London fairy has any business being. Places where the wrong football shirt could get you a kicking or worse. Places where being a vegan is still a sexual orientation and where oat milk is slang for synthetic class A drugs.
Sometimes these places throw up some intriguing punting opportunities at sometimes bum slapping ASDA price value.
This was not that week and dangle my line into the water as much as liked, there were no fish in the murky pond.
As I raced back to the big smoke with some bonus cash in the bag my balls felt fuller than Selfridges on boxing day. I could almost feel each tadpole jostling for position, the more uncouth were already scrapping over last years Dolce and Gabanna sliders. I was gagging for a brass.
I must have rang/texted a good 15 girls by 8pm. Alongside the lunch time rush, this was peak prozzie time, and my go to choices must have all been on their backs, ankles for earrings, or bent over with their heads in pillows taking a good pasting from half cut city boys. I flirted with trying to catch late night Mary at Greens Court but I couldn’t face the scrum of desperate, hungry humanity.
Surprisingly when I tried Hot_Christina was not only vertical and unpenetrated when I rang, but informed me she was primed and ready for action. I was well aware of her dubious track record but the combo of her fuck doll aesthetic and the lack of alternatives had me speeding towards the square mile.
However as I made my way to her wipe clean “serviced” apartment in Liverpool Street I started to falter. The week of nervous energy, skipped meals, too much caffeine and cheap hotel beds caught up with me and to be honest I felt the urge wane. Even looking at her photos on my phone and reading about other punters shagging her didnt really do it how they usually do.
I should have pulled the cord and called it a night but i was halfway committed, cash in pocket and I needed to find some food anyway so fuck it lets do it. Mistake on my part.
I arrived and crowds of pissed up wankers flooded past. Finding the building I rang and was buzzed up with strict instructions not to make any noise. Ironically as I passed the other flats at least one had a party in full swing, lads getting proper on it, music on giving it the large.
At her door she did the usual hide behind the door brass dance and…meh, I was initially underwhelmed. Zero make up. Every other punter commented on how well turned out she was but I drew the short straw. She apologised for this without any comment from me which softened my initial WTF. This was the second chance to abort mission I should have taken but I am a sucker for the fuck doll look and her boobs were speaking to me so I handed over the £100 for 30 minutes.
On a positive note she was actually super nice, pleasant and accommodating. Since Brexit there are less and less of this genotype of homosromanius about - plastic tits, bad narco tatoos and koi carp lips - a look and vibe that I love even if the service can be hit and miss.
I stripped down to indecency and she went in for the classic limp-dick-in-condom-oral-with trick and I stopped her and asked her to massage and stroke me a bit as I felt up her smooth slim body. Her bolt ons are top tittie (literally!) soft and not hard rocks like many are. She ran her nails over my body and balls and had me purring happily.
However, too quickly the dom was on and she was delivering actually good oral with. Again taking instruction well as to speed, technique and positioning herself to give my hands access to her tits.
She kept this up for a bit. Her pussy is shockingly tidy and neat - no dodgey badly packed Berlin donars here.
She climbed on top and slipped my stiff corpse into her warm tight lust coffin and she started to ride. I could feel this wouldnt get me over the line and I asked for missionary but I was deflating like a bouncy castle after a kids party. Fuck.
To her credit she did her best to revive Frankenstein but it wasnt happening and i wasnt going to finish in the sack. This happens to me sometimes but it always leaves me feeling a bit unsettled especially as earlier I had been rock hard, primed and ready to fuck home the victory.
She was actually very understanding and accommodating and at no point rushed me or came across remotely hostile or clock-watchy. She offered the “booby prize” - a wet and luxurious hand shandy while I lay back and allowed myself to be pleasured to a climax. She delivered this very well, some ball action, gave me free access to her boobs, licked her lips and talked dirty. I had a rare moment of inspiration and politely enquired if I could burp the worm onto to her extremely well executed chesticles. She agreed and we quickly swapped places - she was down i was up furiously tearing the Micky until the deed was done and I had assassinated her right hand JFK, splashing her left Jackie Onassis for good measure.
Again, she was nice, no rush, and in good humour. Gave me wipes while trying to keep the forensic evidence off the carpet.
I split for a quick cock wash and came back to dress - no rushing by her she told me to sit and take my time as she cleaned up the room. Apparently a busy day both on and off the pitch with a good dose of fucking complimented by daily chores and she was packing up for the night.
Afterwards I grabbed some nosh nearby in the 24 hour “Polo Bar” (FYI decent chilli cheese burger for £8.50). Amongst the loud yank tourists, miserable French bankers and pickled hipster twats I enjoyed my burger and mulled over both how to score Christina, and more profoundly the meaning of this punting game we play. For the former, minus the absent war paint, its a positive. She put in the work, treated me kindly and did all she could to get me over the line. For the latter, at 130 reviews, all I can say is to be continued!
Topic: Hot_Christina - Liverpool Street, London (Read 5542 times)