Chantelle White pornstar HoD Pimlico
External Link/Members OnlyIt had been a good few weeks. We seemed to be exiting winter, judging by the lack of condensation on my windows and the fresher feeling in my local authority hovel. I was cruising at work, and was even thinking of getting back out into the dating scene.
But punting wise I had been feeling uncharacteristically unmotivated. I had even started to look squarely at my punting career with some disdain. This is the weird schizophrenic nature of being a degenerate - it is thrilling precisely because its transgressive yet that can be a source of shame and self loathing.
But just as I thought my libido had died on the hill of self-disgust someone on this forum tempted me, like a drug dealer pushing a wrap of brown through the letter box of a smack hack trying to turn their life around by going cold turkey. They had whispered that Chantelle White, alternative punky killergram porno chic had surfaced at HoD. I had seen her at the phœnix club some years ago and even amongst the chaos of crossed swords, spit-roasting and the slap slap slap of gangbang fucking she had stood out for her service quality. Even offering me a massage between being bonked at both ends. I had made a mental note that i should see her one on one to more fully get the measure of her.
The possibility of toasting her bagel had been on my mind for a few days and sitting in the sun on Sunday morning I decided it had to be done.
Contact was made with HoD, the first time I have used a London agency. The chirpy cockney made took me by surprise with her cheery and helpful demeanour. A time was set, location given, and off I trotted to louche and disreputable Pimlico.
On arrival again I was taken aback by how “nice” the maid and Chantelle were. Something must be off, this must be a scam or some kind of set up. Any minute now some little mask wearing bastard with a zombie knife would step out of the wardrobe and relieve me of my money, my phone, my clothes and my trainers, thrusting me out onto the street in socks and Y fronts. Instead I was offered a shower and Chantelle relieved me of a paltry 80 notes for 30 minutes, which with DFK and OWO included felt like I had hit the jackpot.
Washed, dried and back into the room I could fully appreciate Chantelle’s tattooed, curvy glory. True to the HoD photos she has filled out since her vids and it suites her, a nice size 10-12 and felt nice and homely. We locked lips and she stroked me, like lovers separated by war, disapproving families or a bad marriage and reunited by the passage of time. It was beautiful.
We lay on the bed and continued stroking, kissing and chatting. Coital conversation with a brass can be a risky pursuit, one xenophobic comment, basic political remark or as has happened to me in Artemis Berlin a random comment “the last guy was fucking hung and he came buckets in my mouth it was disgusting i wanted to puke” after I had dfk’ed her can fuck the mood. None of that here, just some cheeky banter and a catch up about the Phoenix club.
She went south and took me in her mouth and vigorously noshed me off, taking instruction well tickling my balls and slowing down. This lasted for ages before she came back up for more kissing and cuddle and dry humping. More OWO and some sloppy wet wanking and it was time for fucky fucky. Dom on and her legs parted to reveal not a badly packed kebab but rather a neatly wrapped shawarma, extra garlic habibi no pickles.
She guided me into her wet and she was HOT. She stroked my back, pulled and sucked my nipples and kissed me as I heaved away in ecstasy. I knew I wouldnt last long and the good thing about an escort is you can spaff as quickly as you like, no one has anything to prove just roof it, go ham and let it fly like you are playing a video game with an unlimited ammo cheat code brpbrpbrpbrpbrp BOOM.
I staid in gently rubbing my pelvis against hers deeply kissing her until the clip was totally empty. This was passionate love making. I got off and she took of the marigold and offered me a massage. This again triggered my suspicion that this was all too good to be true and I was about to be drugged and taken hostage by a Mexican cartel. As a lay on my front with her rubbing oil into my back we chatted about all manor of profound topics until time was up, which she signalled with a playful slap of my ass. I got dressed and was let out with a smile.
I was a bit light headed and depleted and had to have a pit stop outside a chain coffee shop up the road. Sitting in the sun sipping a machiatto exuding a warm post coital glow I felt the satisfaction of a mid ranking mafia associate on a piazza in Calabria after successfully conducting a hit on an uppity, non-compliant judge, taking delight at the poetry of him being vaporised by a carefully placed car bomb on his names saint day. Bellissimo.
