External Link/Members OnlyLured by a string of solid reviews lauding her abilities and attractiveness, I booked Polish Kate for half-an-hour, subsequent to a previous girl letting me the down at short-notice. I had my misgivings about her prior to the booking, given that this well-known lot of girls operating from this flat work under the auspices of a maid or Sergei, not the type of WGs I usually frequent. However, my arousal took the better of my more rational brain, so I took the plunge.
Communication by text message was very straightforward. Some previous reviewers have suggested that Polish Kate takes the bookings herself, but certainly this is not the case and I cannot see her being capable of doing, as the messages were written in half-decent English, whereas Polish Kate's English was nowhere near a match (this was a fundamental issue as I shall explain). The maid replied in real time, and set me up for half an hour later in the day. Again, I did not want to risk any longer given the impressions I had already built up, however, the photos on her AW looked quite appealing so I thought I would go for it nonetheless.
The location is in Hatfield, a ten-minute walk from Galleria shopping centre, and even closer to Aldi, so parking is not an issue. (My advice is not to park on the road behind the building, so follow the Galleria postcode to get there). I was given the postcode of the location, situated in a relatively new build, but not the actual flat number as expected. However, this is where the problems start. About fifteen minutes prior to the start, I send a text to the maid, asking for the flat number - silence for quite some time, only to receive a reply with the flat number two minutes prior to the planned starting time. Now as those familiar with the setting, will realise that finding the flat number is no easy endeavour for the uninitiated. As I buzz on the intercom outside the gate slightly past the scheduled time asking to be let in, I receive a brash text from the maid, telling me to hurry up as Polish Kate had been waiting for me, as though this is had all been some fault of my own. Now, vexations do not stop there, as this was merely the beginning.
Walking up the stairs, I meet a punter, very shabby-looking who I presume had just finished his deed with one of the girls. He gives me a nervous look and walks away. As I knock on the door, I am greeted by a stark naked short and chubby Latino girl, who I can only presume to have been Mia Mia Loca. She tells me that Polish Kate was not available as she was engaged with another punter. Now the pressure was building up, and heading back down I meet yet another punter, who smiled at me, this time more forthcomingly, as though to highlight our common quest. At this point I text the maid, highlighting the situation, which she negates, so I head back to the flat. This leads me to believe that the maid must be quite disorganised and that bookings are made back-to-back with hardly any gap in between meetings for the girls to freshen up and take a shower. The thought of touching her, after having seen that punter in the event that she had not taken a shower, was quite nerve wrecking to say the least.
Finally, Polish Kate opens the door, but at this point, too much psychological harm had been inflicted on me. Now, Polish Kate appears quite slim and tall in the AW pictures, but obviously these had been heavily touched as in reality she is nowhere near as attractive. I certainly would not have given her a second glance in the street, if anything even most likely avoided the gaze. She presents in a short body-hugging glittery dress, reminiscent of street working girls propped up by 6-inch high stilettos. Even with the latter, she is on the shorter side, no more than five feet two. Now one wonders where she finds to buy these dresses these days. I try to greet her and hand the cash, but she points with her fingers indicating me to head to the room, but she hurriedly walks away elsewhere. More awkwardness thus ensues.
By this point, she still had not uttered a single word, but this will transpire to be hardly surprising given her language skills. She asks me "how long a time? (sic)", to which I reply "half-an-hour", and finally I hand the cash. She counts the money, and tells me "you need more". There were £90 pounds in the envelope as stated in the AW price list, so I could only be right. I say again it's half-an-hour, but she seems lost, and realise that she probably did not understand, so I rephrase to say it was "thirty minutes". This was all too revealing. As I approach her, she asks me "what you like? (sic)", to which again I suggest we go with the flow, but she struggled with that and gave me a bucket list of what was on offer. Amidst this carry on, I was quickly losing more and more interest, and growing ever so nervous. She takes off her clothes, to reveal a nice set of lingerie - a positive at last. However, her body was a far cry from the pictures on AW. She had a puffy face covered with a heavy layer of foundation. She has an hour glass figure, but with a marked mismatch between her torso, possibly a size 8, compared with very chunky pair of hips and legs heading into size 12. Not BBW territory by any means, but the mismatch was quite striking, and her chunky lower half was sexually unappealing to me. Her skin was however very smooth and silky , and she does appear to be in keeping with the stated age of 22.
Despite her physical flaws, in her defence, she came across as a sweet young lady, who was eager to try to please - very soft spoken, albeit her English was broken and impossible to hold a conversation with. As I undress, she tells me that she wants to please, probably having seen me quite flustered by now, and goes on to perform a handjob. Nothing was happening for me, at which point I do it myself and quickly unload on her thighs, in my attempt to cut the misery short. She hands me the wipes and suggests that I clean her up myself. I try to build conversation, but we could not get anywhere. At which point I think to myself, this is getting far too much, so I courteously leave ten minutes before time was up. She looked somewhat upset, giving me an angelic and an almost apologetic face, having perhaps felt that she had not been up to the job, making me likewise feel too bad for her. So we parted with an amicable hug.
I was in between two minds whether to give her a neutral or a negative. On the one hand, it was partly my fault, as at this price range, I could hardly expect any finesse and sophistication. However, at least a degree of communicative skills is to be expected, as universal signs do not always lend themselves well to these situations. So all in all, a negative for me. Take no heed of the hype.