Welsh Barbie Regents Park London
Review 140 - a high positive!
External Link/Members Only£200 for 30 minutes (stayed for more like 45)
OWO, CIM, DFK, penetration.
My confidence had been rocked by the dodgey Jessie in Lisle Street. I understood how Isiah Thomas the Detroit Pistons felt when they got beat by Mike and the balls - walking off the hardwood covered in sweat I refused to shake Jessie’s hand.
I never had the fineses of Isiah ”Zike" Thomas - I was more a Lambeer/Rodman lumping hulk who lacked skill but never the less punched above my weight. I liked to think of myself as popular with the blue-collar fan base, if not with the management or the opposing team. But I digress.
It was a long walk down those Lisle Street stairs and the tube ride home was a soul searching affair. I contemplated calling a press conference to announce my retirement from the game, hanging up my well creased and skuffed Nikes. Maybe I could go back to civvie life on dating apps or prowling around Tiger Tiger holding in my belly and trying to fit in. I even contemplated getting a normal bird and a mortgage, going on the straight and narrow. But I've got more CCJ's than Donald Trump has charges, my credit score looks like the surface of the moon. I decided to give it one more go round, see if I still had it, and perhaps more importantly see if the game was still out there waiting for me.
It took me more than a week of looking and preparing. It was a brave new world of Brazillian birds on the purple site, buff but unproven in most cases. I needed an easy run, a game where I could win, even dominate, to get my punting legs back under me. I couldn’t risk a surgically enhanced shystie Luna or big bummed Bruna who would fain ignorance about DFK and OWO. “no speaka la engleesh baby ” was not a phrase I could stomach, let alone an awkward cock shrinking session on google translate trying to convince her why she should let me put my musty bellend into her perfect young mouth.
It was an evening when my libido finally emerged from purgatory Welsh Barbie popped up, and as I was lacing up my kicks that I noticed it was £200 for 30 minutes. I paused mid knot. Fuck. I had seen her before during the great plague of 2020 and she delivered. If this is what it would take, then I would have to shuffle to the cash point like a paypig and swallow the pain, which I did, and it was almost a kinky feeling, thinking about what was to come.
Comms straight forward, she wanted to speak rather than text before booking which was fair. Gave me the postcode to some outrageous gaff near regents park – the kind you forget people actually live in and not just owned by some emir/duke/sultan/oligarch to hide their dirty money. Turned up, rung the bell, and I was in. Was frankly almost worth the two bills just for the experience of feeling like the man from Milk Tray on a behind enemy lines chocolate drop off.
And there she was in front of me in all her pornstar-esque glory – blonde hair, pierced tongue, tats, big fake tits and expensive undies. She reminded me of many a 90s porn slut and I loved it, just what I needed, the Welsh accent adding to her sex appeal. Fuck me she I a good looking girl. She even remembered me which was a nice touch and for a moment I felt a rung up from the pay pig cuc that I was. I counted out the crisp purple scores and she was suitably unbothered, admiring herself in the mirror and adjusting her stockings, what a sight.
Straight into DFK my hands were all over her, she felt good, my heart was racing I knew this was going to be dirty. I had to break briefly to freshen up in the well-appointed bathroom. Back to the room naked she was already talking dirty and I encouraged her, telling her I loved the thought of her fucking all day and she played along, giving me details about how naughty she had been and that she had had her ass fucked to boot. She suggested we move to the mirror so I could watch her sucking, and I noticed she liked to watch herself tonguing my bell end, she really is a naughty girl. I suggested we get on the bed, some DFK and down she went, taking instructions to go gently and tease my balls well. She deep throated and gagged and all sorts before coming back up to kiss again which I liked. She want back down kissing my nipples, stomach, thighs and balls and I was in heaven – I will never forget the bedroom light shining off of her bright blue eyes as her pierced tongue darted across my nipple. What followed was, on her suggestion 69 (where she pulled her PVC knickers to one side and told me to lick her well fucked pussy, delicious), a tit wank and penetration in missionary. I wanted CIM to finish so she kneeled beside me, my fingers groping her TIGHT pussy, wet and hot, while her ass gladly accepted my finger to her delight, and she skill fully bought me to a climax in her mouth and gulped back the lot, a nice touch.
I was in heaven, twitching, convulsing, muttering expletives in pleasure. She giggled, wiped her mouth and gave me wet wipes. I lay there, she lay next to me and we made small talk as she sipped white wine. She was the epitome of the seductive fille de joie, from the blonde hair, immaculate make up down to her £1000 red soled, shiny black Louboutin heels. She was in no rush to fuck me off, but I didn’t take the piss and started to get dressed as we chatted. On my way out the door I paused to take in the moment – the opulent surroundings, the slight weakness in my legs, the beaming smile on my face and the freshness of a blustery London night, the wind coming straight off the park.
She had restored my faith in punting and discussed a few scenarios for future meets. I was back in the game, maybe not as young and nimble as I used to be but still capable of a solid performance. I might have to re-evaluate my punting and be a bit more selective with where I pay to put my cock.
