Value Last time I picked out a
whore of the exact right size and went back to her cube with her for an "oil massage", but got the price wrong, hadn't brought enough, and got so flustered I forgot to ask for her name [
Icy—
Ed.], even though when we said Goodbye I told her I'd be back.
So this time I told the mama-san I wanted a small girl, and held my palm at the ideal height, Lan's: 4
'8".
And the mama-san sent me a tall girl, I sent her back, and soon a shorter girl opened the door:
"I'll take care of you."
We agree shower, sauna, [mimicking insertion] sex, massage, [mimicking insertion] sex.
I put my nose down on the table, my Adam's Apple hard against the small pillow: dank smell of cloth that hasn't been dry for an age. Donkey's Year's. It's too cold; the hot water only drives off the chill for a moment.
And after the massage, after she'd sucked me up stiff, I managed to hold myself back, gritting my teeth, tensing, clenching my entire body—
"You came, didn't you?"
But I stayed hard, and in two ticks she's slid herself down me and started thwacking away.
And in ninety minutes I'm out the door on the street.
So I came away feeling not entirely satisfied, since in my mind I paid for two full hours, and getting good value for money is part. Yet in her mind, she gave me good value: I paid for two comes, and really got three.
When whores bill by the come, not the hour, I miss the cuddling and the language lesson in French or Korean or English—the Just-In-Time intimacy. Yet kindly Oie asked me, after I'd put on my coat:
"You want a small girl?"
"Yes, a very small girl, even smaller than you. She wore orange sweat pants. It's not that you're not pretty."
O
range was hard for Oie to say.
"I think her name
Icy. She on vacation."
{280}
>> posted by John Psmyth
• 2/09/2004 09:45:00 PM
•
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