6820 C
Called and made an appointment with Kairi. Cindy opened the door and -- sweet geezus the smell of weed almost knocked me on my ass! Talk about purple haze. Anyway, who am I to knock another person's vice? In I trudge, through the smoke, intrepid skin pig that I am.
I take 30 minutes for $35 and Cindy immediately tries to pawn another girl off on me. The girl, whose name I can't remember was sitting in the little room up front. Cute asian girl who Cindy claims had only been there for a few days. Right.
Nope, I sez, gimme Kairi.
Hop in the shower and soap up the kibble and bits and all the other important parts. In comes Kairi who dims the lights and starts a pretty decent rubdown. As otrher posts here have said, she's pretty athletic--high, hard ass, flat stomach, etc. She's got strong hands and gives a good massage.
She stands at the front of the table and I immediately start groping those cheeks through her tights. Damn, the girl is a hard body.
Some good ass teasing (including tickling my Grand Canyon with her hair) and then, before the flip, she gets the old bald headed champ in a headlock from below. I arch up and she starts a-pumping, like she was an exotic farmhand milking the world's ugliest one-teated cream-producing cow.
Flip and bingo, Kairi goes to work. I had only been with her once before and it was a good massage followed by a nice HJ, but this time my millage increased significantly. A few strokes and suddenly she was nuzzling the the ol' skin purse with her tongue, rooting around like a happy little piggy looking for truffles. No truffles in that dark place, but a couple of the happiest walnuts the world has ever known.
Working upward, she traced a saliva trail to the very pinacle of the McVie Monolith before I halted the proceedings in order to preserve the crime scene's integrity by encasing it in protective plastic--or latex, in this case.
Ah, is there a greater marvel than the ol' Disappearing Dong trick? Not that it takes a sword-swallower to completely sheathe my modest member, but still, it's always good to be gobbled, no?
I yanked down her tights and tiny thong and let my fingers do the walking, lots of access to moist secret places.
I can sometimes take a bit of time and she never missed a beat, or stroke, as the case may be--alternating seemlessly between hand and mouth, sometimes using both at the same time. As the impending countdown began, we shared a chuckle about my ability to hold the rising tides at bay. Not as miraculous as Moses, to be sure, but for a little man like myself rotten with weakness, it was a veritable feat of fortitude worthy of Hercules.
Finally, the combination of my weakness and her technique proved too much for my woefully mortal coil. A million or so of my hearty little swimmers came to an untimely end slamming into an impenetrable wall of rubber as my toes did the orgasmic curl a la Wicked Witch of the East after she gets waylaid by the flying house.
Even though I had already gone past my alloted time by a few minutes, the lovely Kairi gave me five more minutes of bliss, rubbing my feet and toes as I teetered on the verge of dozing off.
All this with nary a mention of a price list. How sweet is that?
I remembered reading that some guys had gotten a similar service for $40 and I considered it for a second. But it seemed to cheap and mean-spirited at the time, especially considering how good I felt at that exact moment, so I gave her $60 for which she seemed very, very happy.
McVie
P.S. Treat her nice you animals.