The appointed hour arriving. Number 179 in a warren of town houses, metal letterbox. Knocking twice. The door opening immediately. There before me, Kylie4Sex, exactly as in her photo, angular features, spare body, floral underwear, a thin wrap.
Removing the underwear, lying on the bed. Exuding a slight nervousness. Using my hands to turn her over on to her stomach, rubbing her back, relaxing her. Massaging her thighs, kneading her feet, turning her round again, smiling at her, getting a brave smile in return. Stroking her stomach, kissing her bee-sting nipples.
Kylie stirring, taking control, lying me on my back, kissing my chest, stomach, cock. Sucking. Condom. Bestriding me, slowly taking me into her small over-tight hole. Keeping the movements small until the shapes and alignments work themselves out. Riding me, losing herself in the rhythms. At my climax, a surge of pleasure in her body, another smile.
Afterwards, dressing, chatting. This her third day. Came to London to work in hotel management, ended up waitressing, long hours, low pay, earning in a hard evening less than what she just got for our half hour together.
But not enjoying it. A couple of men, too forceful, too unpleasant, she was glad she had her flatmates nearby, also working women, one had to check in, is everything all right, should I call the police. A kiss on the cheek for me, it would be okay if they were all like you, smiled a bit more.
A final hug, then gone for ever. Little sweetheart Kylie, not cut out for this, you won’t stay at it long, meanwhile, lucky me, I found my way into that hard resistant pussy, eased it into comfort. A blissful interlude to treasure in the memory.
