There in the flesh, CindyLove. Tall, long thin legs, high breasts, bony features. A flimsy nylon shift. Exactly as in her picture, yet somehow not as attractive. The parts not cohering harmoniously into the whole. Her face expressionless.
Leading me up the stairs into a small shabby bedroom. Taking the money. Returning. The same expressionless face, not druggy, not stupid, just the demeanor of a deeply boring person.
Her hand patting the bed as if impatient, don’t you even know you’re supposed to lie down. Taking my cock in her hand, trying to work it, failing to elicit anything but a staunch flaccidity. Looking at me questioningly, as in, oh, an erectile dysfunction problem, how am I supposed to deal with this.
Gesturing at her with an open mouth, as in, try sucking it. Shake of head from her, no, don’t do that. Well baby that’s not what your profile said. She still shaking her head, profile says discretionary. Slightly mispronouncing the words, but still slick, they’ve been much used as an automatic rejoinder.
Lying back, thinking, this ain’t good, try to think of it as masturbation with some help from a pretty woman. The attempt only partially successful, failing on the thought that actually she’s not that pretty. Stroking her thigh, my hand moving to stroke her pussy, her hand intercepting mine, no, I don’t do that. Any incipient hardness draining, thinking, don’t tell me, your profile says it’s discretionary.
Lying back, giving up, mentally excluding her. Getting up, putting on my clothes, giving her a cursory smile. She no doubt thinking, you should get some Viagra, pal. Me thinking, the sense of prohibition, that’s the absolute extinguisher of sexual fire. Also thinking, the corollary, unfettered sexual license, as with Anna for instance, or Christelle, that’s the sexual furnace.
Oh well, it had to happen, a visit to an escort that didn’t work, abject failure from beginning to end.
