Explode in My Mouth Baby

Firing up the escort website, finding Jenny’s profile. Excitement building. Not for long however. A brief message inserted at the top, gone on holiday, see you in the new year.

A sense of deflation taking hold, lasting all day. Gradually pulling out of it, recognizing its source. Over the last week or so, first Jenny, then Jane, flooding my everyday thoughts, filling the world with a warm glow. The universe in harmony. Euphoric but unsustainable. Inevitably to be followed by a downer. Now, no email from Jane, Jenny on holiday, nothing. Downer duly arrived.

Soon however rescued by the pressure of everyday life, meetings to attend, meals to prepare, workouts to sweat through. My daughter’s Christmas play, her turn in her class to do Mary. A glass of mulled wine with her mother, still looking great, still looking at me ambivalently. A visit from overseas relatives.

Next day, still feeling out of sorts, fidgety, in need of woman’s skin. Firing up the website again. Checking the recent joiners, adding them to my hot list, weeding out the inactives. Checking the options. SweetSamantha, full-bodied, toned, blowjob specialist, cum explode in my mouth baby. Smiling out of the computer screen, nose and eyes anonymized by photoshop blur, yes that’s exactly what I need, a good blowjob, let’s telephone her.

Five rings, a foreign woman’s voice answering. Yes I’m free today. Yes, twelve o’clock is good. Half an hour is fine. I’ll text you the street and postcode, ring me again when you get here and I’ll give you the house number.

Getting ready to go, a quick shower to be ultra clean for her, checking the map, putting on winter clothes. A familiar low-key excitement building, like before an important sports match or business interview, this is what you’ve been waiting for but now it feels unremarkable, the world has slowed down and gone quieter, not even sure you want to go through with it, but carrying on anyway.

Arriving at the street, ringing again, getting final directions. That distinctive feeling, being sucked slowly into a vortex, a different reality. Pressing her number. The door buzzing open.