Thursday, August 14, 2014

Jenna in the Afternoon

While in the past I have had sex outside the marriage, it was when I was in my mid-fifties that I first contacted a call girl service. Here's an account of that day:

    I located them through Google — one of those "elite" services aimed at providing the "discriminating gentleman" with whatever he wants. $225 an hour, $400 for two. And that's just for the visit, not the goodies. The call itself went something like this:

    "Hello?" croaked the voice of a middle-aged woman on the other end.

    "I saw your ad online," I said.

    "Yes?" she asked.

    "I'd like to see about a companion," I said. I felt "companion" was the least incriminating word to use.

    "Oh, yes sir!" she chirped, swung into business-mode and asked me what kind of girl I was looking for. White? Black? Asian? Hispanic? Curvy? Tall? Short? Hair color? It was like ordering a pizza. Not fully prepared, I simply said, "Someone not overweight or underweight. Race and hair color aren't important. Someone pretty, 18- to 24-years-old."

    Are there "pretty" call girls? Well, I assume that, for a price, one can get whatever one wants. Me? I could do the $400 and hope my companion comes with reasonable rates for humping and some very heavy petting. "Jenna's available," she informed me. "She's 5' 6", 124lbs, a little lean but nice."

    "Jenna sounds wonderful," I said and made the arrangements.

    With my wife out of town, I scheduled the meet for the next day at 11am. I figured I wouldn't be able to hold out until any later, fearing I'd frantically jerk off over imaginary encounters and render my cock useless. As it turned out, Jenna was late — very late, by two hours. The service called, asking for my patience while my girl navigated her way through accidents and gridlock on the interstate. Apparently she lived fifty or sixty miles away.

    Again, not thinking clearly, I had her come to the house. Mesmerized by the prospect of young pussy, it never occurred to me that she could be a criminal (which, technically, she was) casing my humble abode. It was only until after she left that I realized she could return to my place with a couple of goons, rough me up and steal me blind. Thankfully, Jenna harbored no such agenda. But in the future, I'd instruct all poon to meet me at a nearby hotel.

    I watched from the den window as she pulled into my driveway at 1pm. I wanted to check her out before opening the front door. When she turned the corner and came up my walkway, my jaw hit the ground as I hissed "Holy shit!" Jenna may not have been Penthouse material, but she could easily do a spread in Hustler. She was, in no uncertain terms, hot. Very hot, from her clingy summer frock down to her stiletto heels.

    She was a friendly white girl with fine, shoulder-length auburn hair, a flat stomach and a pair of legs that went clear up to her smooth, perfectly rounded, dimple-free ass. She was impressed by our upper middle-class neighborhood. "I've never seen so many frikkin' mansions in my life," she gushed.

    First we got business out of the way. "I have to collect $400 for the service," she said dryly. As I was handing her the cash she asked, "do you have a badge?" I assured her I didn't, even though my face, stern, severe and lined with experience and a penetrating gaze, was indeed a cop's face. To lighten the moment and prove my innocence I asked, "would you like to smoke some weed?"

    Her face lit up; she was a stoner. But first there were more financial matters to address. "What do you want to do today?" she asked. After all, the four hundred merely covered the visit. Everything else would be a la carte.

    "I'd like to touch and fondle and caress you naked," I said quietly and directly, "and have sex." It's a rare moment when a guy nearing sixty can say such things to a girl in her early twenties and get away with it. $400 can produce miracles.

    "For that I'd need a minimum donation of $200," she said. And here I was, prepared to spend three times that amount.

    She went into the bathroom to change. "Do you want to see this awesome lingerie I just got?" she asked. After my affirmation, Jenna wanted to know if she should keep her stiletto heels on.

    Of course. Why not?

    When she returned to the living room, I was in awe. She was right about the lingerie — it was awesome, a bra and panties that heightened her sexuality. "I'm a very sexual person," she assured me as she stood, slowly turned and bent over to show me her ass. I sighed and stared. For the next two hours, I touched, pet, caressed, stroked and kissed just about every inch of her body. Her pussy and crack were beautiful and shaved, not a trace of hair anywhere.

    Oh yes, her ass. I can't even begin to describe what heaven it was to dig my face and hands into that beautiful, soft, firm round ass — if this day was worth anything, it was that. She had the ass of a teenager. And her feet — another hot spot for me — were glorious. Her legs, long, long, long and unbelievably gorgeous. All of it: bliss.

    But I couldn't get it up. Between my nerves, the situation, her hot body and my recent, chronic masturbation, I simply could not get it up.

    It was a little awkward for a moment, but our last hour was splendid. With the tension around screwing now out of the way (did this sultry little girl really want my old dick in her?), I feasted on her body, softly and gently. Jenna did not produce fake moans or sighs, she was fairly quiet. But during that last half hour, I was so turned on by her that I did everything I'd wanted to do minus penetration. She got wrapped up in it — it seemed legit because it was so understated. "I had a boyfriend for three years," she said, "and he never appreciated me like that." Just what my ego needed to hear.

    There was some idle chat; she's young with a life full of "drama." She wanted to know if I was going to ask for her again, and I said I would, but, to tell you the truth, when I do this again, I want to sample another girl. From soup to *nuts,* including gratuity, the whole thing set me back $800. I thought it would be more, so no buyer regrets. I probably wouldn't do it again for another six months or a year. I just hope I can remember all of those wonderful spots on her body that turned me on... the feet, the stomach, and that amazing, fantastic ass. God, her ass was perfect.

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