the blast
08.15.05 (10:12 pm) [edit]I stepped in a room where a 50-ish, half naked man (he had only a shirt on all unbottoned, naked his waist down) with his nosrils, mouth, all over covered by white powder: he seemed to be more than ready.
The floor of his apartment in Chelsea was buried with cut offs of stockings and female underwears. The tv had a porn movie on. Clipping offs from porn magazines were all over in his place.
Oy, what a way of welcoming me, mister, or is it the way your place is all the time? I talked to myself without voicing it.
The level of the intense vibe that I felt at the moment was 9, from 0 to 10. He was shaking from the moment he opened the door , with his seemingly (not erected) huge cock exposed nonchalantly.
The appaling thing happened. He turned out to be short of cash even for an hour session. He thought twice of using his credit card, either. Where we landed was to have a half an hour session, which we (escorts from an agency ) usually would not take.
He was a literary agent for cartoon exclusively. He offered a vintage comic book that should worth for $1000, which was neatly laminated in a clear plastic bag but I refused to take it by saying
that sort of thing should belong to someone who knows the real value of it. In this case, the book is supposed to belong to you.
OK, so we had a quick blast. He plunged himself in a pile of stockings on his bed and tried to put those torn stockings on my legs, feet and thighs. He was already wearing a loud wig before I recognized. I encouraged him to put those panty hoses and underwears (red bra and purple panty), given he seemed to be into dressing himself as well as dressing me. He pressed my high heel agaist his cock and started groaning. He bundled my shoes up with all the cut off stockings and then untied them, begging me to climb on his body with those heels on.
Please step on my cock.
So I did.
Please slap me.
And I did so, too.
So he was a conbination of
1) leg fetish
2) stocking maniac
3) coke case
4) cross dresser
5) masochist
He was a good sport after all: he never tried to drag the session than the allowed time and even wrote a check of $100 for me before letting me go. I did not even complete him, that was a shame for me: the hookerst of all hookers.