A little over 6 Ft. tall, long stunning legs, a beautiful face, and just sexy as hell.  Nothing in life is easy, however, and this decision is no exception.  I’m in a quandary with which I need some advice, but I am really only looking for input from tall blonde Providers with mixed Aboriginal heritage who were raised by nuns in the Montana wilderness, so please don’t respond is you aren’t qualified. You see, she was born with a conjugal birth defect that’s giving me fits (and no, Conan, I don’t mean congenital – I’ll explain below).  

I happened to be in Vegas and found her on TER while doing a global search for performance scores of 3 or lower (I was starting a Provider Reformation project (story for another day)).  She really fit the mold as she had a great mixture of 3’s and 4’s, so I contacted her through the 7 Eleven payphone number she had on her BP ad.  I initially kept getting guys who didn’t speak English and almost gave up as the night was becoming a true bummer, but was ultimately able to get through to her around 2:00 AM on the 20th try at which time we agreed to meet at an all-night buffet she suggested.

I got there and she was beautiful.  She was wearing a simple white cotton sundress, but she was obviously making a unique fashion statement because it was inside out, with all of the seams showing.  I found out later just why that was.

She started with an unusual, in person, screening method of asking me to do a cycle of calisthenics that I was initially so uncomfortable with that I almost just turned around and left.  I mean, who wants to do squat thrusts in the middle of a restaurant?  But the food at the buffet looked good, and she deemed me athletic enough to see her, so I stuck around.  I’m glad that I did because as soon as I saw her eat an ear of corn from the top down, I knew that I had found a true slut.  Oh brother, what little did I know then.

Well the initial meet ended up going fine despite a minor argument (she complimented the spaghetti sauce, and I made an offhand comment that my grandmother used to call it gravy – she got a little flushed and said that grandmothers shouldn’t talk to their grandsons about sexual stuff like that, which I didn’t really understand) so we decided to carry on to my suite (I always prefer my room to her incall).  It’s a great suite with all of the amenities, including a media room with massaging recliners.

I was eagerly anticipating trying to help her performance scores, so as soon as we stepped through the door, I gently took her into my arms, gave her a brief LFK and a light slap on her butt.  Well, as soon as I touched her, she did a funny little jump-quiver and then spun around and slapped me in the face.  When she did it though, she had this sexually charged look on her face and was panting a little, so I took it as sex play rather than an assault (she should have asked my permission to slap me though).  Then she said: “I may very well be a sex worker, but I won’t be anyone’s prostituted woman.”  OK, I thought, maybe a little BSC, but I can work with that.

She seemed to be getting a little tense, so I suggested that she have a seat in one of the recliners while I took a shower.  She smiled, pulled her dress off over her head, and said: “here’s some motivation to make it a quick one.”  Wow, she looked damned good, so I basically ran to the bathroom to get ready.

I came out dripping wet and sauntered on into the media room, hoping she was wearing some sexy lingerie, only to find her gently snoring in a recliner and naked as a jaybird.  I took a moment to admire her as she slept.  She has this silky smooth, alabaster white skin without a mar on it, and her breasts were enticingly rising with every snore.   I decided that it would be a nice gesture to wake her up by starting the chair massage and slowly increasing the intensity until she woke up.  I was totally NOT mentally or psychologically prepared for what happened next.

As soon as the chair started vibrating, she began to writhe and moan.  I thought this was great, so I cranked it up a notch or two and she started going absolutely nuts.  She was rolling back and forth, pressing herself deeper into the chair, and pounding on the sides of it.  Her face got all scrunched up, she was panting like a dog in the desert, and she broke out in a sweat all over her body.  Her eyes popped open like Linda Blair in the Exorcist, and she screamed the following at me:  “Make it stop!!!…. NO, don’t stop it!!!…OH MY FUCKING GOD Do Something to STOP IT!!!... If you stop it, I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!!!”   Then: “YES, YES, YES, OH GOD, NO, NO, NO, ….YEEESSSS.”    

That’s when I found out that she’s a squirter because a steady stream shot up from her now wide spread legs, into the air, and splashed back down right onto the massage controls – shorting them out.  But the chair didn’t stop, it increased to the point of hopping up and down on the floor instead.  

OK, so I froze.  I’m not proud of it, but I just couldn’t move.  Don’t get me wrong, I was enjoying the show, but even I could tell in my frozen state that something just wasn’t right about this.  The only movement that I had in me was to shift my perspective because she looked better from above than from a downward angle.

She was obviously both enjoying and hating it at the same time (she later told me that it was best AND the worst day she’s ever had as a provider).  She was in the throes of multiple orgasms even though her hands never ventured south of her belly, and she kept trying to press every part of her body down into the chair; but she was also trying without success to get me to make it all stop.  

I finally decided to act, so I went over and punched down on the off button. It didn't work because it was shorted out, so I ran to the wall and unplugged the chair.  The backup battery kicked in, so that didn't stop it either.  I bent down to her to physically pull her off the chair, but the timing evidently wasn't right because as soon as I got within reach, she grabbed two handfuls of my hair as if it were the covers on a bed and started shaking my head in all directions while screaming: “You’re A Fucking Asshole!!…. Thank You!!!, Thank You!!!, Thank You!!...FUCK OFF!!”  And then another “YEESSS!!”  as two clumps of hair finally came out of my head and I could escape.

Cont>.....

-- Modified on 4/1/2014 10:06:09 AM