An escort life

She is stunning beautiful in her sexy, short black dress and stiletto.

She keeps getting phone calls of clients longing for her cares.

She drinks sweet wine and doesn't like radish because she only wants sweet things. 

She insists she wants to be my slave yet I sense she's not really into it. 

She's just 25, or maybe "barely". 

She can hardly stop checking continuously many various social networks on her two smartphones. So I impose that on her and she resists at least until it doesn't ring again.

She asks me to bring her home because a client is waiting already but, totally unexpectedly she seems to have not the keys. They are likely sitting comfortably on a table next to the entrance door. Poor mindless Brazilian girl.

So we spend two hours together, in the large bed in my moto caravan, and I get to find out that her glamour is but just a very light coating.

She's filled with so much sadness. 

She's crashed from within by such an abysmal emptiness that words barely can express or but her years are indeed quite talkative. 

She misses her home so much that in her memory it is wonderful.

Then finally her friend gets back home and she stamps on my lips a lovely, empty yet not-so-fake, kiss and trots away on her sexy stiletto.

Instructions for cruising apps

Sooner or later one gets involved - entangled? Stuck up? - with some hook up app, such as grindr for example. 

And expectations grow high, with all those pics and profiles and chatting and pics trading as when you were a kid trading football players cards. 

And then usually nothing happens. 

Or one reads about cruising places, dark parking lots or parks and you plan your trips accordingly and there actually are people walking around or standing by the car looking around or maybe caressing their crotch.

Then nothing happens. Again. 

And one gets used to that yet keeps visiting and chatting and planning. People can be optimistic beyond their same general idea and experiences.

Generally speaking you'll get under the impression that everyone you'd meet there is actually waiting for something... different. Unmistakably a meeting of deluded expectations. So sad. 

Occasionally, and at price of becoming a very active bottom, there will be quick, generally unsatisfactory head job you'll give and some touching here and there. 

But from time to time something happens. 

You respond to a very late call - about 2:00 am - and meet a guy that is the only one in a very large parking beside a small lake and he's got a really nice face and an even nicer cock and brought the condoms, even. 

And he knows how to touch you and gets you to moaning for more and his dick just fits nicely into your mouth and he grabs your head with his full hands and make you feel he knows how to be in charge. And even the slight smell of urine - a not perfectly clean penis, one supposes - become sexy and turns you on. 

Things get even nicer when he turns around you and makes you first kneel and then stand on your four legs and starts caressing your ass, slapping it occasionally but with intention and finally some saliva helps his fingers in, and it's one, then the thumb, then two fingers, then three and you moan and enjoy and he appreciates and gets his condom and puts it on. 

You wiggle gently your ass in front of him, your back arched as your head smells the wet grass and your arse is up and ready, while he puts it on. 

And here he comes. And fucks you nice and you hug and hold to his dick and moan and help him in and he thrusts in and out and you bounce back and forth and enjoy it until he gets it out and cums and it's all so sexy. 

I usually don't like sex en-plain aire but some times...