Sunday rolls around, and I am hungover badly.
Determined to do something fun, I find my way to Manly Beach and go crash there. Laying in the sun for hours surrounded by bikinis makes me seriously horny. (Mind you less than a year ago I was perfectly happy with 10 minutes of sex with my wife twice a year, and spanking to “Ifeelmyself.com” on a daily basis). Now suddenly it has been more than a week since my last ‘session with a provider’, and I’m crazy horny for a hot naked woman.
When I get back to the apt, I start cruising for an aussie girl in the online postings. Not much luck at first. Mostly imports (EE and Asian).
Finally, I find a perfectly acceptable candidate (according to the photos). She just posted a few minutes earlier and google indicates she is 20 minutes away by car. I email a request and she replies immediately. Her Name is Amelia.
We set it for 2 hours later. I hop in a shower then jump in the car.
NOTE: Sydney has great local transport: trains, ferries, readily available cabs, and a strong Uber network. I, as a dumb ass American, rented a car for the week.
So here I am driving in the dark (following shitty GPS on my iPhone), and chanting to myself “LEFT LANE, LEFT LANE”. Risking fiery death, I rocket over the Harbor Bridge to get laid with a local Sydney girl.
Hertz is gonna bill me a fortune for all these toll roads.
45 mins to find a spot to park which is hell and bent from her apt. I walk dark streets with a wad of cash in my pocket and a “rob me” sign hanging around my neck, but make it on time somehow, and do not get mugged en route.
I find her place, TXT….and she is not ready (just another half hour). FUCK.
I sit on some steps in the dark and wait. Half an hour later, she is ready. Awesome.
My dick could cut glass at this point. She buzzes me up.
Lo and behold, not the girl in the picture. FUCK.
However, she IS beautiful, but not my normal type. As “not the girl in the picture” experiences go, this is the better scenario. Women post false (or old) photos all the time for a variety of reasons.
Amelia is much bigger than I normally prefer, and definitely bigger than in the picture. Nonetheless…curvy, beautiful, and still smoking hot, just not my normal thing. In the US, I consider this type girl, “thick”, but not BBW.
She considers herself a size 14, which I later discovered in the text of her ad, when I went back and read it more closely.
Firm, athletic, confident and sexy. She could be a model. Black lace teddy, gorgeous face and eyes, a wavy mane of dark hair, and her DD’s are natural. SOLD! (hunger is the best spice).
I follow her in. Icing on the cake: fantastic full back piece tattoo that is wicked and sexy. “I think this is gonna work out ok” as I close the door behind me, hoping that was not my out loud voice.
We get back to the bedroom and start chatting. She is from Seattle, not an Australian. WTF?!. She has a great Aus accent, which she dropped as soon she found out I was from the US.
We get down to business, and I am not disappointed. Great session (I can still picture the tattoo draped by that beautiful wavy hair).
Afterwards, I hear people talking, plates clattering, and figure the walls in her place are thin.
Nope. I walk out of the bedroom and her housemates are home: man and a woman….like an older married couple.
The guy says hi as I leave. Welcome to the land of legal escorting. No big deal, our roomie has a client in. As soon as we heard the guy blow his wad, we figured it was time to start dinner. Gd’evening m8! LOL.
I get lost on the way back to the car, but feel better because the cash is all gone; at least now if I get mugged, there is nothing to steal but this damn cell phone.
Strangely, Sydney seems fairly safe at night on the streets alone. I am probably just lucky. I find the car, buy a meat pie at a bakery next to the garage. Head back to my flat (learning the lingo 😉 ).
No fiery death on the bridge. Sleep like a baby