My dearest friend and constant companion and I stopped by King's Court in the west end recently. This is not the nicest studio in Edmonton, nor is it in the most savoury district. However, the establishment has a solid track record of offering "hidden gems" of girls who tend to be a little more personable and less jaded than those at other studios, all the while offering excellent service.
I was greeted at the door by Leah. She's a larger blonde with ample breasts spilling out of her top. My best friend took one look at her and insisted we stay.
Leah gives a decent massage, not rushed, and was fairly friendly. There was some teasing during the back massage--necessary to make my friend feel he's not being left out--then she asked me to roll over. We engaged in a little bit of dirty talk, then she asked me what I thought of her breasts. When I replied they were outstanding, she asked--nay, urged--me to suck on them. With my friend cheering me on, I complied.
Given the above, dedicated hobbyists are no doubt now asking, how could I possibly give this sensual, buxom beauty a lukewarm review? Well, she proceeded to a HJ, which was luxurious beyond belief. But when the big moment arrived--as soon as the first drops had made their appearance, she let go of my friend, as if somehow horrified.
In the words of my friend afterwards, "What the &^%#$&* just happened? Just as I reached the pinnacle of success, she pulls away and lets go? What about that?"
It made no sense to me either. What's the point of driving a man to the brink--practically out of his mind, for that matter--only to pull away and leave him on his own at the big moment? What, was she afraid of getting her hands dirty?
Ladies, on behalf of my best friend and all other men's best friends out there, you are going to get your hands dirty in this line of work. If you have no intention of getting the occasional burst of lava on your fingers, then stay off the side of the volcano! And consider another line of work.
I was greeted at the door by Leah. She's a larger blonde with ample breasts spilling out of her top. My best friend took one look at her and insisted we stay.
Leah gives a decent massage, not rushed, and was fairly friendly. There was some teasing during the back massage--necessary to make my friend feel he's not being left out--then she asked me to roll over. We engaged in a little bit of dirty talk, then she asked me what I thought of her breasts. When I replied they were outstanding, she asked--nay, urged--me to suck on them. With my friend cheering me on, I complied.
Given the above, dedicated hobbyists are no doubt now asking, how could I possibly give this sensual, buxom beauty a lukewarm review? Well, she proceeded to a HJ, which was luxurious beyond belief. But when the big moment arrived--as soon as the first drops had made their appearance, she let go of my friend, as if somehow horrified.
In the words of my friend afterwards, "What the &^%#$&* just happened? Just as I reached the pinnacle of success, she pulls away and lets go? What about that?"
It made no sense to me either. What's the point of driving a man to the brink--practically out of his mind, for that matter--only to pull away and leave him on his own at the big moment? What, was she afraid of getting her hands dirty?
Ladies, on behalf of my best friend and all other men's best friends out there, you are going to get your hands dirty in this line of work. If you have no intention of getting the occasional burst of lava on your fingers, then stay off the side of the volcano! And consider another line of work.
