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For those of you who don’t already know, I love escorts. For many reasons, but mostly because you always know what you’re getting. Namely, laid. Without any hassle, without any bullshit, without the slightest worry. Just a phone call and a few hundred dollars and you can make any of your wildest fantasies a reality. One of the few certainties in an increasingly uncertain world. That being said, even a complete control freak like myself occasionally likes a little uncertainty. Not enough to wonder about whether or not I’m going to get laid, mind you, but sometimes I don’t want to know beforehand exactly how the night is going to go. Believe it or not, every once in a while, even I like a little mystery. So on this night, when I call that special number I tell the familiar voice on the other side of the line that I don’t have a specific preference for that night. Looks, attitude, style, body type; it doesn’t matter. Surprise me. I know it doesn’t sound like much, but for me that’s going out on a limb. Curious to hear how it turns out? Then continue on.

I’m just finishing my fourth Jack and Coke when the doorbell rings. I jump up and head towards the door, more excited than usual to see what I have waiting for me. Usually I take a nice long look out of the peephole to satisfy my curiosity—not to mention make sure I like what I see before I let them in my hotel room—but on this night I decide to continue with the uncertainty theme and open the door without taking a look.

As I watch her enter the room my uncertainty grows even further. I’m a creature of habit, and even though there’s a certain level of variation with the girls I order, it’s generally superficial; their hair color, the size of their boobs, their personalities, that sort of thing. At their core, the girls are always very similar. They’re young, they play up their slutty side, and their bodies are either tall and athletic or small and petite. That’s just the way I like them. But not this girl. She’s different.

First of all, she’s older. 27, maybe 28. Not old by any means but older than what I’m used to. Second, she’s got enormous tits. Practically the size of my head. Not that this is a bad thing, mind you, but again, it’s different. She’s very tall—practically my height even without heels—and built like a brick shithouse. She not fat, not even close, but she’s definitely healthy, from her huge rack to her midsection to her relatively large (but admittedly sexy) ass to her powerful, figure-skater legs. She’s wearing normal clothes; blue jeans, a partially open leather jacket revealing a black bra underneath and black shoes. She’s got a gorgeous face, with big brown eyes, full lips and long, wavy brown hair. Her makeup is subtle, accentuating her features but not drowning them, making her look more like a movie star than a slutty escort, which there’s absolutely nothing wrong with, it’s just not what I’m used to.

“You’re disappointed, aren’t you?” she says in a slightly scratchy, smoky voice. The smirk on her face implies that she’s not bothered at all by this, merely amused.

One of the best things about hiring escorts is you don’t have to worry about lying to save their feelings. It’s much easier to tell the truth to a woman when you’re paying for her services.

“I wouldn’t put it that way,” I say. “I’m just . . . uncertain.”

“Why’s that?”

“You’re just different, that’s all. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re hot and all, you’re just not what I’m used to.”

“That’s kind of the point, isn’t it? You wanted to try something a little different, right? At least, that’s what I was told.”

“Actually, it is.”

“So why are you stressing over it?” she says. “You’re getting what you wanted, right? Even if you didn’t know exactly what it is you were getting?”

I offered a little chuckle. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Then just relax,” she says as she steps in closer and places a hand on my chest.. “I promise you’ll have a great time. Possibly even the best time you’ve ever had with a girl.” Her hand runs down my abdomen and over my crotch. My cock flutters a bit and her smirk grows into a knowing smile. Her voice drops to an alluring, nasty whisper. “Because while those young little sluts may have tighter bodies and prettier faces I guarantee they don’t know half the things I do. Or enjoy fucking nearly as much as I do.”

A tingle goes through my body and settles into my cock, which is growing more stiff with every word she utters. Suddenly I realize I’m no longer uncertain about this night, merely excited. Excited as I’ve ever been. She senses it too, or perhaps she just feels it filling up her hand, but either way she grabs my arm and leads me to the couch on the other side of the room.

Once there, she turns me around so my back is facing the couch and gives me a little push in the chest, sitting me down. She leans in towards me, her face mere inches from mine. I can smell peppermint

on her breath.

“Now just sit back and relax and let me do my thing,” she says as she unzips the rest of her jacket and slips it off. She then flicks her hair to one side and unclips her bra and lets it fall to the ground, setting free her glorious tits. She grabs one, starts playing with it, then brings it up to her mouth and starts sucking on the nipple.

She looks at me, sees me staring at her, pops her nipple out of her mouth and gives me a wide smile.

“You like these, do you?” she says, squeezing her tits together.

I nod.

“You want to suck on them and slap them and fuck them, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I manage to squeak through my dry throat.

“I bet you do,” she says with a laugh.

She undoes her belt and then the buttons on her jeans, one at a time, slowly, savoring each one, building my anticipation. Once all the buttons are free she turns around so her ass is facing me and bends over at the waist, her legs straight. She wiggles out of her jeans slowly, revealing her round, perfect ass an inch at a time, deliberately torturing me.

Finally her jeans are off. The only clothing still on her body is a tiny black g-string. She drops onto all fours, her ass still facing me. She reaches around with her left hand and starts rubbing her pussy through the black panties. She turns her head and looks over her shoulder at me.

“What about my pussy?” she says. “Do you want lick it and slap it and fuck it too?”

“Very much so,” I say. The words sound pathetic coming out of my mouth but I’m beyond caring.

She laughs again and turns and crawls towards me. When she reaches me she stands up and steps forward and straddles me—one leg on each side—then leans forward and shakes her tits from side to side, her nipples brushing up against my mouth. I grab one tit in each hand and squeeze. She grabs the back of my head and pulls it forward, pressing it into her chest. With my head between her massive tits, I squeeze them together, smashing my face between them. I stick out my tongue and lick her chest, tasting the sweat off her skin. She releases some of the pressure and I pull back, sliding my mouth over to her rock-hard nipple. I take the nipple in my mouth and suck on it greedily, still squeezing her other tit with my free hand. She moans and throws her head back.

“That’s right, baby, just like that,” she says as she slides back and forth on my crotch. “Suck on those fucking titties.”

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