Once upon a thanks-giving day, I checked in the local top country club hotel at a B&B rate. The weather was cold, but not too cold. But it was damp, it was raining all day and the sky was dark. I was moody, who wasn’t. I needed some warmth. I needed someone to hold. I needed a woman. The window of opportunity opened, I brought a local newspaper and looked up the personal section.

Usually there won’t be too much agencies to choose from. But then they all looked the same. A small ad caught my eyes – specialize in students, secretaries, teachers, nurses, etc. The name of the agency sounded familiar but I never tried. I was really looking for a model type today to thank myself. But I know that local selections are not as great as in London. Not that they are not good, I had very good experiences, but on the balance of probability, it is a bit less likely that you will find what you are looking for. But only if you really know what you want. I have heard of large number of semi-pros in local areas. Of course if what they said are true, you can’t get to them directly. I have seen ads that will mail you a large portfolio if you send them 5 pounds. I never believed them and I never had the chance to try. This time, when in Rome, you should try the local talents. I could always turn them away.

An older woman answered the phone. I had good idea how students and nurses looked over there. I had no curiosity what they do as long as they are pretty. There are plenty of high school dropouts in London. Here they would probably give me some university students, might be easier or harder to put up with. Everyone could be a secretary. I had seen many pretty nurses and secretaries and receptionist. Looking back, I would have tried teachers. But that day, none of the above rang my bell. And I didn’t try to believe them too much in case they disappoint me. So I tried my usual. Again I was thinking about a little bit more mature one, but I still subtracted 2 years from the figures when I remembered Jami of London. I said, ’18 year old blonde’. I didn’t even try to elaborate in case she had to stop me.

She quickly said that she had two blondes, top girls of hers, both 25. Hard luck, these must be her only two girls that cover my area. They can be up to thirty something. That’s fine by me if they have the right body to go with it. But it’s risky, you don’t know until they are fully undressed. She then went on to describe each girl, and explain to me the different types of blonde. Same as their age, nothing outstanding, and probably plain brownish hairs. I wasn’t listening as I was deciding whether to pull out. Anyway, the first one sounded a little bit better and I picked her. Not really picked her, but put her on the shopping cart first and see what will happen next. She said, ‘that’s 120 and she is a nurse’. That familiar figure again. Again I had prepared enough foreign currency to double that, which cost me a lot of commission to get that sort of cash at the rack rate. But then her last words made me curious. She could have not say a word. Thinking of all those young pretty junior nurses that I had seen in the hospitals, I hit the continue button. Although 25 is a bit overage for a nurse, for the sort of nurse that I wanted.

Of course I had to talk to her first. A young nice voice called me back in a moment. I would have thought that she might be younger if I didn’t know she is at least 25. I wasn’t thinking about phone sex this time, but those beautiful receptionists who mostly have nice voices and speak well, and have a nice face and body to go with it. Her name is R. I was prepared to be picky this time. I asked her whether she would kiss. She hesitated. I know I know, to promise anything is a blank check. I feel sorrow for them if they have to kiss anything they find when the room door opens. But some don’t kiss at all. Sometimes that’s not important but not today. The weather is perfect. She hesitatedly said yes without me pushing. Then I asked whether she would take a shower first. She agreed but I knew she hesitated again. I know some guys do some weird things in the showers but not me, at least not this time. I am not going to do any water sport or make any rain. I just want a clean body to move down in case I over kissed her lips. Well, I am not done yet. Picky, am I? ‘I like short skirts’, I said. She was worried and responded naturally, ‘I will try but I don’t want to be too obvious at the hotel.’ I agreed. I may resort to ask her to strip for me before I hand over the money. Most don’t. But a girl in LA did. She was all in expensive leathers, in trousers. And she was too good to be true, beautiful face and looked like a Bazillion model, though she was charging $500. I wasn’t pushing, I just politely asked her to show me more of her. Since she knew I wouldn’t part with my money, she took off everything except her tiny bra and panties. All the time she complained that I probably wanted a free show and would walk away after that. Of course I didn’t walk away, there’s nothing wrong. She’s not perfect, but you do need self-confidence to strip like that.

R asked if it’s OK that she came in one hour. She must be joking. It’s very reasonable, especially if some agencies have to send girls from other towns or London. But in one hour, I could have turned down two girls. That’s the advantage of doing a local outcall. I didn’t give her any pressure but she sensed it. She said she would try earlier. I just told her to call me first if she’s late.

She arrived in half an hour, caught me in the bathtub. I put on the bathrobe and peeped through the door. Wow, I couldn’t have specified this. She is wrapped from neck down to toes with a black overcoat, standard issue. Plain hair without much volume, dark brown, not short but at most neck length, a little curled. Very little makeup if any. Neither tall nor short, about 5’5 to 5’7. Not large or petite. Doesn’t look young or old, 25 is about right. But I wouldn’t have minded if she were over 30 when she looked like that. She was very lovely just by the look of her face. If you picked any of your dream girls and strip her of any fancy stuff, few would have survived. R is beautiful and has a pair of large lovely eyes, which she seemed to have trouble opening them. Long curly eyelashes, which were real, she couldn’t afford anything to drop loose from her at work. R has a very natural lovely smile, and waited very confidently at the door. She could have got the job of doing ads on TV or background actors in infomercials – more beautiful than most stars, natural, lovely, sweet, plain looking at first glance, but you just couldn’t look at them enough. The more you look, the more lovely and sexy they became, then you start to fantasize about them. Then the ad ends and you couldn’t have remembered exactly how they looked like because there’s no special features about them. The next time you start to look at them and fantasize all over again, even though they sell frying pans.

I opened the door and we both gave each other a big smile. For me it was a nice surprise. I was hoping that the rest of her won’t turn me off, then we can get down to business quick, kissing. For her I think it was a relief. She didn’t have to kiss Frankenstein after all. And I don’t look like a weirdo that will do nasty things. Indeed the way she looked at me, I was feeling like I was the escort and she is the client. I haven’t even finish with the bath, and thanks to the hotel I used one of the most expensive bath gels you can find in any supermarket. It’s also my favorite since to me the smell is full of sex. My hair is wet but tower dried. I look better that way since I don’t do any expensive haircuts, I don’t need to. I was in a pure white full-length thin cotton bathrobe the hotel provides, and the effect will be pretty dramatic if she wears that. Not to mention that I was naked and just covered myself lightly by holding together the robe with one of my hands. I let her in and go back to complete the bath.

I dried myself quickly and went back out. She took off her overcoat already. I was amused. She wore a short skirt alright, but she didn’t give anything away. She was wearing something like a little top, but it was wool and long sleeved. It was a tight little skirt made of wool, but she wore legging. She didn’t show any flesh. But she is very cute like that. A bit like a school girl but obviously at her age she wouldn’t wear it around town without the overcoat. I thought I could have told her to take off some more, but I was already satisfied with what I see. I don’t expect her to have a great body, but a body as lovely as her face will do, an overall attractive REAL woman.

We took care of business. Then I offered her the minibar and she took the orange juice, and made sure that the seal wasn’t broken before I opened it for her. Clever isn’t she? or cautious. We started talking on the sofa. Now the nurse bit began to sink in. She can’t have anything on her that will affect her job. No fancy shampoo, or spray. So her hair just hang there like that without much style and volume. Natural neck length hair with a little bit of natural curl at the end. To be curlier or straighter would require unnatural means that may not be approved for her patients. I doubt if she has any makeup on except for a little of red lips. Perfectly clean nails, cut short down to the fingers, of course no color. It’s the next best thing to the so-called French style manicure. Nothing should be able to fall of from her when she is working. So her clothes follow her style that nothing is fancy. She could have found some excuse going off early from the hospital and rushed to the hotel. Otherwise she could have looked less like a nurse. Will anyone care otherwise? Probably no, since most guys probably just fantasize about the uniform rather than the details. She even showed me her nurse badge. Maybe she tried hard to look like a nurse as her selling point. But she had to be a nurse until very recently. Who would want to look like that if one don’t need to? Actually I can vouch for her since we had a lot to talk about – the town, the hospital. Since I knew enough about them. Once she tensed up when she thought I knew someone in the hospital, but all I mean was that I knew where the local student nurses received their training, medical that is. I think these girls must have some sort of protocol to avoid seeing locals. She is born in that town and brought up in that town, until at least 25. She lives and works there. Not that she is stuck in a small town. That town is one of the types of towns that Santa Barbara got some European flavors from. Some people may pass by one day, fall in love and never leave. That’s not giving up much since London is only 30 mins away. By the way, she could have been wearing the uniform of my favorite girl school when she was a teenager. She must have known a lot of people. I guess they only go to hotels, and try to take only out of towners, a foreign accent will be perfect.

I enjoyed the conversation. I had some local interest, and I was quite interested in her. She was also interested in LA. I told her a lot but not about LA girls. If only she knew they are so bad, she could have get away with anything.

I couldn’t hold it any longer. My lips advanced. She was ready for it because that was my major request. But when I was close enough, she said jokingly, `Just don’t slip in the tongue’. I laughed, which made me pulled out. I knew she was a bit serious as I remembered her hesitant voice on the phone about this. Doing a particular thing is not as important as doing something well. Tongue or not tongue is not the question, I might not have the mood to reach that stage. I regrouped and advanced again. She held up her head a little bit to receive my lips with hers. It was electrifying and I went on to wrap her body in my arms. She did the same. It wasn’t that I had kissed no woman for a long time. When you kiss an escort, you tend to know whether she just let you do it, whether she wanted you to finish ASSP, whether she like you or whether she like to kiss you. R closed her eyes slowly when I was docking on her lips, her eyes had trouble opening anyway. She relied on my arms and body to held her, she relaxed and reacted to my lips. She reacted one step at a time, each time she looked like she was prepared for the long haul, she didn’t start anything I didn’t initiated. OK, that was just the first kiss. So I pulled out without hanging on for too long, but it was long enough.

Now my eyes were on her cute top. It looked very sexy then since I was thinking about kissing her and holding her again without that. I pulled up her top and she finished pulling it out of her head. She was wearing a large bra. It’s not that her breast were large, her bra was actually so large that I had never seen such thing before. Well it was a little bit smaller than a sports bra though. But it was no sports bra, it was natural cotton, not elastic. It was quite thick, but not supposed to make you look larger. It had rather thick straps that looked like she was using her mother’s bra. The color was well-washed pale blue. The bra looked very comfortable and supported her very well. It turned me hard on, it must her work bra, which reminded that she was a nurse, as if I ever forgot that. I advanced again, kissed her and played with her semi-naked body. I hand search her clothes and her body without even going under her bra and skirt. I was not in a rush, I was in for the long-haul. But then she wasn’t this time. She held my hands, dragged me and begged me with her eyes to go along with her into the bathroom. I obliged, though I preferred to play around on the sofa first, but the place is not as important as the feeling that she was comfortable.

She took my request, a shower, as a challenge. She had to get it over with before she could relax. She stripped herself naked and walked into the bath. She knew she didn’t have a model’s body, whatever kind of model. Obviously, she, like most women, doesn’t like the look of their naked body in the mirror. Like most women, she is a little bit embarrassed about her naked body. But she had to give me a good look anyway. That’s the challenge for her. All the intense light bulbs and spotlights in the bathroom didn’t help. For the money I had seen somewhat better bodies. But she wasn’t bad at all. She wasn’t relying on any accessories to look sexy. She wasn’t too large or too small. Breasts, waist, hips, legs and feet, everything was there, naturally attractive. Not bouncing tight as 18 year olds. No work out, not tanned and toned that I don’t necessarily like. A young natural body, somewhere from 25 to below 30 is about right. I was quite happy with that body. But that was just the body. For the whole package, it couldn’t be better for that sort of money.

She was a bit more relaxed that I didn’t go into the bath, since I had a bath already. You can’t do too weird things outside of the bath. She was waiting to see what I wanted. I rubbed her all over with my favorite bath gel. I don’t know why but women are quite appreciative especially if the rubbing is detailed and thorough, down to the toes. Perhaps boyfriends don’t do that, once in a lifetime may be. For me the physical contact feels good, but more importantly I am turned on by the idea that a woman stranger has to stand still and watch me examine and play with her body until I have enough of it. But I was equally turned on by the idea that I am preparing a raw fish, say prime cut of a yellow tail tuna. Wash it thoroughly and later enjoy it mouthful by mouthful , raw. Of course she wasn’t comfortable when I was standing at a distance with my bathrobe on, scanning her body and staring at her body parts that I liked. The wash was OK since she knew I wasn’t going to finger her or something like that. When I finished, she asked if I had finished with my request. I said I did. She was relived and she left the bath happily. I dried her a bit, gave her the towel, held her hands like what she did to me, and dragged her out of the bathroom into the bed.

She was much more comfortable on the bed with both of us naked. She wasn’t into the shower as some bath gel was still on her back. She wasn’t thinking of rinsing as much as getting out of the bath. But it smelled oh so nice! I am not into any fragrance, and I don’t like most toiletries, except this brand, this gel. We started kissing again, each kiss longer than the last one, more lingering than the last one. It couldn’t be. She couldn’t have enjoyed it as much as I do. I was then kissing her non-stop, as much as I enjoyed it, I tried to test her limit as well. But she had no limits. When I was wondering what I could do to test her, when I was running out of variations, she slipped her tongue into my mouth. I fainted, almost. I welcomed her tongue with mine. Dance a while with hers then fight it back to where it came from. My tongue went on to venture into her mouth, search for her tongue and engaged it so it couldn’t escape. It was so wonderful. It was rather logical – when we were kissing that much, what the hack, the tongue wasn’t a big deal any more, and she could just as well enjoy it.

My lips did leave hers from time to time. I kissed every inch of her body starting from the neck. I didn’t stay in one place long. I did the job and went back to French kiss her every minute. Then I went down to kiss her body an inch lower than the last position. It took a long time to get to the feet. I couldn’t bear to turn her over and do her rear side at all. I couldn’t miss those dreamy eyes. Whenever I went up back to her lips, her eyes and lips would take up the docking position with her head slight raised towards me. When our lips made contact, her dreamy eyes would close because of the emotions (or my face?). So did mine. Then we adjust the suction on our lips so that it was perfect. Then she would faint into my arms, though she was already lying on the bed. Sometimes our tongues took over the show. She must have felt my heart beat and heavy breath, and she knew I enjoyed every moment. And she wasn’t hold back anything. She even tried to, again when I was most unexpected, talk dirty. I was in a dreamy state, that was, my large brain wasn’t working much, and I couldn’t hear the few words she said. I wish I knew what she said. I might have ejaculated. But it would be hard to catch what she was saying without the same cultural background. She knew it probably wouldn’t work if I was prepared, and so she didn’t repeat it. I appreciated her effort anyway.

When I finished with her toes, I asked for cover. After that, I took the chance that her lips weren’t busy, and I asked for the regular thing that you wish nurses did all the time. I asked her to suck me. She did, in a rather shy way. Blowjobs weren’t a big deal for the British as for the, say, French. And they say Americans wash their brothers twice everyday in case that they get lucky. She sucked to make me happy, rather than doing a little show, or showing off her techniques. She would rather not let me seeing her lip actions, but her hairs wasn’t blocking much. Recall that her hairs were frequently washed, squeaky clean, neck length, no volume and no styling, hanging from her head just like that, swaying along with her lip actions. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I inserted myself into her shy pussy. It was shy because it wasn’t shaved or partially shaved as most escorts do. Of course I didn’t part with her lips long. I felt we were kissing more passionately than the first few ones because we were then closely connected. Then my lips weren’t moving any more, but I sucked her harder and harder. I held her harder with one hand and grabbed her breast harder with another, and I pumped her harder, and harder. Then I exploded and collapsed on top of her, freeing her from my lips, hands and anything else.

I pulled off the cover myself. Well, it wasn’t a LA massage palour. I covered my brother with a tower, and we started talking again. She brought up about what I was going to do that night, a few times. Since she saw that I found the answer difficult, she answered herself saying that I must be busy seeing my friends. She shouldn’t be too disappointed since I always say that was the first day of my one-week stay. But when the girls find out that you like them very much, and they are free, they always try to date you twice on the same day, giving you no time to change your mind. Since they like you, it’s not hard work, and they can have a good time, and they know that you are so nice that you wouldn’t give them less money for their time. Not much less anyway even though you are not as physically capable as the first date. But then the window of opportunity wasn’t open. I must have wiped her off her feet since she didn’t notice that most of the stuffs in the bathroom couldn’t have been mine.

When we were talking on the bed, I soon found out that her hip was touching mine. She was very subtle. We were barely touching at the hips, but you couldn’t have missed the feeling of a warm body. She was wonderful, wasn’t she? She wasn’t 18 year old sweet. But she was sweet enough, hot and sweet. I could have tried my best if I had a safe time window. I could only reply by kissing her more and holding her more for a while. Then I said that I was very satisfied and I couldn’t manage anything else that day. She could go then if she had something else to do. She was not as cheerful as when she came in, probably rather disappointed. My tips of a 20 note wasn’t helping, that’s 17% compared to 7% in LA that girls are usually happy with. But LA girls know that they are highly overpriced. R probably wasn’t disappointed for not getting my business, wasn’t disappointed for giving out so much without return. She was probably a little embarrassed by her over-confidence, and disappointed that she won’t see me again. Not that she was desperate to see me again, but probably she wished she were attractive enough for me to spend a weekend evening with her, a less physical second date on the same day. Or she just wanted to make me feel guilty. I wished I could, I still had enough foreign cash to have another shot. I also wished to cheer her up before she left, but I couldn’t promise anything I couldn’t deliver, or gave her false hope. I also didn’t tell her I wanted to see her very much but nothing was certain. But the reason wasn’t good to hear anyway. If I managed to see her again, I would give her a big happy surprise. That would have been better than telling her that I wanted to see her again very much, but failed to do so. When she left, I laid down for another five minutes to treasure the good moments and enjoy the smell of the bath gel that was on her body. Then I dressed up, called room service to clean up, and went out to eat something.

Hehe, the opportunity was there the next day, and that would be the last because I had to leave the day after. R would be so happy that she would agree to dance upside down. Girls would be very happy if I see them the week after. The next day? They will see me as a walking bank account transferring the whole balance into their own bank. LA MP’s are quite different though, if they don’t see you every week, they will ask difficult questions. I could take her to lunch -- we looked good together. Every mom will approve that sort of girls. My buddies will approve because she is just beautiful. If I walk into the local hospital and pick anyone, she would be the one. Sorry no, that will probably be a younger leggy junior nurse with a tight fit short skirt. But I would give that up for R, since we snapped so well together, at least our lips did. It won’t be embarrassing at all since I am not hitting at teenagers or older woman. I could drive her up the hills that she would have been there a lot of times when she was still in my favorite girl school. I could give her a house visit. She would have given me her address if I asked. I may even stay the night with her. That would be a sure thing if I call her frequent enough. Oh, I wish I lived there! How about putting on her authentic uniform?

I got the same newspaper, openned the same page, but the agency ad wasn’t there anymore. I was as careful as a spy in not leaving traces if unnecessary. I didn’t keep the newspaper or the agency’s number. Oh, I hate small agencies that don’t spend enough on promotion. The hotel didn’t log phone numbers. I tried yellow pages, no luck. I went back to the shop, joined the line and asked for yesterday’s papers at my turn. The shopkeeper asked why, I said I was interested in a classified ad. She then said unsold papers were returned to the publisher. I should try them. The other people in the line must have laughed their ass off inside. From my behavior, it must be classified personals or something like that. At this stage, I would have driven an hour to get to the publisher, that’s the time I had, considering I had to drive back and spent some time with R. But then the publisher was in town and I knew where. I jumped out of my car when I got to the front door, leaving my car with door and engine on at the middle of the road. But it wasn’t a busy road anyway. Only a few pedestrians were curious. I knew it, the front door was pretty dead as it was a Sunday. I banged on the back door but no one answered. That hurt, not just my hands. Then the thought of losing R began to sink in. I cheered myself up by the thought that I could see her again if I wished, she was just an Atlantic flight away. But it would be different, she wouldn’t have performed any better if she thought I wasn’t that crazy on her after all. And I might try teachers and students since the feeling will probably not be the same even if I kissed R again. I ended up spending the afternoon myself. I certainly would not have enjoyed as much if I kissed another person that day. Though, any female within my grabbing distance ran the risk of being French kissed that day, but they didn’t know.

I didn’t saw R again, not yet. I wasn’t crazy enough about her enough to fly to see her on purpose. A stopover may be. I am also afraid that a kiss is not a kiss anymore when, against all odds, I get face to face with her again. But every thanks giving, I will think about the lovely moments that I had with R. Like this one, the sky was dark in Santa Barbara all day long. The rain kept on pouring, and the california highway petrol was busy scooping up numerous racks along the way. Californian drivers are as laughable as Londoners, who grind to a halt when there is a bit of snow on the ground, while anywhere else in Europe will be a normal busy day. I did pity the Santa Barbarian pelicans though – they probably felt the cold. I wished I were holding R again, locking her lips tight with mine.

You should have got her phone number. Many of the girls I date in the UK will give it to people they like.