Reese

I originally found Reese on Backpage. She almost always advertised in “massage,” but very occasionally in escorts. Normally, massage means minimal contact, but “escort” means more. The cross-posting indicated to me she would not be too offended by my requests, even if I asked for more than just a massage. [Actually, the prissiness I’m implying could very well be overstated, since more than one of her massage ads offered optional, obviously up-charged, prostate massage. ~~~]

I was searching massage because the escort section had gotten too familiar to me—same unreliable chicks, same song and dance. I called Reese, who was using another name on BP. We made some small talk, and I asked her to make an outcall. I thought that’s what her ad offered, but this is apparently almost always a no-no in her book. For some reason she agreed to come over, she explained later it was because of my innocent and trustworthy voice, because I didn’t squawk about her price, and because I offered to pick her up and bring her back. I met her in town twenty minutes later.

One interesting twist obtained with our first encounter, that Reese did not post her photo. This first time I picked her up, I had no idea what she looked like. I was pleasantly surprised to say the least, when Reese got into the car and turned out to be tall, slender, broad-shouldered, with elegant posture and quite beautiful features. Glorious ass. I thought she was a dancer, or a dance teacher. She had long straight brown hair she took care of. Pulled it back into a ponytail in the car more than once, and when she did, her hair wafted a subtle aroma of cleanliness.

Reese was easy to talk to, with a quick and slightly dark sense of humor. She used that annoying but almost universal expression, “Riiighttt?” to indicate assent, like the rest of the people of her generation, roughly twenty years my junior. “Riiighhtt?” indicates agreement with the premise of the conversation while simultaneously rejecting any further interest in the details.

As much as my eyes love holding her in their gaze, Reese is not perfect, with a pointed nose, overbite, slightly sunken cheeks, tracks from shooting dope (which were revealed from under her sleeves when she plied this trade) but with a clear complexion, and features pretty from almost every angle. She seemed both slim and comfortably substantial, graceful and balanced, with a lovely vibe that felt calming. When we got to my house, and into my bedroom, I offered her some weed, which she turned down. Then I offered her some cocaine to smoke. She immediately relaxed, acceded, and our talk turned easy-going and silly. She had brought her own stem. Of course she had brought her own stem, and rig, and some down. This is how Reese rolls.

We puffed and talked and looked one another over, and I proceeded to explain to her, in what was for me now a normal provider opening information session, about my infirmities and what I expected. “I can’t have penetrative sex because my prostate was removed and I rarely get hard enough. I only reliably get off with oral, it feels just right even if I’m not hard, even better if I am, my orgasms are dry, I like touching,” I told her, as she smiled and slid closer, sitting beside me on the side of the bed. Reese reached over to grasp my belt, leaned in and growled in a silly, cartoonish whisper, “Well, I think we can take care of that!”

I slipped my fingers under its tiny lace protection to press fingertips and palm against her pretty trimmed posterior.

We got mostly undressed, began to touch, calm, exploring, but not dawdling, each of us murmuring serial approvals. I laid on my back atop the blankets, with Reese on hands and knees, nearly perpendicular to me, where she could fellate me while my hands explored the fine geography of her body. This was a warm night in early summer, and the bedroom air was perfectly close and felt like no temperature at all. I believe by then Reese wore only a maroon thong, and among our throes, I slipped my fingers under its tiny lace protection to press fingertips and palm against her pretty trimmed posterior.

Her blowjob was superb, unhurried, with her finally on her knees on the floor in front of me, while I sat, legs spread and dangling over the side of the bed, one or the other leg alternately wrapping around her torso, her head briskly nose-breathing up and down in my lap, all business now. I slid in and out of her mouth, as she orchestrated lips, tongue, and the rhythm of her breathing into a truly pleasurable suction, holding my legs with her hands, every full stroke just like the last but better, slightly louder, or faster, with more cymbal or oboe or harp glissando, like a Phillip Glass sonata, each handful of measures repeating the last handful, and at the same time rising and deepening in texture, allegro ma non troppo, frequency and amplitude, fast, quick breaths, and tits.

Reese listened for my rhythm, found it, never paused, and this first time, she even offered her pony tail for me to hold and direct her movements. I thrilled to hear her breathing vivace con brio, through her nose, exhaling encouraging murmurs, brilliantly accelerating with me until I felt my climax organizing itself, climbing through my body from the tips of my fingers and toes back, toward my center, my core, my groin, and I felt that electric surge that bends gravity itself. I stiffened, gripped her ponytail, implored her. to. do. yes. exactly. that, and I climaxed deeply, held tight and immobile in her mouth, both of us panting like horses, smiling, shivering, twitching electrically, little spontaneous giggles. We slowed, stopped, then barely separated, with her face in my hands. As we calmed down, she laughed, looked up at me, smiling and still panting, said, “Well, that was a workout! You sure you came?”

This was lovely! A warm, early-summer night, with this beautiful girl who was someone new and fun and relaxing to get high with. There is much more to the story of Reese. So much more! I never again got my hands on Reese’s lovely but sacred sex. Her angle is, “Some shit you just don’t get to have.” I take this as a challenge. Please keep reading.