Callgirl service

I was flipping through a skin mag when an ad caught my eye. Wives do have a habit of disappearing right when it counts. I dialed the number anyway. She walked in—blonde, young, already smiling like she knew the ending. I closed the door behind her and felt the afternoon tilt. Her mouth found me first, warm and greedy, lips working like they’d done this a hundred times before. When she turned around and offered her ass, I didn’t hesitate. The first push made her gasp; the second made her push back. She took every inch like a good girl trained to please. Later, when I painted her face, she licked the corner of her mouth and grinned, proof the call had been worth every penny.