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No. 115661 - Published 31 Dec 2013

Review of Sabrina of London

Details of Visit
Location 2:Maida Vale
Type of Visit:Incall
Date and Time of Visit:Fri 20 Dec 2013 18:00
Duration of Visit:30 Minutes
Amount Paid:70

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Details of Service Provider
Profile Name:House of Divine - click to view profile in a new window
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The Premises
This was arranged at very short notice. A little window opened for me, I made the call, HOD were having a quiet day, and I was in there like a rat up a drainpipe.
The Lady
Sabrina is late 20’s, fit as a butchers dog, suspiciously plump – but horribly kissable - lips. Smooth skin, lovely boobs. Overall, a pretty hot package. (is she a personal trainer in the real world? She certainly has that shape. she feels 'firm')

In effect, my Christmas present to me - my ‘Christmas box’. (Sorry)
The Story
This punt came after a break of at least six weeks, and I was in quite a state. Bit like that scene in Anchorman, when Ron asks out Veronica while sporting a massive boner. Previous to this, I’ve been seeking out slender 21 year olds with biggish tits. A throwback to the summer, when at work I was surrounded by young girls in gladiator sandals and swirly summer dresses. Torture. This led me to a couple of HOD ladies, and some random picks from AW. Overall, they just didn’t seem that into me, which is always a big turn off, so none of them merited a second visit. Sabrina doesn’t have this age profile, but from the moment she sashayed into the room, I realised I was in for an old school treat. I shall be back for more.

We giggled at each other, we snogged, she sucked, we sixty-nined, we shagged. From the start she seemed to be thoroughly enjoying herself, and at the end, as I was shag/spooning her from the rear, she started to play with herself, and after about five minutes she seemed to bring herself off. Marvellous. Ladies – do this, and I will be your loyal sex slave-slash-customer for life. When I leave a girl thinking I have been with my mistress, then I can’t ask for more. I am on my way home as I write this, and I realise I’ve not had that knackered, sated, blissed-out, still a little bit randy feeling for ages. That, my friends, is the sign of a good punt.

This puts me in mind of my first ever punt, which was also a Christmas present from me to me about four years ago. She was called Laura. Really pretty, young eastern European girl, £200/ph, so a rather different class to my subsequent dalliances. ‘Can I kiss you?’ I remember asking, after sitting on her sofa for a while. Sweet. Now I’d have my cock down the back of her throat after three minutes. She totally blew my mind, and ensured that I squandered all my spare cash on WG’s from that day forth. (I went to see her again two years later at the same time of year, out of a sense of nostalgia. She had put on weight, and was much less gamine. I guess we had both changed. ‘The past is a foreign country, they do things differently there’)