No. 118856 - Published 25 Dec 2014
Review of Regina of London
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The flat was in what appeared to be a council block, which was not a problem in itself, about five minutes’ walk from Waterloo station. I'd travelled by train and parking would be difficult in that area. When I rang from outside she said she needed another 15 minutes. It had already been postponed earlier by a half an hour via text message. When I rang later it was difficult to understand her instructions. I should’ve sensed all was not well and walked. From the first contact earlier that day she’d used a high-pitched voice, rather like a pseudo-little-girl voice. A warning? I asked her to speak louder and more slowly and she said something about a bad signal. I eventually found the gate and buzzer panel. From the little courtyard I managed to find the buzzer panel for the stairs without any help from her. The flat was on the first floor. I wasn’t offered a shower but I'd had one about an hour beforehand.
Keep away. I eventually concluded she was probably high on something. You have been warned!
Regina had a Middle-Eastern complexion but said she was born here. She greeted me in underwear, a black lace camisole-type thing over her black undies, stockings and no shoes. I was led into the bedroom. She said there were two other escorts in the flat, one a TV (note: a bloke, probably younger and stronger than me!). She looked about 40 and not the 32 advertised, but the face fitted the pics on her A/W page. She was the same height as me in her stockings (5’10”), quite thin and didn’t look like the size 10 advertised.
Yet again I’ve been fooled by the cowardly creative-writing feedback on A/W (they can’t all have found her on a ‘good’ day). Somehow I’d thought there was a positive review on P’net, but realized I was mistaken when I checked again later at home. We sat on the bed, she prattled on in the same annoying high-pitched voice and fiddled with the laptop for ages trying to find some music. She occasionally spoke in a normal adult voice. A lot of time was spent fetching me a glass of water (not a major operation, is it?), going to another room for some time to send someone a text and prattling on about anything and everything. I noticed flecks of spittle on both corners of her mouth and a white coating on her tongue. When I brush my teeth I’m careful to brush my tongue to remove any tea/coffee discoloration. Was she high, should I leave? The room was spartan and dishevelled; there were twin electric sockets hanging loose from the wall. This was a dump!
We sat on the bed. She was hunched up and kept on talking as though trying to avoid physical contact. Wasting time? She said she likes to chat to help her relax “before the time starts”. Eventually she lowered her upper garment and removed the bra revealing obviously enhanced stand-up breasts (I saw the surgery scars) which looked like a theatrical attachment. I tried to chat but it was impossible to speak intelligently with her. By now I’d handed over the money (£120). It was cold, so she switched on a heater. I got my kit off and she started to suck Mr Floppy. It was difficult to use my hands on her as she remained hunched-up. After some 15 minutes I concluded it was a waste of time and money.
I looked at my watch and, fabricating an excuse, said I had to be gone very soon. She said she had a ‘refund policy’ if there was a delay. As I put my kit on she put a £20 note on the cabinet. “Is that all?” I asked. She put a tenner on top of it. I was aware that there were two others in the flat, so I didn’t want to risk making a fuss.
Then, I left. It cost me £90, a complete waste. My £90 may well have been spent on another fix. It was the first time I’ve come across someone who appeared to be under the influence of drink or drugs but I’ve learned an expensive lesson. Again, you gents have been warned. Keep away, and be very wary of relying on A/W feedback alone!
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