I know I Shouldn’t, But I Can’t Help It.

I know I Shouldn’t, But I Can’t Help It.

You know as part of the WG training, we all pledge to treat all clients the same, wether young, old, thin, fat, fit, hung or chipolata. Well, I may have to return my membership card. Because even thought I do treat older, less fit gents to a good service, and do my job to the high standards I set for myself. The younger, good looking fit ones get me. They get me in all my horny glory. It is so hard to get truly turned on by a set of sagging balls, and moobs. Sorry, it is. It doesn’t mean that I will shirk my duty and not give a good service. Not at all, I am a skilled actress, and can moan on queue like the most seasoned porn star. I can clinch my vaginal muscles and buck as if in the throws of unbridled passion, kiss passionately, and look longingly into their eyes whilst thinking about what colour to paint the downstairs bathroom. I have become a past master at uh-humming at the majority of the conversation, most men aren’t interested in having anything more that a sounding board anyway. So I will let them rattle on about this that and the other. They are happy for the attention, and I am happy for the money. Everyone wins.

But let a fit, handsome specimen of manhood wonder into my boudoir, and the dynamic is different. I am front, center and present for the encounter, believe me when a decent looking, sweet smelling man, with a six pack, and a decent sized dick wonders into a girls bedroom, it is to her benefit to take full advantage the bounty that has been placed before her. Oh and do I! I mean seriously I have been known to rape the odd luscious looking gent, and send him home buzzing. Only to replay the lovely moments later on when a girl needs wanking fodder. I am human after all.

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