One Saturday morning, I read a glowing review of Kayla on a local forum, and the writer told me personally that if I had the chance, I should definitely see her. The problem was that she was leaving town later that evening, so there were only a few hours left to meet up with her. Compounding that issue was the fact that I had seen a different young lady the day previous day, and this old guy normally needs a few days to "recharge the batteries" for peak performance after a workout like I had been put through. And there may or may not have been other nefarious activities that had taken place in recent hours (I am NOT the Master of My Domain).
So after debating whether to see her or not, Little Jimmy spoke up and made the decision final, and I emailed Kayla, introduced myself, gave her my preferred time, then sat back and waited for a reply. When I heard nothing back immediately, I decided that if I was really going to have a chance of meeting her, I had better speak to a live person. I called Apres-Vous, gave them my screening information, chose an available time, then once screening was completed successfully, Gwen called me back and gave me the location. After a thrash to get ready, I arrived a few minutes early (nice hotel near the airport), and then after a few more phone calls, I headed up to Kayla's room.
I knocked lightly on her door, and it opened to reveal a beautiful, smiling woman who towered over me (I'm 5'9"), dressed in a black bra, tiny g-string, and some dangerously sharp 5" heels. I showed her my ID (necessary for agency newbies), laid the envelope on the dresser and we retired to the bed for some playful touching, flirting, and kissing while we became acquainted.
I learned Kayla just turned 24, is a mix of Danish and Creole, has strawberry blond hair, long lashes, and a really cute sprinkle of freckles across her nose; she is knock-out gorgeous and is one of the most, if not THE most attractive providers I have seen to date. I'm ashamed that I do not recall the color of her eyes; whenever I looked at them, those long eyelashes drew my gaze away and I focused on them. To me, she looked like the quintessential California Girl, and although she was born overseas, she has not the slightest accent. She is tall, slim, has a dancer's build with great legs and feet, awesome DD size natural boobies, and an all-around rockin' body. Her Kitty is bare, delicious and responsive. She is extremely flexible. That's her in the photos, and they are dead-on accurate.
I must admit that when I read her previous review, I was dumbfounded; my first thought was the writer could not have seen the same woman I did. Did he knock on the wrong door? My sworn testimony is this: Her hair is not brown, nor is it curly; it is strawberry blond and straight; African American and Puerto Rican? That, my friends, is laughable; the Danish heritage she has is the dominant gene in her appearance, and her complexion matches mine in color (I am a blue-eyed Aryan that is only a few felony convictions away from Skinhead City). Her age? I did not check her I.D., but she looks and feels 24 to me; there is not an ounce of flab or cellulite on her, nor are there any stretch marks.
As we continued to kiss and touch each other, my clothes started coming off with Kayla's help, and soon her awesome boobs were out and proud and Little Jim was waking up. She offered a massage (with or without some lightly-scented lotion), and since my SO was out of town, I chose "with", and as I lay down, she began to knead the muscles in my back. Now, I will admit I am not a good judge of massage skills; the ones I have received from professionals involve as much pain as pleasure, but I do know Kayla's hands felt really good moving along my body, and soon I turned over, sat up, and we came together in a close embrace as our tongues danced in a deep soul kiss.
PM’s, read on; all others, if you get the chance, go see her!