Review by DBOLDMAN, December, 2010
Ok, I’m the first one to admit when I have a problem. “My name is Eric (not true of course) and I am addicted to Chelsea Hill.” Maybe there is a seven step process to recovery. Until there is one, I couldn’t resist anther trip deep inside Chelsea Hill. After having a good sales month I decided to get my Chelsea Hill fix and emailed her one afternoon. Instead of getting right to the details: where, when, for how long. Chelsea wanted to know how I had been and what I had been up to. By the time we got to the details of our meeting, we had caught up on the latest with each other and it was like we had been good friends for many years. I know she is not the cheapest provider in the book, but you get what you pay for. Besides you’ll figure out that an addiction like this is only caused by someone who really cares about you and is above and beyond the norm. We eventually picked a time and place. It was an easy location to find, in a nice area and was very convenient for me. My calendar we mostly free that day so I got here early and had a drink in at local bar waiting for her to call. The anticipation was killing me, but I guess that’s part of the addiction. She called right on time and I quickly drove across the street to meet her. When the door opened she wasn’t hiding behind the door but standing directly in front of me wearing a low cut, really short red dress that barley covered anything. I tried to be cool and give her a quick kiss on my way in but she stopped me dead in my tracks and gave me the best DFK I have ever had. The once cold champagne I brought was now ready to pop. We sat on the bed talking, while we drank the champagne (which she loves so don’t forget to bring it). At one point she said that she was getting hot, turned down the thermostat in the room, and while still standing she slipped off that red dress. From here the rest of the time was a hot blur, but for those that are truly interested in what Chelsea is like, please read on........
