Naview77
09-04-2025, 04:07 AM
Name : jessica
Age : 21
Location : brisbane
Body : slim
Bust : c cup
Damage ：30 min $150
Website : https://www.escortsandbabes.com.au/Profile/QLD/Brisbane/Independent/jsica/
It’s a humid Tuesday evening in Brisbane, the kind where the air sticks to your skin. I’d been scrolling through an escort site for a while, restless, when I came across Jessica’s profile. Twenty-one, slim, C-cup, warm, a little wild, intelligent—her description hooked me. The price was listed: $150 for 30 minutes. Fair enough. I shot her a text, keeping it simple: “Hey, Jessica, booking tonight? 8 PM okay?” She replied within minutes and said yes.
when I knock on her door, Jessica’s standing there, barefoot, in a black slip dress that clings just enough to her slim frame. Her hair’s loose, dark, brushing her shoulders. “Hey,” she says, smiling, her voice warm but with a spark of mischief. “Come in.”
The apartment’s small but tidy—dim lights, a couch, a faint scent of vanilla. I hand her the cash, and she tucks it into a drawer without counting, like it’s routine. “Drink?” she offers, leaning against the counter. I shake my head, too wired to play it cool. She steps closer, her eyes locking on mine, and runs a finger lightly down my arm. “Nervous?” she teases, her lips curling. “Don’t be. I’ll take care of you.” Her touch is soft but deliberate, and my pulse kicks up.
She leads me to the bedroom, a mattress on a low frame, sheets rumpled but clean. She’s close now, her body brushing mine as she tugs at my shirt. “Let’s get this off,” she murmurs, her breath warm against my neck. I pull it over my head, and she presses herself against me, her hands sliding up my chest. “You’re cute when you’re quiet,” she says, her tone playful, and then she kisses me—slow at first, then deeper, her tongue flicking against mine. There’s a wild edge to it, like she’s testing me, and I’m already losing myself in her warmth.
She steps back, slips the dress off in one smooth motion, and stands there in black lace. Slim, toned, her C-cup breasts framed just right. “Lie down,” she says, nudging me toward the bed. I do, and she climbs on top, straddling my hips. Her hands work my jeans open, and she grins as she feels me through the fabric. “Someone’s ready,” she whispers, grinding against me just enough to make my breath catch. She leans down, her hair brushing my face, and kisses my jaw, my collarbone, her lips soft but insistent.
Things heat up fast. She slides off me, tugs my jeans down, and then she’s back, peeling off her own underwear. “Condom,” she says, grabbing one from the nightstand, tearing it open with her teeth. She rolls it on me, her fingers quick and sure, and then she’s guiding me inside her. We start with her on top, cowgirl style, her hips rocking slow and steady. The rhythm’s hypnotic—her breathing mixes with these little gasps, and I can feel her tightening around me. “You like that?” she asks, her voice husky, leaning forward so her chest brushes mine. I nod, gripping her hips, matching her pace.
She shifts after a bit, sliding off and pulling me up. “Turn me around,” she says, getting on her knees, her back arched. Doggy it is. I position myself behind her, hands on her waist, and push in again. It’s deeper now, more intense—she moans softly, pushing back against me, her slim frame trembling just enough to feel real. The sound of skin against skin fills the room, raw and unscripted. I can tell she’s into it—her head tilts back, her fingers clutch the sheets. “Harder,” she breathes, and I oblige, losing myself in the heat of it.
It builds fast. My hands tighten on her, my breath ragged. She glances over her shoulder, eyes half-lidded, and that’s what does it—knowing she’s feeling it too. I groan, the tension snapping, and I finish inside her, the condom catching it all. It’s a rush, sharp and overwhelming, leaving me dizzy. She stays still for a second, letting me ride it out, then eases forward, collapsing onto her stomach with a satisfied sigh. “Fuck, that was good,” she mutters, half-laughing, her voice muffled by the pillow.
I catch my breath, lying beside her. She rolls onto her side, props her head on her hand, and smirks. “You’re not bad, you know.” There’s a flicker of sensitivity in her eyes, like she means it, but she plays it off. Time’s almost up. She sits up, stretches, and grabs her dress. “Shower’s there if you want it,” she says, nodding toward the bathroom. I shake my head, still buzzing, and start pulling my clothes back on. She walks me to the door, leans in for a quick kiss—soft, almost sweet—and says, “Text me if you’re around again.” Then I’m out, back into the humid night, the sound of her voice still ech
Age : 21
Location : brisbane
Body : slim
Bust : c cup
Damage ：30 min $150
Website : https://www.escortsandbabes.com.au/Profile/QLD/Brisbane/Independent/jsica/
It’s a humid Tuesday evening in Brisbane, the kind where the air sticks to your skin. I’d been scrolling through an escort site for a while, restless, when I came across Jessica’s profile. Twenty-one, slim, C-cup, warm, a little wild, intelligent—her description hooked me. The price was listed: $150 for 30 minutes. Fair enough. I shot her a text, keeping it simple: “Hey, Jessica, booking tonight? 8 PM okay?” She replied within minutes and said yes.
when I knock on her door, Jessica’s standing there, barefoot, in a black slip dress that clings just enough to her slim frame. Her hair’s loose, dark, brushing her shoulders. “Hey,” she says, smiling, her voice warm but with a spark of mischief. “Come in.”
The apartment’s small but tidy—dim lights, a couch, a faint scent of vanilla. I hand her the cash, and she tucks it into a drawer without counting, like it’s routine. “Drink?” she offers, leaning against the counter. I shake my head, too wired to play it cool. She steps closer, her eyes locking on mine, and runs a finger lightly down my arm. “Nervous?” she teases, her lips curling. “Don’t be. I’ll take care of you.” Her touch is soft but deliberate, and my pulse kicks up.
She leads me to the bedroom, a mattress on a low frame, sheets rumpled but clean. She’s close now, her body brushing mine as she tugs at my shirt. “Let’s get this off,” she murmurs, her breath warm against my neck. I pull it over my head, and she presses herself against me, her hands sliding up my chest. “You’re cute when you’re quiet,” she says, her tone playful, and then she kisses me—slow at first, then deeper, her tongue flicking against mine. There’s a wild edge to it, like she’s testing me, and I’m already losing myself in her warmth.
She steps back, slips the dress off in one smooth motion, and stands there in black lace. Slim, toned, her C-cup breasts framed just right. “Lie down,” she says, nudging me toward the bed. I do, and she climbs on top, straddling my hips. Her hands work my jeans open, and she grins as she feels me through the fabric. “Someone’s ready,” she whispers, grinding against me just enough to make my breath catch. She leans down, her hair brushing my face, and kisses my jaw, my collarbone, her lips soft but insistent.
Things heat up fast. She slides off me, tugs my jeans down, and then she’s back, peeling off her own underwear. “Condom,” she says, grabbing one from the nightstand, tearing it open with her teeth. She rolls it on me, her fingers quick and sure, and then she’s guiding me inside her. We start with her on top, cowgirl style, her hips rocking slow and steady. The rhythm’s hypnotic—her breathing mixes with these little gasps, and I can feel her tightening around me. “You like that?” she asks, her voice husky, leaning forward so her chest brushes mine. I nod, gripping her hips, matching her pace.
She shifts after a bit, sliding off and pulling me up. “Turn me around,” she says, getting on her knees, her back arched. Doggy it is. I position myself behind her, hands on her waist, and push in again. It’s deeper now, more intense—she moans softly, pushing back against me, her slim frame trembling just enough to feel real. The sound of skin against skin fills the room, raw and unscripted. I can tell she’s into it—her head tilts back, her fingers clutch the sheets. “Harder,” she breathes, and I oblige, losing myself in the heat of it.
It builds fast. My hands tighten on her, my breath ragged. She glances over her shoulder, eyes half-lidded, and that’s what does it—knowing she’s feeling it too. I groan, the tension snapping, and I finish inside her, the condom catching it all. It’s a rush, sharp and overwhelming, leaving me dizzy. She stays still for a second, letting me ride it out, then eases forward, collapsing onto her stomach with a satisfied sigh. “Fuck, that was good,” she mutters, half-laughing, her voice muffled by the pillow.
I catch my breath, lying beside her. She rolls onto her side, props her head on her hand, and smirks. “You’re not bad, you know.” There’s a flicker of sensitivity in her eyes, like she means it, but she plays it off. Time’s almost up. She sits up, stretches, and grabs her dress. “Shower’s there if you want it,” she says, nodding toward the bathroom. I shake my head, still buzzing, and start pulling my clothes back on. She walks me to the door, leans in for a quick kiss—soft, almost sweet—and says, “Text me if you’re around again.” Then I’m out, back into the humid night, the sound of her voice still ech