West Sac incalls, plus outcalls—hit me, usually faster there. I’m not going to pretend it’s anything soft; curves that kill and a body you can’t stop grabbing, yeah. I don’t just give head—full service, GFE, full contact, full sin, the kind you don’t want to date but you do want to lose yourself in. Deep, sloppy, no gag… all love, tell your legs shake. Thick thighs ready to wrap around your waist, and if you’re looking at that pretty face, I’m noticing it too.
Anyway, I’ll say it straight: I do best fucking head. Which, okay, it’s the whole vibe—bites, bury yourself in, spill out your hands, and then it just keeps going. Also, full contact means you’re not guessing what’s happening.
Tomorrow’s my first day at school—my Ho clock is about to stop ticking, get it before the clock runs out. Wait—my words got messy there, but yeah, that timing matters. I’m usually the same person even when I’m typing this tired.
Usually if you call—54… that’s the one. I check that one less, which means it feels more direct. Then you’re stuck thinking about it again, like you already knew you would.
