Bunnies and Buddies

Good evening, and greetings from Aberdeen where I landed today after a long and tortuous journey. My drive was marred by thick fog, thick truckers and most bizarrely, huge numbers of bunnies bouncing about. I would have thought that come the cold weather they would go to ground but on the verges of the A90 tonight they were plentiful. I've only hit one bunny in my time, which given the amount of time I spend on the road is quite remarkable. To be fair, it was the most stupid bunny ever to grace the earth.

I was on my way home from an outcall late at night when I spied said bunny by the side of the road. It appeared to have noticed my car approaching and so began hopping towards the ditch and away from my car. Having slowed down, I was relieved and so went back on the accelerator. Without warning, it turned around and hopped at great speed back towards my car and under my wheel. To say I was gutted was an understatement. I braked hard and thought for a moment about what I would do if it wasn't truly dead. Having decided I couldn't bear to see it suffer I decided that I would have to reverse over it. With a heavy heart I looked in my rear view mirror and there bathed in the red light of my brakes was a VERY squashed bunny. It resembled a scene of carnage with the red light for added effect. It was as dead as dead gets but that didn't make me feel any better. :(

Ahem.

Aside from that, my recent post about the buddy system got me thinking about the newbies I have encountered over the years. I guess one of the first was my babysitter in my former home town. I knew it was about to become common knowledge that I was an escort so I sat her down one night.

"I have something to tell you. You know that program that we both love, 'Confessions of a Call Girl' ? Well, that's what I do, I'm an escort."

"Heh, I knew that."

"What ? Why didn't you say ?"

"Well, there was still 5% of me that thought I could be wrong, but when half of your bookshelf consists of memoirs of an escort I had an idea. What did it for me is the night you came home and paid me in English twenties which smelt of 'Kouros'."

Hmmm, I suppose that will do it all right.

With time, she decided she'd like to become an escort too, and I was in a blind panic. I'm good friends with her mother too and really didn't want to be held responsible if anything went mammaries skywards. In the end the decision was taken out of my hands. One Sunday morning after I limped home from an overnight booking, she declared loudly "Right, I've decided. Escorting is definitely for me, but I have to fancy them mind." After I got it through to her that you cannot pick and choose your clients based on looks, the subject was dropped. Phew.

Perhaps I should have shared with her my recent encounter in Dundee. I met a man who was utterly charming and had booked for an hour. Round one was absolutely fine and went as you would expect. For Round Two, he asked if he could come on my assets contained within my La Senza bra. But then came the clincher ; " Can you lick my balls whilst I make myself come ?"

I was still wondering how I was going to make that happen, ( maybe me lying on my side ? ) when he launched himself upon me in reverse, so that one buttock fitted neatly into each eye socket. I was temporarily shocked and also asphyxiated, but that didn't seem to deter him. When he finally reached his golden goal and got off me I was temporarily blinded and was seeing white spots.

"Babes that was amazing."

No, what was amazing was that my teeth were in such close proximity to his boy bits without having made contact.

Try explaining that level of patience to a newbie. God knows I try.

Nite,

LL xx