Role-play with escort girl is the most and foremost dream of every sane man. Literally, everyone dreams of having a hot game with such a pussycat, whose purity yet desirability thrills. The combination of lustful charm, which is inherent to this image, and so mature body, flushing with powerful desire is what really attracts. The image proposed by this girl of 18 years old allures above all limits, as she seduces at the very beginning and keeps doing it to the end when a man is completely satisfied. And so she is too. The hotness in the blood raises three-fold when having sex with such a remarkably dressed pupil-style escort girl – compared to the ordinary sexuality.
My name’s Kristine, I work as one of the girls of 18 years and over in the escort model agency of Turkey. I have a friend, 24-years old rich guy named Mark. He drives a fancy sports car. His blood is hot, the same as mine and we often have fights because of controversy in our outlooks on things and our hot tempers.
Once, he was driving and I was sitting in his car on the streets of Istanbul. Some dude drove by on another fancy sports car (I don’t differentiate between their models, all I know it was expensive). I lowered the side glass and smiled at him. He spotted this and started giving me the backward reaction consisting of kissing the air, flirting, eye contact, and tongue movements. He also roared the car engine while we were standing.
He nailed me down to the wall and hammered my pussy. He held my hands with his hands so I couldn’t move and penetrated me with a power and persistence of a jackhammer. When he took his hands from mine and grabbed my ass halves, his power increased and every his strong jerk was comparable to a sledgehammer. Extra hard, on the verge of pain, he did me, a young adult escort girl, in his apartment. When he has had enough, he thrown me on the bed without any word, put on the left side, and bent me over to raise my legs up. Now my ass was the easy prey and he entered pussy, leaned his mass over me, and continued his hammering. I felt like he had a never-ending energy he scooped from thin air.
“In pursue of a bike, best guess, it is Yamaha, the registration number is …” I heard the words of the police officer he screamed on a portable radio to an operator. The police car with two officers was chasing us now for several miles already in this rural asphalt road in Turkey.
My Yamaha was fast but so the police car was too. I was flying ahead trying to lose them in about 130-150 km/hour. Hard to breathe in the helmet. My friend was on another bike a little bit back after me and we were doing this chase that the police forced us to do. Now we had no other chance but to lose them. I don’t want to go to jail.