Ah, the delightful allure of Jenny—truly the pinnacle of my risky adventures in the world of massages and spicy rendezvous. Let me take you on a journey through my most recent escapade with this enchanting enchantress.
We first crossed paths last autumn and then, like a moth to a flame, I returned in March for another taste of her tantalizing talents. This tale, however, is all about our latest encounter.
Booking was a breeze through their online system. After my initial visit—a massage sprinkled with a hint of BDSM—I decided to turn up the heat and opted for a more intense 90-minute session. Naturally, I couldn’t resist leaving a little note in the “add a note” section, detailing my fantasy of how Jenny should greet me. She had nailed it before, leaving me utterly gobsmacked, and this time was no exception.
Arriving at Jiriho z podebrad, I descended into the lair—a place already well-documented in whispers and stories. Jenny welcomed me at the door, and we waltzed to the room where a cozy prelude chat unfolded on the couch. We discussed my desires, set some boundaries, and then, with a cheeky glint in my eye, I stripped down and headed for a refreshing shower.
Returning with a towel modestly wrapped around my waist, our chemistry ignited quickly. The allure of anticipation was palpable, and soon, I found myself tied to the wall with ropes as Jenny began her captivating performance.
The wall was just the beginning. We moved to the mattress, and she slowly peeled away her attire, piece by tantalizing piece. Here’s a taste of the menu: restrained to the bed, sensory deprivation, face sitting, breast play, and a daring penis plug (which required a little detour to gather options—a note for next time, perhaps). And then there was the delicious torment of edging.
Ah, the art of edging! Jenny proposed trying to prolong the pleasure thirty times, with me signaling when I approached the brink. We succeeded, though I did experience a rather unique non-orgasmic release—a first for me in such a setting. Jenny, with her seasoned expertise, called it a “slave orgasm.” With a harsher mistress, that might’ve been the end, but Jenny, generous as ever, pressed on until I reached that cherished climax.
Post-climax, we basked in gentle caresses and delightful conversation, a soothing comedown from an electrifying experience. A final shower and a bittersweet farewell marked the end of our tryst.
Jenny, as I mentioned, is the best. Of course, such quality comes at a price, but oh, it’s worth every penny. A repeat performance? Absolutely, though moderation is key—too much of even the finest feast can lead to overindulgence.
