I agreed to go to a hotel room last night to live out a ten minute fantasy for a young guy. He'd stood me up once before but this time it seemed totally legit - phone confirmation and details of the hotel and everything. In his photo he looked super, super hot.
We met downstairs and he was stunning. The hotel was also out of this world. I didn't call Bell for a safecall since it was only ten minutes and I felt safe meeting him in this hotel lobby. Gut feeling was beyond saying Hell Yeah. It was saying, I want to fuck him and I'll pay him for it! Probably silly to decide a serial killer can't be rich or goodlooking and charming, right? So I will go back to safecalls in future, never fear. My hormones were raging out of control.
The twist - he only wanted me to kneel before him so he could titty fuck me. Spanish. Nothing more. And he spent the whole time telling me what a goddess I was. He was so stunning I did sneak a quick suck of his cock (which was beautiful) but then I complied with his fantasy and he blew all over me I was out the door in record time, totally turned on and wet, almost panting with wanting more.
I was laughing at myself while walking down the street and trying to make my shirt look less boobalicous and more respectable - while also trying to tuck the cash away. Then my ankle started to roll in my high heels. I tried to stop it but then there was a really horrid buckling sensation and smack - I hit the pavement.
Major humiliation outside this hotel. A lovely couple rushed to help me and I was so so embarrassed after a few minutes of lying on the pavement speechless in pain with my boobs half hanging out I kind of told them I was okay - until I limped around the corner to see horrid muscle all sticking out in the wrong places. There was nothing for it - I had to call an ambulance.
Total embarrassment complete. Being stretchered off the pavement. Cum stains barely hidden under the shirt. Not sure I convinced paramedics of my story about meeting a friend for the movies (um..yes, the cinema is like fifteen minutes away, Sherlock. I am a bad liar in times of stress and pain it turns out)
So..four hours later and a few x-rays and it turns out that falling off the heels has broken some ligaments near my ankle.
They don't teach you these dangers in sex worker school do they?! Ha.
Sean came to pick me up at the hospital and was telling me it's a workers comp claim -if I had insured my sex work. Funny bastard. Cheered me up no end.
I'm now on the couch for a few days at least. Supposed to be on crutches for two weeks but know I won't be bothered. Already am hobbling round.
Worst thing is I can't drive. So no outcalls unless they give me cab fare and they are turned on by cripples.
On the positive side - there has to be fetish money in this - or a use for my nurses outfit.