Casual Sex Partner(s) for Classy Woman - w4mm
Good Afternoon,I am writing on behalf of a Manhattan-based female celebrity for whom I am an assistant to. She is looking for a group of about 5-6 men whom she can keep in an on-call position for sexual favors, such as sensual massage, oral sex, sex, and various other activities. You will be paid when called on to perform a task in addition to a weekly courtesy stipend you will receive for being on call.
If interested, please respond with a PICTUE (preferably one of your face and one nude), and answer the following questions:
1. Age? Height? Weight? Length of penis(erect)?
2. Where are you located?3. What are your hours of availability?
4. What is your occupation?
5. What is your level of sexual experience?
6. Are you disease free? What was the date of your last test?
If interested, we will contact you to arrange a phone and personal interview. If chosen you will be asked to receive testing for AIDS/HIV and STD's (we will cover the cost).Thank You.
So right now you are probably thinking, “Heck! This is one hell of a deal. I get paid to live my life as I do right now and if I’m called to shoot my load, I get paid more! And they said I wouldn’t amount to anything if I dropped out of Elementary school!” So you put on your best Goodwill Green Tag special suit, apply a good dose of Suave Deodorant to your armpits and the bottoms of your feet, because why bother showering until you actually get the job, and attempt to gel down your side burns which coincidentally seem to be forming their own ecosystem, complete with green sprouts, enough dirt to grow a bushel of potatoes and something that lets out a humming sound every now and then.
You show up about 15 late because you hear that is the cool thing to do. After all, you are cool and you want to make sure that your new boss knows it. As you ring the doorbell, you give yourself the best pep talk in the world of pep talks.
“You fuckin’ rock man! ROCK! If they can’t see that right away, whip out your humongo dick and wave it at them just like you waved it at the hunched over little old lady that told you shitting on her doorstep while she was teaching her grandson how to play dominos wasn’t a good idea. The sheer sight of me wiggling my cock at her like I was swinging an overly boiled hotdog sure changed her mind! Let the magic of your dick speak for you!” As you look down at your crotch, you remind it, “Dude, you’re the best!”
Just then, the door opens. You’re expecting Pamela Anderson wearing nothing but a rubber band and scratch-n-sniff sticker. The first thing you see is a set of 3” red stilettos. Your eyes slowly gaze upward to pale, but shapely legs. You reach what appears to be a satin robe that falls just below your new bosses naughty bits. Like a stealthy platypus, you continue devouring the sight before you with your eyes, moving upward to the face but not without noticing two very large and very perky milk machines.
Yes! Here comes the face! Holy shit! It’s Liza Minelli! You say, “Nooooo!” But the Dude in your pants says, “Yessssss!”