As luck would have it, this week brought me one of the best encounters, as well as the worst, of my pooning career. A letdown like this truly helps one appreciate terrific or even adequate providers.
I've decided not to depress myself, and make potential enemies, by writing a review. But, with memories still fresh, I offer a partial checklist of things I don’t like in an SP (other pooners may have a different list of what makes an SP disappointing):
1. Talking with me in a bossy, strident voice, bringing up unsexy topics, and mounting a vehement attack on rival providers.
2. Point-blank refusal of my request to turn the lights up a notch (so I can at least verify that she isn’t a transvestite).
3. When I request other business first, insisting on giving me a massage—to which I agree so as to avoid a mood-destroying squabble.
4. Hesitantly taking off her clothes and refusing to cuddle.
5. Refusing to let me touch her kitty or its surroundings (“I don’t even touch myself down there”)—let alone allowing DATY.
6. Not squeezing little jimmy at all without putting on a condom first.
7. Putting a condom over soft, pathetic-looking jimmy and then trying to coax him to wake up with a handjob (this isn’t likely to do much for a “spoiled” brat like mine).
8. Not letting me touch my own cock while also touching—with the other hand—“allowed” parts of her body, like legs or breasts, for fear of getting precum on her skin.
9. Lying there in the near-dark, unsmiling and motionless, and commenting, while I’m frantically trying to get myself hard: “What’s taking you so long?”
10. Demanding, after I get hard, that I immediately wash my hands before putting on the condom, again for fear of “precum.”
11. Sharply commanding me to dispose of wasted condoms right away in a garbage can underneath the massage table.
12. Listlessly, soundlessly, lying there while I pound her in mish.
13. Refusing to let me lift her legs onto my shoulders.
14. Responding to my request to turn around for doggie, “I’d rather not.”
15. Shaking her head when I suggest CG and responding with “naaaahh.”
16. Promising to use the rest of the hour with a massage if I come soon, and when I oblige—after less than 10 minutes—and want to take a quick shower, saying “there isn’t time for both a massage and a shower” (no easy way of verifying this; have to start bringing my own alarm clock).
I understand, and share, the desire of providers to play it safe; but this was the most challenging experience since the start of my whirlwind tour of Vancouver massage spas. Still, I walked away happy I didn’t lose my temper, and I even wrested scraps of perverse pleasure from not letting the lady’s antagonism paralyze me. And a great learning experience it certainly was...
Of course, it’s always arguable that this kind of encounter is the pooner’s fault because he simply didn’t turn the lady’s crank—other pooners’ mileage may be great.
I've decided not to depress myself, and make potential enemies, by writing a review. But, with memories still fresh, I offer a partial checklist of things I don’t like in an SP (other pooners may have a different list of what makes an SP disappointing):
1. Talking with me in a bossy, strident voice, bringing up unsexy topics, and mounting a vehement attack on rival providers.
2. Point-blank refusal of my request to turn the lights up a notch (so I can at least verify that she isn’t a transvestite).
3. When I request other business first, insisting on giving me a massage—to which I agree so as to avoid a mood-destroying squabble.
4. Hesitantly taking off her clothes and refusing to cuddle.
5. Refusing to let me touch her kitty or its surroundings (“I don’t even touch myself down there”)—let alone allowing DATY.
6. Not squeezing little jimmy at all without putting on a condom first.
7. Putting a condom over soft, pathetic-looking jimmy and then trying to coax him to wake up with a handjob (this isn’t likely to do much for a “spoiled” brat like mine).
8. Not letting me touch my own cock while also touching—with the other hand—“allowed” parts of her body, like legs or breasts, for fear of getting precum on her skin.
9. Lying there in the near-dark, unsmiling and motionless, and commenting, while I’m frantically trying to get myself hard: “What’s taking you so long?”
10. Demanding, after I get hard, that I immediately wash my hands before putting on the condom, again for fear of “precum.”
11. Sharply commanding me to dispose of wasted condoms right away in a garbage can underneath the massage table.
12. Listlessly, soundlessly, lying there while I pound her in mish.
13. Refusing to let me lift her legs onto my shoulders.
14. Responding to my request to turn around for doggie, “I’d rather not.”
15. Shaking her head when I suggest CG and responding with “naaaahh.”
16. Promising to use the rest of the hour with a massage if I come soon, and when I oblige—after less than 10 minutes—and want to take a quick shower, saying “there isn’t time for both a massage and a shower” (no easy way of verifying this; have to start bringing my own alarm clock).
I understand, and share, the desire of providers to play it safe; but this was the most challenging experience since the start of my whirlwind tour of Vancouver massage spas. Still, I walked away happy I didn’t lose my temper, and I even wrested scraps of perverse pleasure from not letting the lady’s antagonism paralyze me. And a great learning experience it certainly was...
Of course, it’s always arguable that this kind of encounter is the pooner’s fault because he simply didn’t turn the lady’s crank—other pooners’ mileage may be great.
