Though it's true that my resume reads like I'm front and center in the infamous Who's Who of Slut Rags, I find myself unemployed currently and surviving by selling crap on eBay, unemployment insurance checks (which are about to run out) , and an occasional freelance gig here and there. And so I don't have a lot of money to squander on squacks.
Bearing this in mind, I gave old $ a call to ask for a recommendation as to who might give me the best bang for my bee-iz-uck! And with a chuckle in his voice, Bildo recommended some wacko chick he used to "go out" with who happens to be like 80 years old. At first, I totally busted the guy for being a total loser until he espoused his "any port in a storm ethos" adding that while in her throes, he was actually getting paid and laid what with doing art and internet work on her behalf. Plus he chided me that after experiencing the old bag, I might sing a different tune.
Convinced that I could get off cheap (pun intended) and that this would truly be the experience of a lifetime (if only for the fact that I was about to get blown by a hag much older than I'd ever been with before), I called BLOW JOB BERTHA to hear the voice of my long departed Aunt Rose on the other end of the line.
It was all I could do to not burst out laughing just at the suburban timber of her speech. Bertha sounded like one of the only over-the-hill douchebag housewives of Long Gisland (no typo). Oy vay! And I'm a cracker from the Midwest!
Regardless...we talked at length once she found out I used to be the Editor of several "men's sophisticates." The girl must have dropped like six hundred names during the conversation and essentially, never shut the fuck up to the point where I almost decided not to indulge. But my boner reigned supreme and just an hour later, she was at my do' like a mother fuckin' ho (yo)!
I'd seen her picture and was a little disappointed that she'd lost some weight most of which seemed to come off her tits! Call me crazy but why go on a diet if all you're gonna lose is your juggs? Maybe she didn't realize until it was too late. Or maybe her back was hurting her from carrying around all that weight.
Getting to the good part, Bertha decided a massage would be the relevant foreplay for whatever would come next. And given that the girl stated she wouldn't be watching the clock I figured what the hell! Old age notwithstanding, Bertha can really massage you from head to toe. I was impressed! And then when it came to the flip, I really understood what $ was talking about!
Whoa! Talk about a tireless throat monster. I felt like I was getting raped! Two problems, though. One was minor: She didn't want me touching her head at all while she blew me. That was OK! But when she balked at my pawing her big, saggy juggs, I found that unfair until bam! She pushed me back proclaiming "Watch it disappear" as her face gobbled up every millimeter of HIZZONER!
At some point, I suggested that we do a little boom boom but B-girl wasn't down with the program. "Not tonight, honey! I'm a little tired!" I thought that was strange until after I'd busted a major nut all over my belly (she doesn't like guys coming in her mouth), when Bertha explained she's more of a suck queen than a fuck bunny!
After I was done and cleaned up, I really could have lived without her endless chatter - and was almost happy that I'd paid rather than earned the royal treatment. If I'd met her in a bar, I'd have had to listen to her boring crap all night. This way I could throw her out. What was Charley Sheen's famous line? "You don't pay them for the sex....you pay them to leave!" I couldn't agree more!
Well that's that! I'm not really one of those reviewers so I'm not sure how to wind this up except to say unlike a Lay's potato chip, I don't necessarily need to go back for more. But on the other hand, the old gal really did put out orally. And that coupled with the massage made it a worthwhile experience. Maybe if I score a bundle of money I'll go for a Raquel Welch type. But given the price (150), I was satisfied!
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