I haven't read any of these reviews, so I comment as a lady that could understand the circumstances during which a punt would be quite lack-lustre with a lady that is otherwise considered good at her job.
There's nothing worse than a punter who expects you to be ready to give him a dream experience with just 10 minutes notice or less.
The ladies providing the service are human, as is also the client. There are expectations all around.
For the lady, it is nice to be able to prepare your mind for a personality, not a face, not another empty 30 minute encounter. Forget about rapport from the
www.ifancyashaglastminute.com guys. A man who books last minute cannot have high expectations and if he does, more fool him. This is the Ryan Air of punting. And we all know what we think of that operation.
He's shown little or no consideration for how he wants to get his pleasure. Chances are that if he planned it last minute, he's in a rush. Assuming he did shower that morning, he has pissed 2 or 3 times, allowing for a good healthy bladder. If he isn't circumcised and merely given his willy a shake afterwards, then his foreskin is fermenting the by-products of this essential human function over the hours leading to his last minute punt;, possibly done a poo, and quite certainly emitted a couple of silent but deadly farts. Farts have very long shadows. Even without foreskin, the pubes and skin are retaining a very non-arousing scent a.k.a stench. But I digress!
Then Mr Brad Pitt (not) arrives at the premises, and declines the suggestion to shower because "I already 'ad a shower". If longer than 60 minutes has passed since the aforementioned shower ... please just take the fucking towel and have at least a quick wash ... with soap!
But back to the geezer who thinks he smells of roses. Or assumes that his €100 euros are scented enough to mask his short-comings. He he drops his pants and the lady then has an exercise in non-auto erotic asphyxiation combined with lethal gassing. But the poor cow is expected to take such within her stride and still make the earth move. It very nearly does, the earth, I mean, when she almost pukes.
Joe Bloggs, lying there like his €100 entitles him to be treated like a king even when he's behaving like the most ignorant of tramps, then feels peaved that the service seems distant. Of course it's distant, the poor lady is achieving an out of body experience in order to survive and give him the grand-daddy of all blow-jobs.
Okay, this is an extreme example, but the kind that most ladies working in Ireland can expect to counter 2 to 3 times each day. From the kind of guy who rushes in off the street for a punt that was an after-thought.
There are things that you can do last minute. The afore mentioned pissing and shitting being two good examples. No planning required. You get the urge, and look for the nearest receptacle in which to deposit the load you no longer wish to carry.
Oh wait, that sounds very much like a last minute punt ... I'd say food for thought but that would be in extremely bad taste!
xxx
Pru