Field Report on Sonja

 Brothel: Dovetail Ranch

Reporter: Rand McNally
Date Received: February 24, 2012
Date of Party: February 22, 2012

“I’m sorry,” I told Sonja. “I’m babbling. But you’re so much more than I expected.”

Sonja and I were sitting on the couch in the Dovetail bar. Despite our only having met minutes previously, she had casually put her foot between my legs. I figured this was because she shared my arousal at meeting another SIN correspondent who knew the difference between ‘your’ and ‘you’re.’

“I knew you were gorgeous,” I said nervously. “But you’re so, well, so girly. Not that I didn’t think you weren’t girly. Hell, I’m babbling again.”Sonja just smiled and pressed her foot into my groin. It was at this point that I noticed Sonja’s short dress had ridden up to her hips and that she was wearing nothing underneath.

Despite these distractions we enjoyed an extended conversation, including anecdotes of her adult film work, which verified my suspicion that actors have a hard time keeping from laughing when working on a production titled “ A Woman’s Asshole Needs Attention, Too.” Sonja also shared an amusing tale about her prostitution debut at Bella’s, where, assuming that in a brothel nudity was the norm, she strolled into the bar to turn in the money from her first booking completely naked.

At length, we adjourned to her bedroom where we quickly agreed on a price I found commensurate with going rates at Elko County houses. Sonja prefers not to negotiate for time, but she was extremely generous with the time she spent with me both before and after our intimacy, as well as post coital cuddle time, a rarity in an industry where the norm is, “get ‘em off and get ‘em out.” And when considering total cost, one has to factor in the business with no panties and the foot in my crotch.

Sonja looks exactly like her pictures, which abound; on the Dovetail website, her own website, and are liberally sprinkled through her SIN board posts. All of her anatomy is original factory equipment, and is in excellent working order. Trust me on this—I checked. As she undressed--a perfunctory process, since she hadn’t bothered with panties--my only disappointment was that since she’s possibly the most nekkid woman on the SIN board, seeing her in the altogether for the first time was pretty much déjà vu—or perhaps déjà view. Her only hardware is earrings; her only tattoo a miniscule design on her right hip. Speaking of hips, I should add that Sonja’s derriere was sculpted in heaven. The only surprise was psychological. Sonja’s larger than life internet presence had led me to imagine her as a tall woman, but she’s a few inches shorter than my average height. She describes herself as only a moderate drinker. Smoking wasn’t a problem for us—since it was our first time together we took things slow.

Sonja is one of those treasures who is old enough to be in the full bloom of her sexuality, but having only turned out a year ago, she still does her customers as if they were boyfriends. At least that’s how she did me. Afterwards, she snuggled against me and whispered sweet nothings in my ear. As a writer, Sonja’s command of sweet nothings equals her physical command of sweet somethings. She’s the only provider who ever made this quintessential cheapskate think about extending the party just to prolong the cuddle time. In the end my parsimony overcame my prurience—but as Wellington said about Waterloo, it was a damn close run thing.

Something delightfully spooky occurred during our tryst—on occasion Sonja seemed to intuit what turned me on, moving her body into this or that intimate position, and murmuring this or that salacious phrase without being cued. When I mentioned this afterwrds she smiled and said, ‘chemistry.’ Personally I think it was witchcraft, but I’m not complaining.

Sonja mentioned that she’s at a point in her life where her finances allow her to pick and choose her pay-for-playmates. I’m flattered that I made her list—and she’s certainly on my list of ladies I gotta see again. 

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