City: Brisbane Change
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0485667005 58yo black lace with hips 2 match n mouth ready 2 show you why, Chermside –:
Listing ID: 11368931
Hello dears, I'm Jessy. 58 years young, red lipstick on the go n the fire still burnin' under all this black lace. Let me introduce me proper.
I was the good girl, the one that did it right — school, the teaching job, the wedding, the whole bloody script. I spent 30 years as the strict one in the classroom, red pen behind me ear, 'sit up straight, chew with ur mouth closed, hands where I can see 'em.' I kept 25 little humans in line n I never once lost my cool. Or so I thought. My last man was an accountant, n I was married 2 a cold bed n a man who cared more about his ledgers than about me. He'd come home, zonk out, snore like a lawnmower. Thirty years, I could set me watch by it. We split a few years back, no drama, just 2 people who quietly stopped matchin'.
Now I'm on me own in a proper place, proper bed, wine fridge, n absolutely nobody 2 judge me. N I'll tell u, once the silence moves in u start hearin' what u've been keepin' quiet for decades. The wantin'. The needin'. N I ain't 2 quiet it no more.
· · ·
Here's me, no filters. 58 n the hips 2 match, fit as a fiddle — I've been 2 the gym since last winter, walk every mornin', n I still do a lil kitchen dance when I think no one's watchin' (the dog can't keep a secret 2 save its life). No filler anywhere, no work done, the 2 big soft pillows up top are all natural, they just grew n I ain't ashamed of 'em. They spill right over the black lace like they want 2 be seen. The red glasses are for readin' (n lookin' fierce). The red lips are for kissin'. N what's under the black lace is strictly for u 2 find out. Me hair still's got colour in it, a touch of Blonde, a touch of rebellion.
· · ·
A lil story, since u deserve one. Last winter a mate dragged me 2 a pub quiz I hated. I was in the corner with me glass of red, marking the answers like I still had a class 2 teach. This bloke at the next table — 28, sunburnt, all biceps, looked like he'd rather be anywhere else — kept 'accidentally' glancing over. By the 4th question he was leaning in askin' if I was 'sure' 'bout the answer, by the 5th he was blushing, n by the time the quiz was over the red pen had retired for the night. We ended up at my place. Let's just say my kitchen bench has seen things n the ice in the drinks tray didn't last the evening. He left before I could get his name. I still think about it.
· · ·
That's me. I'm not shy, I'm not fussy, I'm not pretendin' I'm 25. I'm 58 with the hips 2 match n a streak that will embarrass u. I like 2 start slow n warm — all soft, whisperin' in ur ear, glasses still on, lipstick smudin' all over ur neck. Then I climb up, legs wrapped round ur waist, n I ride u till the bed frame's singin' n the neighbours are wonderin' what the hell I'm listenin' 2. I ain't above gettin' my mouth on u either — I've had 30 years of practice keepin' a certain accountant's memory at bay.
N here's the bit u really wanna know, so I'll just say it. I've gone past the 'little rubber' stage of life. I'm 58, well past the window where I'd need birth control — me doctor says the chances are slim n I ain't wastin' my breath worryin'. So skip the latex, leave the sheath in the drawer. Skin on skin, the real deal. U can empty ur tank, paint me, leave it deep n wherever it lands I ain't complainin'. Sheets get washed, we wipe it up together, no drama.
N if u want the back door, I'm a fan. I've got 2 holes that both deserve a proper visit, n my back one's been waited on long enough. I'll get it open for u, slow, with a lil lube n no rushin' — I like the way u look when u find out how deep I'll take it.
I've got me preferences n I'll tell u exactly what I'm up for over text — I'm honest, no games, no surprises at the door. Be polite, tell me a bit about urself n what u're after, n I'll get back 2 u as fast as I can. If u're shy, that's fine, I've got plenty of patience — 30 years of it.
· · ·
N look — I rarely pick up the phone 'cause me hands are usually busy... u know what for. So text me on the number in me profile, that's the fast way. I'll reply the moment I ain't got a cock in me mouth or a tongue deep in me snatch. Honestly? That happens rarer than u'd think. N head's up — I don't usually check me SecretHostess messages, so a text is really the only way.
· · ·
Now the boring bits, 'cause I like u 2 know where we stand. Me rates r reasonable, I ain't tryin' 2 get rich. I'm just after a good time, me bills paid n the odd lil treat for myself. U chip in n I'll make sure u leave with the best nut of ur life. Fair trade. Cash is always welcome, it's king n I won't lie. Or PAYID — instant only, if it's delayed or still pending I ain't countin' it, sorry. I'll keep me fees, timings n all the details 2 a text so this page stays clean.
-- Jessy
I was the good girl, the one that did it right — school, the teaching job, the wedding, the whole bloody script. I spent 30 years as the strict one in the classroom, red pen behind me ear, 'sit up straight, chew with ur mouth closed, hands where I can see 'em.' I kept 25 little humans in line n I never once lost my cool. Or so I thought. My last man was an accountant, n I was married 2 a cold bed n a man who cared more about his ledgers than about me. He'd come home, zonk out, snore like a lawnmower. Thirty years, I could set me watch by it. We split a few years back, no drama, just 2 people who quietly stopped matchin'.
Now I'm on me own in a proper place, proper bed, wine fridge, n absolutely nobody 2 judge me. N I'll tell u, once the silence moves in u start hearin' what u've been keepin' quiet for decades. The wantin'. The needin'. N I ain't 2 quiet it no more.
· · ·
Here's me, no filters. 58 n the hips 2 match, fit as a fiddle — I've been 2 the gym since last winter, walk every mornin', n I still do a lil kitchen dance when I think no one's watchin' (the dog can't keep a secret 2 save its life). No filler anywhere, no work done, the 2 big soft pillows up top are all natural, they just grew n I ain't ashamed of 'em. They spill right over the black lace like they want 2 be seen. The red glasses are for readin' (n lookin' fierce). The red lips are for kissin'. N what's under the black lace is strictly for u 2 find out. Me hair still's got colour in it, a touch of Blonde, a touch of rebellion.
· · ·
A lil story, since u deserve one. Last winter a mate dragged me 2 a pub quiz I hated. I was in the corner with me glass of red, marking the answers like I still had a class 2 teach. This bloke at the next table — 28, sunburnt, all biceps, looked like he'd rather be anywhere else — kept 'accidentally' glancing over. By the 4th question he was leaning in askin' if I was 'sure' 'bout the answer, by the 5th he was blushing, n by the time the quiz was over the red pen had retired for the night. We ended up at my place. Let's just say my kitchen bench has seen things n the ice in the drinks tray didn't last the evening. He left before I could get his name. I still think about it.
· · ·
That's me. I'm not shy, I'm not fussy, I'm not pretendin' I'm 25. I'm 58 with the hips 2 match n a streak that will embarrass u. I like 2 start slow n warm — all soft, whisperin' in ur ear, glasses still on, lipstick smudin' all over ur neck. Then I climb up, legs wrapped round ur waist, n I ride u till the bed frame's singin' n the neighbours are wonderin' what the hell I'm listenin' 2. I ain't above gettin' my mouth on u either — I've had 30 years of practice keepin' a certain accountant's memory at bay.
N here's the bit u really wanna know, so I'll just say it. I've gone past the 'little rubber' stage of life. I'm 58, well past the window where I'd need birth control — me doctor says the chances are slim n I ain't wastin' my breath worryin'. So skip the latex, leave the sheath in the drawer. Skin on skin, the real deal. U can empty ur tank, paint me, leave it deep n wherever it lands I ain't complainin'. Sheets get washed, we wipe it up together, no drama.
N if u want the back door, I'm a fan. I've got 2 holes that both deserve a proper visit, n my back one's been waited on long enough. I'll get it open for u, slow, with a lil lube n no rushin' — I like the way u look when u find out how deep I'll take it.
I've got me preferences n I'll tell u exactly what I'm up for over text — I'm honest, no games, no surprises at the door. Be polite, tell me a bit about urself n what u're after, n I'll get back 2 u as fast as I can. If u're shy, that's fine, I've got plenty of patience — 30 years of it.
· · ·
N look — I rarely pick up the phone 'cause me hands are usually busy... u know what for. So text me on the number in me profile, that's the fast way. I'll reply the moment I ain't got a cock in me mouth or a tongue deep in me snatch. Honestly? That happens rarer than u'd think. N head's up — I don't usually check me SecretHostess messages, so a text is really the only way.
· · ·
Now the boring bits, 'cause I like u 2 know where we stand. Me rates r reasonable, I ain't tryin' 2 get rich. I'm just after a good time, me bills paid n the odd lil treat for myself. U chip in n I'll make sure u leave with the best nut of ur life. Fair trade. Cash is always welcome, it's king n I won't lie. Or PAYID — instant only, if it's delayed or still pending I ain't countin' it, sorry. I'll keep me fees, timings n all the details 2 a text so this page stays clean.
-- Jessy
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