Manchester Escort Chanelle Makes A Special Friend

Chanelle Strips For Aimee

Manchester escort Chanelle gets a new college roommate – and starts a very special friendship...                

It had to be a mistake. No way was I supposed to be rooming with this sex bomb of a girl, vest so tight it lifted her breasts almost high enough for her to lick. Normally I’m the centre of attention with my tall, slim figure, but this girl was just offensively pretty. I didn’t know whether to hate her or eat her.

She bumbled into the room, her shoulder bag knocking one of my oldest and dearest teddies off the dresser.

                “Oh, sorry!” she gushed, her long, silky dark hair settling around her head like Medusa’s snakes. I sighed, trying not to let my green eyed monster take over.

                She sank down elegantly on the bed on the other side of the room. Her eyes darted around every inch of the cramped space, scrutinising it, lingering on my collection of erotic literature lined up on my book shelf.

                “I’m Chanelle,” I offered, lying back on the cushions on my bed.

                “Aimee,” she replied, holding her hand out to me.

                “What brings you here?” I asked, admiring her long, manicured nails with their hot red polish.

                “Politics,” she replied. Great, so as well as being very easy on the eyes, she could also boast brains as part of the package. Still, I study literature, so I could easily rival her there. Smiling a little falsely, I opened up my laptop to scour Facebook as Aimee started to unpack her things. I tried not to watch, but human curiosity got the better of me. Of course, I didn’t let her see me looking; I was ever so discreet over the top of my Macbook.

                Jeans folded into the bottom drawer, myriad tiny crop tops hung up, a ridiculous number of bottles filled with expensive creams littered her side of the chest of drawers. On one of my more discreet looks I saw the unmistakeable outline of a vibrator and blushed. Hope she didn’t use that when I was in the room... I eyed the gargantuan outline of it, feeling a stirring between my own legs, although whether it was the thought of me using it, or watching her use it that was getting me damp, I couldn’t be sure.

She glanced at it quickly, and then back at me where I looked back at the screen a little too suddenly, and a small smile played about her lips. She’d obviously seen me looking. Thank God she didn’t say anything. Just put it in her underwear drawer and continued to unpack. A large stack of books on the desk, photo frames up: image after glossy image of multiple guys hugging her intimately. From a second bag she zipped open the end pocket and started pulling out her lingerie, tucking it away neatly in the top drawer – scrap after scrap of lacy, silky, saucy nothingness in all the colours under the sun. Christ, this girl knew how to keep her boyfriends happy...

She soon finished packing and stretched languorously. “If you don’t need the bathroom, I’m going to get a shower”, she yawned, catlike. As she lifted the tiny vest top to reveal those beautiful big breasts, and then unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans, I turned my gaze back to my computer, cheeks on fire, trying to ignore thoughts of that big vibrator tucked away among all those soft, sexy pairs of panties, wondering whether she liked to use it inside her or over that sensitive little bud the way I liked it.

It was getting late; the hypnotic rhythm of water pumping from the shower and thoughts of the stunning brunette underneath it lulled me into a state of horny relaxation. I had my first class of the day tomorrow morning at nine, so I closed down the computer, put my headphones in, turning up the volume and dimmed my lamp. Imagining Aimee in the shower, soaping up her velvet skin and allowing her fingers to linger over her breasts and crotch, my own hand strayed down past my waist, resting only a moment before venturing under the silky fabric of my panties, feeling the wetness that thoughts of Aimee had stirred inside me. What seemed like moments later, I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder and my eyes fluttered open to see Aimee, wet hair lashing the tanned skin of her back and a big, soft towel wrapped loosely around her slim hips. Clouds of steam billowed from the small bathroom behind her and I couldn’t take my eyes off the beads of water making their way down the crease between those full, gravity-defying breasts.

I tried in vain to pull my fingers from between my legs, grasping at the satin coverlet on my bed to hide my shame, but it was no good – she’d seen me playing with myself. She smiled in that feline way of hers, bending down close enough so that little droplets of scented warm water fell from her nipples into my open mouth.

“Aren’t you going to finish?” she asked, her tongue running over her full, pouting lips. “I thought you’d never ask”, I replied hungrily, pulling her down onto me and wondering what other surprises this sexy newcomer might spring on me tonight. I had a feeling this was going to be a very special friendship...

Bisexual Manchester escort Chanelle is available for bookings in the city centre or at Manchester airport. For a night you’ll never forget, book her with Aimee, or another of Chanelle’s many very special friends – but only if you can stand the pace. Always in demand, Chanelle gets booked early, so call 0161 798 6769 to make your fantasies a reality.

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