NAUGHTY LADY FROM SHADY LANE OVERTURNS BIASES

Change of Mind as a Sex Slice of Surprise Is Curved out of the Old West
By $2.00 Bob

 SHADY LADY RANCHLegal Licensed Brothel
Off US Route 95 @ Scottie’s Junction
(150 miles North of Las Vegas &
31 Miles North of Beatty – right side going North)
North Amargos Valley NV
775-553-9100
  
The legal and licensed brothels sprinkled throughout the expanse of Nevada usually impresses me naught. The ones closest to Reno and Las Vegas come across, to me at least, as consummate rip-offs. The girls throw me prices like $1,000 for the “party” and follow with the fact that I should negotiate, “If you want something less.” The starting price that the girl opens the conversation with makes a meaningful comeback from me impossible. My chutzpah shies of pushing someone from $1,000 down to $200. I fear for $200 the girls just blow into the customer’s ear. Nevertheless, I have done some sessions chiseled down to $350 and I think, disappointedly so, that the girl only gave me my 35% worth.On the other hand, I find the brothels that stretch across Nevada’s northern Interstate filled with beefy girls. Although these truck stops catering to the eighteen wheeler cowboys have more reasonable prices, the girls may be, and usually are, a little stockier and somewhat chunkier. Well, Shady Lady Ranch has helped to reshape my opinion with respect to licensed rental bedrooms.

As noted above, the location falls within a two and a half hour high-speed drive through the high desert. Very few vehicles use this two-lane US 95 route, and, except for the possibility of falling asleep, I think a hundred miles per hour comes easily to a guy used to driving around Manhattan. Cars with a radar detector and a keen awareness give the state sheriffs a hard time in the cops riding herd on the 70 mph winding asphalt. In fact, Beatty NV, a cool little town that US 95 runs through and forces a slow-down to forty five miles per hour, should be used as the signpost to back off the accelerator even after passing through, because only 30 miles of tumbleweed and burros remain and zooming by the tiny little sign and entrance to Shady Lady means a “did I pass it or not” doubt until an awkward K-turn to double back can be executed.

The area’s economy develops through the mines located in the hills and mountains surrounding the brothel with some horse ranching thrown in. Herds of mustangs show up less frequently as the years pass by and this has finished off another industry. Other than that, the occasional cars being overtaken on the two-lane roads at over a hundred miles per hour, and the sporadic trucks, belong to the traveling guests of the state.
The neat double trailer residence sits back about a half mile from US 95, at the end of a bumpy snaking road that pretty much jars my red rented T-Bird until my head almost busts through the canvass top. The hard to spot egress from the highway and access to the land brings me to a lattice-like fence, where other vehicles, tied and parked at the horse bar, await their drivers to finish up their sex sessions. A country acre rests within an infinite amount of acres, demarcating the brothel and its surrounding yard from the wilderness. A wishing well rests by the curving pathway that leads to the filigreed front porch and a sign, by the door, warning that the bathroom is not a public affair. A ring on the bell brings to me the manager to the door, along with a gracious and expansive western invitation to step inside. This ball of country friendliness introduces herself as Joyce.
The foyer/waiting area, spotless like the rest of the premises, glistens with a Provincial French attitude and on this carpeted floor the manager offers me the prices and polices of the house. Additionally, for those so interested like myself, she gives a tour of the various bedrooms that house no clients at the time. Hot Jacuzzis, in-room showers, French décor mini-suites fill the interior of the raised structure and the desert quietness bathes the visitor from the Northeastern part of the US, like myself, in its unfamiliar quietness. The pureness of the sky, the baroness of the desert, and the rural attitude of the girl bring on an almost poetical waxing and waning in my mind and the session begins with a focus of two people having pure sex: Diana and myself. Still, before the session begins, other chores require tending. Sunday carries this slice of time and two girls, for this late afternoon encounter, stand at the readiness for availability. I select Diana and her hundred twenty-five pound slim body. She fluffs her long straight hair in a cute fashion as we discuss the weather, the clear skies and the distance from Las Vegas to Shady Lady. I listen to Diana’s soft voice and soft commands as we travel down the hallway to the room where I am to know her better. 

Once in the room, where I suck in her blemish free bare legs and modest black pumps as she sits in a chair facing the bed where I sit, I hear the prices as already studied by me in the yellow brochure I picked up some place in Vegas. One hour of basic service from Diana equals $200 from me. Basic services include a half-and-half session and any role-playing, BDSM, various lunches, etc., cost additional. Of course, these disciplines also cost more in NYC and LA. However, the bundling of the price in these cities, and not using a menu, when hearing of these extras many of us take for granted, makes the financial requirements for extras easier to take for city guys like me.

At any rate, after settling on the half and half, I remove my clothes and I use the room’s shower to freshen up. On leaving the rain locker and coming back in to the main part of the suite, Diana extends her hand to me and I remove the towel from her clutches. The terry cloth drops on the floor and as we both bend to retrieve it, our heads bump like goats and for the first time we get less serious and begin smiling at each other as we profusely apologize. “I’m dearly sorry my goddess, can you forgive me for disrespecting your shiny dark tresses,” I mock. 
“You didn’t say you want a humiliation party,” Diana mocks back, “because that costs at least one thousand dollars.”
“One thousand dollars? One thousand dollars! How ‘bout if I give you that T-Bird out there?”

“No,” she answers.

“What ‘bout if I sign my house over to you? That means you have the car, the house… and I throw in my first born?”
Diana, still dressed, moves in close to me. I feel her dress brush my front and her shoes touch my bare feet. She lifts her face to mine, places her hand on the back of my neck and looks deeply into my eyes. Her full lips brush mine and her voice breathes across my nose saying, “Let’s now get serious. I don’t want all that from you, but can I have your soul. I only want you soul for an hour, however, I do want it. You give me that and I can make you very, very happy.”

Her hand lightly holds my penis and I moan like an old Frank Sinatra song, “Yes. Why not take all of me?”

“Don’t worry. Your body comes along as soon as I get your soul,” she follows. “Now, lie down on the bed while I undress. You watch me.”
Diana removes her shoes in a deliberate matter, holding the instep up toward me. I crane my neck forward to get my lips closer, and she turns each away from me and tosses each on the floor. “Hmmm! It looks like things are more complicated than first meets my eye,” she offers.

She pulls the shoulders of her dress aside, off her own shoulders, and lets the garment drop to the floor. Diana stands in front of me wearing pink panties, a pink bra and a pink lip smile. “OK. Roll over and get on all fours. Let’s play.”

I comply and follow her instructions to place my knees and elbows close to the edge of the bed. The slim girl removes her undergarments and sits by my shins, reaches one hand around under me and strokes my penis, and employs the fingers on her other hand to excruciatingly caress my balls, my crotch and the area between my legs. “Tell me your fantasy,” she orders. “Tell me anything. Come on. If you could have me do anything in the world to you, what would you ask for?”

“I wanna cum,” I lamely reply.

“That’s gonna happen, but com’n,” she protests with a minor trace of disappointment in her voice. “You can be more creative than that.”
Diana’s insistent cock stroking and crotch scratching, with her exciting words, propels me to erotic heights. I blurt out, “I want to eat out your pussy and ass-hole and then French kiss you while you fuck me ‘til I cum.”

“Now we’re getting some where. That’s a good start. Can you feel what my finger is doing in your butt?”

The princess of pleasure lightly tickles the anal area of my ass, which stirs a kaleidoscope of fascinating sensations throughout my head. “Anything else in mind, if you have a mind left?” she asks.

“Yes. Please. I want you to fuck me up the ass. Squeeze my prostate, fist my ass-hole and rape my insides. I need it, I need it.”

“I know you need it. But, you’re not going to get it. Not yet. You need something else. Turn over and lie on your back.”

I do so and Diana places her knees inside my legs, she sits back on her legs and bends her torso over to where her lips can hover inches above my penis. The warmth of her breath engulfs my glans, before she changes the temperature to a more chilly degree by blowing on the same spot. Her one tiny hand grasps the base of my shaft while the other returns to my anus and crotch, to take up its previous position when I balanced on all fours.
Diana’s eyes lift to match my own and she asks, “Anything I can do for you?”

“Please, suck me off. I need a blowjob bad. I gotta cum.”

“Yeah, baby. I know, but beg me. Show me I own your soul, since I know I have your body.”

This Cartesian philosophy starts taking its toll on me. Briefly, I think of Cole Porter’s “Body and Soul” before I start my begging. “God, I need to cum. Please, please, please! I’ll do anything to cum. Suck me off, ream my ass-hole and snowball me, but make me cum, I beg.”

“Yeah. OK. Here. But, tell me what you’re feeling.”

She starts the sucking and fingering; I moan.

“I said, ‘tell me what you’re feeling’.”

I can’t think of words to describe intangible emotions, so I say, “My prostate is swelling and I feel the orgasm someplace in my balls, and it’s cumming, cumming.”

Diana stops. If you cum, then what about me? I want you to fuck me.”

We change our positions on the bed and this time my knees rest between Diana’s. She wraps her arms around my neck, pulls her knees up along my sides, and locks her ankles after I enter her. “That’s good. Deeper, slower, faster, rest a while, hold me,” come Diana’s instructions as she scripts out my coming orgasm.

She continues throwing my fantasies around my mind, saying, “The next time I want you to eat my ass and pussy and I want to rape you. I want you to cum for me over and over again. Cum for me now. Com’n, let it go. Let it go. Pray to god to let it go.”

I do pray to god. Loud and clear I say, “Oh god. God. God. I’mmmmm cummmmin. Oh god!”

After the blast, I return to some normalcy and I flop off Diana like a shot burro to rest. She allows me a hug before rising from the bed and picking up her clothes to take to the shower. When she returns, she indicates my time-slot to shower as did she, and I do so. I pass her a $20 tip (which she seems not to have expected) and we have a last hug, a last kiss, and a first goodbye.

Editor’s Note: Shady Lady Ranch remains open for business on a 24/7 basis. Major credit cards find welcome. A visit here appears to be very worth the extra time in driving past the Pahrump places when coming from Las Vegas. Normally, three girls await the clients. Shady Lady Ranch, one of the newer legal licensed brothels brings life to the residents surrounding Death Valley. www.shadyladyranch.starband.net