The mood's right to continue my important research of neighborhood micros...:) One of my pooning goals this year is to explore the dynamics of micros and become totally relaxed availing myself of all their services.

Actually, I'm feeling pretty calm about the whole pre-poon routine: hygienic preparations, dialing the number of a chosen CL ad, a short drive, another call to obtain buzzer and apartment numbers. On the 3rd click this morning I come across Tina's ad: a decent menu for $, at a micro where I haven't been before.

The to-do list in my pooning notebook lists a lady named Angela at the same number. When I try PERB's advanced search function I get the familiar "Sorry—no matches." There seem to be quite a few unreviewed micros (and please, guys, include the last 4 digits of the phone # in your reviews).

When I step inside the apartment, I find myself in the presence of 2 girls. There's somewhat chunky Angela, advertised as "voluptuous" and "gorgeous." I find her, though not gorgeous, certainly doable. And there's a tiny, makeup-free, almost boobless shrimp named Tina.

Even though I asked for Tina on the phone, I'm about to replace her with Angela, when Angela tells me, in a sharply bossy voice, to take off my shoes—even though I already slipped them off by the door! Angela says sorry, but I decide to go with Tina after all.

But we don't get off to the greatest of starts. Tina's phone rings twice in a row, and she yaps away in Cantonese while I undress and plug in the CD player. Stripping naked she reveals a body that's not just petite, it looks so fragile I'm scared of banging her. I imagine, for a lot of pooners Tina would have near-zero erotic appeal. You really have to be a horny bastard like me to want to jump the bones of an elf like that.

Tina becomes really friendly after I give her 5 greens, and when she hears the Teresa Teng songs coming from my CD player, along with my attempts to converse in "guoyu." She tells me she has just gotten up, after going to sleep late because of a 2 AM client—"some Chinese guy from a restaurant."

Tina hails from Guangzhou and has been in Canada for 7 months, 6 of which she spent in Calgary. "Too cold," she says, shivering even from the memory of it. She confirms that Angela and herself are the only girls in this micro. Angela is clearly senior, and when I ask if they get along, Tina sounds unenthusiastic.

We hop into the shower. She washes me front and back, cheerfully talking a mile a minute. She's apologetic about being "too skinny" and says she'll get her breasts enlarged on her next China trip. I'm beginning to find her mildly pretty, in a Guangdong sort-of-way—but then, my sense of "pretty" seems to encompass a wider range of looks than is usual.

I give her stockings, but they've trouble staying put on her scrawny legs. On the bed she bites my nipples briefly and then curls up beside Tantalizer, with her legs closed and the kitty inaccessible. I decide not to force things but just relish her skillful and delightfully eager BBBJ and BLS; I'll get to sample her treasures soon enough.

Tantalizer, rigid now, looks oddly out of proportion in her little mouth. She seems eager to please in a somewhat businesslike way, quite divorced from any arousal on her part.

I play with her decent-sized nipples. She seems to shy away from kissing, and when I contemplate my usual pre-coital DATY, she keeps shielding her bristly-looking snatch with her hand. I decide to forgo this none-too-inviting appetizer and ease my love muscle ever so slowly, gingerly, into her tiny, super-tight pussy.

On cue Tina starts moaning. I don't penetrate very deep, in part because she resists opening her legs wide enough, in part because I don't want to hurt her. After a bit of mish we do variations of CG and ACG that feel nice.

She seems to have gotten over her initial fear of Tantalizer now and, judging from her lively movements, takes pleasure in giving me pleasure. I start whisking her starfish gently, with a lubricated finger, expecting but not encountering protest. Then we switch to doggie and, with her cute little ass up in the air, I pump that kitty till I'm on the brink.

Observing white goo moving down my shaft inside the condom, I pull out to change condoms. Always a dicey moment because, predictably, she asks: "You came?" "No, no," I say, "just a lot of lube in there."

Before resuming mish I get her to frig herself and to stick a finger into her own bum. She's happily obliging. Having pumped Tantalizer back to fullness I pour KY on the outside of the condom and then have another pleasant go at that furry little slit.

Suddenly Tina says, very gently, "This time you come."

Normally, being rushed annoys me. But, surprisingly, I find myself feeling no negative emotions upon hearing Tina's request; a clear sign I'm making progress toward my goal of never getting upset about anything to do with pooning.

I keep pounding her a while longer in mish and then have her roll over for a finish in lazy doggie. My release, inside her passion tunnel's viselike grip, comes with satisfying intensity.
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Tina cleans me and willingly comes back for a cuddle, after first wrapping a Keenex around my oozing cock. We chat, in a mix of Mandarin and English—her English is quite passable. I ask if she finds this job easy, and she says no. "Why not?" I ask.

"Because I have to do it with every guy who shows up. All men not like you, they don't start slowly..."

I ask whether she ever does kissing or DATY. "If they ask me, I okay," she says.

I ask about her future plans. Yes, she says, she wants to stay in Canada. She's a small girl but with a big dream: get a regular job at a store, find a nice man to marry. She sighs, thinking of this; perhaps being treasured enough by a good man for him to marry her is a faraway fantasy for a "bang-all-comers" SP like Tina?

"Do guys come back to see you several times?" I ask. She says yes, some do. "You come back," she says, "I give you private number." I lift my pooning notebook out of my jacket and let her write her cell number beside her already recorded name.

Finally I ask her age. Predictably—at lot of things are becoming predictable—she makes me guess. It's always best to guess low, so I say, "24?" "Older," she says but won't be more specific; probably around 27.

We shower together again; I tip her 1 green; and she plants a lingering farewell kiss on my lips. All in all, an encounter that delivered value.

L=7-8 (very much a matter of taste); A= 8; S=7