This review is on Karen, the only Karen listed on Eros-USA in the Dayton, Ohio area. To say Karen was a disappointment and a rip-off artist is to redefine both terms at some new and grossly lower level. I found Karen's ad on Eros-USA and it contained a photo that fogged her face as many photos in provider ads do. As always, I assumed the doctored photo was designed to protect her identity from her parents -- if she has any -- the police and her boyfriend.

After she arrived for our session, I discovered the fogged photo was most likely published to hide one fact -- the woman is plain ugly. In addition to her male-like face that was framed by unkept dirty, oily red hair, she sported numerous body piercing and a giant biker-like tattoo on her belly that was clearly designed to double a road sign. It was visible above her panty line and pointed straight at her vagina. Her ad was a lie at so many levels it’s hard to number all of them, but for the sake of good reporting, I'll try. Karen's ad offered a no rush, GFE experience.

The truth turned out to be 180 degree out of phase with her ad. No rush, not hardly. Karen redefined the phase 'Slam bam thank-you mam! The ad described Karen as a petite 5-foot, 2-inch, 115-pound young woman. Age:25. In reality, she was a porky 130-pound-plus creature who had seen at least 35 birthdays. Her calves were short and well-muscled under a layer of fat. Her thighs were thick. Her ass was flat. Her shoulders and arms looked like Karen had spent her entire life tossing hay bales up to a 20-foot high barn loft. Ever her neck was thick and unfeminine. In fairness, Karen's breasts were nice. They were small -- B cup as advertised-- perky, well shaped and capped with nice nipples. I was not allowed to touch them, but looking at them turned out to be the high-point of our sad, sad encounter.

When I called Karen, she affected the manners and attitude of a bright, relaxed, easy going even submissive young woman who enjoyed her ’new' profession. I thought I was talking to an eager to please beginner. After a couple of moments of typical ice-breaking conversation, I listed the specific services I wanted her to provide, which is my habit. Good communications in these situations, in my view, are vital. It prevents embarrassing awkwardness, even unpleasant confrontations during the date. At first, I asked her if there were any services she would not perform. Karen answered by asking me playfully what I wanted from her. I though her question was an effort at good, tactful communications.

I gave her a simple unambiguous list which included on the mouth passionate kissing, bbbj and vaginal intercourse. I also asked her if she enjoyed having her breasts fondled gently, kissed, licked and having her nipples teased to erection. She laughed again and said her breasts were sensitive and responsive. She added she had no problem with anything on my list. Then I told her she could expect two completely separate vaginal intercourse sessions. I asked her if she was capable of experiencing multiple orgasms if I could give her 30 to 45 minutes of uninterrupted vaginal intercourse. She laughed and said she was looking forward to such an experience. We set a time, a date and talked for a solid 30 minutes about problems she was experiencing with her website.

I volunteered to fix the problems for nothing more than the pleasure of her company. At this point she had totally taken me in. I thought I had found a girl who would make an ideal steady date. Boy was I wrong. When Karen arrived at my home she was dressed as if she expected to play softball all afternoon -- cheap top, ragged out jeans and white athletic shoes. I was disappointed, but not crushed. I specifically asked her to dress well and wear high heel shoes. She pushed her way through my front door without offering me a cheek to kiss or a hand to shake. She plopped herself down on my couch and launched straight into her sales pitch. I knew I was in trouble. She said over the telephone her fee was $300.00 per hour or $200.00 for one half hour. She repeated her fee schedule and asked for immediate payment.

I asked her what happened to the easy going young lady I talked to on the telephone? "I'm here to f**k you, not charm your socks off," she replied. I asked her to leave. She said, "Fine. My minimum fee is $200.00." I told her she was out of her mind and suddenly she backed off and asked me to explain my problem with her. I did not tell her she was ugly, unappealing and behaved more like a $30.00 streetwalker than a $300.00 per hour escort. I did tell her I was certain she misrepresented herself in her advertisement and during our telephone conversation to such a degree I was no longer interested in her.

She insisted that I list all the flaws in her ad and our telephone session. I pointed out her weight and old. I added her attitude was abrasive and unappealing. I ask her to leave again. She agreed to leave as soon as I coughed up $200.00. I refused and she threatened to knock on every door in my apartment complex with tears in her eyes and claim I attempted to rape her. She won. No one needs that kind of grief. After spent five minutes with her, I realized I had been conned by an aggressive, thoroughly jaded, crude biker woman who was capable of making good on her threat. So, I backed off and tried to salvage something from my folly.

I offered her a glass of wine, which she refused. She did accept a bottle of water, opened it, took a long slug and asked for her money. In the bedroom, she became a Marine Corps drill sergeant and ordered me out of my clothes. There was no kissing and no bbbj. Instead, she wiped out a condom that was as thick as boot leather, wrestled it onto my flaccid penis and stuck my tool in her mouth while she was fully dressed. I asked her to get naked and she reluctantly complied. Usually, for me a condom turns a blowjob into a waste of time. I reminded her that I specified a bbbj over the telephone and ask her to remove the condom and promised her I would not ejaculate in her month.

She implied I was lying about the bbbj she promised me, insisting she always practices safe sex. The boot leather condom stayed in lace. In fairness, Karen did give me the best blowjob through a condom I have ever experienced. I stopped her when I became erect and asked to assume the missionary position, which she refused to do. Instead, she grabbed my penis, jumped on top of me, jammed my tool inside her vagina and began flexing her knees so violently my tool slipped out of her a number of times. She man-handled my penis each time it slipped out, until it became flaccid. I told her she needed to slow down. She refused, torn off the condom, spit on her hand and masturbated me back to an erect state and kept going. When I realized she intended to finish me off with her hand, I told her I did not pay her $200.00 to perform an act I could do myself for free.

She told me to shut up and she continued jerking my joint until I climaxed in her hand. This woman had more nerve than Fort Knox has gold. "Now wasn't that good," she said, as she pulled on her dirty jeans. I changed the subject. I told her I thought she was a beginner after our telephone conversation. "I was wrong wasn't I?" She smiled for the first time and told me she had been a pro since she turned 18 years old. I asked her if she enjoyed her work and she claimed she loved it. I asked her why she enjoyed it. "Because I get to be in control and I get paid for it," Karen said. "Karen, you are also setting yourself up to get murdered. One of these days you are going run your sorry act on a man who is violent. He'll get pissed off and kill you," I said, adding "Get the hell out of your business before you stumble on to this character." She claimed she could take care of herself and marched toward my front door. Total elapsed time: 10 minutes. Total effort: Zero.

As she left, she said I could call her again and said good-bye. I did not answer her and she repeated "Good-bye." I did not answer her again and she became upset. What did this sorry excuse for a woman expect from me? Do bank tellers bid bank robbers good-be as they leave the bank? I doubt it. She screamed good-bye at me a final time and I flexed my fingers up and down to get rid of her. She slammed the door as she left. Karen is the best reason I have ever met for supporting illegal prostitution and legal euthanasia. Put simply, Karen is a liar, a con artist and a theft. Honest escorts should form a posse, scour Huber Heights until they find this witch and forcibly convince her to change professions.

I am a man who likes women and sex more than I should. And I have met my share of jaded hookers. If I had picked Karen up off the street, I would not have written this review. I would have chalked it up as a bad experience with a supremely defective drug addict, felt sorry for her and forgot about it. If Karen is a drug addict, I did not see any sign of her addiction. No, Karen is worse than a drug addict and far more dangerous. She is total socio-path, a woman who could make a fortune in tele-marketing. I have never met a person whose telephone persona was so completely alien from her true self. In that very sad sense, Karen is a truly remarkable woman, a woman no man should ever meet in person. Let's nail this bitch.

I recommend that every man who reads this review should call her, enjoy her telephone patter for as long as you can keep her on the line, make an appointment with her and leave standing out in the cold where she belongs. Avoid this creature with the same vigor you would use to avoid contracting bubonic plague.