Freaky Blonde LINDSAY SUCKS
Available 6/19-7/26
Height: 5'3”
Weight: 101 pounds
Blonde Hair
Blue Eyes
Measurements: 34d-23-34
Age: 21 (birthdate: Dec. 4, 1999)
Hi everyone!
I’m Lindsay, a bubbly 21-year-old who was born and raised in the city of Sacramento, California – home to the state's capitol building. My childhood was filled with love and support from my family, and we always had a blast together. One of our favorite traditions was our annual summer trips to Palm Springs, where we would hike, swim, and bask under the blazing sun.
After graduating from high school, I wasn't quite sure what I wanted to do with my life. College felt like the expected path, but I wasn't passionate about any particular field of study. But then I stumbled upon LPIN and everything changed. As someone who has always been drawn to sex, I was immediately intrigued by the idea of turning my insatiable craving into a profession. Without any hesitation, I packed my bags and moved to Nevada to become a professional companion for hire. The constant demands of brothel life initially overwhelmed me, but as I embraced my new identity and began entertaining clients, it also exhilarated me.
Pamela, a former courtesan at Happy Ending Ranch, taught me everything I know about giving an unrushed girlfriend experience. I couldn’t have asked for a better mentor.
As we engage in deep conversations and lock eyes, I make sure to give you my undivided attention. With each touch, our passion grows until we reach the peak of intimacy. Your every desire becomes my lone priority as I strive to fulfill your deepest fantasies.
When I'm not busy creating experiences that last a lifetime, I'm working toward my massage certifications. My clients have raved about my luxurious sensual body rubs and healing touch. Between appointments, you can find me sunbathing poolside, working out at the gym, or unwinding over a glass of wine with the other lovely ladies here. We’re the closest sisterhood!
While this admittedly very non-traditional career path wasn’t what I pictured for myself as a child, I’m incredibly proud of the commitment and courage it required to take this leap. Every day brings new challenges and thrilling discoveries, shaping me into a stronger person and a more skilled lover (they don’t call me Lindsay Sucks for nothing!). My motivation extends well beyond pure financial gain, too, as I plan to use my earnings to explore every corner of the world. In this moment, I am content with my independence and the lucrative pleasure that comes from doing what I genuinely enjoy.
Are you interested in an extended play GFE? We can start the party off right with a champagne toast in the hot tub and then follow up with a super naughty Netflix and chill. A Hulu and do you. An IMAX and climax. Or an Amazon Prime and nasty time. To book an appointment, please call Happy Ending Ranch’s office at 775-555-0105. Or if you prefer to make it a surprise, feel free to show up unannounced – it’s all part of the fun for me.
With love,
Lindsay
Xoxo
Let’s create some unforgettable memories together!
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Ryan traced haphazard circles on the bar’s finish, his rugged fingertips catching on the occasional nick or groove in the weathered wood. He shifted on the cracked vinyl stool, the worn material clinging to the denim covering his thighs. The sticky underside of his beer bottle left a wet ring on the scarred surface as he lifted it for a swig, the sharp, yeasty taste doing little to quench the thirst parching his throat. His concentration flicked to the curtain every few seconds, boring holes through the tattered fabric.
Beside him, Justin, a half-empty pint glass in hand, had a grin stretching from ear to ear as the neon lights cast a garish display of red and blue hues onto his face. But once he noticed his best friend’s dilemma, Justin poked an elbow into Ryan’s ribcage. “Dude, don’t worry. Jim just flashed me the thumbs up. She’s gonna be here any second.”
The once-fragmented rhythm of Ryan’s bouncing knee intensified, rattling the barstool. “So, this is really happening, huh?” Clammy hands flexed into fists. “I mean, I’m stoked, don’t get me wrong. It’s just a little surreal, you know?” His fingers drummed a frenzied beat against his kneecap, matching the rapid pace of his thoughts. “Just another typical Saturday, right? Hang out with a buddy, hit the brothel, bang a hot chick together. No big deal.”
Looking every bit like the smug cat who had just devoured the world’s most satisfying canary, Justin shifted on his stool. “Kayleigh – Lindsay? – I gotta ask her what’s up with that later. But hey, I’m telling you, man, she’s the best in the business. Top-shelf, grade-A, one-hundred percent certified knockout. Hell, you’ve seen her before. That party with Tessa? Child’s play, my friend. This girl is gonna blow your fucking mind. Pun very much intended.”
“God, I hope so.” Ryan couldn’t tear his eyes away from the velvet barrier that separated the bar from the private back rooms now, almost willing her to appear through sheer force of will.
“Hey, I get it. I understand,” Justin said, his own gaze drifting there as well. “Every time I’m here, waiting for her, it’s like … electric, you know? Like it’s Christmas morning and I’m a kid again.” He glanced back at Ryan. “But the best part? The reality is even better than the anticipation.”
Crisp clicking, though distant, cut through the baseball commentary droning from the corner television. Tap-tap-tap, pause, tap-tap-tap. The irregular cadence drew closer, each strike against the hardwood a countdown to ignition.
“Christ, that’s gotta be her.” Ryan’s chin jerked up, neck craning in the direction of their forbidden fruit.
Masculine heads swiveled in unison, a scattering of glazed eyes and slack jaws magnetized due west. The clacking sharpened, authoritative snaps of stiletto heels punctuated each sashay. Their echoes serenaded the parlor, feeding the swelling undercurrent of murmured speculation. Vivid fantasies sparked and caught, whipping through the bar like a four-alarm fire – silken skin prickling to attention under calloused hands, anxious breaths swallowed by liquor-numbed lips, and unspeakable pleasure blurring the lines between business and reality.
Justin thumped his glass on the bar and slid off the stool, boots hitting the floor with a decisive stomp. Devilry danced in his eyes. "Into the abyss we go.”
Torn between high-strung nerves and unshakable lust, Ryan maintained his white-knuckled death grip on the handrail. "Nah, man, I’m gonna hang back a minute. She might rabbit if we come on too strong right out the gate."
“Dude, she ain’t gonna rabbit! Whores don’t rabbit.”
The beat stuttered to a halt. Fibers whispered together as the curtain rippled, then parted.
And there stood Lindsay, a devastating vision of loveliness, bathed in the amber glow of fluorescent lamps and neon beer signs.
Luxurious golden ringlets spilled over her shoulders in a shimmering stream, chasing the delicate curve of her collarbone. Cobalt eyes sparkled with open invitation, promising euphoric indulgence to any man financially secure enough to dive into their depths. Scarlet-stained lips, the color of ripe cherries and unholy desires, parted to reveal a flash of pearly white teeth. The salacious ambiance caressed her figure, painting tantalizing highlights and mysterious shadows across nubile expanses of skin.
"Is that my Justin I see, or am I just dreaming? Wow, what a surprise. Back again so soon, baby?” Breathless laughter tinkled out as Lindsay glided across the stained wood floor. The hem of her deep teal dress swished around toned thighs, damning the standards of decency. With each rolling step, her surgically enhanced breasts bounced and swayed like buoys on rolling ocean swells, trembling against the plunging neckline barely containing their ample charms. She threw her arms around Justin's neck, crushing her lush curves against his solid chest. "Two visits in one month? You're spoiling me!"
“Trust me, honey, you’re the one doing the spoiling.” He extended his arms wide, welcoming her embrace. “I couldn’t stay away if I tried. You’re too damn irresistible.”
Ryan tracked the hypnotic sway of Lindsay's hips as he waited his turn, transfixed. The silk shrouded her contours, tracing the graceful arch of her hips and accentuating the dip of her waist. Exquisite wishbone straps strained over her shoulders, somehow accomplishing the Herculean task of keeping those heaving swells from spilling free. Ryan had never been so jealous of a piece of cloth.
“You look happy!”
“Nah, I …”
Another peal of bell-like giggles drowned out Justin’s reply. Lindsay stepped back, hands resting on his shoulders, amusement dancing across her features. "Just in a good mood? I can understand that.”
Mirth still clinging to her lips, Lindsay pivoted to face Ryan. One stiletto pump shifted in front of the other as she strutted toward him, each step an invitation to worship at her altar. "Mmm, and what do we have here?"
Ryan fought to swallow past the Mojave that had taken up residence in his throat. Feeling like he was trapped in a vat of molasses, he slid off the stool and stood rigid. "I'm, uhh …" He coughed, clearing the rust from his vocal cords. "I'm … I’m Ryan." His fingers flexed, itching to confirm that this woman wasn't an alcohol-induced mirage in this otherwise vast desert wasteland.
"Ryan." Lindsay purred his name, sampling it as if it were a delectable morsel. Fragrant jasmine tickled his nose as she pressed against him, soft flesh yielding to unyielding muscle. Delicate but insistent arms twined around his waist. "I’m Lindsay. I’ve seen you admiring me from afar here and there before, but I think it’s high time we finally got to know each other personally, don’t you?”
Heat streaked through him. "Damn, girl, you read my mind." He gestured to the nearby barstool with a flourish worthy of Houdini. "Would you like to sit down? Make yourself at home.”
After a head tilt and flirtatious lip bite, Lindsay perched her perfect little backside on the offered stool. Strappy heels hooked over the brass footrail as she spun to face him in an array of silk and blonde. Thick lashes fluttered over bright eyes. "Buy a thirsty girl a drink?"
With a crooked finger, Ryan beckoned the bartender over.
Jim moseyed to their end of the bar, drying his hands on a ratty dishtowel. "What can I get for you, princess?"
Lindsay inclined her body, a waterfall of cleavage spilling over the neckline of her minidress. "I'll have what he's having." A dainty finger walked an idle path along Justin's thigh as he settled onto the stool behind her. "You boys are too much. To what do I owe this honor? Justin, darlin', I thought we had our next date circled for August."
Guttural emotion tore from Justin's throat as he smacked his knees with both hands. He swiveled Lindsay to him and pinned her with an inquisitive gaze. "First things first, babe. Lindsay? You’re going by Lindsay now?”
She shrugged, a demure smile nipping at her lips. "Oh, that. Just needed a change, I suppose." Seeing Pamela use her real name had given her the inkling to do the same. And now that Pamela and Colt were off to Baltimore, Lindsay was in charge of the house for the next few months. If not forever. Her first act as general manager was to shed the name Kayleigh and adopt the moniker she’d wanted to use since day one. Colt said I have full authority to do whatever I want. I’m running the show now. “I think Lindsay suits me much better.”
"It's not your real name, though, right?" Justin pressed.
Her lips twisted into an exaggerated smirk. "Oh lord no, of course not." If I’m going to use my real name, I must protect my identity now more than ever before. Her fingers tangled and untangled, a nervous ballet of digits betraying her inner turmoil. She forced a giggle, the sound bubbling up from her throat like champagne from a shaken bottle. "I don't know; I’ve just always been partial to the name Lindsay for some reason."
"You've been Kayleigh to me for three years." Justin's fingers crept along the skin of her forearm, tracing idle patterns from wrist to elbow. "Old habits die hard, so don't be surprised if I slip up and call you that during our party."
The draft beer glistened like liquid diamond in the cut crystal mug, refracting the hedonistic glow of the dingy surroundings. Lindsay wound slender fingers around the tumbler, crimson nails flashing against the sparkling facets. She brought it to her lips, the slight tremor in her hand indicating a flutter of nerves beneath her poised façade.
Having secured Justin’s unwavering focus, Lindsay tipped the glass back in one swift motion. The alcohol seared a trail down her throat, igniting a heat that radiated outward through her chest. She savored the smoldering warmth, so different from the block of ice that seemed to permanently reside in her stomach these days.
"It’s all good, love," Lindsay purred, setting down the glass with a decisive clink. She signaled Jim for a refill, knowing all too well it was the liquid courage needed to navigate yet another treacherous journey on the self-imposed path to eternal damnation. Mischief danced in her eyes as her lips curled into a feline smile. "You can still call me Kayleigh if you want."
The opening chords of Britney Spears' "I'm a Slave 4 U" oozed from the loudspeakers, its baseline reverberating through Lindsay's psyche. Though seated on the stool, her body couldn’t resist the siren’s call of her favorite song. Lindsay’s thighs parted slightly, one foot tapping in time with the beat. Her hips circled, a slow, sensual grind against the leather seat. Delicate hands scaled up her thighs, fingers teasing the hem of her skirt before gliding higher. Her back arched and head tipped back in a moment of freed bliss. Music was her therapy and sex was her escape.
She was so tired of feeling anxious and overburdened with all these new responsibilities. What happens if bringing Donnie here backfires like it did with Evie and Becky? Holding Justin’s hungry stare, Lindsay silently vowed that today would be different. Jim already told me these guys want a two-on-one. Today, she would seize every carnal pleasure offered with open arms and not fret over the administrative side of things. Two cocks, one girl, zero worries. Consequences be damned.
Lindsay shifted her sights back to Ryan, noticing the perspiration forming on his brow and the nervous twitch of his fingers. You’ve never fucked a girl with another guy present, too, huh?
Don’t worry.
“So, tell me a little bit about yourself.” Ryan’s eyes blinked with curiosity as he studied her, trying to reconcile the vivacious young woman before him with the snippets of information he’d gleaned from his best friend about her life. “How did you get started doing this?”
Lindsay skimmed a fingertip along the edge of her glass, her expression growing distant for a moment as she seemed to ponder the question. A wistful smile played at the corners of her mouth. "I was chasing thrills. Craving excitement, the rush of the unknown. The chance to embrace my wild side and push my limits.” She quirked an eyebrow. “But let’s cut to the chase, hot stuff. The cash was the reason. A girl’s gotta eat, right?”
Ryan responded with a wink and a nod of acknowledgment. "Can’t argue with that logic.” He raised his bottle in a toast. “To chasing thrills and making bank. May we all be so lucky.”
Lindsay’s glass tinkled against his. “Damn straight, skippy. In this life, you gotta grab the bull by the horns and ride it for all it’s worth.” She nudged closer, her breath warming his ear as her voice dropped to an intimate whisper. “And trust me, I know how to ride.”
“Holy shit, girl. You can’t … I mean, fuck. You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” Ryan shook his head, a touch of amazement coloring his expression. "And three years in the game at just twenty-one years old?" He let out a whistle. "Impressive."
Pride flashed across Lindsay's face at the compliment, her posture straightening. "Yep," she popped the "p" sound at the end of the word for emphasis. “What’s with the twenty questions, Lieutenant Hottie?” Her eyes remained steadfast, a silent challenge in their depths as if daring him to probe further. "Why so curious? Thinking about trading in your firefighter gear for a pair of assless chaps? Want to be the next Magic Mike?"
An explosion of unexpected laughter erupted from Ryan's chest, and he held up his hands in surrender. "Oh, hell no. I think I’ll leave the exotic dancing to the professionals. I just find you … intriguing."
Justin, who had been observing the exchange, chuckled and slapped Ryan on the shoulder. "Careful, bro. This one’s a maneater. She’ll devour you whole and still have room for seconds. Take it from someone who knows.”
"Oh, don’t be a killjoy. I don't bite … much." She bared her teeth in a mock growl, then dissolved into giggles. Straightening up, Lindsay glided her hands over the front of her dress, the silky fabric crinkling beneath her palms.
"But seriously, boys," she continued, her tone dropping an octave, becoming sharp and domineering. "You want to know the secret to my success?" Lindsay paused, allowing the anticipation to build as she glanced between Ryan and Justin's eager faces.
She nudged closer and stage-whispered, "Hard work, dedication, and a killer pair of heels." Lindsay extended one immaculate leg, showcasing the gleaming white stiletto encasing her foot. Her hand gravitated to Ryan's forearm. "Never underestimate the power of a good shoe."
Justin let out a murmur of appreciation, his eyes trailing over Lindsay's heel-clad foot. "Noted. Beauty and wisdom – a deadly combination."
Ryan's skin tingled where she'd touched him, a frisson racing up his spine. A lump caught in his throat, but he was able to stave it off. "So, uh, what's the craziest thing you've experienced in your line of work?"
Lindsay threw her head back and emitted a cackle that echoed throughout the entire parlor. "Oh, sugar, the stories I have could scandalize or enchant, depending on the view.” She shook her head, blonde waves bouncing around her shoulders. "Let's just say I've seen and done things that would challenge everything you’ve ever thought possible.”
She underscored the statement with a wink, her mascaraed lashes fluttering. Ryan found himself leaning closer, drawn by the allure of illicit exploits.
"Paint me a picture," he breathed, his words a fervent appeal.
"Ah, ah, ah," Lindsay tutted, clicking her tongue in mock disapproval. "A lady never kisses and tells." Her fingers danced up his thigh, her touch a velvety whisper against his skin. "But if you play the game just right, I might just grant you a glimpse behind the curtain. And if fortune favors the bold, that glimpse could turn into a full-scale spectacle … today.”
“Today, huh?” he croaked, his mouth dry as sandpaper. “I like the sound of that.”
She unleashed a wicked laugh. “I thought you might. But patience, baby. Good things come to those who wait.”
Desperate to regain his equilibrium, Ryan propped his forearm upon the bar. "So, Lindsay, I've heard some pretty impressive things about you. Rumor has it you're the Maserati of the escort world. The best money can buy." Ryan’s teeth flashed, white and broad. "What I want to know is, what makes you so exceptional? What's your secret sauce, so to speak?"
Lindsay's abdomen fluttered with suppressed amusement. "You know, I'd like to think it's my charm and wit that keep them coming back for more." She brought the mug to her lips, savoring the rich liquid as it caressed her tongue, the vapors dancing on her breath. A couple of coughs escaped her, dissipating into her hand. "But honestly, I'm just passionate about what I do. Making memories for my clients is what truly lights me up."
Justin saluted her with a tip of his head. "That's what sets you apart, honey. Your dedication in every party we’ve ever had shines through.”
Lindsay's cheeks bloomed with a subtle, petal-pink blush reminiscent of a shy rose unfolding its delicate layers. "Oh, thank you both so much for your kind words." Her soft-as-silk expression returned, lingering on the two gentlemen. "I'm excited for today. It promises to be quite an adventure."
A tickle teased the back of Ryan's throat, an insistent itch clamoring for relief. "Speaking of adventures, Justin and I had quite the weekend in Vegas. We tried our luck at gambling and ended up winning big."
Lindsay's eyebrows arched skyward. "Oh, intriguing. Last weekend, you mean? Pray, do share."
"You should've seen it. The roulette wheel kept landing on our numbers over and over again. And then we moved on to craps, and it seemed like every roll went our way." Ryan’s head wagged back and forth. "We walked out of there with more money than we ever thought possible."
"That's incredible! I'm not much of a gambler, but it sounds like you two really lucked out."
"Man, we couldn't believe our fortune. It was like the universe was telling us to keep the good times rolling, you know? We figured, what better way to do that than by booking some quality time with the hottest girl in Nevada? We were gonna go all out, too, and get a foursome with you and Tessa. But when we stopped by the other day to make an appointment, Jim dropped the bomb that she'd split.” He released an old man’s sigh. “What’s up with that? Tessa was barely here a minute.”
"I think it'll be much better with you, Lindsay, and you alone." Just thinking about it gave Justin sharp palpitations. "That way, we can focus all of our energy on giving you pleasure. It won’t have to be divided up."
“Oh, wow. You boys certainly know how to butter a girl up.” Lindsay eased inward yet again, her jasmine-scented hair brushing against Justin’s cheek. "You know, I think it's time we stopped all this talking and started having some fun. What do you say we hit the dance floor?"
Justin grinned, already on his feet. "Sounds like a plan. After you.”
He held out a hand to Lindsay, who took it with a glowing smile and stepped forward, only to glance back across her shoulder. "Just where I like you. Behind me.”
As Lindsay tugged Justin toward the postage stamp of a dance floor, Ryan found himself following as if drawn by an invisible string. The frantic pulse of the music seemed to synchronize with his heartbeat.
Lindsay moved with fluid, honed grace, her hips bumping hypnotically to the beat. She looped her arms around Justin's neck, their bodies melding as they danced. Ryan stood rooted in place, unable to tear his gaze away from the amazing scene before him.
Detecting the palpable essence of his concentration, Lindsay glanced Ryan’s way, her lips curving into a come-hither smile. She curled a finger toward herself. "Don't be shy, Ryan. There's plenty of me to go around."
A vermillion warmth flooded Ryan's face at her bold invitation, but his feet were already carrying him forward. He sidled up behind Lindsay, resting his hands on her hips – those fine, fine hips encased by the blue hemline of her minidress, which left little to the imagination.
Lindsay reached back, twining an arm around Ryan's neck and drawing him flush against her. “That’s more like it, baby. Oh, wow. Is that a big dick already?” Her words were brazen, so unladylike, and it awoke a beast within him. She was soft in all the places he was hard, her curves fitting into the planes of his body. Her hips ground between them. “I looooove big dicks.”
