I was running late, as usual. New Years Eve resolution number seven, right after the ‘eat less chocolate’, to be punctual on your dates has failed. There I was, rushing through the lobby of the Radisson Blue hotel, quickly checking the room number in my phone, while jumping into the lift. One last chance to adjust my hair and refresh the lip stick. ‘Not bad,’ I thought to myself getting the reassurance of my mirror reflection.
Today I was meeting a new client, Jack was his name. I knew not much about him, only that he was 42, from North America and that he was on business in Manchester. He was taking me to my favourite French restaurant. Dressed to impress in a jaw-dropping red ‘femme fatale’ dress, complimenting my gorgeous curves and revealing a delicious cleavage, I felt like a goddess. I took a deep breath and knocked on the door, thinking to myself ‘show-time’. Even for an experienced independent escort london meeting a new client was a nerve-wrecking experience. Will he be tall, short, big, slim, attractive or rather normal, how will he smell, will he have a bad breath, will we have anything in common and the very important question, how big will be the size of his man-hood? All those question go through a girl’s mind when she knocks on someone’s door for the first time. Standing in front of closed doors and waiting for five seconds can be the longest time in your life. Your pulse goes up, your hands sweat, adrenalin rushes through your entire body. And then the door opened, I held my breath for a second and looked him in the eyes. ‘Wow’, was my first thought. He was gorgeous, smart looking, young, his scent was brain numbing, and did I mention gorgeous!?
I was trying to open a conversation but my tongue was frozen and I could not get one decent sentence out of my mouth without stumbling over randomly thrown in words. ‘This is bad, really bad’ I thought to myself. How could this happen? I was working as a busty London escorts and I have dated some of the most powerful and wealthy men and I twisted them all around my little finger with a simple smile, but this time it was me who was running right into a trap. Always highly professional on my dates, I never felt so nervous, never revealed any kind of emotion. Was it the shy way he looked at me; was it his stunning smile, revealing perfectly white teeth; was it the black suit jacked with a tight white shirt underneath and blue jeans showing off his perfectly shaped body? No matter what it was, I was falling for this stranger that I have known only for a few seconds.
‘Shall we go?’ he asked and brought me back on planet earth. ‘Sure,’ was all I could get out without sounding too stupid.
The dinner went really well. We chatted about god and the world and I was back in the game, all my charming and irresistibly sexy self. Between the scallops for starter and salmon for main I found out that he was freshly divorced, an ex-baseball player who played successfully for the Canadian team but suffered an injury and therefore was forced to retire from sports. He then set up an own business and was gaining great success with it. Not only irresistibly good looking but also blessed with a wicked personality, he was the perfect package. By the time we got to the desert I was falling for him, I could feel it then and there. ‘Trouble!’ I thought to myself.
On the way back to the hotel I could feel the excitement playing games with me. A mixture of desperation to kiss him and the timidity of a teenager on a first date made my knees feel weak. The burning sensation went down my groin like a stream of million molecules. My breathing got heavier, my head dizzy from desire.
He opened the door to his room. Here we were. And once again I have lost it. My confidence was gone. He helped me out of my coat and put it on a hanger. In a slow motion he took off his suit jacket and put it on a hanger too. It may have taken him a couple of seconds but it felt like an eternity to me. I stepped towards him, leaning with one hand slightly against the wall, with the other running along my dress. I looked him straight in the eyes, gently biting my lower lip. With one hand he softly caressed my cheek with the other he slowly run up my arm, towards my neck. Holding my face in his hands, he kissed me, passionately and forcefully. I kissed his ears, his neck, breathing heavily onto his skin and opening his shirt at the same time, exploring his perfectly shaped chest with my lips. Pulling down his trousers I could feel his fit bottom, squeezed it tight with my hands and pushed his hips towards mine. He turned me around and unzipped my dress, while deeply breathing in the smell of my hair and kissing my neck. My body was on fire, I wanted him, I needed him. My bra and pants quickly landed on the floor. I turned around to face him, wearing nothing but my heels. He stared at me and for a second we were lost in each others eyes, wanting each other more than anything else. I pushed him on the bed and crawled on top of him. Giving him a gentle kiss on his lips I slowly worked my way down his perfect body, pulling down his pants, revealing a perfectly sized cock. God I wanted him! Without hesitation, I sat on top of him and let him slide inside. Oh god… the sensation was rushing through my entire body, making me feel weak and hot and sweaty. I moved my hips up and down in circular motions, faster, digging my fingers into the blanket. He held my bottom and pushed his groin urgently against me, increasing the speed with every motion. I could not resist it any more, the feeling was overwhelming, taking control over me, I moved faster, oh god, god…
Breathing out heavily, I gave him a big smile and a gentle kiss on his lips. I laid on top of him for a moment, inhaling the smell of his skin, kissing his forehead, his eyes, his nose, his lips. It didn’t take us long to fall over each other again, and again and again. We couldn’t stop, we were mad about each other as if there was no tomorrow.
Like all good things this one had to end too. One last time I looked him deep in the eyes, kissing him gently on the lips and wishing him a good flight home. Will I ever see Jack again? I don’t know. But I will always keep him in my memory as my special Valentines Date.
I suppose it is the danger of the industry no matter if you are an Independent Escort London or a Mature Escort London or even a Manchester Escort, no matter how professional and detached you are, one day it will hit you. And this is when you realise that you are nothing more than just a normal girl.