Thursday, 28 January 2010

And now for something completely different .....

He called the other day, to arrange an outcall for last night. Ooops, preliminary problem, I couldn't check his address as he didn't have a phone line, having just moved in. So he emailed me a copy of his passport and also the lease for his new flat. ( How refreshing, perhaps when I talk about my valuing discretion on my website, someone actually listened. )

So I caught a cab to his address and arrived 5 minutes early. ( Yes, really. ) It has to be said, his passport photograph didn't have me reaching for my rampant rabbit, but as he later explained it was taken ten years ago.

I gingerly knocked on the door, which duly opened. There, in a pec hugging t-shirt and jeans stood the most handsome creature I have spied for quite some time. Oh my.

I gave up asking a long time ago, that most obvious of questions "Just, why ?"

I know that men contact me because they just do not want a relationship, inter alia. Someone once said "They don't pay for the sex, they pay for us to leave afterwards." Words to that effect at least.

So we entered the lounge and he took my coat. I admired my surroundings, high ceilings ( great for acoustics ), a roaring fire and one of those surround sound wotsits that only men would think about spending hundreds of pounds on.

"Did you remember to wear stockings and suspenders for me ?"

"Of course". * cheeky grin *

"Can I see ?"

So I stood up whilst this delicious creature took off my outer clothing to reveal a basque and stockings. In return, he took off his t-shirt and I had to stop myself from drooling when I caught sight of his toned and pert uppers. His lowers, meanwhile, had made themselves perfectly obvious too, so without a prompt or a hint we began to kiss. The perfect kisser, start slow and gentle, and build to a passionate clinch.

I can recall a moment when we had moved to the bedroom when I murmured "Nice work if you can get it", before another passionate kiss that had my toes tingling.

The rest of that perfect hour needs no further description, it was sensual, it was sexy, it was powerful, it was explosive and we were both left in a panting, sweaty heap.

Why have I bothered to blog about that? Because right at that very moment, when we were cuddled together and just chit chatting in the warm after glow ( whilst he was desperately trying to fight the male urge to fall into a deep sleep ) I was reminded of the reason I became an escort.

True job satisfaction.


LL xx

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