I’m an escort get me out of here!!!!!

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How can I not laugh watching “I’m A Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here!” – The Bush Tucker Trial reminds me of some of the beautiful cuisines I have tastedworldwider. However, I must tell you about my experience with an actual “foodie” client known for his recklessness and love for English escorts.

I wrote recently about my experience dining at ‘Dans Le Noir’, where I consumed a three-course meal in pitch black. Well, if you thought that was strange, you should have seen where I ended up this afternoon! Archipelago is a central London restaurant where the menu already contains a few creepy crawlies. Yes, folks. We are talking Scorpions, Crickets and Bees. Now, I couldn’t really give two hoots about the former two, but I am partial to watching bees at work, and I rather like the little furry bugs, more so because I love honey.

So I started my taste test with ‘Locusts and Crickets, pan-fried with chilli and garlic and served with spinach and rocket leaves.’ Yum. Crickets are bitter! Yuck. My date, Reuben, advised me to chew thoroughly – which seemed odd when I thought about what else you would do if someone handed you a cricket to eat. Still, the flavours within the meal itself helped to take a little of that away, and I started to enjoy it when the sweet fluid pooled at the bottom of my bowl.

Next was a roasted, chocolate-covered scorpion. Yes, a scorpion, and my word almighty, was that visually unappealing. Well, would you want something with a sting and pincers near your mouth – covered in chocolate or not?! In some countries, they leave the venom in the sting, which can kill you. Brilliant. Thankfully, the UK had some sense to make that against the law. I gulped much water after this to make sure I had flushed it all away.

And finally – the honey bee Brule. Preserved in honey, served to rest on a tuille biscuit, in a white chocolate honeycomb. The rosewater crème brûlée is supposed to accentuate the bee’s allegedly minty flavour. I don’t want a bee to be minty! He isn’t an After-Eight Mint! I don’t know how I will watch The Bees in Hyde Park now without feeling guilty. They are harvested during a swarm to prevent damage to the hive. At what point does the Queen do a quick head count and say, “Hold on, I think we’re missing a couple of hundred workers here!” I was happy to see the plate taken away, which is a pity because Brule is my favourite dessert worldwide, and I think I have tainted it forever.

After the meal, I made Reuben take me out for a stiff drink. He fancied flavoured vodkas. I just wanted something without the frills and fuss where I could order something everyone in the bar would have heard of!

A well deserved day off…

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What does a London agency escort do on her day off? Well, you could argue that every day is a potential day off considering she might spend her time being wined and dined in a fabulous 5-star restaurant or entertained in the suites of some of the plushest hotels in London. But I mean an actual day off.

By definition, a day off means starting and ending the day doing nothing or entirely as you please. When was my last day out? Oh my word, now there’s a question. It might have been when I was ill and convalescing at home last month, but I don’t call that a day off as I was booked to see a client. I couldn’t make it. So, I might have to go back a little further.

Maybe it was my last haircut day? No, not that either, as I think I saw someone that evening go to a show at the Bloomsbury Theatre. So when was it?

OK, I can’t remember, so that should tell you something about me. I’m a) a workaholic, b) utterly spoilt for work, and c) knackered.

I should probably book myself in for a day off soon. With the summer holidays nearly ending, I need to have a day to myself and book a lovely week away and maybe see some friends I haven’t caught up with for a while. But is that an actual day of rest, considering I will be beating the pavements as usual, just under another guise? Does that mean I have to stay indoors in my apartment all day? Alone? That could get seriously boring. Well, I suppose I could rent a few DVDs or download some music while lobbying for something comfortable. It would also mean I could actually (horror!) switch my phone off until 8 a.m. the following day…

Do you know what? I think I am going to do it. Quick! Before I change my mind.

Food for thought…

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Most of the time, my clients want me to be well-turned out, svelte, sexy and, well… arm candy.

I sport all my finest labels (usually within at least two seasons of purchase unless it’s vintage, of course), making sure my hair is tousled and my make-up subtle. Above everything else, I want to look good for me.

So when a client asks me to wear something I wouldn’t mind ruining, I have all sorts of visions. Extreme sports? Quad-biking? Mud wrestling…? Well, maybe not the latter, as that would usually involve two 24hr escorts and a rather skimpy bikini. So, I went for clothes I typically wear when I decorate and tied my hair up in a messy ponytail. It went against all my principles, but when clients call, they call the shots.

I arrived at his sumptuous Kensington apartment bang on eleven o’clock. Usually, my clients can hear my stilettos from a mile away, but wearing pumps meant I arrived unannounced. Jasper answered my knock promptly and showed me through his hallway to a large white room right at the back. The walls were as stark as the tiled floor, and there was a giant dust sheet covering most of the sparse furniture. Set up at the window was a tripod with a long-lens camera being tended to by a trendy young man; Jasper introduced him as his wingman, Mark.

The thing that concerned me the most was there was a long table on the left-hand side of the room. On this table were creamy cakes and tall blancmanges, all decorated with strawberries, cream and icing. They wouldn’t have looked out of place on a hostess trolley at The Dorchester; Jasper stuck his finger into one of them and licked the digit clean. “Perfect,” he said. Suddenly, a light bulb went off in my head.

I looked first from Mark, looking through the lens and adjusting his shot, to Jasper, who was watching me. With a grin, I went to one of the blancmanges and took a fistful. I lobbed it at Jasper, and the flash went off on Mark’s camera. With almost a guttural scream of joy, my client dived for the table and its contents. Within a few minutes, there was a full-scale food fight going on.

I was covered from head to toe in sponge, cream filling and jam. The floor, walls and even the ceiling had an uneven coating of patisserie goodness. I should have brought a shower cap as a whole trifle upended over my brunette locks. I felt a triple shampoo and condition coming on when I got home.

The only thing I should have had the foresight on was a change of clothes! Thankfully, Jasper lent me a pair of joggers and a jumper for my journey back to Mayfair. But my oh my, what fun!

Feeling Feisty

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One of my favourite words in the English dictionary is ‘passion’. There’s the passion you show your partner between the sheets when you just want to grab them and bite a chunk out of them; an intense appreciation for the arts or music and the passion of a couple arguing in the middle of the street (or wherever they happened to be when the first voice was raised). Without passion, the world would be a very boring place and no one would become excited about anything.

I consider myself to be a passionate girl in the most obvious sense of the word. None of my clients or past boyfriends could ever dub me an Ice Maiden. Good God, no! I put as much energy into my emotions as I do every aspect of my life. However, I’m not particularly confrontational so my newest client, Jon took me by surprise. He was a referral from a fellow London escort who was too poorly to make her date. She told me that Jon was a bit of a character but she thought I would be fine. “If you get stuck,” she said hoarsely, “text me.”

So I entered into our arrangement with my eyes wide open. Dressed for the summery weather and with a beaming smile, we met on the South Bank, outside Temple tube station. The first thing that riled me was that he looked me up and down before shaking my hand. And even though, for the most part, he as a gentleman, he kept trying to wind me up – bordering on rudeness. As the sun went behind a cloud and the wind picked up, my mood became equally as overcast. Jon started to irritate me. We walked and talked from Park Lane to Piccadilly, without holding hands and at least three feet apart. Now, being the professional I am and bearing in mind I’ve heard worse over the years, I started to reply through gritted teeth. I so wanted to be nice to him but I could have cheerfully strangled him. We ate a meal at The Cinnamon Club where the conversation was littered with insults. He criticised the food, the service, my table manners and those of all around him. Eventually I could take no more. With a slam of my napkin and a scrape of my chair, I turned on my heel and fled.

I was absolutely raging as I arrived home. My neighbours must have wondered what all the commotion was about as I slammed my front door shut and kicked a chair across the room. How dare he! And I was so annoyed with my colleague for giving me such a vile client. I text her and asked why she thought I would enjoy a date like that. I got no reply but Jon text me the next day and explained that he arranged dates with our 24 hour escort agency to have a really good fight with the lady. He was aroused by a fiery woman and I had left him speechless. Although when I didn’t come back he had worried that I’d been briefed before agreeing to stand in. Well, that explained it and after that I stopped giving him a hard time. So, slipping into character, I made my voice as petulant as I could and asked what the hell he thought he was playing at being extremely rude to me and his voice immediately animated. Before I knew it he was yelling all sorts of obscenities and asking if I spoke to all my boyfriends that way? It was rather surreal but oddly satisfying.

Now Jon wants to book my company at least once a fortnight so we can really scream at each other – in a completely controlled environment, of course. He says he enjoys the company of the other escorts at the agency but that I really get into the spirit of things. I told him he should see me with PMT!

Made for Madrid

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Most of our girls are available for international assignments, which is handy for our clients when they need a companion to travel abroad. One of these European cities is Madrid. Madrid is the beautiful capital of Spain and the largest city, with a population of just over 3 million people.

So why Madrid? Known for its political, economic and cultural excellence, is it any wonder that tourists and other Spaniards flock there yearly to enjoy everything this city offers? Madrid is a culture-lovers paradise, from its world-renowned art museums to beautiful architecture (especially the Catholic churches, a wonder to behold) and classical music.

Our London escorts love to be entertained in Madrid. These girls tell us that the nightlife is one of the city’s main attractions! You haven’t indeed visited Madrid if you haven’t experienced the clubs, jazz lounges, and live music venues. Dining out in Tapas bars, drinking at cocktail bars, or watching flamenco – there is something for all and something every night. Ask your escort if she likes to dance or sit and tap your feet to the varied talents of Spanish musicians.

Although the weather in Madrid is much the same as in London (with much less rain!!), Don’t let that put you off a city break, remember. As long as you both wrap up warm, you should be able to enjoy the many hidden treasures of this historic and beautiful city. And if the cold gets too much, hop on a bus or train and go somewhere together you might not have thought of before. Remember, when you think you know Madrid, something may pop up and surprise you!

Booking a Spanish escort to accompany you abroad couldn’t be simpler. Either call or email us Monday through Sunday, 24 hours a day. Remember, our escorts need 24 hours’ notice before confirming an international booking, so plan accordingly.