Category Archives: City

It’s a fabulous life…

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I am not under any illusion that I am not mistaken for a beautiful elite escort on many occasions at the fantastic 5-star hotels I visit clients at; I’m no fool. A woman walking alone through the lobby of a London hotel that the concierge is never seen with a large bag, no luggage and dressed to kill in the middle of the day; it’s not exactly rocket science, but the excitement of giving the attendants a little wink as I sashay past in my finery gives me a sense of power and the man on the door a thrill of sharing something sordid with a gorgeous 24hr Companions lady.

Not only am I a top expensive escort in London, but it feels like I am the creative director of someone’s fantasies. That is so much fun, let me tell you. Working out my wardrobe, makeup and props for making their date one to rebook is such a rush. My fellow elite escort pals and I (all 3 of them are on the same wavelength as me) have a whale of a time swopping tips and showing off our new treasures that have been showered on us by our most faithful clientele.

In my line of work, it will not embarrass me easily. Whether I am acting out an unusual fantasy or contorting my body in various positions to be observed in great detail, I cannot get the giggles nor get all self-conscious and reluctant. Being in public with men of all shapes, sizes, ages and fashion dos and don’ts are other factors I must overlook. I am very open-minded, which is a massive bonus if you want to do this job.

Even going shopping or dining with a much older client who has requested I wear next to nothing and hang off his arm all date is a sure sign to the general public that I am either a hooker or a gold digger. But again, I don’t care. The things I get to experience, like eating in the finest restaurants, shopping in the most expensive of boutiques and visiting the most fantastic countries, is an exceptional lifestyle for me, and I believe I well deserve it with the effort and dedication I put into making my clients time with me a fabulous one!

Now, as you know, I am not just a model escort; no, I have a brain, and I’m not afraid to use it. I love the intellect of some of my “friends”, and it’s not all about the glitz and glamour. But as soon as I head to the beautician and the hairdressers or to Selfridges to pick out some gorgeous couture, current events and world politics slip away and I am caught up in a world of coiffing, bronzing and Gucci.

What can I say, it’s a beautiful life!!

Posted in 24hr, Central London, City, Couples, GFE, Naughty, Outcall, Tagged Tags: , , , ,

I’m an escort get me out of here!!!!!

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Posted on byPosted bysuperadmin

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!

Posted in British, Central London, City, English, GFE, Naughty, New, Outcall, Tagged Tags: , , , ,

A Cocktail hour (or two)

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Posted on byPosted bysuperadmin

Apart from my ardour for champagne and sparkling expensive vintage, I do love Happy Hour at cocktail bars. With my 24hr London escort friends or with a client, there’s something immeasurably sexy about smooth cocktails blended in a clear glass.

So imagine my delight at being given the opportunity to sample free drinks at the Rib Room Bar on Sloane Street. With anything from a “Sloane Street Vesper” (with pink vodka and Gin) to a non-alcoholic “Cricket Tea” amid the luxury of long bars, high stools and a cigar bar for the discerning smoker. And all this with Kieran – my newest client, with bags of Sloane Square attitude.

Kieran speaks as though he has plums in his mouth and well he might seeing as he went to Eton and then to Oxford. Yet despite his impressive education (and inheritance!) he likes the playboy lifestyle and has no intention of making his mother proud and marrying a like-minded Sloane-Ranger. He likes his playboy lifestyle, to dress in fine Italian suits and his 24hr Companions. I am the third since New Year.

Kieran and I were greeted at the cordoned off area for the private party by Alexa, the PR executive organising the event. She handed us our first cocktail of the evening – something orange and smelling intoxicatingly of peach. As I sipped it, I took in my surroundings and became mesmerised by the barman shaking, pouring and mixing his way through the customers leaning on the bar. I was so impressed by his ability to recall recipes at will and charm the clientele that I almost forgot I was there for Kieran and not myself.

Once I had recovered my awe and admiration, I turned my attention to stroking Kieran’s bicep and his ego. I flattered him; made sure I got tipsy enough to giggle like a school-girl and then coquettishly suggested we ‘go back to his place for a night cap.’ We had been there a reasonable two and a half hours; enough to be photographed by the local press covering the event, get his name in column inches (not mine) and be seen by the right people.

And then we were off to Belgravia, chauffeur-driven with a bottle of Prosecco to drink on the way…

Posted in Agency, Baker Street, Busty, Cheap, City, Edgware Road, Girl On Girl, Ladies, Tagged Tags: , , , , ,

This could be magic…

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Have you ever seen a live magician at a party or show? I have often been entertained by would-be Derren Browns at weddings and occasion-birthday parties – even at the pub on a Tuesday night. I always say “oooh” and “ahhh”, and no matter how closely I look, I can never work out how they do it. In short, I love being impressed by someone who can do something I can’t.

I was introduced to Jerry at a friend’s anniversary gathering. He was sitting on the sofa in their Hampstead home, drinking coffee, shuffling a deck of cards with one hand. Jerry cut and flicked the cards over and under as I stood mesmerised. I didn’t even realise how rude I was being by staring, but I was entranced. He must have felt my eyes on his because he lifted his head and gave me a wide grin—something clenched in the pit of my stomach.

By the end of the evening, I had begged him to show me a few tricks and slightly fallen in love. His long, tapered fingers caressed the coins he vanished; the red foam ball that tripled in my clenched palms was sweaty with lust, and I fantasised about him making my underwear disappear with a wave of his hand. Brazen or not, I handed him my business card as he left and hoped to hear from him again.

I asked my friends about him, as you do, as soon as the door closed. They told me he worked the Kensington circuit and had been performing quietly for friends and family before being taken on by an agent in 2009. Although he wasn’t entirely up to David Copperfield’s standard, he could make things vanish before your eyes.

Well, I don’t want to be big-headed. I knew I would hear from him by today, and he rang me at 09.30m, wondering what I was up to. Was this a typical escort and client date or something purely personal? I didn’t want to throw my hourly rate into the mix, so I hoped he wanted to spend some time with me because I impressed him. We arranged to meet at the South Bank for lunch at 1.00 p.m. I wanted to wear something flowery and floaty, but that weather seems to have other ideas.

I feel nervous as I type this as I haven’t been on a date for myself in a long time. I don’t want a boyfriend, but I would like a new playmate who can teach me something to wow my social circle. It’s never too late to find him.

Posted in 24/7, Agencies, Busty, City, Naughty, New, Tagged Tags: , , , ,

Double take…

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Posted on byPosted bysuperadmin

Apart from my near-miss at Christmas with my auntie’s new boyfriend (who she’s still seeing and I’m still avoiding!) I haven’t been in any awkward situations where it’s been a case of ‘fight or flight’. I count myself lucky because yesterday I received a phone call from Tom asking me to meet him, as soon as I had an available slot, in Café Nero, Kings Road. As it turned out, my available slot was at 10am this morning but he was adamant it wasn’t a date; more an interview.

Dressed casually but in something to hint at my curves and assets, I chose a table by the window and a skinny latte to watch out for my date. For the first time in ages, I felt nervous. Promptly at 10am, a blonde man of around 25 entered the shop. My radar picked up on the eyes scanning the other customers and the absence of buying a coffee. I caught his eye and he came over, confirming who I was immediately. I liked his freckles and dimples and the essence of a man who spends a lot of his time on a rugby pitch. Anyway, my curiosity was piqued so I got straight down to business. What am I here for?

Tom explained that he was one of two brothers – twins. Jonathan was his mirror image but complete opposite and, for their 25th birthday, they wanted to hire a London escort (the same one) who would be up for something different. Thinking of my ghost-hunting weekend, I thought I’m just about up for anything as long as I’m not breaking the law. He looked at me earnestly and said “yes or no?”

We talked money and came to an amount that would be payable up front to cover the two dates. Tom made a call and I pencilled them in – one for Thursday and one for Friday. Then I got a flutter of butterflies wondering what on earth I was letting myself in for! How different can twins be, I wondered? For them to come up with something like this, they must be on opposite ends of the scale. Either that or they have planned the same two dates and I have to report back which twin I prefer. I can’t imagine I won’t be comparing them anyway. And it will be most interesting to discover whether they’re completely identical!

So that is the rest of my week taken care of – two hours with Tom tomorrow in Central London and a contrasting two hours with Jonathan goodness-knows-where on Friday – wish me luck.

Posted in Agencies, City, Fantasy, Incall, Tagged Tags: , , ,