Category Archives: Companionship

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From a saucy French maid and a 50’s housewife working naked to a serving wench, I have been the most domesticated servant in some category. My clients seem to enjoy the sight of a scantily-clad sexy agency escort working in their home. I can’t think why…

However, the polite request to be a ‘washer-woman’ left me slightly dumbfounded. I wasn’t sure how to proceed, given that I don’t have muscly arms and a belly over my waistband. I had visions of some cartoon-esque dame a la Tom & Jerry, and I can’t say it did much for my libido or self-image. So, I asked what my client meant for the first time in ages.

This client was Henry, a divorced father of two in his mid-fifties. As a resident in the affluent area of Bayswater, Henry described himself as having a natural thing for water, especially water splashed all over the place on a willing participant. He asked me to wear white, tie my hair up and not to wear a scrap of makeup. With these instructions, I arrived right away at noon on Saturday and was ushered to a high-walled garden with an immaculately cut lawn. In the blazing sunshine, in the centre of the patio, was a wooden tub full of suds and, next to it, a scrubbing brush and board.

Henry was reclining on a sun lounger, sunglasses on, regarding me as I stood in the patio doorway. He waved me over and stretched out a hand. As he passed me a glass of Pimms, he explained that he wanted me to scrub the clothes in the tub and get soaking wet. “Plenty of splash, my dear! Give those old flagstones a soaking! And make sure you get it all down your front…”

Well, thank God for the small mercies of a brilliant sunny day. I hauled the sheets out of the suds and gave them a good going-over, slopping water everywhere and mostly over myself. My underwear went see-through, and Henry leaned forward. My top in his view to get a better look. I used my arm to brush my hair out of my eyes, soaking my face and letting it run down my neck. I figured I resembled a drowned rat, but Henry was delighted.

“Peg them on the line when you’re done, will you?” he called gleefully as I stood up to wring out my long white skirt. I was drenched and longing to lie in the sun to dry off. He chucked me a towel and invited me to do just that. Thankfully, his sun-trap garden had me drying off within twenty minutes, and I was able to chat a little about the job I’d done. “Splendid effort…” he said, beaming.”I will have to call you again!”

After changing clothes and getting a hair dryer, I went home to Mayfair to glam up for my evening date with Oscar. It just wouldn’t do to let too many people see me in that state; I have an image to uphold.

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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.

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Apart from my double take and 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 awkward situations where it’s been a ‘fight or flight’. I am 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 in Chelsea. As it turned out, my available slot was at 10 am this morning, but he was adamant it wasn’t a date but rather 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 10 am, a blonde man of around 25 entered the shop. My radar caught the eyes, scanning the other customers and not buying a coffee. I caught his eye, and he immediately came over to confirm who I was. I liked his freckles and dimples and the essence of a man who spends much of his time on a rugby pitch. Anyway, my curiosity was piqued, so I went to business. What am I here for?

Double the difference

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

We discussed money and came to an amount that would be payable upfront 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 I was letting myself in for on earth! How different can twins be? I asked. They must be on opposite ends of the scale to come up with something like this. Either that or they have planned the exact two dates, and I have to report 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.

Double take blog post

 

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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.

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Women can be manipulative—even those who say they aren’t having a more subtle approach to the art. As long as there is no element of de-masculation, where is the harm? My mother used to say, “Ask, don’t get; don’t ask, don’t want.” I disagree.

I’ll be sure to set the scene for you…

This weekend, I spent the day at Westfield Shopping Centre, ten minutes from Paddington, with a rather delicious companion named throngs of shoppers and designer stores; I managed to do a lot of my shopping Victor, among t. I love shopping dates because I usually don’t get to spend a day queuing among other commoners, preferring to “add to cart” on Amazon.

So there we were, fingers entwined, our arms full of branded carrier bags. Victor had dragged me into practically every man’s clothes shop there (who says men aren’t fussy?), and I was longingly thinking of Kurt Geiger up on level one. I desperately wanted to slip my foot into the multi-coloured glitter stilettos that had been whispering lovingly to me from the website. As he tried on his fiftieth jumper, I was mentally itemising my wardrobe to justify £150 while subtracting the balance of my MasterCard from my credit limit.

Sensitive to others’ needs, I am adept at situations before they get out of control and Victor gets frustrated. I wanted my shoes, and he wanted a change of scenery, so I suggested Pret a manger, which was “coincidentally” on level one. Smelling the lure of coffee and fresh sandwiches, Victor offered me a smile as we ascended the escalator, at diffusing a, and I mentally calculated that it would take 30 seconds to pass my beautiful shoes once we were nourished.

A man with a full belly is a happy man – and a man open to bribery. Near the cafe was a huge Apple store with plenty of shiny laptops and iPads murmuring sweet nothings. Attention diverted from Fair Isle knitwear, Victor swung his hips through the door and took a lungful of Broadband. A London escort such as me must have patience as a virtue: the patience to accept her needs comes after those of her date. I watched Victor dribble over a MacBook Pro and counted down the minutes until I could lick the heel of that display shoe.

And then… a boom! Victor kissed my forehead and said, “Darling, you have been patient with me today. Let me buy a present for my beautiful girl. Shall we look at something for you?” I could have wept. “Oh, you don’t have to do that…” I said through my lashes. He made a pooh-pooh noise, and we fell into step… right past Kurt Geiger. And there they were… in the window, dazzling under the lights as I knew they would be… my shoes. Ten minutes later, I had a shiny gift bag dangling from my arm, and my date looked very pleased with himself as I let him “choose” a pair, though I can’t say product placement didn’t play a part.

Call me manipulative, then, if you want, but you can’t say that my gentleman friend wasn’t pleased to make me happy. The date had, as always, been about him and a trip to W12. I’m a big fan of West London, especially now that I know where Kurt Geiger has a fantastic store!

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