Category Archives: Fantasy

How do you like your coffee?

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Posted on byPosted bysuperadmin

I am not at home because I am typing this from Italy, L.cky me!!!
My long weekend break, returning tomorrow morning, with Giovanni, started as “coffee soon?” and became “take your passport and meet me at Heathrow at 13:00 hours. Giovanni was born in London’s West End to Sicilian parents and emigrated there in 1990 before making his home somewhere between Tuscany and Paris. He has an ex-wife, five children, three dogs in a villa in the Tuscan countryside and a mistress in Paris with one child. Before you ask how he manages to afford to keep them all, his six-figure salary seems to be that.

How do I fit in? Well, he does like to keep up appearances with the Italian social elite and to rub his ex-wife’s nose in the fact that he hasn’t lost touch with the ladies. Ex Mrs Giovanni doesn’t know about the Parisian mistress or the half-brother of her offspring, so I step in as the model girlfriend. I don’t mind, I love Italy, and I am used to being discreet.

So we came to Italy for proper coffee, ground from good coffee beans, in an authentic restaurant by an adequate barista. I used a small amount of Italian vocabulary on him – enough to say “grazi” – and flashed my most dazzling smile. Red-blooded Mediterranean men do like to feel appreciated by red-blooded British women! And how do I like my coffee? Well, I am partial to a cappuccino, but I do prefer a latte – especially when it is homegrown.

And I discovered that barista training is right around the corner from the hotel. How exciting!

Posted in British, Central London, English, Fantasy, GFE, Role Play, West End, Tagged Tags: , , , , , ,

London’s Soho

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Posted on byPosted bysuperadmin

I love the whole Gay scene around the Capital. Although I don’t see a lot of gay men in my line of work, I wander through Soho, inhaling the vibe and the atmosphere with a smile.

And it was at G-A-Y that I met Lucas. Just for once, I had Saturday night free to sashay with my girlfriends among the queens of London. Tight tops, designer sunglasses and skinny jeans abound (and that was the men!). The crowd spilled out onto the pavement.

Soho is recognised more for its pubs, bars, nightspots and the fabulous West End than the seedy sex trade. We danced through the lanes to all the tunes carried along with the evening breeze, slightly intoxicated. And there in the shadows, I saw him.

Average height but better than average build, he was standing, looking bored with a cigarette burning at his fingertips. As we passed him, he took a drag from it, and something in me tingled. I persuaded the girls to stop ‘for a drink’, which worked because nobody spotted him but me. And quite a good job, too as I was, with many of my fellow delicious 24-hour escorts. What he was doing at one of the campest gay haunts in Soho, I do not know, but my Gaydar didn’t start beeping, so I thought I was OK. I looked at him over my shoulder as we stood in the queue, and he winked at me.

“What’s your name?” I mouthed. He responded with Lucas. I like to get straight to the point; maybe it’s my profession. There is no point skipping around the obvious for hours. I fancied him; I let him know it.

I liked the fact we were an ordinary boy and girl meeting by chance on a Saturday night. I also liked I hadn’t set this date up in advance and wanted to be me for a little while. Lucas had no expectations of me, and it was worth a kiss in a dark corner if nothing else!

Posted in 24hr, Bisexual, Central London, Duo, Escorts, Fantasy, Fetish, West End, Tagged Tags: , , , ,

My amazing dates

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Posted on byPosted bysuperadmin

Okay, I think everything that happened in New York has just about sunk, so I can share it without getting overexcited and adding the word ‘squeal’ after every paragraph! Jim and I had a brief gap whilst I was in a bar with another client and how he promised me the world, and I fell for it hook, line and sinker. His arrogance and boldness were attractive; speaking to me while my date stood 10 feet away was exciting. I see my job as two a   pure ansimplega profession which keeps me in a life of great acquaintances and superb shoppitripsp. Still, every so often, a client will pop up who makes it feel like an actual date – in terms of excitement or emotion or emotion-do not to confuse the two.

So, Jim gave me a little background on himself as he waited for me patiently in my Mayfair apartment as I hunted for my passport. At 46, Jim had pretty much conquered the world of media and had set up publishing houses in London and around the globe, one which saw him net billions in profit a year. He resides mainly in Belgravia (of course) but spends a lot of time in New York without a female companion who floated his boat. He told me he knew while waiting for my champagne to be served that I was something different even by watching my eyes scanning the room, drinking in the other sights and sounds of the wealthy and more affluent more prosperous as told not to pac,k a thing which in my world is bizarre. As a London escort, I have many beautiful dresses, sexy underwear and Louboutins to thrill and excite my clients and that I feel very comfortable in, but he told me not to worry about them. I did, however, contest my make-up bag as when you’re spending 6-7 hours on a plane, a lady likes to freshen up, don’t you know!

So, we went to the airport and bypassed the usual passenger traffic to be ushered to his private and most luxurious jet I have ever had the pleasure of flying on. The pilot and crew were happy, and I should think so too, being that their boss paid them handsomely and treated them with the utmost respect the second we boarded. Usually, I not only crack on the charm for my client and those around me, but Jim was already so attentive that I barely had time to lift the corners of my mouth into a smile in the greeting of the stewardess handing me a glass of my favourite bubbles when Jim gave me the usual envelope of payment and told me that he already knew how worth it I was and that the next couple of days were all about me. I looked confused, so he told me my reputation precedes me, and he would be my Super elite with a twist.

Okay, I feel a squeal coming on; I can’t wait!!!

Posted in English, Fantasy, Tagged Tags: , , , ,

Blending in

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Posted on byPosted bysuperadmin

Sometimes, when a client requests something very different for them to enjoy, nine times out of 10, it is very different for their escort, too.

Jacob is a very successful and talented songwriter and is constantly jetting off around the world on business meetings and hooking up with artists at their swanky homes or hired venues. He tells me this is all well and good, and he gets to visit some beautiful places, but sometimes he wants to let his hair down and go. Being as successful as he is, Jacob only has a little time off, and when he does, he always makes sure he books some girlfriend experience time with his favourite escort. This usually entails hanging out at his vast Belgravia mansion, just chilling together and doing “normal couple” things before he jets off to New York, Paris, or wherever else the A and R lot tells him to go.

So, with a rare three days off, Jacob has asked me to accompany him to a club in Central London and told me to check my e-mail for an essential list of requirements for his favourite escort. I will tell you that when I read it, I headed straight out the door for an extraordinary shopping trip.

Jacob had requested that we go to a mainstream club, with no VIP or guest list, and blend into the crowd, but blend in with me dressed as any other woman in the club…

Now, this may seem simple, but Jacob insists that I adhere to the high street trends of today, complete with hair extensions, fake tan and lots of bling. I am all for dressing up and having a laugh, but I was stumped for ideas on how to blend in when I am more than used to clubs in the VIP section dressed in my usual designer gear and being coiffed to perfection.

I am far from a snob, and usually, I don’t mind where I go or what I wear, but when you’re going to a mainstream club and under the watchful eye of so many others, I know I have to get my look spot on. Cue internet searches and glossy magazine scouring.

Remember I told you, whatever my client wants (within reason), they get, and I’m sure my TOWIE makeover just about fits into the within reason category…

Posted in Central London, Escort, Fantasy, GFE, Outcall, Tagged Tags: , , ,

Food for thought…

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Posted on byPosted bysuperadmin

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 London 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!

Posted in British, Central London, Couples, Fantasy, Fetish, Knightsbridge, Naughty, Tagged Tags: , , , ,