Tag Archives: date

A Day at the Races

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Posted on byPosted bysuperadmin

I love going to the races. Something is exciting about Royal Ascot and Ladies Day (I have tickets this year for 21st June!) in a wide-brimmed-hat-and-suede-shoes kind of way. Half the fun (apart from betting) is celebrity spotting and seeing who came the best and worst dressed. The tabloids can’t possibly love it half as much as I do.

Tomorrow, I am off to Epsom in Surrey for a private hospitality event. I’m being chauffeured there and back by Clive, my well-to-do horsey friend. Clive and his friends breed thoroughbred racehorses and race them publicly and privately for vast sums of money. Put it this way: I couldn’t put a “tenner on each way” in that circuit.

Clive and I met at Newmarket last August. I was sipping Pimms with a group of fellow 24-hour Companions. We weren’t drawing attention to ourselves in any way, but, as if magic, the waiter came over and presented us with three bottles of champagne. As we followed his gaze across the room, we spotted a group of gentlemen (a direct ratio of them to us) laughing and joking together. One of them raised a glass to us, and we waved gaily back. Within ten minutes, we chatted away like old friends and went to dinner with them back in London at Wild Honey on St George’s Street. Each of us was spoilt rotten, and Clive seemed to take a shine to me. Although we don’t spend a lot of time together, if he needs a dazzling brunette on his arm for an event, I get a call. In the interim, I learned a few horse-racing terms and tips that put me in good stead should anyone ever question me. It’s all about learning, you see?

With my well-educated client, I am sure to put on a few bets that will come up trumps for me, and Clive certainly knows that he has a certain chance with me.

So if you needed a special call girl in London to go to the races with you, our ladies certainly know how to dress in their finery, which will never look out of place; they will turn heads with their beauty and sophistication and maybe give you some luck at the races?

Posted in 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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Posted on byPosted bysuperadmin

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: , , , ,

Feeling Feisty

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Posted on byPosted bysuperadmin

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!

Posted in 24hr, British, Clerkenwell, Fulham, Naughty, Role Play, 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: , , ,