Tag Archives: fun

Food for thought…

.
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: , , , ,

This could be magic…

.
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: , , , ,

Business and Pleasure

.
Posted on byPosted bysuperadmin

You would think I’d never be lonely or have the ability to remember everyone’s names, given the number of people I socialise with within a week. You’d be wrong. I have some clients who are a one-hit-wonder, a flash in the pan. And then there are my regulars who see me on a specific day or week of the month and treat me as they would a long-distance girlfriend. These are the ones I miss and the ones I organise my life around. And one of these gentlemen is Jake.

Jake is American and flies over every month from Chicago. He owns 50% of a web design company that has a studio on each side of the Atlantic, and he takes it in turn with his business partner to fly out every two weeks – which is where I come in. On roughly the 1st and 15th of the month, I get the girlfriend treatment. Jake and I spend one of the days as an in-call (my apartment usually) catching up, dining on take-out and re-familiarising ourselves until the wee hours. The other day is a proper date – we go into The West End, catch a show and dine late into the evening on Steak and Chips in Leicester Square. I always make sure I wear a skirt and heels as Jake prefers the feminine look on women, and jeans don’t do it for him. I came to realise this during a rather emotional solo in Les Miserables a few months back – except Jake’s hand had snaked under my hem, but his eyes were straight ahead!

So anyway – it dawned on me I would be seeing Jake next Thursday, which is a few days earlier than it is usually. Which also made me wonder what I could do to wind him up between now and then. There’s no point in writing him a letter or texting him – but Skype allows for video calling, and I did have a brand new set of lingerie that had come from La Perla’s Vintage Limited range. I know I know, I said I wouldn’t put any more tiny bras and knickers into my underwear drawer… but they were begging me to buy them, and all that black lace came with a matching shrug. It would have been criminal to refuse.

So I sent Jake an email telling him to meet me on Skype at 10 pm GMT (allowing for the six hours time difference), arranged myself on my bed, hair over my shoulders and told him, “I hope you realise what you’re missing…” That man didn’t know what hit him. Thank goodness we were alone on our computers, and he had blinds in his office because things got pretty steamy after that, and I retired to bed with a naughty grin on my face. Poor Jake had to finish a day’s work distracted beyond anything (he said) he had known before.

So now I’m looking forward to our subsequent encounter and I think I’ll meet him at Heathrow Airport as a surprise. It may be a professional relationship when you strip it back, but there’s nothing quite like mixing business with pleasure.

Posted in Central London, English, Fantasy, Naughty, West End, Tagged Tags: , , , , , , ,

For the love of chocolate…

.
Posted on byPosted bysuperadmin

I love chocolate. Show me a woman who doesn’t, but when your date is obsessed with “playing” with the sweet stuff, you get sick of it.

Haz is a regular of mine who loves to get up close and personal covered in milk dark and white chocolate. Our first get-together was in his presidential suite at his Kensington Hotel. He owns the building and lives there, and his penthouse is most spectacular. We went out for dinner, and he wined and dined me like I hadn’t been in a long time. It almost felt like an actual date where the male of the species feels he has to wow and impress his female companion. We ate and laughed and danced when no one else was, and he promised me more dates like this. His apparent penchant for brunette escorts has preceded him, and I had heard from his other elite favourites that if he likes you, he will buy you jewels and treat you like a princess. Still, if you take his fancy, he will let you see his secret room in his humble (cough) abode.

Haz is so camp in his attire and furnishings you would almost assume he is gay, but let me assure you, he certainly isn’t. I was lucky enough to play my own wooing game and snagged myself a few treats from some gorgeous couture boutiques in Chelsea, and then we stumbled across a very well-known but cheaper store to purchase some nice but VERY inexpensive undies. I wondered why we were buying these frilly smalls in under a fiver, but it wasn’t until I saw the secret room covered in plastic sheeting and the bowls of chocolate sauce that I realised that we would be throwing anything we started off wearing away.

So, dinner and no dessert led to drinks and the intention of coffee back at his home, which soon led to “we weren’t coming back for coffee, let’s visit the playroom” for some choccy fun.

On went the polyester set, and out came the choccy weapons. It was fun, but I swear I’m still cleaning out the fruit and nut from places it really shouldn’t have gone…

Our London companions know how to have fun, so if you fancy some fun and frolics mixed in with a bit of chocolate, then why not give us a call? And we can hook you up with one of our flirty females, which will make you forget yourself for a few hours – or even longer!! You only live once, so give us a try, and you’ll be hooked!

Posted in Brunette, Central London, Escorts, Fetish, Naughty, Tagged Tags: , , , ,

I’m in charge…

.
Posted on byPosted bysuperadmin

I have so many faces as a 24-hour Companion that sometimes I think I have a split personality! Only some of my clients want to see the girlie me or have the GFE. Oh no. Some hire my services for a more specialised flavour of date. Some like their duo escorts and fantasies and role-play fun, too…

London is full of diverse tastes and preferences, especially in the city, where the pace of life is always the same. If you were to stand still near London Bridge for a moment and watch the commuters, the speed at which they think and travel is quite alarming. But among the suits and briefcases lie many secrets – I know I hold a few of them close to my chest.

It never ceases to amaze me how people become aroused by taboo subjects. I research something thoroughly before I take on a new challenge – just as one would revise before an important exam. I won’t get a second chance to impress so I can be in front of my laptop for hours the night before. I prefer a few days’ notice to buy props and costumes, although many clients provide me with the entire ensemble to make the process smoother. Most of these men are married but can’t express their fantasies to their wives. I’m more than happy to fulfil a role – it’s another string to my bow.

So, with all that simmering nicely in your mind, I must turn your attention to Geoff. From the outside, Geoff is your average 50-something family man. However, he comes to my Mayfair flat on a Wednesday afternoon (usually when he has told his secretary he will be on a long lunch) and cleans my flat for me dressed in his Y-fronts and a gingham pinafore. I yell at him every so often, humiliating him if his housework isn’t to my exact specification and call him a useless idiot. He has provided me with a black PVC catsuit and thigh-high boots; my hair must be scraped severely back into a high ponytail, and my lips are glossed blood red. He isn’t allowed to look me in the eye and must always call me “Madam”. I always carry a riding crop with me and occasionally give him a whip when the fancy takes me. I can be spiteful, but he seems to like it more when I cause him to yelp.

Geoff’s 90 minutes are usually up when my bathroom is sparkling and my kitchen floor scrubbed. He puts his suit back on, picks up his briefcase and kisses my cheek. If there is time, I may even make him a cup of tea, and he gives me a rundown of what his kids are doing at school. I find the whole scenario pretty surreal, but it makes him happy, and we never discuss it once it’s over.

Erotic humiliation can take on many forms. There are London clubs that specialise in it and are open till very late. Arriving at midnight would guarantee four hours of fun, should that be your thing. I’ve visited them a few times (as a guest as you have been a member) to watch, and what an eye-opener! Imagine a basement divided into rooms, each with a different theme. So there you are – I’m not such a pretty, prim miss after all! Remember, I’m paid to be the ideal date – whatever form it may come in.

Posted in Couples, Duo, Escorts, Fantasy, Fetish, GFE, Girl On Girl, Naughty, Role Play, Tagged Tags: , , , ,