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Want more escort date Ideas? Today, we will be focusing on a date that is a perfect icebreaker before taking the date to a more intimate environment for some steamy fun. Harvey Nichols offers a splendid opportunity to have fun and get to know your chosen companion while enjoying great pleasure. As many of you will know who have been there, The Harvey Nichols Fifth Floor Champagne Bar is excellent and provides a gorgeous backdrop for this date idea. The bar has a fresh and fun ambience; the floral décor combines perfectly with the curvy furniture and upholstery. It is for these reasons that so much of the upper echelons of London decide to visit the bar for its iconic and glamorous theme.

The date idea in question is the Harvey Nichols Cocktail Master Class; it is slightly different and immediately gets you into the spirit of things and cuts any tension in two. One of the main draws to this idea is the class host, Stani Visciano, a genuinely lovely guy who is an absolute charmer. Overly chatty with the gents, he also pays plenty of attention to the ladies, something that all of our elite London escorts love. A very interactive affair, it allows you to bask in the beauty of your chosen companion as she showcases her stuff and shows you the bubbly personality that is so infectious.

The best bit about the experience, in our opinion, is when you’re invited to get behind the glamorous circular bar to concoct your very own cocktail. It is a lot of fun for yourself as you let the entertainer in yourself come out, but the best thing is still to come. Watching your glamorous escort go behind and work her magic will give you a real thrill as you know all eyes in the room are on your girl. After the group cocktail-making class, the experience becomes a little more intimate, and now the ice has been broken, you can get down to the business of getting to know your escort over dinner, which is included in the price of the class. We also recommend a stroll through Hyde Park afterwards for an added element of romance before checking into one of many local hotels to finish your date off with some intimate fireworks

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Historically, even though the word sock is at least as ancient in origin, what men typically wore were often referred to as tights, probably mainly when referring to the longer hose at times when they were the fashion for men. The word was used to refer to the bottom “stump” part of the body. By analogy, the term was used to refer to the one-piece covering of the lower trunk and limbs of the 15th century—essentially tights consisting of the upper stocks (later to be worn separately as knee breeches) and nether supplies (later to be worn independently as stockings).

Before the 1590s, stockings were made of woven cloth. The first knitting machines were for making stockings. The socks themselves were made of cotton, linen, wool or silk. Polished cotton called lisle was standard, as were those made in Balbriggan.

Before the 1920s, women’s stockings, if worn, were worn for warmth. In the 1920s, as women’s dresses’ hemlines rose, they wore socks to cover their exposed legs. These stockings were sheer, first made of silk or rayon (then known as “artificial silk”), and after 1940 of nylon. The first pantyhose appeared in the 1940s and 1950s, when film and theatre productions had stockings sewn to the briefs of actresses and dancers, according to actress-dancer Ann Miller and seen in popular films such as Daddy Long Legs. Today, socks are commonly made using knitted wool, silk, cotton or nylon. The introduction of pantyhose in 1959 provided a convenient alternative to stocks, and the use of socks declined dramatically. U.S. sales of stockings exceeded stockings for the first time and have remained this way ever since. BegIn87, sales of the hose with a suspender belt started slightly declining due to the newly invented hold-ups, but it remained a sold sock.

So, if you have a fetish for stockings, look no further than 24-hour Companions, where all our fine young ladies will honour your wishes by wearing only the finest socks for your eyes.

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I so love my mobile phone. There’s an App for everything these days, just as the adverts tell us, and I have yet to find one that doesn’t. I’m addicted to everything electronic and sleeping as it is, so my Smartphone is just the icing on the cake. As I’ve previously said, I can’t live without my trusty Filofax, but you can’t send someone something racy from the A5 pages of a notebook.

When I get a new client (or tending to the needs of a regular), I always take their phone number down so we can smooth out the finer points of our date. Whether it is by voice or text, I’m available. This also means that I can wind them up throughout the hours preceding the date if they so wish – which is precisely what Rob asked me to do before our date on Sunday.

I was instructed to whip him into a frenzy with some truly saucy text and MMS messaging. So I flexed my digits, limbered up my right wrist and got to work. The camera quality on my phone is pretty good for what it is. isSomeme mobile phones boast 12 megapixels and a flash, but mine works in HD. I’m not bragging; I’m just saying. This works even more to my advantage when I need to send video over the airwaves… I thought I’d sneak a few pictures in of me in my most revealing cream satin lingerie (Rob stipulates he likes lace rather than leather) with some smooth skin visible. It’s. Titled “Guess the body part?”

I also thought I’d spice things up a little by taking a walk through Knightsbridge, snapping a few landmarks for authenticity – and then casually throw in that I was sitting in a quiet cafe daring to take pictures down my tp while sipping a latte. It’s all about titillation rather than seeing it all at once – there would be plenty of time for that in the evening on our date. Rob said he wanted to spoil me by booking us a table at Marco in Chelsea. This is one of the few London restaurants I haven’t been to regularly, and I was looking forward to sampling their delights again. I was especially looking forward to sending him a text while demurely looking at the menu, reading: I’ve dropped my fork; you’d best get under the table and look for it.

I deliberately use words and phrases that reek of double innuendos. I think the best way to man’s heart is to make him laugh at my brazen cheekiness and cause him to feel twitchy in the trouser area, but not enough to be noticeable. I want him to grab me and tell me, close to my ear, that I’ve been driving him mad all day. That’s passion. Couple that with a tight pencil skirt that shows off my bottom and a neckline just low enough to make him wonder… I know how to work the system.

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So, it hasn’t escaped my attention that my apartment building in Mayfair has its fair share of resident Arabs. This has proved a bit tricky in the past with client-on-client run-ins in my building, but it has also meant an abundance of new clients right at my doorstep.

Though I am a very discrete London escort, I have been approached while locking my front door to ask what services I provide. It has been more luck than them working on the fact. I leave and enter my home looking more than perfectly coiffed and manicured. The expensive clothes I adorn are not to be mistaken for anything other than lining the body of a model who knows her labels.

Some chance encounters have been a very wealthy businessman’s hired help handing me their gold embossed business cards showing me their master’s work address boasting a skyscraper view from Canary Wharf or private offices in Chelsea, with a number to call for personal appointments. My reply to most of these slip-of-the-hand meets is to slip them my 24-hour London escort card right back. They can work for my hand rather than me chasing a new client.

After going through the correct channels to book my time, I was satisfied when the final details were agreed upon and always sat. I have always described my work ethic as being a chameleon, and behind closed doors with specific nationality clients, I can be whatever they want me to be, and when accompanying them to Dubai or not even out of London,

I can be demure and discrete and worth every penny!

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The best nights out are when you must wait for the venue. London holds mystery whether you are going somewhere as mainstream as Chelsea or somewhere lesser known for its nightlife like Sloane Square. My clients live in the more popular areas of the city, and I do like to travel around the capital and see how they live in the uber-posh Belgravia or even my neighbours in Kensington. Not only do my clients live in some gorgeous places, but they know some gorgeous people, and Franc likes to mix quite literally with those attractive others.

So, back to my date in a venue just given out as ‘TBC’. Franc told me the genre, and I love fetish parties with a twist. It got me as excited as the first time Franc ever saw his favourite escort in leather with my hair in pigtails. The beauty of the fetish with a twist is to understand that it’s not all dungeons and underground madness; it’s about following the correct etiquette and thoughtful respect for what you are taking part in.

Some of Franc’s friends hold themed parties in their trendy Kensington apartments, and he has taken me along a few times to get into the swing of things before we hit public gatherings. The good thing about being an open-minded 24-hour escort is that nothing fazes me, and just as well seeing that it’s most certainly a case of ‘what happens in private(s), stays private’. It sounds like my personal elite escort oath…other than sharing my tales of debauchery with you.

Hedonism is, I think, ironically derived from a very playful word meaning “delight”. Believing that you should benefit from anything delightful and pursue pleasure to its fullest is what it’s all about in the beautiful world of anything. What an utterly fabulous way to express yourself as well. I always look forward to pencilling Franc in.

So, should I mix leather and pearls or latex and diamonds? I know… I may blend Franc and his friend Ray.