Tag Archives: professional

.
Posted on byPosted bysuperadmin

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.

Posted in Business, Companionship, Tagged Tags: , ,
.
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 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 Safety Tips, Tagged Tags: , , ,
.
Posted on byPosted bysuperadmin

With the World Cup well underway, we can expect many of our clients to be watching each game closely, and our escorts may feel a little left out, as football has overtaken some of our client’s lives for a short while, but to our companions, it can seem like a lifetime. That is why we are open 24 hours a day, so when your match has finished at whatever hour, you can still have fun with our top girls. You may want to celebrate your win, or you may feel a little deflated, so that is where an exotic beauty comes into play for whatever mood you are in.

Of course, you could be one of that gentlemen who doesn’t care for the beautiful game. Well, you will be in luck this ‘ World Cup season’ as we will have many girls who like to ‘avoid’ football just as much as you do. It may be hard to be utterly oblivious to it. Still, at least you can lock yourselves away and watch ‘old movies’ and generally have a fantastic time together while everybody else outside is going ‘crazy’ for football!!

If you are still ‘football mad’ and can’t quite get enough – but ladies are a close second, why not organise a little adult football party? Imagine the scene where you have booked a beautiful hotel suite, all your friends are around to see the game, spirits are high, and your team is doing well. With all the high spirits going on, you book some exquisite London companion to come to your suite and make your party last longer and indeed even more enjoyable – our girls could wear your favourite team colours and parade in some naughty lingerie and blow your whistle at half time – now that’s worth thinking about?

So why not look and see which girls could come over to your party? We have girls of all nationalities, which you could mix and match and place on whatever team you wanted, and you can teach them all about the offside rule, but our girls never play foul!!!

So remember, don’t forget you can still have fun with our girls this World Cup. Call us, and we can do all the work for you and organise some fun half-time.

Posted in Business, Dating Tips, Recommendations, Tagged Tags: , ,
.
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 Recommendations, Tagged Tags: , , ,
.
Posted on byPosted bysuperadmin

Rule number one of being a top escort is discretion. Conduct yourself professionally while maintaining closeness with the client to make him feel he is your number one. In other words, please don’t make him think he has paid for your time; instead, allowing him to do so is an honour. It also helps if you enjoy your job, which I do.

Sometimes, I tie myself in knots, being secretive about my job, especially regarding my family. Being vague is tiring because I can never quite remember what lies I’ve told. My mum and dad still believe I’m in PR, although my brother is suspicious. He doesn’t know any London PR executive with a wardrobe as vast or expensive as mine. I tell him I have some high-profile customers who regularly send samples to our offices. He has been to my apartment but never strayed further than my front room – I don’t want him stumbling across the boudoir any time soon!

There are also the concierge and Maître D’s that keep secrets. Bear in mind I have been to plenty (if not most) of the celebrity restaurants, five-star casinos and high-class hotels across the capital. Those who take their job seriously (and have been doing it twice as long as I have been alive) merely nod or pretend they’ve never seen me before. This usually applies to Claridges or The Ritz, where reputation is everything. These men know what goes on, but they never say anything; they keep their cards played close to their chests. The younger ones who don’t care too much give me a cheeky wink or pass me a note with their mobile number in case I need anything. I have taken them up on the offer a few times when I’ve been in dire straits or encountered something unexpected. It’s never what you know, but who?

Being a top escort, I have hundreds of secrets in my head that belong to dozens of men who trust me. They tell me things they wouldn’t say to their wives, girlfriends, mothers or friends. I tell myself it makes me privy to a world, not many women get to see. They long to buy them wisps of French lace and other satin in any other than white to wear anywhere besides the bedroom. As they pour this lingerie into my lap and I parade it around for them, I can’t help but feel sorry for the women missing out. When we act out a fantasy together or meet on the steps of The Andaz for a 5-star experience, I feel like the princess they wish they were treating.

To feel feminine and desired is the biggest secret of all.

Posted in Lifestyle, Recommendations, Safety Tips, Tagged Tags: ,