My perfect date…

Rob was six foot one and had the perfect body, toned and ripped in all the right places. He was every girl’s prince charming. Rob had the whole package when it came to the perfect man. He had great looks and charisma and was hugely successful. Most would probably wonder why he’d chosen to go to an escort in London for satisfaction, considering he could easily pick a girl up at any bar he walked into. Unfortunately for every woman falling in love with Rob, he had a specific type of woman and a few particular needs they usually couldn’t fulfil. I, on the other hand, happen to be just what he’s looking for.

Rob has always been a guy who likes to live a flavour-filled life, and this carries on into his choice of women. Being from Russia and having flame-red hair first drew him to me. He told me the second he set eyes on my picture, relaxing in a chair in only my lacy emerald green lingerie that he felt things he hadn’t felt in a long time. He told me he sat and stared at that picture, and every so often, he still looks at it, too. I know it took him a little while to pluck up the courage to call me, but I’m glad he did. He’s my favourite clie; he gets me excited in ways no other man does, and I know I call him just as excited, too…I can certainly see it through his tight jeans, anyway. He tells me I’m a lot sexier than my pictures, and I have to say that many of my clients say the same.

Finding out a bit about my clients before I meet them always helps me prepare, and I’m glad I did before I met Rob. He had me assume a company instead of an interposition bed, not something all my clients get me to do, but I’m very open-minded, so I like to try new things. He stood back and took me in, admiring every inch of my naked body. I loved every second of it, but the second he put his hands on me, it blew my mind. His soft fingers traced my thighs, turning me on and putting me in the perfect mood for a passionate night. The way he kissed me, his tongue around mine…all of it made me feel like I would lose myself in him, and the night had only just begun.

From then on, the night was just insane. We spent every second wrapped around each other, sweaty and breathless…my favourite way to work up a sweat. Just one night with me, I proved to him that turning to me for affection was the best decision he could have made. Now, every time he has a spare evening in London and feels the need to be satisfied in ways he knows only I can, he calls. When I hear his name, I always do my best to make myself accessible, too. What can I say? I must give him precisely what he needs.

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