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Couple escorts have become increasingly popular as more couples seek new ways to spice up their relationships. The traditional threesomes have fallen out of favour somewhat as they tend to instil feelings of insecurity and jealousy, especially when they involve a third party that the couple already know. In this escort appointment, there appear to be no such problems because the escort is entirely unknown to the couple personally. After the sexy affair, the couple need to have no further dealings.

We offer an exceptional selection of elite and captivating companions. Rest assured, the individuals you engage with are discreet, intelligent, and socially poised, prioritising your pleasure without seeking to establish any emotional connections. This reliability has made us a preferred choice for many couples looking to enhance their private lives.

A wide range of preferences to suit everyone’s tastes.

Our services cater to a wide array of preferences. Duo escorts are particularly suited for single men wishing to enjoy the attention of two beautiful women, with the focus primarily on them. In a couple’s appointments, the female partner typically receives the majority of attention from the escort, allowing the gentleman to revel in his partner’s enjoyment with another woman.

When an appointment is confirmed, the companion understands that the gentleman usually prefers a scenario where he watches his partner receive attention from the escort. Many men find it highly erotic to witness their partner with another woman, though this sentiment does not often apply in reverse situations.

Our companions are well aware of this dynamic and are dedicated to ensuring both partners have an enjoyable experience. Generally, the couple will indulge in each other’s desires, with the escort providing encouragement throughout. Following the appointment, no further contact occurs, allowing the couple to return to their everyday lives without emotional entanglements.

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Historically, although the term “sock” has ancient origins, the garments typically worn by men were often referred to as tights, particularly when discussing the longer hose that were fashionable at various times. This term was used to describe the lower part of the body, and by analogy, it referred to a one-piece covering for the lower trunk and limbs in the 15th century, which essentially consisted of tights made up of upper stocks and nether supplies, later worn separately as knee breeches and stockings, respectively.

So, if you have a fetish for stockings, look no further. All our fine young ladies will honour your wishes by wearing only the finest socks for your eyes.

An intriguing journey through time.

Before the 1590s, stockings were crafted from woven cloth, with the first knitting machines designed specifically for this purpose. The socks themselves were made from materials such as cotton, linen, wool, or silk, with polished cotton, known as lisle, being standard, along with those produced in Balbriggan.

The history of socks is a fascinating journey through time, showing how these simple garments have evolved and become a vital part of our daily lives. From ancient civilisations to modern fashion, socks have a story to tell that reflects cultural changes and innovative spirit.

Prior to the 1920s, women’s stockings were primarily worn for warmth. However, as hemlines rose during the 1920s, women began wearing socks to cover their exposed legs. These stockings were sheer and initially made from silk or rayon (then termed “artificial silk”); after 1940, nylon became prevalent. The first pantyhose emerged in the 1940s and 1950s, gaining popularity through film and theatre, where stockings were sewn to the briefs of actresses and dancers, as noted by actress Ann Miller in films like Daddy Long Legs.

In modern times, socks are commonly made from knitted wool, silk, cotton, or nylon. The introduction of pantyhose in 1959 provided a convenient alternative to stockings, resulting in a significant decline in sock usage. U.S. sales of stockings surpassed those of socks for the first time and have continued to do so. Although sales of stockings with suspender belts saw a slight decline due to the invention of hold-ups, they have remained popular.

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I am not at home because I am typing this from Italy. Lucky me!
My long weekend break, returning tomorrow morning, with Giovanni, started as “coffee soon?” and became “take your passport and meet me at Heathrow at 13:00 hours. Giovanni was born in the West End to Sicilian parents and emigrated there in 1990 before making his home somewhere between Tuscany and Paris. He has an ex-wife, five children, three dogs, a villa in the Tuscan countryside, and a mistress in Paris with one child. Before you ask how he manages to afford to keep them all, his six-figure salary seems to be that.

How do I fit in? Well, he does like to keep up appearances with the Italian social elite and to rub his ex-wife’s nose in the fact that he hasn’t lost touch with the ladies. Ex-Mrs. Giovanni is unaware of the Parisian mistress or the half-brother of her offspring, so I step in as the model girlfriend. I don’t mind; I love Italy, and I’m accustomed to being discreet.

So we came to Italy for proper coffee, ground from good coffee beans, in an authentic restaurant by an adequate barista. I used a small amount of Italian vocabulary on him – enough to say “grazie” – and flashed my most dazzling smile. Red-blooded Mediterranean men do like to feel appreciated by red-blooded British women! And how do I want my coffee? Well, I am partial to a cappuccino, but I prefer a latte – especially when it’s homegrown.

I discovered that the barista training is conveniently located right around the corner from the hotel. How exciting!

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Today, I am going to an Auction. Well, it was an early start. My right-hand man, Franco, was in Mayfair with a cardboard carrier of Americano coffees and some croissants to go. As I had my hair in a towel and my stress head on, this was a very welcome sight! My door was wedged open with a shoe – not being auctioned off – and some burly and tasty young men were moving in and out of it. Sometimes, I almost said, “Oh, not that one,” but Franco shook his head wordlessly at me, and I had to let them go.

And then we were off to Oxford Circus! I could feel the adrenaline as we watched the crates and rails being unloaded by a team of highly organised young women. I have no idea where they came from, but they had something to do with James and his abundant knowledge of fundraiser organisers. They treated me like royalty, and I could almost taste the palpable aura of garment lust. “If you want it, you’ll have to bid on it, darling, Franco said to one young, sexy blonde pawing a limited edition Pucci silk jacket.

At ten o’clock, the doors swung open to welcome the public. The rows of seats quickly filled, with assistants on the phone and buyers lining the edges of the warehouse. I recognised a few familiar faces from my usual spots in Kensington, Fulham, and Chelsea—some even gave me a thumbs up. My beautician was right at the front, ready to bid her life savings on one of my pink fur coats.

A cause truly worth supporting.

There was an electric buzz in the air, and then Franco introduced the cause—followed by my introduction! I was called to the front to say a few words; my mouth went dry, but I managed to get through it. After a wave of deafening applause, the auction began.

Money, amounting to tens, hundreds, and even thousands, flew around the warehouse. A pair of strappy Jimmy Choo shoes from SS07 sold for £900 within the first ten minutes! Scraps of silk, lace, satin, and feathers changed hands like hotcakes. A few Japanese girls in the audience were fiercely competing for Chanel and Chloe, and I thought things might get a bit heated at one point. Thankfully, James had the foresight to hire me some security guards for the day.

By 1:30 PM, it was all over. The cash tin was counted, and the cheques and credit card slips were bundled together. After checking three times, the total for my designer goods at auction was an astonishing £327,089! And no, I’m not joking. Keep in mind that my collection includes affluent clients and a selection of retro, authentic pieces; it’s still quite impressive!

Enjoy supporting St. Barnardo’s and SCOPE—two truly worthy causes!

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Women can indeed be manipulative—sometimes in subtle ways, even when they claim otherwise. My mother used to say, “Ask, and you shall receive; don’t ask, and you won’t want.” I have my doubts about that.

Let me set the scene for you…

This weekend, I spent a delightful day at Westfield Shopping Centre, just ten minutes from Paddington, with a charming companion. Surrounded by bustling shoppers and high-end boutiques, I managed to tick off several items on my shopping list, including some with Victor. I adore shopping dates, as they offer a refreshing change from my usual online shopping spree on Amazon.

There we were, fingers intertwined, arms laden with branded bags. Victor had insisted on visiting nearly every men’s clothing store (who says men aren’t particular?), while I found myself yearning for those stunning multi-coloured glitter stilettos from Kurt Geiger on level one. As he tried on his fiftieth jumper, I mentally justified the £150 price tag while calculating the remaining balance on my MasterCard.

Being attuned to the needs of others, I often step in before tensions rise, especially when Victor gets frustrated. I wanted those shoes, and he was ready for a change of scenery, so I suggested we pop into Pret a Manger, conveniently located on level one. The aroma of coffee and fresh sandwiches drew him in, and as we ascended the escalator, I figured we could pass my dream shoes in just 30 seconds after we refuelled.

A man with a full belly is a happy man – and a man open to bribery. Near the cafe was a huge Apple store with plenty of shiny laptops and iPads murmuring sweet nothings. Attention diverted from Fair Isle knitwear, Victor swung his hips through the door and took a lungful of Broadband. A London escort such as me must have patience as a virtue: the patience to accept her needs comes after those of her date. I watched Victor dribble over a MacBook Pro and counted down the minutes until I could lick the heel of that display shoe.

And then… a boom! Victor kissed my forehead and said, “Darling, you have been patient with me today. Let me buy a present for my beautiful girl. Shall we look at something for you?” I could have wept. “Oh, you don’t have to do that…” I said through my lashes. He made a pooh-pooh noise, and we fell into step… right past Kurt Geiger. And there they were… in the window, dazzling under the lights as I knew they would be… my shoes. Ten minutes later, I had a shiny gift bag dangling from my arm, and my date looked very pleased with himself as I let him “choose” a pair, though I can’t say product placement didn’t play a part.

Call me manipulative, then, if you want, but you can’t say that my gentleman friend wasn’t pleased to make me happy. The date had, as always, been about him and a trip to W12. I’m a big fan of West London, especially now that I know Kurt Geiger has a fantastic store there!