Horror dates

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I won’t lie… I wouldn’t say I like scary films. Something makes my brain work overtime, and I get carried away and lost in my “what if” fantasies or complete nightmares! I have always loved a good old-fashioned rom-com or sci-fi film. Nothing comes creeping out from behind you in your bathroom, and kids don’t suddenly become possessed and turn demonic as the sun goes down. I grew up in the leafy and child-friendly borough of Hampstead. I attended school with other generally lovely children and their parents, whom I know would never let them watch anything scarier than Count Duckula!!

Jeff is my client for the day and night, requesting the pleasure of his sexy blonde escort to give him some good old girlfriend experience, and has asked me to come over to his house in Belgravia to eat dinner and watch films. Jeff is a 40-something gazillionaire, and he most certainly likes all his mod cons: colossal plasma screen and surround sound. He has told me that he wants to play a real chivalrous man and woman in a relationship where said man and woman watch terrifying films, and the man looks after the woman as she nestles into his shoulder for protection. Bless him for wanting to wave his you-know-what around and hold me in his big, muscly arms, but I am quite frankly terrified. I told him this was a great idea and I would bring extra popcorn in my best enthusiastic tone. Still, inside, I was already screaming into my pillow at the mere thought of the fangs, creaking doors and candles being blown out by some genuinely horrifying unidentified thing.

I never refuse any challenge or date suggested by my clients, as you well know, but I can honestly say I was so close. Closer than the time Bob took me shopping outside of London on a high street with just a QS and a C&A knockoff shop. You can also imagine my disgust when he told me we were going out for dinner in the West End (cue me perking up) to be taken to a fast food job down a side street.

Okay, nothing will be as wrong as that… bring on the screams of terror…yikes!

Magical moments

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Okay, winter weddings, summer weddings, Spring weddings, autumn weddings… whatever month you choose to celebrate your magical day. NOTE: I don’t find them magical! I have been to so many weddings. I have been in enough awful bridesmaid’s dresses and themed weddings to last me a lifetime. I’m not cynical. I can see the romance and dedication of the betrothed couple and the love that they share, but I am a busy lady! I think more of “save the date” cards being “save the date for a great trip to New York”.

So imagine my horror when Rich requested the pleasure of my company for his colleagues’ big day at the Ritz London: black tie and ball gown shindig.

I have plenty of beautiful dresses and designer shoes so don’t worry about what I will wear. It’s the thought of all these people acting like they have just been invited to this day to celebrate “Hello” magazine style and not care what the occasion is. But I will play the perfect beautiful escort companion and not let Rich out of my sight.

His only request for me is to play out the girlfriend experience and be attentive and then accompany him back to his penthouse suite for a night that will not reflect the romance and magic of a wedding but to be whomever he wants me to be, which is usually exciting and in some ways very sordid. That’s when the fun begins, and the work stops. I don’t find it challenging to act out any scenario a man wants in the bedroom. I have enough experience with all kinds of men and women to know what works and what doesn’t. Also, the old saying of the customer is always right. I believe a brilliant escort in London must’ve made it up.

My clients know from my fabulous escort profile on the website what I do or don’t like to partake in, so there is never any confusion regarding wants or needs. If it says I’m up for anything, then who am I to disappoint?

So, being a professional model and doting girlfriend, I know how important it is to be with a man as their partner should they request it. I know to laugh at my colleague’s unfunny jokes and be charming and intelligent when right.

But get me to the church on time. It isn’t when we return to the safety net of the two of us after hours, and he will not be disappointed with our own “magic”. Thank you!

Business and Pleasure

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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.

Dance the night away…

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Have I ever mentioned how much I love to dance? Whether it’s a slow bump ‘n’ grind or a quick Foxtrot in a shimmering ball gown – I’m your woman. I have no professional training; I happen to have visited some pretty extravagant places where dancing is the order of the day, and my partner happens to love it, too.

This weekend, I have a late evening date with Jack, a professional dancer and choreographer. At the moment, he is in the West End, finishing up a run on ‘Dreamboats and Petticoats’ before heading back to New York. Despite his American good looks and piercing brown eyes, Jack doesn’t have a regular girlfriend, so he calls on me whenever he is in town – which tends to be once a season or every nine months, depending on how you look at it. I always have a fantastic time with him as he can gain us entry into all the top nightclubs or VIP treatment at a Wrap Party.

Above all else, Jack has a fantastic body as well as snake hips to match. His whirls, twirls and grinds with me till I’m sweating and begging him to take me home for some bed dancing instead. One day, Jack will probably meet some fabulous dancer who can get her foot behind her ear, but he seems to prefer my company at the moment. He explains that he could quickly bed half the chorus, but for emotional reasons, he tends not to. A lot of sexual tension makes for better on-stage chemistry rather than giving in to it and suffering a messy breakup mid-season. Never mix work and pleasure – unless you’re London call girl, where it is mandatory!

Now, I keep myself in shape, but Jack’s stamina far out-rivals mine. I’ve watched him from the front row before (he was in “Grease” in 2012), and I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He didn’t even break a sweat. However, I can’t say I wasn’t damp after that one…

As I look through my wardrobe, I need to consider the weather, although skirts and heels tend to be the order of the day for a 24-hour London escort. Not only is it easier to dance in heels than flats (unless you’re being thrown about in a Lindy hop!), but jeans are too cumbersome. However, it’s meant to snow this weekend, and I don’t want frostbite in unmentionable places. I think “Jack” will understand that I have to wear leggings when the temperature plummets to zero, rather than the floaty number I donned in the summer. Brrrrr!

Enhanced your curves

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I’ve never been one to buy into any surgery to boost or decrease my assets. I’ve been fortunate to have naturally large breasts, a tiny waist, curvy hips and a pert round bottom without the need to go under the knife. I’m not opposed to the idea of a little nip ‘n’ tuck as gravity takes its toll in later life, but as a model and a fabulous 24-hour Companions, the men I date and previous modelling bigwigs believe in my natural lines.

I thankfully don’t need to make religious trips to the gym or follow the strictest of diets. It’s not my age or any miracle diet pills needed to keep my sexy escort body in shape. I am pretty disciplined and get to “work out” a lot with my clients, but I think it must just be significant genes.

The places and venues I am fortunate enough to visit are classy, expensive and lush. Still, occasionally, you may get another 24-hour London escort from a rival company arriving with a rich businessman or wealthy bachelor who has quite obviously been to the plastic factory many times. I’m all for dressing the part as your client wishes, and if that means showing off your best assets, then so be it, but when your assets are bought and uber round and synthetic, then that’s where I wrinkle up my lovely (real) nose and take pity on the ladies in question.

Don’t get me wrong, each to their own, but I am lucky enough to have natural cleavage and more than enough breast to spill over my tiny dresses for the more daring of clients. I’m not one of your cheap escorts. I know that if I am going to a fantastic Casino in Mayfair or a bar in Park Lane, I will get requests for more flesh on the show, but more often than not, it is classy yet very sexy all the way.

I’ve had many offers for certain types of work due to my natural figure. It’s all very flattering. I meet film producers, writers, photographers and agents, and I’ve always politely declined their kind offers of work. It’s nice, and though one would think that it would be fantastic money, I don’t need it. I do enough role play and dressing up to be whoever is necessary anyway.

And I do play a good page 3 girl. I’ll have you know…