The London escort agency lets us do both incalls and outcalls, but that day I was hosting. I wouldn’t invite just anyone in here — it has to be someone I trust. George has been around since the very start of my career, so I know his quirks. He’s usually late, which is why I took my time in the shower, enjoying the steam and the weight of hot water on my skin. My red dress hung on the door, waiting, like it was already part of the evening.
And then — the buzzer. Ten minutes early. Typical George. Always off, one way or the other. I scrambled for a towel, rolled my eyes at myself, and opened the door with wet hair sticking to my shoulders. He smiled in that dry way he does, stepped inside, and I shooed him towards the living room while I rushed off to throw clothes on. No make-up this time, but oddly I didn’t care. Being a London incall escort has made me strangely braver about that.
When I came back, he was sprawled on the sofa, phone in hand, and a bakery bag on the table. George never turns up empty-handed. It’s not about the gifts themselves, but that he remembers the little things. Hot chocolate. Apple cobbler. My favourite. I sat beside him, the smell already softening me, and for a while we just ate in silence.
Then, out of nowhere, he asked if we could do things differently. Usually he wants me in charge, but today he wanted to be the one steering. His tone wavered — like he wasn’t sure I’d take him seriously. I tilted my head, amused, then leaned in with a smirk.
“Prove it,” I told him.
And he tried. It wasn’t polished — some of it awkward, some of it surprisingly tender — but that was the beauty of it. His confidence slipped and came back in waves, and watching him step into that role was sweeter than I expected. Somewhere between the laughter and the fumbling, I realised I liked the way the power shifted between us.
Later, stretched out side by side, he gave me a rueful look. “Maybe I’m not that type of guy after all.”
I nudged him, grinning. “Practice makes perfect.” And just like that we were both laughing, properly, like old friends who’d stumbled into something new together.
It’s moments like these — the ones that don’t follow a script — that remind me why being a London incall escort still feels alive for me.
And if you like the idea of power shifting hands in unexpected ways, you’ll want to read about an Outcall in London with a Domination Escort.