“Hello, who is it?” a voice asked from behind the door.
“Hello, my name is Pauline. I’m very sorry, sir, but Louise can’t make it today. Would it be all right if I came instead?” I asked, my throat tightening as I spoke.
I had never done anything like this. Louise had suddenly fallen ill and couldn’t see her regular client. She was my best friend, so I offered to take her place. It was a strange sort of loyalty test, but one I couldn’t refuse.
“I was really looking forward to our meeting,” he sighed. “Is she all right?”
“Yes, she’ll be fine. Just under the weather. She should be back for your next Sunday.”
He chuckled softly. “Fine, then I suppose we can meet instead.”
I laughed, surprised at how easily he agreed. “All right then… see you later.”
“Goodbye, Pauline.”
Hanging up, I felt a twist of nerves. Meeting someone else’s regular client wasn’t something I relished. Louise had even told me what to wear, what to say, how to act—as though I were a student, not a woman with years of GFE behind me. Still, I respected her wishes.
At the Mayfair hotel I smoothed down my dress, knocked, and waited. I wasn’t a fan of this kind of roleplay, but I had promised myself I’d carry it with grace.
When he opened the door, he smiled warmly. “Hi, baby.” He brushed a kiss against my cheek.
“Hi,” I murmured back, trying not to show how uneasy I felt.
He took my coat, led me to the bedroom. “Drink?” he offered.
“No, I’m fine.”
He tilted his head. “No need for kisses either?”
“That I might need,” I said softly, catching my lip between my teeth.
He laughed and drew me close, lips brushing the nape of my neck before finding mine with a deliberate, almost tender passion. His kiss lingered, but his hands stayed still, only his thumbs tracing small circles across my back. It unsettled me—gentleness when I’d braced for hunger.
When we finally parted, he pulled me onto the bed beside him. I lay with my head on his chest, legs entwined. His hand rested lightly at my waist. He made no move to take more.
“So?” he asked, after a long silence. “What film would you like to watch today?”
I blinked. Surely he couldn’t mean it. Three hours, and he wanted to spend them… watching something?
“It’s your turn,” he teased, fingers tickling my ribs.
I pressed a kiss against his jawline. “You choose.”
“No, together,” he insisted, pulling out his laptop.
And so we scrolled through options, side by side like an ordinary couple. He kept glancing at me, searching my face for signs of interest. It was disarming—his care for what I wanted, rather than the other way round.
Finally, we settled on a film, and he let me curl against him, the laptop balanced on his stomach. We watched in companionable silence, only breaking it to laugh or murmur the odd remark. For the first time in a while, I felt something close to what the GFE was meant to mimic: an ease, a quiet belonging.
When it ended, we spoke about the film, about nothing and everything, before he let me leave fifteen minutes early. His parting kiss was softer this time, almost domestic.
Outside, the city air felt different. Strange how bizarrely simple the whole evening had been. I reached for my phone straight away—I couldn’t wait to tell Louise I finally understood why she liked him so much.
If you enjoyed this softer side of the Girlfriend Experience, you might also like exploring some of our Intimacy Guides:
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