As a domination escort, I rarely wander into GFE territory. Long kisses, soft cuddles, the sweetness of pretending — it isn’t usually where I shine. And yet, when the request came through for an outcall in an Aldgate hotel, something in me said yes. Perhaps it was the promise of good pay, or maybe it was the chance to step into a different role for a night.
At reception, the key was waiting just as he said it would be. I picked it up with a smile for the weary girl at the desk and made my way upstairs. The suite was warm, bathed in the low light of lamps that whispered intimacy. He’d thought it through, I noted — the atmosphere was exactly what a GFE meeting should feel like. Still, the room was empty, and I found myself pacing, wondering what kind of man would soon walk through the door.
When it opened at last, my thoughts scattered. He stood there — tall, clean-shaven, a quiet confidence in his smile. We met in silence, our arms wrapping around each other. No groping, no rush. Just a genuine embrace. His cologne lingered between us, sharp yet comforting, and for a fleeting moment it didn’t feel like escort and client at all, but something closer to real.
“I missed you,” he murmured, fingertips brushing my cheek.
“I missed you too,” I replied, surprising myself with the softness in my voice.
Then his lips found mine. A long, unhurried kiss that blurred the edges of the world. I’d never been one for deep kisses, but he had a way of making them effortless, almost hypnotic. By the time we pulled apart, I was breathless.
He carried me easily to the bedroom, the weight of the moment more than my body in his arms. Laid down gently on the bed, I looked up to find his gaze waiting, as though we both knew we’d stepped past pretence. His hands explored carefully, one still cradling my face while the other brushed against me with a tenderness I didn’t expect. My body arched instinctively, torn between nerves and hunger.
Time slowed. Another kiss — softer, more lingering than before — and the tension thickened, sweet and unbearable. It wasn’t just about play-acting a boyfriend. It was about closeness, about letting walls slip for a little while. The kind of intimacy that hovers between reality and make-believe, where both feel equally true.
That night, in that Aldgate hotel, the GFE became more than a service. It was a connection fragile, unexpected and achingly human.
If this glimpse into Aldgate stirred something in you, you may also enjoy reading about Texts & a GFE Date in Kensington, or taking a stroll through a Green Park with an escort . And should you find yourself closer to the City, our refined Barbican escorts are always near at hand.