My weekend diary was packed tight already, but when you work as one of London’s dinner date escorts you get used to bending your own rules. Monday is normally my sanctuary, my day to switch off, but he’d asked so sweetly. Extra generous too. I said yes before I’d properly thought it through. Dinner at a hotel restaurant in Covent Garden — it sounded harmless enough, though a part of me knew it would be anything but.
I got there early, the sort of early that makes you feel foolish, smoothing down my dress and pretending to read the menu. The words didn’t even go in. My mind was racing — what if he wasn’t my type, or worse, what if he regretted asking? I tell myself I like that mix of nerves and anticipation, though sometimes it feels more like a flaw than a thrill.
When the waiter led him to the table, I finally let out the breath I’d been holding. His smile came easy, his voice calm. Within minutes we were trading stories — food, travels, even gossip about the too-perfect couples scattered around us. He laughed the sort of laugh that softens you without trying. By dessert, I already knew I’d made the right choice breaking my Monday rule.
The hotel room was another world. The air carried a charge, a different kind of intimacy. His kisses were hungry, yes, but there was something softer underneath, something that trusted me to lead. That’s when it clicked — tonight, the control was mine.
He’d confessed to wanting brimming. Not the sort of request men usually say out loud, but he did, and he waited there with a quiet anticipation that was strangely touching. I teased him, let pauses linger, enjoyed the way his body betrayed him more than words could.
It wasn’t polished. My rhythm faltered here and there, I second-guessed myself once or twice. But honestly? That was what made it better. Real. Messy in the right way. Watching him surrender, his eyes half-closed, his body straining between wanting and waiting — that’s what stayed with me.
In that tucked-away Covent Garden hotel room, I realised again that no matter how booked up I get, there’s always space for the unexpected, for moments that rewrite the script.
If you’re curious how the night unfolded, don’t stop here — read the rest in Brimming with a Covent Garden Escort – Part Two.
Curious to explore your own desires? Spend an evening with our Covent Garden escorts, who know how to turn dinner dates into something more. And if you’d like another taste of intimacy, read Netflix and a Hotel Room in Shoreditch next.