I had only been with the London escort agency a few days when my first booking came through. Not my very first ever, I had done bits of GFE work before, but I was still new enough that everything felt unpredictable. This client wanted roleplay, which I usually like, though his request made me raise an eyebrow. A catgirl. Not exactly what I expected. Still, who am I to judge? He even offered to buy the costume, though I already had one shoved at the back of a drawer from an old Halloween party. I almost laughed pulling it out. I never thought I would wear it again, yet here we were.
He wanted me to arrive dressed. That felt awkward, so I slipped it on under a long coat, ears hidden in my bag. The night was cold, which helped me blend in. I looked like a girl in too much of a hurry, not someone with a tail tucked away.
I got to his Chelsea hotel too early, typical me, worried about being late, so I ended up ten minutes ahead. Waiting outside his room felt stupid, so I slid on the ears, knocked, and tried not to overthink.
“Hello, my sexy kitten,” he said, grinning as he opened the door.
I just smiled, stepping inside, peeling off my coat. We hovered in the hallway like two awkward teenagers, both not quite sure who should move first. He told me I looked prettier than my photos, which was sweet but also clumsy. I decided to take control and threw my arms around his neck, laughing.
“You are not so bad yourself,” I teased.
That seemed to loosen him. He leaned close, warm breath brushing my lips, but he did not cross the line. I kissed him first. After that he found his nerve, kissing harder, hands sliding where they wanted to.
Things blurred quickly. The costume, the nerves, the hotel room smell of too much air freshener. He lifted me, carried me to the bed. Part of me thought the whole thing ridiculous, cat ears slipping sideways, skirt hiked up, but another part of me liked how ridiculous it was.
On the bed, he faltered again, almost like he was asking permission without words. I guided him with a touch, a look. It was roleplay but also not. He wanted me to say the words out loud. What I wanted. It made me shiver, being made to voice it.
And then everything tipped into urgency. Rougher, needier than I expected. Messy, sheets twisted, sweat clinging. I do not remember how many times I lost myself, just that afterwards I felt wrung out and strangely proud. Silly costume or not, I had leaned into it, and the memory stayed with me.
Sometimes the ones you do not take too seriously end up sticking in your head the longest.
If you enjoyed this playful tale of costumes and nerves, you may also want to explore the softer art of intimacy. Read Mastering the Role of a Girlfriend Experience Escort.