Today, I had a rough time. I slept in, my hair was a mess, and I had to drink my morning coffee without milk. The fact I was meeting a new client wasn’t helping at all. I’m always stressed meeting clients, even for the next time. I’m not even worried about weird requests any more, after working as a London escort for a year there really aren’t that many surprises left. Still, every time, I keep thinking that I might say or do something wrong, or they would suddenly decide I’m not good enough. Hopefully, this time he will be satisfied with a quick blowjob, or a sexy massage.
I walked in the hotel lobby, forcing a smile and picturing I’m already back at home, watching TV and stuffing my face with ice-cream. A tall, rather old man walked up to me, smiling wholeheartedly. He was quite good-looking for his age. His white hair were brushed back, and his beard was carefully trimmed, which immediately bought me, because nothing says a man is luscious more than a well-kept facial hair.
“Hello, you must be Isla,” he said and kissed my hand, making me blush.
Not many guys kiss your hands when you’re a London escort, I wasn’t used to this. I nodded and murmured a greeting back, I just noticed I forgot his name already. I thought we’d just go to the hotel room and quickly get it over with, but now I was feeling like it was my first date. His gallantry and sparkling blue eyes got to me, and I started to feel shy and vulnerable all of a sudden. My mind drifted back to the ice-cream that was waiting for me in the freezer at home.
We went to the hotel restaurant, and he swing back a chair for me, making my heart flutter. He handed me a menu, loosing up his tie.
“What can I get you, sweetheart?” he asked, smiling lightly.
I looked at the card, but I couldn’t decide. I didn’t want to get drunk, but I wouldn’t mind getting a little buzz going. All the drinks sounded the same, and his careful gaze was making me nervous.
“Ice-cream,” I blurted out and immediately covered my mouth in shame.
He laughed and shook his head.
“I’m not sure if they’re serving desserts so late, but I’ll do my best to deliver,” he said, still laughing.
“No, you don’t have to,” I quickly opposed, not wanting to cause trouble, “I wasn’t thinking, I’ll just have some wine.”
“It’s no problem, as long as it makes you smile, I’ll be happy to do it,” he waved his hand dismissively.
I still kind of wanted ice-cream, so I didn’t oppose again, smiling at him instead. My day just got a lot better, and all I did as go to work.
The waiter took our order and even agreed to get me my dessert without any trouble. We talked for a good half an hour, mostly about music, that we found had a similar taste in. He even offered to take me to a symphony on our next meeting. After I finished my ice-cream, I looked at him and bit my lower lip. The final part of our evening was definitely coming up next and, frankly, I couldn’t wait for it. After all, I was a professional London escort and that was my area of expertise.
“Shall we go upstairs?” he asked, standing up.
I nodded and smiled again, letting him lead the way. We entered the room and I sat on the bed, awaiting the instruction.
“So, Isla, tell me,” he started mysteriously, sitting next to me and taking my hand, “Have you ever given someone a massage?”
I laughed, but he remained serious, raising an eyebrow a little.
“Well, I’m quite skilled at back-rub,” I said, tilting my head.
“I can’t wait then,” he said and took off his tie.
I stood up and unbuttoned his shirt.
“Do you want me to take off my clothes?” I asked, after I took off his shirt.
“There’s no need,” he laughed, “I’d rather have some surprises left for our next time. I don’t like going right to the business straight away.”
I smiled and nodded. He lay face down on the bed and I positioned myself over him. I love giving massages to people, especially ones I like. I don’ get to do this as much as I’d like to working as a London escort, but at least it pays better than a massage parlour.
Traditionally, I’d start with his shoulders, but this time I wanted to touch him a little first. His skin was surprisingly soft, I gently traced my finger alongside his spine, making him shiver a little. I closed my eyes, tracing every bone, and sighed quietly. Then, I started rubbing his shoulders, enjoying the feeling of his muscles easing into my touch. Once he was all relaxed, I placed my palm at his right sides and moved them in circular motions, like I was kneading a bread batter. After a few minutes, I change the technique, clenching my fists and using my knuckles to massage the area on both sides of his spine.
I wasn’t applying much pressure, just enough to give him pleasure, without causing any possible harm. I remembered a move that was called a muscle-lifting and decided to try in next. It wasn’t particularly hard and a fun thing to do. I held out my thumbs and pressed them down, at the line of his belt, then, I closed my fingers, climbing upwards. It was like my hands were mimicking a spider. His skin was a little loose, due to his age, and it was entertaining to see it move like this. I repeated the move two times of each side, and I went back to traditional home massage techniques. Suddenly, he moved, looking at his watch.
“It looks like we are past our time,” he noticed, “I’m sorry to keep you so long.”
“No worries, I enjoyed myself,” I said, letting go off him and standing up.
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