My Personal Story of French Kissing with a Client

As a domination escort in London, I rarely take GFE gigs. Long French kissing sessions and cuddles, are not exactly my kind of jam. That being said, I accepted a request for tonight. I didn’t have anything else to do, and it paid good.

The client told me he left the room key in the reception for this Kensington outcall date, and it was true. I easily picked it up, sending a gracious smile to the bored-looking girl at the front desk. I headed upstairs and after a few minutes of going left and right down the corridor, I found the room.

The hotel suite was bathed in the warm glow of soft lamplight, creating an ambience of intimacy and anticipation. I nodded approvingly, the client really set the GFE vibes here. I anxiously paced the room, the client was nowhere to be found. Suddenly, the sound of the door opening stopped me mid-step. I turned around and smiled, seeing who was supposed to be my boyfriend, standing in the doorway.

Our eyes locked, and a smile lit up his handsome, clean-shaven face. I walked towards him, and without a word, we embraced in a tight hug. I was surprised that he didn’t even try to grab my ass, just innocently hug me. The scent of his cologne hit me, and I breathed in deeply, savouring the moment. It really felt amazing, almost like I wasn’t just a DFK London escort, and he wasn’t just a client.

When we finally pulled back, there was a pause, a moment of silence, that we needed to establish the next steps. His eyes traced the contours of my face, and he cupped my cheek, his thumb gently brushing against my skin.

“I missed you,” he whispered, his voice soft, yet firm.

“I missed you too,” I replied, still smiling lightly.

After a moment, he leaned in, capturing my lips in a tender kiss. 

As we continued to kiss, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of us and our passion. French kissing was never my favourite, but he was great at it and made it feel easy and natural.

When we parted, I could barely breathe, half from the kiss and the intense feelings it brought me. He picked me up, a bit out of breath, and carried me to the bedroom. The door initially posed a challenge, but it gave in and he laid me on the bed.Our eyes met, and a silent understanding passed between us. The tension in the air was palpable as we inched closer. His left hand reached out and under my t-shirt, grasping my breast. I let out a little moan, as he squeezed my nipple. At the same time, his other hand gently cupped my face. I felt his rough fingers brushing my cheek and closed my eyes from pleasure. He was a real man, a visualization of all my dreams.

A nervous smile played on my lips as I waited for more and more. Time seemed to slow down, while he was lowering his face towards mine. Our breaths mingled, passion flickering in our eyes.

At last, our lips met in a soft, lingering kiss. It was a dance of vulnerability and desire, a connection that spoke volumes without a single word. The world around us faded away, leaving only the echo of our beating hearts. It wasn’t just a French kissing, it wasn’t just a GFE, it was a connection on a deeper lever. His hand was still on my breasts, so raised my torso a little, letting him take off my top and bra. Now, he had a much better access to caressing my chest, and he was definitely planning on making use of that. I reached under his shirt and he immediately pulled away, taking it off before lying back.

A shy smile danced on my lips, and he looked into my eyes with a newfound intensity. A little rest, and soon we were French kissing again.

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