One time when my regular client and I were lying in the bed after a long, hot sex. We were cuddling and talking. Our time together was beginning to close, but I liked him, and there’s nothing better than embracing after sex.
“Would you like to be my date for a wedding?” he asked me suddenly.
I looked at him in utter confusion, to which he laughed.
“That might’ve given you the wrong impression, what I meant was go as my date but… during work hours,” he cleared his throat and I sensed his nervousness, “Sorry, that was stupid, forget it.”
“No, no, it’s fine,” I forced a laugh, “What you tried to say is you want to book a professional escort for a wedding, right?”
“Yes, but it’s all right if you don’t want to or something,” he shrugged.
“I’d love to accompany you,” I smiled reassuringly.
We discussed the pricing and details of the event. Usually, pretending to be someone’s date is fairly easy for me, but it definitely would be a little uncomfortable with someone I’ve been seeing so frequently. Nevertheless, at the end of the day I’m a professional escort and I aim to please my clients in every way they want.
The day of the wedding, we met up at my place. As we agreed, he brought me a dress. It was a beautiful rose flounce gown, and it felt like it was made to measure. I thanked him and changed quickly, of course not without comments on how he preferred me without any clothes. The jokes helped me relax and let go of the stress a little. Despite rather formal circumstances, we still passionately made out. It was hard for me to control myself around him, I was too used to seeing him for sex. He sobered up first, called us a taxi, and we headed to the event.
I expected that most of his friends would also have younger dates, but it turned out otherwise. It made me feel a little uncomfortable, I was basically the youngest one of the “wives” crowd. They were all very nice and nobody acted like they cared about our age gap, but I still had a voice inside my head telling me that they all know that I’m a professional escort, not his partner. At last, my client stayed by my side for most part of the evening, almost like a guard. Probably he was guarding me a little, some of his male friends were too interested in me, which I was used to, but it was still improper. The careful touch of his hands on my hips and waist made me feel more safe and relaxed. I was his tonight, just as much as he was mine.
After the ceremony, the dances started. We only danced with each other, although many men tried to take my client’s place. I was a party girl at heart, dancing was my scene, and after a few songs, he warmed up as well. Everyone seemed convinced that we are deeply in love with each other, we only slipped once. Well, maybe not slipped, but when one person asked us how we met, my client looked at me, like a kid checking his answer with his mother. I was used to remembering long background stories, so I answered without hesitation, but he was beating himself up about it, he thought that it would make everyone convinced that he is an uxorious husband with no opinion of his own. Fortunately, he didn’t ponder on that for too long, and soon we were both laughing about it.
“Thank you for doing it,” he said when we were driving back to my place, “I had fun.”
“Me too,” I laughed, “Do you want to stay for a bit?”
“I’m too tired, sorry,” he apologized and kissed my hand, “I’ll see you tomorrow anyway.”
“Oh, really?” I tilted my head to the side, “I don’t remember that booking.”
“I cleared this with the agency,” he shrugged, “I wanted it to be a surprise, but I blew it.”
I laughed and he joined me. For a party girl like me, I couldn’t imagine a better client. Just a right dose of humour, sex appeal and spontaneity, exactly what I always wished for.
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