Every escort needs a special BF
I had booked to watch the new film, Crimson Peak, with the dashingly-talented Tom Hiddleston. My gay friend Franz was my cinema date, OMG ask any of the escorts in London about the benefits of the fag hag scene after all how many girls don’t enjoy a little A level activity! I also wanted to find out about his new boyfriend, Paolo, who sounded dreamy. We both liked Tom’s films luckily. I liked the darkly strange, vampire movie in which he starred as a depressive musician with Tilda Swinton as his vampire wife. There was something about the thought of being able to stay up during the night only that resonated with me.
In, fact, I was born at twelve minutes past midnight on Valentine’s Day and I’ve been awake at midnight on most nights too “maybe I was destined to be a lady of the evening”. Due to the Valentine’s connection, my baby photo was plastered in the local London newspapers, citing my looks then. I looked at the picture and saw a bright-pink face, with a snub nose, and stick-up hair. There was nothing pretty about that.
Anyway, we headed out for pizza first as Franz revisited his two dates with Paolo. They had not slept together yet, but he did fancy him, and it appeared the feeling was mutual. We shared pizzas and chatted about life in general. I liked how we could not see each other for a month and pick up on the previous conversations.
We chatted about a few of my most recent and interesting escort dates and I also explained how the burlesque sessions were progressing and that was enough for Franz to invite me over to his suave west London boudoir meet Paolo and to perform my five minute dance routine in front of them. He’d cook dinner and provide copious amounts of wine. He wouldn’t let it drop, so I agreed that I’d go over nearer Christmas and he could give me a verdict on my skills.
When I told him about the lingerie modelling, he wanted one of the photos. “I’ll put it in my bathroom,” he teased.
After the film, which was another dark hit for Del Toro, Franz walked me back home, before he hit the tube to his. We take it in turns to visit each other which we both appreciated.
I asked Franz to come up to the flat, and after looking in my top drawer, I passed him a signed photograph. “That’s for your bathroom wall,” I smiled. He looked at it and whistled. “You definitely look like Brigitte Bardot in this shot. I’m actually quite proud of you!” Then he left and I sat down and wondered if Tom Hiddleston was single or not. Now, he’d be a catch!
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