Stopover Client

After a morning of hard work for a couple London escort girls – we started at six-thirty – I was in need of fresh air and sustenance. The café along the road served up a breakfast until eleven and after checking the kitchen clock it was ten to eleven. I hurried out and walked fast to get there.

“Three minutes to eleven, you’ll be the last order.”

I wasn’t going to go for a full Cockney breakfast. “Tomatoes, toast, scrambled egg, mushrooms and bacon please,” I ordered, feeling a little guilty. Due to the nature of Josh’s work at the theatre four nights a week, I’ve stopped having meals after four with him, apart from a night off one a week. He’s a breakfast and mid-afternoon eater, but that means I go for hours without food when I’m on an escort trip with the girls.

With a skinny latte to make up for this, I knew I would work this off with my client later. All I had planned for today, was this meal, packing up the items I’d created, await the delivery driver between twelve and two, and have a couple of hours personal time, before my taxi picked me up at four. I was headed to an airport hotel to meet a billionaire Greek guy. He was on a stopover with meetings. Tomorrow he’d be out early of a flight to New York, so the time with him would be short, but sweet. Three hours plus travel time, and a gift to boot.

I liked he name ‘Damasos’; it rolled well of the tongue. His last gift was expensive perfume – a 100 ml bottle of Chanel’s Eau Vivre. Prior to that, he’d given me a gift box of Crème de la Mer. He never bought jewellery as he “didn’t want to cause suspicion” and I thanked him as I thought that was respectful and thoughtful. I’d recently gone through my perfume drawer. I had made up a holder so each bottle could be easily seen if laid on its side. I totalled forty-six types.

My daydream was broken as my late breakfast arrived. I was relieved at the portion size – just enough to keep me going until Damasos treated me to an early evening meal in his room. That was one of his trademarks – never to eat by himself. He’d be tucked up in bed by ten and I’d be home before ten-thirty and back well before Josh rolled in nearer midnight.