Slow Anticipatory Throbbing

The party was in full swing by the time we arrived. A tall, well-built guy stood beside an elegantly manicured bay tree by the door and he was checking the guest list. My client, Mike, presented the embossed invitation, and after a quick check we were ushered inside. I immediately could see why the security was needed.

The Chelsea townhouse was sumptuously furnished, with antiques and expensive paintings the kind of place that well healed escorts feel at home in. It was obvious that the locked display cabinets were full because everything from surfaces had been carefully put away to avoid damage. It was a treasure trove and I could have spent hours looking at the contents. Preparation for a party like this would have been a nightmare; I would have hired a function room instead, but it is all down to personal preference.

Mike grabbed champagne from a tray and we made our way into one of the less-populated rooms. This was smaller and contained two large sofas plus another three wing-back chairs. The hosts were nowhere to be seen and Mike had already checked each of the four downstairs rooms. We could hear people upstairs and music, so we relaxed and chatted with the other guests. They were all dressed in designer clothes and I recognised at least two of the latest seasons dresses – one by Stella McCartney and the second, by Jenny Packham. My own black dress with a sheer neckline, was by Alexander Wang escorts like me only wear the best London designers.

Mike was comfortable here. It was his domain. He spoke with a deep, polished accent, and he had presence. As he was ex-military, he knew others from his own regiment. I had my script and kept to it, adding embellishments along the way. I fitted in well and was aware of more than one male gaze following me around.

It was only around two hours later when things started to hot up between Mike and I. Mike was talking to a chum and I’d been targeted by a rather drunken young man. He was still coherent, but was asking some rather personal questions. We ended up sharing banter, which was an easy way of dealing with him, but when he drew his arm over my shoulder and pressed his palm on the wall, I felt cornered. Mike was there within seconds. Rather than saying anything, he just slowly removed the guy’s arm, pulled me to him and kissed me gently. It was enough to start a slow anticipatory throbbing. My eyes widened, and as he kissed my neck quickly, he asked if I was ready to leave. I knew then he had other things on his mind.


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