True Story: Escort encounter with her evening guest - London Escorts Articles and News

True story: an honest (but slightly amusing) mistake...

This story was told to us by one of our Brazilian escorts in London who has now retired.

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I was staying in a flat close to Marble Arch in Central London and sharing with another escort who was also from Brazil. The building was really good, probably the nicest place I'd had in London and I was very happy there, being careful to be discreet and also keeping the flat clean and looking great. I had been living there for a couple of months and it was very cosy.

One evening I'd got a text message from the agency asking if I could take an incall at 10pm. I was available and had plenty of time to get ready, so put some music on, got undressed and started a shower. After showering I started to make myself look great. The agency told me that the client was an older gentleman and often I find they are the best visitors, happy to relax and take their time, genuinely enjoying and relishing good company.

I brushed my hair long and straight and picked out some pretty and delicate lingerie that I'd bought recently; exquisitely patterned black lace with stockings, suspender belt and matching bra and knickers. I was looking forward to wearing them for the first time and, after applying some lotion over my body, put on the underwear and began applying my makeup.

Suddenly I heard the doorbell. I looked at the time on my phone; 9.50pm, the client was early. I shouted out to my flatmate, asking if she could answer the door and offer him a drink. She shouted back, saying she couldn't hear me over the music and asking me to repeat what I'd said. Not wanting to leave the client waiting, I ran out of the bathroom and towards the front door. I opened the door, standing there in just my underwear but being discreet and not wanting the neighbours to see. Before me stood an elderly gentleman, older than I'd anticipated, perhaps 70 years old, and wearing a patterned jumper. He looked me up and down and didn't speak. I apologised for my state of undress, telling him that he had caught me out but it wasn't a problem. I took his arm and escorted him into the flat, inviting him to sit down. I told him I'd get him a drink and then I'd finish dressing in a couple of minutes.

I left the music on but turned the volume down, thinking that he might not like it. I went into my room and took the dress that I had earlier laid out on my bed. I slipped into it quickly, gave myself a quick check in the mirror and then dashed back out to my guest.

When I came back, he was sitting on the sofa with his hands in his lap. He looked at me, staring me up and down. I wanted to make an impression and was pleased with how I looked given the rushing around. I asked him if he liked beer. He nodded and I walked into the kitchen, taking two beers from the fridge. I collected two glasses, opened the bottles and walked back to join my guest on the sofa.

I sat next to him and crossed my legs, exposing my leg right up to the top of my stockings. He looked me up and down and I poured some beer into his glass, passing it to him. He took the glass, said thank you, and held it, still looking at me.

At this point, the doorbell rang again. I checked the time, it was 9.55pm. I called out to my friend, asking if she was expecting someone. She came into the room, wearing just a short nightshirt, and said she didn't know who it was. Our guest looked at my friend in shock, and I felt awkward that we'd been disturbed. I walked to the door and opened it ajar; outside stood an elderly woman, quite short, and wearing huge fluffy slippers. "Is my husband in here?" she said. I was in shock and looked back at my guest sitting on the sofa. I opened the door a little more, and the lady pushed the door back to see her husband sitting on my sofa, holding a glass of beer and with my friend in her nightshirt stood a few feet away from him.

He didn't drink any of the beer, and we heard him being scolded long after we'd closed the door and they'd returned to the flat next door. Our neighbours had been disturbed by the music and she'd asked him to come and get us to turn the volume down.

The timing was very lucky and my client arrived just a minute after 10pm so all was ok. I wonder if my neighbour ever told his wife the full story of my opening the door in my underwear, and what they thought afterwards.

I now listen to music on lower volume or with headphones.

This article was uploaded in February 2014. This is a true story and was transcribed for the website.