Arriving at her house always used to baffle me. She stayed in one of those high-rise apartments that were on the outskirts of the city, away from the hustle and bustle of a crowd, but still smack dab in a cosmopolitan society.
I met her through a site for escorts –and couldn’t believe my eyes when I met her for this first time.
She was more gorgeous than she looked in pictures. We were texting for a while before our first meeting and had exchanged some selfies in the process, but she was definitely one of those women that pictures did little justice. Her smile was warm and welcoming as she greeted me with a kiss on the cheek, highly informal for what we were about to do, but I enjoyed it nonetheless.
We talked for hours over pasta and slightly-burnt carbonara sauce that she whipped up. She led a busy life (advertising executive, go figure) so culinary arts weren’t really her specialty. We talked about her job, my job, her exes and my obsession with Game of Thrones. She listened as I went on in explicit detail about the characters; and laughed even when I wasn’t funny. It was then that I realized how much pressure she was put under –for a date where she was supposed to be the one getting her fill. I looked around at the stereo playing soft R&B, the bowl of sauce still in front of me, smelt the lingering scent of lavender in the air.
This woman had put in so much of effort for an occasion where I was supposed to be the one pleasuring her.
I then realized that women in general tend to over-analyse things way more than I can ever understand. I realized that as I led her into the bedroom, as she laughed in embarrassment when I undressed her, as her eyes softened when I complimented her. This was a woman who was deprived of her own pleasure and attention. She was conscious about every curve of her body, even though it was one of the most amazing things I’ve seen. I did my best to show her that she was desired and that instead of her focusing on micro-managing everything around her, she deserved to have someone take care of her once in a while.
I left that day understanding why women pay so much for male escorts –and have taken those secrets with me till this very day.
xoxo,
Andy