Meeting My Late Night Escort

November 16th, 2010

Erotic Fiction

James shivered again (at least, he caught himself shivering again). It had become so automatic that he only became aware of it from time to time. He had been standing out in the cold for a long time now, just waiting. She wasn’t late at all– in fact, there was still a little while before she was due, but he just couldn’t help staying outside, despite the cold. It was snowing. No rain, no wind, just thick snow flakes wafting through the air playfully, languidly, at peace. The peacefulness of the setting was slowly but not intrusively seeping inside of him also. He looked around him; a few people were hurrying through the park, either towards home or some other place, the pub perhaps.

James hadn’t even had time to visit a pub yet. He had only been in the city for two days and in that time he had been far too swamped with work. It was so hard trying to maintain a smile all day with strangers. You had to lock yourself into this quasi earnestness that only brought another layer of tension into his muscles. He could feel how rigid he was and it wasn’t just the cold. Holding together a stable and convivial demeanour for eight hours at a time was like suspending yourself half way through doing a chin-up.

He was about to smoke a cigarette, then thought better of it. Despite the fact that he was the customer tonight (for once) and the customer is always right, he didn’t want to turn her off. Her profile – like almost all the others he had combed through – had said non-smoker, which only made sense. You can’t really look after someone while you are in desperate need for a cigarette. You can’t be at a high profile gig like tonight, looking amazing, only to dart off, smoke, then come back stinking.

Late night escort, London. That was all it had taken. Amazing. The whole thing had happened so quickly. Everything was so neatly arranged and with such speed and efficiency that had he not received an email and personal text message from Deanna herself, he would be standing her wondering whether he actually gone through with it in the first place. Suddenly, a black Mercedes pulled up by the park gates. The door opened and there she was; folding out of the car elegantly and forming fluently into a standing position. Her shiny black coat almost brushed the snowy ground and he caught a glimpse of a blood red evening dress underneath it and his heart picked up. She raised her head, gracefully flicking those long black locks out of her face. They settled perfectly around her creamy, angular features, the perfect border for an other-worldly beauty. Then she smiled, and began to walk towards him, and James knew he had done the right thing.

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