First Day as an Escort

A pungent smell stung my nostrils the moment I walked in. It must have been caused by the shisha, fat cigars and expensive liquor in the room.

Everything looked so posh. Men in silk shirts with hot girls beside them laughing or locking lips like it was their dying wish. I was used to parties but none ever had even a spec of the glamor this one possessed.

I was worried about pleasing my British client more than I was worried about fitting in with the crowd. It was clear that the other girls were experienced. It was a fairly crowded party but every couple had created their own mini party of two. A man was struggling to hold on to his drink while a brunette stuck her mouth inside his pants making him twitch. Two women were French-kissing in front of a guy who seemed thoroughly turned on and occasionally instructed them to do something. I was a little aroused and hurriedly downed three tequila shots to get rid of the awe, shyness and look in my eye that screamed ‘newbie’.

Immediately my client handed me a cigar, I pushed it away and instead stuck my index finger in the space between his shirt buttons. I glided to the right and circled his nipple then gave it a hard squeeze as I bore my eyes into his. He set his drink on the table as a small gasp escaped his throat, followed by a chuckle.

I was glad that my escape plan was beginning to work. I had no intentions to please anybody in the middle of a crowd. When I took his hand to find some privacy, he winked at his buddy and followed me up the stairs.

I didn’t expect a man like that to just take a seat and ask me, undress as I assumed he was taking photos of me. I was relieved all the same and set the table in the room squarely in front of him.