Legs
I go by “Legs” - you can see why. I’m an internet escort - no, not a prostitute. I take offense to that.
I rarely have sex with my clients - the cost is more than most can handle. We usually just go on dates. Talk. Hang out together. Sometimes they jack off while I watch and other times I suck them off. It doesn’t take much for them. They are lonely men. Older. Widowed. Divorced. Sometimes married, but I don’t like to think about that. Most are quite unattractive and have low self-esteem. It doesn’t affect our night. I treat all my men the same. And at the end of the night they hand me a crisp white envelope, as requested, with my fee inside (minus the deposit I demand before we even meet), I kiss their cheek and we part ways. I have quite a few repeaters but at least once a week I get a newbie.
Like today. I received his initial response from my Craigslist ad and we went back and forth a few times before finally deciding on a date and time. Lucky for him I was available tonight.
PayPal me my deposit and meet me in the Arms lounge at 7:45pm tonight.
He agreed and I waited an hour until the money had arrived. It was only 4 pm so I had plenty of time to relax before getting ready for my date. I ran a hot bath and poured myself a glass of red wine. I relaxed in the huge soaker tub for about an hour before I decided it was time to get out and start getting ready.
The man wanted me to dress elegant but sexy. I took that as I should wear a dress but no panties. Seems to do the job. I flipped through my closet and settled on a slinky black dress and red strappy heels. I did my hair and makeup flawlessly, brushed my teeth, added some shimmery lotion to my legs and dabbed some perfume behind my ears.
I drove across town to the hotel and let the valet park my sleek silver BMW. Stepping into the lounge, I sat down at the bar, ordered a martini and waited. I was nervous - I usually was when meeting a client for the first time especially when they refused to send me a picture of themselves.
7:47 pm on the dot I felt someone standing behind me.
“Legs?” His voice was deep and scratchy, like he had a cold.
“Yes. Have a seat” He didn’t move.
“I’d rather take this upstairs”
