Here is the second of the extracts from Rebecca Dakin’s “The Girlfriend Experience“. Enjoy!
Link: http://www.thegirlfriendexperience.tv/buythebook/
Diary: December 2008
I stood in the never-ending queue, shivering with cold, as the wind and rain blew through the open doorway where we were all waiting for taxis.
Fortunately the queue went down very quickly, the traffic wasn’t too bad and, surprisingly, I got to my destination a little earlier than 6p.m. As I confidently breezed through, trying to locate the lifts, I did a quick scan of the hotel. I walked straight past the lifts before realising my mistake and backtracking. This was the perfect hotel layout – I didn’t have to walk past Reception; I just walked through the front door and the lifts were there on my right. As an escort I have to look like I know where I’m going, and be confident and discreet. I never wear tarty or revealing clothes on my dates. As I’m not checking in, I don’t want to be questioned by hotel staff. Some London hotels are on the lookout for escorts, and have turned ladies away; others turn a blind eye.
Even though we would be eating at a Michelin-starred restaurant, I’d been asked to wear jeans. When my overweight American date opened the door in a pair of tatty grey jogging bottoms and a New York T-shirt pebble-dashed with toothpaste, my heart sank. Surely, he couldn’t seriously be thinking of going out like that?
The room was large and spacious, and the bed was huge, I was pleased to note. It would have been awful to share a smaller bed with him because of his sheer size. I don’t mind big men at all, though, because for me it really is about people’s personality: looks are only a bonus. We sat on the sofa and he poured us both glasses of champagne. It transpired he was single, and I guessed he was in his fifties (thanks to his comb-over hairstyle, where all the hair on one side was long enough to be draped from one side of his head, across the bald patch in the middle to the other side). He worked as an accountant. He’d made our dinner reservation for 7.30p.m., and there was no way I’d be able to polish off half a bottle of champagne before eating. I’d be hammered! So I sipped mine while he had two large glasses. Please don’t let him get pissed, I silently prayed.
When guys get nervous they sometimes drink too much – and then they can’t get it up, and they snore like a trooper! I counted my fee, £1,000, and thanked him before discreetly putting it in my bag. Once that bit is out of the way, I can relax and enjoy the evening. He seemed surprised that I had turned up, and said he didn’t think I would. Apparently he’d booked another lady earlier in the week and she had left after their expensive dinner, giving him half the money back and saying that they didn’t get along. This sounded an odd thing for her to have done, especially as he seemed pleasant enough. She was well-known and had good feedback on the escort review sites (where our looks and performance are rated), but I didn’t really know what to say because it wouldn’t have been fair to pass judgement without hearing her side of the story.
He’d kindly bought me some lingerie as a gift. It’s always a pleasant surprise to get presents – they’re not expected, but they’re always appreciated. When he said we’d be walking to the restaurant, I was a bit put out. I don’t mind walking short distances, but it was so cold and rainy that I was dreading going outside. I asked if he had a jacket I could borrow. He said he did, but that it wasn’t cold, and I corrected him by saying that just because he wasn’t cold, it didn’t mean others wouldn’t be.
He began to argue with me and it got my back up – some people are so self-obsessed. He wasn’t getting the message, so I cheekily told him I didn’t have any fat to keep me warm, and that if I was cold on the way there, I’d be getting a cab back on my own. You tend to find this with single men; they aren’t used to thinking about other people. I call it SMS – Single Man Syndrome. He told me I wouldn’t be cold in his jacket, and I said he had no way of knowing how I might feel. I also told him he didn’t seem to care about my comfort, but he insisted he was a gentleman. I said he wasn’t being very gentlemanly by expecting me to walk just because he liked walking and wasn’t cold. This little scenario did make me wonder if I too would be running off after dinner; I was finding him very difficult to get along with.
Fortunately he changed into a shirt and jeans, and put on a long overcoat for dinner. I put on his old casual, burnt orange coat, which drowned me. He said it suited me… Hmm! Outside, he noticed that it was raining, so he decided he wanted to get a cab. I could have told him it was raining! I debated whether to take his jacket back upstairs, but decided there was no point, especially as he thought I looked so good in it.
In the restaurant we both ordered fish starters, and then I had lamb while he ordered sole. He ended up with white bits of fish all over his face, and I was horrified. I had to keep asking him to wipe his face with his napkin, but as there was so much fish on the napkin, he ended up moving it around his face rather than removing it. How on earth could he not realise his face was covered with fish? Then I thought back to the toothpaste on the T-shirt and thought, probably quite easily! Clearly, he was oblivious to any mess he made.
It was bizarre and quite embarrassing, especially as other diners surrounded us. I have noticed that men who live on their own often have zero table manners. He spent ages picking at his teeth, because he had a fish bone stuck between them. Eager to get him to stop picking, I called the waiter, who brought over some toothpicks. He had de-boned the fish, but obviously missed all the small bones, so he sat there with his face covered in fish, picking bones out of his mouth. I couldn’t disguise the look of disgust on my face, yet he seemed oblivious. I wonder if the other escort was so repulsed by his eating habits this was the reason she had taken off without going to bed with him.
We had a twenty-minute breather before ordering desserts. He had the ice cream and I had the cheese, and all in all, we were at the restaurant for a good three hours. Socialising is the main part of my job – I love to eat at quality restaurants, so if we can get to know one another over dinner in a fine restaurant then I’m more than happy. We headed back to the hotel around 11p.m. and I changed into one of the lingerie sets he had bought me. The bra was a size too small, so I was popping out, but I didn’t think he’d mind.
I lay beside him and we French-kissed. We spent a while caressing each other – I was worried he’d be an eager beaver, but thankfully he wasn’t. Eventually he slid his boxers off and helped me out of my lingerie. I stroked his penis and down his thighs and I could feel him harden with my touch. At one point I thought he would just fall asleep. He lay there, with his eyes closed, on the bed. I then just rested beside him because I wasn’t sure if he wanted to sleep as he wasn’t touching me. I’m not paid to entertain sexually – whatever goes on in the bedroom is about two-way enjoyment, so the more clients put into it, the more they get out of it.
I’m always nervous about the first time with a client as I don’t know what to expect – whether he’ll be one that can hold an erection and take forever to come, or one that comes easily with minimal effort. Fortunately, he was the latter. Obviously, if it’s someone who comes quickly, I try to drag out the foreplay so that his fun can last longer. If they take forever, it’s extremely hard work and I want to get down to business with less foreplay.
After cuddling for a while, he eventually went down on me and I squirmed with pleasure. He did this for a few minutes, before popping his head up to let me know he was done down there. I took the hint and he lay on his back while I took him in my mouth; I alternated sucking him and using my hands. Although he had said that he wanted to be inside me, it wasn’t long before I could feel him start to shudder. He didn’t seem to want me to stop, so I carried on and pulled away just in time as he ejaculated all over my hand and both our bodies. I remember trying to keep the gap between our bodies closed so that none of it would drip onto the side of the bed I’d be sleeping on, but unfortunately it did. He got up and fetched a wet flannel and a towel for us to try and clean up the mess.
We both settled to go to sleep at about 12.30p.m. After a good lie- in, I stirred. He was still fast asleep, so I crept silently to the loo, and then got back in bed with him and snuggled up. Big men are far more comfortable to snuggle with than skinny ones.
As I don’t sleep cuddled up (I like my own space when I sleep), I always have a cuddle in the morning. He put his arm around me, and after a few minutes I decided to go down on him and get the morning session going. But he didn’t seem to be responding and said he wasn’t usually a morning person. So we snuggled and dozed for another hour. He’d said he didn’t normally eat in the morning and I doubted he would offer me anything, so I decided to be assertive and said I was calling down to order breakfast.
I stayed longer than I would have normally, but we were dozing and I was very relaxed. I left at about 11.30a.m. and wished him well for the rest of his trip. Despite the walking issue and the fish-face problem, it was a pleasant date and I hope he’ll let me know next time he’s in the country.