Lucky me. Lucky, lucky me. I really am very lucky. Lucky that I have sufficient charms and sufficient improvisation skills to impress…Lucky I was in London, and lucky that I decided to entertain an escort London last night, and lucky to happened to be landed with the most graceful, endearing, and downright gorgeous escort imaginable!
I was only in London for a few days, negotiating a high-profile merger in Canary Wharf. Unfortunately, it went sour – and if that wasn’t bad enough, my seniors in the United States made it clear that they were disappointed in my performance. Suffice to say, I was in a foul mood, and was hardly considering myself lucky at the time! My fortunes began to turn, however, as one of my friends recommended Canary Wharf escorts, providing a slight glimmer of hope that the atrocious evening might be salvaged. I reminded myself glumly that hope often leads to more disappointment, but took the advice of my friend and called the Canary Wharf escort agency.
A very good decision indeed. Resolving to put the rest of the day behind me, but not quite succeeding, it was with twinges of edginess mixed with nagging worries that I waited, clad in my best evening suit, for my escort London. As the minutes plodded on, the worries increased. Was the negotiations collapse my fault? Was I going to be fired? Would they not only fire me, but cancel my tickets and leave me stranded in London?
And then she walked in.
Tall, willowy and slender, with bright, cat-like brown eyes matching her hazel hair, my escort had a warm smile and a body that seemed more suited to a supermodel than an escort. Her striking purple dress and elegant jewelry added a touch of class and sophistication to her, but neither that nor her make-up was any match for her astonishing natural beauty. I wanted to forgo the platonic pleasantries and sweep her into my arms then and there!
My escort noticed me, and walked over, in her graceful, arousing walk. She greeted me, with a graceful, arousing smile, in a graceful, arousing voice. Hastily regaining my composure, I settled for a balance – not too cordial, not to clingy. Taking a leaf out of 18th-century books, I took her warm hand in mine and pressed my lips against it. For five seconds. Too long perhaps, but when I looked up I could tell by her grin I had charmed her. My luck was on the rise.
I took her to the bar, where I charmed her further by ordering some extremely expensive French wine. She was incredibly easy to talk to, and we talked and flirted for a good fifteen minutes. In that moment, wouldn’t really have minded if my tickets had been cancelled! Knowing my escort was available every right, I would have happily stayed in London for weeks and weeks! I However, the more we talked, the more she flashed that arousing smile at me, the more I contemplated her perfectly curved figure, her beautiful face a few inches from my own, the more I wanted to cut the conversation short and take her up to my room. After twenty minutes, my heart jolted as I felt her shoe slide softly against my leg. I snapped my eyes up to hers, to find her brown eyes twinkling back at me, a promising smile gracing her face. My luck had reached its height.
I eagerly took my escort back to my room, where I practically threw her onto my bed, before sliding myself between her exquisite legs, kissing her perfect body as I undressed her. She was a match for my excitement, clasping me tightly to her and kissing me repeatedly on the neck and face….Entirely undressed, I moved back to contemplate the gorgeous, happy creature that lay before me.
As we clasped out bodies together again, all I could think about was my astonishing good luck.