I’ve often been described as being one of if not the most alluring escort London has to offer, and whilst I don’t want to be big headed, I can certainly accept that I possess a fair few skills. See, I am without a doubt a first class flirt. But then, I do on occasion meet my match, as I did this one particular night on a date in central London. As soon as I met him, I was thoroughly chuffed with his charming demeanour and though he was a few years my senior, he was smart, well dressed and with just a hint of stubble for good measure. But beyond his look, there was something a little different to him and yet, as we sat down at the table for dinner, I made a pact with myself to out-flirt him and really go to town in terms of cheekiness. I began in the traditional style; a sly brushing of hands, a giggle now and then and the traditional coy smile.

However, he had an answer for everything and it wasn’t long before I realised that I wasn’t just playing the game, I was genuinely all a flutter. His calm, composed demeanour, his piercing eyes; I could feel my legs begin to wobble as had an answer to every single one of my cheeky little wares. At one point, as I tried to slowly brush my long slender fingers across his palm, he simply grabbed my hand and held it firmly and with a wry smile of his own, he let me know that he was more powerful than I’d reckoned. I won’t lie; I was about as turned on as I’ve ever been and to this day, I don’t think I’ve ever been too excited to eat desert before or since!