Escort.

Today’s post is brought to you by the letter ‘E’… and the ‘e’ word, escort.

A few months ago I read an article on a male escort service operated by two women from Melbourne, Australia. I was intrigued, and I’ve been following their blog (dearaphroditeblog.blogspot.com.au) for a while now (an excellent source of inspiration!).
So today, I thought I’d start a little scene involving a woman, Gabriella, and her escort, Antonio.

As always, don’t hesitate to let me know what you think… I’d love to know!

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Sipping on a glass of red wine I wondered, not for the first time, what the hell I was doing. 

Last week I’d overheard two women on a train discussing the benefits of male escorts and, when they’d let the name of the agency slip, something had made me Google it. I’d been busy at work, in a bit of a dry spell in my personal life and… well. It sounded like a good idea at the time.

From there, a few too many glasses of sauvignon blanc had seen me completing an online booking form, making arrangements to meet Antonio, the Italian Stallion. That hadn’t been the end of it, the booking had only been confirmed when a woman named Priscilla had called me yesterday to confirm the booking, taking my credit card details and suggesting I meet Antonio at this little hole in the wall wine bar not even a block from my apartment.

It was, Priscilla told me, completely up to me whether I took him home; but either way, my credit card would be charged. At the time, I’d agreed, thinking that was fair. But now, sitting here, my stomach was churning and I was thinking that $1500 was going to go to waste.

“Gabriella?”

Holy shit.

Antonio, the Italian Stallion was gorgeous. Much better in person than he was in his profile picture. He had thick, dark curly hair, a well groomed beard and piercing green eyes that were kind of intimidating. It felt like he could read my mind and, given where my mind had immediately gone, I wasn’t sure that was a good thing.

“It is Gabriella, right?” 

I nodded, and swallowed. “Yeah. Yes, Gabriella. You must be Antonio?”

“I am. May I sit?”

“Yes, please. Of course.”

“Thank you,” Antonio said, sitting across from me at the small round table and reaching out to cover my hand with his. He grinned, a cheeky grin. “So, what brings such a beautiful woman out by herself tonight?”

I laughed. It had been exactly the right thing for him to say.

“Well, I had a bit of a rough day at work,” I began, taking another sip of my wine. “And I wanted to take a bit of time to decompress.”

Antonio idly stroked his fingers over the back of my hand, causing my skin to tingle. “What is it that you do?”

“I’m in banking, corporate asset financing.” I shook my head as I saw his forehead crinkle slightly. “I help companies organise financing to buy and lease property and equipment.” Listening to myself I realised I sounded pretty boring.

Antonio nodded. “You must work a lot?”

“Some would say too much,” I replied. “All work and no play makes Gabriella a dull girl.”

“I’m sure that’s not the case,” he said, glancing at my almost empty wine glass. “Would you like another?”

This was the now or never point. If I ordered another glass it would take time, time for the wine to be served, and for me to drink it. And this was only a three hour engagement.

“Do you like nebbiolo?” I asked.

Antonio looked at me strangely but nodded. “I do.”

“I have a bottle at my apartment,” I said, looking down at the table. “Would you like to join me for a glass?”

Antonio smiled. “I would.”

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And, fade to black. I could be convinced to continue this little scene later in the month, so make sure you let me know if you want to see what happens next.

It’s ‘F’ day tomorrow… see you then.