After my first ever experience at De Wallen several years ago, I felt like a fool for never considering p4p as an option for my sexual urges. I did my research & found out about the safe opportunities right there in London, the city in which I staying at the time as a workaholic & slightly melancholic but hot-blooded bachelor.

Thus begins my time as a customer of London escort agencies.

I would like to use this thread now to recount some of my experiences as a way to memorialize them before they start fading from my mind. I know most reports about the London scene are usually posted on punternet but I feel more comfortable having them here. I also tried other mongering options in London but my focus here are the escorts.

IMO, as far as its p4p scene is concerned, London provides a lot of variety in terms of the types of ladies, the price range, and the services in offer. But using escorts agencies is particularly expensive, even more so if you are into eastern europeans. I stopped because I felt guilty about spending the money. A few months later I changed my job & took an offer to relocate to Southeast Asia, where I am now.

All of these sessions happened several years ago, with the last one occurring in early 2012. My notes tell me I saw about 17-20 different escorts. But they don't tell me the number of sessions I did.

Most of the ladies were, from their accents, Eastern European or Russian. There were a few South Americans, mostly Brazillians, as well as a few Thai girls and British lasses. I think there was also one American, one Swedish & one Italian. As I said, these happened several years ago. Most of the ladies have retired, save for about 3 of them.

Gabriella, Max's Angels

Max's Angels is legendary and, by reputation, the go-to agency if you want a PSE. The ladies offer most of the standard hardcore services you usually see in a typical Silicone Valley pornstar tube video. They are experienced & skillful. They will take care of you.

But Gabriella is one of a kind.

To be with her is to enter into what video gamers call 'Beast Mode'. Or maybe even 'God Mode' -- for during every session with her, something extraordinarily superhuman, almost godlike, rises from within you to meet the challenge of trying to rise up to her high level of awesome sexual energy. You never completely catch up, but just attempting to scale those carnal heights, or even marveling at the inspiring view, can turn a puny wallflower into a Samson.

She will do a lot of things for you. She can do it sensual or she can do it hard. And she will do a lot of things to you as well, and she sometimes does it without asking for your permission, and so allow your ass, which she completely owns, to be surprised by one or two things unsolicited. Bow & lie prostrate before her. Submit to her demands and let her do things to you that you will never let anyone do, not even in the the wettest of your dreams.

And when things, at times -- as they must -- drop to a slow & sensual rhythm, nourish your ears to the sweet sounds of her impatient moaning.

Being with her will inspire so many new wants within you, wants for things you had never thought of before. She is nothing but pure Eros, the Sorceress of the Dark Arts of Eros. To be with her is to smash apart your understanding of desire, and then rebuild it anew.

And what is a new understanding of desire than a new way, a new path, towards happiness?

Three Ladies on Fulham Road

As it can be easily surmised from the presence of many cinematic references in my reports from the past few years, I am a movie buff. I can watch any film from any country in any genre, except maybe for those pretentious video art pieces you see in museums.

During my time in London I used to have the Cineworld Unlimited card that allowed me, for a set yearly fee, to see any movie I wanted at any Cineworld branch in the UK. So I saw more or less every movie that came out. I saw them almost always in the daytime (unless I went with a mate) as I hate crowded theaters and I'm very picky with where I sit, which usually needs to be in a completely empty row with no one sitting in front or behind me.

There was one branch that I used to go a lot. I would take the short trip on the Green Line to Gloucester Road station, walk south into Fulham Road, turn right and walk to the Cineworld there.

Many times, if I arrived early, I would first get my ticket at the counter, walk out, and then kill some time at the nearby Daunt Books, showrooming for some titles to download on my kindle. I don't think I ever bought anything there, except maybe for their cute tote bags, which I got probably because I kept seeing them being used all around London by cute arts-student-looking young women.

If you walk further pass Daunt Books on Fulham Road, you will come to a particular door that leads to a particular flat where I have seen three different escorts.


Lady 1

The first lady I saw in this flat was also the first escort I ever saw. She had long straight blond hair. Looks-wise I would describe her as a more attractive version of the reality TV star Heidi Montag who used to be popular a few years ago.

After making tonnes of research about the escort scene in London, I had called the agency the day before and made a booking to see a different lady (whom I never eventually got to see). The receptionist said she was available at my set time. I was supposed to call again the next day to confirm the booking but there was a miscommunication. I thought the receptionist told me that it was SHE who was going to be calling me to confirm the appointment. (Remember this was my first time so I did not know the system).

So I waited the whole morning for my cell to buzz. Finally an hour before the set time I called the agency again. The confused receptionist regretfully told me that my appointment had been given to someone else, but there were other ladies available on short notice -- and one of them was this lady. I chose her and several minutes later the receptionist texted me this Fullham Road address. I quickly showered, brushed my teeth and headed out.

Lady1 was one of the more popular girls on the site. As I was late, my time was short as she had another john coming in straight after me & we were not supposed to be able to bump into each other. The nervousness of my first escort experience and the anxiety about the short time did not help me cum.

Lady1 grew restless. Finally, I offered to just stand up & jerk off onto her boobs while she sat on the side of the bed and encouraged me. It worked, but she did cup her hands in front of me at the last minute and into them most of my cum went.


Lady2

One of my favorite experiences. Her body was small and tight, with cute dimples in all the right places. She seemed so chilled during our time together that I had originally thought she was on something. She told me it was probably because of the chamomile she liked drinking -- or was it cough drops she liked sucking? -- I forget what she told me).

She said she was from Ukraine but I knew it was a lie because when I struck a conversation about the country's domestic politics, she did not recognized the names of Yulia Tymoshenko or Yiktor Yushchenko (both controversial former presidents).

But Lady2 liked talking about alcohol & she particularly loved talking about the various ways to mix her favorite cocktails -- and she seemed to liked Pina Colada & also Jagermeister a lot. The second time I saw her, as promised, she brought a bottle of some famous liquor from her home country. I remember it tasting very fruity and good. It also wared me up a bit from the cold weather outside.

When fucking her, I loved how, in the heights of pleasure, she would make requests for me to touch or squeeze certain areas of her body to turn her on so she could cum with me. She grew wild when I rubbed her ass cheeks and pulled them wide apart as I entered her. She also liked watching me play with myself as she stroked her pussy vigorously with one hand and shoved the five fingers of the other hand up her ass.

I had done three visits with her & was ready to do a fourth when her profile disappeared from the agency. I think I will never meet anyone, either in my civilian or john life, who has made me feel so relaxed & comfortable during sex.


Lady3

If I am not mistaken Lady3 is the second to last escort I saw in London. I only saw her once and it was to be my last time in that Fulham Road flat.

The agency website said she did A-levels and I was in the mood for that, having been in something of a porn-watching binge during the week prior.

I confess that I absolutely love watching A-levels in porn. I actually prefer it to pussy. It has less to do with the feeling of power & submission than to the intimate viscerality of it. A-level is not pleasurable on the side of the receiver if she is not willing & hospitable to the experience. So for it work, the asshole has to be very accepting & welcoming. This often makes, at least for me, a viewing experience of extreme carnality, profundity & intimacy.

Yet I don't do A-levels that often in my sex life. I have a phobia of seeing the brown substance.

Anyway, on the website, Lady3 seemed very popular & was highly recommended, with a lot of positive reviews. (In fact, I checked it just now and she is still working and still very popular.)

But she was clearly exhausted when I saw her, which did not help my mood. When she sucked me, her saliva had that strong smell that I hate, that sour odour that is usually difficult to wash away (Some of you might know what I am talking about).

So I decided to forgo anything extra, including the A-levels. But she had a very cheerful & positive energy, which I think is attractive to most guys. The mentions on the website about her popularity was not untrue. When she opened her drawer to put in my tip I saw that it was filled with notes.


As I was cleaning up, I asked Lady3 about Lady2's disappearance on the website. She told me that Lady2 had to abruptly stop work because her family found out. Some relative stumbled on the website & saw her profile & told her parents. I was told that Lady3 overheard a lot of sad weeping from Lady2's room but she did not want to get involved.

My heart sank as I was told all this.

Now, late at night in bed I would sometimes recall my three happy times with Lady2 and I would dream about suddenly encountering her in the street. She would recognize me at once & lower her gaze bashfully. I would approach and hug her tightly & tell her I would take care of her forever.

But I know this is only the typical stupid sad dream of a john.

I left the flat on Fulham Road feeling extremely sorry about Lady2. Passing by Cineworld, I went in and on impulse decided to see the very next movie on schedule.

If I was not mistaken, the movie was 'The Deep Blue Sea', directed by Terence Davies and starring the beautiful Rachel Weisz. It was about a woman who left her rich elderly husband in order to be with a dashing young pilot. But the new relationship did not work out and she attempts suicide.

Weisz's performance was absolutely gut-wrenching. The constant close-ups of her gorgeous but sad expressive face, plus the emotionally overwhelming use of classical music by the director, caused me to sob silently in the almost empty theater.

Brazillians!

I've been wanting to do it with one for a long time ever since my two trips, one to Rio de Janeiro & the other to Sao Paulo, several years prior. The supermodels that come out from that great country are also among the most gorgeous in the world. There was a time when the roster of top supermodels in the world was conquered by Brazillians. Now, with a few retirements, their domination has been taken over by Russians.

To fulfil my fantasies, I saw two ladies during my time in London. In both cases, there was an interesting 'scene' with the flatmate.


T, the Tori Black lookalike

She did look a lot like the super-pornstar Tori Black, especially her face, but with a few differences. T's nose is slightly pointier and her skin a little darker. And her deal is not to be full of enthusiastic horny energy like Ms. Black, but to be elegant, calm and a little shy.

She didn't speak much English, but her gentle voice had a soothing sound, sort of like a female version of the great Brazillian Bossa Nova singer Joao Gilberto.

This woman is absolute gorgeous, probably in the top 5 of all the ladies I saw in London. When I first saw her, T wore this elegant shiny silver dress, resembling a ballroom gown. She allowed me to slowly peel it off and kiss every newly exposed area of skin.

I especially loved her BJs. She would first put some lube on my member and then give the slowest and most sensual HJ while licking & adoring the head, sometimes tickling the small hole with her tongue, which drives me mad with desire.

While I was just about to cum during my second time with her, suddenly loud knocks and shouts came at the bedroom door. I didn't understand the language, but it sounded as if her flatmate was mad about some forgotten household chore. T opened the door and quietly informed her of my presence. The flatmate said sorry and that was the last I heard of her.

Fortunately T was very beautiful & skillful & I had no problems continuing with where we left of. As I came, I remember loudly uttering several times 'Obrigado!' to her, which means 'Thank you!'. This, unfortunately, was the only word I remembered from my trips to Brazil. Looking back, I think I sounded like a complete fool.

Despite T's beauty and excellent service, I only saw her two times. She's expensive.


M, the Michelle Rodriguez lookalike

Her flat was in the Bayswater area. I was a bit nervous as I was afraid of bumping into two of my mates who live on the same street.

Nobody answered the door when I rang the bell, which made me more nervous. I called the agency & the receptionist said she will ask M to call my cell. Her bell, it turned out, did not work. But she appeared at the door just as I was walking up the third time to ring it again.

M's profile photo at the website only showed her body, with the head cropped out. I generally avoid such escorts, but this particular body was very well-toned & fit. I thought what the heck & chose her. I figured that I could always leave if it was a bait-and-switch case.

I was not disappointment. She had a very lean athletic figure. Her face resembled the actress Michelle Rodriguez, who is not bad to look at (despite the latter's butch persona, which I do not like).

Her flat was a tiny studio in the basement. She said she had a flatmate, who was hiding somewhere in the corridor outside.

The session was like a vigorous gym workout. It was also summer time and we were both sweating like crazy. I liked this as her sweat had a very pleasant smell that turned me on. She liked licking my wet chest.

She was eager to please and asked if I had particular request for certain positions, which she obliged.

But I pulled a thigh muscle during a complicated doggy contortion and so they session had to end with cowgirl, and I got my load a short while later.

After I had showered and had only a towel around my waste, she called her flatmate in and introduced her to me. M wanted to set me up with her as another possible escort I could session with, maybe even a threesome. The flatmate was new and eager to start escorting as soon as she can. I was thus put in an uncomfortable position. But I was lucky because the flatmate was gorgeous, even more gorgeous than M. I was, apparently, a nice client, and a good first person for her flatmate to be with. I said okay and promised to call M directly, bypassing the agency, for a session with the flatmate.

This was all several years ago. I am trying to remember why the thing never happened. I think it was because M never answered my calls or texts. Or maybe it was because her number had been disconnected.

I do remember not being able to find M's profile next time I checked her agency's website. I think I also went searching all the other escort websites, looking for any profile photo that resembled her or her flatmate, to no avail.

What a shame! I would have loved to do a Brazillian threesome and try a few more exotic positions. In fact I still have jpg images of those desired positions in my dropbox.

Italian at Earls Court

A work meeting I had that morning at Kensington High Street had been cancelled and so I had a couple of hours to spare. My apartment was only a short bus ride nearby; I could have just gone back to chill there and maybe masturbate a few times. Instead, I decided to call my favorite agency for a session with someone new.

I ensconced myself with a chamomile at a private corner in a nearby Caffee Nero, took out my laptop, browsed the website profiles and came up with a shortlist of 5 ladies. Finishing my drink, I went outside and called the number. The usual polite, cheerful & soft-spoken male receptionist answered. Unfortunately the first 4 in my shortlist were unavailable -- it was morning after all -- so I could only go with the 5th.

A few minutes later I got the address: a street near Earls Court station, which was located quite near my apartment. There was the risk that I could run into the escort again in the street or while I was shopping at Tescos. But I thought what the heck, I'm horny, and a boy's gotta have his morning load, doesn't he, or he won't be able to function productively in today's capitalist society.

In the crowded bus on the way to the Earls Court, I was involved in a confrontation. I noticed an elderly drunk bum yelling profanities & bothering a professionally-dressed young lady who was standing next to him. When he started poking and then grabing on her boob, I immediately shouted 'Hey! Watch it!'. I pointed my finger close to his face and then slowly changed my hand into a clenched first. The bum shrank into a tiny mouse. The young lady hurried to the front and got off.

The bus finally arrived at my destination. If memory serves me correct, the escort's flat turned out to be a basement flat located just a meter behind the bus stop. It seemed kind of strange going down and ringing the doorbell in presence of all the people up above & their noisy chatter. Then again, the scene reminded me a bit of the crowds in De Wallen, especially ones walking outside the Polish goddess's kamer.

The escort was a petite & slim Italian with a big bouncy ass, olive skin and large wondrous eyes. Unfortunately, she ain't no Agnietzska. She clearly just woke up a few minutes prior and did not even had the courtesy to shower or brush her huge Medusa-like hair. And she kept getting distracted by the texts that kept coming on her phone. Her bedroom was a mess, with laundry strewn across the floor, and the place smelled like feet.

I went ahead anyway, thinking the situation would improve. Her accent was kind of cute though.

But then the most disrespectful incident happened. While I was doing it, her in doggy position, that dastardly phone lighted up again. With her still in doggy and me still inside her, she took the phone & began tick tacking again on the keypads.

I should have gone thermonuclear but I think my response was sensible. I said I needed to pee & went to the bathroom. When I came out I had already washed and put my clothes back on again. I said I needed to go. She said ok and gave me a polite peck on the cheek. I returned to the bus stop outside, having only been in the flat for about 20 minutes.

When my bus arrived, I went to the upper level & texted a complaint to the agency. I knew that I would be shouting if had called them. The receptionist texted back a few minutes later with apologies & wrote that the amount I had already paid would be deducted from my next session with them. The following day, Italian girl's profile had been removed. This is what I call good customer service! (Unfortunately the agency closed shop about some time ago).

I was the only one in the bus's upper level, except for a gander of teenage girls at the back seats, probably playing truant or something. One of them shouted at me, asking for the time. I glanced at my phone & gave her the requested information.

Another shouted at me, asking if I had any fags (i.e. cigarettes). I said no.

Then another asked me if I would like a blowjob. I did not answer and went down to the lower level.

Edit: Remembering back, I think the receptionist only said he would deduct part of the money. I did however receive the discount during my next session.

A Thai near Finchley Road

Bangkok ain't the first place where I've been with a Thai lady. I've used some of the Asian escort agencies in London. My first Thai, whom I shall call Sweetie -- for she truly was a very sweet and submissive creature -- was my favorite.

The agency website showed one profile of a gorgeous woman of Malaysian nationality. She reminded me a bit of the Indonesian celebrity Acha Septriasa, whom I always thought was extremely gorgeous in a very feminine sort of way. But she was always busy & I failed many times to setup a session with her. I gave up at the nth try & asked for a recommendation from the receptionist, who then asked to me try this new girl Sweetie. I don't regret saying yes.

Sweetie's place was in a block of flats about a 15 minute walk from the Finchley Road tube station and passing the O2 center. I mentioned the O2 center because, after each session with Sweetie, I would feel so exuberantly happy that I sometimes needed to calm myself by dropping into the cinema there & watch a movie, any movie.

There were no doorbells at the entrance to her building, so I had to call the agency again to contact her to come down & open the front door.

She would greet me, all nice in sexy lingerie with a bathrobe over it. Smiling widely, her teeth wearing braces, she would gently take my hand and walk me to her flat (which kept changing locations in the building). I often felt nervous about encountering any of the other inhabitants, but this never happened.

A list of my memories with her:

(1) My first payment was short 20 quid. I panicked and found the missing bill stuck in the inside of the envelope. I handed it to her & apologized. She giggled and kissed me on the cheek.

As I turned away to leave Sweetie & walk to the door after my session was done about an hour later, she jumped at me from behind & hugged me tightly at the waist. She said, in that lispy voice of hers, 'I like you! You nice man.'

And my cold cold heart melted.

(2) We always began by bathing or showering together, with her wearing a cute shower cap, obviously taken from a hotel somewhere. The first thing she would do once I got wet was to start sucking on my nipples. She really loved nipples & would then spend a long time sucking and licking mine later when I was laying on the bed.

'Oh you love nipples!' I would say to her.

And she would reply, 'Yes I love nippor! Nom nom nom!'.

I would then tease her when we returned to the shower once the deed was done. 'Oh look how wet my chest is! I need to wash it!' & she would look embarrassed. Feeling guilty that I had hurt her feelings, I would then try to be extra nice to her by gently soaping her body all over, which she liked.

(3) That time when I kept my bottle of water in her fridge and was drinking it halfway during our session, and I had the idea of running its cold surface on her naughty & sensitive parts & she went mad with of pleasure.

I drank the cold water & then ate her out with my cold mouth, tongue & lips, & her body writhed spasmodically like a crazed beast & she shivered & came.

(4) That time when the lights in her bathroom went off & I was able to fix it by tinkering with the fuse box. This made me feel like a man, and like Don Draper in that scene from Mad Men where he wore a tight white army T-shirt & fixed the Campbells' broken kitchen faucet in view of several admiring females.

(5) That one time after I had thoroughly fucked her & made her cum. I turned away, intending to go drink the bottle of water that I had left on her kitchen counter. She surprised me from behind& began kissing my back, saying 'I love your beautiful body!' (I was quite fit & a regular gym-goer during that time).

'Then kiss every part of my body that you love!' I replied.

And she spent a long half hour doing just that, making me feel like an Adonis.

(6) That time when I only gave a 1 hour notice to her agency. Opening the building's front door and greeting me was an old Thai lady, who did not speak much English but was able to direct me to the flat, where Sweetie was only 75% ready. When I asked her about the old lady she said it was her aunt. She claimed that they had been shopping for lingerie near Green Park station when the agency called.

(7) That time when, after doing it for a while to her in missionary, I needed to rest for a second and approached the right side bed stand to take a sip from my bottle of water.

This movement caused my cock to be located about five inches in front of her face. I saw her looking at it admiringly and then began sucking it.

My bodily position, sitting on my knees spread apart over her head, was quite awkward. But she looked so happy, so earnest, so deliriously appreciative of my cock in her mouth that I came a short while later.

(8) That time when I was fucking her doggystyle very fast and hard, and then I suddenly halted so as to tease her, with just my head hovering halfway inside.

'Why stop?' she asked, and began backing up to continue the previous motions even more vigorously.

She was just about to reach climax when I inserted my pinky finger into her chocolate star. Her body turned to 'soggy noodles' and she shivered to orgasm.

(9) That time when it was summer & hot & she had opened the sliding glass doors of her basement studio flat by about 10 inches. I felt embarrassed because the glass doors faced the road outside and so I requested that she close them.

Three minutes later, when I was fucking her doggy, I then asked her to open them again as I was then suddenly in a exhibitionist mood.

As I thrusted into her, alternating between slow & sensual versus fast & hard, I was able to make eye contact with one or two surprised people sitting in the two or three buses that passed by.

(10) That time when she wore a full fishnet bodystocking, which sculpted her gorgeous figure to look even more tight and lovely.

I was so turned on that, once the door of her flat had shut, I immediately took off my pants and began jerking off. I would have fucked her then and there, but I did not want to ruin the immaculate outfit, which looked expensive.

She guessed what was going on & encouraged me by modelling her beautiful body in a variety of positions.

(11) That time when I successful in cumming 5 times during a two-hour session with Sweetie. She was a sport about it & rose to the challenge. I tipped her later.

(12) That time when I memorized, with the help of google translate, a few romantic Thai phrases and recited them to her. I also sang a few lines that I memorized, with the help of youtube, from Bird Thongchai McIntyre's famous 'Sabai Sabai' song. Sweetie was so impressed & so happy by the gesture that she jumped at me, hugged me tight & did not let go until she had kissed me deep in the mouth 20 times.


At some point after I had done several sessions with her, Sweetie's profile on the agency website suddenly showed she was on holiday. About a year after that, her profile disappeared from the website altogether and, another year after that, the website itself disappeared.

This was all before my first trip to Thailand. I have a vague memory of her telling me that used to work in one of the gogo bar areas in Bangkok, but I have forgotten the details. Sometimes, when I am in Nana, Soi Cowboy or Patpong, I would have the anticipation of seeing her. But this hope has never been realized and, over the years, I have forgotten about Sweetie & the great times I had with her. In fact, I would not have thought about Sweetie again if I was not writing these reports.

(Sorry if these posts are too tl;dr, but I am trying to jot down every important memory so that I won't forget them.)

A-Levels with A

The most beautiful escort I saw in London was a blond whom I shall refer here as A. I forgot what country she said she was from, but I think it was Ukraine or Poland. I also forgot where I saw her, but I think it was this place about a 15 minute walk from the Baker St station.

Her flat had a dingy look but her bedroom was very clean and nicely decorated, with fresh flowers on the bed stand & floral patterns for the bed sheets as well. I remember that there were some small exercise dumbbells underneath her bed. But A said they belonged to another girl.

A had a fit body, with gorgeous big & natural boobs & a thin waist. Her ass was big & round & hard. She had the most gorgeous wide smile I had ever seen & also lovely white skin that was soft pink in all the naughty areas: her nipples, her pussy & asshole.

I loved her wide shoulders. They reminded me of those celebrities who used to be popular in the 1980s. She said she used to compete as a swimmer when she was in school, which was why those shoulders were so well-developed.

A had a very sentimental & nostalgic personality. She told me a few stories about her school days, and about all the boys she had crushes on. I reciprocated & offered a few stories about myself as well. But I always held back when it came to personal details from my civilian life. (I was also very reserved back then, and I probably still am very reserved now). So most of my stories involved my mongering experiences. My telling her about my times in De Wallen brought some nostalgic reminiscences from her about that magical city we all love.

She admitted she used to escort in Amsterdam as well, working from a hotel whose name I forget, but I distinctly remember her saying it was near Dam Square. But she did not get good customers & the money was also not good, which was why she moved to London. Maybe she also told me she used to escort in the States as well, but I am not sure if my memory is correct.

With her beauty & her happy vibe, it was very quick & very easy for me to cum every time I had a session with her. She let me have at least two pops for every session. Her favorite position, it seems, was cowgirl, and it was very effective one for me as well. Two times, with her on top of me & me inside her, she did not even have to move at all & I still came.

For the first, she simply gave me a long DFK & slurped hard at my lowerlip enthusiastically, and I came. For the second, she just gave me that wide, gorgeous & slightly mischievous grin of hers, raising her eyebrows several times as if something was up. I could feel her vaginal pelvic muscles clenching firm at my cock several times & I came hard.

For my last session with her (she told me she was going to retire the following week) I requested A-levels. I had only recently learned that she offered it, as only one of the agencies had accurately listed her range of services.

I had my first pop - a very slow missionary. Then we cleaned & rested & chatted for a bit. She let me play with every area of her body. She said she always liked that I knew how to touch a women. Then she said she her ass was ready. She gave me a nice luxuriating BJ, put the condom on & continued with the BJ until I was nice & hard. Then she said she could not wait any longer & bent over in doggy, pointing that masterpiece of a derriere.

As I've written before, I love watching A-levels in porn, but I am usually very hesitant in doing it so often, due to my phobia of seeing the brown substance. So I was quite nervous with A's ass. She asked me to put it in slowly, which I did. Then, for some reason - I forgot why - I quickly took it out again.

This unexpected movement really hurt her asshole. She collapsed on the bed, wincing in pain.

I was afraid that she would go thermonuclear at my mistake, so my first instinct was to back away & cover my cock with my hands to protect it. But I was more afraid of having injured her. I patted at her back, saying sorry multiple times. Even thought she was wincing, her face still had that wide smile, so she was not angry. She told me the pain would go away very quickly. It did, and she immediately said we can try again.

(A few weeks later I was with The Sorceress of the Dark Arts, Gabriella, and came to experience a bit of the same pain. The asshole is a very delicate contraption. It cannot be tense & has to be very hospitable for something to enter it & give it pleasure. This is why A-level is such an intimate experience. Gabriella had a small buttplug for males & said I should try it. The first time having a foreign object in there was very uncomfortable & a million sensations rushed into by brain. The pain was hell when she took it out quickly at my begging. But there wasn't, to my surprise, any bleeding & the pain very quickly & very magically subsided after about 45 seconds. And an hour later, after the session was done & I had left Gabriella's nice place & was strolling around the Leicester Sq area, I had this strange feeling of exuberant cosmic exhilaration that I cannot completely describe in words. It was as if my entire being had loosened up & I felt as if anything was possible. I felt that, if a grizzly bear suddenly appeared, I could wrestle it down to the ground. So Dr. Freud was somewhat correct: a buttplug in the ass is a great temporary cure for neuroticism & anal-retentiveness.)

So I continued with A with A-levels in various positions.

Doggy. Then missionary, which was my favorite as I absolutely loved her moaning & her facial expressions, especially how one side of her upper lip curls up when I thrust into her. Then, cowgirl, and then reverse cowgirl. Despite the fear of getting my cock crushed, seeing that majestic ass bouncing up & down was so nice.

I came so hard that I almost blacked out for a few seconds.

As we had cleaned up & I was putting on my clothes, again I could not help but admire that beautiful face & body. The dial in my brain was set on stupid. I asked her the usual stupid question that blokes ask when mesmerized by beauty:

'Uh, are you a model?'

She said yes, for a short while, when she was younger.

'Uh, I knew it!'

I asked her to do a catwalk in front of me and, from her poses, she clearly was experienced. She reminisced a bit about those times, posing for fashion shows & for magazines back in her home country. It was great fun. But her father did not like what she was doing - he thought it was undignified - so she had to stop, reluctantly.

A short awkward silence came between us when she admitted this to me. I am sure she knew the question that was hovering in my mind. But both of us wisely ignored it & we changed topics.

When I was combing my hair, she revealed to me that she had been using her earnings to build a family home for her elderly parents. The house was large, with many bedrooms, and a facade of Graeco-Romanesque columns in front. It was only one-storey because she did not want her elderly parents climbing up stairs.

Like a child reciting to me all the fun toys she wants for Christmas, A's face brightened up as she told me about all the cool things she had paid to be installed in her family home: towel warmers, a jacuzzi, a massage armchair, and even a floor heating system, not just inside, but also on the pavement outside to melt the snow. She must love her parents a lot.

My heart aches when I recall the last image I have of that beautiful beautiful face when I left that dingy flat for the last time: that warm, soothing & contented look, like a monk who has finally found inner peace in life.

A-levels with E, and problems with agencies

There is another lovely blond who was so kind as to let me put it into her behind. She had a gentle demeanor. Her skin was smooth and soft and her boobs were small. She had a cute nasal voice that turned into an almost cartoonish giggle when she was amused. Let me call her E.

Through no fault of her own, my first session with E did not go so well as I was unable to perform. I had a bad day at work & decided to call one agency that I tried before. I decided to see a particular English lady, V, whom I knew also maintained a popular blog about her escorting exploits.

There was a lot of static on the line and I misheard the reply by the grumpy receptionist. I thought she said 'V is not available', when she actually said 'What time?'. The receptionist snapped and started shouting at me through the phone. This had never happened to me before & I was surprised at the sudden confrontation. We finally set the appointment. The last thing the receptionist barked out to me was 'Don't be late!'.

While showering in preparation for the appointment, I became angrier & angrier. WTF was that? A receptionist is supposed to be pleasant & polite. There's a lot of competition among the many London agencies and it's a buyer's market. There was no way that I was rude to her. If anything, my problem was my timidity. And I was not late for my previous appointments with the escorts I used.

I was even angrier at myself because I should have stood up to her, instead of being the meek mouse that I was.

I knew that I would not have forgiven myself if I went ahead with the appointment. And there was no way that agency was getting my money. But I did not think it would have been right to the escort if she waited for me. So I texted the agency again to cancel & to scold them for their rudeness.

The reply I got back was curt: 'Ok.'

Later I learned that the receptionist, who was also the agency owner, had a reputation for unprofessionalism when it comes to handling her girls & also for being thin-skinned when it comes to responding to criticisms about herself on the UK punting forums. I also learned that the owner was under police investigation during that time for something related to her business, although she was later exonerated. Maybe her grumpiness was due to stress from her court appearances & because of the way the tabloid media was reporting about her at the time. Then again, I would not have used her agency if I knew that the police was currently investigating her. There was even the story of a notebook she kept that revealed details of all her customers & their particular 'predilections'.


Anyway, I never did eventually got to see V, the blogging escort. Instead I called a different agency to set a date with J, my absolute #1 regular, whom I've seen many times (& whom I will write about in later posts).

She was available & the agency texted me the address - which was not her usual place. I texted back to make sure & a while later the agency confirmed that she had moved places.

This place turned out to be in a large building near Paddington Station that I had been a few times before, to see a different lady, who was my absolute #2 regular (& whom I will also write about in a later post). Luckily the address I got was for a different floor, so my two regulars were not flatmates. Then again, living so close, they could know each other. But I decided to take my chances. So in I went.

A redhead greeted & smiled at me at the door. I could hear sounds of other girls from inside the flat.

The redhead led me to a bedroom & closed the door. She was very cute, but I was there to see J, my #1 regular.

'So, where is she?' I asked redhead.

'Who?' she asked back.

I gave her J's name. Redhead said that SHE was J.

'No, you are not J,' I replied. 'I've seen her before many times. I've used this agency before.'

This was clearly bait-and-switch. But it won't work because I have seen the real girl in question many times.

Redhead knew her deal was up - I could see it in her facial expressions & body language that failed to hide, under a belligerent exterior, the panicking. But what annoyed me that she tried arguing with me, and her voice getting louder & ruder by the second, saying that she was really J in the agency website. Redhead was actually very beautiful. I recognized her from a different profile in the website & had actually been planning to see her sometime in the future. But her arguing clearly showed me she thought I was an idiot.

I put on my coat & left.

From a stall in the Paddington Stn loo, I sent angry texts to the agency. I threatened to send a bad review on the UK punting forum. The agency replied with apologies, even calling me 'darling': 'Don't be angry, darling', 'Sorry, darling', 'It's not my fault, darling', 'I did not know, darling'.

They also had also been, apparently, tricked by the girl's representatives. It turns out that there is a second agency representing the girl. This is all getting too complicated.


I hated being in a horny & angry condition. Using my phone, I surfed the website of yet another agency, made my selections & called them. My first choice was only a 10 minute walk away & was available in an hour. So I booked the appointment.

This is the blond girl E, the subject of this post. She lived in a luxurious apartment building (luxurious by my low standards) halfway between Paddington & Marble Arch. There was a uniformed doorman & I had to fill my details in the guestbook before he allowed me to go to the elevator.

Mineral water bottles were piled at one corner of E's bedroom, along with a Dorothy Perkins paper bag, filled with condoms. The only other thing I can remember about this session was my inability to cum. I was clearly very worked up & also tired from what had been happening. I was able to get it up and we tried a few times before giving up.

The day was not all bad. On my walk back I discovered this great Indian burger joint that served the most heavenly peri-peri crispy chicken, way better & way cheaper than Nando's. I would end up going to the joint at least once a fortnight for the rest of my time as a Londoner.


In fact, I also tried the peri-peri chicken the second time I went to see E. I needed to finish the deed with her, probably to prove something to myself and to her. Unfortunately she only comes to London for three-week stays about two times a year, so I had to wait another six months to catch her again. I passed the burger joint again and entered again on impulse. But then I opted for takeaway upon realizing that kissing & licking after eating peri-peri could burn her beautiful skin.

The doorman of E's building mistook me for a food delivery boy and did not ask me to fill my details in the guest book.

E only began to recognize me after about 10 minutes into our time together in bed. She remembered the way I touched her, my 'magic fingers'. For some reason, we hit it off this second time around and she started revealing a bit about herself & her life, even talking about her customers.

She got really annoyed when I expressed disbelief when she said I had a big cock. I knew that I was normal in length and girth (I've measured and read the statistics), but she said her knowledge is more reliable as she has seen 'hundreds of dicks'.

At some point, we started talking a bit about our sexual fantasies & celebrity crushes. She said she had a thing for Vin Diesel (which, for some reason, seems to be quite common among a lot of WGs that I've asked). I said that my fantasy was to do her anal but the agency website did not list it as her offered service. She smiled and said it was extra and she would do it if I asked nicely. I said a single and very long 'pleeeeeeeeeeaaaase' until I ran out of breath. She laughed & spent about 20 minutes in the bathroom getting ready.

Her asshole had the rough taste of soap when I licked it later, but the A-levels experience was divine. I don't know the standard terminology for the three positions we did, but on sexinfo101 they are called 'rear entry', 'teaspoon' and 'bodyguard'.

She particularly loved the last position, her favorite movement being when I take it out slowly until only the head is left inside her ass. Her happy face when anal, with her eyes opened wide in ecstasy, and her heavy, almost gasping, breathing, is more intense and more visceral than when pussy-fucking.

I squeezed both asscheeks with my hands & came while deep inside her. She asked not to take it out just yet and wanted us both to lie in bed with me spooning her -- a request I granted until time was up and we cleaned and I left.

I see her profile on agency websites from time to time. It appears she just had implants.

Thanks for posting these reports; they're very well written, and sounds like you have some great memories!

I started out with the UK escort scene myself and had a few fantastic experiences with the girls there, but having never been to London and only read about the London escort scene, I've always been fascinated by it. It just seems like a different world to Amsterdam or elsewhere (including the UK outside of London). Hopefully I'll get to experience London for myself one day.

X, my #2 regular

X is the escort that I've seen the second most times. During our second or third session, she gave me her cell number for me to setup appointments directly, bypassing the agency, with a small discount for my benefit. I then saw her regularly over a six month period from July to December that year.

The probable reason for the frequency of my sessions was her talent for conversation & her willingness to be emotionally intimate. This often made for a soul-shattering GFE. She told me her real name, even though I did not ask. She talked about her personal issues, particularly her guilt of lying to her mother back home about the real reason she was in London.

And she told me this during our first session. Perhaps something had happened that day that made her vulnerable and she just needed a sounding board to vent and talk to. X said that I was a nice and gentle person - albeit very shy & hesitant at first. She also said that I had the sort of boyish & sincere face that made women like her want to open up & reveal their deepest thoughts & insecurities.

She particularly liked looking deeply into my eyes while running one hand down the side of my cheek and the other hand caressing my hair while calling me her 'beautiful bad boy'. Her heavy breathing smelled so sweet. Even when her face was at rest, her penetrating dark eyes had this focused, severe and almost stern look that I found to be intensely attractive (even though they reminded me a bit of Zinedine Zidance's eyes sometimes). After we had cleaned up at the end of each session, she would ask if she could help me put on my clothes & comb my hair. She seemed to like doing it - and who am I not to let a beautiful woman treat me like a king? (or a little boy).

Maybe this was all a classic trick that escorts do in order to get into us client's heads & make us fall in love with them. But the truth did not really matter to me.

There was one time, though, when I was fucking her missionary & I was just about to cum, being so turned on at how much she seemed to like it, when X suddenly asked to stop. She went to the wall behind me to adjust one painting frame that was slightly askew. Apparently the asymmetry annoyed her. I did not think much of this incident but it occurred to me later that this was a sign that she had been pretending about her pleasure and wasn't paying attention to the sex and was actually distracted, even bored.

Maybe this need to keep everything all neat was also a symptom of a slight streak of anal-retentiveness in her. Not that we ever did A-levels. I don't remember ever asking her, even though I wanted to do it so badly because her butt was so gorgeous & so firm, with the most delicious-looking butthole that was the same color as her smooth & evenly toned olive skin. (I absolutely love it when a woman's private parts are the same color as the rest of her skin - don't know why). Many times, while doing it to her doggy & looking down at that gorgeous butthole, I was just able to restrain myself from going down to kiss, lick and eat it. For some reason, I was afraid of what she would think. But, then, all I had to do was to imagine myself fucking that ass and I would cum very quickly.

I did however eat her beautiful pussy. I loved its yogurty taste and smell, and I loved how she would hold my hair firmly with both her hands to guide me until she came. When this happened her pleasure was so intense that she did not realize that she had almost accidentally strangled me with those thighs of hers.

One time she surprised me by preparing a dish from her home country. I forgot the name but it was rice, beef & vegetables rolled in cabbage leaves. It was delicious. We then had a nice conversation about food (she is something of a foodie) and about the London restaurants that each of us had been. At some point we set a specific date to go out to some Malaysian place in Soho after she returns from the Christmas holidays.

This was to be my first time outside with an escort, and I was excited, even more so since I never had Malaysian food before. Unfortunately the thing never happened and I did not see her again. In my emotional fragility during the lonely Christmas week (I was depressed because I could not visit my family in the States because of work), I became enamored with a particular Romanian escort with big breasts, a slim figure and a dirty mouth, whom I then saw twice a week over a month and a half period. I don't know why I did not return to X when that obsession fizzled out. Probably out of guilt and shame. I had also lost her number after accidentally deleting it from my cell.

When I saw X for that last session before Christmas, she ended our time together by confessing that she had wonderful experiences with me and that if, somehow, we were unable to meet again after Christmas, then she wished me a happy life. I guess she was used to clients suddenly stop coming and she wanted to make sure she gave me one last message, just in case. I guess this was also why she did not text me to confirm our planned Malaysian food outing when she returned to London a few weeks later.

I remember being extremely touched by her confession. Maybe I fell in love with her during those few seconds. I gave her a deep kiss on the lips and promised that I will return, whatever happens.

Turns out I'm a liar and a coward.

The funny thing is that now, living at the other end of the world, I eat Malaysian food every day.

Cheers. The London escort scene is quite varied, with a little something for everyone, except there are no window girls like in AMS or FKK like in Germany.

Riri

I will call her Riri, not because she looks anything like Rihanna, but because she likes singing her songs. Her voice was nice and sensual and she can reach the high notes. And she sings it out when she is undressing and putting on her clothes, and even louder while in the shower.

It so happens that her flat is just off Kensington High Street, the location of a lot of music studio offices, but I don't think she has plans to be a singer. The flat is in a huge complex of buildings. I got lost the two times I was inside and had to text the agency again for help.

Riri's body was small, thin, and ballerina-like. Her skin was white and healthy, and her long and naturally blond hair flowed down the sides of her head like two golden rivers, reminding me a bit of a 60s hippie.

She said she was from Moldova. I admitted that I didn't know that country still existed -- I thought it was some old state from 100 years ago that used to be part of the Austro-Hungarian empire. This did not seem to annoy her, but she giggled at my ignorance.

Riri was always in an interesting outfit each time she greeted me at the door. She said she was still wearing what she had on for the previous customer. Roleplay and dressing up was her specialty, according to the agency website.

For my first session, it was a girl's sailor uniform, although it reminded me more of the main character in the Sailormoon anime.

For the second session, it was a full fishnet bodystocking outfit, with a flap in the back for her to unbutton and show me her tight tight tight ass and glistening pussy.

This made me wild with desire. At my perverted request, she had that outfit on the whole time during that session.

After giving me a BJ, I fucked her in the ass, missionary, while she played with her pussy using her Hitachi magic wand. Then we continued the same thing with her on top, cowgirl, and I came after being so turned on by her O face.

The cowgirl position had been intense for her. She hurt her back a bit and asked that I shower first so that she could rest for a while. When I returned, she was still lying on the bed, resting on her belly, and not at all singing.

I said I could give her a nice sensual massage to make her back muscles a little more tender. Riri said okay.

But then I said she would have to pay me one quid for my services. 'I'm not free, but I'm pretty cheap!' I told her.

She giggled again and said yes.

And so I had an excuse to play with her body for about a half hour. She did not say anything when my fingers sometimes wandered around her asshole and then her outer pussy area. But she gave a long deep moan when I kissed the back of her knees and also when I kissed the area between her shoulder blades.

During that time her agency also called to make sure she was okay and that I, the customer, had left. Riri placed a finger to her lips, signaling me to be quiet, and then lied to them.

The massage was done and I showed her my oil palms and said 'One pound, please.'

Riri went underneath the bed, came up with a large rusty cookie tin box, and fished around inside. It took a while but she finally found the coin and paid me.

I said 'Thank you, maam', put on my clothes, and merrily went my way, humming 'Penny Lane' on my way out.

As amusing, and appreciated, as these stories are, for guys looking for actual hook-up information they don't really help much. It would be useful to know which of these are, say, within the last couple years. And if they are within the last couple years it would be useful to know how to contact these gals or agencies.

Like I said, the long stories are appreciated...but...

Pay attention, it's in the first post ;)



I did enjoy these stories and the tone of wistful nostalgia, feels pleasantly voyeuristic reading them......although not as voyeuristic as getting an eyeful from the top deck of a London bus, LOL. It's a nice overview that gives an interesting peek into the London Escort scene, I'd not really heard too much about this kind of "incall" scenario where you go to the escort's apartment.

As an aside it reminded me of the UK TV series Secret Diary of a Call Girl which for general entertainment is worth watching on DVD or internet for anyone who hasn't seen it. There's no nudity but Billie Piper looks hot in lingerie....

To quote a nationally known politician from Texas...

oops!

J, my #1 regular

I am not quite sure why I saw this black-haired Russian so many times. Her face was pretty average and her front teeth were kind of wonky. But her body was absolutely divine, the most gorgeous of any lady that I had been with: a slim and athletic figure like a ballerina; long sensual fingers; medium-sized boobs; the firmest of asses; and the most velvety-soft of skins that was alabaster white in color and rose-pink in all my favorite places.

Not to mention probably the most gorgeous pussy I had ever seen. Just the right size, just the right shape. A cute clit, just slightly peeking from outside its hood, that needs to be kissed and licked and sucked impatiently, like if you're sucking the sweet juice from a slice of mango. I could honestly eat that pussy for hours until I get lockjaw.

But I guess the main reason for my frequent visits was this: J was the only escort with whom I felt comfortable being myself and revealing my most private thoughts. There was something about her vibe that made me feel so uninhibited about saying anything that came to mind. I loved talking to her, especially while playing with her body and marveling at her beautiful skin and pussy.

But what I found most attractive about J was her fierce intelligence. She did not have much schooling, and it did not seem that she reads books or keeps up with current events. But the way she thought and interpreted things was very unique and profound. I would make some remark about something, and her response almost always provided a novel view. I generally have a healthy ego with regard to my own mental aptitude. But the way J understood things was extraordinary and there were many times after she made a philosophical remark when I would stare at her, maybe my mouth agape, and asking myself 'Oh sweet creature, where did you come from?'.

Perhaps I had fallen in love with her a bit. No, I'm not sure.

She was very particular about following the rules. She went for health and STD checkups twice a month. She claimed she saw me walking outside alone in London many times, but she never approached me. The rules, according to her, were that she was not allowed to talk to a previous customer unless he signaled first. This was to protect his privacy and also to avoid charges of solicitation.

For an escort, she was surprisingly sincere and forthright. She sometimes recounted memorable experiences with some customers (or 'friends' as she call them), and their various requests. She told me what she likes during foreplay and sex. She also told me that she finds women making loud moaning sounds during sex to be ridiculous and insincere. They sound so stupid when she hears them in porn movies. 'No woman moans like that,' according to J.

She also told me which parts of my body that she found attractive, and also which parts were unattractive. The problem is that she would often repeat the latter many times during our sessions together, as if she thought I had forgotten them. I did not think much of this and, at first, took it as simply her idiosyncratic way of teasing me or maybe negging me as a trick to help lower my guard.

Sometimes, when we were really comfortable conversing, she would divulge a bit about her personal life. Her childhood and teenage years as an orphan and then as an abused young bride had been terrible, and she revealed the details to me in a matter-of-fact way without any hint of trying to elicit any sympathy. It appears that she was now happy with her independent life in London, with lots of friends among the other Russian and East European escorts, and weekends playing sports and walking in parks. When an expose on Russian tv revealed screencaps from the agency website, some of the escorts' covers were blown and they had hell to pay from their families. But J said she had no problems since, for a long time, she has had no one.

She absolutely loved being kissed, especially when I held her hands down and gave her lengthy DFK. And she also liked it when I held both sides of her head with my hands, brushed my lips gently against hers, and impatiently sucked on her tongue and lowerlip.

Sometimes I would teasingly pull back when she impatiently approaches to kiss me. She would respond by punching me on the shoulder and call me a 'bad bad boy' -- a name she would repeat to me while giving me HJ and BJ later. I would then say sorry and, to make up to her, proceed to kiss her neck all over and lick the sensitive insides of her ears. Her face would have a look of such ecstatic abandon that her eyes would roll back upwards and her lowerlip would shake uncontrollably.

My favorite part about my sessions with J: the opening ritual we had somehow established. She would appear at her door, all naked except for the silky red robe she wore. I would greet her by playfully touching her nose with my finger. She would respond by grasping the bulge in my pants and pulling me inside, leading me to her bedroom. Seeing her back turned, I would poke her asshole through her robe and she would squeal 'Oooh!' in delight. Turning her head back and giving me that cute mischievous grin, J would lift her robe to reveal her bare white ass so that I could continue poking it. I would do so without hesitation, and she would respond by uttering that sweet horny sound of 'sssss...'

One time an naughty idea came to me while I was giving her my usual long cunnilingus. J was just about to climax and I surprisingly stopped. She begged me to continue and I said I would only do so if she agreed to marry me. I was only kidding, of course. But she became really irritated. She said that men will only be in love with the image of her, not the real her.

Despite the connection he had, for some reason she would never allow anything more than a vanilla session. I found this very strange since, from the agency website and from forum reviews, I knew that she does a whole lot more, including A-levels, CIF and CIMS. Whenever I asked her for something extra, she would stare at me for about 2 seconds and give a very stern and firm 'No.' I was not the kind of person that wants to force it, but the contemptuous way she said it always bothered me. Yet I kept coming back.

But, in the end, what really bothered me was her revulsion of being spooned. I tried doing it once and she pulled away with a look of disgust. Perhaps the emotional vulnerability of the position caused her discomfort due to her distrust of men. Then again, perhaps intimacy with me repulsed her. I did not cum for that session.

Was I so physically unattractive to her? That experience, plus the times she mentioned about my physical attractiveness, finally led to me to stop seeing her.



I moved on to other ladies. About nine months after that, I decided to stop playing for sex in London altogether. The price versus expected outcome ratio was not worth it.

I began dating again as a civilian man. After the end of two short and unsatisfying romantic flings, I fell into a depression and, once again, began surfing the escort agency websites. I rediscovered J's profile and, remembering her sweet sweet pussy, I decided to see her again.

Her new place was an apartment about a 7 minute walk from Paddington Station and it took me a while to find it as some of the walking routes had been closed. I forgot the occasion but there was some night festival in the area. There was a big crowd. People were blowing those noisy and annoying vuvuzelas.

J was surprised to see me. She thought I had forgotten her. I did not reveal the reason for my absence and, instead, asked if she missed me. She thought for a while and said 'A little.' She tries to avoid missing her customers so much because it was not healthy.

I said I did not miss her at all because she had been a 'naughty naughty girl'. She replied by once again calling me a 'bad bad boy'.

And so our previous rapport was quickly re-established.

For some reason, she had bathed her bedroom in red light, like the kamers at Amsterdam's De Wallen. Perhaps she wanted to hide something about her appearance, but I was not sure what. Her body was still quite slim, but I noticed that her fit ballerina figure was gone and, when I pulled down her pants, I saw that her ass had become a little bigger and saggier.

While I ate that sweet pussy that I so missed -- which made me cum the first time that night -- we updated each other about what had been happening for the past year. Her profile had only been up again on the agency listings for about a week before I called her. She said she had been planning on leaving the escorting profession and returning to school.

When I entered her pussy later, it was so tight that I could not almost get it in. She apologized, saying she had been 'on holiday' for some time and her pussy was not yet loose.

I asked J what I should do. She said I should fuck her ass instead. I immediately said yes, finally fulfiling my long-held fantasy.

As I thrusted into that ass, J did something she never did with me before. She started giving these deep and very loud grunts and moans, as if they were erupting from something darkly animalistic from within her being. This surprised me.

Were they real?

They were so loud I thought we would disturb the neighbors or that her flatmate would burst in, thinking that I was hurting her. But nothing of the sort happened.

Hearing those loud and almost feral moans turned me on. I pumped pleasure into her ass harder and faster. Her deep and loud sounds became more brutish, more enthusiastic, appreciative and beastly, and they then quickly turned into deep and loud howls of explosive pleasure.

I could hear the faraway sounds of vuvuzelas from outside. The bedroom window was open, showing the dark night. Seeing J in doggy position and screaming loudly reminded me of a savage wolf howling and yearning for the moon outside.

OAH! YA! OAH! YA! OAH! YA!...

At some point, she started writhing spasmodically. She turned back her head to look at me, her eyes blinking madly and her mouth gasping. I held her down her arms with my hands. She came, and I came as well, a second time. She collapsed flat on the bed.

I ended by kissing and sucking on her neck, calling her my 'good, very good, girl'.

'No,' she protested. 'I'm a naughty girl! Didn't you just call me that?'

That was the last time I saw J. In fact, that was to be my final p4p experience in London.

Her profile disappeared from all the escort agency websites about two weeks after that final encounter. For nostalgic purposes, I took the effort of saving all her profile photos from the agency websites. They are all blurry and all had been generously photoshopped by her photographer.

Sometimes, I would use them for my daily wank sessions. I guess I still miss her a lot, but I hope she is happy and content with her current life, wherever she is. Despite the sweet and the bitter, and whatever she really thought of me, I will always cherish my times with her, and life must go on.

I agree that the information here has little direct utilitarian value for others, particularly since the recounted experiences are from many years back. Almost everyone I mentioned here has retired. I have only divulged details that I can and am willing to divulge. But I will end with a list of tips.

I came to find some tips for P4P as I have an upcoming business trip to London. I stayed for the magnificent stories and the fact that this could be turned into a beautiful and melancholy movie. Wonderful!

Izzie - if you're still around one thing could be helpful.. If you could mention the agencies you did use and which ones were more reputable?

Personal Opinion & Tips about Agencies

I used many different agencies. Most of my favorite ones have closed. The best one -- not just my opinion but also by general reputation at the time -- was Bunnies of London, which closed shop about 4 years ago.

The rosters of ladies overlap a lot between the agencies website listings. One escort can be listed in as many as several dozen and under different names. I have discovered that there is only so much quality-control that a front desk agency can do, due to legal reasons. Not to mention they often have to deal with the middle agency that directly manages the ladies's schedules. And it is usually the middle agency, not the front-desk agency, who should be blamed if a bait-and-switch incident occurs.

Customer preferences vary widely, it seems. But, for me, besides the price, I generally care that the photo roster of ladies is good and provides a huge selection. And that the receptionists I call are polite, helpful and give accurate extra information. I've never had problems with the addresses they've texted me, as I had google maps on my phone.

Like some punters, for some reason I seem to like speaking to a male voice behind the line (although I've forgotten which agencies had this). Not sure why. I guess I feel that a bloke would understand or empathize better with my desires, particularly if you are the type who might be a bit bashful about asking the receptionist to inform the lady to prepare for extras. I also don't neurotically feel that a dude is silently judging me on the other line. But that's just me being paranoid.

I also somewhat prefer agencies whose ladies work from flats (which fortunately is often the case for EE girls) instead of hotel rooms, as the hotel reception can give you trouble or at least make you feel uneasy when you pass by them.

You can google londonescortguide for a long list of agencies, and see which ones have the largest rosters. For EE ladies, I used Eternity Girls and Admiral Escorts a lot, as well as Diva and also Annas-Angels -- although the rosters of the four overlap a lot.

I've completely forgotten which Asian agency I used. The only thing I can safely say is to avoid the ones with photo rosters of only wide-eye Korean, Japanese and Chinese dolls, they're fake!

There are also smaller boutique agencies, like Maxes Angels and Bijoux, that list a lot of British ladies. A few agencies also feature a lot of real-life pornstars, even really famous ones, but I forgot which agencies. I've never used them, they're expensive!