Many of them, the usual. Claims of nymphomania, photos of pneumatic pornstar disproportion, profiles crudely made up of snippets cut from other profiles, boasts of magical powers of sexual entrancement. One or two, not even enterprising, just an unclear photograph and a telephone number.
Then finding one, authenticity shining through. Hi, my name’s Eleanor, I’m a student in London from Spain and I’ve run out of money so I’ve taken up escorting. I’ve always liked sex so I thought I’d give it a try. I’ve been doing it for two months, and love it. So I’ve set myself up in an apartment and put a profile on this website.
I also have a sexy friend available. She lives in the same apartment and is thinking about doing escorting. She is not here all the time but if you are lucky and she is hanging around when you come over, she might come in and join us. She may offer to suck your cock if you want to spend an extra twenty pounds. Don’t ask for her photo as she does not want to send one or have a profile. It’s just the luck of the draw. Come and see me and you might get a bonus.
Reading the profile, picturing the scene, finding it deeply sexual. Two women, maybe others in their apartment as well, making their way in London, accepting of sex with strange men as something normal, taking it as it comes, seeming to see it all as part of a great London adventure, leaving the future for another day. Free of society’s shackles, spurious cultural taboos, bogus religious prohibitions.
Add to hotlist, click. Not sure if it’ll come to anything, at the moment my first-choice escort is Jenny, and besides, it feels like Eleanor won’t be there long, some new opportunity will open up in her life and she’ll be gone. But adding her to my hotlist, it’s meant as a salute to a sparkling profile.
