The Graduate Escort

I had just turned 22. The previous year I had left university with a first-class honours degree in economics. Having secured a place on the graduate programme of a large accountancy firm, I had decided to take a gap year and go travelling.

One year later, the beaches of Thailand and Australia were a distant memory and I was getting used to the daily grind of living and working in London.

My life in London quickly settled into the type of routine that will be familiar to many young graduates starting out on their career journeys: very long hours, drinking excessively until the early hours, and then back in the office the next morning nursing the biggest hangover in history. And my typical weekend, if I wasn't working, involved drinking even more, going out clubbing and frequently waking up in bed with a random guy or girl, with no recollection of who they were or what we'd done.

Yes, I was really living the London dream!

Oh, and did I say? I really hated my flatmate!

I had been friends with Kirsty at university and therefore it had sounded like a good idea when she suggested we share a flat when we moved to London.

However, in the year since we'd left university, Kirsty had become a Christian and had turned into the dullest and most prudish person I'd ever met.

However, although I found her fucking annoying, one thing I could thank her for was the part she inadvertently played in getting me into escorting.

We were both sitting in the kitchen one evening when Kirsty said in the most disapproving way possible, "Lisa, you're not going to believe this. Julie told me today that she's been working for an escort agency for the last few months. She's actually on its website with her tits out! Do you think I should say something? Maybe I should try and convince her to stop?"

I tried hard not to laugh out loud. I was not naive. I was fully aware what escorts did, but I found Kirsty's puritanical response ridiculous.

The girl that Kirsty was talking about was a mutual friend from university. I was not particularly surprised to learn that Julie had become an escort. She was drop dead gorgeous, had an insatiable appetite for sex, and had fucked more people at university than anyone I knew.

I was really curious to see Julie's online profile.

As Kirsty launched into a lecture on morality, I nodded sympathetically and pretended to share her concern for Julie. I even bit my lip when Kirsty referred to the number of people that I had fucked since moving to London, implying that I was also a whore who was destined for hell.

However, as soon as i was alone in my bedroom I texted Julie, "Wow, I heard you are escorting - that's cool with me by the way. Please do send me a link? Lisa, xxx."

A minute later my phone pinged. Julie's message simply said, "Thanks Lisa, J x," followed by a website link.

I clicked on the link and was taken to a smartly designed homepage that promised, "Exclusive, high class, university educated English girls".

I clicked on the button labelled, "Meet the Girls" and was taken to a page which had thumbnail pictures of around 20 girls.

I spotted Julie immediately, although I noted that she'd adopted the pseudonym "Sienna" for her escorting activities. I clicked on her picture and was taken to her personal profile page.

Wow! Julie's page contained a dozen professionally taken photos, including pictures of her in a beautiful black dress and in sensual lingerie that perfectly showcased her enormous boobs and voluptuous arse. As Kirsty had reported, in one picture she was fully naked. Her magnificent breasts were on display, although her hands were strategically placed to obscure her pussy. My own hand instinctively slid into my knickers.

Julie's page also contained a short biography. Although she was using a fake name, most of what she had written about herself was true. Her page also listed her vital statistics, the sexual activities she enjoyed and her hourly rate. I stroked my clit as I read the reviews posted by some of her clients and I could feel my panties getting wetter.

As I flicked around the website I came to a page entitled, "Work for us", which included an online application form.

As the fingers of my left hand began to part my pussy lips and curl inside, my right hand instinctively started typing responses to the application questions.

In that moment I don't think I was intending to actually submit the application. I was simply finding answering the very personal questions while vigorously playing with myself a major turn on.

The application questions (and my answers) included the following: Height (5"5); Dress size (8); Hair (Brunette); Breast size (32B); Natural or enhanced (natural); Pubic hair (thin strip); Straight of bisexual (Bi); A-levels (sometimes).

My body started to tremble when I saw that I needed to upload two selfies to complete the application: one of my face and the other a full body shot standing in my underwear.

I urgently stripped off and snapped myself in my bra and panties in front of my full length mirror. I then uploaded the pictures onto my computer.

As I said, I wasn't planning to actually submit the application. However, I was horny as fuck and I felt an overwhelming urge to doing something that people would disapprove of. I clicked "send" and then frantically fisted myself until I reached an intense dripping orgasm.

A couple of weeks passed and in that time I became more and more obsessed with the idea of escorting. I was excited by the thought of sneaking off to a secret rendezvous, of acting out a client's filthy fantasy, and of lying to my friends and family about where I had been. Yes, I would be the model of professionalism and respectability at work, and in my secret life I would become a dirty, immoral, filthy rich whore.

I was actually starting to wonder whether my application had been unsuccessful. However, one morning I was sat at my desk at work when my phone rang.

My heart skipped a beat when I answered and the voice on the other end said, "Hi Lisa, this is Jen from the agency. I'm calling about your application to become one of our lovely escorts."

Jen asked if we could meet for lunch and suggested a 5-star hotel that was a tube stop away from my office.

As I walked into the hotel lobby I felt a surge of excitement run through my body. A woman immediately stood up and gave me a friendly wave. I assumed Jen had recognised me from my selfies.

Jen was an attractive blond woman who I guessed was in her late 30s. She was dressed in a tight jumper, skinny jeans, knee high boots and a huge diamond wedding ring. I imagined her as the devoted housewife who dropped her kids off at school in the morning and who had dinner waiting on the table for her husband in the evening. In between, she was running an escort agency, taking calls from rich men who wanted a girl to fuck for a few hours.

Jen immediately made me feel at ease, hugging me and complementing me on my choice of dress.

Over lunch we barely discussed escorting. Instead, like old friends we chatted about holidays, politics and life in London. I assumed this was Jen's way of testing how well I could hold a conversation with potential clients.

As we ate our desserts, Jen explained how the agency operated and how the booking fees were split between us. She then smiled and said, "Lisa, our clients will absolutely love you, please do tell me you'll join our agency!"

"I can't wait," I blurted out, without a second's hesitation.

Over coffee Jen explained that it would take a few weeks to arrange a professional photo shoot and to get my profile on the website.

I asked Jen if she had any tips for my escort bookings. She smiled and knowingly replied, "Look Lisa, you are a big girl so I'm sure you know what to do to make someone happy on a date, and how to satisfy them in the bedroom!".

I smile at Jen, wondering how many men she'd satisfied. I thought to myself how I could have happily spent the afternoon fucking her instead of going back to the office.

Before leaving we talked about the importance of staying safe and healthy when escorting, as well as how to stay on the right side of the UK's prostitution laws. Then, as we parted Jen gave me a warm hug and told me she would be in touch.

Back at work that afternoon I couldn't stop thinking about our meeting. I so desperately wanted to get started and wondered how long it would be before my first booking.

As it turned out, I didn't have to wait long at all. Later that same day my phone pinged and I saw a text from Jen, "Hi Lisa. Good news! A regular client asked about our new girls so I told him all about you. He would love to meet with you on Friday night, if you're available?"

Fucking hell! That was tomorrow! I was supposed to be going to a friend's birthday dinner but there was no way I was going to miss out on this booking. I texted Jen back, "Yes!"

Jen called me back to give me more details. I would be meeting a man called John at the same hotel where I'd had lunch with Jen. John wanted to spend the whole night with me and would be paying £2,000. I thought that was an insane amount of money!

Jen discussed some of John's preferences and kinks and suggested some things I might want to pack. She also asked me what pseudonym I'd like to use for the meeting. I told her I'd like to stick with my own name as I was bound to slip up with a made-up name. Jen finished by saying, "Have fun Lisa, and don't forget to pack lots of condoms!"

I spent the evening preparing. I wanted everything to be perfect. I packed two dresses: one a classy black number, the other a very slutty white mini dress. I added a couple of skirts and tops, a selection of my best panties, bras and stockings, as well as a pair of heels, ankle boots and trainers. I remembered that the hotel had a pool and spa so I also packed a swimsuit and bikini. Finally, I threw in a few of my favourite toys.

The next morning I took my small suitcase into work with me, telling colleagues I was going away for the weekend.

John had asked that I meet him in the same work clothes I'd been wearing all day. That morning I'd put on my navy knee length shift dress and, unbeknown to my work colleagues, underneath my dress I was wearing expensive stockings and my sexiest black underwear.

I left work at 5pm on the dot and treated myself to a taxi for the short journey to the hotel. I was meeting John in the hotel's famous champagne bar and, as I was a little early, I decided to get myself a drink while I waited.

I perched myself on one of the high chairs at the bar, parking my suitcase next to me, and ordered myself a double Gin and Tonic. This was just what I needed to calm my nerves and gave me a warm glow of confidence inside.

Just as I put down my glass my phone pinged. The text read, "Hi Lisa, that's a lovely dress. John xx."

I smiled - Jen had told me that John had a voyeuristic and exhibitionist side to him. I looked around the bar. There were half a dozen men in suits drinking on their own and I was't sure which one was John. I replied to his text, "Glad you like my dress, would you like to see what I have underneath it? L, xx."

I looked across the bar and spotted a man look down at his phone before looking directly at me. "Busted!" I mouthed to him silently across the room.

I eased myself of my chair, deliberately spreading my legs to give him a glimpse up my dress, and then walked over to his table.

John stood up to greet me and gently kissed me full on the lips. He was a middle-aged man, probably between 50 and 60 years old judging by his neatly trimmed grey hair.

I could feel others in the bar watching us. I was young enough to be his daughter and they probably guessed I was an escort. John clearly didn't care - he was loving the attention.

"Let's take your case to our room," John. suggested with an excited look in his eye. I nodded, and, for the benefit of the watching eyes, he place a hand on my bum as we walked to the lift.

We got into the empty lift and John pushed the button for the 10th floor. The lift was fairly rapid and the journey only lasted about a minute. However, John still managed to find time to put his hands up my dress and insert his fingers into both my arse and pussy. I was out of breath by the time the doors re-opened. I adjusted my dress as we walked quickly to the room.

By the time John swiped his key card and opened the door we were both horny as hell. As he closed the door I could tell by the look in his eyes that we were not going start with a slow session of love making on the bed.

I looked innocently into his eyes and then proceeded to unzip his trousers and pull out his cock. I quickly took a condom from my handbag, slid it over his stiff penis and then gave him a silent nod to indicate my consent to what I thought was about to happen next.

I was right. It was like I'd flicked a switch inside of John. He lurched forward like a wild animal. In one move he spun me around and pushed me hard against the wall.

Then in a second seamless movement he hitched my dress, pulled my panties aside and urgently rammed his cock in my pussy from behind.

He slammed his dick deep inside my cunt. I knew he wasn't going to last long. By his second thrust his cock was already twitching, and as it burrowed inside me for the fourth time I felt John reach a shuddering orgasm. It was a quick but intense fuck.

"Thanks, I needed that," said John sweetly.

"A pleasure," I replied, giving him a tender kiss before removing the condom and licking the final trickle of cum from his now softening penis.

"Shall we grab a shower?" I suggested.

I unzipped my dress and let it fall around my ankles. I then unhooked my bra, dropped my knickers, and slowly peeled off my stockings. His cock was sleeping but I noticed a little twitch that told me it would be awake soon.

We had a lovely warm shower together, spending almost an hour kissing and lovingly washing each other's bodies from head to toe. John expertly slipped his hand into my soapy arse crack, bringing me to my first climax of the evening. I then returned the favour, dropping to my knees and sucking his cock under the spray of the shower, eventually swallowing every drop of warm cum.

We dried and ordered room service, which included a lot of alcohol! We sat naked on the carpet enjoying our picnic.

Then sheer bliss. John decided the next hour should be devoted purely to pleasuring me. First he poured champagne onto my body and sucked it off my nipples. Then he drank the cold champagne from my pussy, before settling into a long session of oral. His tongue worked my clit, entered my pussy and rimmed my bum hole. I came again and again, squirting my juices all over his face. I couldn't believe someone was paying to lick me out!

Back on the bed, John fucked me in his favourite positions, taking his time and savouring every moment. First a beautiful missionary, our slow and sensual french kissing perfectly complementing his rhythmic pounding of my cunt. Next, I straddled him and fucked him cowgirl - his rock-hard cock drilling deep inside me. And finally doggy. John squeezed his cock into my tight anus, pulling out just in time to tear off the condom and spray cum over my breasts.

We collapsed into each other's arms, our sweaty cum soaked bodies intertwined, before finally falling into a deep satisfying sleep. I had completed my first assignment as an escort and had loved every minute.