Even as a child I was told that I was good looking boy and would have to fight off all the girls when I got older. I can remember pulling ugly faces at the thought of having anything to do with them; having a younger and an older sister sort of told me that girls were more trouble than they were worth. At the age of eleven or twelve, I could feel girl's inquisitive eyes upon me, and shivered at the thought of holding hands with one as some of the boys I knew did. By the time I hit fourteen my thoughts on the matter had somewhat changed, and it was my eyes that were doing the wandering, although I was too shy to do anything about it. At sixteen, I'd grown to a gangly six feet tall, my dark hair was fashionably long, and my doting sisters trained me in the art of dressing to look good, nothing flash, just jeans and tee shirts. The sun and the close beaches kept me bronzed, fit and entertained. And was then the girls came a flocking, or maybe it was just that I was ready to take notice of them.
I shouldn't go too much further with story without telling you about my family life. I was christened Andrew Napier, but everyone called me Andy. My mum and dad were absolutely the best parents in the world, they loved each other and never fought, well not when we were around anyway. My mother, a slim beautiful and graceful brunette owned a heart of gold. We children were pampered without being spoilt, and were taught all the things that would hold us in good stead for the future. My Dad was an absolute pillar of strength, strong, handsome; hard working and with a sense of humour that would have us frequently in stitches. Probably the most important things we learnt was respect, for ourselves and others around us, and to treat others how we would like to be treated ourselves. My dad was always polite and considerate around the opposite sex, and the same values were handed down to me. So when I started the inevitable dating, I in turn treated girls with some respect which I think kind of surprised them. I didn't do the usual rowdy showing off things that boys normally did, and that along with my good looks stood me in very good stead with the girls.
I won't bore you with all the sordid details of loosing the virginity thing, except to say that it was a very inept performance on my part, but I got the hang of it pretty quickly. My parents taught me and my sisters that sex was a very special thing that loving couples did. When we were young, we never opened my parents closed bedroom door, for we were told that scary things went on in there. As we got older, we obeyed the same rules but smirked knowingly at what was going on, we just thought it was disgusting that old people still did it. Anyway, the point I'm trying to make is that my girlfriends were treated well, and I never took the sex thing for granted, even though I really, really liked doing it.
My Dad was an electrician, and when I left school took me under his formidable wing as his apprentice. We worked well together with lots of laughs and tom foolery went on along with some very hard work. On my twenty fifth birthday; he told me he was retiring early and the business was mine, although he did help me on some of the larger jobs I couldn't manage alone. Those years would be some of the best in my life; for I was young, fit and motivated with money to burn. Not that I actually did burn money, for being frugal and saving for those rainy days was another thing instilled in me by my parents. I dated countless girls over those years, but as I got older, began looking for something more. I began to want a relationship that something more than sex and going out to have a good time. But it wasn't until I first laid eyes Danielle that I thought I'd found that person. The problem was, after our first date, she didn't want any part of me.
We first met at a friend's party, I'll never forget the moment she walked through the door, the poise and confidence and her big smile. She was tall with long fair wavy hair, her figure full of succulent curves. Her jeans tight enough to show the definition of her strong long legs. Eventually, our eyes met and held for a few seconds before she turned away. But from time to time that night, her eyes found mine, and we were eventually drawn to each other. We talked a lot that night over the boisterous noise of the party, and while we socialised with friends, it was with each other that we were most interested.
We parted that night full of enthusiasm after swapping phone numbers, and then met a couple of nights later over drinks. As far as I was concerned, our first date was full of promise, but my request of a second was politely declined. I was kind of surprised at her response, not at the put down, but because I was sure that she liked me as I did her. I rang Danielle a few times afterwards, we talked and she finally agreed to meet me at a cafe. After awhile, I conjured up the bravery to ask her why she didn't want to see me. Danielle confirmed that she indeed found me appealing, but didn't want to have to compete to have me, nor did she want to share me. I asked for an explanation, and this is how she put it, bluntly and directly.
She'd noticed how other girls looked at me and sometime flirted. My reputation was that while I was an okay guy to date, I played the field. I was further advised in no uncertain terms, that she gave herself body and soul to her man, and expected no less in return, and I was supposedly a bad risk. I let Danielle speak freely and without interruption before giving her my view of the world. I told her that I was enchanted by her from the first moment I laid eyes on her. After confessing that I had played the field, but I hadn't really found anyone that I loved enough to settle down with. I assured her that I could indeed be faithful, and all I wanted was a chance to prove myself worthy of her attentions. I then felt her eyes exploring mine for proof of sincerity before giving me a little smile.
It must have been enough, for Danielle agreed to date me, and I was the happiest man in the world. We did all the usual things that new couples did, walks on the beaches, movies and dined out. At no time did I attempt to lead her to my bed, but at no time was it far from my mind. We just settled for holding hands and the odd goodnight kiss, for I was definitely on my best behaviour.
I'll never forget the first time we made love. Danielle arrived at my apartment on a Saturday morning; I'd worked late the night before and was too tired to get together. We were sitting in the lounge on a large couch; it was positioned to catch the warm late morning sun. Our lips met and we snuggled close as our embrace became more passionate as our tongues played. With her arms around my neck, I let my hands wander over her dress caressing her gently. Eventually, my hands slipped to her breasts, and Danielle's deep sighs and little whimpers told me it was okay. Her breasts were soon free from her dress and bra, and her nipples gently suckled as my hand stole under her dress. She turned slightly to allow her legs to part, and my hand was soon stroking her smooth thighs and brief panties.
I was allowed to play unhindered for a short time before Danielle lifted her dress and pushed her panties downwards. I got my first glimpse of her lovely thighs and the trimmed triangle of where they met. My fingers were soon between those submissive thighs and the warmth of her lips. Between our kisses, her hand found my belt and with practiced expertise released my cock from its constraints. Danielle pushed me away and positioned herself unashamedly on the couch with her thighs spread wide, her smile inviting me between them. I was quickly in position and guiding my cock between her luscious lips for the first time, with gently little strokes, I eased my way inside her. She looked up at me as I did so, and asked me to be good to her always, and I gave her that promise.
I soon found out that sex with Danielle would come in two forms. Sometimes she would lie dreamily and submissively beneath me and let me ride her to my hearts content. Other times after socialising and drinking, she would then become the aggressor taking me anywhere at her whim; her love making and orgasms would be demanding, frantic and physical affairs leaving us both drained, but happily so.
Away from the bedroom, Danielle was a wonderful girlfriend. She was good looking, intelligent and funny with a perpetual smile on her face. She was affectionate but not clingy, and I was proud to have her at my side. While she liked to go out and party, she was also quite content to laze around watching a movie or read a good book. She was also fiercely independent, and while she would often stay over at my apartment, she wouldn't give up her room at her sister's house where she lived before we met. It was like she wanted to have somewhere to bolt to if it didn't work out for us. But as the months flew past, Danielle and I settled into a comfortable and stable relationship. I had nothing to do with any other girls, and when we were out together I made sure that I gave her all the attention that she deserved, and it was reciprocated in every way.
We'd been together for nearly a year when Danielle mentioned the travel thing. She'd always wanted to travel around Europe, and wanted to get it out of the way before settling down. When I explained that I couldn't just close my business down and go with her, Danielle became a little subdued over the whole thing. Over the following weeks, we discussed it and both came to the conclusion that she should go without me. Danielle managed to convince her sister Sharee to go with her and plans were then made. They booked a Contiki camping tour and then planned to work in London for a while. As the time for their departure neared, both Danielle and I feared for our future. As much as I desperately didn't want her to go, I cared too much for her to try and stop her. For her part, Danielle didn't want to lose me forever. As much as we hated not to, we made no promises to be faithful to each other, for we both knew it was too much to ask. But we did promise to keep in contact and see what the future would bring, and hopefully we would be together again. And on a wet Sunday evening, I kissed my lovely Danielle for the last time before she walked through the airport departure doors.
I could never hope to explain how lost I was without Danielle in my life. It was like I had no reason to be on this earth. I missed her company, her scent and her laughter, her exquisite love making and her loving touches. I was lost and unhappy. I threw myself into my work to help me forget. But good friends can never be underestimated, and I was soon dragged out socialising and drinking. Over the following months, I found my ability to attract the opposite sex hadn't diminished and bedded many women. But when I woke up the next morning, it was not Danielle lying beside me, and my interest quickly waned no matter how beautiful they may have been. And when Danielle made her weekly call to me from some exotic part of the world, my despair would return.
My life took an interesting turn when I met Larry. I got a job to rewire an area of his house that he was turning into an office, it wasn't exactly a big job, but a little difficult due to his request to hide all of the wiring so it couldn't be seen. Eventually we worked out how we could manage it, and I set about my tasks with my usual diligence. Over the two days I was there, we got to know each other and chatted amicably. When I asked what sort of business he was running, he surprised me by telling me he and his wife ran an upmarket escort agency. He laughed heartily at my reaction, and then told me a little about the good and bad things of the escort industry. Larry ran mostly ladies for men, two married couples who would cater for the group sex market; and then two males who catered for a small but steadily growing female clientele.
Thinking Larry was joking, I laughed when he asked me if I'd be interested doing a bit of escort work. But he was serious, and told me that a good looking person such as myself would be in demand. I told him that I wasn't well enough endowed, and that I'd be a major disappointment once my trousers came off. He shrugged his shoulders and told me that most of his female clientele were more interested in good company and sex than a monster dick. At first I wasn't at all interested, but Larry eventually wore me down and my interest started to grow. It wasn't about the money, but more about the meeting of women for the sole purpose of taking them to bed.
A couple of nights later, Larry and I got together over a few drinks and discussed the possibility of me doing a bit of escort work. While I can't remember everything he said, this is what stuck in my mind. Firstly, the women like to be treated as if they're on a date. A high proportion of the ladies will be married business women who like a little out of town attention. They like their escort to be well presented, and charming without being over the top. Most like to be wined and dined at a restaurant where they can judge the escort in the safety of the public as to whether they might want to go further or not. They want good intelligent conversation with a little humour and fun thrown in. The golden rule was that you never pried into their private lives, but what they freely offered to discuss was okay. Usually, you'll be invited to their hotel room, and this is where a male escort has to tread carefully. Any sexual connotations should instigated by the client, and I would have to be very careful that this was always the case. And if it was going to happen, I should always ask for their likes and dislikes to get an idea of any boundaries.
A massage is a good way to start he told me, but some women think it's a waste of time and would rather get straight into the action. Unprotected oral sex is optional, but the risks are obvious. But intercourse is always with a condom, and there was to be no deviation from it, for everyone's wellbeing. After sex, most women like their escort to leave soon after, never assume that you're there for the night. Women can be funny like that, Larry explained. Sometimes, things can go a little awry, in those cases, just smile politely as you tell them goodbye and take your leave. The last thing he did was ask to see my hands. He then went on to tell me that women hate to be touched with dirty or rough hands, or with rough broken fingernails. He suggested a manicure before meeting a client. It was something that I'd never considered, but I knew he was a hundred percent right.
