I'm a happily married man of 47, and I live in Essex, England, with my wife Stella and our daughter, Sarah. She's 25 now, but still chooses to live at home with us. As I said, our marriage is happy, but I've been punting on and off for a few years now. That is to say, meeting prostitutes and having a bit of fun with them. It's not that I don't love Stella; I do -- probably more now than when we first met. It's just that, like a lot of marriages, the erotic spark has slowly gone out of ours. We still make love maybe once a month, but Stell prefers kisses and cuddles these days. Besides, it's Stella the person I love, not the packaging. Most women get bigger and softer as they get older, it's natural, but you start to miss the feel of a tight, firm, young body, a girlish giggle and the flirtyness that goes with youthful sex.
That's why I go for young women. I don't mean girls who look like they could be jailbait, I'm really not into that. My taste is for women in their 20s, with fully developed bodies and minds. I also prefer British girls to the East European economic migrants who are escorting in such numbers these days. I think I'm still reasonably good-looking -- okay, I'm not George Clooney, despite us having been born in the same month, but I've still got a full head of chestnut brown hair, blue eyes and a cheerful grin (all my own teeth!), a sunny disposition and a six-foot, well-toned hairy body. Working in the furniture removal business most of my life has been as good as working out at the gym three times a week. I've also got a meaty 7-inch cock that the girls seem to like. I love that feeling of meeting an attractive young lady, getting to know her a bit, then us seducing each other and having fun. Okay, I know I'm just buying their affection, but all the girls I have met have been genuinely nice, we've got on well, and I've seen a few of them more than once. Maybe I've just been lucky that way.
A few months back I was surfing the Net, looking for a pretty girl to hook up with, when I stumbled across a report of a brothel in the town next to ours. I usually book through agencies or with independent girls. I'd never really been conscious of brothels in England, it just seems like a more continental thing somehow. Anyway, with it being so close I thought I'd like to give it a go, so I gave them a ring. The Australian woman who answered the phone said she was Aurelia, and assured me that there were always at least two British girls available, so I decided to pay them a call. One advantage of my job is that it often involves working weekends, which means I get days off during the week when Stella's at her work and I don't have to account for myself.
The establishment was in quite a classy looking street, made up of big Victorian villas. When I rang the bell a very respectable looking middle-aged housewife type opened it. I said Aurelia had invited me, and she let me in with a big smile. She showed me into what I suppose had originally been the front parlour but was now an office. Sitting behind the desk was a woman in her 40s with long blonde hair, heavy eye make-up and lipstick, and dressed in a black basque which revealed most of her large pushed-up boobs. This was Aurelia. She greeted me warmly, I handed over my money and we chatted for a bit about the sort of ladies I like. With a big smile, she said, "Hmm, I think we've got just the one for you. Alexa's working today -- very classy girl, sounds like just your type. If you'd like to wait in the room next door, she'll be free for you in about 10 minutes."
The room was red -- red plush armchairs and sofas, a red carpet, red curtains -- very red. There were various girlie magazines on coffee tables, and a widescreen TV showing porn movies and, to be honest, I started to feel a bit uncomfortable with the tackiness of it all. A pretty young girl who I reckoned must be about 19 brought me a cup of coffee and sat and chatted. Her name was Nina and she was from Slovakia. She was tiny, maybe five-foot-one, with shoulder length, wavy black hair and a black basque -- apparently the house uniform -- revealing very pale skin and small breasts. Her legs were short and muscular, clad in black stockings.
She was very sweet, and I was just beginning to re-consider my attitude to European girls and say that if Alexa was still busy Nina would do nicely, when Aurelia appeared and beckoned me to follow her. She led me up a flight of stairs, as I watched her ample arse swaying in front of me, and into a small bedroom, a king-sized double bed almost completely filling one end of it. There was a small shower cabinet in the corner. Aurelia gave me a wink and said, "You just make yourself comfortable, George, and Alexa will be here in moments." Then, with a giggle, she left.
I kicked off my shoes and sprawled on the bed, removing my shirt. After a few seconds the door opened and a cultured voice said, "Hi, I'm Alexa. You must be -- oh my God!"
The cultured tone had slipped at the end, into a voice I knew. I sat up, stared and muttered, "Jesus Christ!" Standing before me, her hand pressed to her mouth in shock, and dressed only in a red basque, very brief matching thong panties and black high-heeled shoes, was my daughter! To say I was dumbfounded would be the biggest understatement of all-time -- I could scarcely believe it.
