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The Thin Ice [Klaimore & Somikat]

Somikat

Super-Earth
Joined
Aug 12, 2013
Posted on bluemoonescorts.com...

Francesca D'Alessandro – Transsexual Escort

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Hi baby, my name is Francesca! I am half Italian, half Argentinian,
and I am eager and waiting to show you a good time.

I am a very sexy, glamorous, and sophisticated TS, sensual and
passionate, friendly and understanding. If you are a discerning
gentleman with a desire to know a transwoman with distinction and
love, that's me. Come to visit me in my private apartment, or take
me out for wining & dining. Or I can to go to your hotel.

To make an appointment with me, simply call me
and we will meet for amazing fun!

Big Kisses,
Francesca

x x x x x


View Francesca's pictures!
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Pic 6

Services offered:
Anal giving, Anal receiving, Cum in mouth (with condom),
Deep throat, Facials, Fingering, French Kissing,
Lap dancing, Massage (with happy ending), Oral (both ways),
Rimming receiving, Role play, Shared showers.​


Name: Francesca D'Alessandro
Nationality: Italian
Status: Pre-op
Age: 24
Hair: Brunette
Eyes: Brown
Height: 5'9" / 175cm
Stats: 42D-30-32
Endowment: 7.5" / 19 cm​

Standard rates:
30 minutes: 150 (incall), 250 (outcall)
60 minutes: 250 (incall), 350 (outcall)
Additional hours: Ask
Dinner date (3 hrs): Ask
All night (12 hrs): Ask
Day & night (24 hrs): Ask

Call Francesca today!
 
His name was Eric, he was sitting at home by his computer like he normally did when he had come across the commercial for the transsexual escort Fracesca D'Alessandro. IT had immediately caught his attentnion as he clicked into it to get to her personal website where he could send her a mail ordering time and date.

He sat there staring at the computer, he wasn't really certain what he wanted yet though. Should go with just an hours to try it out? He had never been with a transsexual before? But maybe he should give it a whole night to properly get to know a transsexual a bit more, and he could of course take the time to enjoy the company during that time. Or perhaps she could for the full twentyfour hours just to properly know he had enough time. He was really uncertain but decided on twentyfour hours.

He started writing the mail to her
"Dear Francesca.
My name is Eric and I came across your advertisement on a website I would like to schedule a meeting this upcoming friday, and I would like to book for 24 hours. In the add it said to ask for price so I was wondering how much this would cost? And if you know of any good hotels or places that we could stay for the day?"
He wrote and rewrote the message quiet a few times before he decided it was good enough to send. He felt nervous as he hit the send button and sat back waiting for a response.
 
He didn't have to wait long to get his reply—within the hour Francesca's name appeared in his inbox, and at the click of a mouse the following message was revealed:

Hi Eric!

The price for 24 hours is $6,000 for in-call, or $8,000 for out-call. There are nice hotels near here—you can try the Hilton maybe, or the Maldron. Both are very nice :) I hope to hear from you soon!

Kisses,
Francesca


In her own spacious, single-bedroomed apartment, the Italian woman checked the time in the corner of her laptop's screen and decided she had a little time before her next appointment. It was rare that someone wished to have her for a full twenty-four hours, and she couldn't help but be a little interested in those who did; she was interested in people, and she liked to figure them out before she met them. In one regard it was a test of her intuition—in another, an idle way to pass the time.

More often than not, those who wished to avail of her company for a full day and night were businessmen well versed in the escort experience, whose hectic schedule rarely allowed them time to meet women through the normal routines (or whose schedule had precipitated a growing stale of their married sex life), but very occasionally it was some snobby rich kid, splashing his 21st birthday money on a once-off fling with a 'professional'. She knew which she preferred, and she did not expect Eric to be the latter. The rich kids would never feel like treating her to a good time or taking her to a lavish hotel—rather they would simply come to her apartment and fuck her silly for twenty-four hours, or ask her to indulge their curiosity in a woman with something extra between her legs. Slipping off of her bed with an elegance which was innate to her, she began to prepare for her next client, taking the time to check her phone and her inbox once more for messages before he arrived.
 
Somikat said:
He didn't have to wait long to get his reply—within the hour Francesca's name appeared in his inbox, and at the click of a mouse the following message was revealed:

Hi Eric!

The price for 24 hours is $6,000 for in-call, or $8,000 for out-call. There are nice hotels near here—you can try the Hilton maybe, or the Maldron. Both are very nice :) I hope to hear from you soon!

Kisses,
Francesca


In her own spacious, single-bedroomed apartment, the Italian woman checked the time in the corner of her laptop's screen and decided she had a little time before her next appointment. It was rare that someone wished to have her for a full twenty-four hours, and she couldn't help but be a little interested in those who did; she was interested in people, and she liked to figure them out before she met them. In one regard it was a test of her intuition—in another, an idle way to pass the time.

More often than not, those who wished to avail of her company for a full day and night were businessmen well versed in the escort experience, whose hectic schedule rarely allowed them time to meet women through the normal routines (or whose schedule had precipitated a growing stale of their married sex life), but very occasionally it was some snobby rich kid, splashing his 21st birthday money on a once-off fling with a 'professional'. She knew which she preferred, and she did not expect Eric to be the latter. The rich kids would never feel like treating her to a good time or taking her to a lavish hotel—rather they would simply come to her apartment and fuck her silly for twenty-four hours, or ask her to indulge their curiosity in a woman with something extra between her legs. Slipping off of her bed with an elegance which was innate to her, she began to prepare for her next client, taking the time to check her phone and her inbox once more for messages before he arrived.

Eric was a very young guy. He was only 21, so she was probably wrong on his older, but he was unlike most 21 year olds. He was running his own business which had made him quiet a lot of money. But the constant working had given him very little time to meet a woman in other ways than escort services. He had however recently started to have a bit more free time so he could look up to perhaps meet someone he could gain a lasting relationship with, however that was not his plan at this very moment.

He responded to her email.
"Next friday from 10 am to saturday morning 10 am? I'll bring cash unless you'd like it transferred in advance."

The money was no problem and he would be happy to take a full day off as he straightened his tie and headed into the meeting that was scheduled right about now. He opened the doors and sat down to meet the other corporate bosses to strategize their marketing campaign for the future.
 
Hi Eric!

Cash only, please. I will keep the time free for you—can't wait to see you :)

Kisses,
Francesca


—o—​

God help him if he doesn't turn up, the escort thought to herself as she hit send. 24 hours was a large enough chunk of her time to dedicate to one person on any day of the week, but on a Friday? Well... if he doesn't turn up, at least I should get a few callers. Closing her laptop, she sat up and turned her head towards the window. Beyond, the city stared back at her, massive in scale but still comprising but a tiny corner of the world. Hadn't she dreamed of greater things when she moved here? Ah, but how to attain them? Certainly she had never dreamed of being an escort when she had been a child, but it did not offer her a bad life. She had money and a growing reputation for being a quality escort, which only brought in more money. Money money money... the world turns on money... It was sad, but it was true, and glancing at the time Francesca realised she had little time to ponder such things—her next client would be arriving in 10 minutes...

The rest of the week passed rather uneventfully for the Italian woman. Every day was business as usual, and to her mild dismay none of her clients were particularly interesting. Her last visitor on Thursday night was an overweight Greek man in his late 40's, whose hairy stomach was coarse and unforgiving upon the tender curve of her ass he ploughed her from behind. He'd wanted to see her squirt, so she'd cum for him before he spent himself within her, and after he left she cleaned away the used condoms and showered before falling asleep in order to rise early the following morning. Rise early she did, giving herself time to ensure that the apartment was clean and stocked ahead of Eric's arrival. She even laid out a nice evening dress, for she had no idea what he wanted to do. All options covered, she had only to wait for 10am.
 
Work work work, this was how his weekdays looked like, every day pretty much the same thing, a meeting or someone messing up, or something going wrong that he needed informing about. There was never anything interesting anymore, people were only complaining about this and that as one of his products would have an error in it. He looked at his clock on the thursday night excited for the day to come as he had already prepared the tux in his home. As he drove home he couldn't wait to meet Francesca the day after.

IT was friday morning and he was ready and finished at 8, he wasn't sure if he should wait for 10 am to kick in or if he should go there now, he knew it would take about 30 minutes to reach her house so he decided to get in the car and drive there. Hopefully she was up and dressed and he could offer to pay extra for the hour early he would arrive.

As he reached the address he had been given he parked his car and stepped out of it, he was feeling truly nervous as he looked up at the apartment building she was living in. Right now, one of the most beautiful women he had seen, was waiting for him to arrive. Or preparing for their meeting. He grabbed the envelope with the money, he had packed 10 grand for good measure, he could easily afford it and her beauty deserved the extra money. He opened the door to her building and stepped up the stairs until he stood in front of her door. His heart was beating heavily and he was a bit hesitant before knocking on the door, he knew he was early, it was only 9 am. But he had hoped she wouldn't mind to much, he had assumed she had no other clients this day either way.
 
After a moment, the door swung open to reveal Francesca's surprised, inquisitive face. Without heels—for she was barefoot—she stood at 5'9", and this morning she was clad in a short black skirt and a simple but elegant white blouse, crocheted with intricate, miniature flowers, her sizeable breasts barely contained by the thin fabric. Its top buttons were undone, giving Eric an enticing view of her impressive cleavage. She wore make-up, though not very much—had she been given the time she would added some demure black eye-liner and red lipstick to the blush which coloured her cheeks, though even without those decorations she was beautiful.

"May I help you?" she inquired after looking at him for a moment, her voice flavoured with a soft Italian accent. She'd never seen the man before, though she was used to greeting strangers at her door. Normally they were expected, but not so this one—had her client gotten the wrong time? A tuxedo was certainly strange attire for nine in the morning, but it would not have looked out of place on someone willing and able to splash over five grand on a day with her. The face, however, did no fit. She had expected a dignified businessman, and this guy—well-dressed as he was—did not seem to be that. He was far too young, surely. Not unattractive, but surely too young to be her client. Another rich kid, perhaps, who'd heard of her services and decided he could turn up unannounced and expect to be serviced by her. Only the tuxedo threw that off too—the rich kids she got were more often than not decked out in expensive, trendy, casual gear, not the James Bond look.
 
Somikat said:
After a moment, the door swung open to reveal Francesca's surprised, inquisitive face. Without heels—for she was barefoot—she stood at 5'9", and this morning she was clad in a short black skirt and a simple but elegant white blouse, crocheted with intricate, miniature flowers, her sizeable breasts barely contained by the thin fabric. Its top buttons were undone, giving Eric an enticing view of her impressive cleavage. She wore make-up, though not very much—had she been given the time she would added some demure black eye-liner and red lipstick to the blush which coloured her cheeks, though even without those decorations she was beautiful.

"May I help you?" she inquired after looking at him for a moment, her voice flavoured with a soft Italian accent. She'd never seen the man before, though she was used to greeting strangers at her door. Normally they were expected, but not so this one—had her client gotten the wrong time? A tuxedo was certainly strange attire for nine in the morning, but it would not have looked out of place on someone willing and able to splash over five grand on a day with her. The face, however, did no fit. She had expected a dignified businessman, and this guy—well-dressed as he was—did not seem to be that. He was far too young, surely. Not unattractive, but surely too young to be her client. Another rich kid, perhaps, who'd heard of her services and decided he could turn up unannounced and expect to be serviced by her. Only the tuxedo threw that off too—the rich kids she got were more often than not decked out in expensive, trendy, casual gear, not the James Bond look.

As the door swung open he was struck with absolute awe, the woman infront of him was even more beautiful in reality than on the picture he had seen of her online. A soft blushed covered his cheeks as he had never spent time or money on anyone that beautiful before. He bowed politely before introducing himself. "Hello there Francesca, I am Eric Shivelton, owner of shiveltion industries and a lot of other small companies. I apologize for being early, I woke up early and couldn't wait."

He handed her the envelope containing the 10 grand for the payment and looked her up and down admiring not only the beauty of her face, but the sexyness of her current attire and the way it showed of her nice curves. He looked back up at the woman before speaking again "I hope you don't mind if I enter? I'll let you get fully ready before we start anything and I added a little extra since I am a bit early." He asked for permission but didn't really wait for a answer as he stepped past the woman and removed his, for now, and taking a look around in her apartment.
 
The escort could scarcely hide her surprise, stunned as she was at such revelations. Not only had the young man confirmed himself as her client, but he was a business owner? Of multiple companies? Maybe he was older than he looked, and had simply acquired a youthful appearance through expensive and extensive cosmetic surgery. Given the breadth of the envelope he handed her, she gauged that he could afford such treatment.

"No, please... come in," she said—almost absent-mindedly—as he entered anyway. If he was indeed as young as he looked, he was evidently no ordinary young man. From the way he presented himself to the way he handled himself—the chivalrous bow, the self-assuredness to enter and make himself at home—that was clear. It took her a moment to recollect herself, but that she did, closing the door and turning to face her guest, idly flicking through the contents of the envelope as she did so. Dio mio... he is rich.

"You know, I don't like when people are early," she began, her gentle features growing rather stern. "But I will forgive you this time." And with that, the austerity disappeared and she smiled. It was difficult to be strict when she was as surprised as she was, and though older gentlemen were her preference, she couldn't deny that this young gentleman—for he certainly seemed to be a gentleman—was interesting. He was nothing like what she had expected, but that was far from a bad thing.

"So tell me, Eric, how do you wish to enjoy my company?"
 
Somikat said:
The escort could scarcely hide her surprise, stunned as she was at such revelations. Not only had the young man confirmed himself as her client, but he was a business owner? Of multiple companies? Maybe he was older than he looked, and had simply acquired a youthful appearance through expensive and extensive cosmetic surgery. Given the breadth of the envelope he handed her, she gauged that he could afford such treatment.

"No, please... come in," she said—almost absent-mindedly—as he entered anyway. If he was indeed as young as he looked, he was evidently no ordinary young man. From the way he presented himself to the way he handled himself—the chivalrous bow, the self-assuredness to enter and make himself at home—that was clear. It took her a moment to recollect herself, but that she did, closing the door and turning to face her guest, idly flicking through the contents of the envelope as she did so. Dio mio... he is rich.

"You know, I don't like when people are early," she began, her gentle features growing rather stern. "But I will forgive you this time." And with that, the austerity disappeared and she smiled. It was difficult to be strict when she was as surprised as she was, and though older gentlemen were her preference, she couldn't deny that this young gentleman—for he certainly seemed to be a gentleman—was interesting. He was nothing like what she had expected, but that was far from a bad thing.

"So tell me, Eric, how do you wish to enjoy my company?"

After taking a few steps into the apartment he turned to face the beautiful woman who would be his company for the day and the night. He laughed a bit nervously at her sterdness and apologized once again "I am terribly sorry for being early miss, I just couldn't sit up and wait so I felt I could get her and watch you get ready instead. I hope the extra cash makes up for it if nothing else." He smiled confidently at her although he was pretty nervous, he was trying his best to hide it from the woman however.

He thought for a while over what they were planning "Well I was thinking we go out and eat something of a lunch. Although it is a bit early for that so we might have to figure out something to do while we wait. And then we'll see where the day takes us." He once again flashed a confident smile at her before sitting down on the couch to give her time to get fully ready before they went out.
 
"Yes, it is a little early for lunch," she replied, though not without humour. If nothing else, she could tease him about being early, though she reminded herself that she should do so only if it seemed appropriate. She was—after all—his escort for the day, though she guessed that a little humour would not be out of place with him. She was less sure about whether or not this was his first time. Usually she could tell without having to be told, but with Eric... it was either his first time, or he had a very casual way of treating things like this—either of which was fine by Francesca. She was a dab hand with débutants. "Can I get you a drink, perhaps?"

The kitchen lay to the rear of the apartment, which was spacious enough for the escort's needs. The door opened to a short hallway with a door on the right-hand side, before opening out into the living room. The black leather sofa upon which Eric had made himself comfortable faced a television, and between the two stood a squat, square wooden table, topped with mahogany. The door to the left of the room—and also to the left of the television screen—lead to Francesca's bedroom, and to the right of the sofa stood a bookcase full of novels and magazines. A small dining table flanked by two chairs stood by the window in the far corner of the room, and the walls were sparsely decorated—little more than a mirror by the doorless doorway to the kitchen hung upon their alabaster surfaces.
 
Somikat said:
"Yes, it is a little early for lunch," she replied, though not without humour. If nothing else, she could tease him about being early, though she reminded herself that she should do so only if it seemed appropriate. She was—after all—his escort for the day, though she guessed that a little humour would not be out of place with him. She was less sure about whether or not this was his first time. Usually she could tell without having to be told, but with Eric... it was either his first time, or he had a very casual way of treating things like this—either of which was fine by Francesca. She was a dab hand with débutants. "Can I get you a drink, perhaps?"

The kitchen lay to the rear of the apartment, which was spacious enough for the escort's needs. The door opened to a short hallway with a door on the right-hand side, before opening out into the living room. The black leather sofa upon which Eric had made himself comfortable faced a television, and between the two stood a squat, square wooden table, topped with mahogany. The door to the left of the room—and also to the left of the television screen—lead to Francesca's bedroom, and to the right of the sofa stood a bookcase full of novels and magazines. A small dining table flanked by two chairs stood by the window in the far corner of the room, and the walls were sparsely decorated—little more than a mirror by the doorless doorway to the kitchen hung upon their alabaster surfaces.

He laughed softly at her joke about him being early, she could play that all night on him he wouldn't mind to much, as long as she didn't sound sincerely spiteful or mad he wouldn't think anything of it. It wasn't Eric's first time with a escort although it was his first with a transsexual one, which was one of the major reasons he was feeling so nervous. He tended to always have the same style. He hired them for twenty four hours if it was possible so that he could actually get to know the girls a little bit and not just say hi screw and leave.

As he heard her question he thought for a while before responding. "Do you have any fine dining restaurants in walking distance from here? And perhaps something to do?" He wondered before responding to the actual question. If they had all the necessities around them, he wouldn't mind drinking, cause he wouldn't allow to be the only one to drink. But if they had to drive, he wanted to be able to take them to the places they were going to. The restaurant was more important than a entertainment place. After all a lot of people were fun to just talk and spend time with.
 
"There are lots of restaurants," she confirmed, "but I don't know what you want to do. I guess there is not much?" she shrugged. Unable to read his train of thought, he struck her as an odd one—asked if would like something to drink, he apparently ignore the question and seeks the answer to some other question. Rightly or wrongly, she fancied that he was one of these genius types, always lost in the clouds of their own thoughts and far-fetched ideas, only with the ability to turn those ideas into hard cash and flash suits, as well as the occasional escort or two. He was certainly hard to read, and that made him more intriguing than Francesca cared to admit.

Of course, with twenty-four hours in the man's company to look forward to—or rather twenty-five hours—there was plenty of time for her impression to change, and she was sure that she would have a better idea of who he was by the end of their time together. Not that that assured that she would have a good idea of who he was—mysterious men often remained mysterious, and even after one had shed one layer of intrigue there was often another layer beneath.
 
Somikat said:
"There are lots of restaurants," she confirmed, "but I don't know what you want to do. I guess there is not much?" she shrugged. Unable to read his train of thought, he struck her as an odd one—asked if would like something to drink, he apparently ignore the question and seeks the answer to some other question. Rightly or wrongly, she fancied that he was one of these genius types, always lost in the clouds of their own thoughts and far-fetched ideas, only with the ability to turn those ideas into hard cash and flash suits, as well as the occasional escort or two. He was certainly hard to read, and that made him more intriguing than Francesca cared to admit.

Of course, with twenty-four hours in the man's company to look forward to—or rather twenty-five hours—there was plenty of time for her impression to change, and she was sure that she would have a better idea of who he was by the end of their time together. Not that that assured that she would have a good idea of who he was—mysterious men often remained mysterious, and even after one had shed one layer of intrigue there was often another layer beneath.

He grinned at her response nodding although she couldn't see him at the moment and thought for a short while, well he wasn't to bothered about something to do besides eating and enjoying her company so he ruled out the car for tonight. "Yes please, dear. I'd love a drink, preferably with rum if you have any, if not. Anything is fine really" He grinned there. He hadn't taken a proper drink in quiet a while, he didn't have much time to enjoy alcohol since he was constantly working or in need to taking the car somewhere. But now he had all today and all tomorrow where he didn't actually need the car.

He remained in the sofa before realising that he never spoke out what he had said earlier "Whatever I'm having, you're having" He laughed slightly at how stupid that sounded but shrugged it off and hoped she'd understand what he meant. He was looking around her apartment and smiled. IT was a simple apartment with not flashy decorations or anything overly fancy, rather reminiscent to how his own one looked, besides the fact he had a bigger TV.
 
Admittedly, the joke would have been funnier if it had been delivered earlier, but Francesca still bore a wry smile on her face when she returned from the kitchen with two tumbler glasses of rum over ice. It was spiced—all that she had—and she hoped that it would do.

"That was awful," she told him, but again her admonishments were not without humour. She laughed softly, and Eric heard that even her laugh was flavoured with accents of her Italian upbringing. She apologised for the lack of a mixer, but informed him that she had a variety of juices and a couple of bottles of soda in the kitchen if he would like her to fetch one. "And I'll have whatever you're having," she joked, treating him to a broad, jesting smile.

Once the drinks had been sorted, she settled beside him on the couch, crossed one long, smooth leg seductively over the other, and clinked her glass to his. "To good times, yes?" she saluted, a warmer smile touching her lips. The morning's surprise had worn off by now, and Eric would be treated to the same experience that all of her clients received: a warm and friendly host, always sultry and seductive, and playfully sexy when called to be so. Her eyes a deep brown, and in that hazel shade her playful nature shone whenever she set eyes upon him. She did not shy away from eye contact—she had by now perfected the art of appearing confident, whether she felt it or not—and all-in-all she appeared quite relaxed as they drank and conversed.
 
Somikat said:
Admittedly, the joke would have been funnier if it had been delivered earlier, but Francesca still bore a wry smile on her face when she returned from the kitchen with two tumbler glasses of rum over ice. It was spiced—all that she had—and she hoped that it would do.

"That was awful," she told him, but again her admonishments were not without humour. She laughed softly, and Eric heard that even her laugh was flavoured with accents of her Italian upbringing. She apologised for the lack of a mixer, but informed him that she had a variety of juices and a couple of bottles of soda in the kitchen if he would like her to fetch one. "And I'll have whatever you're having," she joked, treating him to a broad, jesting smile.

Once the drinks had been sorted, she settled beside him on the couch, crossed one long, smooth leg seductively over the other, and clinked her glass to his. "To good times, yes?" she saluted, a warmer smile touching her lips. The morning's surprise had worn off by now, and Eric would be treated to the same experience that all of her clients received: a warm and friendly host, always sultry and seductive, and playfully sexy when called to be so. Her eyes a deep brown, and in that hazel shade her playful nature shone whenever she set eyes upon him. She did not shy away from eye contact—she had by now perfected the art of appearing confident, whether she felt it or not—and all-in-all she appeared quite relaxed as they drank and conversed.

He knew the deilivery of the joke wasn't the best, but hopefully he didn't come across overly weird but he didn't really care. He knew he wasn't common, he was the richest 21 year old out there, at least with his own made money. He had started from very little, he wasn't exactly poor. But heck he had worked hard and look where he is now.

He nodded at her comment letting out another laugh "That it was." He hadn't heard her talk to much, but he already loved that Italian accent she was speaking with, it was almost entrancing. As she told him about the drinks and such he shook his head, he was just fine with drinking rum unmixed.

As she sat down beside him he moved his glass to hers as well and nodded "To good times". This was the first time he looked at her besides when he entered. She seemed to have completed her make up and gotten fully ready. His eyes moved up and down the woman a wide smile spreading on the lips, he had definietly chosen the right woman to spend a day with, she looked absolutely amazing.

As they kept drinking and conversing he looked at his clock after about two hours around 11 and smiled before getting up from the couch before offering her his hand. "How about lunch now?" He smiled at the thought of seeing this woman in a dining dress or somethign similar. "Dress up we're going to a nice place." During their conversation he had taken off his jacked and loosened his tie. Now he but the jacket back on and fixed his tie before sitting back down giving her time to change.
 
As young as the man looked, Francesca couldn't deny a certain pleasure in being taken out. Most men simply came over to sate their carnal desires and left, but Eric was going to take her out and that was something she always took pleasure in. Not that there was anything wrong with a quick fuck—it was her main source of income, after all—but she was at heart a sophisticated woman, and she enjoyed the fine food and wine which she was afforded on occasions such as this.

"Yes, sir," she replied playfully, grinning and downing what was by now her second drink—Eric had received the same—and padded into her room to change. She did leave the door slightly ajar, but from where he was sitting Eric could see nothing. She dressed quickly, but did take the time to add the extra make-up which her client's early arrival had caught her without, and soon she reappeared in a slinky red dress which hugged her hips and her sides where they narrowed. It was low-cut without being trashy, her ample breasts held firm in its confines, and had a slit up one side to show off her long legs. Her lips were painted a shade of red to match the dress, and on her feet she wore tasteful heels of red and beige. The seductive colour complimented her sallow skin perfectly, and her long, chocolate-coloured hair prevented the abundance of it from being over-powering.
 
Somikat said:
As young as the man looked, Francesca couldn't deny a certain pleasure in being taken out. Most men simply came over to sate their carnal desires and left, but Eric was going to take her out and that was something she always took pleasure in. Not that there was anything wrong with a quick fuck—it was her main source of income, after all—but she was at heart a sophisticated woman, and she enjoyed the fine food and wine which she was afforded on occasions such as this.

"Yes, sir," she replied playfully, grinning and downing what was by now her second drink—Eric had received the same—and padded into her room to change. She did leave the door slightly ajar, but from where he was sitting Eric could see nothing. She dressed quickly, but did take the time to add the extra make-up which her client's early arrival had caught her without, and soon she reappeared in a slinky red dress which hugged her hips and her sides where they narrowed. It was low-cut without being trashy, her ample breasts held firm in its confines, and had a slit up one side to show off her long legs. Her lips were painted a shade of red to match the dress, and on her feet she wore tasteful heels of red and beige. The seductive colour complimented her sallow skin perfectly, and her long, chocolate-coloured hair prevented the abundance of it from being over-powering.

He smiled as he sat down in the couch again, she had looked absolutely amazing in her clothes before and he could not wait to see her in what she would be wearing for their dinner. He looked at the TV infront of him, wondering if he should turn it on. After a short argument in his head he decided that it would be rather rude and seem very impatient as he sat there once again enjoying the simplistic nature of the apartment.

As she returned he just looked at her with awe. Wow... She was absolutely stunning. He tried to open his mouth but he was just awestruck. Not only did the red dress look perfect on her, the added make up made her look even more beautiful than she did before, if that was even possible. He stood up a big smile on his face as he kept looking at the woman. "You look absolutely amazing I must say miss." He then offered her his arm before heading out to leave her apartment.
 
"Thank you," she replied with a smile. "I have to dress nice to accompany such a well-dressed man." There was a playfulness in her eyes as she looked him up and down, and with the dress bringing out all of her innate glamour, she was settling into her usual routine now, and playing the perfect companion. Truth be told, Francesca was excellent company, and she was very good at what she was paid for—both on the escorting side of affairs, and on the more carnal exploits which the term escort was designed to conceal.

Throughout their unusually lengthy conversation, she had extracted from him some details of what he did, and it became evident to her how he made his money, and just how successful he was. She had also narrowed his age down to 22 at most—or so she thought—but she had not had the gall to ask him outright. It would have been... out of place, she felt, for Francesca was indeed a woman of sophistication, and she treated all of her clients with a higher-than-necessary level of respect. For a young man, Eric was certainly interesting, and the whole day promised to be rather interesting. Successful and seemingly dignified, he was a younger version of her ideal man.

The restaurant which she lead him to was quite upmarket and not cheap by any stretch of the imagination, but she felt that not only could Eric afford it, but he would enjoy it too, certainly with her company. It was a sophisticated establishment—perfect for her—and perfect too for the experience she liked to share with her more respectable clients. In the morning, it was also far less busy than it would be in the evening time or even at lunch, and so they had little problem being seated.
 
He kept smiling at her his eyes moving up and down her sexy curves. His smile widening as he knew that later this day he would see those curves first hand with no silly clothings to sever the view. But for now he was happy looking at her the way she was now. There was something slightly different about her now, she seemed more... More confident was what he was trying to find. It wasn't a very clear change but he could tell already that she had changed her demeanor just a little bit.

As they entered the restaurant he let out a quiet whistle. It was a lot fancier than he had expected it to be. He walked up to the waitress who's task it was to place them. "A table for two." The young woman shook her head. "I'm sorry sir, we're fully booked, you'll have to make a reservation." Eric chuckled and shook his head. "I think you can make room for me and my date..." He said as he snuck her a hundred dollar bill and winked at her with a grin. He had learnt in business that self-confidence was by far the most important thing to have. The woman looked at the bill with surprise in her eyes and then nodded. "It seems like a table just cleared up sir... Please come this way." Eric then turned to Franscesca, flashed her a smile before continuing walking to where they just got seated.
 
Francesca smiled and shook her head humourously—it was amazing what money could get you in this life, and also what confidence Eric bore for such a young man. He really did remind her of the older, successful gentlemen she admired so much. She wondered if he was so mature in all his dealings. Silently musing, she followed he and the waitress to the table which they had just purchased and slipped into one seat, tucking her hair behind one ear as she turned her eyes up to her client.

"It seems you know how to get what you want," she said sultrily, as the waitress disappeared for but a moment, to return with menus delicately garnished in an elegant, ornate script. Even the lunch menu here bore dishes from all across the globe, and as her eyes scanned the offerings, the escort hit upon one of the more foreign dishes—it had been an age since she'd had fattoush.
 
Somikat said:
Francesca smiled and shook her head humourously—it was amazing what money could get you in this life, and also what confidence Eric bore for such a young man. He really did remind her of the older, successful gentlemen she admired so much. She wondered if he was so mature in all his dealings. Silently musing, she followed he and the waitress to the table which they had just purchased and slipped into one seat, tucking her hair behind one ear as she turned her eyes up to her client.

"It seems you know how to get what you want," she said sultrily, as the waitress disappeared for but a moment, to return with menus delicately garnished in an elegant, ornate script. Even the lunch menu here bore dishes from all across the globe, and as her eyes scanned the offerings, the escort hit upon one of the more foreign dishes—it had been an age since she'd had fattoush.

Eric smiled, it was true he knew full well how to get whatever he wanted most of the time. It was necessary in the tough world of business to know what you wanted and how to get it after all, if you failed with such a simple thing a lot of good deals would swish by your face.

Eric nodded at her words "That I do, I've had years of training in appearing confident in most situations even if I'm nervous on the inside." He studied the menu for a while before looking over at the woman. "Do you know what you want yet?" He grinned slightly as he had decided already. He leant back in the chair before looking at her again "Would you like a bottle of wine? And if so any specific sort you would prefer?"
 
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