We both collapsed back onto the soft, pillowy king size bed giggling so hard that our stomachs hurt. I may be in my 50’s but I still love to have fun and, quite frankly, jumping on someone else’s bed, so I don’t have to worry about it breaking, makes it all the more liberating. As I rolled over onto my back, my playful companion leaped on top of me, straddling me and pretended to ride me like pony. I would say ‘horse’, but that would sound like bragging and I’m certainly no stud.
We were both still fully clothed but all indications were that wasn’t going to last for long. I flipped her over and she squealed as we reversed positions. She wriggled a little bit like she was trying to get away, but I’m not kinky enough to get off on that, though it was endearingly cute. She was perfect to be honest. I have to give myself credit for choosing well. I pored over so many women trying to find one that fit my current state of mind and, considering this is my first time doing this, I think I struck lucky.
Last week, I finally got the all clear from my doctors. Finally, after three years of stress and fear of dying, I’m cancer free – or, at least as close to it as anyone can get. It’s been a pretty long hard road, especially as I’ve been divorced for 20 years and both of my kids are grown up and doing their own thing. I’ve had to go through most of this on my own. I grew up in the East End of London though and, as most people my age from those parts, I have a thick skin and try not to moan too much. My daughter did want to come back to London to stay with me during my treatment, but she knows me well enough to know that when I made it clear I’d have none of it, she backed off. She does call me every week though.
Because I’ve felt and looked like shit through most of the treatment, it was all I could do to keep my job and try to stay as healthy as possible. I had no energy for socialising, much less meeting women. Before my diagnosis, I usually had a girlfriend for a few months every so often and that was fine with me. After my divorce, I swore I’d never get tied down again and so I’ve stayed a free. I suppose it would have been helpful to have had someone around to give me some moral support, but then I’d have to have been thinking about someone else’s feelings and I just didn’t feel up to that anyway.
The one thing I did miss was a bit of slap and tickle, if you know what I mean. Even ill blokes need some relief now and again. I reverted to my teenage behaviours to see me through but promised myself I’d give myself a treat if I got the all clear. And, I finally did! I knew it had been on the cards, so I’d been ramping myself up by going online and researching the best escort agencies in London. I didn’t want to skimp on this particular indulgence and as I’ve hardly spent a penny on fun for three years, I’ve got a bit of spare change to splurge on myself.
It can be a bit confusing and overwhelming online as there’s a ton of escort agencies out there and they all claim to have the best girls, the classiest girls, the most professional service and all that. I do trust my own common sense though and I also asked around quite a bit on some forums. Cleopatra Escorts always came to the top of the list. Their website is tasteful and very user friendly.
I wanted this to be all about celebrating and having some fun. I couldn’t think of a better way to do that then to just book a top notch hotel room with all the bells and whistles, arrange a lovely lady to come and share it with me and then to have a blast. So, that’s exactly what I did. The young lady I finally decided on had that ‘naughty but nice’ girl next door look that reminded me of the Page 3 girls of my youth. Love me a bit of nostalgia.
When she arrived, she was cute, bright eyed and very bouncy – in more ways than one. Just what a geezer of my age needs to recharge the batteries. I sat her down and had a chat with her about what I’d been through and what sort of experience I was looking for and she was sweet and enthusiastic. We had a few drinks and I ordered some food from room service while we messed around like teenagers on the sofa. It wasn’t like I was particularly nervous. I just wasn’t in any rush and was enjoying the female company and contact.
Somehow dessert turned into a bit of a food fight, which then turned into a pillow fight and that’s how we ended up on the bed in fits of giggles. My room had a big Jacuzzi bath, so I suggested that we hop in with a bottle of champagne to enjoy and continue the fun there. She used the shower gel to make bubbles, which I’m sure we weren’t supposed to do because they sort of overflowed and got everywhere – but never mind. I honestly can’t remember the last time I had so much fun.
I completely spent myself in the Jacuzzi and so we dried each other off in big fluffy towels and then snuggled in bed for a while. Just about when I woke myself up snoring is when she reminded me that she had to go. Of course, I made sure to thank her generously and also to assure her that I would be booking a date with her again in the future. I think I’ll be treating myself to these sort of celebrations for a while until the diagnosis becomes less of a novelty. Nothing like celebrating being alive with a beautiful young woman to remind you why it’s worth celebrating.