After my wife decided that she was bored with me, I lost a lot of my self-esteem. I moped around for a year and then decided to buy myself a nice bike and start enjoying my life again. I suppose you could have called it a mid-life crisis but I’d always fancied myself a bit of a biker. I went out and bought my dream bike, a V-Max. Taking off on that bike at weekends certainly gave me my mojo back and even started to get me some attention from the ladies. Those two things made me realise that I was single and ready to mingle, but as I’m not really a drinker, I didn’t want to do the bar thing.
Anyway, this is the era of technology, so I got myself some dating apps. Posted some shots of me on my bike that I asked my brother to take and started chatting. It turned out to be a fun hobby. I’d spend evenings tapping away on my phone talking to whichever women were willing to talk to me. I’m not great at flirting though and so it never got me very far and just became a bit of something to do to waste time.
I didn’t really take the whole dating app thing seriously until I met Diane. She was attractive, around my age and seemed funny and, most of all, actually interested. Her husband had died and she’d taken up breeding dogs to give her something to do. Turns out she had become quite successful at it and won a few championships with her dogs. Some sort of spaniel. I can’t really remember as I’m no expert on dogs. I like them though and we spent many nights chatting online for hours.
Problem is she lived way up in the Peak District and I live down in Folkestone. It’s hard for her to travel with her dogs and even though I suppose I could zip up there on my bike pretty quick, I can’t go too far as I’m always on call at work. So, when she said she’d qualified for Crufts, we thought it would be the perfect chance to meet. So, I arranged cover for a few days and headed up to Birmingham.
Long story short, turns out I’d been catfished, or, I suppose in this case, you’d call it dogfished. I turned up at Crufts. No one had ever heard of her. She closed down her account online and even her phone number didn’t work anymore. Haven’t a bloody clue what happened there, but I can tell you what. I was not pleased. I’d booked a room at the Hilton and it was chaos there. It was full of dog people and their dogs everywhere. So, here I was with four free days, stuck in Birmingham surrounded by dogs. Not what I had in mind at all.
I sat on the bed at the Hilton and hatched a plan. Since I was supposed be having some fun time this weekend and it would have been first time in a couple of years, I was going to make sure it happened. Friends had suggested I consider using an escort service in the past, but it always seemed a bit odd to me. Not now. I want some rest and recreation. So, I got back on my bike and zipped down to London. I managed it in under two hours and by the afternoon I was booked into a nice hotel in Marylebone.
I messaged a mate that I knew had used escorts services in London before and asked him who he recommended. He said ‘I’d go with Cleopatra Escorts. They are totally sound and have some really sweet girls working with them’. Didn’t take me but a couple of moments to find the website and start looking. Loads better than a dating app. That’s for sure. And, everything is up front. Everyone knows what the date is about, so there’s no misunderstandings. After being let down by that weirdo who may or may not have been Diane, I don’t want anything complicated.
I found a very pretty, cute girl with the sort of long legs that make me giddy and booked a date with her. I’m not into any fetishes or anything like that. To be honest, I just wanted some female company to stop me from diving back into my maudlin self-pity again. I booked the date so quickly, I couldn’t quite believe it was that easy. Then I set about waiting for 7pm.
I felt peckish, so ordered some room service, had a quick snack and then hopped into the shower. By the time I finished and got myself decent (sounds a bit funny me getting decent for a date with an escort really), there was a call from reception telling me someone was here to see me. I told them to send her up. Soon after there was a little tap on the door and I opened it up to a sight for sore eyes. That’s all I can say.
She was just so adorable and sexy and smiley and friendly. I immediately knew I’d made the right decision. We sat down on the little settee in the room and had a chat and I spilled the beans about what happened to me in Birmingham. I couldn’t believe she was so sympathetic. She said that Diane was a total loser bitch and that she’d make it up to me for sure. Just after saying that she stood up, undid her dress and it hit the floor. My jaw hit the floor at the same time.
She was playful, mischievous, funny, extremely talented in so many ways and she made me feel great. In fact, as I still had one night of freedom left, I booked her again for a second evening. I can’t imagine that spending time at a dog show with Diane would have even come close to the fun time I had in that hotel in London. I returned to work with a stupid grin on my face. They all asked me how it had gone in Birmingham and I’m so proud of myself. Instead of being embarrassed, I told them exactly what happened and what I’d done instead. One or two were a little bit disapproving but most of them congratulated me. I definitely think I’m on my way to feeling like myself again. I’m going to have to arrange cover and get some time off more often.