As we have said before, most of the time Call Girls are there to provide purely sexual services.
Today we have another story from an escort we spoke to, who told us about a regular client of hers. Who she had been seeing for about three years! But who never, ever asked her to have sex.
The story was shared with us by Vanessa, 26 years old Slovakia, escort.
The fetish of - let's call him - Marios, was a dress! A red, short, tight dress. She will explain the details below.
He was a regular customer, calling to meet me every month, sometimes twice a week. The most that ever intervened between our appointments was three months, which I learned from him, he was away on a business trip, out of Greece.
I always wondered what his story was. He never spoke, other than a standard good evening when I entered the room and he never wanted to have sex. The first few times it was quite strange and difficult! Perhaps awkward. Of course, after a while, I learned the "process" and what he wanted and everything went smoothly. This of course didn't stop me from being curious about what was going on with this man.
Our appointments were always made at the same time, in the same hotel and most of the time, in the exact same room. I'd knock on the door, he'd open it and I'd stand by the bed. She would come in, sit on the bed, look at me and hand me the red dress. It was always clean and smelled nice. But it was always the same dress.
I would take it and start to slowly and sensually put it on while he was sitting on the bed, his back on the pillowed headboard, staring at me. He was a very handsome man , in his forties, but he seemed distant, empty.
It was a beautiful dress, red satin! It was open in the back and had a thin silver chain that ran from the shoulders to the waist.
After I put the dress on, I turned around slowly so she could stare at it from every angle. Then I'd turn around and look at him. He always had the same look when he saw me in it. As if his sadness was going away and he felt happy, excited? A little of both?
I'd get on the bed and sit between his legs, on my knees.
At this point, he would always slowly unbutton his pants and pull his penis out and start stroking it slowly.
I knew the dress drove him crazy, I just didn't know - and never knew - why.
Then I started to move sensually, stroking my body over the dress. My hands slid over the satin fabric slowly. The light from the lamps made the dress look even more beautiful. I always thought at that time. What's the story behind this dress? What's got him so turned on? Whatever it was, the impact it had on him and how much it excited him was truly remarkable!
I ran my hands gently over my body. I touched the chest my belly, my belly, my Buttocks my shoulders. The more I did it, the more intensely he played with his penis, the more he enjoyed it.
He had his eyes wide open and was staring at me in awe. His orgasm was approaching, biting his lips. I knew exactly what he wanted. I turned my back and began to sensually move my hips left and right while stroking my buttocks. I gently pulled the dress upwards and turned it back into place in the same way.
I knew exactly what he wanted at all times during each of our appointments. It was our little routine.
I never asked anything, I never spoke, he never touched me.
I could hear his breath and I knew. At the right moment, I turned towards him again and started stroking my breasts over the dress. He started to play even faster, until he came and his cum ended up on the red dress.
I sat there for a while while he was looking at his art, his creation. When he was ready, he smiled at me and nodded his head affirmatively, as if telling me that I could now get out of bed.
I would get my clothes, go to the bathroom, freshen up and go back to the room. I would leave the dress on the back of the chair and take the money from the coffee table. I always took the money at the end. That was our deal.
I smiled at him and left without saying anything.
