After Work Nightmare Escort

When I left the small village where I grew up, I had London in my sights. I had to leave where I was after the woman I was dating decided she was going off to Uni in Edinburgh and said we could keep in contact but now we had an “open” relationship and she was going to date other blokes. So, I was free to pursue the big city lights and other women.

The only job I could get straight off in London was at Poundland. My days were busy ringing up customers–some friendly, some totally barmy, but at least the time flew by, until after Saturday shift when a lonely night stretched ahead.

Despite my low wages, I managed to put a few quid aside and was thinking of hitting a pub when I was approached by a dark figure in the shadows. She asked if I was going “out tonight”? You didn’t have to be Sherlock to deduce she was a working girl.

“How Much?” I asked

“A fiver” she replied not missing a beat.

She was stomping her boots in the rain and swinging her umbrella back and forth like she wanted me to hurry up and decide. With her waving an open umbrella around, I couldn’t get a close look at her except that her ample tits were nearly exposed in her skin-tight nylon blouse. For added incentive for me to make up my mind, she lifted her miniskirt and showed me her fanny right there on the street! Apparently cheap escorts in London don’t wear knickers or believe in bikini waxing. You would think that arousing but no—. perhaps if a girl did that in a hotel elevator it would be a treat, but on a rainy cold sidewalk outside of Poundland where a copper could stroll by any minute, it wasn’t cool. I also didn’t want any of my co-workers catching me in a compromising position, but I think from the look of some of them, they’ve seen it all. I assumed that’s what you get from cheap escorts in London.

Still, I had nothing else to do so I followed her down the street. I had no car so I assumed she had one, or maybe she was leading me to a bedsit or a whorehouse. No, she abruptly made a hard right and dragged me into an alley. She pushed me up against the wall and undid my trousers near the back door of a restaurant, the smell of the grease from the chip shop and garbage in the air. While she had me up against the brick wall, her mobile rang and she wrenched one arm away from my willy and took the call! “Keep going” was all she said to me while she chatted with another john, lining up a date. She became more involved in her conversation and literally left me hanging. I heard a couple of guys near the door, probably kitchen workers heading outside for a smoke, so I tucked myself in and ran for it.

That’s what I got for hiring a “Poundland” value hooker.

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