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Curiosity to meet a gigolo

Ervaring gigolo

One day the word gigolo appeared somewhere, and I was curious, intrigued by it.  It was so abstract, so unknown to me.  Something that existed in the world, but that I had never encountered in my own life, except as something obscure and romanticized in a film.  Surely there was more, there had to be more than some larger than life experience, completely beyond my reach.  There had to be something, someone . . . real, right?  It took me one year to finally find out.

As I started searching the internet for this secret world full of taboos, all I encountered were ridiculous photos of men exposing themselves or escort agencies with men who seemed to be picked directly from a modeling agency.  These men seemed better suited to the pages of a magazine than on a date with someone like me.  They were attractive, no doubt, but their real personality was a mystery.  Sometimes, even their faces were hidden!  What if the head was not so pleasing as the body?  I did not want to spend hours with someone that I may not find interesting at all, someone whose well-rehearsed role of charming companion I would immediately see as just that, a role he is playing, nothing real or true.  I would feel nothing but disappointment.

So, I continued to search.

And then, one day, I stumbled upon Vince.  His site was so pleasant and unique.  There was so much to see and read!  He was so open, so revealing and honest about himself. The photos spoke warmth and personality, classy and inviting, not vulgar and imposing.  The testimonies of other women sounded genuine, pleasant and intense.  Vince was not just a body in a photo, not just a perfected persona on a screen, he seemed so … real. 

I hesitantly sent a short e-mail that I wanted to meet, and he replied.  But this was still new to me.  I was still unsure and afraid, self-conscious and scared.  So, I made no appointment.  But in the many months after that, Vince remained ever in my thoughts.  Day after day, I dreamed of meeting him and what the experience would be like.  Would I like him?  Would he like me?  Would I be disappointed?  I longed to see him, talk to him and know him in person.  But each time I stopped short of reaching out to him again, my fear always overtaking me.

Until the day my longing became stronger than my fear.  I wrote to him, suggesting a concrete date to meet each other and pressed Send before I could change my mind or back out.  I would dream no more.  I would make it reality.

We agreed on a place to meet.  As I waited, I grew nervous, but I knew I had to do this.  My curiosity of the gigolo experience, and especially of Vince, was like a thirst longing to be quenched.  Even if I was to be disappointed, it would no longer be a mystery and I would know for certain.   

And then he was there. I had prepared myself for an uncomfortable, awkward start, but he immediately made a joke, not a faint one that obliged me to laugh politely, but one that quickly broke the ice and put us both at ease.  I was taken by the cheerful, spontaneous, beautiful man at my door. Vince played no one other than himself, so open, authentic and wonderful.  He did not pretend to be some slick, smooth fancy gentleman spewing a well-rehearsed script full of paper compliments and cheesy lines.  He was just . . . himself, and it was perfect.

And we clicked. We talked for a long time and then started kissing gently, so naturally. What followed was an evening with two uncomplicated bodies and a shameless dedication to one another.

Before Vince, I associated high-class with an expensive, suave gigolo, tight in his suit, playing his three-hour role.

But what I experienced with Vince …  so open, attentive, disarming and playful, so genuine, kind and honest …. it created a warm and friendly feeling that lingered for weeks, along with a tingling body. A special person that you would like to see again. I believe that is the only thing I want to call high class.

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Gigolo Amsterdam Erotic Story

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Gigolo Amsterdam straight Male Escort Netherlands

“Would you like my company?” Your voice is low and inviting. Gigolo Amsterdam straight Male Escort Netherlands

My body screams the answer, but my mind wrestles with my reservations, my conscience, my fear. Despite our remote conversations over the last few weeks, I have only just met this man, he is still a stranger to me.

And yet, though he has not even touched me, I am drawn to him … suddenly ready to go wherever he wishes to take me and explore all that is hidden inside me. Am I willing to come to this point and walk away? To deny the longing inside me and return to being disregarded, hiding my loneliness, caging and silencing these unfulfilled desires … desires I’ve shared so easily with this man now seated across from me? Gigolo Amsterdam straight Male Escort Netherlands

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I finally look up. I do not have to say anything; the answer is burning in my eyes. You smile. “Good.”

We make our way to your car, exchanging seductive glances as you open my door and I start to climb inside. But you suddenly bring me into your arms, your mouth upon mine in a kiss we’ve both been aching for all evening. I relax in your embrace and return the kiss with vigor. We break, breathless. “Get in the car.” I laugh and happily do as I’m told.

But once we are alone in the car and pull away from the restaurant, I am so acutely aware of your presence that the need to touch you is overwhelming. I reach out and run my fingertips softly along the smooth warm skin of your hand on the wheel.

Gigolo in Amsterdam

You tilt your head toward me with a cocked eyebrow and a fals reprimand for distracting you from the road. Which only encourages my teasing. I lean further, pressing my chest into your shoulder. As my lips make their way up your neck. with soft kisses, my tongue just grazing your skin. At the same pace that my hand travels up your thigh, until my palm firmly rubs your groin just as my mouth tugs gently at your earlobe.

I cannot wait to reach the hotel, I want to let this flame ignite and burn freely . . . now. I whisper in your ear, “ Now I want you to make love to me . . . right now.” The need and urgency in my voice are unmistakeable.

I continue to kiss your neck softly because i like it.

Some places in Amsterdam: Hotel Amsterdam Hilton

In the Netherlands, to Amsterdam , I can come by car, it is only 2.30 hours driving for me

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Another Story in Amsterdam: straight-gigolo-amsterdam

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Gigolo Escort Frankfurt Germany

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Gigolo escort Frankfurt,

Because he is here quite often in Frankfurt, every time well-dressed in a suit or jeans that gives away just enough of his anatomic details to make me lose my concentration again. When I saw him for the first time, I was secretly hoping that he would lose his luggage so that he would have to present himself at my desk in order to have his declaration of lost goods registered. Then I would have been able to study him at close quarters, while his eyes would have been focused on the form that needed to be filled out. Gigolo Escort Frankfurt

Nevertheless his luggage did not get lost. In fact, the only thing that got lost was my shame. And so I did get to see him, not during the registry of forms, but just as close, and even much closer than that. Gigolo Escort Frankfurt

When I observed him in the departure hall one day with his trolley in his right hand and his mobile phone in his left, I saw a lady in her mid-forties walking into his direction. He noticed her and smiled. At that very moment I excused myself in front of the client at my desk and walked to the toilets, with a gigantic detour that led me past him. I made sure I reached the spot where he stood exactly at the moment when the lady joined him. And so I heard that his name was Vince.

Google did the rest. I have always had well-developed detective skills, and so I managed to find him in no time. Gigolo Vince4ladies that was the name of the Frankfurt gigolo who was entirely unaware of the way he spiced the happiest of my working days with his sensual presence. Gigolo Escort Frankfurt

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Until that day when I was not sitting at my desk, but found myself actually being the woman who confidently entered the departure hall. I knew his airport smiles well enough, but this smile was intended especially for me that was clearly visible in his serious, grey-blue eyes in which the twinkles betrayed more than a thousand naughty thoughts. It was wonderfully forbidden what I did that day. …. I will never be able to think about Frankfurt again without feeling the tingle of my fingers when touching his warm and smooth chest.

We saw little of the city, but more of the room. Sheets became sweaty and disordered before he soaped me with softness and some jasmine-smelling foam in the shower. In between our intimate moments we tried out room service, exactly like in the movies. On the second day we left our room for a couple of hours, so that for the first time in my life I could make Frankfurt city unsafe at the side of my personal style coach. For a man he knew surprisingly well which clothes I needed to express my personality. I was another person, from the inside and the outside, when I flew back to Frankfurt with my gigolo.

When I see him again today, with his trolley and his mobile phone, waiting for his travel companion of the weekend, I send him an sms: “Hey handsome, can I let your luggage disappear, so that I can be at your service for a change?… ;-) Your Frankfurt airport lady”.
Seven seconds later he turns around, immediately spots me with his hawk’s eye and winks, while he swiftly licks his upper lip in a subtle gesture.


I also like to visit Köln

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