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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.