Military Escort


It’s my first time in Newcastle Upon Tyne. My first time up north. I’d fallen in love with your accent but we’d never made it up here together. We’d always planned to. We’d said we’d come up, visit your folks and I could watch a match. I look out the window of the hotel and watch the hordes of black and white-clad men parading down the road from St James Park. The chants and songs rising up leave me in no doubt as to the paternity of the referee. I look at my watch. It’s almost 5 pm. I really need to make a booking soon. I flip open the laptop and look at the site again. I scroll through the photos of the various girls in their underwear until I stop on the one I’d chosen earlier.Amber, aged 26, blonde, blue eyes, size 8/10, 32CI dial the number and listen to the phone ring three times before she answers.“Hello?”“Uh, hi. Is that Amber?”“It is pet. How can I help you?”The rich Northumbrian accent purrs down the phone line. “I saw your ad on the website. Do you look like your photos? Blonde hair, blue eyes?”She laughs, but not in a condescending way. She sounds genuine.“Aye, I do. And I’m really 5 feet 4, a hundred and ten pounds and my boobs are a 32C. In case that was your next question.”I blush and stammer.“Um, well… I was wondering… Are you free this evening?”“Aye, I am. What are you looking for?”She sounds friendly but slightly cautious. I suppose she has to suss out if I’m a nutter or not.“I’m looking for a blowjob and sex, but I’d like you to dress up for me too. It says you do oral without on your ad.”“I do, though it’s a condom for everything else. It’s ten pounds extra for cum in mouth and twenty for anal.”“That’s ok, but I’m not looking for that. Just wanting a blow job rather than sex, you on top.”She laughs again. I love her laugh. It bahis siteleri sounds like a hug, it reminds me of your laugh. She had the same accent, it’s almost like listening to you.“That’s no problem. You said about dressing up. What outfit would you like? I have a saucy schoolgirl outfit, a French Maid, or I could be a naughty secretary or…”I cut across her, not wanting to waste her time.“If you don’t mind. I’d like you to wear an Army jacket I have here. You can change into it at the hotel.”“No problem, pet. Is it clean? Laundered like?”“Yes, it’s clean,” I assure her.“That’s OK then.” I breathe easier.“Would you be able to wear a purple thong, if you have one? Otherwise black would do.” “Can do.” She turns businesslike. “So it’s one hundred and fifty pounds an hour plus extras. I prefer the cash in an envelope ready when I enter your hotel room. How long do you want me for and when?”“Tonight.” I worry I appear over eager as I’m so quick to answer. “Would 8 o’clock suit?”“No problem, pet. And what hotel are you staying at?”I look at the keyfob. “It’s the Station hotel on St James Boulevard. Room 227.”“No problem, pet. I know it well. I’ll see you tonight.”She ends the conversation and the phone goes dead.I watch the clock crawl interminably slowly towards 8 pm.I shower and sit in the white fluffy dressing gown the hotel provided. I wonder how many of these are stolen. I glance at the notice that was attached to the gown’s hanger and smirk. “You are free to purchase this gown upon checkout. If you decide to steal it, a charge of £50 will be added to your bill.” I pour a whiskey from the mini-bar. Neat, no ice. It’s a well-stocked bar and perhaps Amber will take a drink to settle nerves. Though I doubt she gets nervous, or maybe she does? Not knowing canlı bahis siteleri what is behind the anonymous hotel room doors. My mind wanders to what protection they have. Do they have a bouncer who waits nearby or a call sign or do they just rely on their wits to suss out if the client is another lonely fucker or a psycho?I empty my wallet and slide the hundred and sixty pounds in £20 notes into a plain white envelope handily provided by the hotel as part of a stationery kit in the welcome pack. I leave it on the sideboard, ready to hand to her when she arrives.I look at my watch again. Two minutes to eight. I pour another drink. The nerves are getting to me now. I look at the combat jacket on the bed. You looked so good in it that last afternoon. It’s how I remember you. You’d just had your hair cut. It looked so sexy. That day you told me you were going back to Afghanistan. You were in your uniform. The green camouflage uniform you wore at home. So different from the desert colours you’d be wearing in Helmand where you would be trying to win hearts and minds. That was it, wasn’t it? Hearts and Minds. Talking to the women, going where the male soldiers couldn’t. You wanted to make a difference. A woman in a man’s world, but still carrying your own gun.My thoughts are interrupted by a soft knock on the door. A quick glance through the peephole shows a young blonde-haired woman in a navy coat and jeans. Nice and subtle, I think. Doesn’t look anything like a hooker.I open the door and she slips inside with a nod in response to my questioning “Amber?”I close the door and turn, picking up the envelope. She smiles. She looks so pretty.“What’s your name, pet?”That honey-dripped accent again. It makes my knees weak.“I’m… I’m Matt,” I stammer canlı bahis as I gingerly hold out the envelope.“Ta very much, Matt.”She smiles and I gaze into her eyes, watching them sparkle. She glances down to the bed. “Is this the outfit?”She picks up the combat jacket and looks again at me.“Just the jacket?”“And the thong and heels,” I hastily add.She bites her bottom lip then nods ascent and carries it, along with the money into the ensuite bathroom.I take another drink of my whisky and lean against the dressing table. After a couple of minutes, the bathroom door opens and she walks out.She looks stunning. She slowly saunters towards me, unfastening the jacket as she approaches, revealing her boobs. She glances at the name tag on the jacket.“Hello, Sir. Captain Ferguson reporting for duty, Sir.”She doesn’t break eye contact as she lets the jacket fall open. My eyes drop to take it in. The pair of full breasts with the pale pink nipples, the flat stomach, the purple thong. I lick my lips and gaze back into her sparkling blue eyes.“On your knees, soldier.” I gasp and watch, feeling my cock harden as she slowly slides down onto her knees. She licks her lips as she looks up at me and reaches out and tugs the belt of the robe. It falls open and my cock springs to attention.Her fingers trace the shaft with soft, delicate, featherlight touches. I’ve paid for oral without a condom so she runs her tongue over the head as she pulls the foreskin back. I can feel the heat of her mouth on my cock. My hands grip the edge of the dressing table for support as she sucks me into her mouth. She looks up, watching me every time she pulls her head back and lets my cock slide out. One hand on the shaft, the other fondling my balls. She hums a tune as her tongue tickles the strip of skin underneath the head.I can see lipstick smears on the pale white skin of my cock. There’s a ring of red lipstick about halfway down the shaft. A mark showing just how much cock she has taken into her mouth.

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