The night before: A London escort's tale of spanking in Edgware Road by Diva Agency

I was sitting outside my favourite café on the Edgware Road, Cafe du Liban, sipping a tiny cup of their signature thick, strong black coffee while nibbling on one of the delicious sweet, syrupy pastries which was studded with thin slivers of almonds. Normally I'd sit inside and watch the other coffee drinkers through the large mirrors adorning the walls, but this morning the sun was bright and I wanted to feel its warmth on my skin. I'd been in London for a couple of years now, and yet the sights, the noise and the atmosphere still had the power to engender a mood of excitement within me, and today was no exception. Of course, the fact that I'd met with one of my most favourite clients the evening before was also adding to my feelings of well-being on this bright and breezy morning. Despite the fact that it wasn't yet midday, some dark, swarthy looking men dressed in Shalwar Qameez and their white head hugging caps were taking alternate sips of coffee while smoking shisha. The familiar smell filled the air, adding to the vibrant, bustling atmosphere of this unique and quirky part of town.

I sighed with pure pleasure. This was one of the reasons I'd left my native Russia. I wanted to experience life in one of the most lively capital cities in the world  and so here I was, people watching in Bayswater, while I went over the events of last night in my mind.

I'd been working as an escort in Bayswater since I'd arrived in London. One of my friends had joined the agency and she'd encouraged me to sign up too. Of course, I'd had my doubts when she'd first mentioned it, but I agreed to try it for a month and now, two years later, I was one of the most requested escorts in Edgware Road. My thoughts started to wander and I wondered what it was that drove men, and women, to use my services. Why they were willing to pay for my company and for my ability to give them the relaxation and release that they required. From my experience, a large proportion of my clients, something like a third, had some kind of secret fetish that they felt they couldn't share with a partner, another third were in unfulfilling relationships, while the rest claimed to be single. To be honest, I never really asked them any personal details, however many of my clients liked to share a bit about their lives and, once they did, it did make it easier for me to relate to them on a more personal level.

While I was musing on the kind of clients I'd met during the last two years, my thoughts returned once more to Gavin, a guy who sort of fell right between two of the categories. He was married and not getting any kind of sex at all, except for the occasional handjob which he administered himself, but he also had a fetish which was probably the reason why he was no longer getting any sex at home. Apparently, when he'd confessed his 'fetish' to his wife, she'd been totally disgusted and refused to have anything to do with his perverted tastes. Gradually the intimacy between them had been less and less frequent, until it had dwindled to nothing at all. They didn't even share the same bedroom anymore, as Gavin slept in the spare room now that the kids had moved out.

Although Gavin wasn't the kind of guy that would attract my attention in a bar or club, he'd actually grown on me since we'd first met about ten months ago. He was attractive, in an older guy kind of way, was in reasonable shape and was very generous. He always left me a good tip and often brought me little gifts, such as my favourite perfume or a bunch of flowers. I guess he missed the emotional intimacy with his wife too, and I felt a bit sorry for him sometimes. However, while all these things were very nice, there was one thing which had really made me stand up and take notice of him, and that was the fact that not only was he a very proficient lover, he also had one of the biggest cocks I'd seen during my time as a London escort.

Of course, I'd asked him why he felt the need to use the services of an escort when he could just as easily continued to satisfy his urges manually but, rather than explain verbally, he gave me a physical explanation: this big boy was not only bigger than average, but he stayed hard for ages. In fact, he'd have been the perfect advert for Viagra, although he'd never ever needed to take the little blue pills. To say that he could keep it up for hours was almost an understatement. For his first meeting, he'd booked a two hour session with me, and he was still going strong when his time was nearly up. Needless to say, I spent the next day with the feeling that I'd been well and truly fucked; which of course I had.

This morning I had that familiar sensitivity between my legs, which always seemed to happen after a meeting with Gavin, despite having had sex with him every week for the last ten months, except for the two weeks when he and his wife took their annual holiday to Tenerife. I could also feel my buttock cheeks smarting, after the brisk spanking he'd given me last night. This double stinging sensation was making me shift uneasily in my chair in an attempt to find a more comfortable position, but it was no good. No matter how much I squirmed on the padded seat, I couldn't get the relief I required. However, it was a small price to pay for the wonderful night of sex we'd had, and I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat.

I have to admit, my heart always started to beat a little faster when I knew it was time for Gavin to arrive. We always met at my incall apartment just off the Edgware Road. While I didn't actually live there, I did conduct most of my incalls there, along with a couple of other Russian escorts who'd also come to London at about the same time as me. Sometimes we joined up to offer duo escort services, or to host parties for some of our more affluent clients, although the majority of the time we just got on with our individual client lists. So when I knew that Gavin was on his way, I made sure that I was well prepared for what was about to happen.

As I'd said, Gavin not only had a large and virtually insatiable cock, but he also had a spanking fetish. So I chose my clothing very carefully, putting on the special skirt that he'd bought me not long after he became a regular client. The skirt was made of shiny black latex and fitted my slip but curvy hips to perfection. From the front it looked like any other latex pencil skirt, as it enveloped my curves in its shiny perfection. However, from the back it was an entirely different view. My rounded buttocks weren't encased in latex, in fact they weren't covered by anything at all, as this skirt was specially designed for spanking enthusiasts, having a large cut out area which exposed the buttocks, making it absolutely perfect for spanking without having to remove any clothes. Of course, there was no way that I could ever wear this revealing garment in public, although I had worn it outside the flat covered by a knee length black leather trench coat.

Gavin murmured his appreciation the moment he arrived, slipping his hands around my hips to caress my naked butt cheeks. He nuzzled his lips against my neck and I smelt the familiar scent of his musky cologne. I closed my eyes and let him find my lips. I knew a lot of escorts and prostitutes don't like kissing, they somehow find it too intimate, but I always enjoyed this part of the action, and I particularly enjoyed kissing Gavin. He guided me backwards towards my bedroom, pushing me gently as he kept his lips firmly on mine and his hands firmly attached to my buttocks. Once in the privacy of the room, he pushed me to the bed and ordered me to turn over. I did as he asked, laying face down on the bed, my feet on the floor to steady myself as I knew exactly what was coming next.

I braced myself slightly. While I enjoyed being spanked as much as Gavin enjoyed spanking me, the first blow always took my breath away. I heard him slip off his coat and knew that was the signal that he was ready. Even though I was expecting it, at the first contact a small, muffled gasp escaped my lips and I clenched the muscles in my bum as hard as I could. Thank God for all the squats, lunges and hip thrusts I did each week at the gym. They'd made my glutes hard and firm, and I'd definitely developed buns of steel. Catching my breath I waited for the second blow. It came almost immediately, eliciting the same cry of something that was a cross between pleasure and pain. Despite the stinging soreness, I could feel the rosy glow spreading across the pink skin. This was the addictive part that had me well and truly hooked. I can't say that I liked the sting of the contact, but I did like the feeling of warmth that followed, and the way that my buttocks throbbed in anticipation of the next blow.

I wondered how long the spanking would last. I usually counted the individual thwacks and, so far, the most I had endured was twenty in a row. Sometimes it was less, and a couple of spanks was enough to set all his senses raging, his cock to get hard, and for him to rip off his clothes and plunge into my wetness. However, last night it seemed that he wanted to push us both and see how far it would go. Five, six, seven. My buttocks felt as though they were pulsating with the stimulation. Eight, nine, ten. The glow was developing into a constant smarting sensation. Eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen. My buttocks were now on fire. Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen. I was starting to pray for it to stop. Nineteen, twenty. I felt a rush of adrenaline mixed with relief. We'd reached our limit.

And then his hand came down again. Twenty one, twenty two, twenty three. Suddenly I felt myself losing control. We'd  never been this far before. Twenty four, twenty five, twenty six. Tears pricked at my eyes and I began to think that I couldn't carry on. I took a large breath. Well as large as I could as the bed clothes were hindering my efforts to breathe. Twenty seven, twenty eight, twenty nine. I started to feel a little light headed. My senses were reeling and I wasn't sure whether I was coming or going. I was praying for it to end, and at the same time I wanted the feeling to go on and on. Thirty. What was to be the final slap, caught my now ultra sensitive buttocks at an angle sending a new wave of pain through me. I winced, wishing that it would stop. And then it did, and I felt Gavin's large hands, soothing the red hot skin with a cooling lotion. Ooh how I loved this bit. I could feel the cold liquid calming my flesh as if by magic, and I could also feel the warmth of my juices flooding out of me, showing just how ready I was to receive Gavin's enormous cock.

And that's exactly what happened next. He pumped away at me for what seemed like an eternity without stopping; me trying to keep up with his frantic pace, before simply allowing him to move me around like a rag doll to accommodate his desires. After three orgasms (mine), he finally came, before falling onto the bed with exhaustion.

So the next time you walk down Edgware Road on a sunny day, look out for Cafe du Libon and you may see me shifting in my seat, trying to find a comfortable position, with a well and truly satisfied smile on my face. And you'll know exactly what I was up to the night before.