AT THE HEART OF PLEASURE THE ESCORT OF A NIGHT

Chapter 2

Title: New Meetings *

Evening armchair is this moment when the world seems in suspense, as if it had a great inspiration before diving into the calm of the twilight, where each element naturally finds its place to offer a gentle transition between day and night.

The freshness that gave me the pool pulpit made me unstable. I wanted a few, a desire that became unbearable. I wanted a girl to spend the night.

I took out my father's car, a super class lexus. I was going to browse the city of Marseille looking for a girl to let off steam. This freshness was unbearable bay. I needed a girl. During my studies abroad, I could not spend a week without touching a girl.

Not impossible.

And that would not be here that I would deprive myself of this need.

After all, I have money and the power to offer any girl, regardless of the breed. I would just need a few banknotes to have the one I would like.

I was installed at the wheel of the luxurious car, which slowly slipped into the streets of a neighborhood where the red neon lights and the fleeting shadows tell a story that night prefers to hide.

The engine purrs gently, while my eyes scrutinize the silhouettes that line the sidewalk with a certain nonchalance. The soft leather of the steering wheel under my hands, the radio broadcasting a discreet whisper, everything in this scene speaks of control, calculation, controlled desire.

The neighborhood was lively, but I was out, observing. Faces are erased in the darkness, some familiar, other indifferent. Then, suddenly, a silhouette attracts my gaze.

It was distinguished from others by a singular look, a breathtaking beauty which seems almost unreal under the reverbs. Large, slender, with hair rolling slightly in the night breeze, it stands there, motionless, self -look. Her eyes hang mine through the tinted window, and in an instant, I knew it was she that I was going to take this evening to the hotel.

I slowed down again, approaching her. My gaze was piercing, almost provocative, and I felt a warmth, anticipation. I dropped the window without a word, the hand nonchalantly placed on the edge of the door.

She walked towards me with a casual elegance, and settling in the car, a light and bewitching fragrance surrounds me.

The conversation was minimal, almost useless. Everything was said in the exchange of looks, in the precise and controlled movements of our bodies.

She knew that I had come to these streets to find an escort, and given the appetizing look that I presented, she knew how much I wanted.

Immediately in my car ...

In a few minutes, I died in silence towards the hotel, a discreet place on the outskirts of the city. I devoured her eyes, noting every detail: the curve of her lips, the brilliance of her eyes under the sifted lights of the passenger compartment, the softness of her skin visible under her light coat.

The more I contemplated her, the more I was struck by her bewitching beauty, as if she came out of a dream, different from all the other women I had met.

In this suspended moment, the city seemed to be fading, leaving only that, me and the promise of the night to come, beyond the curved walls of the hotel where they were heading.

Time was frozen while I was driving it in the 450 room of the Golden Beach hotel.

I and the attractive escort entered the elevator with palpable tension. The cramped space, with polished metal walls, locked us in immediate intimacy. The cozy noise of the doors that closed behind us seemed to mark the beginning of an expectation charged with desire. My breathing was heavier, my gaze intensely fixed on it, detailing each curve, each movement.

She, aware of the effect she provoked, stood with almost provocative insurance. Its subtle perfume floated in the air, intoxicating, and the brilliance of its lips captured the reflections of the pale lights. His half-closed eyes launched suggestive looks that electrified the atmosphere.

I was quite tall, dressed with impeccable elegance, I was standing straight but feverish. Every second waiting in this elevator reinforced my impatience, my devouring desire.

I felt my pulse accelerate, while my mind could not help projecting itself towards what was going to happen behind the doors of the suite, barely a few floors higher.

My hands, tense against my pockets, burned with the desire to touch it, to feel the softness of its skin.

I observed it, unable to detach my eyes from its sensual forms. My lips surrounded slightly, as if to say something, but no word was necessary. Everything was in the air: the brutal desire, the implicit promise of a hot night.

The elevator continued its ascent, slowly, too slowly for my taste. Each floor that scored seemed to exacerbate my impatience. I already devoured her eyes, fighting against the desire to grasp it there, immediately, without waiting for a second more.

But it was in an elevator. We were not alone.

I had managed to master myself, playing with this burning tension, savoring every moment of this climb which was only the introduction to a night when I intended to have it entirely.