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Ashley is a jerk. We have been seeing each other for two months and after last night, I am no longer interested.

Always flashy, he picked me up for dinner in his too loud and too blingy BMW something or other and usually I’d be fine with it. Being driven around London with, I have to admit, a bloody sexy man does get by pulse racing and he is not stuck up or stingy either. His daddy owns several large import and export businesses here and abroad, so pretty boy comes from the other side of the tracks as yours truly.

The thing is, and here my sisters will back me up, even though he seems like prince charming in his red BMW and Armani suit he is the world’s most insecure jealous little boy. I am 27, not exactly a teenager, but also a long way from being over the hill. I work out and I keep in shape, take good care of myself. Men and women notice when I enter a room and yes, perhaps I am a little vain about it but so what. I am honest enough to admit that I do enjoy the attention and I sometimes even get turned on when men and dare I say women lust over me. It’s a part of who I am, take it, or leave it.

When we got to the Japanese restaurant in Mayfair, two men were sitting diagonally from our table, just to the peripheral of Ashley’s. Oh, they noticed the moment we entered the restaurant, the two of them made no secret about visually ripping the clothes off me as opposed to undressing me with their eyes. I was bare bones to them as the waiter escorted Ashley and myself to our table and being super jealous Ashley immediately picked up on what was in all fairness rather blatant sexual innuendo coming from the two guys.
What got my goat was that instead of being the big man that he pretends to be and have it out with his competition, he cowardly blamed me for flirting with the guys. Can you believe the cheek of it! He was just starting to unpack all his toys when I excused myself and went to the ladies from where I called an Uber taxi to take me the hell out of there.

Her name is Virginia and she was double-parked outside the door of the restaurant when I walked past the two horny guys and Ashley without looking back. I was angry, but somehow I was feeling incredibly reckless and rebellious. Not all convent schooled girls to grow up to become obedient little housewives and I am no angel.

It is strange how one picks up on someone’s vibe and I could instinctively sense that Virginia (I didn’t know her yet) was picking up on my rebellion. Without a word and driving with one hand she reached out to caress my cheek and stroke my hair. Thinking back I don’t know if I was crying or laughing, emotions were flooding through me and I could barely contain myself.

How we got there and where exactly “there” is, I won’t be able to tell you, suffice to say it was a darkish part of a parking lot with pubs and noise and people but we somehow managed to tumble to the back seat of the Toyota Camry. No, I don’t know how, but I have the bruises to prove it. I was time-warped back to my school days in the convent. The way that Virginia kissed me and eventually made love to me on the back seat of her car was incredible and the noise and the lights from the pubs and clubs heightened the urgency and excitement.

A good Uber driver always delivers and Virginia did get me home safely to Dalston where she spends the night with me.
I learned a lot last night, I learned that Virginia moonlights two jobs, her other source of income is from Bisexual London Escorts. I also learned that I am 100% OK with it….I am considering it for myself, I think that Virginia and I would make one hell of a combination. Maybe we will see you at Bisexual London Escorts.

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