It was just like any other normal day, to begin with. I’d
done a tiring shift at work and after a quick pint at the local boozer I began
the long journey home. The railway station was busier than usual and as the
seven thirty service had been cancelled the platform was a heaving and sweaty
mass, undulating like a massive wave with each false alarm as announcement
after announcement signalled yet another annoying delay. But then I saw her.
She was standing towards the end of the platform and
appeared lost in thought, gazing away past the heaving throng towards the
promise of open spaces. Her blonde hair was in a bun and her lips were full and
rouged. She wore a grey business suit fitted at the waist and the pencil skirt
clung tightly to her pert behind. Her black high heels emphasised the sexy
silhouette of her toned figure and when she crouched to massage her shapely
calves I couldn’t help but stare, enjoying a stolen view of her bosom as she
bent over. I was transfixed, beside myself with desire, fascination and
longing. I just had to have her.
When the train did eventually arrive it was something of a
squeeze to get all and sundry aboard. It was even more of a problem for me as I
manufactured a way to move down the carriages until my girl once again came
into view. She was stunning and it was no surprise to me that all eyes were
upon her, mine included. I felt a sharp sense of embarrassment however when she
turned her head and fixed her gaze on me. Yet still I could not look away and
instead I wallowed in the deep blue pools. Then she smiled and I smiled back.
And that was how I came to know Jenny. If only I had left it there I might have
spared myself the agonies I have since endured since I learned she is a highclass escort.
The first night we spent together was magical. I had never
met such a sensual woman, one so in touch with her sexuality and so capable in
bed. It may be a cliché but she truly did make me feel like a new man and as we
lay post coitus in each other’s arms and whispered sweet nothings to each other
I wondered for a moment whether she was the one. ‘The one…’ The words weigh
heavy on the tongue. Relationships, responsibility, romance and the thought of
never making love to another woman was a terrifying concept. But she was
special and I could not imagine living without her. And then she asked me what
I did for a living and I replied, innocent and unaware of the bombshell she was
about to detonate. She was an escort.
She spoke matter of factly and one has to admire a girl with
such honesty. But then why lie? She told me that she enjoyed what she did but I
had to understand that meant that there could not be any long term thing
between us. She enjoyed living the high life, having her sexy adventures,
travelling and entertaining rich and powerful older men. She hoped I understood
and she even tried to lessen the pain by suggesting we could meet up whenever
she was in town. She liked me she said, very much. If she ever thought about
settling down and playing happy families I would be the first to know. Of
course I kept a stiff upper lip, maintained my composure and smiled back at
her, bathing in her beauty and fighting time itself, battling against its inexorability.
And then the evening was at an end.
Now, each night I stand on the platform at the same time
hoping to catch a glimpse of my girl, but I never do.
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