Escort for the event in Ibiza


They are a beautiful and healthy 30 year old girl. I live in Rome, I have owned a home, many friends, a secure job (am a lawyer in a major study). I have no money problems, fortunately, nor find people to hang out and have fun. So far I’ve had a couple of series stories, most recently almost culminated in marriage, except that the last I did not felt, and I chose freedom.
A life like many others. Until this summer. I was on holiday in Ibiza with a group of friends. All young people, all beautiful, all singles, ready to divertircie with the heart the secret hope of finding the great love. One evening we decided to go to dinner at a local famous for cabaret and frequented by VIPs. When we enter I notice immediately that there is something strange. There are many men and single women: men have the air of someone who does not care costs; Women are beautiful and very available. I was told that on the island there are places that are home to groups of high-class escort because he put available to customers. I had not believed it, and instead here they are: elegant, tall, beautiful. If it were not for the way they attack speech and smile inviting to men alone, I would have thought they were models or actresses. My friends look around excitedly, while we drink an aperitif at the very sweet and very alcoholic fruit. After the second glass my head is spinning and I decide to go to the restroom to freshen up a moment.
It is very hot and the humidity that rises from the sea stick my short dress and low-cut skin, highlighting more than what I wanted. While I make way through the people, stumbling (I’m not used to the heel 12, certainly not ideal for long days in court). A hand sustains me, before it falls into ruin on the floor.
“Thank you!”. I turn and I see it: 185 cm, deep eyes, aquiline nose, tan yacht, manicured hands, firm muscles that fill every centimeter of the tailored jacket, sweet baby smile and slightly graying hair. Thank you Nina that forced me to put her Jimmy Choo, instead of the older dancers with whom I wanted to get out.

“You have to be careful, baby,” he says in English. “With those stilts to break your risk of your beautiful ankles.”


I remain stunned at him, not knowing what to say.

“What’s your name?”, He continues.


“And the name?”.

“How so?” I ask confused. “Isabella is my real name.”

She looks at me, smiling slyly.

“Sure. I’m Greg. ”

“Hello Greg, it was nice meeting you.” I say taking the path to the bathroom. The hand curated first stops me, taking me by the wrist.

I rock, a little ‘for alcohol, a little’ because the unexpected contact with Greg caused a flutter in my stomach, as if I had swallowed a flock of hummingbirds hyperactive.
“Where are you going?”.

I turned amazed: “At the toilet. Because?”. This man starts to get nervous, worries me, do not understand it, it excites me.

“Because I want you to come with me.”


“To bed!”. He smiles back and takes my hand. In the palm there anything I recognize, seem pieces of paper. I put them in my hand and I plant the eyes in the eye. Hummingbirds begin to blend, as I look at what you gave me. I do not believe, tickets are from 500 EUR. I look
surprise, disbelief. His smile becomes wider, and deeper look, while stroking my arm and pulls me toward you.

“I have 5,000, enough?”. He whispers with his warm voice. I remain paralyzed, I do not know what to do, I feel like dying: he mistook me for an escort!

I look at him with panic in his eyes.

“What is it, they are few?”.

“No, indeed,” I impappino horribly. “That is, I mean … You were wrong, Greg, I’m not an escort, have a lawyer.”

Laughs. “I can not believe, a lawyer! That’s why 5000 is not enough “, he winks at me. “You lawyers are leeches.” It becomes very red with anger and embarrassment.

But there is also something else. Hummingbirds do not stop blending and I realize I feel inexorably drawn to his body, which exudes warmth and testosterone and whose closeness is making me lose all lucidity. “I … I would not do for money,” I say, handing back the 5,000 Euros. “But I could do it for passion ….”

I can not believe I just said a sentence like that to a stranger.

“And I would not do that ever passion: not the money I can not excite me,” he says, dead serious, he rimettendomi holding banknotes. “I want you, counselor. Take this and go to wait for me in my room at the hotel next door. I free myself of my friends and I’ll join you. I swear you will not regret. ”

I look at my friends who keep me giggling, oblivious to what’s really going on between me and the charming man who keeps me by the wrist, all too aware of the key that Greg has just slipped into my bag. I think of my father, my mother, my friends, to colleagues of the study, the man who was going to marry and to my love life: so normal, so predictable.

“So do I desire you, Greg. I’ll be waiting in the room. ”

What happened next has the hushed quality and vaguely hallucinatory a sogno.Io that within the lobby and show the key, nailed by the look ugly the night clerk, which I go into that enormous bed cooled by the air conditioning, waiting for him. And then the champagne, sex, sweet, violent and beautiful as it ever was. He caresses me, possesses me, kisses me tenderly. He who puts me money in the stock market and greets me with a smile tender. “Counselor, you should seriously think of changing jobs, you know? You have a natural talent. ”

The door closes on my shame; the sense of humiliation, the excitement and the feeling of power that assail me every time I think about it. And that leaves me shaken, sweaty and full of creeps.
The 5,000 Euros I put them in the hands of the chambermaid, scalding my hands in that dawn hallucinated late summer, as I returned to the earth, to Isabella, to her friends, to normal life. He told me that when in the spring will go to Rome will call me. And from that day I’m counting the minutes.