When I first met Tom, I thought he was going to be the one. However, after a couple of weeks, I realised that I was nothing more than another girl in a long line of dolly birds as he called us. It seemed that Tom knew exactly where to hang out to find the hottest girls who work for London escorts services. I should not have been surprised really. Tom is exactly the sort of guy you tend to bump into when you work for a London escorts service. As I say, you love and you learn when you are a London escort of https://www.londonxcity.com/escorts/. More than anything I guess that I was a bit angry with myself when I walked out on Tom that night. We had been hanging out with his friends in a champagne bar in London when he told them I worked for a London escorts. They all eyed me up and down, and I could see what they were thinking. I knew instantly that we had come to the end of the road, and before taking it any further, I was crying in my tea to one of the other girls at our London escorts service. I should have known from the start. Tom was like so many of the other guys that I had met since I had been with London escorts. He was simply to “ smarmy” as we girls at London escorts like to say. Tom was also so slick and knew what to say. It was like being handled instead of being loved, and I know that he played me for a fool when it call came down to it. Sure, he was good looking but as we all know good looks are only skin deep. I really should have learned my lesson by now, but there you go. On my way home from my friend, I thought about Les who lived in the same apartment block as me. He was a lovely girl and would move heaven and earth for me. Yes, he knew that I worked for a London escorts but it did not seem to bother him. I had met him the same day I had bought my flat. I had this snag list of things I wanted to do in my flat in my hand, and he offered to help me. Before I knew it, he was in my flat with his scruffy old jeans and a pair of socks which had seen better days. He made me smile when I was down, and in turn, I made him dinner or bought him socks. Les idea of a good night out was not hanging out in a posh bar. He would take me down to the pub, not breathe a word about London escorts to his friends and maybe take me out to Sunday dinner when he had the time. His job as a telecom engineer kept him busy, and he always smelt like a man. I liked the fact that he would carry my shopping and share his mom’s scones with me. Could you call Les a player? That is the last word which springs to mind when I think about Les, and I guess I should be honest with myself and admit to being in love with him.