A hint of elegance

A touch of elegance Greetings gentlemen. My name is Isabella and it is a privilege to make your acquaintance. I am a size 6 sun-kissed blonde beauty with natural curves in all the right places and a well-toned physique from my gym sessions ;) My breasts are so perfectly round and firm that I am frequently asked if they are real, which can be quite frustrating, although I suppose it is a compliment. I have been juggling a full-time job and studying simultaneously, which has not been enjoyable at all. Therefore, I am seeking the company of gentlemen to embark on some exciting adventures with, so that I may leave my job behind and focus solely on my studies. Would you be interested in joining me? I am completely new to the intriguing world of escorting and eager to explore it. Now, what might we engage in? You can find a list of my services on my profile, and as long as I am treated with respect and courtesy, I am open to a plethora of enjoyable experiences. Feel free to ask any questions and let's see if we are on the same wavelength. In the meantime, allow me to share a little fantasy that I have envisioned. We can create our own version of it and have a delightful time bringing it to life, if you so desire. The fantasy commences with me indulging in self-pleasure at home throughout the afternoon, using my toys (hehe, a girl's best friend, as they say). Before I know it, I become so exhausted that I fall asleep with my weevibe bullet vibrator still inside me. Upon awakening, I realize that I am running late to meet my girlfriends at our favorite bar. Hastily, I dress, apply my makeup, and rush out the door, completely forgetting that the vibrator is still nestled within me (they are designed to be so comfortable that it is easy to overlook). Upon arriving at the bar, I quickly head to the Ladies' room to freshen up. Due to my tardiness, I stumble and my bag, along with its contents, scatter across the floor. Fortunately, some kind individuals assist me in gathering everything together (or so I believe). Subsequently, I join my girlfriends and just as I am about to take a sip of my martini, the weevibe in my intimate area starts buzzing. I exert every ounce of self-control to prevent spitting my drink out onto everyone. "What on earth?" I think to myself, "how did this happen?" Now, I am stuck, unable to get up and go to the restroom to remove it, as I have just arrived. Luckily, it eventually stops. I cautiously take another sip of my martini, only for the buzzing to resume, even more intense this time. I instinctively cross my legs in an attempt to dampen the sensation. However, oh my goodness, it feels incredibly pleasurable. Suddenly, the weevibe transitions from a continuous buzz to a pulsating rhythm. I find myself in the middle of a sentence, with my girlfriends watching me, as I begin to climax while desperately trying to regain control. What in the world is happening? And then it dawns on me. The remote control was in my bag, and when it fell, someone picked it up and recognized it for what it was. Now, I am at their mercy, and they are merciless indeed. Time and time again, they bring me to the brink of orgasm, only to turn it off. The frustration is maddening. Additionally, I am faced with a genuine dilemma. Due to the overwhelming pleasure, I desperately want to climax, but at the same time, I am mortified by the thought of doing so in this public setting and embarrassing myself. This situation is incredibly intense for me, as I have never experienced anything like it before. I am typically in control of my own experiences, but suddenly, I am not. Yet, there is something undeniably captivating about it. I scan the bar, attempting to identify the person responsible for this torment. And there, sitting alone at a table across the room, is a distinguished gentleman in a suit, his arms concealed beneath the table, smiling directly at me. Our eyes lock, and he skillfully manipulates the weevibe, driving me to the brink of climax and then abruptly halting. I must make him stop, or else I will go insane with frustration. "Excuse me, I just spotted one of my colleagues from work," I fib to my girlfriends. "I need to speak with him." Before anyone can respond, I swiftly rise from my seat, desperately attempting to steady my wobbly legs as he increases the vibration while I approach him. "You seem a bit unsteady on your feet," he remarks with an infuriating smile. "Perhaps you should take a seat." All the while, he continues to play with the weevibe. I am rendered speechless, only able to moan, feeling my panties grow increasingly damp. My eyes silently plead with him to allow me to climax. Finally, he utters the word "Now" and turns the vibration to its maximum intensity. I experience the most intense orgasm of my life, made even more powerful by my inability to move or writhe as I typically would. He waits for a moment, and before I can speak, he lifts his arms from beneath the table and hands me the remote control. "I believe this is yours," he says, that smile gracing his face once again. Before I can respond, he stands up, offering a slight nod, and declares, "It has been a pleasure." Then, he turns and exits the bar. I am unable to follow him, as I can see my girlfriends staring at me. So, I return to them and as I sit down, they lean in closer. "What was that all about?" they inquire. However, by now, I have regained my composure. "Nothing," I reply with a shrug. "Just work." Thus, my girlfriends will believe that I am truly passionate about my job. Well, in a way, that is actually true. If only they knew the "work" I am now engaging in ;)