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Black & White & Lots of Grey

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When someone thinks about an escort, that person usually has a negative feeling in his (or her) gut. The moment an escort decides to sell their body for money, they cease to exist as respectable members of the society. They become an object of short-term desire, ones that are easily forgotten. Some even look at them as if they carried the black plague. But there are a few, who want to find out the reasons behind it all. Why did they choose this profession in the first place? Do they enjoy what they do? Did they have a choice? Can they still fall in love?

These, and several similar thoughts and questions have been haunting me for a long time. As you know, I like to look at things in a different way, and I'm not judgmental. I like to think that everyone deserves a chance to decide who they want to be, and then they should be able to tell their own story. And every story has at least two sides, not to mention that nothing is purely black and white, good or evil. There is always a mixture of both, and that's what makes our lives (and our stories) so colourful and unique, remarkable.

How many fictional characters do you still remember who were 100% good? Weren't they too boring? And how about those who were entirely consumed by the dark side? Scary? Disgusting? Infuriating? Now think about those ones, who had both positive and negative traits. How often did you find yourself rooting for the bad guy, who showed some remorse? Who was willing to change and accept his good side, and everything that came with it?

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An Elite Escort as the Protagonist?

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Of course, I'm not saying that everyone feels that way, but personally, I never liked those people (whether in real life or in fiction) who were practically saints. Nobody wants to live a life that they will regret in the end, either because it was that bad, or because they missed out on everything.

Well, I can assure you, nobody misses out on anything in my stories. But there are people in them, who have to realize that they have been living in the shadows till now. Oh, how many times this happens to all of us, doesn't it? Hence whenever I write about such things, it feels so real. Welcome to the world of 'what if's, the 'should have's and the 'maybe's. Oh, and this time, to the world of premium escorts and hot taxi drivers. And very, very naughty outfits.

Why did I choose an elite escort to be my not-so-good protagonist? Well, it's simple really. If you read the beginning of this post, then you know my reasons. I love to wonder what could make someone do something that's considered bad by their society, and what Suzanne does is definitely bad. In more ways than one. But then again, prostitution and being an escort is nearly never just about sex.

Of course, that can't be missing from an erotica short story, so it is present this time as well (oh boy, is it??), but there is also a hidden part of the story that will only be revealed after a few chapters. But don't worry, those of you who aren't fans of short story series, you get to have your smut in every single one of them. Actually, some of my readers said that The Escort's Taxi Ride erotica short story series is one of my kinkiest so far. Kinky, hot, and oh-so provocative. Just the way we all like it, huh?

But enough of the teasing (no, not really, but I am trying to be nice). Let's see what I'm talking about.

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A Delicious Bite of The Escort's Taxi Ride

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What would you do, if a gorgeous woman asked you for a ride? She would pay for it, too. For both rides. Sounds like a dream, right? And what if she was an elite escort? One that was in danger? Your life would never be the same, but it would totally be worth it. So, what is it going to be? ~o~ Suzanne was an escort, and not your usual kind at that. She was into the elite stuff, or at least that’s what she called it. God, I still remember her, although it happened a few years ago, and her time with me was rather short for my liking. And yet, her memory has been haunting me ever since. I know it’s cliché and I am also aware that she slept with most men for their money. But I was different. She paid me. Okay, not for the sex, but still, it certainly seemed like it that time. Who else could say that about themselves, right? She was gorgeous to look at, a sight to behold – and a treasure to hold in one’s arms, that’s for sure. An elusive one, but all the rarer and more exquisite for the very same reason. I bet anyone would have given anything they had just to spend one night with her. I know I would have. Well, I did, sort of. And it nearly cost me my life – and sanity. With her long blond curls and melancholy blue eyes, you could have easily mistaken her for an innocent schoolgirl. In fact, that’s how she looked like when I picked her up. She was wearing her silky hair in two pigtails, and her slender legs were clad in white knee-socks. Not to mention her checkered red and black miniskirt, or her white blouse that was tied into a knot over her ample breasts, revealing a flat and tanned stomach. I wouldn’t normally go there, but then on closer look, I could tell that she was old enough to be my wife – but not old enough not to be able to pull the look off. Except, that time I had no idea she was a call girl, or that she was in trouble. Her life was at stake, and I was the only one who could help her. ~o~ This is the first story in The Escort's Pleasure series. This bite-size loveliness is full of hot, kinky fun. 6,000 words of it, actually. Don't miss out, grab your copy now at an introductory price. You won't be dissappointed!

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Till next time,

Love,

Timea x

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