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Nastja Sweet GFE Escort Nights in London


By day, she wore blue scrubs and a disposable mask.By night, she wore six-inch heels, velvet thongs, and perfume that could make men forget their wives' names.

At 23, Nastja had already lived two lives in London — the quiet Czech dental nurse who smiled politely as she passed tools to the dentist, and the bombshell from Prague who twisted around a polished chrome pole under violet lights in a high-end gentlemen’s club in Mayfair.

Her blonde hair was always perfectly blown out, her breasts a natural busty 34DD that barely obeyed her tops, and her lips — plush, pink, and sinful — the kind that made men imagine the things she could do with her mouth.

She'd moved to London two years ago with her then-boyfriend, but that ended badly. She caught him cheating. Twice. One morning she poured his protein powder down the toilet, packed his suitcase, and kicked it — and him — out the front door. That same night, she did her first trial shift at Velvet Rouge, one of Mayfair’s most elite gentlemen’s clubs.

She never looked back.

 

The Velvet Education

At first, she danced. Just danced.The stage was where she came alive — hips rolling to trap beats, nipples hard under the stage lights, heels clicking as she descended into waiting laps. Tips flooded in. Men drooled.

But it wasn’t until a fellow dancer, Ruby, pulled her aside in the changing room that things began to change.

“You’re leaving money on the table,” Ruby said, fixing her lipstick in the mirror. “These men don’t just want to watch. They want to feel. Some of them pay four figures just to cuddle. Others want a night they’ll never forget. You give them the girlfriend experience treatment, and they’ll tip like mad.

”Nastja was curious.Ruby smirked. “Just say yes next time someone whispers that question. You’ll know it when you hear it.

”The first whisper came the next Friday. A silver-haired man in a Tom Ford suit leaned in, eyes dark with desire.“You’re beautiful,” he said. “Would you come back with me tonight… as my girlfriend?”


Client One – Julian, the Banker

Julian was pure City: Rolex, cocaine, and a hunger for things he couldn’t control.He booked her for an overnight. Penthouse suite overlooking Baker Street.

She arrived in a red slip dress and no bra. They shared champagne. He fed her strawberries, licked chocolate from her nipples, and then pulled her into bed.

He didn’t want rough sex — he wanted slow, needy sex. He wanted to kiss.As he came, she locked eyes with him and moaned just for him. When she tasted him, she didn’t pull away. She swallowed his cum, licked her lips, and whispered,“Delicious.”Julian tipped her £1,500 and texted her the next morning:“I haven’t stopped thinking about your mouth.”

 

Client Two – Patrick, the Lonely Divorcé

Patrick was different. Mid-40s, kind eyes, soft-spoken. He regularly booked London escorts for dinner dates.

She met him at a private booth in Novikov, played with her fork, let her heel graze his calf under the table.

At his flat in Tower Hill, he lit candles and put on Al Green. She sat in his lap and let him undress her like a lover, not a client.

He wanted to feel connected. He held her as he fucked her slowly, kissing her deeply.

When he came, she didn’t hesitate — she went down and licked every drop off his shaft like it was ritual.

“You’re an angel,” he whispered.

“No,” she said, licking her lips.

“I’m just a very hungry girl.”

 

Client Three – Darius, the Celebrity Chef

Darius booked her after seeing her dance at the club.

He liked being dominant.

He took her to his private residence in a very expensive leafy road in Bayswater, tied her hands above her head, and fingered her until she was trembling.

Then he fucked her hard, his hand gripping her throat, his voice low and demanding:

“Tell me how much you love my cock.

”She obeyed. She begged for more.

When he came in her mouth, she didn’t waste a drop.

“Fuck,” he moaned. “You really do love it, don’t you?”

She wiped her lips and smiled.

“Like dessert, chef.”

 

Client Four – Edward, the Oxbridge Professor

He was quiet. Polite. The kind who smelled of sandalwood and tweed.He wanted to talk first. Books, philosophy, Czech culture.

Then he took her to bed and surprised her — he was filthy under that academic charm.

He pulled her hair, made her ride him like a desperate escort slut, and came all over her breasts.

Nastja giggled. “You’re not so innocent, professor.

”He grinned, leaned down, and licked a drop from her nipple.

“I’m learning from the best.”


Client Five – The Kensington Bachelor

This one was wild. Young, rich, and reckless.

He picked her up from the club and took her shopping first in Knightsbridge— Agent Provocateur, Cartier, a silk scarf she later used to blindfold him.

In his flat, she tied him up and sat on his face until he begged to come.

When he finally did, she let it drip onto her tongue.

“Mmm… you taste like money.

”He gave her his platinum Amex to order champagne and whispered,“Next time, bring a friend.”


Nastja’s Secret

As the weeks passed, her days as a dental nurse started to blur into background noise. The sterile office, the smell of latex gloves, the hiss of suction tubes — none of it compared to the nights of satin sheets and semen-drenched moans.Nastja was hooked. Not just on the money, or the luxury, or the sex.

She was addicted to the lifestyle that London escorts could enjoy. To the intimacy. To the raw, sweaty, messy acts where she could let go of her good-girl mask and be the filthy, craving creature she truly was.

But more than anything, she loved the taste of cum.

It was her obsession.

She swallowed every time. Always.

Some men didn’t expect it. Some begged for it.

But every single one of them came back.

 

Client Six – Amir, the Married Politician

He booked a discreet hotel suite in Paddington.

His wedding ring never left his finger.

He wanted her to pretend they were lovers. She was his perfect GFE escort long kisses and soft hands.

They fucked with the desperation of two people hiding from the world.

He came deep inside her mouth. She looked up at him, mouth still full, and waited.“Swallow it,” he said.

She did.

Then opened her mouth to show him.

He groaned.

“You’re dangerous.”


Client Seven – The American Billionaire

He was in town for 48 hours.

He requested GFE escorts, but he wanted it nasty.They started in the limo outside a restaurant on Gloucester Road — she sucked him while he FaceTimed his assistant.

At the hotel, he came on her tongue, on her breasts, in her hair.

She laughed each time.

“You’re a greedy little escort slut,” he said.

She winked. “Only for cum.”


A New LifeNow

Nastja dances less.

She picks her clients. Charges more.

Her apartment is filled with luxury gifts, her lingerie drawer with silks and lace. By day, she still goes to the clinic. Just enough to keep the charade.

But by night, she becomes who she really is: one of the best lust-driven, cum-hungry seductress escorts in London who gives men exactly what they crave — affection, attention, and a little bit of heaven on her tongue.

One day, she might leave it behind.But not yet.Not when the nights are still wet and wild, and her craving for cum — and connection — is still insatiable.

 


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