Drishti

If you booked me for a long talk, you booked the wrong escorts in Bandra. I’m Drishti. I finish a bar shift around twelve, Pali or Carter Road side, and I only take a hotel after that. Not before. Don’t ask me to do seven. That’s someone else’s hour.

I’m 25. Not the full-chest booking and not the tall-in-heels boss. Smaller than you expect until the jacket comes off. Nose ring, hair half tied, a tattoo on the ribs you only see when the top is gone. I look like I might just want a smoke outside the hotel. That’s until the door shuts and I connect my phone to the speaker.

I don’t soothe you and I don’t correct you. I kiss you like the shift is finally over. Slow at the mouth, then not. I like the cab if the drive is short, your hand under my jacket, my mouth at your ear telling you I’m not wearing much. In the room I want the lights low and one song on repeat. Shower if you smell like the bar I just left. Then I want you standing, my back to the wall, before we ever reach the bed. Oral is how I get greedy. I go down and I don’t narrate it. I look up once so you see it. Pussy after, slow while the song is still on, harder when I turn around. You can finish in my mouth or on my stomach. Not on my face. I hate that. Anal is off, and I won’t laugh it away the way a chatty girl might. I just won’t.

I’m not a girlfriend hour and I’m not your dom. I’m the Bandra escort you meet when the night is already late and you don’t want a performance. One man. Hotel in Bandra West, Khar if it’s close. Message me the hotel name and the time after midnight. If I answer, I’m already in the cab.