Nitya

I like men who text in the middle of a workday and already know they are not going to be good for the rest of the afternoon. I’m Nitya. Worli is where I am, close enough that a hotel nearby feels easy, not like a plan. If you’re looking for escorts in Worli who can actually meet while the light is still up, this is that.

I’m 31. Hair pinned because I left a desk, not because I’m playing a costume. Blouse a little tight. Skirt that sits right until your hand finds the hem. I don’t need a long hello. A kiss at the door, your mouth on my neck, and I stop pretending I came up here to talk. I like the heels left on. I like the stockings under your fingers. I like being turned around, skirt pushed up, still dressed like I have somewhere to be, while you fuck me slow enough that I forget the time.
I’ll go down on you if you’re already hard when I walk in. I like the look on your face more than the speech you were going to make. Then I want you inside me, on the bed, or bent over the desk if the room has one. Pull my hair if the pins can take it. Tell me how long you’ve been thinking about this. I talk a little, close to your ear, nothing rehearsed. Condom on, and if you want my mouth at the end, say it while you’re still holding me. I like finishing a man who can’t quite believe he got away with the hour.

I’m an escort, not a girlfriend for the night, and that is the good part. One man, a proper hotel in Worli or just by Lower Parel, a gap in the day. Message me the place and when you can be there. If I can slip out, I’ll tell you how soon I can be the reason your next meeting is useless.