Prisha

Rehearsal ends, then the room is mine until seven. After that I am gone, even if you are still hard.
This is escort work, not a date I stumbled into. Goregaon, not a hotel lobby. You come to the flat I use for these hours. No cab across Mumbai for a sixty-minute slot. If you are in Andheri or Malad, fine. If you are in South Mumbai, book someone else.
I want your mouth on me before anything else. Sixty-nine, properly, not a quick lick so you can flip me. I watch your face. If you look away the whole time, I lose interest and the hour gets polite and boring.
You can fuck me after. On my back, or I sit on you. Hold my hips, don’t yank my hair. I will tell you when I am close. Finish on my stomach if you ask. I don’t take it in my mouth, and I don’t take it in my ass. Both are a no, not a negotiation.
I don’t drink on a booking. I don’t play wife. I don’t play student. I am a dancer who keeps a short escort window in daylight and likes sex inside it.