The escort who doesn't know the word "no"

Or how I learned that “no” is not part of my vocabulary when the price is right
His name was Radu, and he was the kind of customer who didn’t ask “are you okay?” He would simply state what he wanted, in a calm, almost indifferent voice, and wait to see if I would accept.
And I always accepted.
We met in a private villa in the north of Bucharest, hidden behind a high wall and automatic gates. When I arrived, he was waiting for me by the pool, a glass of champagne in his hand. He was tall, well-built, with light silver hair at the temples and a gaze that weighed you up without blinking.
“I hear you’re the girl who never says no,” he said directly, after kissing me on the cheek.
I smiled slightly and replied with the same honesty:
“That’s right. As long as you’re a gentleman and pay the right amount.”
He laughed softly, a deep sound that vibrated against my skin.
“Tonight I want it all. No limits. No refusals.”
I nodded. Not another word. I knew the rules of the game.
He took me to the master bedroom—an enormous room with a king-size bed, mirrors on the wall, and adjustable lights. He undressed me slowly, patiently, as if he were unwrapping an expensive gift. When I stood completely naked in front of him, he looked at me long, appreciatively.
“Beautiful,” he murmured. “And obedient.”
He put me on my knees first. Then on the bed, on my stomach. Then standing, pressed against the huge window overlooking the garden. He did everything he wanted, exactly how he wanted. He took me slow and deep, then fast and hard. He turned me around, held my neck firmly (but not suffocatingly), forced me to look him in the eye as he entered me.
At one point he sat me on top of him and said simply,
“Ride me. I want to see you move when you know you can’t say no.”
I moved exactly the way he wanted—slowly, undulatingly, then wildly, my breasts swaying and my nails digging into his chest. He held my hips and pushed me up, forcing me to take him as deep as possible. When I started to moan too loudly, he put two fingers in my mouth and whispered,
“Suck. And don’t stop.”
I sucked. I moaned around his fingers. I came twice—the first time trembling, the second time almost screaming—and he still hadn’t finished.
When he felt himself getting closer, he turned me over on my back, lifted my legs up, and thrust in long, powerful strokes until he came deep inside me with a deep, long moan of complete satisfaction.
After that, we lay there, our breaths mingling. He gently caressed my thigh and said in a low voice,
“You were perfect. You really don’t say no to anything.”
I smiled, still feeling him pulsing faintly inside me.
“I’m not saying no. But that doesn’t mean I’m not asking. Next time, I’ll ask for more.”
Because an escort who says no to anything is not just a submissive woman.
She’s a woman who knows exactly how much her freedom to say “yes” to anything is worth.
And who knows how to make a man pay handsomely for the privilege of having it all.