Olivia

Olivia chose the museum quarter the way she chooses everything: deliberately. Gallery-district manners and an hour that unfolds like a well-hung room.

Olivia has gone thoroughly native to her postcode. She moves through Oud-Zuid's ordered streets like a curator on her own floor, and her sessions have the gallery quality, considered spacing, nothing crowded, each stroke given room to be experienced before the next one arrives. It is thoroughness annealed into patience, one long evening at a time. She is twenty-six, dark-haired, English-only and eloquent with it. The tantra and sensual hours suit her deliberate cast of mind; her erotic oil session is structured beautifully, movement by movement. Guests who want their hour composed rather than improvised have found their booking. She has never once been late, and never once seemed to hurry.

Olivia decides which bookings she takes and may decline any of them; she sets the limits for what a session includes, says what they are, and may end a visit at any point, as the terms set out.