Riley’s Reserve
With March upon us, I’m delighted to bring you another edition of Riley’s Reserve, a space where I share my world, my musings, and a carefully curated glimpse into what’s ahead.
This month is shaping up to be nothing short of eventful. My birthday on the 18th is fast approaching, which means an excuse for indulgence, a touch of reflection, and perhaps a martini (or three). I’ll also be heading to Perth for a much-anticipated tour, with some incredible experiences lined up that promise to make this month one to remember.
Between the celebrations and the travel, I’ve found myself reflecting on the past few weeks—moments of connection, lessons learned, and the quiet in-between. There’s much to share, and as always, I invite you to step into this space with me.
If you’ve been thinking about meeting, consider this your sign. Start a conversation with me here.
Availability & Tours
March brings both celebration and travel, with my time split between Melbourne and a much-anticipated Perth tour. Whether you are in the mood for a long lunch, a leisurely afternoon escape or an evening that lingers well into the night, I would love to make it something special.
Perth will be a fleeting visit and my schedule is already filling up. If you have been waiting for the right moment, this is it. Start a conversation here.
It has been far too long since I have visited Sydney and I am starting to feel the pull. Any Sydney gentleman looking for an escape, do not be shy,. I have a list of places to go, things to do and indulgences to be had, and I would love some good company to enjoy them with.
Looking further ahead, I am officially confirming my first-ever European tour from 20 December 2025 to 10 February 2026. This will be my first time leaving Australia, making it all the more exciting. So far, I will be in Dublin and Paris until 10 January 2026, with more destinations to be announced. Reservations for this tour are now open, so if you would like to be part of this journey, now is the perfect time to secure our time together. You can do so here.
And Chris, if you happen to be in Europe at the same time as me, do not be a stranger.
As always, if neither Melbourne nor Perth are where you will be, my Fly Me To You service offers the perfect reason to create something unforgettable, wherever you are. You can do so here.
View my availability here.
Some meals are more than just food. They are an experience, a gesture, an invitation to slow down and indulge in something truly special.
I am proud to introduce Something Served. This is a private offering reserved only for those who receive this newsletter. Whether at your place or mine, I will craft an evening designed for you to unwind, taking care of everything so you do not have to lift a finger. A beautifully curated meal, perfectly paired wines and an atmosphere that allows you to let go of the day.
Perhaps you prefer a romantic dinner, where I prepare and serve you something exquisite, dressed in my finest. Or maybe you would rather something a little less formal, a late-night indulgence prepared by the transgender girlfriend of your dreams in the tiniest of lingerie, or perhaps nothing at all.
Service Spotlight
This experience is about connection beyond the physical. The quiet intimacy in the way a glass is refilled, a plate is placed before you, or an evening unfolds in candlelight. And for those who wish to take things further, Something Served can be paired with Something Nice or Something Naughty for the perfect after-dinner delight.
I have to reiterate that this offering will never be advertised online. It is just for you.
If the idea of being completely taken care of sounds like exactly what you need, I would love to serve you.
Reserve Something Served here.
View all services here.
A February Fantasy
Few things get my heart racing quite like a Christopher Esber sale. The moment the email hit my inbox, I barely skimmed the details before forwarding it to Mr V with one simple message. We have to go. His reply came back instantly. Some things do not require negotiation.
Only a few things can wake me up at 6am on a Thursday before a twelve-hour shift, and Mr Esber’s sale was one of them. Right on cue at 6.45am, Mr V picked me up and we started the morning with coffee and a light snack before heading to the event, doors opening at 8am sharp.
Stepping inside, I felt the thrill of the hunt. Racks upon racks of Christopher Esber, waiting to be claimed. But as I ran my fingers through the fabric, my excitement faded. These pieces were on sale for a reason. A few staples caught my eye, and Mr V, ever the generous man that he is, happily purchased them for me. But where was the magic. Where was the moment of divine sartorial intervention that made waking up at 6am worth it.
I refused to leave unsatisfied. Then it hit me. Camilla and Marc. Their new season had just dropped and what better way to salvage the morning than a proper shopping spree in the city. I suggested it casually and Mr V, who could never resist a well-dressed woman, agreed without hesitation.
The moment we walked into the store, the shopping assistant greeted me with a knowing smile. "Oh, Riley, it is good to see you." I returned the sentiment and quickly let him know what I was after and that I was on a time frame. Business first, indulgence second.
Before I knew it, I was slipping into buttery soft silks, sharply tailored blazers, the kind of pieces that mould to your body like they were made for you. The mirror reflected exactly what I wanted to see. Refinement, confidence, something untouchable. And then there was Mr V, watching intently, eyes dark with admiration. If there was ever a moment to feel utterly adored, it was this.
I know this section is meant to be a naughty memory but I refuse to cheapen an experience so rich with joy. Consider this your reprieve before things take a turn in the next section.
By the time we sauntered up to the counter, I felt like the most spoilt woman alive and Mr V looked thrilled, not just to spoil me but to share in the experience itself.
Some days, I am managing a restaurant, exhausted from double shifts, wondering if I should just move to Paris and disappear. Other days, I am in a dressing room, slipping into something exquisite, watching a man watch me like I am the most breathtaking thing he has ever seen. The pendulum swing is extreme but I would not have it any other way.
A Recent Review: He came. I conquered.
Some Sundays are made for long, lazy mornings, soft sheets and slow starts. This was meant to be one of them.
The night before had been something of a celebration. I had just moved to South Yarra and naturally, Mr V reached out to toast the occasion. If you missed it on my Twitter, I was draped in Christopher Esber Spring Summer 2024, feeling fantastic, and a bottle of 2019 Guy Amoit Et Fils Puligny Montrachet only elevated the mood. The evening was somewhat sensible, with just one martini after dinner, but given the month I had, that was enough.
Sunday morning arrived with a slight headache and an onslaught of messages from Sam. A message chain both informative and demanding, pulling me from my intended plan of lying in and scrambling eggs. Instead, I found myself glued to my phone, deciphering what could only be described as an intense burst of longing. I think, momentarily, he forgot I am an escort and convinced himself I was his casual girlfriend. Do not get me wrong, I enjoy an easy text exchange, but you have to earn that level of intimacy with me first.
I ignored my phone for a short reprieve, but when I returned, Sam was still aching for me to visit. I caved. A not so quick Uber ride later, I found myself standing before a McMansion in Black Rock, of all places, greeted by a six foot six man. Given I am six foot four, I do not often find myself looking up. It is quite the turn on.
Despite spending the day sending me explicit photos and messages about how much damage he was going to do, he greeted me with an unexpected warmth. His presence was calm, almost disarming. One thing led to another, and we were on his couch, his impossibly long frame draped over mine, a sixteen gram ounce of cocaine on the table, and me slipping effortlessly into therapy mode.
Between bouts of confession and raw honesty, he got higher, lost in the haze of his own vulnerability. Apparently, I made him feel so safe that his whole energy shifted. Then, mid sentence, he paused, gaze flicking down as he realised I was getting hard.
‘Emotionally vulnerable men turn me on," I admitted, barely concealing my amusement.
He fumbled with the compliment, ignoring it entirely in favour of another thought. "I should put you in my mouth," he murmured.
I tilted my head, letting the silence stretch between us, watching him take a breath he did not quite release. His chest rose sharply, hesitating just long enough for me to enjoy it. Then, I smiled.
"Get on your knees."
And just like that, this towering, powerful man was on the floor, my girl cock in his mouth. Oh, how the tables turn.
For someone who claimed he had never done this before, he was doing a surprisingly good job. But I was not about to let a first timer get away without a lesson. I pulled him off, spat in his mouth, ran a hand through his hair and called him a good boy. His mouth parted slightly, and for the first time, I saw it. Pure, unfiltered submission. He liked it. More than liked it. The moment he realised it, I did too.
"I am going to teach you how to give a woman head properly," I told him, watching the excitement flicker across his face.
A few moments later, he had it down pat. I guided him, correcting his movements, making sure he was hitting every spot with purpose. By the time I was teetering on the edge of climax, I pulled out of his mouth, ran a finger along his jaw and whispered, "Turn around. Face down on the couch."
Lately, I have had a newfound craving for eating men out. Would anyone complain? I would hope not.
He needed a reward for being such a good boy, and I gave it to him. Before he could moan any further, I turned him back around, pressed a hand to his chest and told him to get back on his knees.
"Open your mouth," I ordered.
He obeyed. I came hard, trembling, my entire body overcome with pleasure. I had to sit down, utterly spent. He wiped his face with the back of his hand, grinning up at me, face covered in cum.
"You have done that before," he said.
I shook my head, still catching my breath. "Not like that."
Conveniently, my alarm went off a few moments later. He fumbled with his phone, too high to figure out how to call me an Uber. Five minutes later, I was on my way home, wondering if he would still be there, sprawled out on the couch, when the drugs finally wore off.
I could not figure it out. My body had never done something like that with such ease. Was it the new shift in hormones? The sheer satisfaction of putting him in his place? Or was it the way I had felt his pain and wanted to give him a moment of reprieve?
Whatever it was, it left a mark. On him, on me, and in the way I still think about it, long after I should have.
I’m back with a Perth Edition Wishlist, because what’s a trip home without a little indulgence? From my go-to blowout at Tao of Hair to a long, wine-filled dinner at Balthazar, this list is a mix of necessities and pure treats.
This month’s highlights include a two-night stay at The Ritz Carlton, a pinstripe suit from Camilla and Marc (because it would be rude not to), and a bottle of Chassagne-Montrachet to continue my journey into Burgundy wines. Think of it as my personal tour de indulgence.
And since it’s my birthday month, any gifting is always appreciated but never expected. If you’re feeling generous, consider this your cheat sheet.
As my tastes change, so will this Wishlist—updated monthly to keep things fresh and exciting. Discover this month’s selection here.
