TL;DR: Sweet BBW twenty-something girl next door librarian with civilian vibes. Great kisser.
Read below for more details. This is a long review, you've been warned. Skip over the prologue if you just want to get to the actual encounter.
Prologue
In a lot of ways, it would have been easy for me to completely miss Juliet Love. When I think of the word 'escort', what pops up first in my mind is a slim, petite and attractive young lady. While Juliet is still petite (at 5'2"), attractive, and young, she bills herself as a BBW and the photos on her Tryst ad bear that out. I don't normally gravitate to BBWs, but there was still something about her that caught my attention.
Now that I'm in my older (definitely) and wiser (arguably) years, I've come to realize something about the best times I've had with escorts. The most fun times, the best connections, the most memorable encounters have been with ladies who have had only a slight correlation with my mental image of an escort. If anything, it might well be the opposite. Older ladies have more experience, and are often more confident about themselves. Taller ladies are statuesque, are a delight to view, and lend themselves to some interesting positions. Perhaps I've found the curvier ladies more relatable. Or perhaps these non-supermodel ladies have just tried a little harder.
Based on the few positive remarks I spotted, I started to look for reviews of Juliet and I didn't see any. I had the impression that she wasn't comfortable with them. In any case, I approached Juliet with an open mind, and skimmed her Twitter profile. Her tweets were intelligent and articulate, attributes that I've found bode well for forming mutual appeal, at least for me. And perhaps more surprising, I sensed a wholesomeness that I don't often see. So in the end, I didn't find it too hard to put aside my usual biases.
So last summer, I sent an email to her introducing myself and asking for a booking. I waited, and waited, and waited. Unbeknownst to me, about that time she changed her working name so that it would be less similar to another escort. As part of that name change, she changed her email address and I fell between the cracks. There have been many ladies in the past who have never responded to my polite inquiry, so I just shrugged and moved on.
But a while back, I saw a 411 inquiry about her. I was reminded about my interest the previous summer, and decided to text her a greatly abbreviated introduction. A few days passed without a response, and then weeks. I had fully given up at that point. I know that the initial communication is foreplay, and it's just no fun to play that game alone.
But about a month after my text, I got a text from her. I did say she could text me back anytime, so I wasn't concerned about an unsolicited text as some might. She apologized profusely. She had been out of town and incommunicado dealing with a family emergency, but was back now.
The timing couldn't have been less fortuitous. I was out of town myself, and wouldn't be back for a few weeks. I said that I would contact her when I returned, so I had some time to think about it. But I came home, and I decided that I would follow up. This time, I texted her and got a response immediately. My requested time and day would work nicely.
The Review
My time was quickly approaching, so I drove downtown. Her incall is in a respectable area where parking can be challenging, so I left plenty of time to find parking. I felt fortunate to find a spot about a block away. The incall was in a sleek, modern high-rise. She asked that I text her when I arrived and was standing in the entrance. She gave me a voice call to give me her buzz code and room number, and to hear my voice, I presume. I went up the elevator and I was off to the races.
I knocked softly on the door and was let in. Her entrance hallway was dimly lit. She was wearing what looked like a little black dress, and either wasn't wearing makeup or it was so light I couldn't tell. I was mildly surprised, as in her few blurred-face and partial-face photos she was always wearing lipstick. It really didn't matter to me either way. Her hair was down and loose. We traded greetings, a hug and a very luxurious kiss. I knew she had cats, but neither saw them or smelled any any sign of them. I believe she's a nonsmoker and I was happy not to sense any sign of smoke as well.
I scanned her living area quickly as I passed through. It was a very cozy space, casually furnished, and looked well lived in. It struck me as the kind of place a busy university student would have, a theme that I'll come back to. She asked if I had something for her, and I handed over the envelope with a smile. I freshened up quickly in the sparsely appointed bathroom, and headed to the bedroom.
She stood waiting for me. We kissed, slowly, sensually. She's a delightful kisser. She describes her service as a GFE and the usual acronyms were enjoyed. She very much felt like she was enjoying my company, with no trace of acting. We were still actively having fun when I realized my time was up. I pointed it out to be fair to her, but she was unconcerned. I was having a very good day and was able to do her company justice, an increasingly rare event for me it seems. I think that at least part of that was due to the evident sincerity of her own enjoyment.
Afterwards, we cuddled and kissed. We chatted briefly, including about reviews. I'm not sure she was still comfortable with them, but after some assurance she was okay with my writing one. She didn't see this one before I posted it, nor did she know what I was going to say.
I could have stayed there for hours, I was so blissed. But my time was well past, so just I collected myself and said my goodbyes.
Epilogue
In her Tryst ad, Juliet refers to herself as that girl next door, possibly as a librarian to whom you would sneak glances of admiration. I think she has those vibes, yes. But I would go a little further than that. I pictured her as a student librarian in my university library. Someone who was in her early twenties, although I think she's more likely at the other end of that decade in actuality. Someone not so experienced in life and loving. Someone who had a nervous giggle as we spoke. But only because she really was nervous. Like a young civilian, in other words. Not an escort at all, although of course I know better. Someone unpolished, but willing to learn. And more importantly, willing to learn with me. I was reminded of my own long ago university days. Before escorts, before meeting thirty- and forty-something polished professionals, before becoming jaded. I was glad to return to those days once again, if only for a very short time.
But luckily, I can always go back.
Read below for more details. This is a long review, you've been warned. Skip over the prologue if you just want to get to the actual encounter.
Prologue
In a lot of ways, it would have been easy for me to completely miss Juliet Love. When I think of the word 'escort', what pops up first in my mind is a slim, petite and attractive young lady. While Juliet is still petite (at 5'2"), attractive, and young, she bills herself as a BBW and the photos on her Tryst ad bear that out. I don't normally gravitate to BBWs, but there was still something about her that caught my attention.
Now that I'm in my older (definitely) and wiser (arguably) years, I've come to realize something about the best times I've had with escorts. The most fun times, the best connections, the most memorable encounters have been with ladies who have had only a slight correlation with my mental image of an escort. If anything, it might well be the opposite. Older ladies have more experience, and are often more confident about themselves. Taller ladies are statuesque, are a delight to view, and lend themselves to some interesting positions. Perhaps I've found the curvier ladies more relatable. Or perhaps these non-supermodel ladies have just tried a little harder.
Based on the few positive remarks I spotted, I started to look for reviews of Juliet and I didn't see any. I had the impression that she wasn't comfortable with them. In any case, I approached Juliet with an open mind, and skimmed her Twitter profile. Her tweets were intelligent and articulate, attributes that I've found bode well for forming mutual appeal, at least for me. And perhaps more surprising, I sensed a wholesomeness that I don't often see. So in the end, I didn't find it too hard to put aside my usual biases.
So last summer, I sent an email to her introducing myself and asking for a booking. I waited, and waited, and waited. Unbeknownst to me, about that time she changed her working name so that it would be less similar to another escort. As part of that name change, she changed her email address and I fell between the cracks. There have been many ladies in the past who have never responded to my polite inquiry, so I just shrugged and moved on.
But a while back, I saw a 411 inquiry about her. I was reminded about my interest the previous summer, and decided to text her a greatly abbreviated introduction. A few days passed without a response, and then weeks. I had fully given up at that point. I know that the initial communication is foreplay, and it's just no fun to play that game alone.
But about a month after my text, I got a text from her. I did say she could text me back anytime, so I wasn't concerned about an unsolicited text as some might. She apologized profusely. She had been out of town and incommunicado dealing with a family emergency, but was back now.
The timing couldn't have been less fortuitous. I was out of town myself, and wouldn't be back for a few weeks. I said that I would contact her when I returned, so I had some time to think about it. But I came home, and I decided that I would follow up. This time, I texted her and got a response immediately. My requested time and day would work nicely.
The Review
My time was quickly approaching, so I drove downtown. Her incall is in a respectable area where parking can be challenging, so I left plenty of time to find parking. I felt fortunate to find a spot about a block away. The incall was in a sleek, modern high-rise. She asked that I text her when I arrived and was standing in the entrance. She gave me a voice call to give me her buzz code and room number, and to hear my voice, I presume. I went up the elevator and I was off to the races.
I knocked softly on the door and was let in. Her entrance hallway was dimly lit. She was wearing what looked like a little black dress, and either wasn't wearing makeup or it was so light I couldn't tell. I was mildly surprised, as in her few blurred-face and partial-face photos she was always wearing lipstick. It really didn't matter to me either way. Her hair was down and loose. We traded greetings, a hug and a very luxurious kiss. I knew she had cats, but neither saw them or smelled any any sign of them. I believe she's a nonsmoker and I was happy not to sense any sign of smoke as well.
I scanned her living area quickly as I passed through. It was a very cozy space, casually furnished, and looked well lived in. It struck me as the kind of place a busy university student would have, a theme that I'll come back to. She asked if I had something for her, and I handed over the envelope with a smile. I freshened up quickly in the sparsely appointed bathroom, and headed to the bedroom.
She stood waiting for me. We kissed, slowly, sensually. She's a delightful kisser. She describes her service as a GFE and the usual acronyms were enjoyed. She very much felt like she was enjoying my company, with no trace of acting. We were still actively having fun when I realized my time was up. I pointed it out to be fair to her, but she was unconcerned. I was having a very good day and was able to do her company justice, an increasingly rare event for me it seems. I think that at least part of that was due to the evident sincerity of her own enjoyment.
Afterwards, we cuddled and kissed. We chatted briefly, including about reviews. I'm not sure she was still comfortable with them, but after some assurance she was okay with my writing one. She didn't see this one before I posted it, nor did she know what I was going to say.
I could have stayed there for hours, I was so blissed. But my time was well past, so just I collected myself and said my goodbyes.
Epilogue
In her Tryst ad, Juliet refers to herself as that girl next door, possibly as a librarian to whom you would sneak glances of admiration. I think she has those vibes, yes. But I would go a little further than that. I pictured her as a student librarian in my university library. Someone who was in her early twenties, although I think she's more likely at the other end of that decade in actuality. Someone not so experienced in life and loving. Someone who had a nervous giggle as we spoke. But only because she really was nervous. Like a young civilian, in other words. Not an escort at all, although of course I know better. Someone unpolished, but willing to learn. And more importantly, willing to learn with me. I was reminded of my own long ago university days. Before escorts, before meeting thirty- and forty-something polished professionals, before becoming jaded. I was glad to return to those days once again, if only for a very short time.
But luckily, I can always go back.
