Dreams are funny things. Most of mine are forgotten not long after I wake up, but there are a very few that make more of an impression. They stick around longer in my memory. Sometimes I remember them because of how vivid and realistic they were. After all, some of them are so intense that you start to wonder whether they really happened, or whether you just dreamed the whole thing.
I`ve found that my hobby outings are a little like dreams sometimes. Sometimes my memories of them mellow to hazy vague recollections of good times. But some of my sessions, a very few of them, they had been so enjoyable that I`d wondered whether they really were that good, or whether my imagination had enbellished them to the point that I had remembered them as having been better than they really were.
Until recently, I rarely saw the ladies who tour here. My local favorites have tended to keep me plenty busy. But most of my old favorites have since moved on, gotten busy with their lives, gotten scattered to the four winds. And my search for new favorites hasn`t been bearing much fruit lately. So I knew it was long past time to finally meet some of the ladies who had been intriguing me all these years.
So as part of that, I met Anna for the first time late last year. We had followed each other on the boards for quite a while, and even crossed paths socially a couple of years ago. I recounted that meeting here in the Vancouver Reviews, and rereading it recently it struck me what an ethereal delight it had been. So the big question was, would the magic from that evening in Vancouver repeat itself in the cold light of day, back at home? Well, of course there was only one way to find out.
I know she`s been coming to Winnipeg for a while now, but we had never met on my home turf. It was time, I`d say. I booked her well in advance and waited anxiously for our meeting redux. Finally, that day arrived last week when she came to town. I walked up to her door and knocked gently.
The door swung open and I stepped through. There she was, beaming at me from under that close-cropped blonde hair. I gave her a quick hug and I once again got a whiff of her faint scent of bay leaf and cinnamon. I have a keen nose for scents and I`ve never noticed those scents on anyone else. That evening in Vancouver came flooding back and I knew this was going to good. I just knew.
We sat on the sofa and she offered me a cool drink. Right away she brought up something that we had talked about the last time and though it had been perhaps 3 months since I`d seen her it was if it we had talked only yesterday. That instant sense of comfort I had felt the last time was even more so, now, because the ice had been broken and we were now well acquainted. We chatted for a short time, and then Anna suggested we move to the proverbial someplace more comfortable.
She put some soft music on. I don`t quite recall what it was now, perhaps it was some light jazz. But I certainly remember falling into each other`s arms, melting into a sensual deep kiss. She reminded me of a certain erogenous zone that I had discovered last time and I obliged by nuzzling it and kissing it softly. She started to breathe deeply and started to rub against what I later jokingly referred to as my throbbing tumescence.
I do have a bit of a reputation as a budding romance novelist, you know.
In any case, we were both well and truly eager to get the party started. We quickly shed our clothes, and Anna sat on the edge of the bed and I knelt between her splayed knees. I reached up to softly kiss her lips, her neck, and moved down as she watched.
Unlike our first meeting in Vancouver, this time we were both rested and now we also had the advantage of knowing better what the other liked. And as it turned out, one of those things is a shared appreciation for sensual play. Her tag line is `Serious Sensuality`, and it definitely isn`t just a slogan. But as man cannot live on bread alone, she, as I, relished rather more active play as we romped on. I brought her to la petite mort more than once, and I do think she would have been eager for even more, had we had more time. But my tempus fugited on to a very satisfactory climactic ending, and she settled in for a cuddle and more chat. We started to talk about our next time, and I think that should say it all. I relived my waking dream, and lived to tell the tale. And I can tell you that this time wasn`t like the last time.
It was even better.
I`ve found that my hobby outings are a little like dreams sometimes. Sometimes my memories of them mellow to hazy vague recollections of good times. But some of my sessions, a very few of them, they had been so enjoyable that I`d wondered whether they really were that good, or whether my imagination had enbellished them to the point that I had remembered them as having been better than they really were.
Until recently, I rarely saw the ladies who tour here. My local favorites have tended to keep me plenty busy. But most of my old favorites have since moved on, gotten busy with their lives, gotten scattered to the four winds. And my search for new favorites hasn`t been bearing much fruit lately. So I knew it was long past time to finally meet some of the ladies who had been intriguing me all these years.
So as part of that, I met Anna for the first time late last year. We had followed each other on the boards for quite a while, and even crossed paths socially a couple of years ago. I recounted that meeting here in the Vancouver Reviews, and rereading it recently it struck me what an ethereal delight it had been. So the big question was, would the magic from that evening in Vancouver repeat itself in the cold light of day, back at home? Well, of course there was only one way to find out.
I know she`s been coming to Winnipeg for a while now, but we had never met on my home turf. It was time, I`d say. I booked her well in advance and waited anxiously for our meeting redux. Finally, that day arrived last week when she came to town. I walked up to her door and knocked gently.
The door swung open and I stepped through. There she was, beaming at me from under that close-cropped blonde hair. I gave her a quick hug and I once again got a whiff of her faint scent of bay leaf and cinnamon. I have a keen nose for scents and I`ve never noticed those scents on anyone else. That evening in Vancouver came flooding back and I knew this was going to good. I just knew.
We sat on the sofa and she offered me a cool drink. Right away she brought up something that we had talked about the last time and though it had been perhaps 3 months since I`d seen her it was if it we had talked only yesterday. That instant sense of comfort I had felt the last time was even more so, now, because the ice had been broken and we were now well acquainted. We chatted for a short time, and then Anna suggested we move to the proverbial someplace more comfortable.
She put some soft music on. I don`t quite recall what it was now, perhaps it was some light jazz. But I certainly remember falling into each other`s arms, melting into a sensual deep kiss. She reminded me of a certain erogenous zone that I had discovered last time and I obliged by nuzzling it and kissing it softly. She started to breathe deeply and started to rub against what I later jokingly referred to as my throbbing tumescence.
I do have a bit of a reputation as a budding romance novelist, you know.
In any case, we were both well and truly eager to get the party started. We quickly shed our clothes, and Anna sat on the edge of the bed and I knelt between her splayed knees. I reached up to softly kiss her lips, her neck, and moved down as she watched.
Unlike our first meeting in Vancouver, this time we were both rested and now we also had the advantage of knowing better what the other liked. And as it turned out, one of those things is a shared appreciation for sensual play. Her tag line is `Serious Sensuality`, and it definitely isn`t just a slogan. But as man cannot live on bread alone, she, as I, relished rather more active play as we romped on. I brought her to la petite mort more than once, and I do think she would have been eager for even more, had we had more time. But my tempus fugited on to a very satisfactory climactic ending, and she settled in for a cuddle and more chat. We started to talk about our next time, and I think that should say it all. I relived my waking dream, and lived to tell the tale. And I can tell you that this time wasn`t like the last time.
It was even better.
