I remember my youth very well. I think sometimes, about those long ago days. About little victories, little defeats. Friends I had, now lost to time. I remember that first car. I spent way too much time, money and energy on it, and I remember what a lost cause it really was. But I had so much passion those days, and the world was brighter, newer, cleaner.
And most of all, I remember a certain young lady. I'll call her Leanne. That isn't her real name but for the sake of this review it might as well have been. She had pale skin and long straight dark hair. She had these huge brown orbs that often looked down on me with an amused smile. She was very pretty, and a pretty good flirt, with an unreasonably large amount of subtlety for someone so young. She flirted with me. She flirted with everyone, really. I never dated her. Actually, in the time I knew her I never saw that she dated anyone. She was from a very traditional family that kept their young women closely watched and closely handled. So I, ever the outsider, and definitely not being from her background, would never ever have had a chance with her. But even after all these years, I still remember that infatuation and that deep heartache of knowing that we would never be.
Many years have passed, and I've moved on. I've been very lucky in my life. I've found fame (mostly here), fortune (I don't clip coupons as often anymore), and much success in my profession. For the most part I'm pretty happy. I don't have any illusions that my life would have been more perfect if I'd wound up with Leanne. But every once in a long while I idly wonder what ever became of her.
In many ways, Lean wasn't someone I would normally have bothered with. I rarely see twenty-somethings and at her posted age of twenty she is at the opposite direction in age from my very few exceptions. Not all, I know, but many twenty-somethings haven't yet really learned about life and had the experiences that carve character. Not to mention that there are those certain very young ladies who think that merely being attractive and available could make up for lackluster service and a casual attitude for scheduling. As well, much is made of the fact that Lean is a very safe girl, and deep kissing and DATY are two of my fondest pleasures in life. She's also a touring lady, and I'm finding that as I'm going on in life I much prefer to cultivate regular visits to local ladies, rather than spend time with the ladies whom I'm never quite certain will return.
But I read recent complimentary reports of her and all it took was one click to her most recent ad. Perhaps the ad said Lean, but I recognized my Leanne. I wouldn't call her a doppleganger exactly, but she was a younger, prettier, more perfect interpretation of my memories. My eyes were convinced that I needed to meet her, but my head and heart still needed convincing. I read her reviews, and after I looked past the discussion of her restrictions, I saw a common thread. That she was sweet, and had depth. I made an exception. What the hell.
I texted her and set up our date for that evening. I texted her again about an hour before to confirm, and she said she might be a few minutes late, she might need more time after her previous client. I bit my lip. I wondered idly if I would pass him in the hallway. I pushed the thought from my mind.
I drove slowly to the hotel where she was working. I was getting nervous. I resisted the urge to text right at the tick of time and gave her a few more minutes. She was almost ready. And a few minutes later, I was at her door. I knocked softly, and it swung open.
Lean wore what looked like a skimpy teal one-piece bathing suit. Her hair was slightly damp from the shower. If she had makeup on, it was very light. But if there was someone who didn't really need makeup, it was Lean. Her cheeks had that rosy glow that only the very young in the best of health can muster. Her eyes were wide and inviting, her lips full, her lashes long.
We exchanged greetings and a gentle hug. We chatted a very little and she went to recline on the nearby bed. She asked if I wanted a shower. I had taken one immediately before I drove over, but I've learned to offer to take another one anyway if asked. She clearly wanted me to and it was no big deal, especially if it put her mind at ease.
I came back from my shower to see her lying on her stomach, fiddling with some music on her laptop. I lightly kissed her glorious smooth and taut cheeks, then moved up to stroke and kiss the ever so fine hairs on the small of her back. I moved up, kissing the nape of her neck, her cheek, her ear. She laughed. It tickled her. I lightly kissed her lips and held back the urge to use my tongue. She reached behind her neck to untie her outfit, and I let the towel drop. I lightly kissed and stroked her some more, and she was clearly relishing it. But we moved on eventually, trying several different positions. I think she liked the Asian cowgirl.
She did pick up her phone and text her next client during a brief lull in our playtime and I felt a sense of compromise.
We chatted lightly afterwards. The reviews were right. The parts that said she was sweet, with a good heart, and a deep soul. Because all those things were true, that evening. It seemed like those things that I couldn't do, didn't seem so important then. But the genuine caring, the gentleness, the touch of firm flesh- those were real and they seemed important.
As I was writing this review, I decided to do something I've never done before. I Googled Leanne. She still lives in Winnipeg. She's still pretty and she still has that long dark hair, but shot through with strands of grey now. She's married now with children. She has a successful career. And judging by her Facebook photos, she looks happy. What a lucky man she has. I'm happy for her. But I'll probably never tell her that, because our paths will probably never cross, especially in the same way that they did so many years ago.
No, Lean isn't my Leanne, any more than I'm sixteen now. But Lean let me for all too brief a time, to reach back and pluck a moment from my lost youth. And make that moment better than it ever was, or ever could be.
The past is a nice place to visit, but you can't live there. But I'm grateful for the opportunity to have revisited old fantasies with Lean. I'll go see her again, both on her current visit to Winnipeg and on future ones. I'll relive my past again, just for a few moments. But I also know those old fantasies will fall away, and be replaced by new memories of time spent with Lean. And that will be more than okay.
And most of all, I remember a certain young lady. I'll call her Leanne. That isn't her real name but for the sake of this review it might as well have been. She had pale skin and long straight dark hair. She had these huge brown orbs that often looked down on me with an amused smile. She was very pretty, and a pretty good flirt, with an unreasonably large amount of subtlety for someone so young. She flirted with me. She flirted with everyone, really. I never dated her. Actually, in the time I knew her I never saw that she dated anyone. She was from a very traditional family that kept their young women closely watched and closely handled. So I, ever the outsider, and definitely not being from her background, would never ever have had a chance with her. But even after all these years, I still remember that infatuation and that deep heartache of knowing that we would never be.
Many years have passed, and I've moved on. I've been very lucky in my life. I've found fame (mostly here), fortune (I don't clip coupons as often anymore), and much success in my profession. For the most part I'm pretty happy. I don't have any illusions that my life would have been more perfect if I'd wound up with Leanne. But every once in a long while I idly wonder what ever became of her.
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In many ways, Lean wasn't someone I would normally have bothered with. I rarely see twenty-somethings and at her posted age of twenty she is at the opposite direction in age from my very few exceptions. Not all, I know, but many twenty-somethings haven't yet really learned about life and had the experiences that carve character. Not to mention that there are those certain very young ladies who think that merely being attractive and available could make up for lackluster service and a casual attitude for scheduling. As well, much is made of the fact that Lean is a very safe girl, and deep kissing and DATY are two of my fondest pleasures in life. She's also a touring lady, and I'm finding that as I'm going on in life I much prefer to cultivate regular visits to local ladies, rather than spend time with the ladies whom I'm never quite certain will return.
But I read recent complimentary reports of her and all it took was one click to her most recent ad. Perhaps the ad said Lean, but I recognized my Leanne. I wouldn't call her a doppleganger exactly, but she was a younger, prettier, more perfect interpretation of my memories. My eyes were convinced that I needed to meet her, but my head and heart still needed convincing. I read her reviews, and after I looked past the discussion of her restrictions, I saw a common thread. That she was sweet, and had depth. I made an exception. What the hell.
I texted her and set up our date for that evening. I texted her again about an hour before to confirm, and she said she might be a few minutes late, she might need more time after her previous client. I bit my lip. I wondered idly if I would pass him in the hallway. I pushed the thought from my mind.
I drove slowly to the hotel where she was working. I was getting nervous. I resisted the urge to text right at the tick of time and gave her a few more minutes. She was almost ready. And a few minutes later, I was at her door. I knocked softly, and it swung open.
Lean wore what looked like a skimpy teal one-piece bathing suit. Her hair was slightly damp from the shower. If she had makeup on, it was very light. But if there was someone who didn't really need makeup, it was Lean. Her cheeks had that rosy glow that only the very young in the best of health can muster. Her eyes were wide and inviting, her lips full, her lashes long.
We exchanged greetings and a gentle hug. We chatted a very little and she went to recline on the nearby bed. She asked if I wanted a shower. I had taken one immediately before I drove over, but I've learned to offer to take another one anyway if asked. She clearly wanted me to and it was no big deal, especially if it put her mind at ease.
I came back from my shower to see her lying on her stomach, fiddling with some music on her laptop. I lightly kissed her glorious smooth and taut cheeks, then moved up to stroke and kiss the ever so fine hairs on the small of her back. I moved up, kissing the nape of her neck, her cheek, her ear. She laughed. It tickled her. I lightly kissed her lips and held back the urge to use my tongue. She reached behind her neck to untie her outfit, and I let the towel drop. I lightly kissed and stroked her some more, and she was clearly relishing it. But we moved on eventually, trying several different positions. I think she liked the Asian cowgirl.
She did pick up her phone and text her next client during a brief lull in our playtime and I felt a sense of compromise.
We chatted lightly afterwards. The reviews were right. The parts that said she was sweet, with a good heart, and a deep soul. Because all those things were true, that evening. It seemed like those things that I couldn't do, didn't seem so important then. But the genuine caring, the gentleness, the touch of firm flesh- those were real and they seemed important.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As I was writing this review, I decided to do something I've never done before. I Googled Leanne. She still lives in Winnipeg. She's still pretty and she still has that long dark hair, but shot through with strands of grey now. She's married now with children. She has a successful career. And judging by her Facebook photos, she looks happy. What a lucky man she has. I'm happy for her. But I'll probably never tell her that, because our paths will probably never cross, especially in the same way that they did so many years ago.
No, Lean isn't my Leanne, any more than I'm sixteen now. But Lean let me for all too brief a time, to reach back and pluck a moment from my lost youth. And make that moment better than it ever was, or ever could be.
The past is a nice place to visit, but you can't live there. But I'm grateful for the opportunity to have revisited old fantasies with Lean. I'll go see her again, both on her current visit to Winnipeg and on future ones. I'll relive my past again, just for a few moments. But I also know those old fantasies will fall away, and be replaced by new memories of time spent with Lean. And that will be more than okay.
