Sara has been around for a few years now. I can't say she's never passed my notice. I saw rave reviews and the frequent ads here. I don't believe that she is currently advertising here (or anywhere else, it seems) but many of her old ads are still around here on PERB and will be turned up with the most cursory of searches.
I have to confess a certain amusement when I read her ads. They showed a certain feistiness. The impression I got was that she would take guff from absolutely no one. When I caught up to her recently, she mentioned that some folks found her a wee bit intimidating. I could see that. But if that was all there was to her, this story would probably have stopped there. But I also saw more. I saw glimpses of a warm heart between the lines in her ads and in what others had written about her. Kind of like a marshmallow heart surrounded by armored alligator hide. She sounded intriguing and much more complex than that merely previously mentioned feistiness.
So she had been on my radar for a long time, but it had never seemed to really work out to book her. I've tended to book relatively short notice the last couple of years, and between her popularity and her self-proclaimed low volume things never seemed to be able to line up.
So one day, I decided to bite the bullet and book further in advance. If life was going to overtake events and one of us was going to have to cancel, it would be fate. After all, I only wanted to satisfy my longtime curiosity. She couldn't be that good. Right?
I can hear the chuckles out there already.
So about a month ago, I booked a fair bit of time in advance. Long enough to for me to ponder from time to time what she might be like. But the day finally came, and I texted my confirmation an hour ahead of time and got her address. Her communication is meticulous and detail oriented, traits that I greatly appreciate. Her texts were and are a little larger than life, see my feistiness comment. I got into the Birdmobile and headed off into the unknown.
I parked and walked up to the door. She said she would leave the door unlocked, and to walk right in. I'm not really exaggerating to say that she fairly pounced on me as soon as I entered. I saw her eyes glitter and her smile broaden. Before we even had a chance to exchange greetings, she let me know that she thought I was appealing in no uncertain terms. She peeled off my coat and started to roam with her hands and mouth, without a word. Wow. What a greeting. At her claimed age of 51 (which I have absolutely no reason to doubt, unless it would be to guess younger) she wore her cougar reputation honestly by trying to devour me just inside her doorway. After a few minutes, I finally was able to shed my shoes and let her drag me into her lair, I mean play room.
Thinking back, it seems like the last couple of years I've gravitated to twenty-somethings. It wasn't a conscious decision, but rather a reflection of the particular ladies I'd connected with. As well, my participation in this hobby has reduced due to the pandemic and certain life changes, making me less likely to seek out variety. Bless their twenty-something hearts, they have been wonderful to me and I have many fond memories.
But I've always known that there was something special about older ladies. MILFs, as they are often called. The first half of that unfortunate moniker refers to motherhood and a certain kind of gentle nurturing caring that implies. Sara had that in spades and I glimpsed it from time to time, with her well thought out preparation. She seemed to have everything that she might need, close to hand. I saw it also in her light touch and her concern about whether I was enjoying myself.
But then there's the other half of the MILF sobriquet. It suggests a lust for sex. Ravenous and rapacious, the archetype of the cougar in animal prints. Even though I am well past the age range of their preferred prey, Sara devoured me as if I was lamb rather than the mutton I am. All the time, she wore a mischievous grin that told me she was using me for her own fun rather than the other way around. I remember reading in one of her reviews that you had better be prepared to bring your A game when visiting her. Oh boy, you can say that again. But rather than intimidate me into performance anxiety, she inspired me to do more and better. And miracle of miracles, I did.
We chatted a little afterwards. She is a straight shooter and reminded me of the long-gone Kerry in that way. She told me about what her philosophy in doing this was, and what she hoped would happen with us. She kept coming back to the word connection. It is a odd thing, in this hobby, where the conventional wisdom is that it is all about getting your physical needs cared for, and little more. But I think there are many who aren't bold enough to state out loud that there are other, subtler, emotional needs that are also catered to. You know. The whole girlfriend experience thing.
I used to write a lot about chemistry and connection in this hobby. It hasn't been something I've thought much about for a while. I think it's because I've come to realize that you can tip the scales so much in that direction with the things you've done. Show up clean, fresh smelling and well groomed. Be polite and respectful, and you stand a good chance of getting good service and that goes a long way towards passing for chemistry. But perhaps it's been so long since I've felt true chemistry, that I've forgotten what it was like.
I read as many of Sara's reviews as I could before I booked her, and I saw many comments to the effect that she was the real deal. That her friendliness wasn't a put-on. That her interest and concern was genuine. It would be so easy and such a huge mistake to think that her friendliness was for you and you alone, but I could see how there might be many moments that one might feel that way.
My time with Sara was phenomenal, but it felt like there might be something a little more. I felt the spark of something that this old time teller of gentle tales might call chemistry, and the older and wiser 2022 review writer might call exemplary service. It's hard to know which. Perhaps it's a little of both. All I know is, there's only one way to find out. Either way, I think I'm in for a whole lot of fun.
I have to confess a certain amusement when I read her ads. They showed a certain feistiness. The impression I got was that she would take guff from absolutely no one. When I caught up to her recently, she mentioned that some folks found her a wee bit intimidating. I could see that. But if that was all there was to her, this story would probably have stopped there. But I also saw more. I saw glimpses of a warm heart between the lines in her ads and in what others had written about her. Kind of like a marshmallow heart surrounded by armored alligator hide. She sounded intriguing and much more complex than that merely previously mentioned feistiness.
So she had been on my radar for a long time, but it had never seemed to really work out to book her. I've tended to book relatively short notice the last couple of years, and between her popularity and her self-proclaimed low volume things never seemed to be able to line up.
So one day, I decided to bite the bullet and book further in advance. If life was going to overtake events and one of us was going to have to cancel, it would be fate. After all, I only wanted to satisfy my longtime curiosity. She couldn't be that good. Right?
I can hear the chuckles out there already.
So about a month ago, I booked a fair bit of time in advance. Long enough to for me to ponder from time to time what she might be like. But the day finally came, and I texted my confirmation an hour ahead of time and got her address. Her communication is meticulous and detail oriented, traits that I greatly appreciate. Her texts were and are a little larger than life, see my feistiness comment. I got into the Birdmobile and headed off into the unknown.
I parked and walked up to the door. She said she would leave the door unlocked, and to walk right in. I'm not really exaggerating to say that she fairly pounced on me as soon as I entered. I saw her eyes glitter and her smile broaden. Before we even had a chance to exchange greetings, she let me know that she thought I was appealing in no uncertain terms. She peeled off my coat and started to roam with her hands and mouth, without a word. Wow. What a greeting. At her claimed age of 51 (which I have absolutely no reason to doubt, unless it would be to guess younger) she wore her cougar reputation honestly by trying to devour me just inside her doorway. After a few minutes, I finally was able to shed my shoes and let her drag me into her lair, I mean play room.
Thinking back, it seems like the last couple of years I've gravitated to twenty-somethings. It wasn't a conscious decision, but rather a reflection of the particular ladies I'd connected with. As well, my participation in this hobby has reduced due to the pandemic and certain life changes, making me less likely to seek out variety. Bless their twenty-something hearts, they have been wonderful to me and I have many fond memories.
But I've always known that there was something special about older ladies. MILFs, as they are often called. The first half of that unfortunate moniker refers to motherhood and a certain kind of gentle nurturing caring that implies. Sara had that in spades and I glimpsed it from time to time, with her well thought out preparation. She seemed to have everything that she might need, close to hand. I saw it also in her light touch and her concern about whether I was enjoying myself.
But then there's the other half of the MILF sobriquet. It suggests a lust for sex. Ravenous and rapacious, the archetype of the cougar in animal prints. Even though I am well past the age range of their preferred prey, Sara devoured me as if I was lamb rather than the mutton I am. All the time, she wore a mischievous grin that told me she was using me for her own fun rather than the other way around. I remember reading in one of her reviews that you had better be prepared to bring your A game when visiting her. Oh boy, you can say that again. But rather than intimidate me into performance anxiety, she inspired me to do more and better. And miracle of miracles, I did.
We chatted a little afterwards. She is a straight shooter and reminded me of the long-gone Kerry in that way. She told me about what her philosophy in doing this was, and what she hoped would happen with us. She kept coming back to the word connection. It is a odd thing, in this hobby, where the conventional wisdom is that it is all about getting your physical needs cared for, and little more. But I think there are many who aren't bold enough to state out loud that there are other, subtler, emotional needs that are also catered to. You know. The whole girlfriend experience thing.
I used to write a lot about chemistry and connection in this hobby. It hasn't been something I've thought much about for a while. I think it's because I've come to realize that you can tip the scales so much in that direction with the things you've done. Show up clean, fresh smelling and well groomed. Be polite and respectful, and you stand a good chance of getting good service and that goes a long way towards passing for chemistry. But perhaps it's been so long since I've felt true chemistry, that I've forgotten what it was like.
I read as many of Sara's reviews as I could before I booked her, and I saw many comments to the effect that she was the real deal. That her friendliness wasn't a put-on. That her interest and concern was genuine. It would be so easy and such a huge mistake to think that her friendliness was for you and you alone, but I could see how there might be many moments that one might feel that way.
My time with Sara was phenomenal, but it felt like there might be something a little more. I felt the spark of something that this old time teller of gentle tales might call chemistry, and the older and wiser 2022 review writer might call exemplary service. It's hard to know which. Perhaps it's a little of both. All I know is, there's only one way to find out. Either way, I think I'm in for a whole lot of fun.
