GirlfriendLeah in
Preston but also works in
Manchester and
Liverpool90m Outcall £275
External Link/Members Only or
External Link/Members OnlyADHD types; scroll down to Summary & Conclusion.BackgroundFreshly retreating from this debacle
https://www.ukpunting.com/index.php?topic=199919.0 I consoled myself with a mooch around town for the late afternoon, pitching up at a café to people-watch, and staring-on, agog, at the thickly trowelled eyebrows which are uniformly pasted onto every passing female under 30.
I'm currently at that uncomfortable age where, if I’m out with a Dolly, (or walking past reception), my instinctive sense is to assume that I'll seamlessly pass as her older-man; or, at a push... as an uncle, treating his niece after she's successfully defended her doctoral thesis. But I've recently become aware that I am fooling myself, and that, to most sensible onlookers, such easy-to-reach and blunt clichés don’t cut the mustard - I'll simply look like a man groping well beneath his minimum acceptable age group. It occurred to me that the type of Oompa Loompas strutting in front of me were therefore out, and thus brow-beaten, I'd have to give serious attention to what might pass muster unnoticed.
Comms -
...interesting
Returning to my hotel, I began what I assumed would be a leisurely browse of the finest whoring to be found in Preston. I quickly drew up my short-list of those in the 30+ bracket and dispatched four ravens with my enquiries. One was abruptly shot down by lack of availability. Another looked promising until, an hour or so's texting later, she sprang it on me that she only does car meets, ruling me out on that occasion. The third, however, came home well enough with an agreement to 90 minutes of vanilla-flavour ruffty commencing later that evening, chez moi. I chilled a bottle in anticipation - and looked forward to telling the remaining non-responder that her services were not required.
With an hour or so to spare, I'd hidden the socks I'd left festooned about, and was deep in my pre-match prep zone; utterly focussed on ironing my shirt sleeves to a crisp, linear perfection; when a message buzzed through. My chosen entertainer first requested a postponement for an hour; and then, in a quick-spiralling succession of texts, called-off altogether due to a series of implausible coincidences. The clock was by now at 20:45 and painful experience had taught me that this can mean that the best acts are all long since spoken-for. Mild panic began to gather at the margins, but then... saved! - the fourth raven came back with an affirmative. The drawback was that it would have to be an incall to a seedy part of town; - but, needs must, and so I reached for my boots. Keys in hand, an afterthought message popped-up on screen:
"Do you like to sniff something?". It took me fully three minutes of puzzlement to work out what on earth she could mean by that, but only another one to decide, perhaps too abstemiously, that this meant she wasn't going to pass
my sniff test, and accordingly that I'd have to resign myself to an evening’s solo play on the pink oboe.
But, the infinite-improbability drive then turned up the least likely resolution - extraordinarily, all of number three’s coincidences had untangled and her shit was now inexplicably together. With only the irritating addition that I must take care of a £7 taxi fare each way, she, GirlfriendLeah, would be delivered to me in no more than 25 minutes.
The BroadJimmy Grey Cab dropped off his passenger, who, as she disembarked on to the busy street, did not (I thought) obviously look like a too-young-for-me tart. Much like his counterpart on this forum, Jimmy nevertheless gave me the benefit of an unambiguously disapproving side-look, despite the “round-it-up-to-a-tenner” tip that I had gave expressly to sidestep any such censoriousness. Too bad for you, I thought; I'm shortly going to be snug inside that piece of fluff... and she and I both sprang into the lobby and to our awaiting chamber, full of anticipation.
There are only two public pictures of Leah on her AW page, and at the booking stage, I wasn't convinced that either were her original pictures or representative of her. I'm still not sure of the former (because of the absence of the tattoos that I saw in person), but they do give a good indication of her body shape. Once inside my door and peeling her jacket from her, I found her to be an attractive, but racy-looking rather than pretty woman, and most likely around 30. Of slightly smaller than average height, her heels, dress and slenderness contrive to make her seem taller. She's over-tanned, decorated with perhaps over half a dozen tattoos, and, predictably enough, more are regrettably on the way. Her hair was long, but I thought it dirty blonde-to-brown, unlike the AW pictures. Lighting can change these things; as can dye and tints. We sat down where I could take in more at my leisure.
PersonalityPersonality? Who gives a rat’s ass about personality you say? Well, me: it's important that I enjoy all aspects of a woman's company; natter, nattiness and nastiness alike. And here, Leah fell, and to my tastes, fell badly. She has an unusual hodge-podge of a voice - what started out with vowels as broad as the West Lancashire Plain they purported to come from, morphed, after barely a glass of wine (albeit a too-quickly necked one), into a unmistakeable Merseysider's neeeeysal twang. Few people like that accent, though I can enjoy listening, and so I did.
Leah is, by her own account, a lady with a lot of education. Unfortunately, and excuse the snideness here, but not much of it is very good or interesting: basically it's BAs in Bugger All. She will, however, return to the important and fascinating subject of her academic prowess frequently and with great enthusiasm if you let her, and what utter tripe you will find yourself having to endure. In truth, the more I heard, the less I liked her, so it was to my surprisingly mixed feelings that she broke a cardinal rule and asked to accept a couple of incoming calls from her mates; who were being drunk and shrill somewhere else. Apparently, Leah manages a little coven of them, and takes a 20% cut - and so, by the time she finished the calls, she was irate that they were out on the jolly, instead of working hard like her, bringing joy to her customers. She then indulged us both in some world-weary pimp-talk
“the trouble with these girls” etc, and that point I mentally wrote-off the option that I'd been reserving if we'd the good fortune to enjoy good rapport, of asking if she'd like to extend the appointment for another few hours. On the plus side, this did at least provide use with a neat cue to leave the terrible conversation and have her undress.
Service.Leah has the kind of body that underwear designers hope and pray for, only a little more toned. It really is her exquisite strength; it's a pleasure to witness it flex and arch; wiggle, writhe and twist before your eyes. With no clear plan in mind, I asked that she recline so that I could enjoy a closer, pervy appreciation. Unbidden, she reached for a toy and, legs akimbo, pitched straight in, whilst I admired the unfolding view, only adding the occasional note of direction, encouragement or approval.
Three courses of homemade vanilla were served. Foreplay was as girlfriend-like as a non-kinkster could wish for: she kissed tenderly; she blew dutifully (without), received obligingly (all fresh and natural) and fucked as if to relieve herself of the obligation to do so again for another three days. I do recall observing, as I proceeded towards my happy ending that right towards the final ascent, a streak of laziness became evident, just when I was rather hoping that I'd be allowed to wallow in my own - but other than to say that her energy levels dropped, she didn't do something wrong per sé. Not even when
as I watched the clock, and with still 10 or so minutes to go (and bearing in mind her time-out for handling her whores), I confess I was a little disappointed to see that instead of stretching out and enjoying the post-coital togetherness, she began the business of concluding and the inexorable gathering of knickers, watches and wits.
"That was a poor choice", thought I -
"& there's goes your taxi fare back"; but in the event, she didn't have the cheek to ask for it, or forgot that she did.
Her 1 hour in-call rate is £150. I coughed up £230 or thereabouts for a 90 min out-call. Visitors to the area may be surprised, I certainly was, that those prices are not only not unusual, but that there are some even higher. Put this broad in a big city and, as a youngish Englishwoman, she'd probably command more, although it’s also my view that she'd also find herself out of her depth with the type of customer she proclaims to prefer. With her character
she's simply too much rough and not enough diamond to be great value; though her rates are probably fair ...ish for the area and competition.
Summary & conclusionI am glad that I booked Leah, and that she managed to get herself organised at the 11th hour. It was a credit to her that she gave advance warning of the problem, despite the annoying ineptitude of the reason behind it. The sex was good, albeit not stand-out accomplished or of itself, memorable... although…
did I mentioned her tits?! No?
They are fantastic: my ideal in fact... barely-there little A cups, if that; but utterly, beautifully, sublimely shaped and proportioned. For these, I would travel, and if you like them that way, you should too.
There is however, a price to pay.
Leah is a colossally conceited and vain bore, and she doesn't know it. That said, she won't care tuppence about this review because, as her AW page claims,
she is retiring in a mere 3 days. I'd normally treat that with some scepticism, but it tallies with something that she mentioned some time ago in our meeting; that she hoped to take up a job offer on the far side. My apologies for not penning this sooner, but those who have the appetite for any the above, still have just-enough time to sample it, if you want to.
In conclusion, this is a
positive, but, having been a close-call neutral, I can't recommend her with great enthusiasm unless you are really into small boobs. And even though I am, personally I would now fish elsewhere.
Topic: GirlfriendLeah in Preston but also works in Manchester and Liverpool (Read 1707 times)