I don’t often remark on my encounters as escort, not because they are not worth talking about, but for one: ‘What happens in Cassie, stays in Cassie’ … erm, that doesn’t sound quite like it did in my head, but I’m sure you get the drift; and I wouldn’t want to spoil the sale potential of my future memoirs. ;oP
The thing is, it is seldom that I meet someone who can follow, let alone outdistance my quirky, bizarre sense of humour and view of life. Over the years I have learnt to recognise the spark of confusion in my conversation partner’s eyes before it turns to panic and they start edging towards the emergency exit.
Well – I have met my match! No matter what freakish turns of the mind I took, he was right there with me, often anticipating my flights of fancy or taking a weird twist even I was not expecting.
After having such stimulating animated conversation I feared sex – the actual reason of the liaison, would be a bit of an anticlimax…
…Sooo?… what? …was what what? You want to know about the sex?
Lets just say, I made a very good impression of a Cheshire cat afterwards, complete with purr and I slept very well last night.
I have only one regret: I should have recorded our conversation, I can only remember about half of it, though in quiet moments as my mind wanders, a snippet from last night pops up and has me grinning insanely. Fine while I’m alone, but it seems to draw nervous glance in the streets of St Helier and caused quite a stir in the De Gruchy cookware department – yeah – sniggering out loud is pretty inappropriate when holding a meat cleaver.
No, I’m not going to go into why I was looking at large kitchen knives and I didn’t buy one.
Love Cassie X
You Chester Escort (at large in Jersey)