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By *trideMan
over a year ago
Plymouth |
The Bkk barbershop ffm happened about 40 years ago. A more recent exotic erotic encounter occurred in Delhi (India). The year was 2010, and this is an extract from my diary:
Day 5.
To GB Road again via an open market for a pair of plastic sandals at R60 (£1).
At about 2:00 pm the duk-duk dropped me off at the "fort" end. I walked to the other end and counted four buildings with at least one woman on a high balcony. I was almost back to the fort when a tout stopped me and jabbered away in Hindi. I recognised "fuck-fuck twenty rupees". After spending a couple of hours walking about slums with the temperature in the high 30s, my shirt and handkerchief were soaked, and I was feeling somewhat less than randy. But I had to find out what sort of shag was on offer for 13p! Could they get a camel up those narrow twisting stairs? (I was working in Saudi at the time).
So I followed him up filthy steep concrete stairs to a dimly lit room with a few people sitting on the floor at one end. Then turned through a doorway into another one, much the same. We stopped at a pair of pale blue plank doors, which were opened to reveal a six foot square windowless cell. There was a four foot wide wooden shelf along the opposite wall at bed height, and a small wall fan. All lit by a dim bulb which failed to hide the filthy condition of the hole. I had to go in and sit on the shelf, and was followed by a bloke who sat beside me, and a fat woman who sat on the other side. Another bloke came in, bolted both doors shut at the top, and stood with his back to them. It was a bit crowded! From the ensuing jabber, I deduced that I had to pay them R500 (£7-10), and then they would bring in a girl. I tried to make them understand that I would only pay after I had seen the girl, and failed. So I'm in this small locked cell with two blokes demanding money from me. But not for long. I stood up, shoved the door-keeper out of the way, and unbolted the doors. The other bloke took hold of my arm, but when I gave him the look, he let go. A bit quick. And off I went, back through the gloomy rooms and down the stairs.
Outside the entrance, there were two fat women, and a petite one with a nice face. I smiled at her and said "Hello". It turned out that she was in the business. So back we trudge to the cell, followed by one bloke, who took my seven quid and departed. The girl bolted the doors, dropped her pyjama-bottoms and knickers, and sat cross-legged on the shelf, with her back to an end wall. She pulled her dress up over her tits, and got me to sit on the shelf facing her. Sadly, she wasn't petite below at all. Short, but quite big around! Not what I wanted at all. Then it was jabber, jabber, jabber, again. I guess there was a menu, like the more you pay, the more you can do. I kept saying "No" until she stopped jabbering and helped me get my trousers and pants off. Then she tried to get a condom on Little Willie. This wasn't easy, because, for some reason, he was only at half mast, and her inept massaging was hurting me nuts. I helped to stiffen things up with a bit of foreplay. But it was touchy-feely only, no lickey-suckey. The poor girl got it on eventually. And then she put on ANOTHER one! This is a world first!
So off we go, in the missionary position. I'm there, banging away, and banging away, and banging away, but to no avail. Things just didn't come right, somehow. Have you ever tried shagging a girl you don't fancy on a dirty wooden shelf in a hot filthy cell through two condoms? Well, I gave up after a while. I gave her a R100 (£1-40) tip because she did her best, even if it was inept.
I had no problems escaping, and felt that I'd had the worst shag ever, but perhaps reasonable value for my £8-50, all things considered.
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