Craziest Experiences

[Mampr]

Did she get her degree? And if so, still an SB?

 

[manfrenjentsen]

Nothing too crazy for me. Just interesting.

Banging a Chinese provider in K9 and she answers the phone and I believe it’s her husband. I stop until she hangs up then we wrap it up.

Different place with a Japanese provider. The were stalls enclosed by curtains. It was busy and I got there early and take the full hour. A young girl was handling the front door and she was inexperienced. So I’m sitting on a chair getting a BJ just enjoying myself and this young girl pulls back a corner of the curtain and is just staring at us. I believe she was hoping to speak with my girl but she didn’t say a word and noticed she was busy. She might’ve been in shock. She closed the curtain and walked away.

One last one. In CT banging away and the stall barely fit the table. The timer goes off and an arm reaches through from outside and shuts off the timer. Surreal.

 

[DeuceJiggalow]

Pre covid, I met a sugar baby on seeking. She was bi Japanese mid 20s doing her phd in London. I met her and had a great night. We chatted a bit afterwards when she ended up sleeping over and found out it was her bday later that week (saw her I’d to verify).

I asked her what she wanted for her bday and she said she’s never been taken out since she’s arrived in london and never had a 3some. I take her to a nice Michelin restaurant wine and dine and booked an escort for later that night. On our way back to the sex shop and bought a double ended dildo and this leather strappy outfit for her. 2nd girl showed up and I had my best mff (at that time). Chemistry was just there they made out. She wore the double ended dildo and fucked the other girl. They both sucked me off. I fucked both of them. Got the 2nd girl for 1 hr she ended up staying for 3. Tipped her extra. The sugar baby refused my donation.

Long story short saw her a few more times and chat occasionally. Found out her parents are yakuza and owns a soap land in Tokyo. Looking forward to my Japan trip ;3

Sounds like similar to rinkanshojo on Reddit? She’s also yakuza, but has left the family. She has a wild life, goes by Saori Saki on Skype if ya wanna slide into dem DMs.

 

[Yangwei]

Banging a Chinese provider in K9 and she answers the phone and I believe it’s her husband. I stop until she hangs up then we wrap it up.

You're nice. I keep going. It is a small blow to the ego that they can go from "Ahh ahh ahh" to a conversational tone while I maintain my rhythm.

I do enjoy those calls from noobs asking about extras. "No sex here," she says while I'm sodomizing her.

 

[manfrenjentsen]

You're nice. I keep going.

only cuz I was ready to pop.

 

[Reggetonero]

sup all. Many years ago I went to the dynamic duo shop in CTown. Their third stooge had brought her grandson INTO the shop during OPERATING hours. He was on his iPad while all 3 were “working”. I was like WTF and one just laughed and said the boy had his headphones on and on his iPad. Boy was there ALOT of noise from the 3. It was weird but I was horny and needed to get the poison out of my body. Lol

 

[Businessman]

Sounds like similar to rinkanshojo on Reddit? She’s also yakuza, but has left the family. She has a wild life, goes by Saori Saki on Skype if ya wanna slide into dem DMs.

Dm me a picture of rinkanshojo . I tried to look on Reddit but couldn’t find pics

 

[DeuceJiggalow]

Dm me a picture of rinkanshojo . I tried to look on Reddit but couldn’t find pics

She has some old pics on there. It’s in one of her posts. Check that you’re spelling her handle correctly. Try adding a space after rinkan?

 

[Toobit02]

This just recently happened....I went to a new local amp that had just opened a few Sundays ago. I was greeted at the door by a fairly young lady late 20's early 30's, very cute with a smoking body. We start the massage and quickly agree on everything for a few ben's. She undresses and I cant believe how hot this young lady is but when we start she is surprised and taken back by my size. I'm not huge, just slightly above average but it is thick. First she says she cant, then she says she wants too, then she says lets try but slow. Lots of lube and I slowly try to enter her, I finally do and her eyes were popping out of her head like Jackie Gleason . I ask if she's ok, she says yes and to stay still. She is squirming and shaking like I have never seen before. I work up to some slow pumping and she's pulling at everything, the sheets, my hair, the wall whatever she can grab going nuts. I pop, climb off and she is breathing so heavy she says she needs to rest. She attempts to get up and she faints and falls to the floor. I was like Holy Shit!, I pick her up, lay her down on the table and its takes her about 5 min to gather herself, catch her breath and calm down. We get dressed and I'm trying to get out of there and she asks, when you come back? I said after what just happened you want to see me again? Her eyes got real big and with a big smile she says yes, please come back for me. I was shocked but she must have liked the C. I haven't been back yet but I'm going to real soon.

 

[Blixen]

This just recently happened....I went to a new local amp that had just opened a few Sundays ago. I was greeted at the door by a fairly young lady late 20's early 30's, very cute with a smoking body. We start the massage and quickly agree on everything for a few ben's. She undresses and I cant believe how hot this young lady is but when we start she is surprised and taken back by my size. I'm not huge, just slightly above average but it is thick. First she says she cant, then she says she wants too, then she says let’s try but slow. Lots of lube and I slowly try to enter her, I finally do and her eyes were popping out of her head like Jackie Gleason . I ask if she's ok, she says yes and to stay still. She is squirming and shaking like I have never seen before. I work up to some slow pumping and she's pulling at everything, the sheets, my hair, the wall whatever she can grab going nuts. I pop, climb off and she is breathing so heavy she says she needs to rest. She attempts to get up and she faints and falls to the floor. I was like Holy Shit!, I pick her up, lay her down on the table and its takes her about 5 min to gather herself, catch her breath and calm down. We get dressed and I'm trying to get out of there and she asks, when you come back? I said after what just happened you want to see me again? Her eyes got real big and with a big smile she says yes, please come back for me. I was shocked but she must have liked the C. I haven't been back yet but I'm going to real soon.

La petite mort.

 

[Businessman]

She has some old pics on there. It’s in one of her posts. Check that you’re spelling her handle correctly. Try adding a space after rinkan?

Oh yea not her. Way too busty to be my friend lol

 

[Hobby1975]

In 24 years of mongering, lots of great experiences around the world, and some not so great.

My best experience was in a downtown Manhattan massage place which also had an apartment on E 29th st and 2nd Ave.

They had a young (21) white chick called “Melody”. Great kisser, and absolutely sublime BBBJ. The first time I saw her, I went down on her after making out for ten minutes. I gently wiggled a finger inside her ass while I was licking her.

She not only kept it in but started breathing heavily. Long story short. It got to where I would shove all five fingers up her ass, take them out, and stick them in her mouth. She’d lick them off, after first licking all her cunt juices off my face. Then give me the sloppiest, best BBBJ and let me CIM, then swallow it.

And no tip: she waved it away every time. Just the house fee.

I saw her ten or twelve times in about six months. 18 years later, I still sometimes masturbate to memories of her. Wow!

 

[30000 rpm]

Here’s a weird story that happened to me, it’s about a call girl... I think. This is a long story, so I’ll probably lose most of you along the way. But I’m still kind of blown away by what happened, over 25 years ago. This is the first time I’ve written it down.

I was living in the East Village in a cheap studio walk-up, top floor. Tiny, actually, but it had nice views and an awesome skylight.
I did a lot of drugs back then, and was feeling lousy and hungover one night. The sky had opened up like a monsoon, which fit my mood, so I put on a raincoat and rubbers, went for a walk.
I was on my way home through Thompkins Sq Park when I see a young woman just standing there and staring at some statue, she’s soaking wet, and I say in passing, How’s it going?

I don’t exactly expect a response, so I’m walking on when I hear, ‘I’ve been better’.
I come up beside her and we chat. I’m kind of incredulous because she’s talking to me, a total stranger, and she’s actually gorgeous: tall and slim, beautiful dark eyebrows and large brown eyes, a full sensuous mouth, perfect porcelain skin. But soaked through like a wet cat in the rain.
She’s not real talkative but I gather she’s some kind of photographer. She gave up a stint in another country to marry some dude... from her silence I’m guessing that he ditched her.
This is all totally surreal, so I decide to go for it, and ask her if she’d like to come up to my place which is around the corner, to get dry.

Long story not quite as long, when we tramped up to my 6th floor palace I start up a fire in the small wood stove next to the kitchen table - no landlord would allow that nowadays - and ask her if she’d like to dry her clothes.
Without saying a word, she starts taking her stuff off and hanging it around the room, on chairs, whatever. She strips down to... nothing. I’m in awe - her body is slim and perfectly toned, her skin smooth and shining, her breasts small and perky, she’s sporting a dark trimmed little bush.

We spend the next few hours in each other’s arms. It was incredible. No talking, just physical, almost psychic connection. My reality was confused, like entwined with a dream, and I’m happier than I’ve been in months, maybe years, and we both drift off to sleep in my small bed. I awake a few times with her next to me, sometimes her arm is around me, her breathing on my shoulder. I can see the sky has cleared now through the skylight, the moonlight shows her shape under the sheets. She’s got some perfume on that’s not strong, but noticeable, that I’ve never smelled before. I fall asleep surrounded by the scent.

Sometime in the early morning I wake up - is it dawn? The girl is dressed, leaning over me, her lips touching mine.
‘My love, I gotta go. Do you have a few Benjamins for me?’
I’m awake now, groggy and confused. Wait, she’s a whore? Huh? Fuck!
I reach for my pants, feeling completely disillusioned and angry because I thought the connection had been real. I stuff all the cash I have into her hand and tell her to close the door quietly on the way out.
I try to get back to sleep, but in 2 minutes I’m wide awake - I already want to see her again, but I didn’t even get her name! That weird perfume is still on the sheets and pillow.
I throw on my pants, a shirt, flip flops and take the six flights in a dash. I’m sure I’ll catch her at the end of the block.

I never saw her again.

I searched far and wide, never missed a rainy walk through the park. I scanned Craigslist ads, took out my own ads under Missed Connections, I described her to locals at neighborhood bars. I even called some photo agencies, news organizations, making excuses for why I was trying to find her...

It took me at least a year to forgive myself for letting this angel leave my life, prostitute or destitute, whatever she was, never found a trace of any information about her.

If you’re still reading, here’s where it gets really surreal. Cut to 10 years later. I’m hanging out with an artist friend one night. He’d done a lot of traveling over the years, including in war zones. We were doing the whiskey and cigar thing, and I asked him what the most prized possession from his travels was.
He thought about it, then rummaged around in an old chest (which was also his coffee table. I don’t know why I remembered that.)
He pulled out a khafiya, an Arab headscarf for women decorated with stitched birds and animals.
What is it? I asked. As I handled it, I was suddenly struck dumb. Was it my imagination? I thought I recognized that scent, like a hint of a perfume in the fabric.

Is something wrong? he asked. It belonged to a friend, someone he met in Baghdad, an American photographer.
He said ‘I never learned much about her, she was very private.’

Do you know where she is now?, I asked.

‘Sorry. She died in a car bombing in 2007 during the civil war when the Sunnis and Shias were killing each other. I always wished I could have gotten to know her better. No one knew who she was. Something about her... I’ve never forgotten that girl.’

Even now, writing about it, I really don’t know what to think about it all. Like I said, I did a lot of drugs back then. Did I hallucinate some of that stuff? Was I making connections that weren’t really there?
I guess I’ll take those questions to my grave.
If you’ve made it this far, thanks for reading. Feels good to write it all down.

 

[30000 rpm]

Here’s a weird story that happened to me, it’s about a call girl... I think. This is a long story, so I’ll probably lose most of you along the way. But I’m still kind of blown away by what happened, over 25 years ago. This is the first time I’ve written it down.

I was living in the East Village in a cheap studio walk-up, top floor. Tiny, actually, but it had nice views and an awesome skylight.
I did a lot of drugs back then, and was feeling lousy and hungover one night. The sky had opened up like a monsoon, which fit my mood, so I put on a raincoat and rubbers, went for a walk.
I was on my way home through Thompkins Sq Park when I see a young woman just standing there and staring at some statue, she’s soaking wet, and I say in passing, How’s it going?

I don’t exactly expect a response, so I’m walking on when I hear, ‘I’ve been better’.
I come up beside her and we chat. I’m kind of incredulous because she’s talking to me, a total stranger, and she’s actually gorgeous: tall and slim, beautiful dark eyebrows and large brown eyes, a full sensuous mouth, perfect porcelain skin. But soaked through like a wet cat in the rain.
She’s not real talkative but I gather she’s some kind of photographer. She gave up a stint in another country to marry some dude... from her silence I’m guessing that he ditched her.
This is all totally surreal, so I decide to go for it, and ask her if she’d like to come up to my place which is around the corner, to get dry.

Long story not quite as long, when we tramped up to my 6th floor palace I start up a fire in the small wood stove next to the kitchen table - no landlord would allow that nowadays - and ask her if she’d like to dry her clothes.
Without saying a word, she starts taking her stuff off and hanging it around the room, on chairs, whatever. She strips down to... nothing. I’m in awe - her body is slim and perfectly toned, her skin smooth and shining, her breasts small and perky, she’s sporting a dark trimmed little bush.

We spend the next few hours in each other’s arms. It was incredible. No talking, just physical, almost psychic connection. My reality was confused, like entwined with a dream, and I’m happier than I’ve been in months, maybe years, and we both drift off to sleep in my small bed. I awake a few times with her next to me, sometimes her arm is around me, her breathing on my shoulder. I can see the sky has cleared now through the skylight, the moonlight shows her shape under the sheets. She’s got some perfume on that’s not strong, but noticeable, that I’ve never smelled before. I fall asleep surrounded by the scent.

Sometime in the early morning I wake up - is it dawn? The girl is dressed, leaning over me, her lips touching mine.
‘My love, I gotta go. Do you have a few Benjamins for me?’
I’m awake now, groggy and confused. Wait, she’s a whore? Huh? Fuck!
I reach for my pants, feeling completely disillusioned and angry because I thought the connection had been real. I stuff all the cash I have into her hand and tell her to close the door quietly on the way out.
I try to get back to sleep, but in 2 minutes I’m wide awake - I already want to see her again, but I didn’t even get her name! That weird perfume is still on the sheets and pillow.
I throw on my pants, a shirt, flip flops and take the six flights in a dash. I’m sure I’ll catch her at the end of the block.

I never saw her again.

I searched far and wide, never missed a rainy walk through the park. I scanned Craigslist ads, took out my own ads under Missed Connections, I described her to locals at neighborhood bars. I even called some photo agencies, news organizations, making excuses for why I was trying to find her...

It took me at least a year to forgive myself for letting this angel leave my life, prostitute or destitute, whatever she was, never found a trace of any information about her.

If you’re still reading, here’s where it gets really surreal. Cut to 10 years later. I’m hanging out with an artist friend one night. He’d done a lot of traveling over the years, including in war zones. We were doing the whiskey and cigar thing, and I asked him what the most prized possession from his travels was.
He thought about it, then rummaged around in an old chest (which was also his coffee table. I don’t know why I remembered that.)
He pulled out a khafiya, an Arab headscarf for women decorated with stitched birds and animals.
What is it? I asked. As I handled it, I was suddenly struck dumb. Was it my imagination? I thought I recognized that scent, like a hint of a perfume in the fabric.

Is something wrong? he asked. It belonged to a friend, someone he met in Baghdad, an American photographer.
He said ‘I never learned much about her, she was very private.’

Do you know where she is now?, I asked.

‘Sorry. She died in a car bombing in 2007 during the civil war when the Sunnis and Shias were killing each other. I always wished I could have gotten to know her better. No one knew who she was. Something about her... I’ve never forgotten that girl.’

Even now, writing about it, I really don’t know what to think about it all. Like I said, I did a lot of drugs back then. Did I hallucinate some of that stuff? Was I making connections that weren’t really there?
I guess I’ll take those questions to my grave.
If you’ve made it this far, thanks for reading. Feels good to write it all down.

 

[30000 rpm]

Real or not it's a melochonical

Here’s a weird story that happened to me, it’s about a call girl... I think. This is a long story, so I’ll probably lose most of you along the way. But I’m still kind of blown away by what happened, over 25 years ago. This is the first time I’ve written it down.

I was living in the East Village in a cheap studio walk-up, top floor. Tiny, actually, but it had nice views and an awesome skylight.
I did a lot of drugs back then, and was feeling lousy and hungover one night. The sky had opened up like a monsoon, which fit my mood, so I put on a raincoat and rubbers, went for a walk.
I was on my way home through Thompkins Sq Park when I see a young woman just standing there and staring at some statue, she’s soaking wet, and I say in passing, How’s it going?

I don’t exactly expect a response, so I’m walking on when I hear, ‘I’ve been better’.
I come up beside her and we chat. I’m kind of incredulous because she’s talking to me, a total stranger, and she’s actually gorgeous: tall and slim, beautiful dark eyebrows and large brown eyes, a full sensuous mouth, perfect porcelain skin. But soaked through like a wet cat in the rain.
She’s not real talkative but I gather she’s some kind of photographer. She gave up a stint in another country to marry some dude... from her silence I’m guessing that he ditched her.
This is all totally surreal, so I decide to go for it, and ask her if she’d like to come up to my place which is around the corner, to get dry.

Long story not quite as long, when we tramped up to my 6th floor palace I start up a fire in the small wood stove next to the kitchen table - no landlord would allow that nowadays - and ask her if she’d like to dry her clothes.
Without saying a word, she starts taking her stuff off and hanging it around the room, on chairs, whatever. She strips down to... nothing. I’m in awe - her body is slim and perfectly toned, her skin smooth and shining, her breasts small and perky, she’s sporting a dark trimmed little bush.

We spend the next few hours in each other’s arms. It was incredible. No talking, just physical, almost psychic connection. My reality was confused, like entwined with a dream, and I’m happier than I’ve been in months, maybe years, and we both drift off to sleep in my small bed. I awake a few times with her next to me, sometimes her arm is around me, her breathing on my shoulder. I can see the sky has cleared now through the skylight, the moonlight shows her shape under the sheets. She’s got some perfume on that’s not strong, but noticeable, that I’ve never smelled before. I fall asleep surrounded by the scent.

Sometime in the early morning I wake up - is it dawn? The girl is dressed, leaning over me, her lips touching mine.
‘My love, I gotta go. Do you have a few Benjamins for me?’
I’m awake now, groggy and confused. Wait, she’s a whore? Huh? Fuck!
I reach for my pants, feeling completely disillusioned and angry because I thought the connection had been real. I stuff all the cash I have into her hand and tell her to close the door quietly on the way out.
I try to get back to sleep, but in 2 minutes I’m wide awake - I already want to see her again, but I didn’t even get her name! That weird perfume is still on the sheets and pillow.
I throw on my pants, a shirt, flip flops and take the six flights in a dash. I’m sure I’ll catch her at the end of the block.

I never saw her again.

I searched far and wide, never missed a rainy walk through the park. I scanned Craigslist ads, took out my own ads under Missed Connections, I described her to locals at neighborhood bars. I even called some photo agencies, news organizations, making excuses for why I was trying to find her...

It took me at least a year to forgive myself for letting this angel leave my life, prostitute or destitute, whatever she was, never found a trace of any information about her.

If you’re still reading, here’s where it gets really surreal. Cut to 10 years later. I’m hanging out with an artist friend one night. He’d done a lot of traveling over the years, including in war zones. We were doing the whiskey and cigar thing, and I asked him what the most prized possession from his travels was.
He thought about it, then rummaged around in an old chest (which was also his coffee table. I don’t know why I remembered that.)
He pulled out a khafiya, an Arab headscarf for women decorated with stitched birds and animals.
What is it? I asked. As I handled it, I was suddenly struck dumb. Was it my imagination? I thought I recognized that scent, like a hint of a perfume in the fabric.

Is something wrong? he asked. It belonged to a friend, someone he met in Baghdad, an American photographer.
He said ‘I never learned much about her, she was very private.’

Do you know where she is now?, I asked.

‘Sorry. She died in a car bombing in 2007 during the civil war when the Sunnis and Shias were killing each other. I always wished I could have gotten to know her better. No one knew who she was. Something about her... I’ve never forgotten that girl.’

Even now, writing about it, I really don’t know what to think about it all. Like I said, I did a lot of drugs back then. Did I hallucinate some of that stuff? Was I making connections that weren’t really there?
I guess I’ll take those questions to my grave.
If you’ve made it this far, thanks for reading. Feels good to write it all down.

 

[30000 rpm]

Here’s a weird story that happened to me, it’s about a call girl... I think. This is a long story, so I’ll probably lose most of you along the way. But I’m still kind of blown away by what happened, over 25 years ago. This is the first time I’ve written it down.

I was living in the East Village in a cheap studio walk-up, top floor. Tiny, actually, but it had nice views and an awesome skylight.
I did a lot of drugs back then, and was feeling lousy and hungover one night. The sky had opened up like a monsoon, which fit my mood, so I put on a raincoat and rubbers, went for a walk.
I was on my way home through Thompkins Sq Park when I see a young woman just standing there and staring at some statue, she’s soaking wet, and I say in passing, How’s it going?

I don’t exactly expect a response, so I’m walking on when I hear, ‘I’ve been better’.
I come up beside her and we chat. I’m kind of incredulous because she’s talking to me, a total stranger, and she’s actually gorgeous: tall and slim, beautiful dark eyebrows and large brown eyes, a full sensuous mouth, perfect porcelain skin. But soaked through like a wet cat in the rain.
She’s not real talkative but I gather she’s some kind of photographer. She gave up a stint in another country to marry some dude... from her silence I’m guessing that he ditched her.
This is all totally surreal, so I decide to go for it, and ask her if she’d like to come up to my place which is around the corner, to get dry.

Long story not quite as long, when we tramped up to my 6th floor palace I start up a fire in the small wood stove next to the kitchen table - no landlord would allow that nowadays - and ask her if she’d like to dry her clothes.
Without saying a word, she starts taking her stuff off and hanging it around the room, on chairs, whatever. She strips down to... nothing. I’m in awe - her body is slim and perfectly toned, her skin smooth and shining, her breasts small and perky, she’s sporting a dark trimmed little bush.

We spend the next few hours in each other’s arms. It was incredible. No talking, just physical, almost psychic connection. My reality was confused, like entwined with a dream, and I’m happier than I’ve been in months, maybe years, and we both drift off to sleep in my small bed. I awake a few times with her next to me, sometimes her arm is around me, her breathing on my shoulder. I can see the sky has cleared now through the skylight, the moonlight shows her shape under the sheets. She’s got some perfume on that’s not strong, but noticeable, that I’ve never smelled before. I fall asleep surrounded by the scent.

Sometime in the early morning I wake up - is it dawn? The girl is dressed, leaning over me, her lips touching mine.
‘My love, I gotta go. Do you have a few Benjamins for me?’
I’m awake now, groggy and confused. Wait, she’s a whore? Huh? Fuck!
I reach for my pants, feeling completely disillusioned and angry because I thought the connection had been real. I stuff all the cash I have into her hand and tell her to close the door quietly on the way out.
I try to get back to sleep, but in 2 minutes I’m wide awake - I already want to see her again, but I didn’t even get her name! That weird perfume is still on the sheets and pillow.
I throw on my pants, a shirt, flip flops and take the six flights in a dash. I’m sure I’ll catch her at the end of the block.

I never saw her again.

I searched far and wide, never missed a rainy walk through the park. I scanned Craigslist ads, took out my own ads under Missed Connections, I described her to locals at neighborhood bars. I even called some photo agencies, news organizations, making excuses for why I was trying to find her...

It took me at least a year to forgive myself for letting this angel leave my life, prostitute or destitute, whatever she was, never found a trace of any information about her.

If you’re still reading, here’s where it gets really surreal. Cut to 10 years later. I’m hanging out with an artist friend one night. He’d done a lot of traveling over the years, including in war zones. We were doing the whiskey and cigar thing, and I asked him what the most prized possession from his travels was.
He thought about it, then rummaged around in an old chest (which was also his coffee table. I don’t know why I remembered that.)
He pulled out a khafiya, an Arab headscarf for women decorated with stitched birds and animals.
What is it? I asked. As I handled it, I was suddenly struck dumb. Was it my imagination? I thought I recognized that scent, like a hint of a perfume in the fabric.

Is something wrong? he asked. It belonged to a friend, someone he met in Baghdad, an American photographer.
He said ‘I never learned much about her, she was very private.’

Do you know where she is now?, I asked.

‘Sorry. She died in a car bombing in 2007 during the civil war when the Sunnis and Shias were killing each other. I always wished I could have gotten to know her better. No one knew who she was. Something about her... I’ve never forgotten that girl.’

Even now, writing about it, I really don’t know what to think about it all. Like I said, I did a lot of drugs back then. Did I hallucinate some of that stuff? Was I making connections that weren’t really there?
I guess I’ll take those questions to my grave.
If you’ve made it this far, thanks for reading. Feels good to write it all down.

 

[30000 rpm]

Melancholical story.
It's so good that I don't even care if it's true or not!!

 

[Dr Jonathan Doe]

A few years back, when living in fidi, used to go to samsun frequently. It was a decent spot for a surprisingly good massage and basic HE service. Had one or two girls there that would sometimes go a little further but never FS

Also, worth quickly mentioning that my usual MO is sticking with a girl for a while and chipping away at her over time, seeing if I can expand the menu with someone who otherwise would not go further with a client.

Anyway, there was a new girl there (Gina) who had barely been there a week. She was a tiny young thing, definitely low 20s, and was really reserved. Always had a mask on, wouldn't speak much, dressed in baggy flannel pajama pants and shirts.

BUT she gave the most magical HJ I've ever had. Unbelievably soft hands, slow strokes, perfect teasing and retreating to keep the magic going for a while. And the ST buildup was equally skilled and tantalizing

Went back to see her a few times in the first few weeks and began to work my charms. First I just put my hand on her inner thigh instead of her outter leg/butt and she JUMPED. Like a cat that saw a snake. But I asked for permission and slowly worked my way back there and she settled down, but didn't let me work my way up to her V just yet

Next session I got her to take her top off but she kept her bra on. Smooth skin. Tight but not toned. Just a beautiful, youthful body. She let me run my fingers on her belly and tease her belt line but not go further. She got a little trembly when I teased around there too

Finally, I just sat and waited for her at the next session. Was sitting at the edge of the bed instead of laying face down. She came in hesitantly and let me work slowly. First just held for a minute, from behind, and kissed her neck. Then eased her shirt up slowly and kissed her shoulders and stomach. Worked her bra off and took a nipple into my mouth and this girl was quivering like a leaf. After a minute I was working my hand down her stomach toward her pants and her body was *begging* at that point. Laid her down and ate her out and she exploded like she hadn't felt human contact before in her life. Like it was her first O. Made her cum a few times and went to lay on the table but she stepped out of the room.

Minute later one of the other girls came in and said that Gina had to go suddenly and that she would finish out the massage for me

And that was it. Never saw her again. She was definitely out of the rotation at Samsun by the next time I called and didn't get her direct contact or any info on where she might have gone, if she even stayed in the game

For all I know I ended her career before it even started

But if anyone has a lead, I'd love to see her again

 

[Ampmonger]

Most of my crazy experiences happened in NJ. I have a few I can share here, not in any particular order.

There was a hole in the wall go go in Paterson I used to visit. It was in an industrial area and I would hit it after work so I never really worried about anyone messing with my car or with me. At the time they didn't have any lap dance booths or a back room (they later put together a couple of makeshift booths with curtains), but basically you would walk in, sit, order a drink and within minutes a 45+ Brazilian or Russian girl would sit next to you and ask for a drink. So you'd buy her a drink, chat it up, tip her a few bucks here and there, maybe she'd offer you a massage, and before too long she would cuddle up next to you and give you a HJ right at the bar. This wasn't me getting lucky or having a connection there, this was the routine with this place. One night I'm chatting with an older Russian who I kinda got to know and she's rubbing my shoulders but someone walked in who was more of a regular for her so she apologized, got up and sat with him on the other end of the bar. There was a younger Brazilian who I'd never seen, maybe 30 (which is the youngest you'd ever see there), a little heavy set but cute. She was wearing a bikini top and jean shorts. I made eye contact with her and pointed to the empty seat next to me and she walked over. I asked if she wanted a drink and she shyly asked if she could do a shot of tequila. I obliged and the bartender poured her a shot. She threw it back like a pro and smiled at me as she sucked on the lemon and immediately asked for another. Within 5 minutes this girl did 4 shots and was loosening up. She cuddled up close to me and started to rub me over my pants. I responded by rubbing her thighs and what happened next blew my mind. She unbuttoned/unzipped her shorts and guided my hand down to her already soaking wet pussy. She told me to finger her and was holding my hand with hers directing me on how she liked it. Once I figured out the rhythm she liked she let go and leaned on me as a finger blasted her. Less than 2 minutes in she grabs my hand, starts bucking violently and I felt a torrent of warm wetness soak my hand and her shorts. She squirted all over herself right there at the bar. She pulled my hand out of her shorts, licked my fingers clean, then stood up and positioned herself between my legs. She unzipped my pants, leaned in a little and gave me a HJ right there at the bar until I came all over her stomach and her wet shorts. She grabbed a few napkins from the bar, wiped her stomach off then pointed at her shorts while laughing and said "I'm keeping these like this". We sat at the bar together for another half hour or so, she gave me a nice massage and then I left. Never saw her again. Fucking tequila, brings out the best in some lol.

Another time I found a girl in Backpage (back when it was around) hosting at a fleabag hotel in Secaucus. I wisely parked down the street and did the creeper walk to her door. She was very petite and had a nice tight body but she was a weirdo, probably high on something. She just babbled the entire time I was there. I just wanted to blow and go, which is what I did. I literally walked out on her as she was mid-sentence babbling about God knows what. That's not the crazy part... This is. A few weeks later she texted me asking if I wanted to see her, which I politely declined saying I wasn't crazy about the hotel she was in. She told me she was at her apartment in union City and I could see her there so against my better judgement I agreed. She buzzed me into the main door of her building and met me at the door of her first floor apartment. The babbling picked up right where it left off the last time so I guided her head to my cock to shut her up. She did a good job on her knees for a bit but said she wanted to lay on the bed and have me FF her, no problem for me, anything to keep her quiet. She laid on the bed and I straddled her face, pumping away at her mouth, occasionally popping out to slap her face with my cock and have her lick my balls. When I got close I pulled out of her mouth to have her jerk me into her face. Literally as I was about to cum we heard the main building door creak open and she says "OMG that's my boyfriend" as I'm cumming on her face. She pushes me off of her as I'm still cumming, splattering her body and the sheets and she tells me to go into the bathroom. I'm buck naked, cum dripping from my still throbbing helmet, and having a full blown panic attack that I'm about to be beaten to death by this looney tune's boyfriend. I stand in her bathroom frozen in panic for maybe a minute before she opens the door saying nevermind that wasn't him. I dressed faster than Clark Kent in a phone booth and ran out of there without saying another word.

I know this getting long but I have one more. This happened in the city. I was at a Chinatown spot with the standard rooms with walls that don't go to the ceiling and curtains for doors. So you basically hear every evil sex noise coming from the other rooms. As I walk in I can hear a girl getting railed in one of the rooms. My girl leads me to an empty room and I strip, lay face down and she starts a massage, all while listening to the girl 3 feet away in the next room getting pounded. Less than 3 minutes in I hear a loud slap and the girl started frantically yelling at the guy in Chinese (I'm guessing it was Chinese) and he was talking back to her also in Chinese. The mama stomps her way past my room into theirs and also starts screaming at the guy at the top her lungs. All the while my massage girl is just doing her thing like it's another day at the office. I have no idea what happened but if I had to guess the guy got too rough with her and slapped her ass too hard, or maybe she slapped him in the face, who knows. It finally calmed down and my girl just went on with the massage, then a ST and a bbbj like nothing happened. Haven't been back there since and I'm pretty sure the place is gone now anyway.

I have more stories but I'm sure the war&peace I just shared here is enough for now lol. Happy mongering all

 

[CameraShy93]

Most of my crazy experiences happened in NJ. I have a few I can share here, not in any particular order.

There was a hole in the wall go go in Paterson I used to visit. It was in an industrial area and I would hit it after work so I never really worried about anyone messing with my car or with me. At the time they didn't have any lap dance booths or a back room (they later put together a couple of makeshift booths with curtains), but basically you would walk in, sit, order a drink and within minutes a 45+ Brazilian or Russian girl would sit next to you and ask for a drink. So you'd buy her a drink, chat it up, tip her a few bucks here and there, maybe she'd offer you a massage, and before too long she would cuddle up next to you and give you a HJ right at the bar. This wasn't me getting lucky or having a connection there, this was the routine with this place. One night I'm chatting with an older Russian who I kinda got to know and she's rubbing my shoulders but someone walked in who was more of a regular for her so she apologized, got up and sat with him on the other end of the bar. There was a younger Brazilian who I'd never seen, maybe 30 (which is the youngest you'd ever see there), a little heavy set but cute. She was wearing a bikini top and jean shorts. I made eye contact with her and pointed to the empty seat next to me and she walked over. I asked if she wanted a drink and she shyly asked if she could do a shot of tequila. I obliged and the bartender poured her a shot. She threw it back like a pro and smiled at me as she sucked on the lemon and immediately asked for another. Within 5 minutes this girl did 4 shots and was loosening up. She cuddled up close to me and started to rub me over my pants. I responded by rubbing her thighs and what happened next blew my mind. She unbuttoned/unzipped her shorts and guided my hand down to her already soaking wet pussy. She told me to finger her and was holding my hand with hers directing me on how she liked it. Once I figured out the rhythm she liked she let go and leaned on me as a finger blasted her. Less than 2 minutes in she grabs my hand, starts bucking violently and I felt a torrent of warm wetness soak my hand and her shorts. She squirted all over herself right there at the bar. She pulled my hand out of her shorts, licked my fingers clean, then stood up and positioned herself between my legs. She unzipped my pants, leaned in a little and gave me a HJ right there at the bar until I came all over her stomach and her wet shorts. She grabbed a few napkins from the bar, wiped her stomach off then pointed at her shorts while laughing and said "I'm keeping these like this". We sat at the bar together for another half hour or so, she gave me a nice massage and then I left. Never saw her again. Fucking tequila, brings out the best in some lol.

Another time I found a girl in Backpage (back when it was around) hosting at a fleabag hotel in Secaucus. I wisely parked down the street and did the creeper walk to her door. She was very petite and had a nice tight body but she was a weirdo, probably high on something. She just babbled the entire time I was there. I just wanted to blow and go, which is what I did. I literally walked out on her as she was mid-sentence babbling about God knows what. That's not the crazy part... This is. A few weeks later she texted me asking if I wanted to see her, which I politely declined saying I wasn't crazy about the hotel she was in. She told me she was at her apartment in union City and I could see her there so against my better judgement I agreed. She buzzed me into the main door of her building and met me at the door of her first floor apartment. The babbling picked up right where it left off the last time so I guided her head to my cock to shut her up. She did a good job on her knees for a bit but said she wanted to lay on the bed and have me FF her, no problem for me, anything to keep her quiet. She laid on the bed and I straddled her face, pumping away at her mouth, occasionally popping out to slap her face with my cock and have her lick my balls. When I got close I pulled out of her mouth to have her jerk me into her face. Literally as I was about to cum we heard the main building door creak open and she says "OMG that's my boyfriend" as I'm cumming on her face. She pushes me off of her as I'm still cumming, splattering her body and the sheets and she tells me to go into the bathroom. I'm buck naked, cum dripping from my still throbbing helmet, and having a full blown panic attack that I'm about to be beaten to death by this looney tune's boyfriend. I stand in her bathroom frozen in panic for maybe a minute before she opens the door saying nevermind that wasn't him. I dressed faster than Clark Kent in a phone booth and ran out of there without saying another word.

I know this getting long but I have one more. This happened in the city. I was at a Chinatown spot with the standard rooms with walls that don't go to the ceiling and curtains for doors. So you basically hear every evil sex noise coming from the other rooms. As I walk in I can hear a girl getting railed in one of the rooms. My girl leads me to an empty room and I strip, lay face down and she starts a massage, all while listening to the girl 3 feet away in the next room getting pounded. Less than 3 minutes in I hear a loud slap and the girl started frantically yelling at the guy in Chinese (I'm guessing it was Chinese) and he was talking back to her also in Chinese. The mama stomps her way past my room into theirs and also starts screaming at the guy at the top her lungs. All the while my massage girl is just doing her thing like it's another day at the office. I have no idea what happened but if I had to guess the guy got too rough with her and slapped her ass too hard, or maybe she slapped him in the face, who knows. It finally calmed down and my girl just went on with the massage, then a ST and a bbbj like nothing happened. Haven't been back there since and I'm pretty sure the place is gone now anyway.

I have more stories but I'm sure the war&peace I just shared here is enough for now lol. Happy mongering all

This guy's had enough experiences to fill about a dozen lifetimes! I applaud you good sir!

Btw, what are the names of these places? Asking for a friend. Lol