Alright...in spite of the title, this post is probably not what many readers may think it's about. Or maybe they do.
Anyway, this is about treating working girls as the ladies that some of them really are (or at least, who behave like that sometimes). Okay, I'm not kidding. I'm not being facetious or cynical or condescending or sarcastic. I believe in treating these women well, whether or not they are hookers or prostitutes or whatever people may chose to call them.
And sometimes you get returns on it. No, not that kind of returns, people...get your minds out of the gutter!
Case in point. A Thursday night, Kish's last night in town. Bud, Kish and I had a few drinks in a few places, nothing too exciting, and eventually ended up at the Sheraton's bar/club. The two guys had arranged something; a whole bevy of girls - sorry- ladies showed up. who were to be joined by a couple more later on. They turned out to be from a new-and-upcoming massage parlour that I'd never visited before. I hadn't seen any of the girls before, but recognised one of the 'mamasan'-managers. Let's just say that I was -ahem- aquainted with her once (and only once) when she used to work in another parlour. Now she's in partnership with a few others owning their own parlour. She didn't recognise me, which was just as well. But no matter.
After a round of drinks the girls began opening up and everyone got more relaxed. They had all just finished work at the parlour. Bud, apparently, had had gone for a round with nearly all of them (he's da man!), while I had never even set foot in their massage parlour yet. Neither had Kish. But whatever our personal status with these women, all ideas or thoughts of a client/customer relationship were forgotten as the night progressed, the band seemed to get better and better, the drinks flowed freely...and I went around stealing french fries...we three guys were enjoying the company of these lovely ladies (and the envious looks of the other working girls nearby), and our girls got more and more relaxed, some of them dancing.
And then a couple of them dragged me to the dance floor. I went with them, of course. Who was I to reject or disagree? Hah. And it was good for a while, before I pleaded tiredness (true).
As closing time crept up on us, we started to leave, a couple of the girls first, then the rest of us. Kish paid for all our food and drinks. It wasn't exactly the end of the night for the boys, but it was most of it. I actually just sat around most of the time nursing my beers, with some conversation with all of the girls - sorry - ladies, and a bit of wiggling my arse on the dance floor. And they managed to let their hair down, it was obvious (and good) to see. We all kissed each other on the cheeks goodnight, and they asked (okay, especially the mamasan) me to come visit them sometime - at their massage parlour.
Other than that, there were no expectations that night, neither from my side nor theirs. But there were definitely different dynamics at work then, because the ladies weren't 'working'. They were there just to chill out after work, and have a good time, and basically have fun on their terms. It was good to see that. And it was also good to know that I somehow, in a very small way, helped them do precisely that.
Alright...in spite of the title, this post is probably not what many readers may think it's about. Or maybe they do.
A recent Friday night, and I was in the mood to prowl the clubs. I felt I deserved it, working all day and looking to let off some steam. After making arrangements with my buddy from the last few times (henceforth referred to as 'Bud'), I waited and did some other things to occupy my time as the hours and minutes ticked by.
Bud, another friend called Kish, and I met up in the Sheraton Hotel club first. Known for being a meat market, the last thing we expected was a cover charge. Even if it was a Friday. We were a bit annoyed because they never had a cover charge before, and apparently it was a new practice. The clincher was, the place looked dead. To be fair, it was a little after 10pm. But it only took a couple of minutes (and maybe not even that) to decide to go to the Grand Hyatt Hotel club.
That's one thing I like about these guys. Collectively we may not be decisive all the time, but in the things that matter (heh heh), we're pretty sorted.
We reached the other club, advertised cheekily in an entertainement guide-magazine as one of the traditional 'meet' markets (of course the pun was intended). It was good that we went. We were prepared to pay the cover charge, but a couple of the front-of-house staff ushered us in for free. Our initial puzzlement gradually turned to understanding later; there was some company function inside, and the staff thought that we were part of the group. Excellent.
We hung around standing for a while before getting drinks. This was a hotel club, like the first one, where the working girls were generally better dressed than in other bars. And they were around. The dance floor was rockin'. (Oh by the way, this was the same club in which I saw those Japanese women, one of whom I was attracted to - the possible flight attendants who I'd mentioned in this post.) But in any case, the dance floor was only half of the story. It was quite crowded, even for a Friday night, and there were as many men and 'regular' women (as in, non-working girls) as there were working gals. It would be a challenge sorting them out, but not by much.
As it was, three older-looking women were standing by a pillar, and as I walked past one, we caught each other's eye; she was clearly interested. She wasn't too bad looking and although wasn't exactly a gorgeous model-type, slim and reasonably attractive. But I'd just got my drink and I was following my mates to another part of the club to reposition ourselves. Besides, the night was still young and so it was early days yet. I gave her a quick and (what I hoped was a) warm smile, and walked on. It was then that things started really getting interesting.
We managed to grab a table in our new corner and proceeded to check out the girls. Bud and I were definitely hunting tonight. Kish was taking it easy and was more relaxed because he was happy just to check out the scene; he had an early-ish breakfast appointment the next morning, and wanted to have a good night's sleep uninterrupted by any carnal nocturnal activities.
Bud made his moves and even ran into a couple of aquaintances, who were freelancers working around a regular circuit of clubs. I sat nursing my drinks and was trying to decide whether to talk to a 20-something sweet young thing (but no discernible tits that I could see) on the opposite end of the bar, or this older MILF-looking specimen sipping red wine at my side of the bar, not 2 feet in front of me. The fact that a) she had an impressive frontage in spite of being slightly plump, and b) her knickers were visibly peeking out of her pants from my position, looking at her from behind, made my mind up.
So I mentally, silently bid adieu to the sweet young thing - who had been exchanging curious but pleasant and interesting glances with me - and stepped out from my seat and ordered another drink. Right next to MILF-looker. Then i said "Hi, how are you?", and offered to get her a drink. What followed was at least a good hour of small talk and haggling. I had to give her credit for coming straight to the point after a while, and for giving me an inflated initial quote for her price. I was't impressed with the latter, but we did have some sort of rapport and I guessed that she was interested in taking the fee I suggested. At some point we even made it to the dance floor together. I was keen on her, definitely. But the vibes she was giving off weren't that clear, especially to my alcohol-addled mind.
Before I knew it, the night was almost gone. Kish left early, and Bud was having trouble finding the right chick to take home. In the end, he went with two girls (turned out to only go for supper; no right girl, no matter) while my MILF-looker took me to her car in the hotel basement.
Before this gets too complicated, this was her story (briefly): In the car (it was nice and big, but I forgot what make or model exactly) we spoke more, and I found out that she was in her late 30s, was indeed a mom (MILF - I was right!), and was doing this after the business she used to run had gone bust. She was now involved in doing some oter business with a couple of family members, but that was not bringing in enough cash for her. She also wanted to sustain her current lifestyle, including keeping her car. I also suspected that she had some debts to pay off. So she tried to solve her problems by hanging out at hotel clubs and offering herself as a relatively higher-class pick-up escort.
I had a nice time with her that night. Later I described it to Bud as "way, way better than average compared to most of the other working girls I've had". Talking to her gained me another insight into the way many people think and behave in this country, and having sex with her - well, the expression 'older women are like fine wine' really applied that night.
I didn't know what to expect when I knocked on her door. I guess neither did she. But she sounded nice over the phone; sexy with just a touch of huskiness. And very polite too. I asked her the basic questions, and very soon I was sold (or rather, she was, depending on your point of view).
Ending up on her doorstep, I rang the bell and waited. Amanda (aka Mandy) opened it. She was wearing a tight-fitting long-sleeved blouse and figure-hugging black pants. She smiled when she saw me, and I smiled back, not only to be friendly, but also because she was just what she described herself to me: a very attractive, long-haired redhead. A voluptuous body. Nice tits.
I followed her up the flight of stairs that led directly from the door to the lounge, and from there another flight leading to the bedrooms and bathroom. It was a cosy apartment. Mandy showed me the bedroom that we would use, and asked that I place her fee on the bedside table, which I promptly did. Then I was directed to the bathroom, alone, to take a shower.
(I like the before-bedroom-action shower routine. I can't understand why some guys who pay for hookers or escorts refuse or don't shower before having sex with them. I mean, you'd think clients would like to get themselves cleaned up before bonking these women who sleep with a whole bunch of men for a living or half a living. This is of course with the understanding that the girls keep themselves washed and freshened up too. When both parties do it, the stage is usually set for an enjoyable experience, at least from a hygiene point of view.)
After a warm shower, I came out with a towel wrapped around my waist and feeling good about myself; I was looking forward to shagging a good-looking woman I'd never been with before, or indeed, never even seen before this day. Such is the joy of seeing paid companions. And imagine my mild but discernible joy when I walked toward the bedroom, the door not fully opened but well enough to reveal Mandy standing by the bed, dressed in a black teddy and waiting for me (it's also standard procedure, I believe, for some girls to get showered up before their clients arrive, so I had no worries).
Mandy was smiling and as I went near her, she was also smelling very nice. In one deft motion and in no time at all, she slipped her teddy off and led me to the bed. She was fully shaven, so I couldn't tell if she was a natural redhead or not. Actually I honestly did not care at that point, but I remembered how smooth and soft her skin was. She really took care of it well. And she was a nicely-voluptuous female specimen of the human race. Not skinny at all, and fleshy in all the right places without even being plump, and slightly shorter than me. She was also bigger-boned, and so bigger-sized than me, but I didn't find that a problem. If truth be told, I recalled being turned on by it, and anticipating my 'climbing' all over and exploring her like an eager boy scout.
We made small talk, and I found out that she was around my age. Before long, we proceeded to business.
It was an enjoyable business. I took my time enjoying her and her body, filling my senses with the touch and fragrance of her cheeks, earlobes, neck, breasts, nipples, abdomen, buttocks and vagina. She gave me a fairly decent covered BJ, but not to conclusion. Finally I tried a position - not BDSM or anything remotely kinky - I'd never tried before with anybody, and Mandy seemed to like it a lot. I was still in her, slowly winding down, when she told me, "You'll make some women very happy, you know that?", after she recovered enough to get some air to speak. Why, thanks Mandy...really appreciate the vote of confidence! It was the first time an escort had told me such a thing, and I don't know if she was telling me the truth of how she felt, but it was strangely, pleasantly uplifting.
It would be remiss of me if I didn't mention that Mandy had a flexi-hour day job that was very different from escorting, was a voracious book reader, and rather intelligent (I know this may sound condescending to some people, but this is both a factual observation and a compliment to Mandy). Over the course of time I would find out a bit more about her.
And as it would turn out, although I didn't see her exclusively or frequently, Mandy would become my favourite working gal during that period of time, giving me some much-needed warmth in that windy and chilly Australasian city.
In my previous post I mentioned that there are (or were) some types of women I don't go for. Well, this is not about one of those.
I have a confession to make. I don't go for women of a certain East Asian nationality, for a complex mix of reasons. Sure, sometimes I do ogle at them on the street or on the silver screen, or look at porn with those women in them; but I have never dated, slept with, or indeed even communicated properly with any of them. I can count female aquaintances from this nationality on just maybe three fingers. Now that is pathetic, some of you may say.
I think the main problems are language and exposure. I don't speak their language, and vice versa, and I'm not in a place where I am able to get in contact with them. Hardly, in fact. So it was a pleasant surprise when I went to this hotel bar with my buddy - the guy I was with the last time when I picked up the sexy Russian-Israeli MILF - and I saw something that has led me to sort of reconsider my position on them.
The hotel club/bar is a pick-up joint (as in for prostitutes; freelancers, in this case), but not as hard-core as some other places in the city - actually it's quite expensive and classy, which usually means that even the working girls who come here can afford the drinks prices and the weekend cover charge. And the women charge their clients accordingly. But I suppose there are also opportunities for getting freebies - women who are out for sex and one-night stands with no strings attached, and who may or not be prostitutes on their 'own' time. During that night there seemed to be a fair number of female hotel guests (and an equal number of working girls, I should add).
It was there that I saw these two women on the dance floor. They were with a couple of male friends, and they were enjoying themselves. I thought they were Japanese and pointed them out to my buddy. He seemed to agree with me tentatively, but his attention was generally focused elsewhere. I also initially half-suspected they were Korean, but their dressing and facial features led me to stick with my first instincts. Certainly not Mongolian or Chinese. And they were dressed decently and sexily at the same time. No working girls these. At least not in that sense.
I thought they were either flight attendants or some sort of executives in the country for a conference. I couldn't work up the courage to approach them. I guess it was due to the fear of rejection, especially since it wasn't exactly crowded enough, being a weekday, or dark enough! But they were nice to look at, especially the taller one. She was no great beauty, but had an attractive face and a nice combination of shortish hair, legs and frontage. I guess I liked her because she didn't look like a typical Japanese. In fact, if I had a fantasy involving doing the dirty with a woman of mixed Chinese-Japanese-Korean-Mongolian heritage, she would be it. Otherwise a bit of intelligent conversation over a nice cup of coffee with her would suffice :).
I came away that night strangely content.
So sometimes women surprise me in unexpected ways, especially those whom I never expect to. And if anyone has been paying attention, they would know what nationality I've been referring to all this while.