Part 1

Montreal is one of those places that you have to be careful. There are numerous outlets for fun, but $200 gets you an hour vs a night in Rio or a weekend in Bangkok. I generally save up for trips, but I decided one night that enough was enough.

I checked out the various review sites to find out which girls were worth pursuing. I was very tempted by the younger escorts as the nailing a babe half my age has appeal, but decided on a waif in her late twenties.

I booked this girl for an early evening rendezvous. She appeared at my door not long after 7pm. She was quite cute, small and super slim. She wore regular street clothes and looked good in them. She eagerly accepted my drink offer and we sat on the couch for an introductory chat.

I took an immediate liking to her. She introduced herself with her real name; something I always appreciate. The conversation was lively and quickly turned to sex. At that point, it was time to move to the bedroom.

Cindy knelt on the bed and started pulling off her clothes. While still in her undies, I pulled her toward the end of the bed and directed her to my pants. They were quickly around my knees and she was very busy working her mouth on my dick. "Good girl!"

I took the liberty of removing her bra and easing her panties off. She came up for breath and we had another sip of our drinks. I removed the rest of my clothes and laid her back on the bed. Time to return the favor.

Cindy was clean-shaven and clean as a whistle. I licked away at her, quite merrily, while tweaking her nipples. She gave me encouragement and I continued my work, sliding my hands beneath her tiny ass. Look, if a girl is fresh, I'll lick her ass. Cindy was very fresh ... and very appreciative. She encouraged me to continue so I rolled her on to her back and applied long licks. "You're going to have to give me more liquor if you want to fuck my ass" she said in her Quebecois accent.

I bolted from the room, grabbed the bottle and dashed back to slosh some more precious fluid into her glass before handing it to her. I toasted her and buried my face between her cheeks once more.

There are girls in Montreal who do anal, but not many. At least they don't often advertise the fact. Here was one offering herself so readily that I could hardly resist, no?

She said she was ready but wanted me to enter her missionary with her legs up. I agreed, but decided to get warmed up in her pussy, first. Lots of pounding got us in the mood quickly. We enjoyed that for a while then I positioned myself to move down one hole. I was too soft!

To properly ass-fuck a girl, you have to have a serious hard-on. Half-way measures will not do, I've tried. I was only semi-rigid, the victim of high blood pressure, excess weight and a workout routine that consisted of waking to and from the car. The Cialis I took earlier was not helping (or helping enough). Cindy didn't care, though, she was having a great time as I was still able to enter her pussy.

At one point I pulled her to the edge of the bed and she wrapped her legs around me. I picked her up with easy and fucked her standing up for a while. That's not something I do anymore, I'm just not in shape. However, she was small enough that the effort was minimal.

I got back on the bed and pulled her up on top with my legs folder under me. She rode me for a while and took a few minutes rest. She told me more about herself and the sort of "real" work she did. I had her go down on me again and pulled her up to a sixty nine.

As I was busy licking her clit, she stretched down and started licking my ass. Yowza! Fellas, if you've never had a babe lick your ass, you haven't lived. Find one.

We stopped again and talked some more after that. She told me she was glad I called on her because she was going to leave the agency and go freelance really soon; like the following week or so. I told her she could count on my business.

Cindy did not work every day. I asked her if she had plans for that Friday. No, she didn't. Would she like to visit me? Sure! She asked me if I liked to cook or if she should. She then said she had some really good pasta sauce she could make and said she'd do the cooking. It was settled! Hot damn.

We carried on some more before resting again. She told me about a great hotel she knew on the other side of the border and suggested we should go some time. Great! It wasn't like she was selling something, she was just stream of consciousness and brainstorming ideas. I was having a terrific time with her and definitely wanted to spend time with her because she was damn interesting.

We were approaching the one-hour cut-off time and I'd still not gotten hard enough for some good ol' rumpy-pumpy. "Do you want a half-hour more?" she asked. Was she up-selling? I asked how much, thinking she'd probably prefer if I gave her all that money on Friday instead of just a portion of it (as some goes to the agency). She said it was about a hundred bucks. "But I'll pay half" she added.

Huh? OK, this is a new one for me. She wanted to spend a half hour extra with me and was willing to forgo a major cut. What the hell, I did the extra half hour. She called to extend her time and we got back to business.

On the next rest break, she told me she was an amateur singing. I demanded proof. She then let rip a few bars of a torch song. Damn, she was a really good singer! Not long after that, fooling around, she said she could do the splits and proceeded to do so astride my dick. Niiiiice.

She had complimented me on my choice of music I set up and told me about spending some months in Ibiza (my music was typical of that played there). This girl was a traveler.

I time was up and we got her out the door after being silly in front of the mirror. I had hoisted her small frame high into the air a few times, testing her weight.

Friday could not come soon enough!

Nice story. Montreal is not cheap by any means, especially with the current dollar , But then again, you can't always jump on a plane for 8-18 hours. For those of us in the Northeast US it is do-able.

I have had a few very special encounters with $160-$200 girls delivered to my hotel room door.

One in particular was a 19 year old from Grenada who totally rocked my world and ignored several calls from her driver waiting to pick her up.

Then there was the 20 year old former gymnast.... oof, I better stop, this is starting to sound like a Penthouse Forum letter. Sorry to say both have since disappeared from the agency ads.

If anyone plans a trip to Montreal, read the MERB forum ( www.merb.ca ) which has reviews as well as agency ads, most of which are very reputable.

Expect to pay at least US $150 per night for a decent downtown hotel plus taxes and another $25 to park a car if you drive in.

These days in Montreal i go to a place that have a 60$ service for 15 Minutes, and 90 bucks for 30 Minutes, they have decent ladies, its in-house, they are into apartments. Number: 514-727-2195.
Zen.

Part 2

After Cindy departed, I was left with a warm feeling and practically walking on air as I looked forward to Friday. We had talked about doing some photos; not the cheesy glamor shots that I kinda wanted to do, but classy stuff. She had suggested donning a gown and walking along a trail on Mount Royal park. Keep in mind that it's really cold in October. That night I sent her an e-mail with some samples of my better portrait photography and suggestions on what pictures might work well for her. I also wrote how much I was looking forward to trying her spaghetti sauce that Friday.

The next day, I reviewed the night's activity and conversations. No doubt about it, this girl was a keeper. Being practical, I recognized that the age difference would make a real relationship impossible, but that didn't stop me from fantasizing just a bit. I was determined, in any case, to make the most of the situation. If I could get an extended girlfriend/pornstar experience on every visit, I'd be satisfied. (Of course, my fantasy was to marry the girl, but never mind that).

I knew Cindy lived somewhere on the other side of the bridge and was without a car. Not needing one, I was also car-free. I was scheduled to leave Montreal on Sunday morning. I could get a ride to the airport, pick up a car at a discount and drop it off on my departure. It would save the cost of the taxi at the expense of a rental car and gas. However, I could pick up Cindy from her home and drop her off again. That would make it easy. We'd also be able to get to Mount Royal this way. I booked the car for that Friday.

I had plenty of work to do, but my mind kept straying to Cindy and what we'd do on Friday. That afternoon, I called her phone. I got a recording that the service was out. I remembered she had said something about losing or forgetting her phone. Perhaps she had turned it off when she went to work. Later, I checked her agency web site to see if she was listed. She was, but she was not scheduled to work that night. I doubted that she had decided to quit already.

By the next day, I had not received an e-mail from her. In my mind, I replayed the events of our brief time together. She was so easy-going, so willing, so suggestive. She was also drinking. She assured me that she could handle her liquor. Such a tiny thing, I expressed doubt, but she practically challenged me to a drinking match. She certainly didn't act drunk that night. I decided her reactions and responses were not that of a drunk chick.

Friday arrived. I threw caution to the wind and picked up the car. I further justified the acquisition by the fact that I had a bit of a date on Saturday morning. I had corresponded with a girl who had recently moved to the city and she had earlier accepted an invitation to brunch on the weekend. I was quite prepared to cancel if I should end up eating Cindy the following morning.

Cindy's phone was still out and I did not get a reply to my e-mail. Could something have happened? Had I misread her e-mail address? Had she lost my card with my number and was now frantically trying to reach me?

I checked the agency's web site. She was not scheduled to work that night. Should I be relieved or not? Should I call them? What would I say? "Hi, I've got a date with Cindy, can you tell me how to reach her?" Naw.

I dragged my tortured soul through the afternoon and into the early evening, praying the phone would ring, anxiously checking my e-mail every three minutes. I held up hope well into the evening, thinking that dinner time for Montreal girl might be as late as 9PM.

Was Cindy on drugs when we met? Was she on some sort of stimulant that gave her boisterous energy, dropped her inhibitions and opened her to suggestion? Her eyes were in great shape, I stared into them often enough. She had no needle marks. What sort of drug makes someone behave that way ... and, more importantly, how can I get my hands on some?

I did not sleep well that night. In the morning, I contacted my date and arranged to pick her up. Perhaps she would be the balm to sooth my wretched soul. I drove to Lee's place and parked. She met me at the door, dressed in a form fitting dress with one shoulder bare and knee-length leather boots. She was dressed to "out," not just out to breakfast. I had seen photos of her already and could not determine if she was hot or not. Looking at her, I still wasn't sure. Was she a "six" dressed up as a "nine"?

We chatted on the ride to the breakfast spot, a place few tourists would ever discover. My original intention with this girl was to photograph her. She is a musical performer and needed pictures, I was a photographer and needed a model to practice lighting. She was the one who hinted at a pre-shoot meeting "to get to know one another." The implication was clear.

Lee is a graduate student, so I had some empathy for her situation and suspected we'd get along welll. She proved to be quite engaging at first, but she was flighty. The conversation would bounce from topic to topic and I never seemed able to get a grasp on what it was we were talking about. Of course I was totally comparing her to Cindy and how beautifully our conversation flowed.

As we left, I tested the water with Lee. I told her I was sorry she was full from breakfast because I wanted to show her how bagels are made in Montreal. She eagerly accepted my invitation. Interesting.

We drove to the bagel place in the Hasidic area and looked for a place to park. She suggested she stay in the car while I run in and get bagels. "Well, the idea is to show you how they make them. It's really cool." Moments later, she decided that she wanted to go home so she could get some stuff done.

And that was the end of Lee.

But not the end of this tale.

wombat , sorry she didn't show , but i go by this ............if its too good to be true .......well we all know the rest.

look forward to hearing more of your story.

Dude, Too bad you could not open the back door, Viagra generally produces harder wood than Cialis. It is hard to believe that somebody with your resume is still falling in love with hookers.

(Message edited by Hot4ass2 on November 13, 2010)

"t is hard to believe that somebody with your resume is still falling in love with hookers."

I am glad you are still falling in love with hookers!

I seem to fall in love everytime I monger. It is one of my favorite parts of mongering... and, it is love for short little window it lasts!

Yes we all would like to feel like a good looking woman is into us. It's human nature.

Just remember at the end of the day, she is still a Whore and we are the chumps with the money.

I guess you could call that a perfect match.

I'm fully aware of the fact that I torture myself this way, but it's the sweetest knife ever thrust into the heart. The thing with Cindy is that she was an engaging person who liked doing something that I liked doing. Take away the sex part, and I'd still be smitten by her. I've had some (otherwise) terrific real girlfriends who were apathetic about sex. Here I had my hands on a firecracker and was not about to let go.

I've since learned that Viagra is certainly better, but if I don't get my health under control, I may have to retire from this hobby ... at which point I have to ask "What more?"

Wombat88 I must say this report is a great personal detail report.

One of my all time CH reports though is the one where you traveled throughout SE asia. The 5 month tour. That was legendary.

Why doesn't Hombre have trip awards anymore?

Part 3: Taking the Cure

There were, of course, no messages from Cindy by the time I left on Sunday morning. I had plenty of things to keep me busy at work, but took time to send her an e-mail; a couple of paragraphs about where I was and what I was doing. I sent another one the following week, mentioning I would be back in Montreal the week after. I noted that she was still showing up on the agency schedule, so I knew she was alive, if not kicking.

Back in Montreal, I was feeling a need. It was time to call the agency and book her and see what was up. Of course she was not working the week I was there. The booking agent suspected it was her time of the week. However, he just had a girl show up who was not scheduled to work. Amelie was a superstar with lots of reviews. There was no photo, but she didn't need one, he assured me. I told him I was really happy with Cindy and would wait.

On Tuesday morning, I blinked when I checked my e-mail. A message from Cindy. It was short. She was sorry she didn't call me, she lost her phone (and presumably all other phones on the South Shore were out of order, too, I suppose). She was picking up a new phone that weekend and I should call her when I returned to Montreal and she would make good food "and maybe nice sexxx." I replied an hour after she sent her message, explaining that I was already in Montreal and would like to get together with her. I also noted that she has accepted my Facebook friend acceptance. That enabled me to learn a little more about her, but no real clues as to her motivations, ect.

I went about my work and deliberately avoided checking my e-mail except for once every few minutes. No, it was not quite that bad. She had plenty of opportunity to reach me, but did not. Too bad for me.

But maybe she would call.

I checked the agency site. She was not working. I had a couple of more days before leaving again and checked the site every afternoon in case she showed up. Nuthin.

What's the best thing to do when hung up on a girl? Find another girl. I scowered the local review boards, looking for a porn star performer. There were lots of possibilities, but my heart was set on another waif, of which there were very few. I decided to call Cindy's agency. The dispatcher assured me she was not on that evening. Amelie was.

The dispatcher gave her another glowing review. She was in her late twenties and was in good shape. I pointed out the lack of photo, again. "It just so happens that I'm a photographer." I suggested that I could do a shoot for her if she needed it. He would discuss it with her. I threw caution to the wind and booked her for 7 that evening. That gave me a few hours to finish my work and pack before entertaining the lady in question.

At half past seven, the phone rang. The driver was apologetic for being late, but right around the corner. Moments later, the bell rang and I ushered in Amelie. She had an attractive narrow face and long beautiful brown hair. She wore tight white pants and a top that did much justice to her bosom.

I took her coat and offered her a brandy, the only libation I had. She gladly accepted. I helped her plug in her phone thing to recharge.

We sat on the couch for a quick chat. She was easy-going and although her English was poor, she was able to communicate quite well. She was also doing all the right things with her hands and body language. Nice.

I have no idea how the topic came up, but she answered "Oh, I love porn movies." She then admitted she made a porn movie. H e l l o ! When she was twenty, she made a girl-girl film while traveling in Europe. Apparently it was for Rocco Siffredi. For a moment I thought that she had fucked him, but no. That would be odd, wouldn't it? If I fucked the girl that Rocco fucked, it would be sort of like two degrees of separation from all the fine babes that bastard had fucked. It would be like if I fucked Vanessa Chase, only twice removed. Anyway, it was Amelie's only porn star experience. At least I knew she was bi.

She then admitted that she was open to anything. Oooooh yeah. "Well, it's time to get to know you, then, I think." The plan was to lead her into the bedroom, but the next thing I know, she was standing up in front of me with her pants at her knees and my face rubbing against her smooth round ass. Seriously, I must have blacked out. I snapped out of it and guided her to my bed. She sat down and admired my bed covering. She said she wanted a photo of her on my bed. My bed has a fur blanket.

I helped her out of her pants and then her top. Her pink underwear matched and looked amazing. I give full credit to babes who appreciate fine lingerie. I pulled her to me and undid my pants. She wasted no time seeing to my little Wombat. Disappointed with the Cialis, I took a 100mg of Viagra almost two hours earlier. I panicked just before Amelie arrived and took an extra 50mg. After my previous experience, I would have swallowed cement mix if I thought it would do the job. The little fucker jumped to attention and Amelie started chowing down on him.

I removed the rest of my clothes while Amelie was busy, then removed her top. She had a terrific body. Although not sport-fit, she was healthy fit with small but proper breasts, a beautiful round ass and magnificent legs. I put her on her back, removed her panties and prepared to dive.

I have a pretty set routine for going down on a girl. I try to tease her as long as I can, which isn't very long, before going full on clit licking. A former lover recently told me that my technique was basically just OK. So, I need some new tricks. As I thought about this, I was at a loss as to what to do, so I just made it up as I went along. Of course, ass licking was on the menu. Amelie, through all my techniques, was squirming a bit, being vocal and playing with her pink nipples. I usually reach underneath and play with them myself, but I had an idea. She did say she was up for anything.

I paused and looked at her with one eyebrow raised; "Do you like toys?" She gave me a look that said yes. "I have something for you." I had taken the foresight to put a small bag of goodies on the other side of the bed. I reached in and took out a short black chain. On each end were two long, flat metal strips with rubber tips. The idea is to put her nipple between the strips then force them closed with a plastic band that slides up from beneath. This, my friends, is a rather complicated, but effective, set of nipple clamps.

She watched as I carefully put them on her. I was afraid they'd be too tight (they were too damn tight for me when I product tested them). She didn't complain but looked on in wonderment. She had never seen nipple clips like this. Interesting. I retrieved her high heels from the floor and handed them to her to put on. (Why is fucking a girl wearing high heels do damn hot?) I popped on a condom and entered her. Her breasts bounced and the chain holding the clips made entertaining motions on her chest. Amelie, her hair spread around her head, was moaning "Oh, b'bee! Oh, b'bee! Oh, b'bee!"

OK, I love a vocal girl, but she was not being original here. I'd have appreciated more French, but after two dozen repetitions of "Oh baby!" it get's to the point where it sound mechanical rather than sincere.

"You like this toy?" She nodded with a smile. "I have another toy. You want to try it?" She asked me what I had. I reached down and pulled it out of my bag. She looked at it. I put it in her mouth and reached behind her head to connect the straps. She liked it.

I went back to pumping into her and looked at her on her back. She looked fantastic. She started moaning "O-A-E! O-A-E! O-A-E!" You know, there are some things a ball gag just can't change.

Now, I love to snog. For me, a girl who knows how to kiss is worth more than a girl who knows how to suck dick because, let's face it, there's no such thing as a bad blow job. Amelie was not much of a kisser, so I was not really losing much by denying that access point.

So, there she was, a red ball gag in her mouth, attached by two black straps, and a heavy black chain holding clips to her nipples. She looked magnificent. Despite the visual stimulation, I was slowing down and would soon need a rest. Something was tugging at my brain. A neuron was firing its little heart off, doing its best to attract my attention. "What is it boy? What is it?" I could hear that neuron barking, but I knew full well that Timmy hadn't fallen into the well. Something to do with Amelie? She said she wanted a photo of her on my bed.

I looked down at her with a half smile. You want me to take your picture on my bed. I swear to Dog, I actually saw her pupils dilate. She quickly nodded and I ran out to grab my camera. I was smart enough to have it close by (and I never actually do this). I popped the flash on the body and dashed back into my room. She was waiting for me, kneeling in a classic glamor pose. "Oooooh, baaaabeeeeee!" I mumbled.

I took a few shots of her on her knees, then put her on her stomach. It was then the effect of the ball gag became evident, she started to drool. She kept her hand under her chin, trying to catch it all. It was really fun to see how much she did drool. OK, I don't care what you fellow's think, but this was fantastically hot to witness.

I don't recall if we fucked some more at that point. We must have, because I remember having to carefully place my camera on the bed and on the floor more than a few times. At some point, however, it was time to lose the ball gag. "I think it's time for another toy. Do you like the gag?" She nodded. Oh, baby! I took it off her and showed her what I pulled from the bag. It was a rubber bit. Basically, it's the same as the ball gag, but with a black rubber bar instead of a ball and leather straps.

I had her kneel up so I could put it on her. It was high quality gear with a proper leather strap and buckle. As I worked the device, I asked her how many men had been inside her. "T'ree t'ousand. T'ousand is with t'ree zeros?" She estimated that she had at least 3000 different guys fuck her. Outstanding!

I put her on her stomach and did shots of her fantastic ass. Meanwhile, she was drooling heavily onto my pillow. A large dark stain was accumulating. I did some more photos and put the camera aside. As we fucked, she collected the saliva and used it as a lubricant; then, she just let it drip onto her chest where she then rubbed it in. Oh, baby!

She looked beautiful with that bit. I did some more photos and she worked the camera like a model. I wanted this girl to pose for me for some proper photos some day ... and possibly some more very, very improper shots.

At some point I switched her back to the ball gag. I liked the color and thought it very effective. Having her on top of me was the most fun. Watching the saliva drip from her mouth in long strings was a huge turn-on.

It would soon be time to end our little adventure, but first, there was one more thing to do: fuck her beautiful ass.

She was all up for it. I put her on her knees and gave her a few good licks. Reaching into my bag, I grabbed some lube. I applied it liberally to all moving parts. I used a couple of digits to ease passage. She instructed me to hold still so she could back herself against me. Oh, baby! It took a few minutes, but I held rock steady, and rock hard (Dog bless you, Pfizer). When she was ready, I grasped her hips and slowly rocked back and forth. Oh, so wrong and so, soooo right. I love having my dick in a girl's ass.

Once she was comfortable, I went full out. I had to reposition her, laying flat instead of on all fours, and continued. Then, her alarm went off. She had sent a beeper to alert her when 45 minutes past. I had not yet cum and was frantically trying to perform. The alarm kept beeping and I kept pumping and just couldn't make it.

I asked Amelie if she would let me come in her mouth. "No." Huh? That was unexpected. I was too exhausted to do much else. In fact, although the Viagra helped, the little Wombat was unable to complete the task at hand. So, I called it night, pulled out and caught my breath. Amelie wanted to use my shower; I got her set up for a quick rinse. I had sweated all over her back. It was only fair because earlier, she had drooled all over my chest.

Not one to miss an opportunity, I joined her in the show to soap her up while she held her hair out of the way. Ever the gentleman, I toweled her off afterward. Considering how infrequent I get a babe like this in my hands, I wanted to make the most of it.

As she dressed, I asked her if she'd like to come back and have a proper photo session. She was all for it. Excellent

She wanted to show me something on my computer. She called up a web site with photos of a shoot she did earlier that year. She looked terrific and she really knew how to pose. "Yes," I told her, "I can do this for you." And, uh, possibly other things. My imagination was running wild with shoot ideas. I'd pulled out less than half of the goodies from my bag.

I helped her into her jacket and we headed for the door. The money, which had been lying on the stairs this whole time, was practically forgotten. I grabbed it and nonchalantly put it into her purse.

Two kisses and she was off into the night ... and presumably into the arms of more than a few guys that evening.

Now, the answer to the obvious question here is "no." Not having her photos on the agency web site, showing her face or not, is a pretty good indication that she is not wanting any publicity. if I have any hopes of getting this woman back for another "photo session," I am keeping her privates private. However, here is the least identifiable photo, just for the record.

Photo: Amilie

Wombat
here i was already to lecture abo0ut taking more than 100 mg of vit V especially with health problems then continuing reading your adventure with your S&M toys and i'm thinking if i have to die what a way to go out the last thing i see is this beautiful woman drooling and cooing ..i hope i'm so lucky! next time some anal beads?

I grew up on the us/canadian border.About 1 1/2 hours from montreal,50 minutes from downtown ottawa.FOr those of you who have never been to montreal it is unreal.The average girl is a 8 on the street.I love the montreal night life to.Ottawa has the same flare as well.Tons of young girls everywhere and the massage parlors are good as well. I have graduated to Brazil,Philippines and Colombia but can honestly say ,if you dont mind spending the extra cash,Montreal is a very good time.St.Catherine street is where all the action is.Strip clubs out the ears,street girls and tons of pick up places.