Here are the first five years from my forty years of mongering. I'll try to write up each five years as a block, hopefully making it more interesting reading.


January 1966:

Cap Haitian, Haiti
Our ship pulled into port for a weekend of R&R. The corpsman made sure that everyone had at least 3 rubbers before being allowed ashore. "The VD rate is about 120%" he explained. "All the girls have the clap and about 20% have something more besides". I went with a group of 3 shipmates, found a good restaurant/bar/bordello combination - had a good dinner, a couple of drinks and my first ever experience with a working girl. She was a slightly chubby Haitian with great tits and a pretty smile. The whole thing was over in about 10 minutes and cost the equivalent of $4 US. Some of the less adventurous souls rode donkeys up to the fortress on top of the mountain. I preferred riding a two legged "filly".


Port-au-Prince
A few days later we pulled into the capital of Haiti. Ventured off with a different group of shipmates and had one of the waiting taxis take us to a Hooker Ranch just outside of town. Great layout, an outside bar with some tables in an inner semicircle and some barns and other ranch type buildings surrounding that in an outer semi-circle. The girls would circulate, you could pick one out or risk being dragged off by one of the more agressive ones. Off you'd go out to the barns for a role in the hay (if that was your pleasure) or you could use one of the hygenically challenged beds in one of the inner rooms. I opted for the hay with a rather pretty (as I remember her) Haitian for $5 US. More than one
of my mates lost their virginitys at that ranch. I have a clear picture in my mind's eye of a good ole' boy we called "Bear". He lost his "cherry" (probably rather quickly), popped up through a large hole in the roof beating on his chest Tarzan style and his girl reaching up and pulling him back down. Another shipmate who was a mid-western preacher's son we dragged out there, got him slightly drunk and sent him off with one of the ranch princesses. Either he didn't know how to put on his rubber right or it came off. Three days later back on the ship he had a rip-roaring dose of the clap and swore that if that was what you got from pussies he was going to go back to jerking off for the rest of his life.

On the way back to the ship I stopped at a small bar at the end of the pier and laid my eyes on a really cute mullato girl. She had long, thick black braids and was really sexy. I tried to strike up a conversation but she spoke no English or Spanish and I no French or Creole. On a longshot I asked her if she knew any German and got saw a light go on in her face. Her mother had been a maid at the German embassy and this little cutie had lived on the embassy grounds for 6 years. That problem resolved I asked her how much for a little sex and love. She came back with "five dollars American" or one carton of American cigarettes. I only had about $2.50 in my pockets and payday wasn't for a couple of days. I remembered a carton of sea-store Marlboros I had bought for my father that was in my locker. I took off down the pier, made the quick trip below for the butts and was back at the bar in less than ten miutes. She was thrilled. We went around back to the squallid crib where she apparently lived and worked. All I can remember was that it took me a long time to pull the trigger after drinking and fucking out at the ranch all afternoon.

Our Hospital Corpsman (or medic for you army guys) was a bit of a sadist. He set up a viewing room in Sickbay where you could look through the microscope at the VD bacteria he milked out of a bunch of guys' dicks. We held a rather tasteless contest to see who's Gonnococcus was the fastest moving amongst the various samples. The poor preacher's son from Michigan won easily.

After completing our ORI at GITMO we went on to Kingston, Jamaica for a two day, one night R&R stop. That night I hooked up with a multi-racial Asian-African street gal with a killer body, a pretty face and a friendly attitude. She wanted $6 US and I was the only one willing to go above $5. I got a great 30 (or was it 60) minute session with her in her crib. Learned a alot about bareback blowjobs that night. Mostly that I really liked them.

From Kingston we headed south toward Barranquilla, Colombia where I met a gorgeous semi-pro 22 year old widow who had a part-time day job and picked up wealthy guys at the Grand Hotel on weekends. We clicked and I spent her non-working hours over the next 8 days and nights with her for the outrageous sum of $5/day or $40 for the whole time. I was ready to marry this one as she was the most un-puta-like girl you could imagine. The last night together she begged me to not use a condom and make her a baby. (Years later I would learn I had). No bad medical consequences from our unprotected sexual encounter. I got into some trouble when I returned to the ship as I was technically AWOL for 6 of the 8 days. I had provided a great deal of English/Spanish "translation assistance" and "cultural exchange" services to most of the Sr. Officers with their girls and called in some "favors" to get off the hook, much to the chagrin of the legal officer. Fuck him anyway - he was a real asshole and was probably one of fewer than a dozen guys on the ship that didn't get laid in BQA.

Got back to New York and decided on the way to go ahead with my impending marriage to my fiance' instead of heading back to BQA to "rescue" Elena. Boy did I fuck up.

I was transferrred and moved to the Washington DC area about a month before the wedding. On the night of my Bachelor party a bunch of us went down to the 14th st corridor to pick up some hookers for blowjobs. I was fairly wasted and had to ride with someone else. We found a "pod" of fairly young black street walkers up around "P" Street and negotiated a "group rate" of $10 per guy. As I was the guest of honor I got first choice and picked what I thought was the only really good looking one (i.e., only one that wasn't fat). Got my pipes cleaned well for the princely sum of $10 in the back seat of my buddie's sedan. I don't know why but I had to pay for my girl myself at my own party. Oh, well...no biggy.

Within a month after the wedding I found out I had a problem. My new bride didn't do blowjobs. In those days there was a stigma about them that kept a lot of nice girls from doing them. We had fucked a few times before the wedding but oral sex never came up then - after all, she was a good Catholic girl. I could see there was going to be a need for some extra-cirricular activity.

A month later I was sent on a TAD mssion to Boston. While there I learned about their infamous Combat Zone on Washington Street - hooker heaven. Went to the "sixes" a club at #666 Washington Street that had quite a bevy of working girls. Within an hour I was in a booth in the back with a cocktail in one hand and my johnson down some Boston babe's throat. Life was good.

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1967:

This was to be an important year for me - my first son was born and I got into sort of a cycle with my mongering. I had "evening" duty for Uncle Sam one week a month and would drive home around midnight those nights. It was no big deal to make a swing up 14th St when the spirit moved me and find a willing pavement princess to provide some reasonably priced oral services. My log shows five such encounters, all basically carbon copies of each other for the sum of $15 a session. Most of the girls were black or mixed heritage but one was Hispanic. Didn't bother to record their names or much else.

A fellow sailor at my installation was getting married (the fool) and we threw him a Bachelor Party. One of the guys suggested "The Block" up in Baltimore. It was only an hour away and was in its prime as far as quality strip acts and classy hookers. Made the trip a couple of weekend's later and had a great time. The protocol was you would find a girl you liked, go over to the bartender with her and buy a bottle of "Champaigne" (more like Panther Piss) and
head back to one of the curtained off booths with a small couch amd a table.

The night of the party I ended up with a fairly attractive Italian girl who thought she looked
like Gina Lolabridgida and went by the name "Gina". Had a good time and had the choice of
either a half and half or a bbbjtc. Went for the bbbj and she did the deed with gusto.

I would make the trip up there two more times that year. Each time to a different club and with
a different girl. Had a half and half session with a pretty brunette named Joanie around the time my kid was born - remember guys used to be cut off from 4 weeks before till 6 weeks after. I
really blew a big load that night - I can still remember worrying that I had blown out the condom.

Another bachelor party had me partying with a Hispanic girl named Lily. Can't remember where
she was from but she made frequent signs of the cross while shlurping my dong. I almost drowned
her as it had been another dry spell due to my wife having "female problems".

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1968:

The year would start with a return to Latin America. The trip south began in Miami and made short stops in Panama City, Lima and terminated in Santiago, Chile. We would overnight there and then board a LAN Chile domestic flight for Punta Arenas the next day. My three mongering buddies and I set off in a cab and told him to take us to the best whores in town. Something either got lost in the translation or he had different tastes than we did. He took us to a small apartment just beyond the edge of downtown where two medium to bad chicas sat doing their nails. My buddies all wanted to get out of there but I was hornier than I was smart and insisted on staying and doing the better looking of the two, And thus began the "Aventura de las tres Marias".

The first Maria was the kind of pretty chica at the apartment. She was about 10 pounds overweight, wore too much makeup and had smokers breath. I negotiated a 50 Escudo deal (which was about $7). We undressed, jumped in the sack, she grabbed my cock, it got hard right away and she deftly rolled on a rubber. No foreplay - no prelims. I got on top missionary style and was blasting off in just under 5 minutes. I rolled off, she reached for her cigarettes, lit one and trudged of to the bath to get me a basin of water and a wash rag. She sat on the edge of the bed, smoking her cig in hands-free mode and cleaning up my dick and crotch area with both her hands. There was something comical about it looking back.

I went back to the parlor and my annoyed friends were glad that I had been quick. We went back
outside and figured we would change our luck and asked the cabbie to take us to a stripper joint.
That didn't work out either as we ended up at a Chilean version of a 1920 Burly-Q show.

We went out the other door and ditched/stiffed our cabbie and walked about a block to a main street. Another cab screeched to a stop in front of us with a Dezi Arnaz look-alike driving it with his radio blaring at a good 120 db volume. "Yous want chicas" he asked in English. We all responded "si, si" and we were off on a heart-stopping run through Santiago where we learned that traffic lights were largely ignored at night and that the first car to flick his lights or honk his horn got the right of way.

We roared to a stop in front of what looked like a bar back home but with a neon sign with the
numbers "69" flashing and flickering. An outline of a girl reclining on a sofa further helped the
uninitiated to understand what the establishment was. (Turned out the address was #69 Bandito or
something like sounded like "Bandito" Street.) How apropo.

Our cabbie/guide took us in and we were greeted by "La Madre San" in the outer foyer. She explained to him that they had over 40 girls available that night and we could have our choice. The price was the unheard of sum of 65 Escudos (about $7.25 US). She led us to the first sitting room where 20-25 very pretty girls were seated on chairs and sofas. Two of my buddies latched on to a couple of dark haired beauties without waiting to see the second room. In the second room was a slightly smaller group (15-20) that had mostly second stringers with one or two knockouts. I opted for one of these knockouts as did my buddy Jim. She was a blonde Chileana of German & Spanish descent that was one of the prettiest women I'd ever seen, let alone was going to fuck. Her name, as it turned out, was also Maria. I paid the Madre-san and literally bounded up the stairs tothe second floor where the cribs were. Nice accomodations, very clean. The girl closed the door, asked me if I spoke Spanish and when I said yes asked me if I'd like to take her clothes off and give her a quick bath. That was easy. By the time I was drying her off I had the most raging hard-on I'd ever had. She led me to the bed and started to undress me. We ended up flopping down in the bed together engaged in some DFK. After 15 minutes of foreplay she rolled over on her back and made motions for me to climb aboard. I didn't have any condoms, she didn't seem to have any and didn't seem to worry about it. I was going to be gone another two months so I figured that anything I might catch here could be easily cured with a shot on Penicilan before I got home. I was thankful for my earlier roll in the hay with the first Maria as it allowed me to last forever. What a great fuck and such a prety girl. We'd been in there over an hour before I finally popped. We got cleaned up and dressed then went downstairs arm in arm and I got a hiss of boos from my friends who'd all finished quickly. This gal is still probably one of my all time top ten in both looks and talent.

Rode back to the hotel and managed to squeeze in four hours of sleep before it was time to get up
for the trip to the airport and the flight to Punta Arenas.

The flight down on the DC-6B was smooth as silk until we approached P-A. There was a wicked
cross wind of 60 knots that made for a very disagreeable approach and landing. We crabbed in
at about a 45 degree angle until the last second before touchdown when the pilot quickly turned
the nose to line up or nearly so with the runway. We'd made it.

Stayed in the Cabo del Horno Hotel in town on Government vouchers. Did some reconoitering around downtown but nothing much doing. I didn't have alot of cash left and was counting on getting paid when our ship came in and picked us up. We stayed in town four nights, quite bored and then went aboard ship. The old salts who'd been there before told us about a legendary Cat House that was supposedly the southernmost one in the world. As luck would have it I pulled duty the first night and couldn't go out and party. I was drafted for Shore Patrol duty in the morning when 12 of the ship's crew failed to make muster. We got a ride out to the Night Club area on the North Side courtesy of some Chilean SPs. They had heard about a big gringo sailor party at Maria Teresa's and were pretty sure that would be where we would find our missing guys. We did - and what a sorry bunch they were. Not one had a complete uniform left and they were passed out in closets, bathtubs and even under beds. It took a while to round them up and we had to wait for a livestock wagon to transport them. The next two nights we were away from the pier for refueling and then we were back for one final night. I had gotten paid and headed out with the liberty party at 10:30PM. (Back then the houses couldn't open till sundown. At that lattitude in January that didn't happen until almost 11PM.

We arrived right after M-Ts opened and it was not a pretty site even then. These girls were 3s to 6s, even after a couple of drinks. I thought about passing altogether but then remembered we would be leaving for Antarctica in the morning and wouldn't even see another woman till early April.

I don't remember exactly what happened next but sometime around 1:30 I became aware of being in one of the cribs, naked on fairly narrow bed. A few minutes later I was joined by a woman about 30 named Maria (the third of the three Marias). We chit-chatted briefly and then she asked if I'd like a blow-job to get started. This was one of the few times I asked for a CBJ - not wanting to take a chance here. She performed that task well and then climbed aboard cowgirl style and I was in all the way. Her's was the strangest feeling pussy I'd ever felt. Really hard to describe. Very little muscle ribbing but some not unpleasant tight but smooth vaginal walls. I asked her what she used to make her pussy feel like it did and she answered "Alum". Not sure exactly what it did but I suspect I might have fallen in balls and all if she hadn't had the treatments. I got the job done and she went "down the hall" to freshen up. After 15 minutes she hadn't returned but in walked the Madre-san with a basin of water and what at least looked like a clean cloth. I remember her
starting to clean me up and the next thing I remember was waking up aboard ship about 07:30 with a very bad head and no money in my pockets. (No biggie as I had only taken about $30 with me).

We returned home on schedule in April and moved a month later half way between Baltimore and
Washington. An easy run to either playground.

I could have sworn I did more than one DC streetgirl that year but that's all the journal shows. I sort of remember this one. She was a pretty, light skinned African American girl that offered a 1/2 & 1/2 session in the car in the back of the parking lot of a supermarket. My records show I paid $25 and gave her an 8 out of 10 rating for the session. Not bad for street meat.

Made three more trips up to the block in Baltimore. I had found a club I liked and it had some of the prettier working girls. The three sessions were all pretty much carbon-copies of each other. Buy the bottle of Panther Piss for $25, go back to the booths, drop trou and get it on. Did a 1/2 and 1/2 with a cute girl fresh off the bus from the midwest named Fawn; a bbbjtc with a tall blonde "Bambi" and another 1/2 and 1/2 with a blonde space cadet named Marilyn. I tipped them each $10 so they must have been at least okay.

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1969

Uncle Sam decided to send me back to New York City. Family housing was not available so I
put my wife and kid in as little town 75 miles north of the city where her sister lived and I
commuted home on weekends and sometimes one night mid-week. This left time for practicing my hobby.

My next session was one of my strangest. Went walking up 8th Avenue with some fellow mongers. 8th Ave by now had porno shops and massage parlors on every corner. I saw one with a sign offering "your wildest fancy - $20. What the hell... Walked in and there were two decent looking white girls dressed in some really sleezy teddies I think they are called. I plonked down my $20 and one of them led me to the back. She asked if I wanted a NY 1/2 & 1/2? How is that different I inquired? You fuck me till you're almost ready to come and them I pull off the rubber and suck you off down my throat. Hey, sounded good to me. I remember this session pretty well and it went off pretty much as advertised. When I met up with my buddies later and told them about it two of them made a bee-line back to the place and gave similar reports in the AM.

A few weeks later I was prowling 8th avenue again and hooked up with a street girl that caught my fancy. Got a bbbj for $15 in a hallway. Heading back to the subway I realized I'd lost my wallet and went back to the hallway where I remarkably found it. Still had the money in it and everything.

My mother and father got divorced in 1969 and the old man moved down to the city and got a job working as a bartender in a restaurant his old boss had opened in Spanish Harlem. This would prove to be a godsend.

I got off duty on a Monday night and went up to see him at work. The place was really nice and
served a dinner crowd from 6 till 10 but after that became a hooker pickup joint for some
semi and full-time professionals. Hooked up with a hot Rican named Rosa with a huge set of tits and
a motor that didn't know how to stop. $20.

Got a call a couple of weeks later from the old man asking me if I'd be interested in joining him
on a "double-date" with a "mother-daughter" team on his night off. Why not? Showed up at the bar
on the appointed night and he was seated at a table in the bar with a nice looking PR about 40
and an even cuter one about 20. Sat down, had a drink and when we started to get up to go to their place on the next block I reached for the younger one's arm. My old man smacked it down and said
that one was his and that I was doing the mother. I don't remember how I reacted but anyway we
had a nice couple of hours with the ladies and it only cost us $20 each.

A week later he called and asked if I'd like to go with them again. I told him that this time I wanted the daughter and he answered "No problem". Pretty much a repeat of the first time but I have to admit that the mother was better. The mother was Maria de los Angeles and the daughter Maria Elizabeta.

Got involved in an affair with a non-working girl late that spring that put a curb on my mongeriong.
I couldn't afford a wife, a girlfriend and prostitutes. The affair lasted over a year and only ended because I wouldn't "leave my wife".

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1970

Right after my affair ended I called up the old man and asked him to set me up with a good one to
celebrate my return to the brotherhood. He called me the next day and told me to be at the bar at 10PM that night. I showed up a few minutes early and he was alone in the bar. I asked him what he had lined up for me and he said "Here comes Isabella now". She was a tiny Puerto Rican about 4ft 9in with a set of 32b's that looked huge on her tiny frame. She looked about 16 but he assuured me she was 21 because he had to check her ID at the bar. She was a hot little thing that left me drained a few hours later. $20.

Called the old man up for another set-up a few weeks later and he told me there was one I might like that was showing up every night about 10. I was there at 9:30 and got to meet Maria-Elena. She was a dark Rican with bleached blonde hair and a shaved pubic region. Had a nice couple of hours with her for the standard $20.

Didn't make it back to the bar for over a month but went one night apparently on a whim and met the prettiest Rican I'd every met before or since. I felt like I wanted to really have a long party with this one and negotiated an all-nighter for $35. Had a great time and was late getting back to the base in the morning. I tried to locate her a month later but found out she had gone back to PR.

I got involved in a secret high-tech project while stationed in New York that would require me to travel periodically down to a base just outside Baltimore. This allowed me to make a couple of return trips to "The Block".

Went to a Club called "Talk of the Town" and became infatuated with a dancer/stripper that went
by the name "Cricket". Tried to get her to agree to a session but she reported that it was the
wrong time of the month. I wanted to have some kind of a party with her so I ended up with
a $40 bbbj in the club in one of the rear booths. Made a "date" with her for the following week
at a rendevous near where she lived but she didn't keep it. I went back to the club and was told
she hadn't been back to work in a couple of days and no one knew what had happened to her. I was
pissed off and not much in the mood any more and went back to the base.

Two nights later I went back to Talk of the Town and hooked up with a stripper that told me to rent a room at a nearby motel and come back to pick her up at 2AM. I did, expecting another scam, but it
all worked out and Janet, a red head with really big freckled tits spent the five hours with me for
$50. She was one of the nicest pros I've met over the years. Would have been good girl-friend material.

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to be continued.....

Just out of curiosity, what was your wife doing all this time? She never said anything about why you were continually disappearing?

I was in the service during this whole period. While I was stationed in DC I did alot of TAD trips and worked different hours while I was home. She just accepted it as the way it was.

When we moved to New York she was living upstate with our son and I was only home on weekends. During the week I stayed on the base and pretty much came and went as I pleased.

Excellent. Having been a Corpsman in Service for years, I cant tell you how many STD's I've cured (including myself)but there is nothing like sticking your dick in a hot, different, female, is there? Mojo