Soon, out of the smog emerged one of Macau’s bridges, signaling that we’d be docking shortly. So I was back. Macau was the last place I mongered on my epic two-month journey through Asia two years ago, and once more I was about to step foot on its shore. After that trip, I rated Macau as my second-favorite mongering locale after Bangkok. I can say right now that nothing has changed. This city of desire still holds firm to her ranking and continues to light fires in my libido.
Even before the gangway dropped and the doors opened, we could hear them. The unmistakable whine of souped-up horsepower, screaming over pounded pavement. It was the final day of Macau’s annual Grand Prix, and the main event was going on as we disembarked. The course winds it way right in front of the ferry terminal, offering visitors an immediate piece of the action. Soon I was off the dock and into the terminal, quickly winding my way through immigration. After another visa stamp was added to the burgeoning collection residing in my passport pages, I was in the tourist information office scooping up the latest selection of maps on offer.
After that, it was off by taxi to Macau’s west side. I love the west side of Macau, at the end of Avenida de Almeida Ribeiro, next to the inner harbor. It has a very different ambience than that generated by the perfunctory monoliths that rise on the east side, where the major hotels and the business district are. The west side is a hodge-podge of winding alleys, old buildings, and hidden mongering delights. It is also where the most value is too be had for one’s mongering dollar.
The taxi dropped me off at the East Asia hotel, where I stayed on my last trip. I managed to get a room without a reservation, for $290 HK a night (about $37 US). I remembered the manager working the desk from my last stay here, and engaged him in conversation, as he spoke decent English. In my first trip report on Macau, I talked at length about the “girlie hotels” on the west side, of which the East Asia was one. These hotels were either massive brothels that rented rooms to the girls, who hung out in the lobbies, or they were legitimate hotels with a room full of available girls adjacent to the lobby.
On that visit, the East Asia was a mongering hotel. They catered to men, mostly Hong Kongers, who came to gamble and fuck. There was a large room just off the lobby to the right when you walked in the door that was crammed with working girls willing to go up with you. Those days are no more. Much to my chagrin, the manager told me that the girls had been gone about a year. The owners changed tact and started targeting tour groups from the mainland. Strangely enough, the men in these groups didn’t mind the presence of the girls at all, but for some reason, the women objected, and that was that. Thus the East Asia has been scratched from the list of girlie hotels. Now every day, numerous tour groups fresh from the farm somewhere in rural China arrive for their one night stay in Macau, and let me tell you, they create a fucking racket in the process.
It was about 4 in the afternoon. With the bag stashed in the room, it was time to commence my re-acquaintance with Macau’s demimonde. I turned right out the lobby door, and 50 meters later was standing in front of the Ruby. I could immediately see that nothing had changed here. My hand wasn’t even off the handle before I was swarmed by a heaving throng of Chinese pussy. I love this place. The girls have a tendency to surround you in the lobby and grope your body, all the while begging you to “Take me,” “No, take me,” “Take both of us.” I quickly settled, as oft I do, on a spinner. Up the stairs I climbed I with Xian Yi, who was 21, and from Hulan. And much to my delight, she had those wonderful stand-at-attention nipples that I have a major fetish for.
Now pardon me for a digression here, but I’d like to pontificate on one of the world’s most underrated pleasures: the female nipple. I am, in a word or two, a nipple connoisseur. I take them quite seriously and will devote a great deal of time swirling them around in mouth and flicking them with my tongue, much like a wine aficionado might do with a good Bordeaux. I have a penchant for perky nipples, the ones that stand straight up and scream out to the world “salute me!” Much like nature abhors a vacuum, I abhor the flat, silver dollar types, which are utterly boring. To me, give the skyscrapers.
This little digression also explains one of the major allures of Chinese women for me. For the most part, they have Grade-A nipples. I don’t know if it’s the water, or the rice, but more than any other ethnicity I’ve found in my travels, Chinese girls possess superlative nipples. Combined with their tight pussies and supple skin, they are one of the great mongering cuisines the planet has to offer.
Return with me now, if you will, to a non-descript room on the 4th floor of the Pensao Ruby in Macau. My little demimondaine and I have showered and I am going to town on her little monuments. Soon after, I experience that wonderful tight sensation I have come to expect from these China girls. Despite the fact that she wouldn’t engage in any DFK, this first session was a winner. The price was also still the same for the Ruby: $300 HK (@$39 US).
Photos: Xian Yi 1 Xian Yi 2 Xian Yi 3
I swaggered down the stairs, waded through the field of girls in the lobby (“one more?” they would ask hopefully) and emerged onto the alley with my legs aquiver, a sensation I usually get when I’ve had a good lay, due to the powerful orgasms I experience from time to time. With a grin on my face I sauntered off down the alleys to the south, meandering my way towards the London Hotel. After all, I had research to do.
The London is situated next to the very legitimate Best Western-affiliated Sun Sun Hotel. On my last trip, it was basically a giant brothel, Exhibit A in the pantheon of girlie hotels that laced this side of the city. Given the changes at the East Asia, I was prepared for the worst, so I braced myself as I drew near. At first I made a pass on the sidewalk, casting innocent glances through the glass door into the lobby. Shit, not a single girl was in sight. Last time, there were 20 in the lobby that mobbed me, ala the Ruby. This was not good.
Wanting to be sure the London’s days of glory were over, I performed a U-turn and walked up to the door. This time I stuck my head in to get a better glance. And I’m sure this board will be relieved to know that I put out that extra bit of effort, because I discovered that the London indeed is still very much a girlie hotel. But instead of the ground floor lobby, all the girls were hanging out on the second floor landing of the stairs that head straight up from the lobby.
It was a pair of white boots that did it. They were dangling from the second floor, with a nice pair of legs attached to them. That got me to get the rest of my body to follow my head into the hotel itself in order to investigate those legs further. I moved to the foot of the stairs and looked up to find myself gazing at a good 15-20 girls, beckoning me to rise to the occasion. So rise I did, elevating myself to the second floor landing in order to choose333 a new flower to pluck. I soon found that the prices were still the same here as well. $300, just like the Ruby.
After scanning the crowd, I settled on Tin Tin, who coincidently was also 21 and from Hulan. I’m normally a small to medium breast man, but for some reason I always choose big C-cuppers at this place. Tin Tin had a nice rack, and I enjoyed watching them shake as I rode her hard. Again no kissing, but I had a nice time with her. We had taken the elevator up to her room, and I took the stairs down. The place was full of working girls. They were hanging out in the halls, standing in doorways, sitting on beds. They were everywhere. There must have been 50 from Tin Tin’s room to the stairway back down to the lobby. The London definitely offers selection and value, and I highly recommend the place, as I do the Ruby.
Photos: Tin Tin 1 Tin Tin 2
As satisfied as a man can be who has gotten laid twice in two hours, I was sauntering back to the East Asia, when I stumbled upon a new sauna that wasn’t there two years ago. The lobby looked very classy, so I decided to check it out for future reference, even though I wasn’t ready for another session at that moment. The sauna is called the Hong Thai, and I spoke to Simon, one of the assistant managers. He gave me the price structure and let me flip through the picture books. There was one Chinese girl that stood out (they also had a lot of Vietnamese girls), #678, that I made special note of.
There are two kinds of saunas in Macau. One type is really a brothel. You pick your girl out of the lineup and go to a room with her, where you shower and fuck. The other type is far more elaborate. They have communal shower facilities, Jacuzzis, saunas, massage services, manicure & pedicure services, and other services in addition to the sexual menu. Most of the latter type are also open 24 hours. The Hong Thai falls into this second category. They are mostly located in the major hotels, and can be quite pricey. However I was delighted to discover that the Hong Thai’s prices were much more reasonable. $738 HK for a one hour session with a Chinese girl. 45 minute legitimate massages with a masseuse could be tacked on to that for just $100. With this information collected, I returned to the hotel and freshened up for dinner.
It was 2:30 in the morning, and several drunk assholes from one of those infernal tour groups woke me up as they stumbled down the hallway from the elevator, shouting at each other as they into, wouldn’t you know it, the room right next to mine. On went a blaring TV, as they decided to shout at each other some more. After staring at an invisible ceiling for half an hour, silently cursing the peasantry, I finally gave up, and decided to make a run for that girl at the Hong Thai, since it was so close. Moments later, rubbing my bleary eyes, I stumbled into the lobby and ask to see #678. Shortly thereafter I was whisked away to one of the line up rooms and seated on a couch. In marched the casting call parade of about 15 girls, including 678. She was by far and away the winner of the bunch and won this personal screen test of mine. Now it was just a matter of seeing how she performed in the spotlight.
After the rest of the auditionees were sent away, I was escorted down to the second floor and taken into the locker area. The Hong Thai was a classy place, with very nice amenities. Everything on me was put into the locker (there was no way to sneak a camera to the room). All I could take were a couple of my favorite Crown condoms. A key went over my wrist and I was given a simple white robe that lacked pockets. After I showered, I was led to the lounge where several other customers sat in armchairs. As I got comfortable, they brought me a drink (included in the price), and the menu, in case I wanted other services before or after my session with 678. I decided to opt for a legitimate massage afterward and really pamper myself. If the peasantry was going to drive me out of my room, I decided to make the most of the situation.
After some sips on the drink, I signaled that I was ready for the main event. An escort took me up to my room on the fifth floor. The room had a professional massage table on one end, and a queen-sized bed on the other. Then Chi Chi arrived. Also 21, she was from Xian, and once I had removed her negligee, discovered that she had a body worthy of some serious worship. It was simply incredible. As I have known people to say, this girl was built like a brick shithouse. 34B breasts and nipples that pierced the sky. I was in heaven. No kissing was allowed, but otherwise I had full access to her body. I went down on her, and she reciprocated with one of those ice blowjobs that are fairly common in Macau. Chi Chi moaned like a Japanese porn star as I plugged away. It was an excellent session. If she would have DFK’d me, it would have been superb.
After the hour was up, I was weak in the knees and feeling good. Chi Chi left, and not a minute later, the masseuse materialized out of no where and slapped me on to the massage table for a 45 minute rub down. A very content Murasaki settled his total bill of $838 HK ($108 US) and returned to his hotel room at about 5:30, at peace with the world. Why, oh why, he wondered, can’t we have places like this back home?
All was bliss for the next one hour and twenty minutes. Then reality reared it’s ugly head at 6:50 in the morning, when the tour guide from the tour group from hell walked down the hallway pounding on everyone’s doors, telling them all to get up. This was followed shortly by the whole crew flooding into the hallway, chattering with each other at the top of their lungs. With my head buried in a pillow, I resolved to do something about this. Whenever I could blow my ass out of bed.
Through the miracle of jet lag, I was up, showered, and out on the street by 9:30. I was just a block away from the Hong Thai, at the corner where the Man Va sits, when I ran into several girls just hanging out on the corner. It was pretty obvious what they were hanging there for, especially when they asked me “massagee?” From all appearances, it seemed I had discovered the low rent district of mongering for Macau. Most seemed to be third stringers. However, there was one who was pretty cute, with a slender figure and a very nice rack to boot.
I walked past them, but something about her grabbed onto to my libidinous imagination, so I turned around and retraced my steps to the corner. As I grew near, I realized I was popping major wood, even after 4 sessions in the previous sixteen hours. I asked her how much and she shrugged, kind of doing an “up to you” thing. So I held up three fingers and she immediately grabbed my hand and led me to a doorway just across from the Man Va. Fong was 23, and hailed from Sichuan. She turned out to be quite a gem. She was very and seemed genuinely happy that I had chosen her. She also wound up providing the first DFK of the trip. She had a very tight pussy, calling for me to go slow for a long time in order to “loosen” things up. We finished off with a good pounding from behind.
This session also proved to be memorable for one of those comedic moments that happen from time to time in the mongering life. I guess word had spread pretty fast among their little bamboo network that Fong had a gwailo in her room. There we were on her bed, sans clothing. My tongue was giving her nipples the attention they deserved, moving back and forth between the two with an occasional detour up to her mouth when a knock so rudely rang out on her door.
Fong got up to answer, and it turned out to be two of her friends/colleagues trying to get a piece of the action. The more aggressive of the two forced her past Fong and approached me as I sat on the edge of the bed, in the buff, with a hard on. She commenced to beg me to let her blow me for $100 HK. The motions she made in order to mimic a blow job were quite comical, but I continually declined. She was extremely persistent, and finally I looked at Fong, who was helplessly standing by the door, as nude as I, perplexed as to what to do. I gave her a motion that said “if she doesn’t go, I will.” She got the picture and was finally able to drag the dragon-faced mime out the door. It was a nice session with a nice girl, interruptions aside.
That was the morning of my second day. Move the clock forward about 13 hours or so, and I had just arrived at the Hotel Forsun, right on the main drag, just a block from the East Asia, looking for a little night cap. The Forsun is also still going strong as a girlie hotel, with the going rate pegged at $500. I’m still not sure why these girls ask for more than the Ruby and London, but they do. One thing I have learned about dealing with girls in these hotels, and the freelancers who congregate in certain locations together, is that they will all charge the same price, without deviation. I think there is a group “face” issue at work: one girl doesn’t want to be seen taking less money than another, so they all stick to the same rates at a given locale. Digression aside, I wound up choosing a little Hunan spinner by the name of Sun Wei, who was 20. We had an ok session, but again there was no DFK. There were several hotties in the lobby when I left; one in particular I mentally marked for a return visit, but alas I never got back there for a run at her.
My final session in Macau for this visit also took place on the West Side. It was my last night, and I wound up outside the Ruby at about 10 pm. I chose a girl who had hung back and hadn’t joined the rugby scrum that was taking place, with me as the ball. Zin Zin was from a town close to Shanghai, and was 21. We went to her room, and as it turned out, her roommate was sleeping. I was asked the usual “do you want two” question that one always seems to get in these places, and after scoping out the roommate, declined. So the roommate, with tousled hair and ruffled pajamas, marched out to seek another location to snooze at while some gwailo shagged her roommate and made mattress music. Zin Zin had a nice skinny body, but there was nothing memorable about the session. I could have sworn I got one picture of the girl, and my notes even say I took one, but there is nothing on my flash cards. I’m still puzzling over this one….
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