Do you remember when and where you stated puntering ? hobbying ? mongering ? :-)

---------------------------------------------

After I finished Collge, hunting for a job, I took up an offer few thousand miles away. In months that followed I & my SO could not sustain a long distance relationship.

This was even before the Laker Airways or People's Express era. BOAC was still what BA is now called and there was no deregulation of the airline industry.

After six months of training, I was dispatched to a hardhat project site in a distant country. A week or so into my stay there, some old veterans of the Co. told me there was *nothing* to do in the place - No theatre,movies,TV nyet,nada. I needed to get myself a maid/cook/cleaner and *boff* her, paying her by the week to do all of the above. These were common practices from the old colonial times.

One month later, they even found me one; Nearly all my field pay+expenses went towards food,booze and boffing - Five months later, back on contractual leave, I shuddered to think going back again so I quit the Co. Knowing that some of the veteran Engineers and other sub-contractors had been there for years - Working/Eating/Drinking/Boffing - If one could afford, have two (a maid and cook). I promised to be more careful about assignments and lengh of stays and benefits......

That was my first fore into sampling

I remember-19 yrs old, Pamplona, Spain. (I was 19, she was probably 30)

Back when I was young and stupid, the only thing I knew about hookers was that, supposedly, you could find street walkers in the seedy, run-down parts of big cities. So, being a smaller-town boy, I used to drive into Kansas City and look for hookers in the only place I knew to look for them - on certain streets in KC. So, after working up the nerve for several hours, I drove to those streets on weekend nights to see what was there. Nooooooo thanks...

Then, a few years later, I found myself on a solo vacation in New Orleans. I was still incredibly uninformed, and this was still several years before the internet, so I figured I'd finally be able to find one here. I went into a bar to pee, and saw what I thought must have been working chicas, but I was still too chicken (and afraid of cops). Then I finally found a real skanky chic on the street (I didn't see any others) and we agreed to go for $50.

On the way to her place, she got me to up the price to $100, promising it would be worth it. We get into her apt. and she kicks her boyfriend out for a while. I get out the rubber and she asks me, "what is that for?" She explained that she only did blow jobs. Great - a $100 BJ from a total skank. The only good thing is that I got a pretty good 10-15 minute BBBJTC out of the deal.

I only mongered twice in the US after that, and never since. Next time was an escort from an agency in the phone book in St. Louis. Looking back on it, I got real lucky. On my second call, I got a nice looking, sweet and very acommodating nursing student for $100/hr. I've since read the horror stories about the $300 cash-and-dash deal you get in Phoenix.

3rd and last time was an MP in San Francisco. Older, so-so looking Chinese-American. Basically got to fuck her missionary for about 20-30 min. for like $80 or so.

These three events were spread over about 6-7 years.

Then I found Nogales and Club Hombre shortly after. Viva la internet! Next stop, Buenos Aires or Brazil!!

A psychotic suspicious girlfriend drove me into Tijuana (literally!). I had read a little bit about the Zona but wasn't really planning on cheating. I was expecting what you might find in a run down Revo club when I walked through the curtains of Adelitas...was I suprised!

I eventually became a regular and met Cman. He introduced me to Thailand and the Philippines.

In my never ending quest for knowledge, I later discovered Costa Rica, Cambodia, Argentina, and Brazil. So far my favorite place is Brazil with Thailand coming in second.

But I still have plenty of unexplored territory (by me) to visit and "learn" about different cultures.

You might as well ask me to try and remember the first time I picked up a shell on the beach.

I was 21 or 22, living in Wiesbaden, Germany. I finally got up the nerve to wander into Crazy Sexy Sauna 2000. Basically you walk through the hallways and girls are in the doorways or laying on their bed with the door open so you can decide what you want. I was overwhelmed by how gorgeous many of the women were. It was 1985 I think, and the price was 50 DM for about 15 minutes. I was too nervous to perform, so I ended up being a pretty worthless monger that night.

Annoyed by my "nice guy" (= never gets laid) status and in a new city with a beneficial exchange rate, to start my new graduate career. In Toronto downtown, heading for my crappy apartment, driving my old beater, I notice I'm following BMW's and Lexus's and Jag's. What gives? Why so much high-class vehiculage in such a low-class neighborhood?

So, I start to look around at the intersection of Jarvis and College, or Church and Adelaide, or so, and realize that the interesting thing that brought the expensive cars to the neighborhood was the women standing on the street corners, not the striking architecture (Sears headquarters; empty houses) or the street corners themselves. Soon enough I got hooked, but (I'm amazed to say) I can't remember who where when or even if we did it in the car or some skanky hotel.

I became an instant addict. That first experience was mind-bending. I yelled and screamed and hollered and high-fived myself in the car after the event, and I remember that emotional "high" like it was yesterday. "All you have to do is ... just ask" kept running through my head. I'd finally escaped the Puritan American stranglehold on my dick. (Of course, I still hadn't learned to get laid without money, and I'm still working on that, but that's a different issue.)

I even got a sweet young college girlfriend, and soon was working hard on convincing her to travel that summer with me to Europe so she could visit her family in southern England while I headed to Amsterdam for ... "research." I "main-lined" mongering in the red-light districts there, and was a verifiable addict, spending each night in a cheezy sex-shop of some sort, or in a video booth at a corner coin-o-mat. It was exhilarating but also all-encompassing -- I missed the Rijksmuseum, etc. Somehow a dam had burst. That was in the mid-1980s.

Eventually my own sexual drives began to wane a bit, and I learned to control my monetary outlay. I'm still an "addict," in the sense that mongering significantly reduces my quality of life -- I lose too much money to it. WAY too much, given my lifestyle, expenses, and capacity to afford it. It started out as addictive, and has remained that way.

I have only mongered in USA, Canada, Holland. Hope to do more soon, thanks to Club Hombre type information. Then again, hope to kick the addiction as well. I'm of two minds. No, three. Well, four, four minds. I'll come in again. Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition ...

First "mongering" experience was a couple weeks back in Rio...as expected, it changed EVERYTHING and the serial monogamist is no longer quite as concerned with finding his next steady, lol...I'll post more details in my newbie trip report (as soon as my damn home computer is fixed!)

Rexxx,

1st time was in Rio? Nowhere to go now but DOWNHILL.

HC1

I was in TJ, hanging out on Revo where I met this guy who told ask me if I wanted to go somewhere more fun. I was too chicken to ask that night, but just knowing where it was drove me back to it the next week. I bought a chica about ten thounsand drinks before we got to negotiate, then whoop! You know the rest. I remember coming back home asking myself "Did I just fuck a hooker?" Damn! I gotta do this again!

Massage place in a western UK city. Basically two girls with a bedroom each. They took it in turns to
service the customers - I had no choice which girl - or didn't know to ask. Anyway I got Ashley who claimed to be 18 and had been in the biz 3 weeks and I can believe it she was sweet and friendly and willing. Nice crotch massage followed by covered BJ and then multiple positions. While I was humping away she told me about the construction crew that had been there the previous night - she had to fuck six big semi-drunk guys in a few hours and how it was nice to have a relaxed fuck with me!

I was 16, walked into a filthy whorehouse called Chicago club in teejay with the mob. I thought I was somewhere in Thailand or Hong Kong. The place was filled with beautiful women. I met a gorgeous morena Latina who either was from Guadalajara or Sinaloa, I can't recall correctly.

I remembered vividly that she asked me "you want to make love to me or you want to f$%@ me???" I took the Chinese half chowmein & half fried-rice combo. Damn, she was gorgeous...

It was March 1997. I was “officially” separated from the ex-wife. I had a business trip to Bahrain so I took 3 days off and played in Amsterdam. I blew all my per diem in 2 days. Damn, that was fun!! First girl was an Asian beauty. I then sampled girls from Italy, Netherlands, Eastern Europe, Cuba, and Africa.

...(prog)

My first dive bomb happened in the cheap motel located above the Chicago Club in dirty Tijuana, BC, Mexico. It was the cheapest sex I've ever paid for. Forty bucks! Gyeah!!! My following trips to Adelitas figuratively deteriorated the magnetic stripe from my ATM card.

But before this, I made a HUGE mistake that costed me $175 plus a cheap motel 6 room in San Diego. I tried one of them 'escort' things through Yahoo's yellow pages. This hot white slut came to the door, took my money up front, and asked me what I wanted. My blunt mouth said these exact words, "I want sex. What else did I call you for". She said she doesn't provide sex. I asked for my money back, the bitch threatened me with a knife and a can of mase, and she takes off.

Lesson Learned: Monger in other countries because you save money and you get your sex up front, just the way the bitches want their money.

Combat zone (Boston) back in the '83 when playing hookey from a school field trip. The class went to see the USS Consitution, meanwhile I ducked out and headed to the combat zone. I met up with a ho who sucked like a vasccum for 40 bucks... well sucked for around 7 minutes and she bolted. She said she was nervous cuz of the fuzz. Although I was left hanging, it planted a fertile monger seed. After that, I started to realize the value of a dollar ;)

'Sagi joint in LA back in 1992. She luv'd me no shit. Soon after I was cruising the streets of LA for more affordable delights.

Nothing like a hurried BJ in the front seat of your car down in Long Beach from some skank that can pull out her teeth. When the teeth come out it makes for one HELL of a gumjob!!

E

I was seventeen and visiting Honolulu for week before I went off to college. My uncle, a Hawaiin native, was a liqour inspector for the city of Honolulu. The first thing we tried was a hostess place that was most likely staffed by filipinas. Uncle was a good guy as he gave me the seven and he took the five. Each of us couple went to sit in a booth that had really tall seatbacks. A waiter brought a little bucket of ice. Little miss cherry picker pulled out my extremely aroused cock and started to give me an ice Hand Job. The Uncle popped in and scolded her to not scam me and give me the oral treatment. About thirty seconds later my gal was mixing a white russian in her mouth. Of course my Uncle and the two gals had a laugh about the young buck's lack of staying power. Of course when it came to pay up the gals were not impressed enough with my Uncle's badge to forgive our bill. Ooops Uncle was short for his bill and I had to lend him 20 Bucks.

Another night on that trip we bar hopped all the trendy spots, and dressed as bums we still never waited in line, paid a cover charge, or paid for a drink. We were toasted good when a smoking hot blond approached for a good time. My uncle being a good sport drove around while me and the ho and I did our thing in the back seat.

The were a couple of other adventures that trip as well. Uncle was a good dude may he RIP. It would also be another good ten years before I would P4P again.

My first mongering experience was in 1966 on a Carribean Cruise courtesy of "Uncle Sam's Confused Group" (USCG for short). My ship, a 300 foot "Cutter" was sent to Guantanamo Bay for its regular bienniel "refresher training". This entailed 4 weeks of hell in Gtmo with liberty ports in Haiti, Jamaica and Colombia while enroute down and back, as well as on our 2 "off" weekends.

We stopped in Cap Haitien, Haiti on the way to Gtmo where I had my first real "pro" and my first ever partner of African descent. An afternoon in the best bordello in town cost me $5 and a $2 tip.

The following week we went to Port-au-Prince which was one of the poorest and dirtiest places I ever visited. We found a "hooker" ranch on the outskirts of the city that catered to US sailors and once again a five-spot got me a whole afternoon in a hayloft with a quite charming and reasonably pretty lady of African heritage.

We had to stay in Gtmo the next weekend to do Harbor Entrance Patrols protecting all the US ships anchored in the harbor.

The following week we hit Port-au-Prince a second time. It was my birthday but I was stuck with the "duty". When I got off watch I talked my way off the ship to go buy some "postcards". There was a hooker bar across the street from the end of our pier that I ducked into for a a quick "birthday party". All I had with me was a carton of Marlboros and a rubber. The Marlboros fetched $5 and that was all I needed to launch a short but nice "birthday" fling with another Haitian cutie. This one was barely 18 and new at the game. She was tight as all hell and slim with some of the nicest tits I can ever remember on a working gal.

We finished our training and the ship cruised to Kingston, Jamaica. I got pretty wasted but can remember doing a foxy multi-racial gal I picked up in a classy bar. This one set me back $15 for an all evening fling. My first time with a mixed Asian/black chic. My shipmates all told me that this one was really beautiful.

Our final stop of the trip was for 5 days of "r-n-r" in Barranquilla, Colombia. I met a gorgeous young Colombian widow in her early 20s who kept me happy and drained for the princely sum of $5 per day. I kind of fell for this chica and actually returned to Colombia a year later to explore bringing her to the US. Things didn't work out but we stayed friends and wrote to each other for a while.

I got married to a US gal and lost touch with my Colombian senorita. Almost 20 years later my wife and I divorced and I went through a spell of mongering that was of Guinness Record proportions. Some 400 partners later I was literally "burned out" by all the sex and booze. I had mongered extensively in TJ, Asia, Nuevo Laredo and Amsterdam with quick hits in many of the other popular destinations on this board.

I decided to see if I could track down my old flame from Colombia using the new fangled "Internet thing". Luck was with me and I managed to find one of her nephews in a California university. He told me she had emmigrated to the US a few years previously and was living on the East Coast, about 300 miles away from where I lived. I tracked her down and we picked our relationship back up, after a fashion. By then we were both around 50 but she was still one of the best rolls in the hay I ever had. Clearly $5 a day was no longer appropriate.

I have been seeing her regularly for almost 9 years since and make it a point to bring her one or more expensive presents when we have one of our long weekends together. She just turned 60 and I guess we may have set some kind of a record.

The years have been good to Elena and she looks to be in her early 40s. I show every one of my years. When we go out to dinner or something she is probably thought to be my "younger" girlfriend or mistress.

I still see other (younger) P-4-P gals on an infrequent basis, especially when I am travelling. As far as I know Elena works a straight job in a restaurant and I am her only paramour.

A P-4-P relationship that spans almost 38 years has got to be unique in this day and age.

ECJ

Nice story. I think knowing a girl when she was in her prime gives you an advantage years later as you are able to see through the transformed version the original beauty that was, while others can only see what is in front of them.

I was 27 and in Frankfurt. walked through the RLD, saw tonnes of girls in the rooms, and then I saw one Latina that just looked friendlier than the rest. Price was 50DM for Suck and Fxxk, but I was too paranoid about disease at that time to actually get naked. I actualy had surgical gloves with me. I asked the girl if I could finger her for the price.

She stripped and had a hot body, what I really remember is she had some tatoos, and among the most interesting were the bubbles and fish she had tatooed coming out of her A-Hole. I put on my gloves (She must have thought I was a serial killer psycho) and started fingering her pussy and she even let me finger her ass.

On other boards I rail against RLD's and say that they are ripoff places. All my experiences after that in RLD's have been bad, but this was a good start. It took me about a year to discover FKK's and the boards on the net, and before each step I have been nervous, but I am glad I have pursued this hobby.

Recently I have been thinking about this hobby versus others, and I really don't understand the point of many other hobbys. Golf is great, but nowhere near screwing a new girl. I don't understand the point of hanging out at a bar and drinking with friends, but I sure as hell understand the point of slurping a girls pussy.

This hobby has been central to most of my best memories in the past 6 years, and I am glad as hell that I took that first step in Frankfurt on the Taunusstrasse.

Peter

My first P4P was many, many years ago, on a summer night in a small midwestern town, in an eerily quiet, almost abandoned, black neighborhood. There were 3 of us, pimply teenagers, all with doubts about the wisdom of what we were about to do, but none of us willing to be the one that backed out.

We had downed too many quarts of lousy beer to supplement our bravado, and upon our knock, the door to this small bungalow opened and an old african-american guy with an expressionless face wordlessly motioned us inside.

Nobody wanted to sit on the two couches, both of which had eruptions of stuffing, so we stood. A surprisingly large negress in her late 30's or early 40's appeared through another doorway and asked "Who's first?"

I said I was. In one movement she turned and motioned me to follow her, shutting the door after us. I had assumed, wrongly, that she was going to lead me to the girl or girls, but I was badly mistaken.

We were in a small bedroom and seems she prepared to play the lead role in little this drama. Yipes!

Against one wall, a much used bed and a lamp with some clothing draped over it to dim the lightbulb was the extent of the furniture. The wooden floor creaked as she tiredly walked over to the bed and began to pull the dress over her head. Her body was every bit as bad as I feared.

She looked at me and said in a bored way, "Come on, honey. I ain't got all night".

The whole scene was obviously the opposite of what I had anticipated, but I was at a loss as to how to extricate myself from the situation.

I responded "How much?" and she quoted a price (I don't recall the amount). It didn't matter: I said I only had about half that amount. She said to go get the difference from my friends and come back.

This was my chance. I walked out to the living room and my expresson must had told my friends everything they needed to know. I motioned frantically with my eyes, and mumbling some idiotic excuses, we quickly stumbled out to the porch, where we broke into a run to the car, laughing and whooping.

SF,

At least it wasn't a tranny!

Now, to get back on topic, my first P4P was at a place that was just raided, for the first time in 20 years, just a few months ago - The Danish Health Club, in Kittery, Maine. I was in the area for the first time in 4.5 years a couple of months ago and was amazed that, one, it was still open and two, had been raided by the Feds the weekend before. First time ever. The article in the paper said the Kittery police, Maine state police and local politicians "thought it was a regular spa". Yeah, a small town of 2,000 with a large and famous bordello right off of I-95/US 1, with a big sign no less, and nobody knew what went on in there! Pricey, but real old-school bordello. Shower, change into a robe (sorry guys, not close to being a terma), then go into the "lounge" to select your massuese. Actual fact - I went with a group of guys from work, because, since my company was based in the area, we got free admission on Wednesdays before 8:00 P.M. by showing company ID or a business card. I shit you not!

As far as international P4P, my first experience was with a Filipina hooker in a club in the red-light district just outside of Gate 4 of Kadena AFB in Okinawa. Funny area, that's where the famous "Whisper Alley" is, with the hookers in the little 10x10 sheds that line the street. You walk down it and if one of the hookers seemed appealing (not a certainty, at least when I was there), you went into the shed and did your business. The thing is, the sheds have walls so thin, you can hear everything said (or moaned/screamed/yelled) inside perfectly clearly on the street and vice versa. So, as a courtesy, when you were walking the Alley you kept your voice low so as to not disturb your fellow mongers getting their oil changed, so to speak, in the shacks.

Massage parlor in New York in the 70's, before Nazi-man became mayor and "cleaned up" the city. $10 in and out. I hope revealing this information doesn't make Porker search for a time machine.

I became an international P4P man in the late 80's, when I stumbled across the border into Tijuana and ended up at Adelita's and/or the Chicago Club. OTOH, maybe my first "international" experience was with a streetwalker in Montreal, perhaps a bit earlier, just not sure on the timing.

Parking garage in midtown Manhattan at age 16. Condom broke.

10 years ago, At the one and only TJ Adelitas, Was scared as hell. I finally figured it out, and started to enjoy the scene and ended up like a kid at a candy store. "I want that one, that one and that one, and that one"

It was 1998, and I had just turned 30. I had never engaged in any commercial transaction of any sort, anywhere. I was living in Japan at the time, and through a fluke of travel events, it turned out that I was able to get a free stopover in Bangkok on a return back to Japan.

“Bangkok” I thought, with Murray Head’s voice rumbling through my brain, “Oriental City…” Hell, I thought. Instead of “one night”, let’s make it a week and the travel plans were set. I still wasn’t sure whether I was going to cross the line and “pay” for it, but I love to travel and figured I’d still have a blast visiting the city. And I was, for the first time in my life, entertaining the notion of P4P.

Now it was only six years ago, but in internet time, that’s about two centuries. I had limited access to a friend’s computer, with a dial up modem. And this being Japan, you paid by the minute for the phone call. Broadband didn’t exist. But I needed to do some research. I can’t remember the site (might have been Redsnake?), but I did find one place that had the basics: where things were located, what the general range of rates were, and how barfines worked. That’s all I had, along with my Lonely Planet guide to Bangkok, ordered via Amazon and a helpful relative back in the states.

I keep fairly detailed notes about my travels, and this trip was no exception. I arrived in Bangkok on May 31, a now historic date in my life. I rode the train from the airport to Hua Lamphong Station, which cost something like 8 baht, then walked a couple of blocks over to Chinatown and found a reasonable hotel with a reasonable price for my constrained budget. I still wasn’t certain whether I was going to monger, but I decided that evening that I was at least going to take a look at Bangkok’s infamous flesh palaces.

So night fell. I knew I needed to head over to the Sukhumvit Road area, and for some reason, I decided to try the coffee shop scene first. According to my research, there were two major coffee shops that were notorious pickup joints: one was in the Nana Hotel, and the other was a place called the Thermae coffee shop. I settled on the Thermae for a walk-through

I arrived at the Thermae at about 9:20, but discovered that they didn’t open until 10. Standing close by on the sidewalk were some tut-tut driving touts trying to lure customers to whichever massage parlor was giving them the best commission at the time. Not wanting to stand around for 40 minutes sucking up the exhaust from Sukhumvit Road, I quickly altered my plans, and for the first and only time in my mongering career, I jumped into a tut-tut and let the driver whisk me away into that swirling maelstrom known as Bangkok. I was hungering for adventure, hankering for new experiences. And I was horny. Given my massive predilection for Asian women and spinners in particular, my eyeballs were popping out of the sockets at the visual smorgasbord on offer in the Big Mango. Regarding my mongering cherry, by this time, it wasn’t a matter of if, but a matter of when and how. That night. The pressure was building. The sexual energy flowing around me was palpable. Murasaki needed to get laid.

A ten minute roller-coaster ride through musky streets cloaked in shrouds of darkness and exhaust ensued. Eventually, my driver and I materialized in front of a four story building located on some non-descript soi. A doorman ushered me in to a dark lobby; immediately to the left was the cashier’s counter, and to the right a small bar, and in front were two massive glass windows, behind which sat approximately 30 women. Each one was wearing lingerie in varying degrees of undress, and a badge with a number. The ten or so who sat to the left were decked out in red; those on the right were outfitted in black or blue. The papasan guided me to the window and started into his pitch. The women on the left were the “superstars,” as opposed to the “regulars” on the right. As I stood there gazing at the wares being offered, I had the distinct feeling that I was in a grocery store, standing at a shelf trying to decided which brand and size I would choose.

And believe me, I was gazing. My mind was struggling to grasp with the sight that lay before my eyes. Truly, a sight to behold if ever there was one. Mouth open, jaw to the floor, all I could mutter was “Oh My God….” over and over again (ironically enough, the scene would be repeated again the next evening when I entered my first go-go bar in Nana Plaza).

The papasan brought me back round to the tasks at hand. Before I ascended the stairway to heaven, we needed to work out a few minor details. Namely, which little angel would accompany me, and the amount of moolah that would require. The house wanted 3500 Baht for the superstars, or 3000 for the regulars. One thing you learn very quickly in Thailand is that almost any price is negotiable. So I asked, “What’s the difference?” I could already see that the superstars were far better looking, but I was fishing for more info.

To paraphrase his answer, the superstars were fresh, and/or supposedly the best at “fucking and sucking.” The regulars were the veterans who were better at giving the soap massages. I finally negotiated a price of 3000 for a superstar (to this day, the most I have ever paid for a session in LOS); once I had the price set, I got down to the really serious business of picking my piece of fruit. Papasan kept pushing #54 on me, but I thought she had too many canine-like attributes. It came down to a toss-up between #28 and #30. Both were smoking hot, but #28 kept flirting and flashing me brilliant smiles, so she won the day.

As the papasan called her out, I was led over to the cashier to settle the account. After I paid, she appeared next to me and marched me off to the elevator and up to the third floor. Stepping off the elevator, the floor attendant assigned us a room, 2304 (yes, I even had the room number jotted down in my notes), and we soon found ourselves at the door. The room had all the essentials for sex; to the left was a very large bathtub that could easily accommodate two or three people. Next to that was a large tiled area with a slick-surfaced air mattress propped up against the wall (oh boy! I thought – I had read about the “soapie” body massages). The back of the room was occupied by a queen-size bed and a loveseat with a coffee table.

Her name was “Apple” (when she asked for mine I replied “Pie”), and she had a body sculpted in the eye of god. She was a classic Thai spinner, with a very hard body, perky breasts and my favorite type of nipple: those that project outward, standing at attention like a Marine on drill. She said she was from Chiang Mai and that she was 18.

Foreplay began immediately on the couch while we sipped colas. Then came time to unwrap the Christmas present. She stood in front of me as I slowly removed the lingerie. I remember being awestruck over every inch of her body. She was one perfect specimen. Shortly after a good scrubbing in the tub, I got my first Bangkok Slide on the air mattress and had way too much fun in the process. When we finally made over to the bed, I discovered the bonus in my little package from heaven: she had fabulous control over her vaginal muscles and did the penis grip on me. Oooo laaa laaaa. My eyes are glazing over just sitting here thinking about it again. Needless to say, she was an extremely good lay. The session went 90 minutes, and I got two pops out of it. I giddily stumbled out into the Bangkok night with that weak-kneed, tingly “god I just had a great fuck” feeling I get when I, well, have a great fuck.

Gentleman, from that time on, my soul was sold down the river. I could not wait to see what other delights awaited me, not only in Bangkok, but everywhere else in the world as well. May 31st is indeed an historic date in my life.

The funny thing is, despite the detailed notes I keep, I never got the name of the massage parlor. I was so preoccupied with other matters that I never noticed the name or grabbed a card. To this day, I don’t know which one it was. I’m still searching for it. One of my quests is to visit every parlor north of Sukhumvit Road so that I can locate it again.

And there the tale ends, as I lay down my pen and bid you all a good night.

Murasakiwhoisfeelingverynostalgic

I really enjoyed this, Murasaki.

A few escort services and local massage parlors got me in the right frame of mind just out of high school, and I stayed with that until I hit Europe about 22 years later. I was totally amazed at the sexual attitudes over there, and got wrapped up with a beautiful French girl for about two years.

Had to leave Europe for work back in the states for about 6 more years, so limited myself to U.S escorts. Headed back to Europe again, but still no knowledge of the FKK clubs or other scenes outside of escorts or sw's.

I was having dinner one night with some co-workers who were working out of Miami travelling to South America all the time. I asked them about South America, and they bent my ear for the next two hours. Made the decision right then and there to travel to South America, and have not regretted it one bit. This was about 1996, and found the various travel boards such as this one around 1998.

It has been a great ride.

Enjoy the life Gentlemen,

Moondog

So Murasaki, you have been a Lonely Planet type of guy from way back when. I suspected as much, from the moment you were "trekking" around Chiang Mai and did the rescue thing.

Thanks Sabio. And LAdude, it goes back much farther than that. I bought my first LP in 1991. In hindsight, I look back and cringe at some of the mongering opportunities I missed. Macau, Hong Kong, Singapore, all in the early 90's.... Sigh. At least I was getting loads of free Japanese at the time.

I can understand Hong Kong and Singapore, but how could anyone miss mongering opportunties in Macau?? What were you doing there, spending all your time playing rat-ta-tat-tat at some of the forts?

(Message edited by LAguy on August 30, 2004)

I plead guilty to sheer ignorance of mongering at the time. At that age, it had never occurred to me to pay for sex. Incredibly foolish in hindsight, but you can't change the past. And as a matter of fact, I DID visit several of the forts that first trip...