I got off the tube at Leicester Square and walked through Chinatown to Soho. When I got to the walk up in Frith Street that I was looking for the door was open. Even though it was just before midday. Usually I have something to eat in Soho before I see a girl but I thought I'm here now so I might as well go up.
I could see the name of the girl I was looking for. Alina, who I have heard good things about but not seen before. I knocked on the door and after a few seconds a voice came down the stairs saying she's not there yet. It was Alina's maid who was in the other flat. I asked when I should come back and she said half an hour.
That's OK I thought, I can go and have something to eat and a coffee. I walked along Frith Street past Bar Italia. I always have a look at the people sitting outside to see if there is anyone I recognize. JoAnne Good and her dog Matilda go there and apparently a well-known American actor (whose name I forget) likes to go there. I saw the musician Suggs enjoying a cup of coffee.
I went to a nearby Pret A Manger further up Frith Street and had a latte and something to eat. I read a newspaper and felt more relaxed. Walking back I saw Suggs again just getting up. I passed him on the pavement.
Back at the walk up the maid was in the doorway on her mobile. She was trying to phone Alina to see where she was. Then Alina came up the stairs, saying she was sorry she was late. We went into the bedroom and she took the money from me, £20, and went out. I took off my clothes and lay on the bed. I don't think I had been in this room before. It was small and had mirrors on the ceiling and by the bed.
Alina took her time coming back into the room, but I was happy, looking at myself in the mirrors. She came back in, wearing what looked like her bra and panties, and busied herself with paper towels and stuff. I noticed her big breasts as well as her pretty face. Then she went out again.
This reminded me of something similar that had happened in Green's Court a couple of years ago. I was on the stairway about midday and a beautiful Italian-looking woman came up the stairs and went into the flat, talking to the maid about transport delays. I wish that I had seen her. I would have like to have helped her take her clothes off, open up her legs and given her oral sex. I don't usually give oral sex, I think about what the previous punters have done to her that day. I know the prostitutes wash their genitals, but even so.
Alina came back into the room again. I asked her if I could give her oral sex but she said no. Alina is young and pretty, with a nice figure and big breasts. I can see why people like her. Maybe I'm getting used to being with beautiful women. Like most of the young ones I couldn't really communicate with her.
She put a condom on and gave me an energetic suck. I got erect and I looked in the mirrors at her head bobbing up and down. But soon my ten minutes were up.
I had already decided that I wanted to see two or three women that day. I don't usually do this. Maybe it would have been better if I had spent £60 for half an hour with one woman than £20 for ten minutes with 3 different women. But when you have the choice of so many beautiful women, sometimes you feel like a fox in a chicken coop or a nursery.
I wanted to see a real woman so I went to see Mimi in Green's Court. Mimi is Polish. She is tall and not too slender, how I like them. She has a pretty face and shoulder length curly blonde hair. I got Mimi to lie on the bed with her legs apart. I knelt between her legs and played with my willy while looking at her pussy. It didn't take long before I was erect and she put a condom on.
I don't always fuck the women I see in Soho, but there is something about Mimi. She's very sultry. Because she is tall my head was next to hers and her lovely hair. Without me asking her to, she started encouraging me, saying things like "Fuck my pussy, darling. Come on, fuck it". It was really lovely, but I can't come like that. When I got tired and started to lose my erection I stopped.
Sometimes it's difficult to believe that a man can have sex with a woman who looks like a movie star for only £20.
A few hours later I decided to go and see Sandy. Sandy was in a good mood, friendly and chatty. The last time I saw Sandy I thought she was really beautiful. I compared her to Eva Longoria. I was surprised this time that she did not seem quite so beautiful. I think there are some women who are sometimes really beautiful and other times not quite so beautiful. She was still lovely though.
She asked me what I would like and I said I would like a hand job. She said she would only charge me £20 for that. Usually £25 is the minimum for the women at 4 Old Compton Street. I asked her what she had been doing that day. She told me she had pissed on a man, had beaten another one. I can't remember all the details but she said something like "And then I put on a uniform and I was a schoolgirl". She likes all that kinky stuff. I was pleased that I'm not the only pervert that sees her.
I had forgotten that Sandy allows fingering. She let me put a finger in her pussy. She said she does Wednesdays and Fridays but that's going to change. She said something about a beauticians course she was doing or wanted to do and she wants to work around that. She seems to have her life sorted out. I shall see Sandy again.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
angels
In March last year I wrote a blog post 'encounters with women with problems'. I wrote about a young woman who I saw in the street near where I live. She looked as if she was about to collapse and I went over to see if she was OK. I have seen her three times in the street since then but I haven't had the opportunity to speak to her.
I have also recently seen the other woman I talked about in the post. The one in Soho. She looked and sounded different from the other times I have seen her. I bought her something to eat. She recognized me but didn't seem pleased to see me and didn't want to talk much. She seemed more 'normal' than before, maybe they've changed her medication or something.
I talked to another young woman I saw in the street. The first time I saw Tracy was in the centre of Croydon. She was stopping people and asking them for money. I asked her why and she said that she needed money for somewhere to sleep that night. I mentioned that she didn't look very happy. I gave her a couple of quid and told her that the next time she saw me she could ask me again.
Weeks later I saw her outside the supermarket near where I live asking people for money. I didn't speak to her then. She came up to me in the street one day and I had a conversation with her. She said she was staying in a bed and breakfast hotel in that street. I asked her if she knew Trina and she said "Yes, I know Trina". Trina is a local drug addict that I have talked about in a previous post.
Tracy was quite scruffy-looking but she didn't look like and addict. She wasn't skinny. She is reasonably attractive. I haven't seen Tracy for a few weeks so I guess she must have moved on. If I had seen her again I would have asked her if she wanted anthing to eat and taken her to a local cafe.
You might think that I would have wanted to take Tracy back to my flat and have sex with her. I would only have done that if I thought it wouldn't have harmed her. I would have encouraged her not to go down the same route as Trina. I would have tried to help her see that she has an alternative to that.
If I thought that having sex with her would have made her think less of herself then I would not have done it. However, to a lot of these women having sex is no big deal. If a woman is on benefits and has nothing to do all day, then spending an hour having sex one afternoon with a nice man and getting £20 or £30 for it and a cup of tea after is something quite attractive. Or I could have photographed her.
Trina sent me a text message recently. It said "Do you remember me?". I didn't reply to her because I don't want to see her again. I don't even know if it was her, it could have been one of her male addict associates hoping to rob me.
Whenever I go somewhere that I may meet a prostitute I am hoping that I might meet an 'angel'. This is my word for a particular type of girl, someone rare. I have only met a few angels in the years I have been going to see prostitutes. I can't fully explain what makes a girl an angel. An angel is pretty, feminine and graceful.
I met one on Tooting Bec Common a couple of years ago. Her name was Louise. I was sitting on a bench and she came up to me on her bike. I had already been with a woman so I didn't want to take Louise into the bushes. I should have done, and got her phone number too.
She rode off saying she couldn't believe there were no punters around. When I walked off I saw her again. She asked me if I could give her a couple of pounds. I gave her all my loose change and then I gave her a big hug. She seemed to like that. She had said she was a regular on the common but I have not seen her since.
A few years ago I was in Liverpool and I passed a beautiful girl standing on a corner of Hope Street near the Anglican cathedral. There used to be loads of prostitutes near there. I went into the cathedral gardens and sat on a bench. She walked past me with a man and gave me a big smile. I decided to follow them from a distance. They went into a shrubby part of the gardens. At first I thought I'd lost them but then I saw them embracing against a tree. She saw me and I hastily went off, thinking the man might get angry and confront me. Never saw her again.
When I went to my dentist there used to be an angel there, a dental assistant. One day I saw my dentist and I thought she used the acronym 'DP' when talking to her assistant. I was interested because DP means something very rude in pornographic videos. Just before I left the dentist I asked this girl who was behind the desk "Do you know what 'DP' means?". The look on her face, of suprise and amusement, told me she knew what it meant. I said that I thought the dentist had said 'DP' and I didn't know what it meant. Apparently there is no dental term DP.
I don't think she's there now. If I see her behind the desk again I will say to the other assistant "Do you know what DP means?". When she says no, I'll say "She knows what it means" and then leave.
I have also recently seen the other woman I talked about in the post. The one in Soho. She looked and sounded different from the other times I have seen her. I bought her something to eat. She recognized me but didn't seem pleased to see me and didn't want to talk much. She seemed more 'normal' than before, maybe they've changed her medication or something.
I talked to another young woman I saw in the street. The first time I saw Tracy was in the centre of Croydon. She was stopping people and asking them for money. I asked her why and she said that she needed money for somewhere to sleep that night. I mentioned that she didn't look very happy. I gave her a couple of quid and told her that the next time she saw me she could ask me again.
Weeks later I saw her outside the supermarket near where I live asking people for money. I didn't speak to her then. She came up to me in the street one day and I had a conversation with her. She said she was staying in a bed and breakfast hotel in that street. I asked her if she knew Trina and she said "Yes, I know Trina". Trina is a local drug addict that I have talked about in a previous post.
Tracy was quite scruffy-looking but she didn't look like and addict. She wasn't skinny. She is reasonably attractive. I haven't seen Tracy for a few weeks so I guess she must have moved on. If I had seen her again I would have asked her if she wanted anthing to eat and taken her to a local cafe.
You might think that I would have wanted to take Tracy back to my flat and have sex with her. I would only have done that if I thought it wouldn't have harmed her. I would have encouraged her not to go down the same route as Trina. I would have tried to help her see that she has an alternative to that.
If I thought that having sex with her would have made her think less of herself then I would not have done it. However, to a lot of these women having sex is no big deal. If a woman is on benefits and has nothing to do all day, then spending an hour having sex one afternoon with a nice man and getting £20 or £30 for it and a cup of tea after is something quite attractive. Or I could have photographed her.
Trina sent me a text message recently. It said "Do you remember me?". I didn't reply to her because I don't want to see her again. I don't even know if it was her, it could have been one of her male addict associates hoping to rob me.
Whenever I go somewhere that I may meet a prostitute I am hoping that I might meet an 'angel'. This is my word for a particular type of girl, someone rare. I have only met a few angels in the years I have been going to see prostitutes. I can't fully explain what makes a girl an angel. An angel is pretty, feminine and graceful.
I met one on Tooting Bec Common a couple of years ago. Her name was Louise. I was sitting on a bench and she came up to me on her bike. I had already been with a woman so I didn't want to take Louise into the bushes. I should have done, and got her phone number too.
She rode off saying she couldn't believe there were no punters around. When I walked off I saw her again. She asked me if I could give her a couple of pounds. I gave her all my loose change and then I gave her a big hug. She seemed to like that. She had said she was a regular on the common but I have not seen her since.
A few years ago I was in Liverpool and I passed a beautiful girl standing on a corner of Hope Street near the Anglican cathedral. There used to be loads of prostitutes near there. I went into the cathedral gardens and sat on a bench. She walked past me with a man and gave me a big smile. I decided to follow them from a distance. They went into a shrubby part of the gardens. At first I thought I'd lost them but then I saw them embracing against a tree. She saw me and I hastily went off, thinking the man might get angry and confront me. Never saw her again.
When I went to my dentist there used to be an angel there, a dental assistant. One day I saw my dentist and I thought she used the acronym 'DP' when talking to her assistant. I was interested because DP means something very rude in pornographic videos. Just before I left the dentist I asked this girl who was behind the desk "Do you know what 'DP' means?". The look on her face, of suprise and amusement, told me she knew what it meant. I said that I thought the dentist had said 'DP' and I didn't know what it meant. Apparently there is no dental term DP.
I don't think she's there now. If I see her behind the desk again I will say to the other assistant "Do you know what DP means?". When she says no, I'll say "She knows what it means" and then leave.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Elise Langham - missing girl
I have been going to Soho for years and two or three times I noticed a scruffy ill-looking girl in the street, usually in the company of other people. She looked like an addict but I don't know if she was a 'street girl'. She never propositioned me. I wouldn't have gone with her, even though she was quite pretty. I would have talked to her though, and maybe bought her something to eat.
Then just recently I saw something in the window of the police office in Peter Street in Soho. There were pictures of several people, their names and details of the ASBOs they had been given. I recognised one of the photos. It was the girl I had seen. I'm pretty sure it is the same girl.
It said that she had been given an Anti-Social Behaviour Order for drugs offenses and prohibited from entering the West End or Camden for 5 years. It said this was to 'protect residents and businesses from further anti-social acts'.
I looked up the name on Google and there are several articles from newspapers from a few years ago talking about a missing girl. She had left home and people were looking for her. I got the picture below from a BBC news site.
Poster appeal for missing Elise
Police searching for a "vulnerable" 16-year-old girl are putting up posters in an attempt to find her, a month after she disappeared.
It seems strange to me that the authorities thought that the best way to deal with her was with an ASBO. Isn't there some better way of dealing with girls like this than just banning them from where they live for years? If she breaks the terms of her ASBO she will go to jail.
It could be that something radical has to happen before she can turn her life around, and the ASBO might be it. Maybe she is back in her home town or with her family and she needs to know her old way of life is no longer open to her. I doubt that this kind of approach to the problem will work though.
The little poster in Peter Street did not say she was a thief. I don't think she had been stealing from local 'residents and businesses'. So I think that to say she was anti-social and that the community needs protecting from her is just wrong. It's just another example of how police are misusing Anti-Social Behaviour laws to stop people from doing things that they don't like. If it helped them it wouldn't be so bad. But this naming-and-shaming zero-tolerance attitude isn't intended to help people and probably won't.
Then just recently I saw something in the window of the police office in Peter Street in Soho. There were pictures of several people, their names and details of the ASBOs they had been given. I recognised one of the photos. It was the girl I had seen. I'm pretty sure it is the same girl.
It said that she had been given an Anti-Social Behaviour Order for drugs offenses and prohibited from entering the West End or Camden for 5 years. It said this was to 'protect residents and businesses from further anti-social acts'.
I looked up the name on Google and there are several articles from newspapers from a few years ago talking about a missing girl. She had left home and people were looking for her. I got the picture below from a BBC news site.
Poster appeal for missing ElisePolice searching for a "vulnerable" 16-year-old girl are putting up posters in an attempt to find her, a month after she disappeared.
It seems strange to me that the authorities thought that the best way to deal with her was with an ASBO. Isn't there some better way of dealing with girls like this than just banning them from where they live for years? If she breaks the terms of her ASBO she will go to jail.
It could be that something radical has to happen before she can turn her life around, and the ASBO might be it. Maybe she is back in her home town or with her family and she needs to know her old way of life is no longer open to her. I doubt that this kind of approach to the problem will work though.
The little poster in Peter Street did not say she was a thief. I don't think she had been stealing from local 'residents and businesses'. So I think that to say she was anti-social and that the community needs protecting from her is just wrong. It's just another example of how police are misusing Anti-Social Behaviour laws to stop people from doing things that they don't like. If it helped them it wouldn't be so bad. But this naming-and-shaming zero-tolerance attitude isn't intended to help people and probably won't.
documentary about street girls
I like to watch documentaries about drug addiction and prostitution. A few years ago I watched one about three girls who lived in Whitechapel in the East End of London. It was part of a series called Wasted. Stacey and her two friends Laura and Kelly were homeless and it showed them squatting first in Tower House, a large derelict building, and then in a nearby house.
They were addicted to crack cocaine and heroin but the documentary didn't seem to mention the crack cocaine. I think this may be because it is easier to have sympathy for a heroin addict than a crack addict. We think of heroin addicts as being forced to do things to avoid withdrawal symptoms. There are no withdrawal symptoms from crack.
Addicts can be prescribed methadone, which removes withdrawal symptoms. In Switzerland doctors can prescribe heroin, and this seems to get better results. Although I am against drugs, I would support something similar in Britain. Obviously, a heroin addict who is prescribed methadone or heroin is still an addict even if they stop buying heroin on the street. But at least their prescription is pure and unadulterated. Heroin addicts frequently die because they can't easily control the dose they take. And they won't need to get involved in prostitution or theft to pay for heroin. In their own time they can reduce the dose.
Crack cocaine is a different type of drug and I can't see how prescribing crack could work.
Laura had something wrong with her arm which meant she couldn't brush her hair easily. I expect it is quite difficult for homeless addicts to get to see a doctor. It was very sad to see and it makes you want to try to sort them out with their health problems by taking them to a doctor, dentist and optician. It shouldn't be that difficult to get them somewhere to stay, perhaps a hostel to begin with, get benefits sorted out and a methadone script.
Laura talked about her life. She said that she got into trouble early on but it was when her grandmother died that her problems really started. Laura was blamed by her family for the death of her Nan. They said the stress of Laura getting into trouble made her grandmother ill and caused her death. Laura wasn't allowed to attend the funeral although she loved her Nan. Her parents rejected her.
Stacey wrote poems about her life. One of them was quite powerful. However, through looking on the Internet I can see that she did not actually write it. She had a version of a poem possibly originally written by Larry Jackson for a woman called Miriam. It is called My Name is Cocaine. This is my own version.
My name is Cocaine
Coke for short
I came to this land
Without a passport
Ever since then
I've been hunted and sought
I'll make a student forget his books
I'll make a beauty neglect her looks
I'll make a teacher forget how to teach
I'll make a preacher not want to preach
I'll take your money and make you dirt poor
I'll take your sister and make her a whore
I'm a compulsion too tough for the man
I'm the reason for the battering ram
If you decide to climb on my back
You'd better ride me well
For the white horse of Crack
Will take you to hell.
There's one problem with this poem and that is that 'coke' is a street name for ordinary cocaine, whereas 'crack' is short for crack cocaine. Although coke and crack are both cocaine they are not the same, crack being much stronger and much more addictive.
They were addicted to crack cocaine and heroin but the documentary didn't seem to mention the crack cocaine. I think this may be because it is easier to have sympathy for a heroin addict than a crack addict. We think of heroin addicts as being forced to do things to avoid withdrawal symptoms. There are no withdrawal symptoms from crack.
Addicts can be prescribed methadone, which removes withdrawal symptoms. In Switzerland doctors can prescribe heroin, and this seems to get better results. Although I am against drugs, I would support something similar in Britain. Obviously, a heroin addict who is prescribed methadone or heroin is still an addict even if they stop buying heroin on the street. But at least their prescription is pure and unadulterated. Heroin addicts frequently die because they can't easily control the dose they take. And they won't need to get involved in prostitution or theft to pay for heroin. In their own time they can reduce the dose.
Crack cocaine is a different type of drug and I can't see how prescribing crack could work.
Laura had something wrong with her arm which meant she couldn't brush her hair easily. I expect it is quite difficult for homeless addicts to get to see a doctor. It was very sad to see and it makes you want to try to sort them out with their health problems by taking them to a doctor, dentist and optician. It shouldn't be that difficult to get them somewhere to stay, perhaps a hostel to begin with, get benefits sorted out and a methadone script.
Laura talked about her life. She said that she got into trouble early on but it was when her grandmother died that her problems really started. Laura was blamed by her family for the death of her Nan. They said the stress of Laura getting into trouble made her grandmother ill and caused her death. Laura wasn't allowed to attend the funeral although she loved her Nan. Her parents rejected her.
Stacey wrote poems about her life. One of them was quite powerful. However, through looking on the Internet I can see that she did not actually write it. She had a version of a poem possibly originally written by Larry Jackson for a woman called Miriam. It is called My Name is Cocaine. This is my own version.
My name is Cocaine
Coke for short
I came to this land
Without a passport
Ever since then
I've been hunted and sought
I'll make a student forget his books
I'll make a beauty neglect her looks
I'll make a teacher forget how to teach
I'll make a preacher not want to preach
I'll take your money and make you dirt poor
I'll take your sister and make her a whore
I'm a compulsion too tough for the man
I'm the reason for the battering ram
If you decide to climb on my back
You'd better ride me well
For the white horse of Crack
Will take you to hell.
There's one problem with this poem and that is that 'coke' is a street name for ordinary cocaine, whereas 'crack' is short for crack cocaine. Although coke and crack are both cocaine they are not the same, crack being much stronger and much more addictive.
Friday, May 21, 2010
strangest thing happened in Soho today
I got off the bus near Tottenham Court Road and walked through Soho Square, the little park. It's so sunny and warm today and the park was packed with people sitting on the grass. There were lots of girls wearing not much clothing. I would think they are mostly office workers on their lunch break and tourists.
I'm sure that some of the office girls were glad of a chance to take the weight of their feet. Not something that would be so much of a problem for the sex workers of that area. They don't get sore feet, I would guess. Not feet.
I walked along Greek Street and noticed that both Amy and Ivy are at number 8 today. Amy is the girl I mentioned in my last blog. I was pleased because I like both of them. I thought I might end up seeing one of them, but I wanted to see if Alina is at Frith Street. Alina is a girl I have not seen before. I tried to see her when she was in Wardour Street but she had moved on by the time I went there. Now a recent PunterNet report is saying that she is at Frith Street on Wednesdays. I could have gone to see her on Wednesday but I wanted to come to Soho today.
I went up to the first floor flat and there was a different name on the door. I went up to the second floor flat and there was no name on the door but a description of the girl. So I decided to knock and ask. The maid answered the door and I asked what the name of the girl is. It was not Alina, and I asked her if she knew when Alina works there. She said she didn't know. The girl popped her head around the door and smiled. She didn't look very appealing to me, quite tarty.
Bar Italia was nearby and I noticed that there were some unoccupied chairs and tables outside. This is not usual so I ordered a cappuccino and sat a while looking at people walking along the street. I don't understand why some people think Bar Italia is so great. My coffee cost quite a bit, didn't taste anything special and didn't seem very hot.
I wanted to check if either Ritzy or Mimi is at Green's Court. Ritzy is black British and Mimi is Polish. I have been with both of these women and they are very sexy. They were not there so I walked along Berwick Street through the market. I looked to see if Chelsea is at 20 or 70A but she wasn't. Chelsea is an English woman that I saw a few years ago and I remembered I liked her.
I was looking forward to seeing Amy. She is good fun. I rang the bell and the maid answered. She said Amy was busy and that I should come back later. I said how much later but she didn't give me an answer. She asked me if I had seen Amy before and I said yes. Amy then popped her head around the door and peered at me.
So she wasn't busy at all, she had been waiting in the kitchen area. She didn't seem pleased to see me and said "Are you going to stay this time?". I think I remember the maid might have asked the same question. I was puzzled and said yes.
She took me into the bedroom and asked me what I wanted. I said I would like oral sex and she said that she didn't do that. This puzzled me even more. I've had oral sex from Amy, without a condom, a few times now. Even if she had thought I meant me giving oral sex to her, I know she does that because I gave her oral sex once. I don't often do that but if I know I am the first punter of the day I quite like it.
So I said I would go. And I did. I was wondering what the hell was going on and why were they both behaving in such a strange way towards me. At first I thought maybe she had read my blog and what I had said about her and didn't like it. I had not used her name though. But why would she have asked me if I was going to stay this time?
The only thing I can think of is that there is someone who looks like me who is a time-waster. He comes into the flat, maybe waits to see the girl, and then leaves when he gets a look at her. I have never done this.
So I went straight up the stairs and saw Ivy. Ivy was OK with me, although she looked a bit bored. Usually when I see Ivy I stay for 20 minutes and she wanks me off. I have to be in the right mood for this to work though. I wasn't in the right mood, even before the puzzling experience with Amy. So I paid for 10 minutes. I thought I might try fucking her this time, but we ended up with her wanking me.
It was pleasant enough. I didn't come, because even when I am in the right mood it takes 20 minutes. I don't mind not coming though, it's all good fun. I felt like seeing another girl, so I thought I would go to Old Compton Street and see if Ritzy or Mimi are there. Ritzy and Mimi some days work at Green's Court and some days at Old Compton Street.
I could have gone to any of the walk ups and tried my luck in finding a woman who I liked. I have done this, but I wan't in the mood for that. I wanted someone that I have had a pleasant experience with in the past.
At Old Compton Street I saw that Paris and Sandy were there. I have seen both of these women. I didn't want to see Paris. I don't usually go for blondes (although Mimi is a blonde). Paris is also young, and I've lost interest a bit in the younger ones.
I have seen Sandy two or three times before but that was years ago. A year or two ago I did want to see her again. I had waited in her flat with the maid, but when she I caught a glimpse of her she looked a bit rough to me. I told the maid I didn't want to wait and that I would come back later. I didn't come back. In all the years I have been going to Soho I have only done this twice, as far as I can remember, with Sandy and a girl called Chloe.
I decided to give Sandy a go. She was busy so I sat in a room with the maid. There was a rack of pornographic magazines and I had a look at them. Sandy came out of the bedroom, gave me a smile, and asked if I was trying to keep myself horny. She looked really beautiful and in a good mood. When she had got what she came into the room for she went back into the bedroom.
I was still trying to understand why Amy and her maid had behaved so strangely towards me. It had occurred to me that prostitutes might not like men who see them time and time again but only for 10 minutes each time. I thought maybe that a 10 minute session is meant only so that the man can see what the woman is like, but that they make most of their money from 20 minute sessions or longer. That might explain why in some places they charge £50 for 20 minutes, more than double the £20 for 10 minutes. A 10 minute session is like a sample, they know they can tempt the punters in but they like men who stay longer.
The maid was engrossed in her puzzle magazine but I asked her if they don't like men who come back time and time again but only spend 10 minutes. She assured me that lots of men do that and that's no problem at all. I explained to her what had happened with Amy, and she said there are men like that, time-wasters, and Amy was probably confusing me with one of them.
When Sandy was ready for me she invited me into the bedroom. I told her I wanted to spend 10 minutes with her. At this place it is £25. She went out of the room and I took my clothes off and lay on the bed. She took some time coming back into the room and when she did she appologised and said that her boss was on the phone. I didn't know they had bosses. Her boss is a woman.
Sandy was wearing a lovely white bikini type of underwear. It showed off her lovely tan, and when she took it off I could see that it was an all over tan. She has straight black hair and she has the same kind of Mediterranean beauty as Eva Longoria. She is tall too. She reminded me of the beautiful Italian woman who works in the café that I sometimes go to. I had been thinking if only I can find una puttana who looks like this Italian woman I would be happy. And Sandy fits the bill for that, although she is Spanish and not Italian.
She was very chatty and got me erect by a blow job. She asked me if I wanted to do doggy style and I said no get on top of me. She looked wonderful and she bounced about on top of me. I put my hand on her bum, on her hips, around her waist and held her breasts. Then she lay on the bed and I got on top of her and fucked her. Finally she tried to bring me to orgasm with a hand job. Her face was close to mine and she closed her eyes, still smiling. It was then that I thought this is a really beautiful woman that I must see again (and again).
I said I wanted to come back and spend half an hour with her. She told me it would be £75. Just 3 times the 10 minute price that I had paid. She said that if I did that she wouldn't charge me the extra £10 for 'water sports'. We had discussed some of her 'extras'. She said she would piss on me if I wanted and I asked her if she would blow cigarette smoke in my face. She is a smoker and she would do it.
One of the little fantasies that I have had for a long time is to do with Italy, with Naples specifically. I have never been to Naples, but I imagine it is a seedy lived-in kind of place, but with some beauty. I imagine Marseille and Barcelona to be like that too (Sandy is Catalan). I've been to Paris (the city as well as the girl) but Paris is too pretty.
In my fantasy I follow a whore down an alleyway. She is wearing a black skirt and stockings. She walks onto some wasteland, looks round to see if anyone is watching her, lifts up her skirt and squats. I imagine her at the top of a few steps leading to a doorway at the back of a delapidated building. The piss runs down the steps, forming little puddles and rivulets. I can see her black pubic hair - she has lots of it - and the slit of her cunt. No panties. She is smoking a cigarette and she blows the smoke in my direction. I am close enough that I can smell the smoke and the piss. Then she sees me watching her. A look of comtempt comes over her face as she watches me but she continues pissing. Sometimes I imagine two whores pissing together and smoking, talking to each other in the earthy Neapolitan dialect and laughing.
Sandy was wearing stockings when I saw her. Do you think she would wear a black skirt for me too?
I'm sure that some of the office girls were glad of a chance to take the weight of their feet. Not something that would be so much of a problem for the sex workers of that area. They don't get sore feet, I would guess. Not feet.
I walked along Greek Street and noticed that both Amy and Ivy are at number 8 today. Amy is the girl I mentioned in my last blog. I was pleased because I like both of them. I thought I might end up seeing one of them, but I wanted to see if Alina is at Frith Street. Alina is a girl I have not seen before. I tried to see her when she was in Wardour Street but she had moved on by the time I went there. Now a recent PunterNet report is saying that she is at Frith Street on Wednesdays. I could have gone to see her on Wednesday but I wanted to come to Soho today.
I went up to the first floor flat and there was a different name on the door. I went up to the second floor flat and there was no name on the door but a description of the girl. So I decided to knock and ask. The maid answered the door and I asked what the name of the girl is. It was not Alina, and I asked her if she knew when Alina works there. She said she didn't know. The girl popped her head around the door and smiled. She didn't look very appealing to me, quite tarty.
Bar Italia was nearby and I noticed that there were some unoccupied chairs and tables outside. This is not usual so I ordered a cappuccino and sat a while looking at people walking along the street. I don't understand why some people think Bar Italia is so great. My coffee cost quite a bit, didn't taste anything special and didn't seem very hot.
I wanted to check if either Ritzy or Mimi is at Green's Court. Ritzy is black British and Mimi is Polish. I have been with both of these women and they are very sexy. They were not there so I walked along Berwick Street through the market. I looked to see if Chelsea is at 20 or 70A but she wasn't. Chelsea is an English woman that I saw a few years ago and I remembered I liked her.
I was looking forward to seeing Amy. She is good fun. I rang the bell and the maid answered. She said Amy was busy and that I should come back later. I said how much later but she didn't give me an answer. She asked me if I had seen Amy before and I said yes. Amy then popped her head around the door and peered at me.
So she wasn't busy at all, she had been waiting in the kitchen area. She didn't seem pleased to see me and said "Are you going to stay this time?". I think I remember the maid might have asked the same question. I was puzzled and said yes.
She took me into the bedroom and asked me what I wanted. I said I would like oral sex and she said that she didn't do that. This puzzled me even more. I've had oral sex from Amy, without a condom, a few times now. Even if she had thought I meant me giving oral sex to her, I know she does that because I gave her oral sex once. I don't often do that but if I know I am the first punter of the day I quite like it.
So I said I would go. And I did. I was wondering what the hell was going on and why were they both behaving in such a strange way towards me. At first I thought maybe she had read my blog and what I had said about her and didn't like it. I had not used her name though. But why would she have asked me if I was going to stay this time?
The only thing I can think of is that there is someone who looks like me who is a time-waster. He comes into the flat, maybe waits to see the girl, and then leaves when he gets a look at her. I have never done this.
So I went straight up the stairs and saw Ivy. Ivy was OK with me, although she looked a bit bored. Usually when I see Ivy I stay for 20 minutes and she wanks me off. I have to be in the right mood for this to work though. I wasn't in the right mood, even before the puzzling experience with Amy. So I paid for 10 minutes. I thought I might try fucking her this time, but we ended up with her wanking me.
It was pleasant enough. I didn't come, because even when I am in the right mood it takes 20 minutes. I don't mind not coming though, it's all good fun. I felt like seeing another girl, so I thought I would go to Old Compton Street and see if Ritzy or Mimi are there. Ritzy and Mimi some days work at Green's Court and some days at Old Compton Street.
I could have gone to any of the walk ups and tried my luck in finding a woman who I liked. I have done this, but I wan't in the mood for that. I wanted someone that I have had a pleasant experience with in the past.
At Old Compton Street I saw that Paris and Sandy were there. I have seen both of these women. I didn't want to see Paris. I don't usually go for blondes (although Mimi is a blonde). Paris is also young, and I've lost interest a bit in the younger ones.
I have seen Sandy two or three times before but that was years ago. A year or two ago I did want to see her again. I had waited in her flat with the maid, but when she I caught a glimpse of her she looked a bit rough to me. I told the maid I didn't want to wait and that I would come back later. I didn't come back. In all the years I have been going to Soho I have only done this twice, as far as I can remember, with Sandy and a girl called Chloe.
I decided to give Sandy a go. She was busy so I sat in a room with the maid. There was a rack of pornographic magazines and I had a look at them. Sandy came out of the bedroom, gave me a smile, and asked if I was trying to keep myself horny. She looked really beautiful and in a good mood. When she had got what she came into the room for she went back into the bedroom.
I was still trying to understand why Amy and her maid had behaved so strangely towards me. It had occurred to me that prostitutes might not like men who see them time and time again but only for 10 minutes each time. I thought maybe that a 10 minute session is meant only so that the man can see what the woman is like, but that they make most of their money from 20 minute sessions or longer. That might explain why in some places they charge £50 for 20 minutes, more than double the £20 for 10 minutes. A 10 minute session is like a sample, they know they can tempt the punters in but they like men who stay longer.
The maid was engrossed in her puzzle magazine but I asked her if they don't like men who come back time and time again but only spend 10 minutes. She assured me that lots of men do that and that's no problem at all. I explained to her what had happened with Amy, and she said there are men like that, time-wasters, and Amy was probably confusing me with one of them.
When Sandy was ready for me she invited me into the bedroom. I told her I wanted to spend 10 minutes with her. At this place it is £25. She went out of the room and I took my clothes off and lay on the bed. She took some time coming back into the room and when she did she appologised and said that her boss was on the phone. I didn't know they had bosses. Her boss is a woman.
Sandy was wearing a lovely white bikini type of underwear. It showed off her lovely tan, and when she took it off I could see that it was an all over tan. She has straight black hair and she has the same kind of Mediterranean beauty as Eva Longoria. She is tall too. She reminded me of the beautiful Italian woman who works in the café that I sometimes go to. I had been thinking if only I can find una puttana who looks like this Italian woman I would be happy. And Sandy fits the bill for that, although she is Spanish and not Italian.
She was very chatty and got me erect by a blow job. She asked me if I wanted to do doggy style and I said no get on top of me. She looked wonderful and she bounced about on top of me. I put my hand on her bum, on her hips, around her waist and held her breasts. Then she lay on the bed and I got on top of her and fucked her. Finally she tried to bring me to orgasm with a hand job. Her face was close to mine and she closed her eyes, still smiling. It was then that I thought this is a really beautiful woman that I must see again (and again).
I said I wanted to come back and spend half an hour with her. She told me it would be £75. Just 3 times the 10 minute price that I had paid. She said that if I did that she wouldn't charge me the extra £10 for 'water sports'. We had discussed some of her 'extras'. She said she would piss on me if I wanted and I asked her if she would blow cigarette smoke in my face. She is a smoker and she would do it.
One of the little fantasies that I have had for a long time is to do with Italy, with Naples specifically. I have never been to Naples, but I imagine it is a seedy lived-in kind of place, but with some beauty. I imagine Marseille and Barcelona to be like that too (Sandy is Catalan). I've been to Paris (the city as well as the girl) but Paris is too pretty.
In my fantasy I follow a whore down an alleyway. She is wearing a black skirt and stockings. She walks onto some wasteland, looks round to see if anyone is watching her, lifts up her skirt and squats. I imagine her at the top of a few steps leading to a doorway at the back of a delapidated building. The piss runs down the steps, forming little puddles and rivulets. I can see her black pubic hair - she has lots of it - and the slit of her cunt. No panties. She is smoking a cigarette and she blows the smoke in my direction. I am close enough that I can smell the smoke and the piss. Then she sees me watching her. A look of comtempt comes over her face as she watches me but she continues pissing. Sometimes I imagine two whores pissing together and smoking, talking to each other in the earthy Neapolitan dialect and laughing.
Sandy was wearing stockings when I saw her. Do you think she would wear a black skirt for me too?
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
two girls in Soho
A couple of weeks ago I was in Soho but I didn't intend to see a prostitute. I was sitting in Soho Square, a pleasant little park near to Oxford Street and Charing Cross Road. I thought to myself that, if I wanted to, in a couple of minutes I could be in a flat with a naked girl.
I had a particular girl in mind. I won't say her name. I have seen her several times before and I know that she doesn't like publicity. We have discussed the issue. She doesn't have any reports on her on PunterNet.com. Also I read something recently by a prostitute where she wrote that she and others don't like that kind of publicity.
If I say that she's the chubbiest sex worker in Soho that I know of, that could be anther reason why she might not like it if I identified her. She's the sort of girl I think I will see sometimes for years into the future so I don't want to annoy her. Someone might tell her that I've put stuff on the internet about her.
I knew that she was there that day because I had walked past her doorway. Then I remembered that someone had written that he had seen her recently and she had lost a lot of weight and was more attractive. I wanted to see what she looked like now, so I went to see her.
We lay on the bed together and we had a cuddle and she played with my willy. She remembered me and we had a nice chat. She told me she had just got back from a holiday in Romania. She had eaten lots of food and had put on weight. She looked just the same as I had remembered her.
She said that when she is in Romania she is a good girl, but when she comes to London she is very naughty. I wasn't in the mood to do anything with her that day. Other times I have been to see her she has given me oral sex without a condom. I would like to do that again, and I would like to fuck her too. I like the idea of being on top of her. I wouldn't say she is fat, but nicely rounded.
She asked me what my sexual fantasies are. I couldn't think of anything to say to her then but I have thought about what I want to say to her and what I want to do to her in the future. I have thought up a little game that men and women can play together based on a pornographic video I saw. I call it 'mermaids'. If I get to play mermaids with her I'll tell you all about it.
As I was leaving I saw she had a little collection of pornographic magasines. I thought it would be good next time if we lay on the bed together and looked through them to give us some ideas and get us in the mood.
I have also seen Alena recently. What would have been nice would have been if she had smiled when she saw me, said "Daddy!", and put her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist. Last time I saw her she called me 'Daddy', which I liked. I hadn't asked her to put her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist but I had wanted to.
While I was taking my clothes off Alena got onto the bed on her hands and knees naked. She had her bottom facing me and she started moving it around, like a leopardess on heat. She had done this the last time so I think this is a routine of hers.
I stood next to the bed and asked her to stand up. She put her arms around my neck and then her legs around my waist. I carried her around and then sat on the bed with her on my lap. Then we lay on the bed and she played with my willy. She didn't remember me from last time and I had to prompt her to call me 'Daddy'.
Alena looked even thinner than the last time I had seen her. She looks a bit anorexic. She is definitely the skinniest girl in Soho that I know of. So I went from the chubbiest to the skinniest. I like different types of women, fat or thin, young or older.
I enjoyed being with Alena and I think I will see her again. I can see why other men like her so much. She seems a bit mechanical to me, however. She seems to be following a routine. I wonder what is going on in her mind. She seems quite intelligent. Sometimes I think it would be interesting to say something to make her angry. I always like to be pleasant to them, though, and I like Alena too much.
I had a particular girl in mind. I won't say her name. I have seen her several times before and I know that she doesn't like publicity. We have discussed the issue. She doesn't have any reports on her on PunterNet.com. Also I read something recently by a prostitute where she wrote that she and others don't like that kind of publicity.
If I say that she's the chubbiest sex worker in Soho that I know of, that could be anther reason why she might not like it if I identified her. She's the sort of girl I think I will see sometimes for years into the future so I don't want to annoy her. Someone might tell her that I've put stuff on the internet about her.
I knew that she was there that day because I had walked past her doorway. Then I remembered that someone had written that he had seen her recently and she had lost a lot of weight and was more attractive. I wanted to see what she looked like now, so I went to see her.
We lay on the bed together and we had a cuddle and she played with my willy. She remembered me and we had a nice chat. She told me she had just got back from a holiday in Romania. She had eaten lots of food and had put on weight. She looked just the same as I had remembered her.
She said that when she is in Romania she is a good girl, but when she comes to London she is very naughty. I wasn't in the mood to do anything with her that day. Other times I have been to see her she has given me oral sex without a condom. I would like to do that again, and I would like to fuck her too. I like the idea of being on top of her. I wouldn't say she is fat, but nicely rounded.
She asked me what my sexual fantasies are. I couldn't think of anything to say to her then but I have thought about what I want to say to her and what I want to do to her in the future. I have thought up a little game that men and women can play together based on a pornographic video I saw. I call it 'mermaids'. If I get to play mermaids with her I'll tell you all about it.
As I was leaving I saw she had a little collection of pornographic magasines. I thought it would be good next time if we lay on the bed together and looked through them to give us some ideas and get us in the mood.
I have also seen Alena recently. What would have been nice would have been if she had smiled when she saw me, said "Daddy!", and put her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist. Last time I saw her she called me 'Daddy', which I liked. I hadn't asked her to put her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist but I had wanted to.
While I was taking my clothes off Alena got onto the bed on her hands and knees naked. She had her bottom facing me and she started moving it around, like a leopardess on heat. She had done this the last time so I think this is a routine of hers.
I stood next to the bed and asked her to stand up. She put her arms around my neck and then her legs around my waist. I carried her around and then sat on the bed with her on my lap. Then we lay on the bed and she played with my willy. She didn't remember me from last time and I had to prompt her to call me 'Daddy'.
Alena looked even thinner than the last time I had seen her. She looks a bit anorexic. She is definitely the skinniest girl in Soho that I know of. So I went from the chubbiest to the skinniest. I like different types of women, fat or thin, young or older.
I enjoyed being with Alena and I think I will see her again. I can see why other men like her so much. She seems a bit mechanical to me, however. She seems to be following a routine. I wonder what is going on in her mind. She seems quite intelligent. Sometimes I think it would be interesting to say something to make her angry. I always like to be pleasant to them, though, and I like Alena too much.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
a nice surprise in Soho yesterday
The first thing I did when I got to Soho yesterday was to go to Bar Italia, an independent coffee shop in Frith Street. I had not been there before but I have heard JoAnne Good go on about it on her BBC Radio London show. I had a latte and it did taste very nice. When I want to buy a coffee I usually only have Pret A Manger latte or their 99p filter coffee. I shall go to Bar Italia again, although it is a bit expensive.
I decided I wanted to see Alena again. I have mentioned Alena in a previous post. I said that it had been a soulless experience being with her, and how it had reminded me of when I had tried prostitution in Soho in the 80s but given it up.
I went to 26 Wardour Street a while ago looking for a girl called Alina. Someone had given a description of her and recommended her. She wasn't there and somebody told me she didn't work there anymore. I decided to go to nearby Romilly Street to see if Meena was there. She wasn't, but a sign said there was a girl called Alena. I thought maybe Alena and Alina could be the same girl. I knocked on the door and the maid opened it.
She encouraged me to take a look at the girl. Alena was sitting on the bed, a small skinny girl with dark hair. She gave me a big smile. She seemed to fit the description of Alina, but I didn't think it was the same girl and I decided not to stay.
As I was walking along the road I remembered that I had been with a woman called Alena at Romilly Street before, but that this woman had had blonde hair. I don't especially like blondes and she hadn't been that pleasant. I remembered that she had held up one finger to emphasise that she only did one position for the money I had given her. And yet I kept hearing good reports about her on PunterNet.
So yesterday I decided to give it another go. And it was one of my most pleasurable experiences in Soho. I paid 20 pounds for 10 minutes with Alena. I asked her to give me a hand job. While I undressed I said to her that I thought I might have been with her before, but that the girl I had seen had blonde hair. She said it was most probably her, she had had blonde hair but had changed it.
I lay on the bed and she started playing with my willy. She had a nice smile and seemed very relaxed. I asked if I could see her pussy and she got onto all fours with her bottom sticking up in the air. She had an all over tan. I gently pinched her buttocks and held her labia apart to get a good look inside her pussy.
I said that she looked like a teenager. She had small breasts and they were lovely. She smiled and thanked me for the complement. I said that she looked like a schoolgirl. I asked her if she had a schoolgirl uniform and she said no. I gently smacked her bottom. I didn't want to do it too hard or she might have wanted me to pay extra. Paris charges extra for spanking.
Then she did something that no other sex worker has done for me, something I hadn't asked her to do, something that I would not have asked a sex worker to do. She looked deep into my eyes and said "Fuck me, Daddy", and then "Let me see your sperm, Daddy". She wasn't doing it as a joke and she wasn't doing it in the bored mechanical way that some sex workers do. She was playing a role.
I expect that there will be some people who will be shocked by this and will see it as evidence of my depravity. I can imagine a radical feminist or a police officer reading my blog, not because they think like me but because they want to find out what is going on.
People can have sexual fantasies without wanting those sexual fantasies to come true. I am not interested in having sex with teenagers either above the age of consent or below it. I have never had children and if I did I would not want to have sex with a daughter. I saw a documentary once about feminists and women said that a group of them had discussed their sexual fantasies and had been surprised that a common fantasy for them was rape fantasy.
I was immensely excited by Alena but I only had 10 minutes. Not enough time for me to orgasm. As I was leaving I said to her "I liked it when you called me 'Daddy', I'll remember that for next time". I want to see her again. Now I have seen how willing to please she is, I want her to put her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist. I want to carry her around he room and then sit on the edge of the bed with her on my lap. Like I did with Meena (in the same room).
Sometimes people say "Would you want your daughter to be a whore?". To which I could reply "No, but sometimes I want a whore to be my daughter".
Seriously though, it would not bother me if I had a daughter and she became a prostitute. Better than being a banker or a journalist, more honourable. I don't have the old fashioned contempt for prostitutes. I don't define people by what they do to make their money. It's a question of alternatives. Is it better to have your house repossessed or go on the game? Is it better to be evicted for being unable to pay the rent or sit in the dark because you could not pay your electricity bill?
The best thing in life is to find out the thing that you are good at and that you enjoy doing. Prostitution must always be second best to that because I don't believe any woman actually enjoys the work. She may enjoy the company of other women and obviously the money. But even a nymphomaniac would get tired of doing it so frequently. And they say you should not make a job out of your hobby.
If you can't find something you enjoy and are good at then find something that you dislike less than other types of work. Or something where you can earn the same amount of money in a day as in a whole week of something else. Not everyone enjoys working.
Most women would just hate to do it and many women are tempramentally unsuited to prostitution. They shouldn't do it. Also I worry about things like National Insurance contributions. If these are not getting paid because you are outside the normal system of employment or benefits then it can be difficult to get benefits or a pension. I don't know much about it. I don't like the idea of a woman continuing to be a prostitute when she wants to give it up.
Some women want to make a fortune from prostitution or pornography and they do. Some women want to get a few thousand pounds in the bank to finance what they really want to do with their lives. This happens, but you wouldn't think it if you listened just to radical feminists.
I have been reading the blog of Rebecca Mott who I mentioned in my last post. I found a link on the OBJECT site on the testimonies page. What I was hoping for was her testimony, even though I knew it would not show the reality of prostitution for most sex workers. What I found was a lot of ideological claptrap. She refers to some of the things that supposedly happened to her but gives no details.
I have copied and pasted a few paragraphs to give you a flavour of the sort of rubbish she writes and women in OBJECT seem to belive in.
and this
and this
That's just the problem with people like Rebecca Mott. They don't listen to women involved in prostitution. My advice to them is to go and talk to prostitutes in Soho. Get to know them. Learn their story. Clayton Littlewood and Juliet Peston have done just that and they tell the truth. Clayton is a gay man and so no one can suspect him of being a punter with a vested interest in keeping it going.
Rebecca says she is an anarchist. She also says she goes to church. I didn't think anarchists went to church or supported using the police and the legal system to ban all kinds of things (prostitution, pornography, lap dancing, beauty contests etc). I don't really understand why anyone takes these people seriously, and why they seem to have influence on key members of the Labour party.
I have found out that Caroline Lucas, a leading member of the Green Party, is trying to change the current policy on prostitution from the sensible New Zealand Model to the Swedish Model, which will ban men from paying for sex. She has started believing all of the false statistics put about by radical feminist organisations like OBJECT, and all of the silly ideas such as the idea that prostitution is 'the buying and selling of human beings'. see this blog
There is an argument that Britain is becoming more like America in that there is a shift from public spending on benefits to public spending on prisons, the police and the military. In America they are very keen on humiliation as a means of control. It doesn't work, has never worked but it is part of their culture.
Harriet Harman is cutting benefits for mothers at the same time as criminalizing prostitutes even more. Prostitutes are also being humiliated by being 'named and shamed', with their photographs and names published in newspapers. For example, Michelle Lyn Smith. How can anyone believe that the aristocratic Harriet Harman cares about poor women in general and those of them who choose prostitution in particular?
Is this really what people call being progressive? Radical feminists sometimes get the criticism that they are puritans. Is that true?
Some people have always hated prostitution and tried to stop it. In previous centuries they justified their dislike through religion. We have listened to the justification of radical feminists, and it is dependent on statistics that academics have shown to be false and people like me who have experience of prostitution can see is wrong. They have been told their statistics are all wrong but they don't want to know.
I have been looking into the theory of objectification, which they use to justify their hatreds, and it doesn't make any sense. I might write more about this in another post. I am not against feminism but I am against the radicals. They are the reason why so many women don't want to call themselves feminists.
Their views are dangerous because they harm women. They stop women from being safe. It's not the punters who create the conditions where women are harmed, it is the radical feminists and the ignorant who support them.
Yes, they are puritans. Their personalities are deficient in the qualitites that we would expect of people in authority and with influence.
I decided I wanted to see Alena again. I have mentioned Alena in a previous post. I said that it had been a soulless experience being with her, and how it had reminded me of when I had tried prostitution in Soho in the 80s but given it up.
I went to 26 Wardour Street a while ago looking for a girl called Alina. Someone had given a description of her and recommended her. She wasn't there and somebody told me she didn't work there anymore. I decided to go to nearby Romilly Street to see if Meena was there. She wasn't, but a sign said there was a girl called Alena. I thought maybe Alena and Alina could be the same girl. I knocked on the door and the maid opened it.
She encouraged me to take a look at the girl. Alena was sitting on the bed, a small skinny girl with dark hair. She gave me a big smile. She seemed to fit the description of Alina, but I didn't think it was the same girl and I decided not to stay.
As I was walking along the road I remembered that I had been with a woman called Alena at Romilly Street before, but that this woman had had blonde hair. I don't especially like blondes and she hadn't been that pleasant. I remembered that she had held up one finger to emphasise that she only did one position for the money I had given her. And yet I kept hearing good reports about her on PunterNet.
So yesterday I decided to give it another go. And it was one of my most pleasurable experiences in Soho. I paid 20 pounds for 10 minutes with Alena. I asked her to give me a hand job. While I undressed I said to her that I thought I might have been with her before, but that the girl I had seen had blonde hair. She said it was most probably her, she had had blonde hair but had changed it.
I lay on the bed and she started playing with my willy. She had a nice smile and seemed very relaxed. I asked if I could see her pussy and she got onto all fours with her bottom sticking up in the air. She had an all over tan. I gently pinched her buttocks and held her labia apart to get a good look inside her pussy.
I said that she looked like a teenager. She had small breasts and they were lovely. She smiled and thanked me for the complement. I said that she looked like a schoolgirl. I asked her if she had a schoolgirl uniform and she said no. I gently smacked her bottom. I didn't want to do it too hard or she might have wanted me to pay extra. Paris charges extra for spanking.
Then she did something that no other sex worker has done for me, something I hadn't asked her to do, something that I would not have asked a sex worker to do. She looked deep into my eyes and said "Fuck me, Daddy", and then "Let me see your sperm, Daddy". She wasn't doing it as a joke and she wasn't doing it in the bored mechanical way that some sex workers do. She was playing a role.
I expect that there will be some people who will be shocked by this and will see it as evidence of my depravity. I can imagine a radical feminist or a police officer reading my blog, not because they think like me but because they want to find out what is going on.
People can have sexual fantasies without wanting those sexual fantasies to come true. I am not interested in having sex with teenagers either above the age of consent or below it. I have never had children and if I did I would not want to have sex with a daughter. I saw a documentary once about feminists and women said that a group of them had discussed their sexual fantasies and had been surprised that a common fantasy for them was rape fantasy.
I was immensely excited by Alena but I only had 10 minutes. Not enough time for me to orgasm. As I was leaving I said to her "I liked it when you called me 'Daddy', I'll remember that for next time". I want to see her again. Now I have seen how willing to please she is, I want her to put her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist. I want to carry her around he room and then sit on the edge of the bed with her on my lap. Like I did with Meena (in the same room).
Sometimes people say "Would you want your daughter to be a whore?". To which I could reply "No, but sometimes I want a whore to be my daughter".
Seriously though, it would not bother me if I had a daughter and she became a prostitute. Better than being a banker or a journalist, more honourable. I don't have the old fashioned contempt for prostitutes. I don't define people by what they do to make their money. It's a question of alternatives. Is it better to have your house repossessed or go on the game? Is it better to be evicted for being unable to pay the rent or sit in the dark because you could not pay your electricity bill?
The best thing in life is to find out the thing that you are good at and that you enjoy doing. Prostitution must always be second best to that because I don't believe any woman actually enjoys the work. She may enjoy the company of other women and obviously the money. But even a nymphomaniac would get tired of doing it so frequently. And they say you should not make a job out of your hobby.
If you can't find something you enjoy and are good at then find something that you dislike less than other types of work. Or something where you can earn the same amount of money in a day as in a whole week of something else. Not everyone enjoys working.
Most women would just hate to do it and many women are tempramentally unsuited to prostitution. They shouldn't do it. Also I worry about things like National Insurance contributions. If these are not getting paid because you are outside the normal system of employment or benefits then it can be difficult to get benefits or a pension. I don't know much about it. I don't like the idea of a woman continuing to be a prostitute when she wants to give it up.
Some women want to make a fortune from prostitution or pornography and they do. Some women want to get a few thousand pounds in the bank to finance what they really want to do with their lives. This happens, but you wouldn't think it if you listened just to radical feminists.
I have been reading the blog of Rebecca Mott who I mentioned in my last post. I found a link on the OBJECT site on the testimonies page. What I was hoping for was her testimony, even though I knew it would not show the reality of prostitution for most sex workers. What I found was a lot of ideological claptrap. She refers to some of the things that supposedly happened to her but gives no details.
I have copied and pasted a few paragraphs to give you a flavour of the sort of rubbish she writes and women in OBJECT seem to belive in.
Know to be a prostitute is to rape to almost dead, but to continually be an open vagina, anus, mouth and hands to be fuck again and again and again.
There is no space, rest, time to remember you are human in those conditions.
Many of you may be fighting against factory farming.
But what about prostituted women and girls inside industrial rape factories named brothels, clubs, outdoors prostitution, massage parlours and whatever label hides the male violence.
and this
Tidy away the violence, don’t see the millions of dead bodies, refuse to know the hate and contempt that the sex trade has for the goods – never given permission to be real women and girls.
and this
Any women who named herself a feminist and thinks that is unimportant, or that for some reason prostituted women and girls don’t mind – they choose it don’t they – should think very carefully what is their definition of being a feminist.
It cannot be throwing women and girls under the train.
Feminism need to listen and learn from the voices of exited prostituted women, not to continually go to academia, and to meetings without their voices – the voices of exited prostituted should have a place of honour in feminism, not be a footnote that is sometimes remembered.
That's just the problem with people like Rebecca Mott. They don't listen to women involved in prostitution. My advice to them is to go and talk to prostitutes in Soho. Get to know them. Learn their story. Clayton Littlewood and Juliet Peston have done just that and they tell the truth. Clayton is a gay man and so no one can suspect him of being a punter with a vested interest in keeping it going.
Rebecca says she is an anarchist. She also says she goes to church. I didn't think anarchists went to church or supported using the police and the legal system to ban all kinds of things (prostitution, pornography, lap dancing, beauty contests etc). I don't really understand why anyone takes these people seriously, and why they seem to have influence on key members of the Labour party.
I have found out that Caroline Lucas, a leading member of the Green Party, is trying to change the current policy on prostitution from the sensible New Zealand Model to the Swedish Model, which will ban men from paying for sex. She has started believing all of the false statistics put about by radical feminist organisations like OBJECT, and all of the silly ideas such as the idea that prostitution is 'the buying and selling of human beings'. see this blog
There is an argument that Britain is becoming more like America in that there is a shift from public spending on benefits to public spending on prisons, the police and the military. In America they are very keen on humiliation as a means of control. It doesn't work, has never worked but it is part of their culture.
Harriet Harman is cutting benefits for mothers at the same time as criminalizing prostitutes even more. Prostitutes are also being humiliated by being 'named and shamed', with their photographs and names published in newspapers. For example, Michelle Lyn Smith. How can anyone believe that the aristocratic Harriet Harman cares about poor women in general and those of them who choose prostitution in particular?
Is this really what people call being progressive? Radical feminists sometimes get the criticism that they are puritans. Is that true?
Some people have always hated prostitution and tried to stop it. In previous centuries they justified their dislike through religion. We have listened to the justification of radical feminists, and it is dependent on statistics that academics have shown to be false and people like me who have experience of prostitution can see is wrong. They have been told their statistics are all wrong but they don't want to know.
I have been looking into the theory of objectification, which they use to justify their hatreds, and it doesn't make any sense. I might write more about this in another post. I am not against feminism but I am against the radicals. They are the reason why so many women don't want to call themselves feminists.
Their views are dangerous because they harm women. They stop women from being safe. It's not the punters who create the conditions where women are harmed, it is the radical feminists and the ignorant who support them.
Yes, they are puritans. Their personalities are deficient in the qualitites that we would expect of people in authority and with influence.
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