I Went Whoring on Good Friday

First of all English is not my mother tongue. I rate my English as fairly good, but it's not up to this kind of subjects. So, I may say funny things and, above all, write things meaning something different.

To write things to be ashamed of, curling toes.

Like when I went whoring on Good Friday. She was a petite East-European 25ish, fragile appearance, ill colour. A semblance of perfect victim.

She spoke French slowly, a little faltering. She dressed black imitation leather lingerie. I guess she was high - they must take something to makes them think that they are not there, that it's not them. I was drunk.

Price was low. I paid 50 € for a blow-job and to fuck her doggy style.

While she was giving head, I was sitting on the bed smoking. She had to rush to hand me some ashtray, she was afraid I could set the bed on fire.

Then she turned of the 4 paws, she moaned preparing for penetration. I could not find a comfortable position and I turned her on her back, in the missionary position.

She was ashamed to look at me or disgusted. Or maybe it was my breath. She kept on moaning, hoping in a quicker ejaculation. Her skin was covered with face powder, and released some sweet scent, like all whores. The neck tendon, a reflection on the skin and the suffering expression on her pale face, made me feel like I wanted to slobber on her. I can't recall if I called her names, Probably not.

I enjoyed seeing my cock penetrating in the middle of her thighs, I looked good in the mirror while I was riding her. But I couldn't find myself disgusting and couldn't get really excited.

After it was done, she tried to socialize, asked me if I enjoyed it, if I was OK and if I used to work out. She tried to wipe the sperm of my dick with a Kleenex, but thinking that it would have made her feel comfortable I turned my back and wore my pants.

I came out in the street with a smile. A bottle of Pouilly Fuissé had designed that grin on my face a couple of hours before. I had been experiencing a feeling of self-contentment since I finished watching Apocalypse Now (redux), kneeling in front of the television, with my arms wide open, ready for the Eucharist.

I guess it says a lot about myself and sex. Whores are handy sometimes, I enjoy seeing they fake they enjoy it, knowing they don't like me.

As far as I am concerned, sex is only a way of abusing people, of abusing myself.

This has only increased while growing older, while loosing sexual power. Not that violence really turns me on. Quite the opposite, lately I find myself fantasizing about tall androgynous women, overpowering me (though I guess it's not the exact masochistic fantasy)... and that's why I wrote this message to you (is that you in the picture?).

I realise that it may sound scary. Sorry, it was not my intention.

I Am Ashamed of Nothing I Have Done

I spent twenty years, eight months, and one day in the US military. The first ten of those years I was happily married to a sexual goddess. We made love, we fucked, we had casual sex with each other almost every day for almost every day of our marriage. The only times we didn't have sex was when I was down-range for three, four, or even seven-month deployments. The best sex in my life would be in the weeks following my return home from those deployments. We would make love and just plain fuck for a whole week. Little did I realize I was married to a sex addict; I asked the question I didn't want the answer to: have you been screwing other men while I'm away? I filed for divorce the next day, and did an ERD (early return of dependents) with my command. In one short week, I went from having mad/crazy love-making/fuck-fests almost every day to celibate guy.

I was stationed in Germany at the time and was only a short four hour drive to Amsterdam. Two months after having no sex and getting very tired of the whole masturbation thing, I made a drive up to Amsterdam with a few single friends. We had a purpose, and it was to get me laid. We arrived about 5PM and started off at the Hard Rock drinking insane amounts of Heineken. None of us had ever done anything like this. (Although I did pay for a virgin co-worker to have sex at a so-called Turkish women's prison in SE Turkey in 1992 during one of my several stints for OP Northern Watch/OP Provide Comfort). We needed to take the integrity-first edge off, so to speak. We started roaming the district a couple hours later. Since we were window shopping, we walked around for about an hour trying to find that "perfect" girl. I found mine first.

She was about 5'6", light brown hair, smallish but perky breasts, and not a day over 22. There was no negotiation: fifty guilder. At the time, the guilder-to-dollar exchange rate was about 2:1, so $25 for a session. I had no idea what a session comprised, but I was quite willing to part with fifty guilder to actually touch a naked woman. I went in, she closed the door, pulled the curtain and switched on a small lamp and turned off the overhead light. The room was tiny. It had a sink, a single bed and a chair. There wasn't much room for anything else. I sat down on the bed, and she took off my shoes and socks, then my shirt, and then she unbuckled my belt, unbuttoned my 501's, and then slid my jeans and underwear off. She neatly placed all of my clothes on the chair, put my socks in the shoes, and placed them under the chair. Very neat, very proper, and very matter-of-fact. Then she examined my now very erect penis, and then she took off her bra and slid out of her panties. Kneeling there on the floor, looking up at me, was a thing of beauty. Not an ounce of fat, perfectly taught belly, spectacularly symmetric breasts, and a completely shaved pubic area. She stood up and laid me on my back on the small bed, my feet hanging over the edge. She placed a condom on my penis, then straddled me, and then slowly lowered herself onto me. She maintained complete control, riding me until I came, about 15 minutes.

She took off the condom, wiped me up and handed me my clothes. We chatted while I dressed, and in doing so, found we were both Czech. When I left, I asked if I could come back again later that evening. She said that would be fine, but she would be vacating the spot at 2200 hours when another girl would be taking over. That would be fine, she said. My friends were waiting for me when I left, asking all the standard questions (how was it? was it worth it?). We walked around trying to find "perfect" for the other guys. When one of them found one, we'd wait outside, until we'd all had our A-dam cherries popped. I found my first experience so exhilarating that I paid for sex three more times that night... once more with my Czech beauty. The next day was a carbon copy of the first: lots of beer and then sex with more girls. I visited my Czech beauty three times that weekend, and over the course of the next six months, I spent every other weekend in A-dam, buying blocks of time with her. Of course we spent a lot of time fucking, but we also spooned for hours, talking about life in America and life in Praha. I'd bring American cigarettes from the base commissary and cosmetics from the BX for her after the second weekend. (I asked her if I could bring something for her once, and then I'd always ask what else she wanted.) Those spring and summer months of 1996 linger in my mind for two reasons: I was single again for the first time in over 12 years, and I had amazing sex and spooning with "my" Czech beauty in A-dam.

I have been a john, off and on, since that crazy year. I've paid for sex with college girls in Seattle while on my way to Japan. I spent an extra two days in Frankfurt, returning from my last tour in Iraq, just to spend some Euros in one of the various Eros Centers. I've picked up streetwalkers for a twenty dollar blow job, and I've spent as much as five hundred bucks (not including a room and dinner afterwards). I've crossed the South Texas border for weekend sex jaunts. When I was stationed in Japan, I even took a week-long trip to Thailand for the single-minded purpose of fucking, fucking, and more fucking.

Here's what I've found out about myself, and life in general, in the process of being a john. I'm not a big fan of Asian women--although the Thai trip was completely otherworldly, in terms of no-holds-barred, freaky, whatever you ever dreamed of, off-the-charts-and-straight-to-hell sex--I prefer the end-of-century eastern European women of Amsterdam and Germany (Czechs, Poles and Russians). American girls charge too fucking much. As much as I love to perform cunnilingus, and I'd rather spend an hour giving before an hour of receiving, I've only done it with one working girl. I still do not have herpes (I'm certainly a very, very, very lucky man). I'd just as soon spend $300 to come right away and then spoon for 45 minutes as I would to have a whiskey-dick hard on and never come for an hour. You can, in fact, buy intimacy by the hour, even if one half of it is feigned. Lesbian crackheads do not give good head. One can try to hang a sign on us, the collective john, as perpetuating the global conspiracy of sex/slave traffic, and I'll grant that my Thailand trip may have/probably did contribute to some sort of thuggery. But in the end, I am ashamed of nothing I have done.

I Was 22

I was 22 and set off for the my first trip to Europe at the beginning of summer break at my college. I only knew the rudiments of Latin which I had studied in high school and had no real destination. I began in the Netherland, Amsterdam and traveled by the seat of my pants for the next month. After the flight and short train ride I was at Centraal station Amsterdam. I had plenty of money saved up for the trip and a few days booked at a hostel downtown. While walking around taking in the sights of the city's abundant nightlife I stumbled into the infamous red light district. The place itself was beautiful with red neon lights reflecting off the many shops and windows that gave everything a pink haze. The area smelled of cigarettes and Pommes. There was a canal dividing the street which I kept close to as I watched people watch prostitutes. The people I observed actually soliciting were many and varied. Business men in dark suits from every ethnic background, groups of young boys daring each other to talk to women in the windows they didn't have the guts to talk to themselves, US military men, and a host of others.

I honestly did not plan to actually try it, but felt infected with the aura of the people around me and finally gave in. I probably walked down the canal each direction 3 times before I could muster the courage to approach one. She was a cute Croatian girl in one of the side streets. She reminded me of a girl I had always wanted to fool around with in high school. I went into her little room, and she pulled the drape over the window over. My earlier observations led me to try and set a price. I think it was my first time negotiating the price of anything. I was so used to paying the listed price and then tax since I owned a wallet. We agreed on a 100 Euro for a half hour. I think I was so nervous that I could barely get it up so I figured I would spend the first ten minutes making small talk and trying to get to know her a bit. She was the same age as me and had been living in Croatia until a few months ago. I ended up talking about myself and asking her about the industry in general. We ended up talking until her alarm went off and realized I only had 5 minutes left. I paid for another half hour and got right down to it. She inspected me then put the condom on herself. The experience was rather interesting as I had never had sex with a body length mirror next to the bed. At times I wanted to kiss her which I found out is not common practice. I settled for trying to kiss her breast, but there was some kind of glitter and perfume on it and decided against trying again. At the end I was rather disappointed. I think it might have been better had I not been laid for a while but I was glad of the experience.

I don't know if this is the proper format but it was the best I could recall from memory and the journal I kept of the event.

I Was a Naif at Sex

I was 19-23 and in Europe/Asia on Uncle Sam's dime. I was also a naif at sex (one prior experience). I landed in Europe first, specifically Frankfurt, Germany, for a month before heading to my permanent duty station. Outside of the main train station in Frankfurt was the city's sex district, probably 2 or 3 city blocks square. I utilized it weekly, picking out a huge brothel that was only known as Crazy Sexy. You walked in via a parking garage into a huge, nearly barren room: to the right of the entrance was a bar, to the left was a series of arcade machine. Throughout the room were the main supporting concrete pillars for the building. The floor itself was concrete. The air was always thick with hash smoke, the walls lined mostly with young G.I.s. On the main floor were all the girls - Crazy Sexy advertised 300 women. I got it in my head that I would come once a week until I had been with all 300. Impossible and stupid, but that's what I tried.

The typical experience for me was enter, have a drink, catch a contact buzz and decide who appeared fetching to me that night. Once the woman agreed (had to be her choice; prostitution in Germany was legal and if the lady in question said no at any point you would meet the polizie) we went upstairs (3 stories) to her room. We undressed and the woman would wash me and inspect for and STIs - then the prophylactic went on - always.

I would guess it was never no longer than 15-20 minutes before you would start to hear the click click click of the German shepherds the bouncers walked up and down the hallways, your cue to finish up.

I went at least weekly, sometimes twice or three times a week, when I was not in the field. This held true for the 2 years I was in Europe.

Asia was the same only more relaxed. I think that's right. In Asia it was normal to go into a barber shop, on base, and receive an $8 haircut, with $2 more for a manicure, and an additional $5 for oral sex - all at the same time. There were at least 5 chairs filled at any time. Sex on the economy was similar to the Europe experience, except the 'foreplay' was different - there were more subtle patterns to the initial greetings and information exchange before the actual sex...

Individual experiences were always different, some slightly, some markedly, but the common denominator throughout was the absolute zero tolerance of violence toward any of the women - it was worth your life in some places. Conversely, I heard about places - especially while in Asia - that not only countenanced violence, but offered it a la carte.