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This is a question Have you ever paid for sex?

Well, have you? BTW: No more, "No I haven't" and "You sad bastard" comments please. Let the people with stories to tell, tell their stories. Cheers.

(, Thu 19 Jan 2006, 12:23)
Pages: Popular, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

This question is now closed.

Well, I Suppose Yes...
A few years ago a bunch of Mancs and me, the token Geordie went over to Amsterdam for a mates Stag Night. We had a cracking weekend but the funniest bit was our last night.

On our final evening there we all headed for a nice pub I knew that was just on the edge of the Red Light District. While we were having a few beers, somebody took up a collection to get Johnny, the groom, a whore for his final night of freedom. Well we raised about a hundred quid and one of the lads, a known fanny-rat, scuttled off into the darkness to find the best-looking whore he could find. After about an hour he came back and announced he'd found a cracker and we then all tried to persuade the groom to go and do his duty.

Well Johnny was adamant. He was getting married the next week to the girl of his dreams and there was no way he was going with a lady of the night. And he didn't care that we'd already paid her.

"Hold on" said Paddy another of the mob. "You mean we've already paid?"

"Yup" says Fanny Rat. "She's waiting in a room just round the corner"

"Well" says Paddy "If we've already paid I suppose that I better go and shag her - it'd be a pity to waste the money"

So Paddy and Fanny Rat headed off into the night.

"Hold on" says Chris "I put in some of that money so I want to at least watch!"

And with that, we all looked at each other and trooped off after Paddy. We found Fanny Rat waiting outside a door to one of the prostitutes working rooms. Chris marches up and knocks on the door. BANG-BANG-BANG.

After few moments, the door opened and a slightly dishevelled, partially dressed girl opened the door.

"Yes?" she says.

"Hi" says Chris "You've got our mate in there and as we paid for you, we want to watch."

"Fuck off" says prostitute and slams the door in his face.

"So what do we do now?" says Chris "She won't let us watch!"

"Well we could give him immoral support" says someone at the back and with that a chant started by 20 pissed up blokes:

"Paddy! Paddy! Paddy!"

As we were shouting encouragement to Paddy, a bunch of about 40 Geordies turned up.

"What's going on?" says one of them

"Oh - our mates in there with a whore and we're just giving him some encouragement" I said.

"Marvellous!" says Geordie "We'll help you"

And with that the 40 Geordies joined the Manc contingent and this mighy roar split the skies.


After a few minutes of this enormous sound the door flew open and tart was stood in the doorway, stark naked and tits heaving.

"Can you keep the bloody noise down please" she yelled. "Paddy's trying to concentrate"

Cue 60 blokes collapsing in hysterics.

(, Thu 19 Jan 2006, 13:10, Reply)
Accidental prostitute
I remember going on a date with a student nurse and, after a few drinks, we ended up back at her place.

We decided to order a pizza and I thought I'd be a gentleman and pay once it arrived (classy eh?)

When the pizza was eventually delivered I was in the bathroom so she answered the door and payed the man.

We shared the romantic candle-lit pizza, listened to some soft music and retired to the bedroom.

The next morning I awoke and realised I was late for work so, while she slept on, I grabbed my clothes and made a dash for the train. Suddenly I remembered - pizza! - I ought to leave some money for it. I decided to leave a note alongside the cost of the previous evening's meal.

It was only after I shut her front door I realised that the first thing the poor woman would see when she woke up was £10 on her table with a note saying "Thanks. Tasted lovely."
(, Fri 20 Jan 2006, 20:31, Reply)
Take three prostitutes, after meals and call me if the condition changes...
Nope, not paid for it myself but I know someone who had it paid for him and on the NHS no less.

It was the much older brother of a good friend of mine, who was provided with the services of a prostitute by an NHS counsellor.

It was sort of a knock on effect of being found by his mother wearing her underwear. After he peeled his mother off the ceiling, he explained to her that he was wearing her underwear because he was a woman trapped in a man's body (a short, fat and very spotty body) rather than a bit of pervy sexual experimentation. Not sure if there actually *is* a good answer in that situation anyway.

After this admission, he started to formally go through the gender reassignment process. His counseller was taking him through the early stages of therapy and counselling and quickly divined the possible truth of the situation. Namely that he was an overly shy middle aged virgin who had never been near a woman who wasn't a family member.

So he was provided with a few trips to a local brothel (on the NHS) and was very happily fucked into lucidity. Firstly, I suspect that they offer this service to a lot of people in his situation, to make sure that they know what they really want and hopefully avoid screwing them up for life and secondly, I'm not suggesting for a minute that everyone who wants a sex change just needs to have a good shag. Just him.

I must confess at the time I was single and bloody jealous when I heard about him getting laid not once but three times on the NHS.

Then I remembered what my NHS specs looked like - one of her arms was probably held on with sellotape.
(, Thu 19 Jan 2006, 14:34, Reply)
Not me but a mate.
Set the scene:
I'm in bed one saturday morning, about 7.30am. I get a phone call from my chronicaly drunk pal James.

Me:"What the fuck you bastard, it's 7.30 in the morning"
James:"Yeh, but mate, I'm in trouble"
Me:"Again, what this time?"
James:"I'm at work (he worked in a hotel) in a room and theres a whore in the bed"
Me:"Fuck, is she dead?"
James:"No, but I said I'd pay £300 for the night, I've only got £3.10"
James:"Can you lend me some"
Me:"Fuck off, do a runner, and I'll catch up with you later"
James:"But she'll tell someone"
Me:"Oh yeh, like she'll grass herself up for being a whore"
James:"Good point, see you at yours in 20 mins"
Me:"What the f...."

Cue later that day down the pub, James's phone rings, he answers and goes a colour somewhere between green and purple:
me:"Er, what's up?"
James:"That was work, I'm fired...apparantly I claimed to be the hotel manager and left a prostitute in a room and fucked off without paying...worse still, I stole her fags"
James:"I've got to go pick up my stuff and my p45"
me:"Tough break"
James:"Yeh, my mum's the accountant"

Appologies for length, but not girth.
(, Tue 24 Jan 2006, 9:42, Reply)
Went to a hotel (cos thats where all the bar's are)in Duabi called the New Yorker.

Walked past the lump of bouncer and proceeded in whereupon I was immediately grabbed by one of the bar hostesses and asked if I wanted a drink "Ooo, yes please! I'll be at the bar" - She totters off to get my drink (from the bar) and I aim for a friendly Arsenal shirt, also at the bar, assuming he will be english. He was, so we get chatting and I ask him if he knew of anywhere to find a girl for the evening. He laughed and waved his hand across the packed room and said "Take your pick, you can have any of them". This was when it clicked that all the stools were fixed to the floor but facing outward rather than towards the bar. Marvellous I thought, have a few beers, a chat, compare notes, take my pick, and go and have some fun.

The only thing was that by the time you had compared them and thought about it some other git had got in there first and was proceeding out of the door with his hand on her arse. Ok, I thought, after about 3 pints, I'll have to be a bit more pro-active and walk the floor. Now, I'm not racist, but as I was paying for it I wanted to have a white european girl. Not a problem you may think, but there were so many Chinese, Korean, Thai, Indian etc etc it was hard to find 'the one'. I was squeezed, pummelled, pinched, touched up all the way round the room and started to wonder who was picking who here.

I was going to give up and return to my drinking buddy for the night when I saw a stunner. I fought my way across to her and asked her if she was free. B0llocks, Ukrainian and not a word of English. Still, I did not give up and asked the girl next to her if she could translate, which luckily she could, sort of. Anyway, I didn't just want a shag - oh no - greedy old me wanted her for the whole night. I thought I might have a few more beers and if I was incapable I could at least get my monies worth in the morning. After a little haggle we agreed on a price (AED600 I think).

Now came a bit of a problem. Almost every one in there was wearing casual / jeans, although I was wearing a loose shirt and proper trousers. I had wangled a suite at one of the best hotels in Dubai (tallest hotel in the middle east - and has the same name as an airline - if you know that area of the world) on the 42nd floor and there was no way security would let me use the executive lift with her on my arm in jeans. So I asked her, via the translator of course, if she would mind popping home and getting changed into something slinky - I showed her my room key (which is infact a little model of the hotel with a sensor in the bottom which you just point at the door) and she got the message. After parting with 20AED for her to get a taxi, I settled onto my stool and had another beer and chatted to the Arsenal shirt while I waited.

About 30 mins later she returned and the sea of people parted as this vision of beauty walked across the club in a full length red satin dress, with full make up, hair done, with red matching elbow length gloves and a clutch bag - everyone was watching. "Fuck me" said Arsenal "she rubs up well". She finally reaches me, having a huge grin on his face, kisses me on the cheek and says "Ok?" in rough english. Too right it was. Quickly polish of my pint, high five Arsenal and off we went.

In the taxi back to the hotel she shows me her passport in her bag, to which I shrug and look back quizzically. She sort of gets it across to me that she might need it to get in. I hold her hand, pat it in a sort of 'don't worry, let me sort it out type of way'. We get to the executive lift and security says I can't take her up, I would have to pay a 2nd person supplement if she was going up. I countered saying that we had been to dinner and she was just coming up for tea. I'll explain a bit here - The executive suites have a seperate reception and dinning area (breakfast / nibbles / cocktails etc) so as the big knobs don't have to rub shoulders with the normal riff raff on the 41 floors below, which is cool. He eventually stands aside and lets us in, with me grinning even more.

Arrive at the 42nd floor where the twunt from security had warned the receptionist that I + one was coming for tea only. Now, being the smart guy that I am, I had already spoken to the receptionist before I went out, in fact I asked her to suggest a place to 'find some fun' so she was cool about it. She said that we could have tea in the lounge and that security would be changing shifts in about a hour as would she, who would also turn a blind eye if we happened to re-locate to my suite.

Right on! I peeled that dress off and had her in every room - there were 5 + the walk in wardrobes Fan~fucking~tastic. Then all again in the morning. Best sex ever, bar none!

I had to go to a conference that morning, so I was suited and booted, she, of course, only had the wonderful red dress. It was like a scene out of Pretty Woman when we stepped out of the lift together and walked across the huge foyer to the taxi jockeys. I dropped her off at home and was dreamy for the rest of my trip.

I was flying out to Doha the day after so I have never seen her again. We swapped numbers etc and have been e:mailing each other for the last year - pictures included. She's now given up that type of work and plans to marry an Irish bloke in America this year.

The experience did my head in for many weeks.

Oh, and to top it off, I was able to put it down as expenses!!!

Apologies for length, but she was worth it.
(, Thu 19 Jan 2006, 14:52, Reply)
Paying for sex includes hotel porn right?
Seeing this weeks newsletter about disabled porn reminded me of this. This is not my story, it's a friend's. But as he is on a round the world motorbike trip at the moment, I'll tell it the way he does.

"I checked into a hotel in Jo'burg, and of course the first thing you do is check out the quality of the in room porn.

So i had a look and there were 4 or 5 channels, mostly of the "Anal party" or "Teen Orgy" variety, but the last option intrigued me; it said "Disabled adult channel".

"Well," I thought, "if they're sick enough to make disabled porn, I'm sick enough to watch it" So I unzipped and selected that option.

Then and only then did I realise it actually said "DISABLE adult channels" and my 2 week stay in this shit hole would now be without any right hand action because I was too embarassed to phone reception to get it reinstated."

I have no idea whether this is true or not. But it's funny.
(, Fri 20 Jan 2006, 15:49, Reply)
Not so much paid for sex, but I did a swap. I exchanged a Polly Pocket and some cunnilingus for a No. 50 Star Wars Special Edition Tazo and full bum sex. Both parties left the situation with a sense of satisfaction and one-upmanship.
(, Thu 19 Jan 2006, 16:24, Reply)
Ah yes.
A friend of mine got out of prison after a six month stint. Following rather a few beverages, me and other friend decided he probably needed to unload himself a little.

So, off we trot to the red light district and a lovely young lady approaches.

Give our mate the required £40 off he trots.

Only to re-appear about 10 minutes later, claiming: "I couldn't do it lads. She's got tits like me mums.".

(, Thu 19 Jan 2006, 14:52, Reply)
Paid? No.
Prayed? Yes.
(, Thu 19 Jan 2006, 15:28, Reply)
A friend gave me a lift home a few months back...
and we dropped another friend off at town. If any of you have wondered down Sweet Street in Leeds at 11pm on any evening, you will know what it is like.

I needed to get some money out of an ATM because I owed him a tenner. We went to a cash machine near Sweet Street:

These 2 prostitutes came towards me asked if I was requiring any assistance. I wasn't. I took out my money and turned back to get in the car. My friend had driven down the road just in view to be laughing his arse off at me. I was scared! I didn't want to be left alone with these two middle aged women. I just said "no thanks", and walked off.

Then, the most terrifying thinkg I have seen for ages happened. I looked around and there must have been about ten thousand twelve prostitutes, all walking up and down. Their dark, smacked up eyes and wrinkled skin would have been more fitting in a coffin than out on the streets.

It was like something out of Dawn of the Dead. They all, slowly started making their way towards my friends car. He shouted at me "Get in the car!". One of the hookers thought he was talking to her, and opened the door. "Not you, yer filthy whore!"

My whole life flashed before my eyes: Walking my first step, saying my first word, failing my first exam, losing my virginity, right up to getting propositioned by a Liz McDonald lookalike.

Then everything went in slow motion. My friend drove off, and I was almost in tears! What if one of them pulled a needle on me? What if they tried to rub their chlamydia infested vaginas into my youthful, spritely eyes?

Eventually I managed to escape them, weaving in and out of their ferociously skinny bodies. I dived head first into my friends car through the window, as he drove off with my legs still dangling out. (Okay, so that last bit didn't happen.)

But I lived to tell another tale. I survived the manic 10 minutes that could have ended up with me contracting the clap. Alas, no! We escaped into the sunset and retired to our life of youthful innocence.

Plus, I only had a tenner, and they wanted fourty!
(, Sun 22 Jan 2006, 0:35, Reply)
Lets say a friend...
Right then, I work in an office, sitting at a desk all day doing, what dull stuff with computers.. As I see it, the more fag breaks I have during the day, the better off I am as Im being paid to smoke, right?
Well, the other day I went smoking, outside as normal, and, as normal, there was a few people all smoking at the same time. Well, as with most fairly large offices, there were people who i knew very well, people i knew less well and people who i dont really know at all... They were all blokes, chatting about blokey things.
The normal bollocks we chat about turned to Amsterdam and then the talk moved on to dodgy hookers and people who go to them..
One of the people who I didn't know that well piped up. "Yeah, I've been to loads. Been to most of the knocking shops in Bristol and loads in Amsterdam too!".
Mild shock occured at this point, as you've gotta remember, this isn't actually a mate or anything, this is just someone we work with. But fair enough - he's clearly not embarrased about it, lets not judge.

Hmmm... If only he'd stopped there.. Ahh.. My mind would have been pure. As it is he, unfortunatly, continued.

"In fact, I was in Prague once, and thats how I got this scar [Points to small scar on forehead]! I had been smoking all day and was pilled right up so decided to go and get my end away."

Hmm.. Where is this going...

"So I went to this whorehouse I found, I was fucking out my tree, and paid my money, and it was one of those brothels with a Jacuzzi in it. There was this bird in there all waiting, like, so I started getting my clothes off, and I was so horny and fucked I fell face first into the side of the bath!"

Good Lord. What kind of people do I work with?

"So this girl started screaming and before I knew what was happening, two bouncers had kicked the door in and had me pinned up against the wall."

Right, thought I, so he got a kicking and was taught the error of his ways, possibly breaking the 'lady-of-the-night' out of her vicious drug-abuse cycle, such is the power of romance. But no.

"Luckily the prozzie explained what had happened, and they were so nice about it - made sure I was OK, and got me a plaster [band-aid to you Yankees who read this] and wished me well."

Ahh.. Thats nice. Story of people the world over being nice to an injured fellow human. Anyway, finished smoki.. What the.. He's carrying on.. hmmm..

"So then they left, and I thought, fuck this, i've paid my money, i wanna get a fuck. So I checked it was alright and got back in. So I was in the jacuzzi, getting wanked off by this prozzie, then I decided to fuck her - so we went to the bed and i climbed on and started to fuck the shit out of her."

Nice. He was mimeing fucking this prozzie. Outside of FUCKING WORK!

"Anyway I was just about to come, and the plaster comes off again, blood starts pissing over her face, and I fucking loved it! I shot my bolt just seeing that! Course she was screaming again and the bouncers burst back in, but she explained that it wasn't anything serious and they patched my up again and I walked out happily!"

I was stood there - mouth open, agog at the story I'd just heard. I couldn't quite belive it.. I mean this is a guy who i dont know that well, who i WORK with who has just told me one of the worst stories I've ever heard.

We all went back inside and emails were flying about between all the people who were outside.. Basically, he'd told us that seeing this prozzie covered in blood and screaming was the best thing he'd ever seen, and it made him shoot his load.
I'm still decideing whether to call the pigs out.

This is, unfortunatly, a true story. Sorry everyone.
He's actually a fairly alright bloke though. Apart from wanting to kill whores.

Oh, and for people from work who know who I am, his initials are DB. Scary scary DB.
(, Mon 23 Jan 2006, 17:39, Reply)
I have.
As a 17 year old in Amsterdam (15 years ago), walking along with a couple of mates. This girl, a devastating vision of physical beauty offered her services.

You should have seen her, Aphrodite she was.
I figure that outside of whoredom, no girl so beautiful (about 5' 10", slim, small waist, big hips, breasts like Jamie Lee Curtis in Trading Places, blonde, blue eyes, smile that would dazzle god) would be bothered with me so I figured, why not?
She was fan-tast-ic. Unhurried, conversational, affectionate. She made me a cup of tea and everything. She was a student who was looking to earn a little money, enjoyed the job, chose her punters.

Couple of nights later, saw her as we were coming out of a brown house. She recognised me, remembered my name, let me buy her a drink and gave me a freebie back at hers.

Apologies for it not being funny or urban legend-esque or outré.

And if she didn't make me apologise for length, don't think I'll apologise to you.
(, Thu 19 Jan 2006, 15:09, Reply)
Do "Good Boy" chocolate drops count as payment?
(, Thu 19 Jan 2006, 15:57, Reply)
Sex and young children (not in that order!!)
Reading Gleeballs reminded me of this.....

My mate is a teacher in the junior school bit of a grammar school in a North West town beginning with B.

One day the topic of 'what you want to do when you grow up?' came up (no pun intended- well sort of). One 7 year old boy replied with:

'i want to suck mens willys for money'


nearly as good as the boy who said he wanted to be a poo
(, Fri 20 Jan 2006, 11:46, Reply)
not me honest
My mate hates when i tell this story... lets refer to him as M. We were in amsterdam and he went in to see a hooker, a very pretty girl from birmingham,there had to be one (cat deeley exception). However having drunk quite a lot of strong dutch lager he decided he needed the toilet before doing the deed. the conversation went something like this..
M. have you got a toilet i can use?
Pro. No but for another 40 euros you can piss on me.
M. Looks in wallet.. looks at whore, looks in wallet again, MMM OK.
M. Deed done, as he walks out she's stood mopping the floor, so he turns round and says "call me".
Comes outside tells us all the story and adds, didn't think i had enough money to tell her i needed a shit!
(, Mon 23 Jan 2006, 20:55, Reply)
Cheap, fast and too soon.
When I was about 9 or 10 some of my classmates came up with a plan where if we each put some money in and came up with $5 one of the fairly hot girls in the class would lift her shirt and show us her tits. Of course we all pitched in immediately! When the shirt came up we realized our fatal error, which was in forgetting that 9 year old girls don't have anything to look at under the shirt yet. In fact with her shirt pulled up over her head you couldn't tell her from us.

Oh well. If we'd invested that money in stocks instead we'd all be retired now.
(, Sat 21 Jan 2006, 2:34, Reply)
Now you come to mention it...
...several years ago when I was making a living smoothing the edges of matchsticks that are used in world record breaking model making attempts, I suffered a minor industrial accident when a splinter of endangered hardwood flew from the high speed lathe and punctured my left earlobe. It wasn't a bad wound, but when I complained to the boss (a large, obscenely sweaty Welshman) he claimed that I shouldn't really be complaining as firstly I wasn't hurt, and secondly that I'd just had my ear pierced for free. I pointed out to him that I did not want my ear pierced, as I find the sight of men wearing earrings, particularly one earring and especially one (almost invariably) diamonte earring, vilely inappropriate. He was unrepentant; there was for me on that day, no Welcome In The Valleys.

Rather than sink to the level of Claims Direct and any others from that monstrous cabal of those with the moral rectitude of an incontinent dog, I instead hired a small private security company, who rather like the A-Team, will help you (sometimes) if you can find them. Having swiftly dispatched the perfumed Taff who had so wronged me, I found myself writing them a cheque for services rendered. It could therefore be said that I have indeed, paid Force X, and most satisfactory was the whole affair, too.
(, Fri 20 Jan 2006, 16:40, Reply)
Yes - but a bargain!
I received an email called "The Sleaze Quiz". You give answers to sex questions and it tells you how sleazy you are. My girlfriend and I filled it in and were just short of being "a danger to society."

One question was "Have you ever paid for sex?" So in an effort to bump up numbers, I paid my girlfriend that night for sex.

Cost? 1 penny. Ace!

/Apologies for patheticness
(, Fri 20 Jan 2006, 8:13, Reply)
(, Thu 19 Jan 2006, 17:23, Reply)
Not as such...
While i was in Amsterdam,at the tender age of 14,my mum thought it would be hilarious to go for a walk through the Red Light District. We walked along giggling and trying to avoid and shifty looking charecters (of which there were many). Then,a guy kinda popped up in front of us and said to my mum " How much for that one" and pointed at me. Mum shouted " piss off,thats my fucking daughter!" and we legged it!

Also in Amsterdam,a guy from a porn cinema shouted "hey ladies,come in and see a real big cock for once!" and my gobby mother said "nah,im already looking at one". Yet again,we legged it.
(, Thu 19 Jan 2006, 16:29, Reply)
Well sort of...

I paid 50p to draw on a girls mimsie in primary school. One of those smelly pens if you remember those?
That pen never smelt like maple syrup ever again..
(, Thu 19 Jan 2006, 16:27, Reply)
She's NOT a whore.
A few years ago me and my girlfriend went up-country to that London to see REM. We'd got a super-cheap hotel in Kings Cross.

Now, both being born-and-bred Devonians, neither of us knew much about that London, or the reputation that Kings Cross has.

We saw the gig, and headed back to the hotel, my gf all dolled up to look good on the off-chance Micheal Stipe will spot her in the audience.

Walking through reception the receptionist,(a different one to when we'd arrived) stopped us.
'You can't take her in here!' to me, gesturing to my girlfriend.
'Why not?'
'Because we don't allow it sir'
'Allow what?'
'Ah, extra guests.'
'She's with me!'
'Ah, yes sir, but we don't allow that.'
'Right. Allow what?'
'Ah sir, I think we both know what I'm referring to.'
'Um, actually no....'

It took a long and painfully embarrasing conversation to realise that the receptionist thought my girlfriend was a whore I'd just picked up.

Somehow my gf decided that this was my fault.

I'm still a bit confused about it now.
(, Wed 25 Jan 2006, 21:54, Reply)
I have been offered money for it!
A few years back I was walking through the town centre with a friend when a small grey haired old women approached me, took me by the arm and asked in a shaky voice if I wanted to come back to hers! I was so shocked I just stood and stared having never been propositioned by an old aged pensioner before. With her other hand she reached into her purse and produced a handful of 50p coins “I’ve got loads of mooonnneeeeyyyyy” she said!

I started to say something like “look… I’m not that kind of…” but broke off when 3 security guards approached her, prised her elderly hand off my arm and said “Now come on you have been told about this!” She made sounds of disappointment then allowed herself to be led away.

My friend and I exchanged glances feeling pretty freaked out by the experience. “Poor women” I said watching the backs of the guards as they led her away and no sooner had I finished speaking the old women struggled and TURNED to face us! She pointed… and laughed…. and laughed and laughed, all the time the guards and staying things like “Come on now, there’s a nice lady, leave the lands alone!”

I had a mild stroke!
(, Fri 20 Jan 2006, 9:52, Reply)
Of course
It cost thirty pounds, I gave her a fifty pound note, which reminds me, can you ask your Mum to give me my twenty pounds back.

she was rubbish ... your Dad was better ... and cheaper ... and didn't cry ... much.
(, Thu 19 Jan 2006, 13:18, Reply)
Can't say I've ever paid for sex, in any way. But I've got worms. Little uninvited arse-dwelling parasitical bastards.

Not related to the question, I just wanted to share.
(, Thu 19 Jan 2006, 23:27, Reply)
I confess.
When i was a 21 year-old virgin I backpacked across Europe on my own and had Amsterdam pencilled in as my second stop. From the very start the visit really went very badly indeed. French railways didn't like my rail-pass and insisted I get an evening train, which got in at about 11pm. Due to a conference going on in the city every single listed hotel or hostel bed was taken, so I wandered about for two hours until finally I ended up in the red light district trying to get some change so I could use a phone to call a hostel number I'd been given. Pulling out a fifty euro note instead of the intended five was a bad move and resulted immediately in my being pulled into an alley by a six foot crack addict and having a gun pulled on me.
The next evening, having moreorless recovered from this experience, I decided to go and have a drink, but could find nowhere open except coffeeshops. After a few beers and quite a few shots in a terrible Irish bar I stumbled back towards the hostel and was turning the corner near it when I was grabbed and punched by another junkie mugger. While the shop-owner next to us completely ignored my requests for help I eventually fought the guy off with the help of a passing English tramp. Though glad to have got away this time I was shaking with panic at being in such a terrible place all on my own. Next to me there was a woman in a window who winked at me like she understood. Without thinking I walked in and gave her fifty euros for "fuck-suck".
I laid on the bed and took off my clothes. She pulled all hers off in a second, laughed at my y-fronts and handed me a condom, which I put with great difficulty on my semi-on. I was way too drunk and nervous to get aroused properly but istead of waiting she just got down there and started sucking. After about thirty seconds, and still not properly hard, I came. "Oh," she said, "so much sperm!"
Then she indicated I put my clothes on. I asked if I got another go but she said it would be another 50 euros, so I left and passed out in my hostel down the street.
It wasn't a good experience and not something I'd like to repeat. I'm just glad I didn't lose my virginity to this woman but instead to a girlfriend I got the following month.

Sorry for length.
(, Thu 19 Jan 2006, 17:23, Reply)
Follow up to 8-balls tale
A mate of mine used to work as a "bouncer" at one of the Soho clip joints. He never got physical, but was encouraged to imply violence in order to scare punters into coughing up 200 quid for three shandies and a chat with a russian chick.

His best story is one guy who (as many do) claimed to have no money on him, so after he turned out his pockets they walked him (as they often did) to the cash machine, at which point he claimed to have forgotten his PIN.

"Maybe it's in your address book?" Says my mate, and scared blokes eyes go wide for a minute before he comes up with an ingeneous plan.

He tears the pages out of his address book and eats them.

Mate + co-bouncer stare on in disbelief as he munches down on the contents of his little black book before swallowing, looking up at them and declaring that they might as well get on with beating him up. But the bouncer-types are too busy rolling around on the floor, pausing only to tell him "fair play mate!" and sending him on his way.
(, Thu 19 Jan 2006, 16:33, Reply)
i haven't.. but in barcelona my friend kinda did....
Last year, myself and 3 other mates went to www.sonar.es - a wicked music festival in barcelona. We flew over a few days before the festival began to make it a bit of a holiday.

In typical fashion, we all went a bit overboard on the first night. The "yay! we're on holiday" mentality really kicked in. Again, it being the first night, we went out at a time a brit would, and carried on drinking until the time a spaniard would stop. Effectively doubling the typical consumption for a night out :) Now, you know an evening was heavy when all 4 of you lose each other and come back on your own. This was our first night out, and fortunately 3 of us had managed to make a mental note of where our appartment was. Our 4th man hadn't.

He shall be the star of this tale. It came until the next morning, and he'd still not turned up back at the apartment - then as we're getting ready for a wander, he comes in at 3pm and just collapses.

It turns out - he'd come out of a club at chucking out time, when a whore then offered some services. He thought he'd play if safe and just get a blow job, she used a condom too. When this had finished, he went to pay her, when he realised he had no cash on him. So the drunk/guilt logic of an idiot - her gave her his mobile phone as payment. This was his mistake.

He was then lost in an alien city, with no idea where he was, where his appartment was, and no means of contacting us. He wandered the streets for hours, slept on a park bench for a while then eventually around lunch time had a flash back and managed to get a cab back.

After his nap that afternoon he met us at a bar, went for a piss then came out looking disgusted. He'd gone for a piss and realised he still had the condom on. haha.
(, Thu 19 Jan 2006, 15:31, Reply)
No. But here's a prossy tale...
I was a skinny, acne ridden 17 year old making my way through the back streets of Soho to get to my favorite record shop in Greek St. Two rather haggard looking ladies asked me if I "had the time" and like a fool I apologised for not wearing a watch.
Amidst the laughing, hag number 1 explains that she was offering me "a fuck for money". I didn't want to offend by refusing, so instead I lied and told her I was gay. Hag number 2 says "That’s alright then, you can do me up the arse and pretend I'm a bloke."
I scurried off and from a safe distance shouted "I'm not really gay you know."
That sure showed them...
(, Mon 23 Jan 2006, 23:00, Reply)
Not exactly...
...but I did get some excellent advice from a cabbie in Las Vegas, while the Consumer Electronics Show was in full swing.

"You looking for girls?"
"Not really."
"Just as well. They all triple their prices when the desperate geeks are in town."

(, Mon 23 Jan 2006, 12:51, Reply)

This question is now closed.

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