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)
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)
This question is now closed.
I have and I haven't...
While in Magaluf on a holiday with friends we were assured that a certain booby bar was "where it's at." Myself and an equally unbeknownst friend entered said bar to see what the craic was. There was no craic. Just us a black hefty barman and 4 black "women."
Now we were placed in a very difficult situation, being the average brit it is difficult to simply turn around and walk out of such an establishment, I doubt it could be assumed we had no idea it was sleazy when the sign for the bar was a pair of neon flashing tits.
So we ordered a drink at the bar, around €10 for a can of Heineken I might add, and not the 440/500ml either. We sat down on the easy to wipe leather sofa's and tried to drink our drink as quickly as possible. However, we appeared to be the only customers of the night and were set upon by the ladies of negotiable affection. We had 2 each stroking us in places that I'd rather not strangers stroked me.
Already long story a bit less long, myself and one of the ladies began arguing over how much money I had. I said I literally had none left, it being the last day of the holiday. The argument continued until I foolishly said: "check the card, I guarantee there's nothing on there." They swiped it at the bar and returned with a recipt. Confused I still protested I had no money in my account and refused to sign, walking out shortly after a most embarassing series of events.
What made matters worse afterwards, I realised it was actually past midnight in England making it now Thursday. Or payday as it is know. Curse that damn holiday pay, curse it to hell, because that's 80 pounds and a curious bank manager I will never be able to recover from.
( , Thu 19 Jan 2006, 18:17, Reply)
While in Magaluf on a holiday with friends we were assured that a certain booby bar was "where it's at." Myself and an equally unbeknownst friend entered said bar to see what the craic was. There was no craic. Just us a black hefty barman and 4 black "women."
Now we were placed in a very difficult situation, being the average brit it is difficult to simply turn around and walk out of such an establishment, I doubt it could be assumed we had no idea it was sleazy when the sign for the bar was a pair of neon flashing tits.
So we ordered a drink at the bar, around €10 for a can of Heineken I might add, and not the 440/500ml either. We sat down on the easy to wipe leather sofa's and tried to drink our drink as quickly as possible. However, we appeared to be the only customers of the night and were set upon by the ladies of negotiable affection. We had 2 each stroking us in places that I'd rather not strangers stroked me.
Already long story a bit less long, myself and one of the ladies began arguing over how much money I had. I said I literally had none left, it being the last day of the holiday. The argument continued until I foolishly said: "check the card, I guarantee there's nothing on there." They swiped it at the bar and returned with a recipt. Confused I still protested I had no money in my account and refused to sign, walking out shortly after a most embarassing series of events.
What made matters worse afterwards, I realised it was actually past midnight in England making it now Thursday. Or payday as it is know. Curse that damn holiday pay, curse it to hell, because that's 80 pounds and a curious bank manager I will never be able to recover from.
( , Thu 19 Jan 2006, 18:17, 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)
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)
Standard answer
I paid for it with my ps2 when my ex nicked it. Never mind though, I kept hold of the controllers and sold them on ebay :).
( , Thu 19 Jan 2006, 17:23, Reply)
I paid for it with my ps2 when my ex nicked it. Never mind though, I kept hold of the controllers and sold them on ebay :).
( , Thu 19 Jan 2006, 17:23, Reply)
I paid with pain...
... those cocktail umbarellas down the jap's eye to scrape the clap out are bloody sore.
( , Thu 19 Jan 2006, 17:18, Reply)
... those cocktail umbarellas down the jap's eye to scrape the clap out are bloody sore.
( , Thu 19 Jan 2006, 17:18, Reply)
Yep.
I got trousered and slept (that's slept as in STAYED IN A BED - nothing else, not that it made a blind bit of difference) with an ex three months into my last ostensibly decent relationship. I fucking paid for it, I'll tell you - I paid for it with all my CDs (burnt), my guitar (smashed) and my clothes (shredded), and continued paying for it until the raving, emotionally unstable lunatic that had, pre-boozy indiscretion, been 'in love' (pfft, right) with me moved to France to live with her mum and probably suck her meals through a straw while gazing blankly at the skirting board and scrabbling at her wrists. I think I'm still paying in residual guilt now, but to be honest the installments are fucking miniscule these days and I can never be arsed to open my blame statements anyway.
( , Thu 19 Jan 2006, 17:15, Reply)
I got trousered and slept (that's slept as in STAYED IN A BED - nothing else, not that it made a blind bit of difference) with an ex three months into my last ostensibly decent relationship. I fucking paid for it, I'll tell you - I paid for it with all my CDs (burnt), my guitar (smashed) and my clothes (shredded), and continued paying for it until the raving, emotionally unstable lunatic that had, pre-boozy indiscretion, been 'in love' (pfft, right) with me moved to France to live with her mum and probably suck her meals through a straw while gazing blankly at the skirting board and scrabbling at her wrists. I think I'm still paying in residual guilt now, but to be honest the installments are fucking miniscule these days and I can never be arsed to open my blame statements anyway.
( , Thu 19 Jan 2006, 17:15, Reply)
No........
I have not, and can't really see myself doing it either.
( , Thu 19 Jan 2006, 17:09, Reply)
I have not, and can't really see myself doing it either.
( , Thu 19 Jan 2006, 17:09, Reply)
Never with money...
...only with my own pain, suffering and misery. But I guess that doesn't count.
Anyway, whores at least have the moral standards to be honest (unlike some people I can think of).
( , Thu 19 Jan 2006, 17:08, Reply)
...only with my own pain, suffering and misery. But I guess that doesn't count.
Anyway, whores at least have the moral standards to be honest (unlike some people I can think of).
( , Thu 19 Jan 2006, 17:08, Reply)
Chesty
There is a bloke like that around here, my ex used to work with him, he charges like 60 quid an hour and just takes them for a meal (they pay) and dancing.
No sex or anything, easy way to make a few bob.
( , Thu 19 Jan 2006, 17:04, Reply)
There is a bloke like that around here, my ex used to work with him, he charges like 60 quid an hour and just takes them for a meal (they pay) and dancing.
No sex or anything, easy way to make a few bob.
( , Thu 19 Jan 2006, 17:04, 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)
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)
nope!
because it's so damn easy to get. A little bit of cleavage waggling, eyelash flickering, a couple of free drinks to make him think he's seducing you, and then a whisper of 'i'm not wearing any knickers' while doin' the tango. works every time.
But back to the question, an ex of mine used to rent himself to rich old ladies of an evening - no sex mind, just a bit of flirting, laughing and hand stroking. He liked it.
( , Thu 19 Jan 2006, 16:31, Reply)
because it's so damn easy to get. A little bit of cleavage waggling, eyelash flickering, a couple of free drinks to make him think he's seducing you, and then a whisper of 'i'm not wearing any knickers' while doin' the tango. works every time.
But back to the question, an ex of mine used to rent himself to rich old ladies of an evening - no sex mind, just a bit of flirting, laughing and hand stroking. He liked it.
( , Thu 19 Jan 2006, 16:31, 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)
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)
Yes
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)
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)
Swap
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)
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)
No, and this is really quite shocking...
the amount of you lot that have! i thought paying for sex was the seedy resort of the middle aged singleton...
ah, that explains it.
Closest i ever got was walking home pissed at 3am past a 'lady of the night' who asked me, 'looking for anything tonight, sir?' i laughed and said 'no ta', and then asked her if she wanted a chip.
Turns out she did.
( , Thu 19 Jan 2006, 16:23, Reply)
the amount of you lot that have! i thought paying for sex was the seedy resort of the middle aged singleton...
ah, that explains it.
Closest i ever got was walking home pissed at 3am past a 'lady of the night' who asked me, 'looking for anything tonight, sir?' i laughed and said 'no ta', and then asked her if she wanted a chip.
Turns out she did.
( , Thu 19 Jan 2006, 16:23, Reply)
I haven't paid for sex...
... but I have inadvertantly announced myself to be a lady of the night before now.
Almost missed the bus a few months ago as I stopped to pick up 20p I saw lying on the ground (I have no shame, OK?). When discussing this act of peasantry with friends that night, I uttered the immortal line "I wouldn't go down for less than 20p".
Never been allowed to forget that one.
( , Thu 19 Jan 2006, 16:17, Reply)
... but I have inadvertantly announced myself to be a lady of the night before now.
Almost missed the bus a few months ago as I stopped to pick up 20p I saw lying on the ground (I have no shame, OK?). When discussing this act of peasantry with friends that night, I uttered the immortal line "I wouldn't go down for less than 20p".
Never been allowed to forget that one.
( , Thu 19 Jan 2006, 16:17, Reply)
I was walking along the front on Copacabana beach (as you do)
when a not unattractive lady of the night, came up to me asking if I was interested. Suddenly she grabbed my nuts, laughed and then walked off.
I laughed too, but a bit further on, I suddenly realized that she'd pickpocketed 3 quid from my trousers when she grabbed my nuts.
But I then realized that many people would pay more than 3 quid to have their nuts grabbed.
( , Thu 19 Jan 2006, 16:11, Reply)
when a not unattractive lady of the night, came up to me asking if I was interested. Suddenly she grabbed my nuts, laughed and then walked off.
I laughed too, but a bit further on, I suddenly realized that she'd pickpocketed 3 quid from my trousers when she grabbed my nuts.
But I then realized that many people would pay more than 3 quid to have their nuts grabbed.
( , Thu 19 Jan 2006, 16:11, Reply)
A few years back
me, my brother & a friend went to an 'exotic bar' in Soho (London), mainly because the pubs had closed and we wanted a drink, but also to see what one looked like.
We went in and sat down. Next thing, this rather dubious-looking woman came over and sat down next to us with a tray, and took our drinks order (3 beers). She went and got the drinks, chatted for about 5 minutes, and wandered off again. Suddenly, for some reason (call it instinct), I got a bit suspicious at this point, and asked to look at the bill. It was as follows;
3 beers - £30
Hostess charge - £90
Total - £120
"Fuck ME!" I exclaimed, "there's no way I'm paying THAT! You've got to be fucking joking!".
Then, right on cue, 2 extremely large men came and sat with us, and calmly explained what would happen to us if we didn't. So we paid very quickly and left. £120 for 3 beers and a 5-minute chat with a lady who looked like Keith Richards. Holy shit.
Sorry - only very slightly linked to the original question.
Oh - and the answer's no.
( , Thu 19 Jan 2006, 16:10, Reply)
me, my brother & a friend went to an 'exotic bar' in Soho (London), mainly because the pubs had closed and we wanted a drink, but also to see what one looked like.
We went in and sat down. Next thing, this rather dubious-looking woman came over and sat down next to us with a tray, and took our drinks order (3 beers). She went and got the drinks, chatted for about 5 minutes, and wandered off again. Suddenly, for some reason (call it instinct), I got a bit suspicious at this point, and asked to look at the bill. It was as follows;
3 beers - £30
Hostess charge - £90
Total - £120
"Fuck ME!" I exclaimed, "there's no way I'm paying THAT! You've got to be fucking joking!".
Then, right on cue, 2 extremely large men came and sat with us, and calmly explained what would happen to us if we didn't. So we paid very quickly and left. £120 for 3 beers and a 5-minute chat with a lady who looked like Keith Richards. Holy shit.
Sorry - only very slightly linked to the original question.
Oh - and the answer's no.
( , Thu 19 Jan 2006, 16:10, Reply)
no
but i'll tell you about the two best prostitutes i've seen.
the first was the town tart - she was about 20 stone, wore green with white polka dot 'figure' hugging minidresses with white stilettos and a dyed black beehive. i have no idea why a female prostitute would model herself on Divine, but there you go.
driving through Havana, Cuba, late one night in the back of a chevvy taxi with friends, we drove slowly past THE MOST AMAZING RENT BOY. a pretty-boy buff latino lad, he had on a full Gaultier-style sailor's outfit and cap, red lip gloss, flicked eyeliner and mascara, with a gel curl by each ear. he was completely,unrealistically perfect, looking just like a Pierre et Gilles photo (look it up). you don't see efforts like that at kings cross.
( , Thu 19 Jan 2006, 16:07, Reply)
but i'll tell you about the two best prostitutes i've seen.
the first was the town tart - she was about 20 stone, wore green with white polka dot 'figure' hugging minidresses with white stilettos and a dyed black beehive. i have no idea why a female prostitute would model herself on Divine, but there you go.
driving through Havana, Cuba, late one night in the back of a chevvy taxi with friends, we drove slowly past THE MOST AMAZING RENT BOY. a pretty-boy buff latino lad, he had on a full Gaultier-style sailor's outfit and cap, red lip gloss, flicked eyeliner and mascara, with a gel curl by each ear. he was completely,unrealistically perfect, looking just like a Pierre et Gilles photo (look it up). you don't see efforts like that at kings cross.
( , Thu 19 Jan 2006, 16:07, Reply)
I'm married
so of course I bloody well have. Every time the wife goes shopping.
( , Thu 19 Jan 2006, 16:06, Reply)
so of course I bloody well have. Every time the wife goes shopping.
( , Thu 19 Jan 2006, 16:06, Reply)
As Andrew Dice Clay put it...
"I bought you fuckin pizza"
Never paid for it in the "sucky fucky, 5 bucks" manner, but Ive paid for my fair share of "dry white wines" over the years.
No moral high horse here though, just I suppose I've always been kinda lucky!
( , Thu 19 Jan 2006, 15:59, Reply)
"I bought you fuckin pizza"
Never paid for it in the "sucky fucky, 5 bucks" manner, but Ive paid for my fair share of "dry white wines" over the years.
No moral high horse here though, just I suppose I've always been kinda lucky!
( , Thu 19 Jan 2006, 15:59, Reply)
My Geordie Mate..
Is an absolute filth bag. On his year off, he managed to find himself in some town in colubia - fancying a shag(as you do), he decided to propostion a few whores.... waving the five dollars he has to his name in their faces. They all point in one direction. Once at said location the whore in question politely turns around, offering our friend "the back door". Winner- haway the lads! Now our friend contents that he went for the reacharound before insertion but we think he went through with it, then found the meat-and-two-veg, cracked the bloke, and grabbed his five dollars back and then went on (unsucessfully) to find a new "lady". Notably he got chased by the pimp the next day..... oh how we all laughed..
I think length and girth are both Whorely appropriate here...
( , Thu 19 Jan 2006, 15:49, Reply)
Is an absolute filth bag. On his year off, he managed to find himself in some town in colubia - fancying a shag(as you do), he decided to propostion a few whores.... waving the five dollars he has to his name in their faces. They all point in one direction. Once at said location the whore in question politely turns around, offering our friend "the back door". Winner- haway the lads! Now our friend contents that he went for the reacharound before insertion but we think he went through with it, then found the meat-and-two-veg, cracked the bloke, and grabbed his five dollars back and then went on (unsucessfully) to find a new "lady". Notably he got chased by the pimp the next day..... oh how we all laughed..
I think length and girth are both Whorely appropriate here...
( , Thu 19 Jan 2006, 15:49, Reply)
Paid for it but didn't get it!
It was 1981 on holiday with older brother in Palma Spain (I was only 17)and we ended up going drinking with a load of American Marines.
In a brothel with them and one of the marines is too skint to pay for a shag. So my very drunk brother decides to be generous with my money, grabs my wallet, gives him a fistful of pesetas and says "Lonny, have one on us!".
Next day he's showing us pictures of his wife and telling us how much he loves her with not an ounce of guilt.
So there you go. Paid for it but didn't get it.
( , Thu 19 Jan 2006, 15:47, Reply)
It was 1981 on holiday with older brother in Palma Spain (I was only 17)and we ended up going drinking with a load of American Marines.
In a brothel with them and one of the marines is too skint to pay for a shag. So my very drunk brother decides to be generous with my money, grabs my wallet, gives him a fistful of pesetas and says "Lonny, have one on us!".
Next day he's showing us pictures of his wife and telling us how much he loves her with not an ounce of guilt.
So there you go. Paid for it but didn't get it.
( , Thu 19 Jan 2006, 15:47, Reply)
What!?! Whuh.... Of course not!
What sort of depraved animal do you take me for?
Who have you been talking to, Gladys?! What photos?
Ooooooooh, those photos.
Now I can explain, Gladys.
( , Thu 19 Jan 2006, 15:47, Reply)
What sort of depraved animal do you take me for?
Who have you been talking to, Gladys?! What photos?
Ooooooooh, those photos.
Now I can explain, Gladys.
( , Thu 19 Jan 2006, 15:47, Reply)
This question is now closed.