Dunno, seems strange that OP would decide to visit a place with nothing but a credit card. If the girl wanted to get paid, she could have asked him to go downstairs to the atm. Also, Blue isn't the only one that gets paid, so it's hard to imagine her paying the house money to give a freebie that includes greek.
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What.......the ......hell just happened?
- Thread starter Emony1
- Start date
#metoo
I admire you both for sticking to your stories.
You have inspired me to finally tell my own.
I always hated putting my dick in a poop chute but whenever I fucked a girl up the ass she gave me a hundred dollars... sometimes more. For years it was how I funded all the girls I paid for the privilege of giving them foot massages and DATYing.
It was a humiliating cycle of punishment and reward and I vowed to crawl out of it by quitting the hobby cold turkey. I was successful for a few weeks but then one day I went to 40rd in Flushing to buy some roast duck and I was jumped by 3 women who dragged me up the stairs, threw me on a filthy mattress and took turns bouncing up and down on my rod until finally they were done with me and threw a stack of Benjamin’s on my used member.
I vowed never to go up that road again but the same scenario happened to me on Mott Street, Elizabeth Street and Lexington & 62nd. I started to avoid streets with Spa signs but it turns out there are UTR places everywhere... and I mean everywhere. Once I was in front of the Dakota and this tiny Japanese lady with long hair dragged me upstairs....
I was fired from my job because of my chronic absenteeism and inattention when I dragged myself in which means now I am totally reliant on this one unsustainable source of income. I’m trying to save money so I can retire when bitches no longer desire me but I just get so stressed that I end up blowing it all at Resorts World Casino or on designer shoes and craft single malt whiskey.
Women and their insatiable demands to get rammed up the ass are pure evil.
I admire you both for sticking to your stories.
You have inspired me to finally tell my own.
I always hated putting my dick in a poop chute but whenever I fucked a girl up the ass she gave me a hundred dollars... sometimes more. For years it was how I funded all the girls I paid for the privilege of giving them foot massages and DATYing.
It was a humiliating cycle of punishment and reward and I vowed to crawl out of it by quitting the hobby cold turkey. I was successful for a few weeks but then one day I went to 40rd in Flushing to buy some roast duck and I was jumped by 3 women who dragged me up the stairs, threw me on a filthy mattress and took turns bouncing up and down on my rod until finally they were done with me and threw a stack of Benjamin’s on my used member.
I vowed never to go up that road again but the same scenario happened to me on Mott Street, Elizabeth Street and Lexington & 62nd. I started to avoid streets with Spa signs but it turns out there are UTR places everywhere... and I mean everywhere. Once I was in front of the Dakota and this tiny Japanese lady with long hair dragged me upstairs....
I was fired from my job because of my chronic absenteeism and inattention when I dragged myself in which means now I am totally reliant on this one unsustainable source of income. I’m trying to save money so I can retire when bitches no longer desire me but I just get so stressed that I end up blowing it all at Resorts World Casino or on designer shoes and craft single malt whiskey.
Women and their insatiable demands to get rammed up the ass are pure evil.
Omg - thank you for sharing. I know the shame of it and feel your pain. I have had a similar experience and downward spiral. I didn't hit bottom though until 3 years ago when, after having volunteered to assist in a political campaign I ended up being kept captive and used to provide a stiff cock for female staffers and volunteers while the candidate and her personal assistant watched and took turns using a strapon on me while I did the other ladies. Sometimes I had to eat or fuck a couple of dozen a day to the point that my lips were chapped and my cock had callouses. They would put Cialis into my food but by the end of an afternoon I would have to snort some V to keep going. I am recovering now, and with the aid of my therapist Judy on 57th street and aversion therapy from all the wonderful gals on the 6th floor at 98 Mott I think I'll make it.
