Fragments 04

Back in the early 1990's I had a rough few months. I was on the down from the breakup of an eight plus year relationship that had ended politely enough in the circumstances. But I was still working to deal with a big hole in my life on the now non-existent home front. Work had been extremely demanding. Not the reason for the breakup - and actually a bit of a blessing in the circumstances. Kept me busy.

The firm was struggling to keep up with a number of complex build projects that we were trying to complete. It was not helped by the number of sub-contractors on the jobs plus the fact that some subs were working on more than one of our projects. As the Quality Control manager I was having a nightmarish time traveling all over, demanding reworks when stuff was not to spec and making myself thoroughly unpopular with our firm's project managers and the subs who we hired. It was like a constantly moving chess board where every night you had to revisit it and see what had fallen over or been lost during the day and then redeploying what we had left to get the jobs done. My inspection tours over Europe were a constant series of cancelled and rebooked flights as things changed. I was frazzled.

And for the next three days I was in Hamburg in Germany. At a conference that the firm had to have a face at to ensure people didn't forget we were in the business. Honestly it was a complete downer from the point of view of doing my day job. On the other hand, it meant I could take it a little easier and try and relax and recharge slightly in the decent hotel where the conference was being held. In those days rudimentary email and incredibly expensive cell phone calls kept things going in an emergency. The hotel fax machine (remember those?) did a number for me. My box was full of rolls of paper. I could deal with most by scribbling some notes on them and faxing them back, keeping my copy for reference.

Still, it was slightly relaxing. The room was decent and comfortable. Large king bed. Bath with water jets. A well stocked mini-bar. The TV had English language channels and others that if I paid a little more - provided other entertainment. They spoke a universal language where grunts and moans stood in for meaningful dialog.

My main job was to attend a couple of sessions and make sure I asked some questions to get our business name on the record. That and trawling the booths on the show floor, leaving my card on multiple stands and checking that nothing new had appeared in our line of business that I should be aware of. A big plus was no client meetings and no need to entertain anyone in the evenings. After checking the faxes - the evenings were mine.

I decided it would be fun to go check out the famous red light district of the Reeperbahn. Not really with any intent to partake. More to have a look and see what all the fuss was about. And it might be fun to find the Kaiserkeller where four lads from Liverpool got their start in the early 1960's. While I was sure it would be completely commercialised at this point - at least I could say "I've been there".

In preparation for the evening I "safed" myself. I divested myself of all items that would be a pest to replace if I got robbed. I ended up with just a roll of cash in my pocket and my hotel room key. All my ID and the like I left in my hotel room safe. Worst case I would have to get back to the hotel and ask for a new room key. I took a cab into the St. Paul's district and on the advice of my cab driver - he dropped me at one end of the street so I could walk the length of it taking in the atmosphere.

The Reeperbahn proved to be bright and gaudy and busy. Lot of stores selling tourist tat. A big emphasis on the "leather" look. Whether it for bondage or because people just liked leather waistcoats, jackets and boots. Much of it was overpriced - though the quality of some was pretty good. Most was pretty poor stuff.

There were LOTS of night clubs and bars. From what I could tell there was a distinction between those selling drink and food and atmosphere. And those that were strip clubs selling overpriced drinks and naked ladies. Or boys - if that was your thing. The Germans are so pragmatic about sex! Me - I was hungry for dinner.

I picked out a bar. My German was extremely rudimentary. Enough to be polite, ask where the bathroom was and order some food. And in a tourist location like the Reeperbahn - you were quickly "placed" and the reply would be in pretty good - if not impeccable English. Still, I liked to try and after the German had probably had a good laugh over my accent and limited vocabulary - there was usually a little respect for at least trying. I kept it simple and ordered a pig knuckle with fries and beer. German working man fare. Safe pub/bar food and it filled you up and set you up for the evening. I ate it pretty quickly and ordered another beer to help get a buzz on. Two beers wasn't really doing it and so as I got ready to leave and go and explore the streets a little more, I ordered and downed a Jägermeister to increase my blood alcohol a little before heading out.

Next stop was at one of the bars offering entertainment. There wasn't a cover - just expensive overpriced drinks. Being a single male - I was placed on a seat near the stage where numerous girls would twirl and quickly divest themselves of their skimpy clothes and then gyrate and display in front of you. The girls were not what you might call "pretty". They were hard bodied working girls who looked decent enough. Putting on a show in return for money. They rolled naked right in front of you, thrusting breasts forward rolling onto their asses and splaying their legs wide right in front of you leaving nothing to the imagination about the folds and shape of their shaved pussies. Looking you in the eye and mechanically smiling. After a couple of acts I cottoned on. Watching other guys - if they nodded and smiled at the girl - after her routine - she would come over and sit on your knee and lean into you. Pussies pressed onto your thigh, breasts brushing your chest as she asked you to buy them a drink. Within reason touching breasts and thighs seemed to be OK. Pushing a hand between the girls' legs was off limits. And you did have to buy them a drink first. They always asked for champagne. A bottle was an outrageous sum. Tiny "piccolo" bottles seemed to be the norm for which you got to feel the girl up a little - no doubt while she was figuring her cut from the bar and continuing to smile at you.

With another couple of beers in me - I had a good buzz on and figured perhaps I would at least get me a feel. I hadn't had any action since my breakup. It was a night off to relax after all. So as one statuesque blond with nice medium tits splayed her pussy at me during the next routine - I smiled and nodded at her. In due course the routine finished and a girl came and sat on my knee. But not my blond. A smaller, dark haired girl. Good looking enough in her way - but not the blond of my ambitions. I looked around and saw my blond getting ready to go on again. I caught her eye and gave her a quizzical look. She came right over and leaned into me from behind - her firm naked breasts pressing into my shoulder.

"New girl - she needs some practice. Be nice and buy her a drink - she will be very nice to you". All in English. Talk about spotting the tourist!

I bought her a "piccolo" and she let me feel her soft breasts and I also ran my hands over her tight ass hanging off the side of my thigh. I twitched slightly but she wasn't really what I had in mind. It also turned out that she had absolutely no English and my limited German didn't stretch to talking about sex. We fumbled around a little more and she gave me a pleading look. I bought her another drink, thanked her and decided to move on.

Out in the street again - the evening was hotting up. Crowds were surging up and down. Lots of couples were holding hands and taking in the sights. It wasn't all just single guys. Seemed like a night out on the Reeperbahn was fair game for all. Those ever-pragmatic Germans. I walked down the street till the action petered out, crossed over and worked my way back up the other side. I was slightly discouraged by the previous experience and didn't try another one of the entertainment bars again. I did pop into one bar and have another beer and a Jägermeister - just to keep the buzz on. But that was about it.

As I neared the top of the street again, I came to a large building where girls and some guys and some T-girls were ranged along the entire frontage and down either side street. It didn't take long to figure out that all these folks were for hire. It was like walking along the front of a department store checking the goods in the window. In the main the workers just posed and smiled. One or two said "Hello" or "Nice time?" But really the initiative was in my hands completely. As I walked along I looked ahead to the next block on the street. It was the main police station for the St Paul's area. Talk about making sure you were working in a "protected" area.

I decided to circle the first building and just check out the many folks on display, their bodies and costumes and just enjoy the view before heading back to the hotel. Along the front, down the side street. It seemed like any fantasy might be catered for. Leather was popular, but pretty, butch, those hip high bikini bottoms from the 1980's, mini skirt, midi-skirt, maxi-skirt, business attire with deep "V'd" blouses, sheer dresses, heels, boots, sandals, MILF look, even GILF look. All was there to be sampled if you were interested. It was October and not the warmest of nights. A lot of hard nipples were poking through costumes and many of the girls were wearing parka type jackets with fur lined hoods to stay warm. As you approached, they would open the front to let you look see, as you passed they would close them again to stay warm.

At the end of the side street I got to the back corner of the building. I could either walk across the back of the building and pick up the side street on the other side, which would be efficient in walking terms but probably disastrous in terms of getting robbed. Alternatively, I could retrace my steps and then work the other side of the building from the brightly lit front. Though quite buzzed I had the sense to decide that retracing my steps would be a good idea.

As I turned I glanced down the street at the back of the building and was intrigued to notice that part way down the street it was blocked off with a wooden fence. There was a gate and a bouncer on the gate. But I decided to walk around the bright lit side across the front and then back down the other side street. Again the multitude of possible kinks and fetishes and plain sex were on full display. It was interesting enough and I was mildly aroused by it. Semi-hard and just enjoying the feeling without rising ridiculously to the occasion. I got to the end of the second side street and looked around the corner at the back of the building. Another wooden fence, gate and bouncer. Clearly something interesting was going on at the back of the building. I had just enough of a buzz on to throw a little caution to the wind and go find out what.

I approached the bouncer at the gate. His first question caught me by surprise:

"You sober?" What was it about me - did I have ENGLISH stamped on my forehead?

"Not quite - but not stupid" was my honest reply.

He grunted and opened the gate "Don't cause trouble."

It wasn't quite what I expected. A short distance up the street I could see the other fence that blocked off the other end of the street. The back of the building - no flashing lights, gaudy displays or girls on display. Just a series of doors with signs over them. They advertised "Club Dungeon", "Leather Lounge", "Pain or Pleasure" and so on. One or two had small speakers over the doors playing the sounds of whips and screams. That was about it. I wasn't quite sure what to think. It wasn't my thing and in the dark and cold of the back of the building I felt an evening chill come over me. While I didn't hurry as such - I didn't spend too long in the street. Getting to the other end I passed back out through the gate.

"No?" queried the bouncer

"Not for me" was my reply.

"Gute Nacht" was his neutral response.

Back in the bright lights of the side street, opposite the police station - I got an illusion of warmth - but it was really another cold October night with flashing bright lights. I was still slightly buzzed and horny for some good hotel porn on the TV to finish my night. I headed for the main street to try and find a cab, briskly walking past the working girls.

It must have been a slow night. One of the girls broke ranks and stepped in front of me. As she did she opened her parka. Nothing outrageous. Knee high leather boots, a mid length skirt and a soft, fine wool, turtle neck sweater. Clearly with no bra underneath as her cold nipples advertised.

"Nice time?" she asked.

I looked at her. Not a teenager but probably half my age in her early 20's. Short mid-brown hair, fresh faced, button nose and freckles. A wide smile. Somewhat genuine compared to the mechanical smiles of the others. I paused for a moment. My cock twitched encouragement given the nipple display. I wondered how much cash I had left in my pocket.

"150 marks for a blow job, 300 for full sex. Nice warm room." she offered as if reading my mind.

I was quite sure I still had that. Probably something nearer 500 marks if I had kept track. I was not so buzzed that I couldn't figure that. But I was buzzed enough to feel a little more adventurous than the hotel room TV. I'd never actually done this before. Paid a lady. But this was Germany - right? They were fastidious about this stuff. Health checks, safe sex, and so on. Right? Should be OK.

I hesitated a moment and she started to close her parka and turn off the smile.

"OK" I said, "Sure."

She beamed. She took me by that arm like a prize and started to walk me up the side street to the Reeperbahn itself. Some of her fellow workers smiled. Others gave a slightly hateful look that she had stepped out of line and been so forward. We rounded the corner and walked along the front of the building to a small door set back between two bars. She leaned into the door - pressed a buzzer and there was a quick exchange of German which I could not follow and then the door buzzed open. She pulled me in. Well I was either about to get ripped off or something fun was going to happen. Glad I had "safed" myself back at the hotel and had nothing on me except some cash to lose.

A steep flight of stairs. Up we went till we were in some kind of a reception area. Music could be heard thumping from the bars below. She turned and looked at me.

"Blow job or full sex?"

"Full sex" was my response - though I did wonder how well my cock was going to perform given the beers and Jägermeisters I had consumed.

An older lady appeared from the shadows.

"You give her the money" said my new freckle, faced friend.

I did. I guessed this was to make sure the girl was not robbed by a dissatisfied client. And there would be the matter of the house share. I was not the only one taking precautions. The lady counted the money and nodded. My friend pulled gently on my arm and took me down a dimly lit hallway. Doors on either side - she took me though one of them. Comfortable enough. A rug, queen sized bed, some scarves and cloth hanging on the walls. A dim overhead light and a small sink in the corner.

"You wash" she said - pointing at the sink.

I went over and started to wash my hands. Not quite sure.

"No - pee pee" she indicated and also pointed at a bottle that seemed to contain some kind of antiseptic.

Then:

"You - clothes off".

I started to figure that unlike most Germans in contact with tourists she actually had limited English. Not a deal breaker - we just had to do some pointing and miming. I undressed and as requested scrubbed my dick with the fluid. Any sense of hotness to the situation evaporated and my dick fell very limp. Clinical German sex I thought to myself.

Meantime she had taken off her parka and also taken off her turtle neck sweater and boots. She was half reclined on the bed in her skirt and not a lot else. Her tits looked perfect. Not overly large. Just a firm handful that I like. Not overly wasteful. Topped with pert dark nipples and medium areolas. She patted the bed beside her and I lay beside her.

I reached out and tentatively touched her right breast. She sighed. I couldn't figure of it was an act. I'm sure it was. But I was encouraged that her nipple hardened and I enjoyed myself feeling her up and gently squeezing her breasts. After a few minutes my cock decided,it did want to play and started to rise a little. She noticed and reached down to offer it some encouragement, gently wanking me and holding my balls.

"Blow job first" she suggested.

She pushed me on my back and then lay across me - with her back to me and looking at my cock. I was semi hard and she grunted a bit and wanked me some more to encourage me. At the same time she rolled a condom onto me and wanked me more to keep me hard. I was trying to rise. Then she rolled a second condom onto me.

"Rules" she announced.

Then she started to bob her head up and down. Her bare back faced me in the dim light and I could not actually tell if she was blowing me or if it was just her hands. Her back hid her mouth from view. Two condoms and beer left me pretty numb. I reached forward and rubbed the shape of her ass through her skirt, then I reached under the hem and went exploring. Rubbing my way up her inner thighs I determined she was not wearing panties and things started to improve down at my cock. She noticed and redoubled her efforts. It was mildly pleasurable.

Trying to improve on things she stood up. She stood over my face facing my feet so I could see right up her skirt. In the dim light there was not much to see. But so she could bend forward at the waist to keep jerking me - she had to hitch her skirt up. The visual was quite spectacular. Her splayed legs, foot either side of my head - met in the most delicious "V" at her pussy which was shaved and on full display. Not an "innie" and not an "outie" with hanging labia - her pussy was pleasantly plump and her lips were slightly parted with a hint of her clit. If I raised my head to look at her hands on my cock I could see her upside down tits swaying as she leaned forward jerking me. My cock definitely got a lot harder.

"Tell me if cum, I stop, we full sex." was her next comment.

I lay in bliss - savouring the view of her puss between her long legs and imagining what it would be like to put my tip between her lips which were slightly parting and closing in rhythm to her jerking me. Another glance at her swaying tits. Fuck this was quite hot. Looking back up - she was tightening her calves to stay upright and that clenched her ass cheeks and I could see her rosebud winking at me as she jerked. I hardened some more. She cooed encouragement. There was a risk I might cum. My balls were beginning to clench and she was occasionally catching my tip in a way that could just set me off without warning.

"Eh...." I voiced.

She immediately stopped jerking. She stood up and unzipped her skirt and dropped it over my face. I caught the whiff of her pussy in the warm folds and then she lay beside me and threw the skirt away. Rolling on her back she spread wide and indicated I should kneel between her legs. I did - but as I swung upright the weight of all that beer pressed down on my full bladder and I immediately softened. She looked concerned.

"What wrong?"

"Ermmmm Bathroom?" I queried, looking over my shoulder at the door and cursing the extra beer.