Eventually, Bob and I found a juicy bar called The Joy Club. An attractive hostess seated us across from each other in a booth which featured a long wooden table and comfortable padded benches. She brought us two beers and then walked away.
Bob said, “Is she a prostitute?”
“I have no idea. I’ve never been to one of these places before.”
“But you’re the expert, right? You’ve done it with hookers, haven’t you? I’m new to this lifestyle.”
“I’ve never actually had sex with a hooker—if the truth be known.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look. I’m not proud to say this, but in the past, I’ve gotten blowjobs on two occasions by a couple of crack whores.”
Bob’s jaw dropped. “A couple of crack whores? I don’t know what to say. I’ve never actually met a man who’s done something that gross and disgusting. You’re full of surprises.”
“I hope this information doesn’t lower your opinion of me.”
“Not to worry. From the first day I met you, I never held you in high esteem. And I mean that as a compliment.”
Suddenly, two Korean ladies approached our table and took a seat. They were both in their mid-thirties—which made them seem like old ladies to a couple of twenty-somethings like us. But they were pretty and they smelled nice, so neither of us complained.
The hostess appeared again. “You buy da girls a dwink?”
I said, “Sure. Bring them a couple of beers.”
The hostess said, “Girl not rike beer. Dey rike da mix dwink.”
Bob said, “That’s fine. Get them what they want.”
It was obvious that we weren’t going to have much of a conversation. The women spoke very little English. They only knew enough to tell us their names and their favorite colors. But they weren’t there to talk. After getting her cocktail, my new girlfriend started brazenly rubbing my crotch.
Bob said, “Is she playing with your cock?”
I nodded. “She sure is.”
“Mine is, too. Do you think they’re prostitutes?”
“I would say so.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. In my opinion, they are just being friendly.”
“Are you crazy? Who else but a prostitute is going to stroke your Johnson?”
“Maybe they want to get to know us better.”
I turned to my woman. “Me and you sex?”
She took me by the hand and steered me to the back of the bar. We ascended a staircase which led to many little bedrooms. Her residence was located behind the third door on the right. She became quite angry because I entered without taking off my shoes. She waved her arms up and down until I eventually got the hint.
Then she said, “Money.”
I said, “How much?”
She held up eight fingers which meant that she wanted eighty thousand won. In those days, that was more than a hundred bucks. I handed her the cash, and she took off her dress. Her body looked pretty damn good. Her tits were still firm in spite of her age, and she had a nice flat belly. But my favorite part was her pussy hair. She hadn’t shaved that bush in ages. It was massive.
I tried to stick my finger in her vagina, but she was having none of that. She immediately slapped my hand away. Foreplay probably required more money.
After that, she put a condom on my pecker. Then she climbed on the bed and got on her hands and knees. I mounted her like a dirty old Billy goat and thrust my dick back and forth for a good ten minutes before finally shooting my load into the rubber.
When we had finished, we both sat on the edge of the bed and shared a cigarette. Then we walked back downstairs and took our seats in the booth. Bob was still sitting next to his whore.
He said, “That didn’t take long. How much did she charge you?”
“One hundred dollars.”
“Are you going to take yours for a spin?”
He frowned. “I just can’t do it. I don’t know why, but I can’t.”
Later that night as we were walking down the street, he said, “What will you remember the most about your encounter?”
I didn’t give the question much thought.
“The sound of my balls slapping up against her flesh. It made me feel like an animal.”