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PutaTester

West Coast. He who dies with the most memories wins.

I was in Santiago Chile, hanging out with a fellow monger. We went to a few strip clubs which were a total waste of time. We went to what is known as “coffee with legs.” There I met a very hot lady that my fluent Spanish speaking fellow monger had picked out for me and paved the way. Four sessions with her during my trip made the entire trip worthwhile.

But that is another story. This is both funny and sad. There is a Town Square, Plaza de Armas, where a lot of street walkers hang out. Most of them are big breasted, big-assed, and with varying waistlines. My understanding is that most are from Venezuela, because there the economy is total shit. Their activities are very much in the open as prostitution is tolerated in Chile. I typically avoid street walkers, as I don’t like the wham bam. But I was bored and curious and my go-to girl was not available, so I thought that I would TOFTT. Worst case, it would be an adventure. And it was…worst case.

The first time I saw her, she was wearing Spandex bottoms and a tight top. Seemed to be the Street Walker uniform. Indeed, Spandex is quite popular in South America, to the delight of ass men everywhere. I couldn’t see her face, because there was a mask mandate in this country at the time.

For the next two days when I pass through the park, I would see her and several dozen others looking for clients all day long and most of the evening. I did see her connect with one client, and watch them through the exchange of funds done in public. She then led him toward a hotel, and I went on my way that day.

On the third day, I decided to try out the local talent in the Square. As it happened, she approached me just as I was considering approaching her. We chatted briefly in my very limited Spanish, and she came across as being personable. She asked to take me to the hotel. Her price was 50000 Chilean pesos or about $50US. We had another little discussion that included her agreeing to allow me to take pictures of her without clothes. She took my hand and lead me toward the hotel. I noticed that her hand was a little rougher than expected. Note that I have still at this point not yet seen her face. No matter, as I simply wanted to satisfy my curiosity about the whole process more than satisfying my lust.

We entered the hotel where there was a sign-in sheet. It was just a manned desk at the bottom of the stairs, as opposed to a formal hotel check-in window. I was asked to provide my passport and sign in with my passport number. She also was required to provide identification, even though she was probably well known. There were quite a number of people going up and down the stairs on an ongoing basis, not always in pairs, but it was clear that the girls were working girls. Many of whom I had not seen in the square. There was a steady flow. I had passed by the location the day before and recall that there was a line at the desk.

She led me up four flights of stairs, and then across the room and down another flight of stairs. A bit of a hike for me. She opened the door to the room with a key, but there were others already inside the room. The room was a small hotel room that had been divided into two segments with a queen size bed in each and not much else. Not exactly a romantic environment. (Tijuana street girl hotels have more class.) The room she wanted was actually occupied by someone else. We waited for a few minutes while the person got their things together and left the room. No changing of sheets or other items. She sprayed some of what I assume is a disinfectant over the bed, sat down and indicated that I should sit next to her.

I took out my camera, and she said absolutely no pictures. I told her that that was our agreement to begin with, but she wouldn’t back down. So I decided to go forward anyway just to take one for the team. (I keep saying that, because the experience wasn’t going downhill, it was over the cliff and nobody was naked…yet.) She took off her mask and was actually a bit younger than I expected. Her face was in the six category, so she was pleasant to look at, but nothing special.

She stripped off her top and I expected her to reveal a very firm bra. However, there was no bra, just two giant boulders secured to her chest that had been mistaken for tits. I felt them and they literally felt like rocks. They were so overdone her nipples didn’t show any texture. I tried sucking on them, but there was no give at all.

She asked me to sit next to her, and she opened up my pants. No preliminaries. No warm-up. Condom on and blow job began. She was very aggressive, so much so it was very offputting. She took me deep, but I was not feeling in the moment, and so was not very erect. That did not seem to deter her. She was going to make me cum no matter what it took, and that became the problem. She was actually causing me some discomfort. Never thought a blow job could hurt so bad. No teeth, but the chrome would be off the trailer hitch in a matter of minutes. I am surprised that she didn’t suck down the condom.

I wasn’t enjoying myself at all. I told her that we should stop and that I was going to leave. She wasn’t going to have it. She stripped down the rest of the way and indicated that I should do the same and lay down on the bed. In for a penny; in for a pound(ing). I complied, hoping the situation would improve.

A little more oral, and she tried to climb on cowgirl. However, I still wasn’t firm enough for penetration. I started to play with her chest rocks, but that actually turned me off much more than turning me on. She switched to reverse cowgirl, and I felt her ass was even harder than her tits. You could’ve banged her butt with a baseball bat, and I doubt she would feel it considering how firm and thick her implants were. Even her thighs were rock solid. She had excellent muscle tone, but her legs might have had implants. She had a Barbie shape, thanks to the same type of plastic used to manufacture the doll.

I don’t know what her expectations were, but everything was going seriously downhill. She changed, rotating through a number of positions in an apparent attempt to get me excited, but she wouldn’t settle down. All it did was make me more frustrated. She was moving my pants around as I had placed them on the bed to keep them in sight and I was starting to become concerned that she was going through my pockets. My pants are 511s, so most of the pockets with any valuables have zippers. Keeping an eye on her and my pants was yet another distraction. (Nothing went missing.)

I finally called a halt to this lunacy, but she kept insisting that she would make me cum. Clearly her technique did not align with my desire. I told her that I had been working (a lie), and that it wasn’t going to happen because I was so tired. I dressed as she continued to beg me to stay. At least she has enough pride in her work that she wanted to finish at all costs, and she wasn’t watching the clock. It was very distracting to hear others outside the bedsheet walls to put it mildly. There was a “spa” in Prague where the walls were just canvas and I was able to perform with the distractions, so if the situation had been just a little better or the girl had listened and slowed down a little, the visit might have been successful. First time I have ever walked out of a place without at least one pop.

Up the one flight of stairs and back down the four, I was out of there, shaken, but not stirred, and into a restaurant in the same building (Muu) where I treated myself to a fine Steak dinner.

I texted my cafe girl and she agreed to meet me for some lunch and afternoon delights the next day. That girl is an 8+, knows how to make a man feel special, focus, and make him cum. I got a semi just thinking about her (so I know this adventure was not the result of faulty equipment).

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JC2003

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herbtcat

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conan_mac_morna

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