Creator: Silver Screen Collection | Credit: Getty Images Copyright: 2016 Silver Screen Collection
When I was a young man I watched the movie Cabaret and fell in love with Sally Bowles played by Liza Minnelli. On stage Sally exuded self confident sexuality but off stage she was sweet and vulnerable. I was so taken with the world the film portrayed that I began to read the Chistopher Isherwood books it was based on. The city described by Isherwood was living on borrowed time and the Nazis destroyed that freedom and in the years that followed the Soviet Union imposed a drab authoritarian regime on half the city while the western half was an isolated outpost of capitalism.
If I had been a time traveller I would have headed for the Berlin of Isherwood but in the real world all I could do was watch the film again and again and fantasize about Liza/Sally (I’m sure that is where my love of a woman in stockings and suspenders started) And then the wall came down and the city came back to life.
In the years after I had to visit the city often for work and explored it’s bars, cafes, galleries, museums and inevitably its brothels. There was an enlightened view of sex work that meant it was legal and well managed. There were numerous brothels which had none of the seediness that was common in London and the women who worked there were treated well.
I had only a little German but most of the girls spoke English and I had some wonderful relaxed afternoons that made me love the city even more. Many of those brothels have gone and there are now some mega brothels in their place. I haven’t visited them myself and they have no appeal to me. I have it on good authority, however, that if you are young and enjoy sex there are plenty of places where you will find like minded people. Sadly I while I enjoy sex and still love pushing my limits an apparently respectable old man is unlikely to be welcome in such places.
The extraordinary Templehof airport in the city centre where we used to land and walk straight to our hotel (and where the planes flew in during the Berlin AirLift) is long gone and the city itself has changed at a staggering pace though it still retains some of its charm and some extraordinary historical reminders. Sitting in the national stadium watching Hertha Berlin play just a few yards from where Hitler had addressed those huge crowds was a strange experience.
I rarely visit these days and when I do my wife is with me. But I do miss the sex. Having illicit sex felt like I was honouring the tradition of decadence that Berlin had for so many years. One of the old style brothels does survive though. Liberty rather splendidly is just behind the famous KaDeWe department store on the Kudam! When we visit that store I hope my wife doesn’t notice the wistful look on my face. I keep hoping that something will come up requiring me to visit the city alone one more time - even a day trip so I could relive one of those afternoons of 30 years ago would make an old man happy!.
We're gonna let it all hang out
We're gonna chug-a-lug and shout
We're gonna cause talk and suspicion
Give an exhibition
Find out what it is all about
J J Cale - After Midnight
Not really about "Ceremony" WW#390 although given half a chance I make it something of a ritual - not writing much at the moment so sharing this while its fresh
Once, before the internet, I lived alone in a part of town where there was a local paper published every Friday. At the back of the paper in the personals were advertisements for massage parlours and escort agencies. Sometimes I would find myself late in the evening wanting to fuck a woman and the newspaper would call out to me.
Finally I would give in and look at the ads, circle an agency and call the number. The receptionist would begin by letting me know who was working that evening but back then I wasn’t looking for any particular kinks just a good looking woman who was ready to be fucked. Back then I could drink a lot but still get rock hard without any assistance so it was straightforward hard cock in tight vagina I wanted. Once we had established that someone like "Blonde Jennifer aged 25" was available and could be with me in 30 minutes, we agreed on the length of her visit and the price and I put down the phone.
My heart would be racing by now and I had to get ready. I would take a shower but I didn’t pay the same attention to personal grooming as I do now. I certainly didn't shave my genitals but then it was very unlikely that Blonde Jennifer would be shaved either but I would be clean and sweet smelling when she arrived. The anticipation was excruciating as I imagined what she might look like, whether she would be wearing stockings, how she would speak but above all how she would behave. Would she be businesslike and just want to get it over with or would she accept my offer of a drink and chat for a while letting me feast on glimpses of her thighs and breasts before kissing me?
The street door buzzer disturbed my reverie and I felt my cock instantly harden. This was it – she was standing outside the block and I quickly moved to the door and let her in saying I’m in flat 14 on the second floor. It was nearly 1 am and the noise of her heels on the stone stairs seemed incredibly loud as she made her way up. I now faced a dilemma – did I open the door fully and watch her as she emerged from the stair or wait until she was almost outside? Despite my excitement I would make myself wait until I could hear her approach the door.
Now it was game on – in a few second I would see the woman who would be ready to open her legs and let me push my penis into her cunt. The thrill of seeing the face of that stranger is simply one of the best things I did, and still do – what comes later will be satisfying but nothing compares to those first few seconds. This time she is beautiful, she is smiling, she is dressed in a way that emphasises her figure and she is here to be fucked.
I have no idea how many times I did this and albeit in a different ways that thrill is something I still pursue and those escorts who don’t reveal their faces like Jade or Carla have given me some utterly memorable sessions. Two of those encounters from that time stick in my mind. There was the girl with long brown hair who dressed like she was heading for the local pub rather than a sexual encounter. She was pretty and spoke openly about only working occasionally as an escort. She said she enjoyed having sex and if she didn’t have a regular boyfriend she contacted the agency and asked them to arrange a few clients for her. The mind plays funny tricks and I remember clearly that she was wearing a pair of really good fishnet stockings that I took great delight in caressing as I move towards her vagina to prepare it for penetration.
The other was a a slim short haired blonde in her early twenties who seemed a little nervous when she arrived and reluctant to remove her clothes. Eventually she confessed that she wasn’t really an escort at all! She was the receptionist and when I called she was knew that all the escorts were busy and wouldn't be making any more visits that night. She was, of course, well aware that they would be paid more for having sex with a single client than she would for a whole shift and she had decided to take the booking herself. My first reaction was to tell her to leave but she persuaded me that she really was happy for me to fuck her and removed her her skirt and knickers to prove it. Strangely she insisted on keeping her tee shirt on however. She proved to be an enthusiastic partner but years later I realised what an opportunity I missed. A young pretty girl was giving me the opportunity to be her first paying customer and I should have given her encouragement and support and taught her how to please me rather than just fuck her. It is something that I really only learned later – the best escorts will be very clear and even matter of fact about sex but if you make an effort to ensure the experience is enjoyable for them too you will be rewarded! I know escorts who have orgasms with me and I am certain they are for real and I am always clear that I am happy to do whatever it is that they enjoy in return for the pleasure they give me. It would never have occurred to me back then that some girls really do get a kick out of fucking men with a strap on but I am glad I found out.
The wider world has changed just as my private world has changed in the years since but the thrill of hearing those high heels clicking toward my door remains with me still. In fact I think I shall have very soon have to go to a hotel and arrange for a complete stranger to come knocking at my door after midnight one more time!
Red red wine, you give me not awful love
Your kind of lovin' like a blessing from above"
Red, Red Wine written by Neil Diamond and released by UB40 in 1983
"Frigid" as the prompt for WW 381 triggered a memory that had been buried for years - and left me with mixed feelings - sad that I lost touch with someone I really liked but also feeling positive about some really good times my younger self enjoyed back then.
Its London, 1985 and the organisation I work for is slowly dying thanks to Margaret Thatcher. My team are young and if we are going down we are doing it in style.
The occasional drink after work turns into all night sessions then weekend parties. We drink from early till late, play UB40 records and smoke marijuana when we can get it. And some of us have sex.
She is a friend of one the team and joins us sometimes. I find myself talking to her in the pub late one evening. She has long dark hair and eyes like deep pools hinting of forbidden pleasures. She wears short skirts that show off legs that go on forever. And her laugh makes you want to hug her.
Nothing is ever said but each time we are out with the crowd we gravitate towards each other. One Saturday after a party I walk her home. She invites me in and it seems rude to refuse. In her bed I finally learn that the promise her thighs have been making is real - they are strong and firm but readily open to let me in.
It is winter but the window is open and the temperature is close to zero. At first the drink and the drugs and her body let me ignore this. I learn that it is possible to be rock hard and shivering at the same time as my cock spread her lips and pushes deep inside. At least it is warm in there.
Our organisation dies. Her boyfriend gets a new job and spends more time at home. She can't sleep in my flat because its too warm. I go to parties alone, get drunk and fuck other women.
We never talked about it but one day I realise it is over a month since I've seen her. Mobile phones are just coming on the market but ordinary people don't have them when the cost £2,000 so I can only call her land line but its her boyfriend who answers so I hang up.
A few years later I'm between jobs and killing time in central London and I hear her voice. We talk briefly but she has a business appointment. Anyway it is summer and she is wearing a long skirt. The eyes still have it but the thighs are not on display. Neither of us calls to fix that drink we said we would have together.
I lie in a warm bed and think about what might have been - would we even recognise each other now - and then I realise I can't remember her name only her face - and those thighs - and that laugh!
Frigid as in bitterly cold? Most definitely. Frigid as in a woman who doesn't like sex? No way - she taught me that even when its freezing sex can be hot, so damned hot.....
An old man called Mike remembers sex in London before the internet, rants about the hypocrisy of today's society and shares some links to the best companions around today......