Visited family in the States during the Christmas holidays, which included a week each in DC, LA and NYC. Did not do much mongering, mainly because I was busy, except for a few naughty nights in Manhattan -- which will be the topic of this report.

I had previously stayed in Manhattan nearly two decades ago for 3 years as a grad student, studying a meaningless field in economics which is useless to me now. I was very straight-laced back then, as well as poor, so mongering never entered my mind or budget. (I only began these 'extra-curricular' pursuits during my first trip to Amsterdam several years ago.)

And It was only a few years ago did I realize that I had actually been living smack in the center of the main naughty area of New York, just next to 8th Avenue near Times Square. This was just around the time when the area was in the middle of getting cleaned up by Mayor Giuliani. I don't think I saw any streetwalkers, but I cannot believe I never remembered all those sex shops and strip bars. Then again, perhaps, I was too caught up in my miserable life and my dissertation to notice all the possibilities around me during my daily walk back to my crummy apartment.

During my trip I decide to make up for lost opportunities within the short time available to me. I began by visiting the top 7 sex shops in Manhattan (according to one website). That was a big fat waste of time. Once you've seen one, then you've seen them all. There were a few specialty shops, mostly catered to curious ladies and the BDSM crowd. But for the most part they all look the same.

All I did was window shopping. I was tempted once to buy some lube but gave up because I was too shy to seek advice from the strange dudes behind the counter with their googly eyes.

I had heard about the electronic peep shows in these sex shops but was not at all tempted to try them. You enter the booths, close the door, insert money in the electric slot, and select porn from the screens, billed by the minute. Who uses these things? I much prefer using the internet -- whether it's free or not -- than to sit on those seats filled with dried up cum and within the view of discarded used condoms.

What surprised me was that these booths had a lot of customers loitering around, probably the poor guys who don't either have laptop with wifi access at home or the privacy to jerk off in peace. Every one of these guys eyed me with a nervous look on their faces as I passed them in the corridors. It was only later did I learn that these areas in the shops are also used to cruise for cheap male hustlers. The booths are there to complete the deed.

The third shop I entered at 8th avenue had a sign saying they offered live peep shows. I immediately recalled a memorable scene from the French film Amelie that showed Claude Perron doing a live show. I also remembered that beautiful scene in the Wim Wenders film Paris, Texas with Nastassja Kinski and Harry Dean Stanton (I wrote about that scene in a previous trip report in Den Haag from 2011 involving Veronika from Geleenstraat: viewtopic.php?f=14&t=18740).

Deciding to try the experience at least once in my life, I followed the directions to the second floor. A few curious South Asian customers followed me, maybe ennobled by my courage but too nervous the lead the way.

Three girls in shiny bikinis greeted us, leaning on the doors of their booths. The guys behind me disappeared. The ladies were all probably in their mid to late thirties, but all generally quite cute, though artificially enhanced with their thick-make up and plastic augmentations. I accepted the offer of the prettiest and slimmest one. She entered her telephone-kiosk-sized booth and I entered the one next to it.

There was a small slit-hole in the wall between us where I could slip in my money to her for any extra requests, like taking off extra clothing beyond the standard show (although I still don't know what standard means).

And there was also an electronic slot where I could insert my money to buy time with her, or rather time when the window was open. Once the payment was completed the window goes up slowly with a buzzing sound. She took off everything and licked her nipples for about 3 minutes, I think.

Once my time was up the window goes down, again with a buzzing electric sound. She asked if I wanted to continue. I said no.

She asked if I wanted to go to the next pair of booths where I could do some touchy feely. I said yes, just to know what the experience was like.

The process was pretty much the same only that the window had no separating glass this time so I could reach in with my hands. She let me squeeze her boobs and ass for 15 seconds but warned me not to touch her pussy or asshole and not to pinch her nipples.

It was a strange experience, seeing my desire so bureaucratically managed by this highly professional creature. It’s like a trip to the bank or the DMV. And the booth’s harsh fluorescent lighting, which did not complement her skin or facial features, reminded me of the harsh lighting in hospital surgery rooms.

Suffices to say that my cock was limp throughout, although back in my hotel I then spent nearly 3 hours on my laptop chatting and buying private shows from live webcam girls.

On the other hand, several weeks later, now I keep getting slightly turned on every time I remember my only live peep show experience. I wonder why.

(will continue soon)

Using my smartphone browser I was able to come up with a top 10 list of the best gentlemen's clubs in Manhattan. I eliminated the ones located downtown, mainly because they were too far, but also because I was not in the mood to compete with the rich Wall Street bankers for the attention of the hottest girls.

I also eliminated the high-class clubs that require the customers to wear formal. I did take a peek at their entrances from outside, just to know what they looked like. Some of them advertised those shows where you get to eat sushi from a naked girl’s body. I was intrigued, but felt too intimidated to enter, particularly after seeing those limos parked outside. Remember that this was January, the height of the polar vortex weather, and I was wearing several layers of clothing underneath my frayed and fat ‘Michelin man’ coat. Plus I had been shopping in Times Square and was carrying a lot of bags.

I ended just frequenting two clubs: Flashdancers and Private Eyes, both near the Times Square area.

Let me begin with Flashdancers on Broadway, which I visited once in the daytime and 2 times during the night shift after 8pm. The club is located just a few steps away from the subway at 7th Avenue so it’s very easy to find. If I am not mistaken, the prices are:
(i) $3 dollars to check in your coat, and another $3 if you have a bag as well
(ii) $20 for a lapdance, per song. From what I’ve read this is the standard price throughout Manhattan. But it’s still 35% cheaper than the Russian strip clubs at Walking Beach, Pattaya, but not as cheap as some legendary places in Atlanta, Georgia
(iii) $20 as well for a back massage -- not a scam, in my opinion, if you’re tired from walking all around Manhattan in the -13F weather
(iv) $700 for a 1 hour session in the private room -- no sex, the hostess reminds me, but you can also pay with credit card. I said no each time.

As you enter the club you see a circular bar with a few dancers and bartenders in the center. Next to it is a T-shaped platform with two stripper poles. There's also another smaller platform nearby. There are two cushioned areas for lapdances. There might have been other exclusive areas as well but I did not look for them.

The girls here are so gorgeous it’s unbelievable, especially the ones in the night shift. Most were cheerful Eurogirls with firm perky butts and long thin legs. There were a few Americans as well, although most of them were waitresses, not dancers, if I remember correctly. I also spotted a few Latinas, 3 black women as well, as well as 2 Asian chicks.

There was one Asian lady I could have sworn I’d seen somewhere in some Japanese porn, even though she claimed she was Mongolian. Her English was not so fluent but she had a sweet voice, which then made a cute shy inflection when she requested to give me another lapdance. Just thinking about Ms Mongolia now makes me so hard. She smelled nice too, like peaches.

I guess I was very tired from shopping, gloomy from the severe cold weather and depressed after the long holiday with my family. So my guard was quite down. That thing where the strippers sit on their knees on the platform and then alternately twitch their left and right ass cheeks made me absolutely mad with desire. I never had a thing for curvy girls but there was one Latina whose tight muscled butt reminded me so much of Coco Austin's that I was just able to muster the superhuman effort not to squeeze it during the heavenly lapdance she gave me.

I admit that I more or less accepted any lapdance offer that was given to me in Flashdancers. I cannot say that I regretted this though, even after seeing my wallet getting progressively thinner. The girls were just so lovely. The ratio of hot girls in this strip club is easily the best I have seen in my years of mongering, although I guess I was lucky as these places tend to have a rapid turnover.

My absolute favorite was one girl – I forgot her name – whose face and body reminded me so much of Agnieska. That alone was enough for me and I bathed in nostalgic thoughts about the De Wallen’s sweetest lady. She even had the cute ‘vampire’ fangs of the Polish goddess. This girl was extraordinarily talented at talking dirty and whispering the naughtiest of thoughts into my ear, purring like a cat from time to time. She grasped my left knee with her thighs and rubbed herself on the corduroy fabric of my pants for a good 5-10 minutes before I heard her cum.

Slightly drunk, I finally left when the place was about to close. Back in my hotel I checked my corduroy trousers and found the crotch area surface so frayed that there was no way I could wear it again. But I still keep the pants in my wardrobe as a souvenir for those three memorable visits to Flashdancers.

For the record, Ms Mongolia resembled Asuka Kirara. But it's unlikely to be her.

Years ago the windowless peeps in Times Square were a lot wilder. One place on 42nd in particular specialized in hand jobs. The girl would reach through the window and wank you off. First, however, she would put on a rubber glove and squirt a big glob of lube on it!

Mon Dieu, the nineties just before Giuliani went cleaning up the area. Excellent peep shows and value for money.

That makes me feel old ....


Gaston
(contemplating a day's out to Germany, but feeling out-of-shape - badly needig practice)

Rereading this thread from a year and a half ago, I realized I didn't say anything about the other strip club. The place was pretty easy to find when I was there because a dude wearing a sandwich sign with the words 'Private Eyes' helped point me to it on W. 45th Street, just off 8th Avenue.

I went there once during the day and another time for the night shift -- although I see no differences looks-wise in the two cohorts of girls. The interior, if I remember correctly, is divided into a bar area with one pole & then the larger dancing area.

The place fulfills the usual stereotype of sleaze you see in films like Means Streets or TV shows like the Sopranos -- only without the street toughs who were probably cuddling in their homes at the time, away from the cold polar vortex weather. Save for the doorman, who tried looking welcoming & cheerful in the freezing air outside, everyone inside Private Eyes screamed of desperation. The ladies are aggressive and would not leave me alone with their solicitations for lapdances, telling, in their thick Brooklyn accents, their obviously made-up tales of woe, including the classic 'I need money for tuition' and the 'I might get evicted from my apartment today' line.

Make sure you have exact dollar notes for the lapdance tips because they don't give change & will quickly walk away & ignore you if you ask for one.

The waitress who took my drink order the second time I was there had such a downcast expression that she must have been either extremely depressed or on some substance (or currently off it). When I tipped her she just stared at my note without changing her mellow zombie expression and then very lifelessly lumbered away.

Gentlemanschoicenyc.com

You're welcome.

Ah, Flashdancers... Still going strong after all these years. The memories.

Gentlemanschoicenyc.com is down only 6 months later? Is this the one where you got a bj at the door by way of introduction?

Hold onto your watches gentlemen - and watch out for pickup artists who might slip you a Mickey Finn. If I could afford a $30,000 watch I would probably be looking out for a higher-class hooker.

http://gothamist.com/2017/10/04/hotel_blackout_bandits.php