Punting memoirs

[Alan86]

Hey guys,

I'm back on this site for a little while. I have a couple things to do here. I don't have time anymore to check this site daily, but will try to answer as many threads as I can, and start some good ones hopefully.

Hello to all my friends here, I'll contact you all when I have the time. Glad to see admin has gotten rid of some of the trash, but sadly they may still keep coming back under different names.

inspired by a users comments, I have begun to write some punting memoirs, before I lose memory of them. It's a fantastic process, and it's great re-visiting those wonderful times. there's such great stuff that you had completely forgotten about till you do it. I wish I had done it from the get go, as I'd have more details.

My question is who here keeps a punting record or diary? How exactly have you written them up? (I know many do it through ARs). Can you give me some advice?

Thanks, Hope everyone is well,

Cheers,

Alan

[Babycat]

Welcome back Alan

[garfield]

Hey guys,

I'm back on this site for a little while. I have a couple things to do here. I don't have time anymore to check this site daily, but will try to answer as many threads as I can, and start some good ones hopefully.

Hello to all my friends here, I'll contact you all when I have the time. Glad to see admin has gotten rid of some of the trash, but sadly they may still keep coming back under different names.

inspired by a users comments, I have begun to write some punting memoirs, before I lose memory of them. It's a fantastic process, and it's great re-visiting those wonderful times. there's such great stuff that you had completely forgotten about till you do it. I wish I had done it from the get go, as I'd have more details.

My question is who here keeps a punting record or diary? How exactly have you written them up? (I know many do it through ARs). Can you give me some advice?

Thanks, Hope everyone is well,

Cheers,

Alan

Get a black book.

[wetwipes1]

My question is who here keeps a punting record or diary? How exactly have you written them up? Can you give me some advice?

The modern punter uses an excel spreadsheet.

[Punterman]

Hey guys,

I'm back on this site for a little while. I have a couple things to do here. I don't have time anymore to check this site daily, but will try to answer as many threads as I can, and start some good ones hopefully.

Hello to all my friends here, I'll contact you all when I have the time. Glad to see admin has gotten rid of some of the trash, but sadly they may still keep coming back under different names.

inspired by a users comments, I have begun to write some punting memoirs, before I lose memory of them. It's a fantastic process, and it's great re-visiting those wonderful times. there's such great stuff that you had completely forgotten about till you do it. I wish I had done it from the get go, as I'd have more details.

My question is who here keeps a punting record or diary? How exactly have you written them up? (I know many do it through ARs). Can you give me some advice?

Thanks, Hope everyone is well,

Cheers,

Alan

Excel spreadsheet. Date, cost, shop, girls name, comments ie big tits, bbbj, CIM, would I see her again etc

Fill in religiously after each punt.

[rojandro919]

Hi Alan. Love your contributions

[ML_Lover]

As per one of Punter's threads, I have over 100 a4 pages of secret ML diary reports. I figure they will comfort me in my old age, which sadly is not that far away.

I also have a spreadsheet recording ML's GFE, Body and Sex ratings which produce some interesting scatter graphs. I might anonymise it and post here one day when I get round to it.

Am building up to asking 2 of my regular ML's for photo's to add to my diary. So far 1 has sent me a few, always a nice surprise when one turns up... Certainly won't be posting them!

[ML_Lover]

Below is my first diary entry from my very first ML punt. It's a little clichéd, lots shorter than my more recent ones, and a lot less porno, but I think it captures my mixed feelings and confusion about the experience. It was a over a month before I went back, and sadly Anne had left. I feel very lucky to have had Anne as my first ML - a really sweet, kind girl who realised I had no idea and gave me a guiding hand...


Anne

A dim, anonymous back alley doorway that neither beckons nor repels, yet I hesitantly proceed inside, not driven by desire, but by curiosity and the obligation of my booking. I age inexorably older, seemingly faster each day, the hunger mounts to experience the new, the untried, and today, to cast aside inhibitions, for rapidly I run out of time to grow.

A small, polite but somehow furtive man confirms my booking and almost apologetically, perhaps subconsciously acknowledging the impurity of our transaction, takes my money. Meandering a confusion of corridors, he introduces me to ‘Anne’ and quietly makes an utterly unnoticed exit.

Standing gaping, sensory overload almost disabling me as her beauty and acceptance of what I have just paid for is imposed upon my mind, my arm precipitately imprisoned between her breasts, I am led by hand to the sanctuary of her room, a room of soft light and dancing shadows.

The shower is old but clean, perfumed shower gel offered and applied liberally, briefly giving the illusion of cleanliness.

The rugged massage table is clothed in disposable fabric, dominating the small room. Rational interaction almost beyond me, I dutifully lie face down for 30minutes, my muscles receiving her undivided attention, alternating pain and soothing, her breasts too occasionally to be chance brushing against me in a hint of what is to follow. Perhaps sensing my disquiet, she makes giggly pleasantries as she massages my back in an unexpectedly firm and proficient manner.

Part 2, as it colloquially known in these circles, begins as I hear her take off her clothes, my imagination running wild, my heart seemingly doing its best to explode, my face imprisoned facing floorwards through the hole in the massage table. Would it be crude to turn and take a peek? The moment passes and is lost.

Straddling my back, warm oil is applied to my body by way of her hands, breasts, stomach, as parts of me begin to appreciate her soothing touch, my pounding heart not relaxing, but subdued for now. I have no idea what is to happen next – how far does Anne go to please her customers?

Eventually I am told to roll over, gratefully fulfilling my hopes, my hand is placed upon her oiled breast - the tables are turned as I massage her to the accompaniment of soft moaning sounds. Despite my apparent abilities here, and her previous assurances of her love of the job, I am slightly displeased at her over-acting the part. Imagine my surprise then, when not only is my hand gently and unexpectedly placed between her parted legs, but to discover her dripping wet! Rules intervened, and my finger withdrawn from its warm hiding spot, but continuing to worry her clitoris to further female pleasure noises. By now, her hands unseen were causing me to lose focus as my cock received skilful manipulation, and my eyes filled with her perfect ass as she reverse straddles me. Sadly, such attention takes its toll as too soon I empty myself, presumably narrowly missing her face.

Another shower, where for the first time I am disappointed with events, as I am washed clean, but Anne does not join me under the water stream, merely giving, not receiving.

Old, yet even now I feel like a child in the shadow of her so young confidence, and the strange experiences of the last hour. Such a small amount of money for so great an intimacy, so affectionately performed. Yet for all her wetness, her affection was presumably just an illusion, a play she radiantly performs daily for people she has never met before.

So I leave the place my mind in turmoil, finding it hard to reconcile such tender intimacy with our material status as strangers. I am possessively glad of this now memory, this experience, and profoundly altered. Yet days later, I am unsure how or what to feel, unsure if the experience was something I enjoyed or could ever do again…


Prophetic Words from an obscure Scottish poet:

“It was Bible black in Lyon when I met the Magdalene. She was paralysed in a streetlight, she refused to give her name. A ring of violet bruises they were pinned upon her arm, 200 francs for sanctuary as she led me by the hand, to a room of dancing shadows, where all the heartache disappears, and in the glowing tongues of candles, I hear her whisper in my ear "'J'entend ton coeur", I can hear your heart, I can hear your heart, hear your heart.
FISH.

[deucebigalow]

Excel spreadsheet. Date, cost, shop, girls name, comments ie big tits, bbbj, CIM, would I see her again etc

Fill in religiously after each punt.

Might skip this one. Divorce lawyers wet dream I reckon.

[ML_Lover]

Yes indeed. I use VeraCrypt with a complex 20 character password. Have nightmares I've left it unlocked sometimes!

[Punterman]

Below is my first diary entry from my very first ML punt. It's a little clichéd, lots shorter than my more recent ones, and a lot less porno, but I think it captures my mixed feelings and confusion about the experience. It was a over a month before I went back, and sadly Anne had left. I feel very lucky to have had Anne as my first ML - a really sweet, kind girl who realised I had no idea and gave me a guiding hand...


Anne

A dim, anonymous back alley doorway that neither beckons nor repels, yet I hesitantly proceed inside, not driven by desire, but by curiosity and the obligation of my booking. I age inexorably older, seemingly faster each day, the hunger mounts to experience the new, the untried, and today, to cast aside inhibitions, for rapidly I run out of time to grow.

A small, polite but somehow furtive man confirms my booking and almost apologetically, perhaps subconsciously acknowledging the impurity of our transaction, takes my money. Meandering a confusion of corridors, he introduces me to ‘Anne’ and quietly makes an utterly unnoticed exit.

Standing gaping, sensory overload almost disabling me as her beauty and acceptance of what I have just paid for is imposed upon my mind, my arm precipitately imprisoned between her breasts, I am led by hand to the sanctuary of her room, a room of soft light and dancing shadows.

The shower is old but clean, perfumed shower gel offered and applied liberally, briefly giving the illusion of cleanliness.

The rugged massage table is clothed in disposable fabric, dominating the small room. Rational interaction almost beyond me, I dutifully lie face down for 30minutes, my muscles receiving her undivided attention, alternating pain and soothing, her breasts too occasionally to be chance brushing against me in a hint of what is to follow. Perhaps sensing my disquiet, she makes giggly pleasantries as she massages my back in an unexpectedly firm and proficient manner.

Part 2, as it colloquially known in these circles, begins as I hear her take off her clothes, my imagination running wild, my heart seemingly doing its best to explode, my face imprisoned facing floorwards through the hole in the massage table. Would it be crude to turn and take a peek? The moment passes and is lost.

Straddling my back, warm oil is applied to my body by way of her hands, breasts, stomach, as parts of me begin to appreciate her soothing touch, my pounding heart not relaxing, but subdued for now. I have no idea what is to happen next – how far does Anne go to please her customers?

Eventually I am told to roll over, gratefully fulfilling my hopes, my hand is placed upon her oiled breast - the tables are turned as I massage her to the accompaniment of soft moaning sounds. Despite my apparent abilities here, and her previous assurances of her love of the job, I am slightly displeased at her over-acting the part. Imagine my surprise then, when not only is my hand gently and unexpectedly placed between her parted legs, but to discover her dripping wet! Rules intervened, and my finger withdrawn from its warm hiding spot, but continuing to worry her clitoris to further female pleasure noises. By now, her hands unseen were causing me to lose focus as my cock received skilful manipulation, and my eyes filled with her perfect ass as she reverse straddles me. Sadly, such attention takes its toll as too soon I empty myself, presumably narrowly missing her face.

Another shower, where for the first time I am disappointed with events, as I am washed clean, but Anne does not join me under the water stream, merely giving, not receiving.

Old, yet even now I feel like a child in the shadow of her so young confidence, and the strange experiences of the last hour. Such a small amount of money for so great an intimacy, so affectionately performed. Yet for all her wetness, her affection was presumably just an illusion, a play she radiantly performs daily for people she has never met before.

So I leave the place my mind in turmoil, finding it hard to reconcile such tender intimacy with our material status as strangers. I am possessively glad of this now memory, this experience, and profoundly altered. Yet days later, I am unsure how or what to feel, unsure if the experience was something I enjoyed or could ever do again…


Prophetic Words from an obscure Scottish poet:

“It was Bible black in Lyon when I met the Magdalene. She was paralysed in a streetlight, she refused to give her name. A ring of violet bruises they were pinned upon her arm, 200 francs for sanctuary as she led me by the hand, to a room of dancing shadows, where all the heartache disappears, and in the glowing tongues of candles, I hear her whisper in my ear "'J'entend ton coeur", I can hear your heart, I can hear your heart, hear your heart.
FISH.

Great story ML Lover. My first ever punt was in Kingsford Sydney about 15 years ago. FS shop but I think I only paid for massage. My heart was racing as a nice Asian lady snuggled up to me on a bed, not massage table. I really can't remember much about it apart from shooting my load at the end but it started me off on a very long road. Your story is very atmospheric, like a detective novel.

[GuitarJost]

Below is my first diary entry from my very first ML punt. It's a little clichéd, lots shorter than my more recent ones, and a lot less porno, but I think it captures my mixed feelings and confusion about the experience. It was a over a month before I went back, and sadly Anne had left. I feel very lucky to have had Anne as my first ML - a really sweet, kind girl who realised I had no idea and gave me a guiding hand...


Anne

A dim, anonymous back alley doorway that neither beckons nor repels, yet I hesitantly proceed inside, not driven by desire, but by curiosity and the obligation of my booking. I age inexorably older, seemingly faster each day, the hunger mounts to experience the new, the untried, and today, to cast aside inhibitions, for rapidly I run out of time to grow.

A small, polite but somehow furtive man confirms my booking and almost apologetically, perhaps subconsciously acknowledging the impurity of our transaction, takes my money. Meandering a confusion of corridors, he introduces me to ‘Anne’ and quietly makes an utterly unnoticed exit.

Standing gaping, sensory overload almost disabling me as her beauty and acceptance of what I have just paid for is imposed upon my mind, my arm precipitately imprisoned between her breasts, I am led by hand to the sanctuary of her room, a room of soft light and dancing shadows.

The shower is old but clean, perfumed shower gel offered and applied liberally, briefly giving the illusion of cleanliness.

The rugged massage table is clothed in disposable fabric, dominating the small room. Rational interaction almost beyond me, I dutifully lie face down for 30minutes, my muscles receiving her undivided attention, alternating pain and soothing, her breasts too occasionally to be chance brushing against me in a hint of what is to follow. Perhaps sensing my disquiet, she makes giggly pleasantries as she massages my back in an unexpectedly firm and proficient manner.

Part 2, as it colloquially known in these circles, begins as I hear her take off her clothes, my imagination running wild, my heart seemingly doing its best to explode, my face imprisoned facing floorwards through the hole in the massage table. Would it be crude to turn and take a peek? The moment passes and is lost.

Straddling my back, warm oil is applied to my body by way of her hands, breasts, stomach, as parts of me begin to appreciate her soothing touch, my pounding heart not relaxing, but subdued for now. I have no idea what is to happen next – how far does Anne go to please her customers?

Eventually I am told to roll over, gratefully fulfilling my hopes, my hand is placed upon her oiled breast - the tables are turned as I massage her to the accompaniment of soft moaning sounds. Despite my apparent abilities here, and her previous assurances of her love of the job, I am slightly displeased at her over-acting the part. Imagine my surprise then, when not only is my hand gently and unexpectedly placed between her parted legs, but to discover her dripping wet! Rules intervened, and my finger withdrawn from its warm hiding spot, but continuing to worry her clitoris to further female pleasure noises. By now, her hands unseen were causing me to lose focus as my cock received skilful manipulation, and my eyes filled with her perfect ass as she reverse straddles me. Sadly, such attention takes its toll as too soon I empty myself, presumably narrowly missing her face.

Another shower, where for the first time I am disappointed with events, as I am washed clean, but Anne does not join me under the water stream, merely giving, not receiving.

Old, yet even now I feel like a child in the shadow of her so young confidence, and the strange experiences of the last hour. Such a small amount of money for so great an intimacy, so affectionately performed. Yet for all her wetness, her affection was presumably just an illusion, a play she radiantly performs daily for people she has never met before.

So I leave the place my mind in turmoil, finding it hard to reconcile such tender intimacy with our material status as strangers. I am possessively glad of this now memory, this experience, and profoundly altered. Yet days later, I am unsure how or what to feel, unsure if the experience was something I enjoyed or could ever do again…


Prophetic Words from an obscure Scottish poet:

“It was Bible black in Lyon when I met the Magdalene. She was paralysed in a streetlight, she refused to give her name. A ring of violet bruises they were pinned upon her arm, 200 francs for sanctuary as she led me by the hand, to a room of dancing shadows, where all the heartache disappears, and in the glowing tongues of candles, I hear her whisper in my ear "'J'entend ton coeur", I can hear your heart, I can hear your heart, hear your heart.
FISH.

Thanks for sharing with us!

[TallyHo]

Might skip this one. Divorce lawyers wet dream I reckon.

Hahahahaha.

[panthera]

IF you password-protect the excel spreadsheet is this enough? or better to store it securely on a separate email account or something?

[harrycd]

Panthera it's so easy to crack an excel spreadsheet password you can actually rename it from .xlsx to .xml and edit it with notepad++ to remove the password field

You would be better off with encryption

[panthera]

ahh man thanks for the advice. Might save my life one day.

[Alan86]

Thanks a lot guys. Some great advice here. It seems like some are data based and some write a full scale novel! (Thanks ML lover). I have very basic # Ml, name, shop as records but I think I'll expand on this. Anyone have more ideas please let us know

[otokosg]

i have kept a diary (written in an Asian language) only for one favorite ml, i just write it in a plain text file but archive it in an encrypted rar file.

i also copy paste all chat messages with her in the diary, which is in the same asian language.

things haven't been going on well lately though, so i might stop this soon.

[Alan86]

i have kept a diary (written in an Asian language) only for one favorite ml, i just write it in a plain text file but archive it in an encrypted rar file.

i also copy paste all chat messages with her in the diary, which is in the same asian language.

things haven't been going on well lately though, so i might stop this soon.

Wow, seems like you've really fallen for this girl!

Tell us more if you don't mind?

[Pussyhands]

Aw fk u guys are professionals.

My diary is just my reviews :D

[otokosg]

Wow, seems like you've really fallen for this girl!
Tell us more if you don't mind?

got told she has a bf now, and therefore couldn't go out for a drink with me as often as before. funny thing is, she didn't say we should stop seeing each other outside. anyway, i got the drift, and have finished the last entry and put it aside.
i had already suspected as much and thought i would get hurt badly when she finally break the bad news, but hey, i didn't feel anything bad at all, just a sigh of relief.

[Alan86]

got told she has a bf now, and therefore couldn't go out for a drink with me as often as before. funny thing is, she didn't say we should stop seeing each other outside. anyway, i got the drift, and have finished the last entry and put it aside.
i had already suspected as much and thought i would get hurt badly when she finally break the bad news, but hey, i didn't feel anything bad at all, just a sigh of relief.

Yeah, sometimes it can be a relief that it's all over and you can move on.

I'd actually suggest coming clean to her about your true feelings for her so she knows. Maybe that might even change the situation!

Best of luck. If it is over, then just keep the diary in a safe place as a beautiful episode of your life!

[Napkin]

Would be a mixture of horror ,ecstasy , and sheer boredom and some mindless
things i have done but will always regret but cannot never change.

[Lenka_X5]

Memoirs = Push yourself beyond limits. I want that face = 10, body = 10, service = 10

Like this girls selfie below who had perfect scores above.

44479

[woods23]

Memoirs = Push yourself beyond limits. I want that face = 10, body = 10, service = 10

Like this girls selfie below who had perfect scores above.

44479

Good pick big gun ...she was very popular back then :)

[Lenka_X5]

Good pick big gun ...she was very popular back then :)

One of the best ever in my humble opinion.

[otokosg]

Yeah, sometimes it can be a relief that it's all over and you can move on.

I'd actually suggest coming clean to her about your true feelings for her so she knows. Maybe that might even change the situation!

Best of luck. If it is over, then just keep the diary in a safe place as a beautiful episode of your life!

it's over. and thanks for the suggestion to archive all diary entries for safe keeping, i have just done that. My guess is I wont go back to it in the next 6 ~ 9 months, but may refer to it again in the future.

it's amazing how one's feeling can change so radically in such a short period of time: from being crazy about a girl to being completely indifferent. i guess that being a punter helps a lot, as it's means more freedom to go on a quest for the next regular😉

[PBoy]

One of the best ever in my humble opinion.

Who was she and from which shop bro Lenka?

[Alan86]

As a note guys, I'm about midway through writing my punting memoirs, and I can't tell you how great it's been! I just wish I had done it from the get go as I'd have more details rather than do it from memory.

Revisiting so many beautiful memories! What wonderful girls I've been lucky enough to experience!

I encourage everyone to do this! Even if you start writing a punting journal just from now.

And then when it's compiled, I'll have it there for me to read when I wish, and won't have to rely on my memory!