The Speechwriter
28-10-2017, 06:03 PM
1. Ease of booking, arrival and welcome = 5
Called the Taylor’s number and spoke to a man who didn’t seem the least bit interested in what I wanted to know. Simple stuff. How many girls on today if I come in about 1pm? Will there be full service on offer? Does that mean DFK and DATY?
“Yeah, yeah, 7 Asian girls. Come and see.”
Warning bells are tingling.
Onto the train at Bankstown and 16 minutes later I’m off at Lidcombe. I was surprised to see how close the shop was to the railway station. You’re off the platform and almost at the door of 58 Railway Parade.
The reception area struck me as pretty standard. Let’s call it a downmarket version of 5 Star. Except for one thing, and I reckon this is where Taylor’s excels. The private meeting areas – separated by curtains – are huge. Plenty of room to stand or sit, relax, and meet the girls. Nice. I like to stand so the girls can see my full 184cm.
And so, in they come. One by one, all smiles and winks. I’m not great at line-ups, but I’m learning.
After I’ve met 4 girls, I’m thinking that I’d happily hammer 2 of them. Then in walks number 5, Amanda. Note to James: remember the failsafe formula – attitude, body, face. In that order.
Two more girls after Amanda – one of whom caught my eye – and the couldn’t-be-fucked boss man comes back in. I was happy to match his abruptness.
“Amanda.”
2. The first 60 seconds (first impressions of the girl when she walks in or opens the door) = 8
A bit hot. Ginza standard. Early 30s, she’s in pink lingerie and platforms that really show what she’s got. Not beautiful, but sexy. Cheeky grin, a wink, and the move that won her my nod – she licked her lips while making quite a show of checking me up and down. Yes, I said to myself. I’m going to fuck you.
3. Body (according to personal taste re bust, arse, legs, hourglass, skinny, etc) = 8
Medium height. Huge tits on a tight hourglass chassis and long, toned legs. Long black hair. Totally my type. I watch her arse as she’s walking out and its nice and round.
4. Face (beauty is in the eye of the beholder) = 6.5
Some brothers wouldn't give her a second look. Standard.
5. Attitude (she's gotta be into why she’s there) = 2
Waste of my time. She was prepared to let me fuck her, sort of, so I’ve got to score something, don’t I?
6. Chemistry (it takes two to tango) = 0
Zero. Nada. Nicht. Rien. Or in Amanda’s case, Méiyou.
7. Overall service (is the customer king?) = 2
Amanda put herself in the room. She undressed. She gave me a blow job (covered only). She laid down on the bed. She spread her legs. She closed her eyes. She let me fuck her. She moaned ridiculous moans. She went through the motions.
And she was constantly at her box of tissues. There was a tissue for this, a tissue for that, a tissue for using a tissue.
8. Blow job (BBBJ, DT, CBJ, whatever) = 3
If a girl lets me put my cock in her mouth, she gets 3. What happens after that is up to her. For this session, Amanda gets a 3. Enough said?
Maybe not, so I’ll explain. No eye contact, no variation, no force, no suction, no energy. The only part she put any effort into was the ridiculous porn star moaning.
9. Kissing and DATY = 0
Zero. Nada. Nicht. Rien. Méiyǒu.
Amanda spent most of the 20 minutes showing or telling me what she WOULDN’T do. She constantly turned her head away when I tried to kiss her on the lips. She didn’t even want me kissing her anywhere on the face or her neck.
The Kodak moment was when I started to run my tongue over her body and she quickly moved her hand down to her cunt to cover herself. Like a chastity belt.
“No kissing.”
10. Fucking (positions, intensity, etc) = 3
Hopeless. Again, if a girl lets me stick my dick in her, she gets a 3. What happens after that is up to her. For this session, Amanda gets a 3. Enough said?
Alright, for those who want details – she was slightly more active than a starfish. She clearly did not want to be there. I’ve given up any hope of salvaging the session by this time, but I’m hard and I start to think…am I going to blow into this starfish, or should I save it for a potential conquest in the city tonight at my conference dinner?
Then, just when I was thinking about pulling out, Amanda makes a move. Then another. I can feel the cum stirring in my balls, so I get lazy and pump her vigorously for about 90 seconds – her ridiculous moaning gathers pace and volume – and I release a decent load into the dom.
11. Energy (keeping the engines running for a full hour aint easy, even when idling) = 2
She simply wasn’t interested. However, she let me fuck her, sort of, so I’ve got to score something.
12. Price (is it value for what you pay?) = 2
$150 for an hour of "full service". The full “service” wasn’t delivered. Lousy value.
13. Ambience (the shop, the room, the shower area, etc) = 3
The room Amanda led me to was a tip. It smelt like a combination of cigarette smoke, cheap perfume, and old cum. No sheets on the bed. The bare mattress was mottled and stained, Lord knows what with. Sparsely decorated, dark and horrible. It reminded me of 5 Marrickville.
The shower room is a little way down the corridor. It’s also a tip. The shower head is busted, and it squirts water everywhere.
14. x-factor (any special things that deserve their own mention) = 0
Zero. Nada. Nicht. Rien. Méiyou.
15. Exit (the goodbye from both the girl and the shop) = 2
When Amanda finally realised she had one very unhappy client on he hands, she started to shit herself. She was saying the word “sorry” incessantly.
“Sorry no kiss. Sorry no kiss.”
I told her to stop. I told her not to be sorry. I told her to forget it.
“You don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be here. We’re on the same page. Don’t be sorry.”
She didn’t really care.
The clock said 22 minutes.
I start to dress myself and she’s asking me to wait. Fuck that. Down the stairs to a vacant reception. I reckon the boss will reappear soon because Amanda – half-dressed – is making enough commotion to rouse him from whatever slumber he’s fallen into.
He comes out, and I tell him that I’ve wasted my time with Amanda because her attitude is rubbish. I then give him a Reader’s Digest version of most of the above.
Then the old Papasan line: “Never get a complaint about this girl before.”
They must be easily pleased out Lidcombe way.
The boss and Amanda start talking to each other in Mandarin. She’s furiously shaking her head “no”, denying to her boss what a lousy time she’s just shown me.
Their conversation in Mandarin is getting more energetic.
I put up my hand and say to him in Italian: “Please stop. How does it feel when someone is talking about you in a language you don’t understand?”
Conclusion
Out of a possible score of 150, I'm giving Amanda at Taylor’s Lidcombe the grand total of 46.5
My approach to this punting business is simple.
I pay money.
For the shop to meet its end of the social contract, they’ve got to put in the room with me a girl who wants to be there, and who knows what she’s doing.
If a girl thinks she can fool her way through a session with a man who wants to be there and who knows what he’s doing, then she’s in the wrong business.
Of course, your experience may not be my experience, but my job here is to write an AR about my experience with this girl. And mine was shit.
Won’t be back. And not because Amanda was a dud. I won’t be back because the boss didn’t give a shit.
Called the Taylor’s number and spoke to a man who didn’t seem the least bit interested in what I wanted to know. Simple stuff. How many girls on today if I come in about 1pm? Will there be full service on offer? Does that mean DFK and DATY?
“Yeah, yeah, 7 Asian girls. Come and see.”
Warning bells are tingling.
Onto the train at Bankstown and 16 minutes later I’m off at Lidcombe. I was surprised to see how close the shop was to the railway station. You’re off the platform and almost at the door of 58 Railway Parade.
The reception area struck me as pretty standard. Let’s call it a downmarket version of 5 Star. Except for one thing, and I reckon this is where Taylor’s excels. The private meeting areas – separated by curtains – are huge. Plenty of room to stand or sit, relax, and meet the girls. Nice. I like to stand so the girls can see my full 184cm.
And so, in they come. One by one, all smiles and winks. I’m not great at line-ups, but I’m learning.
After I’ve met 4 girls, I’m thinking that I’d happily hammer 2 of them. Then in walks number 5, Amanda. Note to James: remember the failsafe formula – attitude, body, face. In that order.
Two more girls after Amanda – one of whom caught my eye – and the couldn’t-be-fucked boss man comes back in. I was happy to match his abruptness.
“Amanda.”
2. The first 60 seconds (first impressions of the girl when she walks in or opens the door) = 8
A bit hot. Ginza standard. Early 30s, she’s in pink lingerie and platforms that really show what she’s got. Not beautiful, but sexy. Cheeky grin, a wink, and the move that won her my nod – she licked her lips while making quite a show of checking me up and down. Yes, I said to myself. I’m going to fuck you.
3. Body (according to personal taste re bust, arse, legs, hourglass, skinny, etc) = 8
Medium height. Huge tits on a tight hourglass chassis and long, toned legs. Long black hair. Totally my type. I watch her arse as she’s walking out and its nice and round.
4. Face (beauty is in the eye of the beholder) = 6.5
Some brothers wouldn't give her a second look. Standard.
5. Attitude (she's gotta be into why she’s there) = 2
Waste of my time. She was prepared to let me fuck her, sort of, so I’ve got to score something, don’t I?
6. Chemistry (it takes two to tango) = 0
Zero. Nada. Nicht. Rien. Or in Amanda’s case, Méiyou.
7. Overall service (is the customer king?) = 2
Amanda put herself in the room. She undressed. She gave me a blow job (covered only). She laid down on the bed. She spread her legs. She closed her eyes. She let me fuck her. She moaned ridiculous moans. She went through the motions.
And she was constantly at her box of tissues. There was a tissue for this, a tissue for that, a tissue for using a tissue.
8. Blow job (BBBJ, DT, CBJ, whatever) = 3
If a girl lets me put my cock in her mouth, she gets 3. What happens after that is up to her. For this session, Amanda gets a 3. Enough said?
Maybe not, so I’ll explain. No eye contact, no variation, no force, no suction, no energy. The only part she put any effort into was the ridiculous porn star moaning.
9. Kissing and DATY = 0
Zero. Nada. Nicht. Rien. Méiyǒu.
Amanda spent most of the 20 minutes showing or telling me what she WOULDN’T do. She constantly turned her head away when I tried to kiss her on the lips. She didn’t even want me kissing her anywhere on the face or her neck.
The Kodak moment was when I started to run my tongue over her body and she quickly moved her hand down to her cunt to cover herself. Like a chastity belt.
“No kissing.”
10. Fucking (positions, intensity, etc) = 3
Hopeless. Again, if a girl lets me stick my dick in her, she gets a 3. What happens after that is up to her. For this session, Amanda gets a 3. Enough said?
Alright, for those who want details – she was slightly more active than a starfish. She clearly did not want to be there. I’ve given up any hope of salvaging the session by this time, but I’m hard and I start to think…am I going to blow into this starfish, or should I save it for a potential conquest in the city tonight at my conference dinner?
Then, just when I was thinking about pulling out, Amanda makes a move. Then another. I can feel the cum stirring in my balls, so I get lazy and pump her vigorously for about 90 seconds – her ridiculous moaning gathers pace and volume – and I release a decent load into the dom.
11. Energy (keeping the engines running for a full hour aint easy, even when idling) = 2
She simply wasn’t interested. However, she let me fuck her, sort of, so I’ve got to score something.
12. Price (is it value for what you pay?) = 2
$150 for an hour of "full service". The full “service” wasn’t delivered. Lousy value.
13. Ambience (the shop, the room, the shower area, etc) = 3
The room Amanda led me to was a tip. It smelt like a combination of cigarette smoke, cheap perfume, and old cum. No sheets on the bed. The bare mattress was mottled and stained, Lord knows what with. Sparsely decorated, dark and horrible. It reminded me of 5 Marrickville.
The shower room is a little way down the corridor. It’s also a tip. The shower head is busted, and it squirts water everywhere.
14. x-factor (any special things that deserve their own mention) = 0
Zero. Nada. Nicht. Rien. Méiyou.
15. Exit (the goodbye from both the girl and the shop) = 2
When Amanda finally realised she had one very unhappy client on he hands, she started to shit herself. She was saying the word “sorry” incessantly.
“Sorry no kiss. Sorry no kiss.”
I told her to stop. I told her not to be sorry. I told her to forget it.
“You don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be here. We’re on the same page. Don’t be sorry.”
She didn’t really care.
The clock said 22 minutes.
I start to dress myself and she’s asking me to wait. Fuck that. Down the stairs to a vacant reception. I reckon the boss will reappear soon because Amanda – half-dressed – is making enough commotion to rouse him from whatever slumber he’s fallen into.
He comes out, and I tell him that I’ve wasted my time with Amanda because her attitude is rubbish. I then give him a Reader’s Digest version of most of the above.
Then the old Papasan line: “Never get a complaint about this girl before.”
They must be easily pleased out Lidcombe way.
The boss and Amanda start talking to each other in Mandarin. She’s furiously shaking her head “no”, denying to her boss what a lousy time she’s just shown me.
Their conversation in Mandarin is getting more energetic.
I put up my hand and say to him in Italian: “Please stop. How does it feel when someone is talking about you in a language you don’t understand?”
Conclusion
Out of a possible score of 150, I'm giving Amanda at Taylor’s Lidcombe the grand total of 46.5
My approach to this punting business is simple.
I pay money.
For the shop to meet its end of the social contract, they’ve got to put in the room with me a girl who wants to be there, and who knows what she’s doing.
If a girl thinks she can fool her way through a session with a man who wants to be there and who knows what he’s doing, then she’s in the wrong business.
Of course, your experience may not be my experience, but my job here is to write an AR about my experience with this girl. And mine was shit.
Won’t be back. And not because Amanda was a dud. I won’t be back because the boss didn’t give a shit.