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It was weird.

But the best experiences always are.

We put our clothes on and left the motel.

I walked down the street thinking about how awesome a fuck that was.

I went to a bar and drank some Tecate.

I sat there staring.

Ordered some food.

Ate it.

A man came over with a guitar and asked if I would like a song played.

I handed him some money and said play something miserable.

He did.

THE ASIAN SPA

I decided to go to the Asian Spa.

There are Asian Spas all over the Youngstown area.

I drove there nervous as hell.

I think I had the music turned down I was so nervous.

I parked in the back and went through the front door.

Then came to another door that you have to buzz.

An older woman came to the door.

She asked me how old I was and I told her twenty-one.

She asked to see my ID.

I showed it to her.

She let me in and led me into a small room with red lights, a twin bed, and a wall made of mirrors.

She told me to take off my clothes.

I did.

I was nervous.

What weirdness was going to come?

I sat naked on the bed.

A young Asian girl came in.

She was beautiful.

She had nice skin and a happy smile.

I was very glad to see her.

She had on a skimpy pink dress.

She came over to me and ran her hands down my sides.

She gestured for me to follow her because she did not speak English.

She led me into a shower room.

There was a massage table, a large bucket full of water, and a hose.

She gestured for me to lie down on the massage table.

I lay down completely naked.

My nakedness was right there in front of a hot girl.

I liked it very much.

She dumped buckets of warm water on me.

Which felt very good.

Then she got a sponge and covered it in soap.

Then she washed me thoroughly.

My armpits, stomach, feet, cock and asshole.

She cleaned me up real well.

I smiled the whole time.

She kept asking me if I felt nervous.

Prostitutes always say that to me.

After she was done washing me, she poured more hot water on me to get the soap off.

Then she had me stand up.

She dried me off slowly.

I loved it.

Oh, it was nice.

Some assholes would say that I enjoyed it because she was the slave I bought. But I never told her to do anything or forced any kind of behavior on her.

The female at the Asian Spa was paid to treat me with consideration just for an hour.

I considerately gave her money.

She considerately treated me with respect.

Maybe if everyone was as nice as the Asian Spa females the world wouldn’t be such a shitty place.

She led me to a sauna and asked if I would like anything to drink.

I said yes and asked what she had.

She said, “Cola and diet cola.”

I said I would take a regular cola.

She got one and left me alone for three minutes.

Didn’t know what was going to happen.

Had been told that girls at the Asian Spa have sex with you, but I found it hard to believe anyone during the Information Age.

I fluffed my dick trying to get hard.

Just in case there was sex at the Asian Spa.

She came back and got me, then led me to the same bedroom where my clothes were.

She laid me down on the bed, on my stomach.

She got on my back with her clothes on and started giving me a massage.

It was the best massage of my life.

Started to feel really relaxed.

Really at home.

She made me feel like a person, like all my suffering, all the hell, was worth it.

All the intolerable years of my existence were for something.

That it would be all right.

She flipped me over and massaged the front of my body.

It was so nice.

Almost life-affirming.

She finished the massage and lay down next to me.

I looked at her.

She was so pretty.

She asked what I would like; she gave the prices for a blowjob and a fuck.

I said I would like a fuck.

It was two-hundred fifty dollars.

The price was unimportant; I don’t see the difference in the irrationality of spending five hundred on a couch, twenty-five thousand on an SUV, or two-hundred fifty dollars for an hour of pretend love.

She stood up and took her clothes off.

Revealing her soft Asian body.

She lay on the bed.

I crawled on top of her.

We rubbed our nakedness all over each other.

I touched her skin with my hand.

It was so soft and nice.

I kissed her tummy.

Butt.

Legs.

Feet.

Back.

Thighs.

Oh, I kissed and kissed.

There is nothing better than touching and kissing a soft body with nice skin.

She played well with me.

She knew I was sad and alone.

She was probably suffering more because she was thousands of miles away from home.

After ten minutes of kissing and running my hands softly over her body, we had sex.

It was missionary for a while.

And then doggy style for a while.

Then I ate her pussy for a long time.

And then I ate her asshole for a long time.

She had (or maybe faked) an orgasm.

She was probably told to fake at least one orgasm during intercourse because American men enjoy playing that they MAKE or CONSTRUCT the female orgasm. Which is hysterical.

Whether she had a real one or not, it doesn’t matter.

I eventually ejaculated.

I came on her ass.

It was so pretty.

My cum lying there on her two little round butt cheeks.

I lay down next to her, smiling.

She placed her small arm over my chest for a few minutes.

She whispered nice sentences to me in the best English she could.

The hour was up and we both put our clothes back on.

I felt miserable that it was over.

She led me to the door.

Before I left though, she gave me a hug.

A gentle hug.

The way hugs should be.

Then she let go, and I left.

I got in my car and was happy.

I felt kind of mad that I had spent two-hundred fifty dollars for one hour of life and didn’t get any objects for it.

But in America, you have to spend money to smile.

CRACK WHORE AND CHICKEN STRIPS

I was sitting at Denny’s one afternoon.

It was winter and the sun was going down.

So I guess it was around five in the evening.

I was sitting at the counter.

I was reading About Behaviorism by Skinner.

Down a couple of seats was this strange woman.

She kept smiling all weird.

And making little disturbances that kept causing me to put my head up.

She was eating chicken tenders and drinking a soda.

She seemed like she was on crack.

Which is common at the Youngstown Denny’s.

People of all colors, genders, and ages on crack.

So it was Denny’s as usual.

While I was reading I heard in a whisper, “Hey you, come over here.”

It was the crazy lady; she wanted me to sit next to her.

I didn’t see why not.

She said in a whisper, “Somebody was supposed to pick me up. I don’t know where they are. I’m missing a party. I was supposed to dance for these guys. And they were gonna pay me one-hundred fifty dollars. No one has come to pick me up. My dude dropped me off. Yeah, a hundred and fifty dollars, can you fucking believe? I should be at that party. If you pay for my food, I’ll give you a blow job.”