I’ve been to a brothel twice in my life. The first time was my very first paysex experience, and it was more-or-less accidental: I’d actually planned to have a date with an escort that day, but had to cancel it the day before (and pay a cancellation fee, of course!) due to an impending family emergency. When the day came, however, the emergency unexpectedly fixed itself, so I suddenly had a gap in my schedule, plus a mountain of anticipation that had been building up from two weeks of looking forward to my first escort date. I decided on a last-minute substitute: I found a brothel that looked appealing on the internet, went there, overcame my terror of the situation, and rang the buzzer.

Long story short, that experience was a pleasant surprise to me... pleasant enough that a few months later, I decided to go back and try it a second time. I am now going to tell you the story of how that second time became my last.

I sometimes suspect that I enjoy the anticipation of sex even more than I enjoy sex itself, and when going to a brothel, I do find something thrilling about the moment at the beginning – full of possibilities – when the available ladies come to introduce themselves to the prospective client, one by one. When I entered on that second occasion, the Hausdame gave me the discouraging news that only two ladies were available... but then – pleasant surprise! – three actually came to introduce themselves. I chose #3, and the Hausdame then told me that #3 was only available for 20 minutes, and asked if that was alright. I thought to myself, with deep skepticism: "Can I have any kind of rewarding sexual experience in 20 minutes? No... maybe some people can, but I definitely can’t do that."  So I changed my choice to #2, a skinny 20-something woman whom I will refer to henceforth as A.

The 20 minutes issue had been the first bad omen. Things only went further downhill from there.

A led me to a room and asked, "Na, was machen wir schönes?"

I must confess: I’ve never had an easy time with that question. My KM profile says, "I love the experience of meeting someone new and exploring what turns us both on". It does not say anything like the kind of answer I suspect A was expecting, e.g. "When we meet, I want you to give me a blow job for 10 minutes, followed by 15 minutes of intercourse in missionary, riding and doggy-style positions, concluding with me coming on your breasts." That isn’t how sex works for me. I figured that before trying to answer her question, I should ask about her prices, and decide on the length of time. She immediately told me the prices for various extras: anal, cum-on-face... a bunch of things I didn’t want. I told her I didn’t want any extras, but I was just wondering about the normal price for, say, 40 minutes – I felt pretty sure that I could have a rewarding sexual experience in 40 minutes. She instead quoted me an absurdly cheap price for 20 minutes, and also mentioned 30 minutes, but not 40. I asked again about a price for 40 minutes, and when the answer came, I was in disbelief:

"If it’s without extras, I don’t want to do 40 minutes, because that would be too boring for me... I mean, I’m not giving you a 40-minute blowjob, or just fucking for that long. Without extras, we can do a quickie, you can ram me for 20 minutes, in and out."

I had the sneaking suspicion that A was deliberately making sex with her sound as unappealing as possible.

I thought maybe a compromise would still be achievable, so I asked again about the price for 30 minutes, because it had gone by too fast when she’d said it before. This question caused her to make a decision:

"Don’t take this the wrong way, but my suggestion in this case would be that I send in another lady for you."

I got the message, and I had already seen the rest of the available options, so I decided it was time to give up and go home. In truth, never in my life have I felt so relieved about the realization that somebody did not want to fuck me.

Fin