Introduction
Those readers who have been following my anecdotes will remember that at the end of "Toys for the Teacher" I expected it to be my last fact-based story. However, then I remembered this particular episode. I had almost forgotten it after a comparatively peaceful life over the past 30 years. Call it a senior moment as I approach my 69th birthday! (No pun intended). There is some sex involved, but most is a memory of an unusual happening that most of us don't have (or want to - though it was exciting at the time)
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I was in my fifth year of a miserable marriage. My sex life with Leanne was virtually non-existent, but I had my doubts about hers! Our two children were now at primary school, and I had given up on my own career out of sheer frustration, and I had gone back to my life on the road as a trucker. Leanne didn't seem to mind me and the kids being out of her hair, for some reason!
It was the mid-year school holidays, and the children spent most of it at their grandmother's house. She hated me, but loved the kids, fortunately. I passed up a few delivery runs and took the overnight ferry to the continent (Europe) on a package trip. This started of in Brussels, and took in Austria and some of France. I really needed to get some space, had a fair wedge of cash and was ready for anything.
Normally I couldn't afford to stay at a top hotel in the heart of the Euro parliament city, but this was part of the package. After luxuriating in my room, which was fitted expensively enough for any politician, I decided to go for a walk. With a new found "travel buddy" (put that in for my USA readers!), who had approached me in the lounge and began chatting in a friendly manner I walked round the corner and down a main street for perhaps three blocks. The bright lights and fancy shops gave way to a row of smallish terraced houses. We walked along this street without fear of possible consequences.
The first few houses were quite normal in appearance. Then we came upon a small shop with a large window. This window was brightly lit with neon strip lights round the whole of the window frame. We looked in and at first thought we saw a display mannequin sitting there - until she moved to swing one leg over the other in a provocative way! This lady was dressed in a long white fur coat - but obviously had very little underneath, as her movement displayed.
Looking up and down the street allowed us to see that a surprising number of similar windows lit up the street. Amber, blue, green, but all with at least one red strip light. We wandered the length of the street gazing intently on the wares on display inside. You name it, these windows had as wide a variety of ladies of all shapes, sizes, ages and ethnic origins, though most were under 30 years of age at a guess. And in varying stages of interesting dress!
Yes, unintentionally, we had found one of Brussels' redlight streets! And convenient for bored Euro politicos to relax in! My friend and I decided to sample the goods on offer. Or rather, I did. My friend, we'll call him Jack, was far more innocent than I, although I had never frequented such an establishment myself either. I chose a window about halfway along with a well developed black girl inside.
The lighting inside was far dimmer than the window, but took light from the neon light straining through the lightweight curtain. A small, half round counter was tucked neatly into one corner, and behind this was a much older woman. About 50 years old, with features heavily coated in make-up, she addressed me.
"Bonjour, messieurs, vous aimez mes dames?"
"Oh, oui," I replied.
She realised immediately from my accent I could only be British, so spoke in heavily accented English.
"You like to see my ladies?"
"I have seen the one I want," I replied, "the lady in the window."
"I see if she comes," the woman answered, and putting her head round the curtain, spoke rapidly to the girl in the window. It seemed there was some difficulty, as their voices became as heated as only foreigners can, but in a minute or two, the curtain opened and the girl came through.
"It is the time for her to sit, but she comes for you," the madam told me.
Putting a professional smile on her face, the girl sidled up close to me. Her perfume was too strong for my liking, but what the hell, I wasn't taking her home to meet mam! I admit, the closeness of this girl, and anticipation had my dick twitching. Jack was hanging back a bit, but before he could up and run for it, two more girls entered the room through a door at the back of the room, and stood there, waiting.
"Now, your friend, he make the choice," the madam suggested.
I really wanted to laugh at the look on Jack's face. On the one hand, he wanted to see what was on offer, on the other, he was, as we say, shit-scared! I decided it might upset things if I did laugh, bearing in mind these places usually had some muscle hidden away, so I just smiled politely, and nodded. Tapping Jack on the shoulder I told him he'd better choose one before things got ugly. He nodded, dumbly, and chose one of the two girls. The other girl opened the curtain and sat down in the window.
I hardly noticed his choice, I was thinking of the big tits, well-rounded arse and wide lips on the black girl next to me. The madam returned to her desk and produced what looked like a menu, but was in fact a price list! It was in several languages, which wasn't surprising considering where we were. Don't ask what the options and prices were, I can't remember, but I wouldn't normally pay that much for screwing any woman back home, professional or not! But I really didn't care, I just wanted to get hard and shoot my load as hard as I could.
