December 26, 2016 §
I remember going to Berlin in 2004 and between leaving my mother’s front door and opening the front gate I had developed an erection, so easily turned on was I in those days! And I wasn’t disappointed when I got there. I think that was the trip where I met Yulia and lost my Berlin virginity in that black James Pryde bedroom above Stutti Frutti or Hanky Panky or Mon Cheri–-I was too drunk to remember which. And, I don’t mean to be crude, and I know it sounds terrible, but at one point she was on all fours on the four poster bed, and I honestly don’t know whether I put myself in her front bottom or her back bottom. I still wonder about that to this day. It was incredibly dark in there. Such was the ice back then!
December 7, 2016 §
I was drinking in the hotel bar for a few hours in the end, enjoying the Berliner Kindl so much, and the scary thing is I have absolutely no memory of leaving, or in which direction I turned when I did. My memory starts when I was around Mommsenstraße and Windscheidstraße looking for the Berlin Erotic Centre. BEC itself was a massive disappointment. The store seems to have doubled in size and left just one tiny little corner for the kabins, and the film selection was so small and poor. Mon Cheri was closed, of course, and the only place open in that stretch was Stutti (or is it called Chocolat), just the barmaid. She says the three girls had already gone to a hotel with three businessmen about 10 minutes before I arrived. There was a sexy Turkish woman in black dress outside Sissi Bar, and a sexy blonde outside Monte Carlo, but I pressed on to Club 77 and never came back. The walk back to the hotel afterwards seemed unbelievably long and took forever and I could not believe I had walked all this way before, and as I say, had absolutely no memory of even leaving the hotel.
November 28, 2016 §
Cold, grey, bleak northern France gives way to cold, grey, bleak southern England. I look forward to BEC in December, my hot swollen —- keeping me warm as I head up to Stuttgarter Platz. My Rabelaisian, Casanovan wanderings around Europe resume. Kent has never looked so beautiful to me as it does now. How empty most of it is.
November 12, 2016 §
The great thing I discovered in Berlin was that you could sit with the girls drinking and talking with them before taking them upstairs to a room. In Soho you have to go straight into the bedroom and get straight on with it and be out again in 10 minutes; or in Munich you can sit with the girls drinking and talking with them but then there is nothing else. But in Berlin, you can sit with the girls in lovely plush dark Mucha salons and then take them up to even darker wonderfully opulent bedrooms. It gave me the greatest erotic experiences of my life. And in London you just have all this private dancing. What is the point of it? It just arouses passions it cannot fulfill.