As a young man traveling as a tourist, I happened upon a porn shop in the downtown section of the city I was visiting. The shop had a prominent neon sign that read “Live Nude Models”. I had been in porn shops in my hometown and in other various locales. In my experience triple X stores contained rows of hard-core magazines in shrink wrap, sex toys, and private booths with video machines which consumed lots of quarters as you beat off to the serial images. I would have kept walking if this was another one of those shops. But the “Live Nude Models” sign stopped me in my tracks. What does this mean? How wide open is this place compared to my staid hometown? My next stop could wait. I had to check it out.
As I walked in past a manned counter, I saw two parallel rows of open shelves which contained the usual fare -magazines and toys. Booths with video machines lined the opposite wall. But to the rear of the store, in a separate section, I could see two young women sitting in open booths.
To get my bearings and settle my nerves, I stopped to look at some of the printed material. After a couple of minutes of libido raising page turning, I decided to head to the rear.
I suppose the women were taking turns with customers because it was the girl in the further away booth who greeted me. I was glad she did. Not only was she the more attractive of the two, but she just looked sluttier. She had a sheer dress with a plunging neckline. At that time and place I wanted slutty. I told her it was my first time in the shop and I asked her, “what’s the deal”. She said for ten dollars you get a private show (this was the 1970s so adjust for inflation). She also said, “we can talk during the show”. It was not a whole lot of information but when was I going to do this again. I said, “okay, let’s do it”.
The booth had one door for the model and one door for the customer. There was a telephone on each side of the booth. A screen covered the glass partition between the two sides. When I picked up the phone the girl said you put ten dollars in the slot and the show will begin. After I inserted the bill the screen opened mechanically.
When the screen came up the woman pulled her dress up over her head. She was wearing top and bottom lingerie under the dress. She asked me, “are you horny”? I assured her I was. She then said, “you want to see some tits”? When I gave her a yes she took off her top, revealing average size attractive breasts.
I later came to know that the very purpose of these shows was to allow the customer to masturbate in front of a willing female. But first timer that I was, I naïvely asked her if it was all right for me to take it out, gesturing to my crotch. She surprised me by saying, “oh yeah baby, let me see that dick”.
I unzipped and pulled it out. Given my youth and all the stimulation, it only took a few strokes for me to be at full mast and wacking away. To this point that most wonderful of female things was still covered. With dick in one hand and the phone in the other, I said to her, “can I see your pussy”? The girl kept surprising me in the dirty talk category by smiling and saying, “you want to jerk off to some pussy, huh”? I could only repeat her words and say, “I do want to jerk off to some pussy”.
She put down the phone and stepped out of her panties. Though she had been standing up to this point, she sat down on the chair on her side of the booth. She then spread her legs revealing a large lipped pussy surrounded by dark brown hair (again this was the 1970s).
She picked up the phone and then began the most crudely lustful patter I had ever heard in my tender young life. She had learned how to get the boys off. I forget the order but she was encouraging me by saying such things as, “beat that meat”, “jerk it off”, “shoot your sperm”. In response to my steady stare she said, “you like this hairy pussy don’t you”. (I remember these things because I replayed them many times in future solitary masturbation sessions).
I wanted one more view. As I neared my climax, I said to her, “if you spread your lips, I’m going to cum”. She said, “you dirty boy”, and with her free hand she spread her pussy lips and said, “shoot your cum”. With a beautiful pink blossom framed by dark hair staring back at me, I did just that.
She pointed to a roll of paper towels on the floor on my side of the booth. I used a towel to clean off the end of my dick and I dropped it into a nearby waste basket. I did not choose to take responsibility for my addition to the cum splattered floor. As my new amour put on her clothes she said to me, “come back again with some more money and we can do some nastier stuff”. Knowing that I was leaving town in two days, I asked her, “are you working tomorrow”? She then said, “I’ll be here, but you understand you got to bring more money if we are going to do any good stuff”. I told her I did understand and I would be back.
It first seemed a little odd that she raised the subject of money for other services at this end stage. I later concluded that she felt it was safe to take it up then because I had demonstrated I was not the police. What cop was going to do what I did – “well yes Your Honor I did take my dick out and beat off, but it was strictly for investigative purposes”.
I did come back the next day for a yet more eventful session but, given the length of this post, I will save that for another time.