When I put the fate of my weekend punt in the hands of FIA members, allowing them to determine the location of my next act of debauchery, I knew I was asking for trouble. I was, strangely enough, hoping and dreading at the same time that you took me out of my comfort zone. And so you did by picking Stiletto, a place I had been avoiding since I first heard of its prices a long time ago.
(SKIP IF YOU JUST WANT THE SEX DETAILS)
But it wasn’t just a matter of prices, it was mainly a matter of personality. Bear with me for a second for the following analogy, which hopefully will illustrate my point.
I can think of two types of book collectors for example. On the one had you have the type of collector who simply walks into Berkelouws, enjoys the slick design of the place, maybe has an espresso, browses through the books until he finds one he fancies, gets his credit card out his pocket and pays for it. Maybe a lot of money spent but not that much time wasted; he walks out with a smile on his face, thinking how privileged he is and regards this as one of the perks that make his life a very good one.
On the other hand, you have the other type of book collector who prefers browsing through flee markets and visiting old ladies homes. He visits with no particular rush these places and often he can’t find what he’s looking for, some times weeks go by, even months, and he hasn’t acquired any new item for his collection. In any case he’s only ready to pay what he would for an ordinary best-selling novel. Finally luck smiles upon him and just by chance, while visiting his neighbour’s house, he notices an old book that is used to level one of the sofa’s legs, which happens to be shorter than the others. He volunteers to come back with a new leg of the right size for the sofa and walks out with a smile on his face and with a 2nd edition of J.M. Barrie’s Peter Pan under his arm.
They are two different ways of approaching things and both are valid, but while I am not a book collector, I guess that if I was one, I’d be closer to the second type.
I love brothels, sometimes more than sex itself, but I love the older style affordable converted terrace house brothels with a red light up the front. I like to walk in and hear the creaking of the floorboards under the old carpet. I like the smell of old cigarettes and humidity. I like the narrow dark corridors. I like the impression of walking into an empty house, where the receptionist manages to pull five girls out of a hat; older style brothels are strangely silent places. So every time I walk into one of those places, I know I won’t find a collection of gorgeous women just making some money to complement the income normally supplied by their modelling careers. No, I don’t think that but I only walk with the hope that one of those girls is the odd one out, the one who looks like Claudia Schiffer but one you can still shag for little money with no mention of extras. It is almost another case of “If you believe in fairies, clap your hands”… so generally, I sit in a waiting room and mentally clap my hands hoping for Tinkerbell to show up. Many times she doesn’t, she’s nowhere to be seen. However, I have met many Tinkerbells over the years in these places. It is time consuming and as I said not always works out, but the rewards are obvious when it does.
So, Stiletto, at least the idea I had of it, was far from the older style affordable converted terrace house brothel with a red light up the front. As soon as it was clear that this would be my punting venue for the weekend, I went online and started cross-checking the names on Saturday’s roster with any info available on this and other forums. Only one really matched some glowing references, while most of the others did not have any reviews written about them. Just in case, I memorised the names of girls I shouldn’t see. I went there, however, with an open mind, trusting that if there was a suitable girl, I’d be able to spot it during the intro, using my super punter’s power of intuition and smart questioning.
I knew the prices: $190 for 30 min., $255 for 45 min. and $310 for the hour (plus 10% surcharge should you choose to pay with a credit card). Somehow I had made my mind that 45 minutes without too much time wasting would bring me close to an hour experience at any other Sydney parlour I know.
After shaving and grooming myself, I head to Camperdown to that corner I had seen countless times and now I was due to visit for the first time. Except that it wasn’t really right on the corner. After I rang the bell, I realised that the place was some Spa & Solarium business, which is part of the same building where Stiletto is, ten metres away. Probably owned by the same people. It occurred to me that it would make a fantastic cover-up for many of the girls working there during business hours. Imagine the following conversation between a WL and her unsuspecting boyfriend: “Hey, my mate saw you walking out of Stiletto the other day”… “Your mate is an imbecile; I was getting a tan at the solarium!”… (yeah, right).
Eventually I made my way to the right entrance and, after double-checking that the place wasn’t a nightclub, I rang the bell. A very young receptionist in uniform (almost a hotel-style uniform) greeted me and took me to one of the intro rooms. Music was loud and the place looked cold and gigantic at first sight; I guess that the architect was a big fan of the film Metropolis… unfortunately the staff and WLs did not follow up with the futuristic 1920’s fashion. Everything is made on a scale much bigger than the average human being really needs, including the couch of the waiting room… which by the way, I’m not sure if it’s meant to accommodate a single individual or bunch of guys visiting together.
The young receptionist told me the prices and a description of what the basic service includes (massage, oral and sex) and went looking for the girls. This is the moment when I expected twenty girls, all former “Home & Away” starlets to show up and say hello. Well the choice was limited to only two girls available at the time… and no, I don’t remember them from “Home & Away” (though one did look very familiar). They were Phoebe, an athletic and friendly girl who looked a bit surprised when I asked her about the style of her service. “Do you kiss?”… “Ahhh”… “Ummm”… “Errrr”… “A little” (with her hands going over areas which were not exactly the ones I was interested in). Mind you, she was attractive and I do have a bit of a fetish for athletic girls, but her body language was indicating me that I would be taking a big gamble. Second girl was Hayley, who came in, shook hands, said her name and left.
So, not quite what was in my mind nor probably the minds of those who chose Stiletto for me. Okay, it was time to start using my token online pervert knowledge, so when the young receptionist came back, I asked if Mercedes (the one of glowing reviews) was actually working. She said she’d find out for me. After a couple of seconds, another receptionist (or let’s call them recreation attendants) came and told me that Mercedes was in fact working but that it would be one and half hour for her to be available. Without much of an option, I decided to go to Leichhardt for something to eat and come back later.
One and half hour later I was back and to my horror I was told by the young recreation attendant that Mercedes was still in the same booking and that she’ll still be busy for another forty minutes. So I decided to have a new intro with whoever was available at the time. Okay, this time there were many girls, starting with Hayley again. I did notice that her greeting style of shaking hands and pissing off is pretty much the standard routine for all of them. The couch I was sitting on, would easily accommodate an entire rugby team… however, none of the girls saw it fit to sit next to me and pitch her services.
There were some attractive girls among them, quite a few exotic types (which I’m not really into)… and the only girl who got my attention going entirely on looks, was Morgan, dark hair, pale skin, a quasi Goth look to her… well, she didn’t even shake hands.
Another recreation attendant (more with a supervisor look) came to see me and asked me if I wanted to stay with any of those girls, to which I replied “Not really”. I was wondering what to do, coming back on Sunday?… Heading all the way to La Petite Aroma (second chosen place)?… but the whole Saturday night experience would’ve felt futile, plus maybe you wouldn’t have believed me I went to Stiletto in the first place. So it occurred to me that booking Mercedes, even without having met her, still presented itself as the best alternative.
Supervisor Recreation Attendant called Very Young Recreation Attendant for her to take care of the booking. Now Very Young R.A. informed me that they only take one-hour long bookings. Oh, what the hell, let’s go ahead with it and worry later. In the meantime I decided to head to the local pub and wait there… except that just as I was arriving a chatty drunken guy started talking to me when I was about to cross the traffic lights. He was going to the pub too… and since the only way I can have an entertaining conversation with a drunk is for me to be drunk too, I kept going to the next open place, which happened to be that dreadful drive-through McDonalds, where I got a coke and sat and waited and waited. I could see Allure from there, knowing that a very good option was to be found inside for much less money too… but I had already committed to Stiletto and to be perfectly honest, I was praying for a happy ending to this story.
After forty-five minutes I was back at Stiletto. By now the entire staff of Recreation Attendants (and they were many!) was very friendly towards me and probably they had worked out I wasn’t the average Stiletto client. Mercedes though, wasn’t quite ready yet (I wonder who was the lucky bugger who spent over two hours with her… probably an escort job). I was led to a small (yet slick like everything else) waiting room where I was given a drink and there was a monitor with some porn on. Soon I got bored and switched to a gentleman’s magazine. After another fifteen minutes or so, the door opened and the truth was finally revealed… an absolute blond bombshell walks in and apologises for the delay with a kiss (not quite a pash in the mouth but better than a handshake).
(THE SEX BEGINS HERE)
Mercedes took me upstairs to a room with a spa (which we didn’t use), settled money, health inspection, new drink from the room bar and left me for a second while I had a shower.
I’d say that Mercedes is in her early twenties, size 8, blonde, blue eyes, B-cups, absolute gorgeous butt and face. You can see her details at the Stiletto website.
I cannot vouch for the authenticity of the photos as her face is out of sight but I can certainly vouch that her body looks exactly like that. Now albeit a bubbly personality, the service started a bit on the shy side, with me looking for a girlfriend style experience but she avoiding kisses on her lips. Oh no, I thought, where those glowing reviews come from? However, gradually, she gave in and switched to DFK. The funny thing is that her kisses involve lots of tongue, they’re quick and wild. I was still after more lasting, gentle with less tongue ones, more lip romantic activity. A tendency which somehow was constant for most of the session: me after some GFE and Mercedes happy to oblige with PSE instead (eventually she would rewarded me with a bit more of a balance)… but let’s not jump there yet.
We started with a CBJ. Her BJ technique is very good and you forget it’s covered. We soon switched for a 69 position but my tongue had to compete with her hand, as she likes to touch herself most of the time. I just went with the flow and she decided to start the coitus with a reverse cowboy position. Seeing that heavenly cute butt jumping on top of you is quite a spectacle. After a few minutes, on a screwdriver move she rotated and kept jumping, actually jumping, on top. Great but a bit risky for Junior, as a wrong landing could’ve have painful consequences for it… LOL
We switched to missionary where there was more kissing happening while looking at those gorgeous blue eyes she has. Now, the problem with me and Mercedes is that we both like to lead the action, so I found that during missionary there was too much movement going in every possible way. We had to switch to doggy, which all along I knew it was going to be the main course. Did I mention her butt?… okay I did, but it’s obvious that she likes doggy too. I loved it when she went flat on her tummy, so I could bounce better and I finished this way. After a quick rinse, I indulged with a bit of DATY straight away. Now, she does indeed get very wet and I mean very. We then went for round two and did it all again until I came again at the nick of time. She was very, very good knowing when it was time to be authentic and when a bit of acting could help… I think the key of this was that the acting bits were part of a fantasy agreed by both of us.
We shagged almost solid for the full hour and they buzzed us out in time. In between romps, during the little moment of rest we had, I looked at the mirror on the ceiling and understood that a girl like Mercedes is the essential element that this ogre cave called Stiletto needs to become your very own fairy tale castle at least for a moment. That’s when the giant and cold spaces around you become a cozy extension of your satisfaction and your beautiful companion. Take the girl away or make the wrong choice and there won’t be any magic, no matter how many times you clap your hands. So, remember, always do your homework!