Your first time in the hobby? I know, I don't have any reviews... I'll go first. 21, In college, socially retarded. I hire a woman out of the phone book, (80's) She show's up, cute, short dress, I pay with a check... We commence to making out on the couch, kissing, fingering, I am hard as a stone. I come in my pants. She is very reassuring and wants to continue, she has red marks on her legs, flea bites she says, I am convinced she has some strange std. I send her away, embarrassed. I am convinced 30 years later they were flea bites and I am a tool. I am still at it off and on 30 years later. You go.
especially the early 80s, no internet, a few ads in the local newspaper (really) and the phone book. Research, no....almost every meeting was a chance although LE in most cities did not care much then, but no internet, no research, no TER. I started in saunas and relaxation lounges...you new guys have a lot more tools to make your hobby experience much better than the old days, although we did have fun...oh yeah forgot about the very hairy pussies...au naturale was in vogue.
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a random lady out of the phonebook for your first encounter?
I did lots of research for my first lady and it paid off (about two months ago).
Hell...in Boston, it was walkers in the Combat Zone, or if you knew someone, you might get into the back room for some OTC at the local tittie...
My first P4P was the prom...in 87, it was 25 per ticket, 75 for the limo+ tip, 75 for the tux, 20 for the corsage...Thats my story and I'm sticking to it...lol
especially the early 80s, no internet, a few ads in the local newspaper (really) and the phone book. Research, no....almost every meeting was a chance although LE in most cities did not care much then, but no internet, no research, no TER. I started in saunas and relaxation lounges...you new guys have a lot more tools to make your hobby experience much better than the old days, although we did have fun...oh yeah forgot about the very hairy pussies...au naturale was in vogue.
While not my first, you're absolutely right. In the late 80s in Chicago, The Reader was the only place I knew of to find P4P except for the street walkers on the West Side. It was sight unseen - ya pays your money, ya takes your chances. And it was to where you lived.
I was 17 my first year in the dorms at UC Berkley 3 of us pile in an old rebuilt corvair without a heater in the dead of winter and drove over the Sierra Nevadas to Sparks Nevada--the Mustang Ranch. We were frozen, but it wasn't stiff. Then the sign on the door read "OUT TO LUNCH BEAT IT" They had a pool in the back and security caught us, took us in. We told the girls why were cold, they figured out the rest. After long talks, each one of us was taken by the hand into their rooms. As we left, the sign on the inside of the screen door said, "Come Again"
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