Hidden Image/Members OnlyI’ve been going on bike rides around the Bois de Boulogne – the big forest west of Paris – for some years. Very occasionally I stop and pay for some fun with one of the hookers who hang out there (as reported
HERE and
HERE).
Both of my previous encounters involved trans whores. Now, after a pause of more than three years, I’ve had a blowjob and a wank from one of the mature females who hang out in an area known as the Camp des Latinas. It was pretty good, lasting maybe 15 minutes, and it cost me the princely sum of €20.
Like the other times, the action took place in a makeshift “cabane”. These give you privacy inside a cube of tarpaulins or sheets tied between tree-trunks and branches. I’m too chicken to go with one of the hookers who ply their trade in the back of vans parked on the forest roads, even though that would allow me to get horizontal. But paying for sex is a crime in France and I feel that being shut inside a van is a vulnerable position if les flics come knocking.
I set off from home at around 3pm. I was planning on some action so swallowed a sildenafil tablet and had some cash in my pocket. But then I spent 90 minutes criss-crossing the Bois without approaching a soul. This was due to a combination of cowardice and not spotting anyone I was attracted to. All good exercise anyway.
I was about to give up and go home when I decided to take one more swing by the Camp des Latinas, which doesn’t get going until late afternoon. From the dirt track alongside I could see two women signalling to me from about 25 yards away and one of them looked OK. So I got off the bike, wheeled it into the camp and went to take a closer look.
The one I liked had started to walk away, leaving her mate to greet me. She did this by pulling down her top and jiggling her enormous fake knockers. I didn’t fancy her at all so I politely declined and walked after the other one, who turned round and also took her out enormous fake knockers for my inspection. She didn’t look so good close up, so I said “non, merci” and began to exit on the other side of the camp, ignoring their black looks and muttered insults in Spanish.
On my way out I had to pass another hooker stationed outside a cabane and she looked much more appealing. Late 40s at least, but with a prettier face than the others. Her tits were large but not ludicrously blown up. So I stopped, asked the price for “une pipe” (a blowjob) and was pleased to be quoted only €20.
I leaned my bike against a tree, put the lock on it and we went into the cabane. She had a hook where I could hang my bike helmet and the space inside was larger than the previous ones I’d been in. Very neat, in fact, with a bin for the condoms, tissues and wipes. I handed over the dosh, dropped my jeans and pants and she got to work with her hands while I wrapped my lips around each of her nipples in turn. Her tits felt nice – possibly even real. She was OK with light French kissing and I gave her a bit of soft soap, telling that she was by far the sexiest girl I had seen in the camp. Which was true. She had absolutely perfect white teeth, which I admired and contrasted to my own crooked gnashers. I also got my hand under her miniskirt and she opened up a bit so I could finger her gash.
My cock was quickly up to speed and she reached for a condom. No, she wouldn’t suck me without one, sadly, so on it went and she plopped me between her bright red lips. Her mouth action was vigorous but not too rough and she me let me thrust from the hips without complaint. Did I want her to finger my bum too? Yes I did (she used a condom for that, too). But nice as it was, the blowjob could have lasted two hours and I still wouldn’t have nutted so after maybe five minutes I told her to finish me with her hand, and to do it by gripping me tightly at the tip of my knob. This she did, but I still wasn’t going to cum so I took over the wanking while she poked my bumhole, fondled my balls and I groped her tits. Finally I spurted on to the earth floor (which I guess is what everyone does in these places except those who want sex).
She cleaned my cock then wiped my lips in case of lipstick traces. All in all, it was a nice experience at a price lower than I used to pay while kerb-crawling in Liverpool 40 years ago. I think I’ll seek her out again. She gave the impression that she liked me, which is a prostitute’s primary function in my book. I did ask her name but it went in one ear and out the other. I do remember that she was from Colombia.
I’ve managed to create an AI image that’s not too far away from her face and figure (hair not so tidy, but equally big) and that’s a stock image of a cabane alongside it and a Google Street View grab of the stretch of road in question. The drivers of all those cars were probably in a cabane getting their rocks off.
If anyone else is in a position to visit the Camp Des Latinas it’s about 100 yards south of the junction of Allée de la Reine Marguerite and Avenue de la Hippodrome, in the woods on the left. Its What Three Words location is years.timeless.token
