External Link/Members OnlyExternal Link/Members OnlyI was in Preston, spotted the top one of these two profiles and wondered if it was somewhere new as the photos bore no relationship to what I saw last time. Anyway, asked the question "where are you?" and got the reply: Herbsnetic. I decided not to bother, but an hour or so later got another message "well do you want to make a booking"? Seemed a different attitude, different people so I thought I'd give it a go. Mistake.
Walked to the shop, same as before inside. No sign of the Indian chap who was running it before, or his two helpers. Instead place was being run by what looked and sounded like a size 14 Romanian girl in jeans and sweater.
She directed me upstairs, up a very steep and narrow staircase which to my eye would fail any safety checks. At least the threadbare carpet has gone, now replaced by green paint where the carpet should be in the centre of the stairs....
Before going upstairs I'd used the downstairs loo, where it became apparent they were on an economy drive over the non-use of water. Going up the stair continued this moneysaving theme as the stairwell lights were turned off, with no windows. So you climb into the gloom, at the top totally dark. What had been one big first floor room has now been carved up with DIY studwork into two rooms with a connecting corridor. We stumbled down the corridor to a door, opening it by touch (another girl had briefly opened another door to stop us going in her room - she was barely visible in the dark). The two spoke - sounded like their names were something like Ziggi and Diggi or some such nonsense.
Anyway into the room. Not much more than a boxroom holding a folding trestle table. A single bed would have filled the room. The DIY studwork wall was "flexible" and there was grunting heard through the wall that sounded like an angry walrus.
Anyway, I stripped off, lay face down on the trestle (it did have a face hole), relished in the two mustard-yellow and one shit-brown streaks on the circular pillow. Looked at the positioning of the trestle and thought "this is going to be awkward". Sure enough she comes into the room and shoves the table sideways across the floor with me on it......
Massage begins, she asks "firm or medium", I select firm. There followed a period of dabbing-on of oil....tap-tap-tap-tap, followed by squeezing. I guess the idea was some kind of lymphatic drainage, but it was a total waste of time. At intervals as she needed access to different body areas she kicked / slid the table around the room, with me waiting to bail out if the inevitable collapse happened.......someone is going get hurt there. No delicate touches, no teasing, nothing at all. Even after she got me to turnover and my credentials were on show for easy access, nothing happening. So just what the other girl was doing in the other room to get the guy grunting I don't know.
The event ended with a tissue paper wipedown and then she fucked off while I dressed. No hint of any extras, which seems totally at odds with the lack of modesty towels or the fact she was EE not Indian. Maybe you need to specifically ask? But that's not really a good idea.
But to summarise, £40 for one hour for a non-massage in a crappy building with a Romanian chubster who seemed disinterested, and with no hint of extra benefits.
If the massage had been any good then that would have been fine, without anything else. But in reality it was just crap
