King George of a Monday Night
King George was an itch that had to be scratched, so off I went after arriving in Berlin on the second last Monday of October. I wasn't expecting much, but the curiosity was to much to ignore. I left it knida late, arriving at about mindnight. Rang the bell, and Lisa welcomed me in. She doesn't have any English, and my German is basic enough, so she fetched Maria from the bar. I already knew the drill from reports here, and Angus' blog, but I went through the ropes anyway.
I try to give a lot of smiley eye-contact as possible, as it puts people at ease and it makes peole trust me somewhat. I like when they seem to have a nervous, smiling double-take of my initial demeanor. Anyway, I asked if I was clear to go, Lisa said, 'ya ya, bitte'. Upon entering, there was two girls at the high table to the left, two against the bar and one further in near the pole. I sat at the bar and I ordered my Vodka and orange-juice, and tried to maintain. The main difference one will notice between a regular brothel / bar scenario and King George is that eyes are not all on you as they normally would be. In fact the ones at the bar didn't even look around. I kinda developed a nice rapport with Maria behind the bar, she smiled every time I looked over and did comedy eyebrow raises.
I couldn't help also but give a big hand-waving Hi when they all looked round eventually. It was recipricated with little unthusiasm. Then I saw a tall dark skinny bird walk from behind me who sat behind at the end of the bar. I assumed this might be the infamous Petronella, as whe didn't really mix.
One thing for sure, is that the vodka was watered down, or maybe some water was vodkaed up, because I wasn't getting any hit at all. I had three vodkas in about ten minutes. A fat one at the bar with her back turned, swang around and tried to make chit-chat, but she had no English so that died a death, but mainly because she was on the heavy side it has to be said. There was a nice looking fuller-figured Amy Winehouse lookalike at the high table opposite the bar, so I went over after I had warmed up. Now, I had noticed that she had an aloof skanky nature about her before I approached, but I thought it might be young girl newbie nerves, but she was a real no-nothing non English-speaking blert afterall, from Romania.
After trying with my little German to make light chat about how she looked like Amy Winehouse, and involving barmaid Maria across the bar in the conversation, who jealously asked who she looked like. I said Cleopatra to great applause, I just threw it out there about a 'Zimmer'. She then made mongo sounds while doing the universal blowjob gesture, as well as the jiggy-jiggy fucking motion at someone behind my back. This is poor bordello ettiquette by anyone's standards, but I said fuck it to myself as we headed for a room.
We both mechanically stripped, as I was looking for the slightest bit off eye-contact, but none. I told that she must be tired, and she might need a back massage to ease the tention, though it was more as a method for getting me hard. She lay on her belly, as I climed on top, and began giving her a shoulder massage. She then stopped me, and motioned for a towel, to which I thought this meant for me to have a shower. I got up and went near the shower, only for her to stomp up off the bed to grab a towel to cover her arse with. Ah ffs! What kind of hooker is suddenly ashamed of showing her arse? Right, on I went until I got stiff. She didn't even give the slightest moan or groan or make-believe that I was pleasuring her. I could see her eyes wandering the room.
On with the show. She then grabbed a rubber lashed it on my knob, and began the oral. You can imagine how crap it was. She then motioned for me to go mish. I gave it some, but she was not into it at all. I stopped for a second to feign concern over her mood, and gently made her smile with my fingertips. She snapped, and gave me a slap on the side of the arm hummphh sound. Right! 'Finito', I shouted. Got out of her, and said it wasn't working. 'Nein, nein. Ficken ficken', said she. 'nein danke', said I as I got up off the bed, immediatley got in the shower. She then just lay on the bed with a face that would turn milk sour. Fuck her, I thought. I'm not being held hostage to this crap.
After getting dressed, I helped her up off the bed in the fashion Soccer players help each other off the grass. 'Friends', I said. And just gave her a peace-offering hug, and motioned for her to kiss my cheek. Ha! She fell for the oldest trick in the book. I turned my face at the last second for a lip on lip peck. She walloped me again on the side of the arm.
We went back to the bar without further commotion. Maria then said she forgot to tell me that I could buy the lady a drink. 'NOT FUCKING HER', I said as loud as I could, to which she seemed to have no surprise as to what my reply would be, and a look of sympathy. The girl in question is named 'Sofia', and you can see on their website doing an un-enthused by-the-numbers pole-dance. By the way, she had never heard of Amy Winehouse. Make of that what you will.
While I waited further, and tried to chat with Maria, but she was too busy cleaning up. There was only one other punter in the house, who was with a girl in a room.
It might be 'All-Inklusive', but that doesn't prepare you for the lack of 'talent', dull atmosphere and crappy Turkish-sounding hip-hop. All of the girls were not one bit nice looking (apart from Sofia to give her her skanky due) , and one was positively ugly; short hair, jam-jar glasses and a limp.
This night needed rescuing and it came in the shape of a tall striking looking bird wearing thong worn with a net body-stocking. She really kept eye-balling me. I mean really. I didn't thing where you look behind you to see if it's you. I was keeping my cool, trying to look vaguely vague with an unthreatening loose smile, and she was really checking me out. She sat at the bar without really engaging with the clatter of witches that stank out the joint, so I went over to her.
'Hi, mein Name ist D, wie heiίt du? ', says I. She replied, 'Petronella'. Inside I was laughing so loudly. We began to chat, and I was telling her about the last episode with Sofia. She seemed not to be too surpised by my complaints. Long story short; fuck of the year. Well, best in a long time anyway.
We got on famously, which I put down to her being able to mirror my enthusiasm. We laughed a lot before, during and after the whole. I told her how the other one was embarrassed to shoe her ass. She then got on all four and pushed her's in the air for me to gasp at as a reply. Now, she didn't really look to me a lot like her online photos, she has deffo put on a few, but it's only a little extra flesh but she carries it well and her hair is a little lighter in colour. She was very passionate; DFK, hands all over, and told me all about her first time with a lady the previous week with great detail. 'Tell me more', I said. This made her laugh a lot. She totally got me over the first experience with Sophia.
I hadn't cracked one off in about two weeks in preparation for my second Berlin trip in 6 weeks, so I had a nice when it came time. She was the first girl whom had put a rubber on me with her mouth, and she had it on without any pomp or ceremony. One little flick is all it took.
I did offer to tip her, but she just told me to buy her a piccolo for 25. I just gave the money to her in the room for to do with what she pleased, but fair play to her, she gave the money to Maria for the piccolo, and she drank it all without offering it to me, unlike the tramps in Mazurka.
I'll wind it up by saying the night ended with having just the one experience with Petronella, but what an experience. We chatted at the bar for a while the the clean up was going on, and she is actually a very decent skin. She even put my coat on, and wrapped my scarf around my neck like she cared. What a gal! She asked me to come back the next evening, but I had other plans on how I was going to use my second night. Which was great.
So in conclusion, King George is not somewhere I'd recommend hand on heart. It's not that it's seedy, but just not worth it as the girls are neither any pretty nor game, but I wouldn't knock someone off going if they really wanted to see for themselves. It's just a bit meh! I could have gone up to the other girls if I'd wanted to, but I just couldn't take one for the lads. Sorry, I just couldn't! If it hadn't been for Petronella, it could have been a third stinker for me in Berlin.
One minor gripe I have in general with late brothels in my experience, is letting a taxi-driver hang around the place near end of night. It gives a real impression of routine.
