Report. Four hands. Motor City
I had to go to Abu Dhabi today for work, so on the way back I thought to myself, Motor City is on the way back, and I had already contacted a few places to get ideas about their lineups.
So on the way back, I stop at the first gas station back in Dubai to fill up and get a bit of extra cash. As the car is being filled up, I switch phones and write the place and say I'll be there in about thirty minutes, to which they ask which therapist I'd be interested in. As I get into the shop, I find out there is no ATM, so I think, no problem, I'll stop at the next gas station, I fire up Google maps to guide me to the place, and look for another gas station on the way, and Maps dutifully sends me on a side street in an industrial area to do a you-turn and then get back to an ADNOC station. However, this is a long light, and tons of trucks are trying to force their way in to either turn left or do a you-turn. So I wait patiently, take a call from a colleague, answer the parlor I'm not sure if I'll go for four hands or a Moroccan bath, to which the receptionist recommends the therapists good at four hands. I eventually get to the gas station, no ATM. Damn. I leave, go to the next gas station, and I think, great, an ATM. Transaction cannot be completed. I write the place and ask if they know the closest ATM, and they helpfully reply that the shopping center with the supermarket nearby has some. So I make my way there, plenty of people waiting for the first ATM in the entrance, so I go a bit more inside, find the bank, and luckily only three people waiting. So I wait, and wait, and lo and behold, it's my turn, and guess what. Transaction cannot be completed (I even tried out of desperation the bank card from back home, didn't work either. I was starting to think my bank here is thinking all these random cash withdrawals look suspect). I'm now thinking, if I can't get cash out of the ATM at the entrance, I'm going to call it quits and head home. No way I'm paying any of these places with a credit card, and even then, I wouldn't have enough cash with me for a decent tip. And then, destiny heard my call, and let the ATM spurt out a wad of reds and a yellow. So then, feeling a bit relieved but still eager to get to the place, I finally get back into my car again, and drive over.
Now, to avoid giving too many clues, but for the cruciverbalists (dammit, autocorrect, it IS a word) out there, the place could be described as one of exact consonance.
So I get there, park, take the elevator, and go in. I tell the lady at the reception I was the one saying I'd be there in half an hour an hour and a half ago, apologize for being late, and go for the four hands massage, and chose two girls, one of which I'm told is not available, I chose another, and the receptionist actually tells me I can have my original choice. I pay three reds, and she then leads me to the room, which, added perk, has a shower, and I change into the shorts and wait for my therapists. They then come in.
To find the name of my first therapist, you have to travel to a more ancient part of town, where sights, sounds, smells, and having trouble parking are all the reminders of the early years of Dubai, where dropping a dirham coin is still all it takes to take a smelly diesel abra across the creek and where some of the early signs of modern Dubai appear. If you walk around the restored area of that old neighborhood, where streets are narrow enough to be called "sikka" (which I suppose means "alley") you will come across this ancient relic from a fortification wall of that old group of houses. If you were to visit the Dubai museum, which is also in the area, you will be told a lot of walls were built in this same material, which is where my first therapist derives her name from. For the second therapist, look at the pictures, she's the one with the unusually colored hair.
And so the massage begins, with one lady taking care of my back and shoulders, while the other one takes care of my lower half. The pretense actually lasts only a few minutes, and pretty quickly I'm asked if my shorts can be removed, to which I reply that if the massage requires it, who am I to object. So my bottom-half therapist starts vicious cycle of getting closer and closer to the danger zone, while my top-half therapist actually gives me a nice back and shoulder rub with oil. Pretty quickly thereafter comes the question, and FS is on offer, and after I propose under the 1-2-3 rule, I'm asked if I can do better, I object, and we settle on three reds each.
I then flip over, one of the therapists gets out to get her kit, and I help the one who stayed inside undress (although not much to do, she was riding commando), and then she tries to start the action early, to which I say half-jokingly but half-seriously that we will start once her friend is back and the door is locked, so there's a bit of fooling around under the towels, and the other one comes back in, I help here out of her pants, and here we are, all three in our birthday suits, rearing to go.
So this would be a good moment for a description. My first therapist (clues above) has black hair, a naughty smile, is a tiny bit of extra around the waist, and nice medium-sized naturals. My second therapist has the unusually colored long hair, a slimmer body and some pumped up lips.
So the action commences, one on the rod, and the other feeding me her boobs, always an enjoyable proposition when one is given access to nice naturals. Among the permutations of limbs, positions and nether regions, I notice my first therapist is a better kisser, giving full-fledged DFK, while the second one, even though she won't go all the way, has those nice plump lips which are eminently kissable as well. Now the one thing about a setup with four hands or three somethings is that it's hard to have attention equity. You can half both on your nether regions (which is fantastic), but then your hands and tongue can't reach over; you can do a 69, but then one of the ladies is shut out; you can do cowgirl while the other girl kisses you, but then you can't really see all of the action; mish shuts out one of the ladies unless the can do synchronized rimming (which wasn't on the table); in the end I even tried the alternate-flip human centipede, with me on all fours trying to pleasure my second therapist laying down, and my first therapist laying down in between my legs and servicing my shaft, although to my dismay the bed was too short (also, not sure how long I could have sustained the position, but come to think of it, if everybody flips over, this should work). So in the end I finished into the mouth of my second therapist while the first one was giving me DFK. I then relaxed a bit while the recipient of my generosity showered, and then showered with my first therapist. I then pay them both, finish drying myself, dress, and leave contented, while noticing that the receptionist is now wearing glasses, which gives her a cute look.
Girls: 7 for my first therapist, 8 for my second.
Attitude: 8 for my first therapist, 7 for my second (would score higher if she DFK'd).
Deed: 8.
Place: 7, nicely arranged with a shower in the room I was assigned.
WIR: it's on my list for when I'm in the area or if it makes sense on the way back home in the evening. Might try the massage + Moroccan bath combo at some point.
Marco.
Report. Supersonic BBay #2.
Feeling the itch one evening and not getting very interesting lineups from other places in the Bay, I got back in touch with the place in the title that I had been too a little while ago. They tell me the Moroccan lady they had told me about earlier was no longer available (went to another place), so I looked at their selection, enquired about a lady whose name is the French name for an immaculate saint of one of the major religions. I indicate I can be there in about half an hour, and am told she will be available. I go draw some reds (without having to run by five ATMs like last time) and drive over.
On getting to the spa, I'm told she might be available in ten minutes (because she thought I might be late), and I can go with another girl, whose name is like this celebrity chef who does things with salt, without the salt. On the rate, I start saying I'm a regular, that I could get some sort of discount, and the receptionist tells me I can get a 90 minute massage instead (seven reds). I go ahead, and ask for a good room, and am shown a regular room with an attached Moroccan bath setup. So I settle in, start changing, my therapist comes in, to my question replies the shorts are not needed. My therapist is slim with small boobs, with a perky attitude. I lay down, and she gets started with what will turn out to be a good massage (this time with lotion instead of oil, less sticky), just the right amount of pressure for me and pretty relaxing. A tiny bit of chit chat, but she is quite inquisitive, asks how much I paid at the counter, to which I probably make the mistake of telling her the amount (she says I should actually see that directly with the therapist, could be cheaper, as she says she only gets a small cut of what was paid at the counter), she asks who I went with last time, tells me she actually left the place and then came back a few days ago.
Anyway, as the mid-game mark is approaching, she starts working on my shaft with me still laying on my front, as I progressively raise my mid-section. At the flip, she manages to negotiate an extra red for mouth action, which I think is a bit petty but I go ahead. The action starts with a tit job that although sensual, is not really one as she does not have the right asset class for such an activity. We then get to mouth action which is actually pretty good, and go through a variety of permutations of appendages, two party hats, and a hand finish for the final. After that, a nice shower and back home.
Girl: 7, perky attitude, perky small tits, slim.
Attitude: 6, a bit too gossipy and inquisitive, and the haggling for what should be part of the package dampened the mood a bit.
Deed: 7, quite some endurance on her side, says she came twice.
WIR: possibly, if the lineup gets new blood, and with a bit better negotiation.
Marco.
