Gerontophilia and a hairy hand on your harpoon
The Shooter hit Bahrain on a Sunday, the 1st time in many a year.
Figured to start the week with a nice thai massage, set off on down exhibition avenue…There are many massage joints here, sadly they all provide m2m or f2f services. One would have thought that one’s fellow members would have mentioned this germane fact, unless they actually enjoy a hairy hand on the harpoon…
After a fruitless search, the Shooter happened to spot the Baisan Hotel, home of the famous Warblers bar…Big crowd for the Euro footy final. Great atmosphere for the match. Good grub at reasonable prices. But no spare pussy. All BYO. A drunken Saudi latched onto the Shooter, a pleasant enough fellow but an unwelcome distraction and an occupational hazard in Bahrain. Coupla Filis came in later, they were up for it but were too plain to arouse the Shooter’s interest.
Thus the disconsolate Shooter trudged back to his hotel, his body fluids intact and unshared.
The next night the Shooter sauntered into the Delmon hotel and the warm bosom of the Diggers Bar. Not much atmosphere. Slow and unfriendly service. But plenty of girls. You look at them. They look at you. No plausible deniability here, everyone is present for one reason only.
The Shooter spotted a splendid specimen, her bronzed Thai thighs shimmering in the artificial light. The Shooter went over, hesitated and his prize was lost to the coarse embrace of a hairy-arsed oil worker. The alternative was an excellently-endowed Chinese in a mini-skirt, but the boat race was substandard and the Shooter feared an unaesthetic walk of shame across the hotel lobby.
Twas a quiet Monday evening, clearly a buyer’s market and the Shooter was soon approached by a tall, well-attired Chinese. Bit mature, but well-spoken and relatively classy compared to her colleagues. The deal was struck at BD60. Back at the Shooter’s hotel, guest registration was required at a cost of BD12.5. The Shooter spotted her DOB on the passport copy – 1963 WTF!! Does this qualify as gerontophilia?
They say that age is just a number, and this turned out to true. An unlined face, soft unwrinkled skin and no sagging anywhere. A quasi-GFE in the classic Chinese mode. Saufeng cranked out the two shots from the Shooter's reluctant weapon in admirably proficient fashion. The Shooter had broken his duck.
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Tuesday night in Bahrain.
The Shooter left work uncharacteristically late and in famished condition, so twas Warp 9 to Warblers and their famous sizzling steak. About THREE people in the bar at 930pm, and this was ladies night.
Later the bar filled up with Filipino housemaids, no lookers and some real heffalumps. For long periods the Shooter was the ONLY Westerner in this famous expat bar. WTF!
Eventually 3 Chinese WG’s wandered in. Only 1 was serviceable and she came over to ply her charms. Sophia was quite charming and the Shooter intuited a good performer between the sheets. But the Shooter did not fancy her artificial nasal and mammary proboscises. Hence, as the only eligible p4p participants in the entire bar, they were both shit out of luck. The good band and unusual scenarios caused the Shooter to tarry a while, and it was after midnight before he dislodged himself from his comfortable perch and ambled back to his hotel. While passing the Metropolitan Hotel, he espied some activity which upon investigation was the entrance to the famous F1 club. The Shooter could not resist entry. The place was kicking with a lively band and a large number of attractive ladies, apparently a combination of Chinese WG’s and Fili civilians.
A tall and sartorially splendid Chinese immediately attached herself to the Shooter’s side. Another place with a shortage of punters and very much a buyer’s market. A perfect scenario to negotiate the lowest possible price, but the Shooter no longer plays that game, preferring to pay the normal rate in his perpetual quest for the ultimate GFE+PSE.
The Shooter made a note to return to this fine establishment, but left alone on this occasions so as not to sabotage a work meeting a few hours later.
