Service and/or Provider's Name:
Chia (Ch-Ch-Ch-Chia Pet!)
Country & City:
Busan, Jung-gu, Korea
Date of Encounter:
22 October 2017
Contact Method:
Walk-in
Internet Link?:
Appointment Length & Costs:
2 hours for W270,000 / Y27,000 / US$240
Type/Location:
Karaoke Incall
Language Notes:
Korean Only, but the manager spoke fluent Japanese and decent English
Details of the Encounter:
As I prepare to write this review, I realize that it may be of little value to any TAGgers other than to perhaps satisfy your curiosity about what goes on in a Korean KTV -- curiosity you maybe didn't even know you had until just now. I don't know the name of this shop, but I'm sure I could walk you there again if you were here. Better hurry, though, I'm on the road again soon!
Anyway, I don't think the shop matters. I have been to sex karaoke in Korea in the late '90s as well, and the shop and era didn't seem to change anything. I've read some don't allow foreigners, but the three I've walked into in my life all did, and I chose this one because it had Japanese all over the sign, so I figured at least Asian oegug-in were OK. It also said, in katakana, "カラオケキャバクラ" so I knew it was the right kind of place -- I like to think my well-honed monger instincts know family karaoke from スケベ shops, but one can never be sure. All the signs are pink and purple and have flashing lights in this town — even the shops that just sell pink and purple flashing lights.
Another thing I've read frequently online is "don't pay for sex in Korea unless you have terrible self-esteem and like being treated badly." I have run across that in my '90s romps as well... the provider simultaneously smoking and talking on her flip phone (ah, the days before smart phones) during actual intercourse and then getting angry when I was taking too long.
Will this encounter turn out this way? Let's read on and find out! (I'm trying to make a fairly tame review seem interesting -- work with me here.)
Midnight had come and gone and I was wide awake, so I left my barebones hotel room and headed down the street in search of company. As I said, the web warned about Korean sex workers, but the description of their target clientele -- low self-esteem and ripe for abuse -- fit me like a glove, so needless to say my appetite was whet... whetted? Is that a word? It's not underlined in red, let's go with it. Seeing the pink and purple and the katakana as described above, I snuck down the stairs in vain, my presence announced to the waiting employees by some electronic eye that buzzed a buzzer down below. I heard the tinkle of a belled door opening before it came into view, and I was met on the lower landing by a handsome young Korean equivalent of a ちんぷら who ushered me eagerly into his completely empty shop. There was a front desk, a toilet off to one side, and three very large karaoke rooms, all with open doors showing their lack of occupants. He and I tried to chat a bit in English, but he was struggling, so fortunately papa-san came out to help and turned out to speak so-so English. To my happy surprise, he was very upfront about the pricing and the service. On a piece of paper, he wrote out the details and explained in broken English.
Let me interject here that I'll go ahead and translate all the prices into yen for this article. The won is exactly 1/10 the value of the yen, so 100,000 won is 10,000 yen, if you're a purist and want to think in the local currency.
Ahem.
He said whiskey or beer all I can drink is 12,000 yen with no time limit, and the companion is 4,000 yen per hour. He emphasized, perhaps sensing my karaoke otaku nature, that I could hang around and drink and sing alone as long as I wanted for the 12,000 yen, but the chick was 4,000 per hour. He then went further, saying I could choose between two age ranges. 20-29 -- "young girl" as he called them -- were the same price but I couldn't touch them in the room. I could do an outcall for 20,000 yen (which he described as "very expensive" in a friendly way). I had done outcalls with young Korean girls in the '90s and we both know how that turned out. Then he wrote "30-39" on the paper and said, "not young girl" and said for the same 4,000 per hour I could "touch, sex, anything" with them in the room.
See, this is the advantage of being as old as dinosaur bones. 30-39 was still very young to me, so there was no reason at all to go robbing the cradle for less service at the same price.
He then said, the "house special" was a second hour -- not that it was discounted but that things supposedly get more interesting. The implication (in case you're slow or I just suck at getting my point across) was that maybe I wouldn't get FS during the first hour but I almost certainly could if I sprung for a second. I had watched amateur KTV sex on xvideos.com before venturing out, so I knew sex in the room was a thing, by the way, I just wasn't sure it happened all the time and/or with foreigners.
He totaled it all up for me, and it came out to one hour with a companion and unlimited drinks and singing for 16,000 yen. Instinctively, I sucked air through my teeth to buy time. "Chotto takai, naaaaa~" I muttered under my breath. It was like I had just chanted a magic spell that released this gentleman's cursed tongue. "EH! NIHONGO WAKARIMASU KA?!" he practically shouted in relief. When I acknowledged that I did in fact Japanisch sprechen, things went much more quickly and I got the same details again, only more enthusiastically and confidently.
"Does the lady speak Japanese?" I asked, hope creeping into my raspy, lecherous voice.
"Eh.... no."
"English?"
His smile remained frozen in place as he slowly shook his head.
"Perfect," I said. "Who wants idle chatter anyway?"
He ushered me into one of the gigantic rooms with a table that seats about 15, asked "beer or whiskey?" and when I said "beer" he brought in about two six-packs and opened every one of them. Damn, dude. I'm unlikely to drink one freaking bottle at 1 a.m. on a Sunday night, plus I want my wits about me in an environment like this, but I just raised an eyebrow, Spocklike, and listened to him prattle on in Japanese about scuba diving, which he's been doing for over 25 years. I cannot, in spite of my sobriety at the time, tell you how he got started on that topic. I suspect he just brings it up around that time to everybody, while waiting for the lady to arrive. He also showed me how to operate the singing equipment and where to find the English and Japanese songs, and finally the lady showed up.
Yes. It has taken this long to bring you to this point. Did you skip ahead? Good for you.
She was cute! She claimed -- or rather papa-san claimed her -- to be 35. I'm guessing closer to or perhaps slightly over 40, but I'm a terrible judge of Asian women's ages. She was slender, reasonably fit (i.e., not sagging or droopy looking but then uncurvy women don't sag or droop much, do they?) and had a cute face if a bit worn looking. Hey, I'm not complaining or trying to be rude, just accurate. After all, I'm worn looking and I'm not a low-end sex worker (though I have often aspired to be). She was dressed smartly, sort of sexy business, in a white skirt and jacket/blouse. The skirt was just a bit more "karaoke prostitute" than "bank worker," otherwise it was sexy without being over the top. Papasan spent another 10 minutes with us, or so it seemed, explaining things to her in Korean, to me in Japanese, and helping himself to a beer or two. He finally left, and started a timer on the TV on his way out saying my one hour with the lady had begun -- but again saying the beer and singing had no time limit.
Chia -- for that was the name she claimed for herself, and those old enough will join me in wondering if her nether regions were covered in sprouts instead of hair -- sat super close to me and put a hand on my leg as I grabbed the songbook...
...and in popped Papasan and Youngling again with more food than I could have eaten even if I hadn't had a huge pizza all to myself about two hours prior. I nodded my thanks with eyes that I hoped said, in any language you please, GET. THE FUCK. OUT ALREADY. A check of my watch showed that it had been 40 minutes since the buzzer announced my arrival, and I had just finally got my date beside me and hadn't entered a song yet. Kind of like the way this review is going actually. So, you know how I felt.
I sang my first song, and perhaps as pleasing as anything else that happened this night, discovered that my voice was "on" and I sounded good. (Sorry, Alice, you got me for karaoke on a hoarse night.) Chia stood up with me while I sang and said, "WOW!" and "PERFECT!" which I assumed were 50% of her English vocabulary. She danced around and we laughed and had genuine non-sex fun. It was cute and I was thinking, Hey, this is a good karaoke time even if nothing else happens so whatevs.
She asked if she could sing a Korean song and I said yes and she sang quite well, and now while she was singing, she ground her butt against my crotch and put my hands on her breasts outside her jacket/blouse thing. Then she went to the bathroom while I started singing another song, and when she came back, she was a changed woman. She went straight up to me in mid-lyric and shoved her tongue into my mouth, wrapping herself all around me. She was an aggressive kisser, but I didn't mind in spite of a slight cigarette taste. Her mouth was soft and she seemed genuinely into it, so I enjoyed it quite a bit, and forced myself to push my germ fears to the back of my mind. Such a terrible affliction for a sex addict to have, or then again is that why I'm still alive? Hmmmm.
So after the song went mostly unsung due to the difficulty of singing with two tongues in my mouth where I usually have one, we sat down and she pulled her top up and I got to spend a bit of time on her cute, small, dark brown nipples. She said "sorry... small" in English but her boobs were nice enough and I had no complaints. She poured more beer and tapped glasses with me, and that happened often, and she would down her beer in one gulp and I would take a sip, so she was drinking about five glasses to my one, and this became increasingly relevant as the night (morning, actually) wore on.
The sex part was not a freeway cruise, it was more stop-and-go traffic. We'd fool around, suddenly she'd stop, drink beer, sit there quietly, so I'd put in another song. I'd sing, she'd dance, we'd sit down, she'd pull my pants down and start giving me a BBBJ, then she'd stop, drink beer, eat a tomato, try to feed me one -- I kept refusing food but she kept trying, once even trying to spit a grape into my mouth from hers, which I didn't accept, thank you for trying though -- and then I'd sing and then she'd straddle me, and on like that.
Then came the upsell.
In a stream of Korean parsed with a few words of English that included "tip" she eventually made it clear that it was customary for me to give her some money. I kept trying to get an idea how much, but she was adamant in saying simply, "you want; you want." As in, whatever you want to give me. I gave her 5,000 yen and she seemed ecstatic, so I wondered at the cheap bastards before me, and for a bit the sexy play got more steady and intense. She even climbed on me and tried to insert me into her bareback, but I got a hand between my head and her vulva to prevent any raw contact just in time and explained -- twirling my wedding ring as I did so -- that we weren't going to have that kind of sex. She seemed both a) impressed with my fidelity (such as it was -- though trust me, my wife would not consider this fidelity) and b) more than a little disappointed and confused that we weren't going to do BBFS. In fact, she got off me and downed another glass of beer, filled another, got up to go to the bathroom and spilled that full glass all over the place. This led to us furiously trying to clean it up (goddam there was a lot of beer in that little glass) and using all the oshibori and most of the tissues in the room but still having a nice beer pool at our feet and a sticky table.
She came back from the toilet (having put her clothes back on to go out) and we had to start all over. I sang, she danced, she drank, we kissed a lot, got bits of her kit off again, she would eat a tomato and kiss me with a tomato mouth, I would FIV a bit (it was nice down there, btw), she would BBBJ me a bit more, then the time ran out and papa-san came in to ask if I wanted that second hour after all.
"Sure," I said.
But this is where things started to go a little downhill. Chia was, to put it very plainly, drunk as fuck. She spilled her glass of beer no less than four more times, no longer even bothering to clean it up. So the floor and table were just Hite wading pools. She also started to get a little maudlin about the lack of sex (more accurately, lack of additional tipping, as I’ll get to later) and she kept stopping doing things right when they were getting interesting in order to down another glass of beer or eat another tomato or dried fish snack (immediately after which I did not want to DFK, thank you though). She also started belching loudly on occasion and she was getting that lolling around physical attitude that doesn't bode well for the long term.
She also started talking about putting more coin in the meter. She said for me to finish she needed another 10,000 yen, which I knew I didn't have in cash (I still hadn't paid the shop -- in fact, they were adamant I not pay in advance, which made my radar alert but I went with it anyway). She seemed slightly disappointed/frustrated/damn sleepy but she didn't stop me from playing with her body any way I wanted and she would occasionally make a hip-thrusting gesture with accompanying sound of what was supposed to be a dick in a wet pussy, I guess, then she would laugh, hug me, drink or spill another beer, then yank my pants down again, BBBJ a bit, then pull them back up, look lost and miserable and on and on. What I inferred from this behavior was that she wanted to get on with finishing me, but couldn't/wouldn't without an additional tip, and therefore didn't really know how to behave.
Eventually she got completely naked, started giving me a HJ but then laid back on her back with her lovely pussy spread towards me and fell asleep. I was left with a choice. I could finish myself, cum pretty much anywhere I wanted, and then pay up and leave, but that seemed akin to sexual assault, what with her being passed out and all. Or I could try to wake her up and get her re-engaged, but that was going to be more asking for an additional tip with me not sure I had enough now to cover the bill in case there were hidden charges (no way this stuff goes on a credit card) and so forth. I looked at the timer in the upper right corner of the karaoke TV and it said I had seven minutes left, so I just got dressed, sat back down and counted my money, occasionally looked at her cute nakedness while she started snoring loudly, and when the timer reached zero, I went out to the front desk. Papa and Youngling were nowhere around, so they apparently weren't too worried about the time limit anymore, and in fact I probably could have walked the check, as it were. But I stood there and eventually called "sumimasen!" and they both came scrambling out of one of the other karaoke rooms looking sleepy like they had been napping themselves. Papa looked confused that I was alone, but I put my head on my hands like a sleeping person and he laughed and I held a finger to my lips to say, "Let her sleep." I didn't mention she was stark naked, but I knew the workers here had seen her nude because when time ran out the first time she was naked when they walked in.
Papa got out his notepad again and wrote me the new total: 12,000 yen for the beer, 8,000 yen for two hours with Chia, and now a 2,000 yen "manager's fee." This, I assumed, was the fee for listening to Papa's scuba diving stories over a beer. I counted my money. I had exactly enough, but so much for going back in and dropping a thank you tip on the reposing Chia, which made me feel a bit of a heel.
I paid, I left, and for the most part, I had a good time. I could have done without the tomato kisses and the dip in the beer pool, but Chia was a sweetheart and I enjoyed spending time with her and didn't mind tipping her, and the hidden $20 shop charge could have been much, much worse. Had I wanted to, I could have popped, could have even done BBFS right there in the room, while singing. So, I can have no legitimate complaints.
And, as I said, I sang well. And that makes all the difference.
Pictures/Advertisement Accurate?:
Pictures were not seen prior the meeting.
Final Thoughts:
Recommended, May Repeat.
Closing Comments:
You can actually go in with a group and have an orgy in these places. The videos exist on the web. And this was perfect for me, just the right amount of fooling around mixed in with non-sexual cuddling and singing and interacting. Seoul BP (which is not called BP, oddly enough, but Cracker) has BBFS and CIP on offer from the outcall girls, so I guess that's a thing here, but man, it's not my thing. Still, even knowing it is popular here, it was a little shocking to have the girl try it right there in the karaoke room with no discussion. Not sure where I'm going with these closing remarks. This cappuccino must be making me manic.
NED OUT.
Chia (Ch-Ch-Ch-Chia Pet!)
Country & City:
Busan, Jung-gu, Korea
Date of Encounter:
22 October 2017
Contact Method:
Walk-in
Internet Link?:
Appointment Length & Costs:
2 hours for W270,000 / Y27,000 / US$240
Type/Location:
Karaoke Incall
Language Notes:
Korean Only, but the manager spoke fluent Japanese and decent English
Details of the Encounter:
As I prepare to write this review, I realize that it may be of little value to any TAGgers other than to perhaps satisfy your curiosity about what goes on in a Korean KTV -- curiosity you maybe didn't even know you had until just now. I don't know the name of this shop, but I'm sure I could walk you there again if you were here. Better hurry, though, I'm on the road again soon!
Anyway, I don't think the shop matters. I have been to sex karaoke in Korea in the late '90s as well, and the shop and era didn't seem to change anything. I've read some don't allow foreigners, but the three I've walked into in my life all did, and I chose this one because it had Japanese all over the sign, so I figured at least Asian oegug-in were OK. It also said, in katakana, "カラオケキャバクラ" so I knew it was the right kind of place -- I like to think my well-honed monger instincts know family karaoke from スケベ shops, but one can never be sure. All the signs are pink and purple and have flashing lights in this town — even the shops that just sell pink and purple flashing lights.
Another thing I've read frequently online is "don't pay for sex in Korea unless you have terrible self-esteem and like being treated badly." I have run across that in my '90s romps as well... the provider simultaneously smoking and talking on her flip phone (ah, the days before smart phones) during actual intercourse and then getting angry when I was taking too long.
Will this encounter turn out this way? Let's read on and find out! (I'm trying to make a fairly tame review seem interesting -- work with me here.)
Midnight had come and gone and I was wide awake, so I left my barebones hotel room and headed down the street in search of company. As I said, the web warned about Korean sex workers, but the description of their target clientele -- low self-esteem and ripe for abuse -- fit me like a glove, so needless to say my appetite was whet... whetted? Is that a word? It's not underlined in red, let's go with it. Seeing the pink and purple and the katakana as described above, I snuck down the stairs in vain, my presence announced to the waiting employees by some electronic eye that buzzed a buzzer down below. I heard the tinkle of a belled door opening before it came into view, and I was met on the lower landing by a handsome young Korean equivalent of a ちんぷら who ushered me eagerly into his completely empty shop. There was a front desk, a toilet off to one side, and three very large karaoke rooms, all with open doors showing their lack of occupants. He and I tried to chat a bit in English, but he was struggling, so fortunately papa-san came out to help and turned out to speak so-so English. To my happy surprise, he was very upfront about the pricing and the service. On a piece of paper, he wrote out the details and explained in broken English.
Let me interject here that I'll go ahead and translate all the prices into yen for this article. The won is exactly 1/10 the value of the yen, so 100,000 won is 10,000 yen, if you're a purist and want to think in the local currency.
Ahem.
He said whiskey or beer all I can drink is 12,000 yen with no time limit, and the companion is 4,000 yen per hour. He emphasized, perhaps sensing my karaoke otaku nature, that I could hang around and drink and sing alone as long as I wanted for the 12,000 yen, but the chick was 4,000 per hour. He then went further, saying I could choose between two age ranges. 20-29 -- "young girl" as he called them -- were the same price but I couldn't touch them in the room. I could do an outcall for 20,000 yen (which he described as "very expensive" in a friendly way). I had done outcalls with young Korean girls in the '90s and we both know how that turned out. Then he wrote "30-39" on the paper and said, "not young girl" and said for the same 4,000 per hour I could "touch, sex, anything" with them in the room.
See, this is the advantage of being as old as dinosaur bones. 30-39 was still very young to me, so there was no reason at all to go robbing the cradle for less service at the same price.
He then said, the "house special" was a second hour -- not that it was discounted but that things supposedly get more interesting. The implication (in case you're slow or I just suck at getting my point across) was that maybe I wouldn't get FS during the first hour but I almost certainly could if I sprung for a second. I had watched amateur KTV sex on xvideos.com before venturing out, so I knew sex in the room was a thing, by the way, I just wasn't sure it happened all the time and/or with foreigners.
He totaled it all up for me, and it came out to one hour with a companion and unlimited drinks and singing for 16,000 yen. Instinctively, I sucked air through my teeth to buy time. "Chotto takai, naaaaa~" I muttered under my breath. It was like I had just chanted a magic spell that released this gentleman's cursed tongue. "EH! NIHONGO WAKARIMASU KA?!" he practically shouted in relief. When I acknowledged that I did in fact Japanisch sprechen, things went much more quickly and I got the same details again, only more enthusiastically and confidently.
"Does the lady speak Japanese?" I asked, hope creeping into my raspy, lecherous voice.
"Eh.... no."
"English?"
His smile remained frozen in place as he slowly shook his head.
"Perfect," I said. "Who wants idle chatter anyway?"
He ushered me into one of the gigantic rooms with a table that seats about 15, asked "beer or whiskey?" and when I said "beer" he brought in about two six-packs and opened every one of them. Damn, dude. I'm unlikely to drink one freaking bottle at 1 a.m. on a Sunday night, plus I want my wits about me in an environment like this, but I just raised an eyebrow, Spocklike, and listened to him prattle on in Japanese about scuba diving, which he's been doing for over 25 years. I cannot, in spite of my sobriety at the time, tell you how he got started on that topic. I suspect he just brings it up around that time to everybody, while waiting for the lady to arrive. He also showed me how to operate the singing equipment and where to find the English and Japanese songs, and finally the lady showed up.
Yes. It has taken this long to bring you to this point. Did you skip ahead? Good for you.
She was cute! She claimed -- or rather papa-san claimed her -- to be 35. I'm guessing closer to or perhaps slightly over 40, but I'm a terrible judge of Asian women's ages. She was slender, reasonably fit (i.e., not sagging or droopy looking but then uncurvy women don't sag or droop much, do they?) and had a cute face if a bit worn looking. Hey, I'm not complaining or trying to be rude, just accurate. After all, I'm worn looking and I'm not a low-end sex worker (though I have often aspired to be). She was dressed smartly, sort of sexy business, in a white skirt and jacket/blouse. The skirt was just a bit more "karaoke prostitute" than "bank worker," otherwise it was sexy without being over the top. Papasan spent another 10 minutes with us, or so it seemed, explaining things to her in Korean, to me in Japanese, and helping himself to a beer or two. He finally left, and started a timer on the TV on his way out saying my one hour with the lady had begun -- but again saying the beer and singing had no time limit.
Chia -- for that was the name she claimed for herself, and those old enough will join me in wondering if her nether regions were covered in sprouts instead of hair -- sat super close to me and put a hand on my leg as I grabbed the songbook...
...and in popped Papasan and Youngling again with more food than I could have eaten even if I hadn't had a huge pizza all to myself about two hours prior. I nodded my thanks with eyes that I hoped said, in any language you please, GET. THE FUCK. OUT ALREADY. A check of my watch showed that it had been 40 minutes since the buzzer announced my arrival, and I had just finally got my date beside me and hadn't entered a song yet. Kind of like the way this review is going actually. So, you know how I felt.
I sang my first song, and perhaps as pleasing as anything else that happened this night, discovered that my voice was "on" and I sounded good. (Sorry, Alice, you got me for karaoke on a hoarse night.) Chia stood up with me while I sang and said, "WOW!" and "PERFECT!" which I assumed were 50% of her English vocabulary. She danced around and we laughed and had genuine non-sex fun. It was cute and I was thinking, Hey, this is a good karaoke time even if nothing else happens so whatevs.
She asked if she could sing a Korean song and I said yes and she sang quite well, and now while she was singing, she ground her butt against my crotch and put my hands on her breasts outside her jacket/blouse thing. Then she went to the bathroom while I started singing another song, and when she came back, she was a changed woman. She went straight up to me in mid-lyric and shoved her tongue into my mouth, wrapping herself all around me. She was an aggressive kisser, but I didn't mind in spite of a slight cigarette taste. Her mouth was soft and she seemed genuinely into it, so I enjoyed it quite a bit, and forced myself to push my germ fears to the back of my mind. Such a terrible affliction for a sex addict to have, or then again is that why I'm still alive? Hmmmm.
So after the song went mostly unsung due to the difficulty of singing with two tongues in my mouth where I usually have one, we sat down and she pulled her top up and I got to spend a bit of time on her cute, small, dark brown nipples. She said "sorry... small" in English but her boobs were nice enough and I had no complaints. She poured more beer and tapped glasses with me, and that happened often, and she would down her beer in one gulp and I would take a sip, so she was drinking about five glasses to my one, and this became increasingly relevant as the night (morning, actually) wore on.
The sex part was not a freeway cruise, it was more stop-and-go traffic. We'd fool around, suddenly she'd stop, drink beer, sit there quietly, so I'd put in another song. I'd sing, she'd dance, we'd sit down, she'd pull my pants down and start giving me a BBBJ, then she'd stop, drink beer, eat a tomato, try to feed me one -- I kept refusing food but she kept trying, once even trying to spit a grape into my mouth from hers, which I didn't accept, thank you for trying though -- and then I'd sing and then she'd straddle me, and on like that.
Then came the upsell.
In a stream of Korean parsed with a few words of English that included "tip" she eventually made it clear that it was customary for me to give her some money. I kept trying to get an idea how much, but she was adamant in saying simply, "you want; you want." As in, whatever you want to give me. I gave her 5,000 yen and she seemed ecstatic, so I wondered at the cheap bastards before me, and for a bit the sexy play got more steady and intense. She even climbed on me and tried to insert me into her bareback, but I got a hand between my head and her vulva to prevent any raw contact just in time and explained -- twirling my wedding ring as I did so -- that we weren't going to have that kind of sex. She seemed both a) impressed with my fidelity (such as it was -- though trust me, my wife would not consider this fidelity) and b) more than a little disappointed and confused that we weren't going to do BBFS. In fact, she got off me and downed another glass of beer, filled another, got up to go to the bathroom and spilled that full glass all over the place. This led to us furiously trying to clean it up (goddam there was a lot of beer in that little glass) and using all the oshibori and most of the tissues in the room but still having a nice beer pool at our feet and a sticky table.
She came back from the toilet (having put her clothes back on to go out) and we had to start all over. I sang, she danced, she drank, we kissed a lot, got bits of her kit off again, she would eat a tomato and kiss me with a tomato mouth, I would FIV a bit (it was nice down there, btw), she would BBBJ me a bit more, then the time ran out and papa-san came in to ask if I wanted that second hour after all.
"Sure," I said.
But this is where things started to go a little downhill. Chia was, to put it very plainly, drunk as fuck. She spilled her glass of beer no less than four more times, no longer even bothering to clean it up. So the floor and table were just Hite wading pools. She also started to get a little maudlin about the lack of sex (more accurately, lack of additional tipping, as I’ll get to later) and she kept stopping doing things right when they were getting interesting in order to down another glass of beer or eat another tomato or dried fish snack (immediately after which I did not want to DFK, thank you though). She also started belching loudly on occasion and she was getting that lolling around physical attitude that doesn't bode well for the long term.
She also started talking about putting more coin in the meter. She said for me to finish she needed another 10,000 yen, which I knew I didn't have in cash (I still hadn't paid the shop -- in fact, they were adamant I not pay in advance, which made my radar alert but I went with it anyway). She seemed slightly disappointed/frustrated/damn sleepy but she didn't stop me from playing with her body any way I wanted and she would occasionally make a hip-thrusting gesture with accompanying sound of what was supposed to be a dick in a wet pussy, I guess, then she would laugh, hug me, drink or spill another beer, then yank my pants down again, BBBJ a bit, then pull them back up, look lost and miserable and on and on. What I inferred from this behavior was that she wanted to get on with finishing me, but couldn't/wouldn't without an additional tip, and therefore didn't really know how to behave.
Eventually she got completely naked, started giving me a HJ but then laid back on her back with her lovely pussy spread towards me and fell asleep. I was left with a choice. I could finish myself, cum pretty much anywhere I wanted, and then pay up and leave, but that seemed akin to sexual assault, what with her being passed out and all. Or I could try to wake her up and get her re-engaged, but that was going to be more asking for an additional tip with me not sure I had enough now to cover the bill in case there were hidden charges (no way this stuff goes on a credit card) and so forth. I looked at the timer in the upper right corner of the karaoke TV and it said I had seven minutes left, so I just got dressed, sat back down and counted my money, occasionally looked at her cute nakedness while she started snoring loudly, and when the timer reached zero, I went out to the front desk. Papa and Youngling were nowhere around, so they apparently weren't too worried about the time limit anymore, and in fact I probably could have walked the check, as it were. But I stood there and eventually called "sumimasen!" and they both came scrambling out of one of the other karaoke rooms looking sleepy like they had been napping themselves. Papa looked confused that I was alone, but I put my head on my hands like a sleeping person and he laughed and I held a finger to my lips to say, "Let her sleep." I didn't mention she was stark naked, but I knew the workers here had seen her nude because when time ran out the first time she was naked when they walked in.
Papa got out his notepad again and wrote me the new total: 12,000 yen for the beer, 8,000 yen for two hours with Chia, and now a 2,000 yen "manager's fee." This, I assumed, was the fee for listening to Papa's scuba diving stories over a beer. I counted my money. I had exactly enough, but so much for going back in and dropping a thank you tip on the reposing Chia, which made me feel a bit of a heel.
I paid, I left, and for the most part, I had a good time. I could have done without the tomato kisses and the dip in the beer pool, but Chia was a sweetheart and I enjoyed spending time with her and didn't mind tipping her, and the hidden $20 shop charge could have been much, much worse. Had I wanted to, I could have popped, could have even done BBFS right there in the room, while singing. So, I can have no legitimate complaints.
And, as I said, I sang well. And that makes all the difference.
Pictures/Advertisement Accurate?:
Pictures were not seen prior the meeting.
Final Thoughts:
Recommended, May Repeat.
Closing Comments:
You can actually go in with a group and have an orgy in these places. The videos exist on the web. And this was perfect for me, just the right amount of fooling around mixed in with non-sexual cuddling and singing and interacting. Seoul BP (which is not called BP, oddly enough, but Cracker) has BBFS and CIP on offer from the outcall girls, so I guess that's a thing here, but man, it's not my thing. Still, even knowing it is popular here, it was a little shocking to have the girl try it right there in the karaoke room with no discussion. Not sure where I'm going with these closing remarks. This cappuccino must be making me manic.
NED OUT.
Last edited:
