Service and/or Provider's Name:
Jinju Spa
Country & City:
Seoul, South Korea
Date of Encounter:
December 2019
Contact Method:
Walk-in
Internet Link?:
Appointment Length & Costs:
~1 hr, 170,000 South Korean won
Type/Location:
Incall massage/spa
Language Notes:
English, Korean
Details of the Encounter:
Getting a good HJ from an Asian girl whilst licking her feet is my jam, and I've had many such experiences, mostly from lovely and accommodating Thai ladies in various massage parlours around the world. But I find South Korean girls the most beautiful creatures on earth, I love to watch them flutter across the busy streets of Seoul, and gaze at themselves in their selfie cameras in any of the billion cafes around the city. But I'm middle aged, and no matinee idol. So, finding myself alone in Seoul on a Saturday night in December, I decided to have a look at Jinju Spa, down a well-lit alley in Gangnam. It's reviewed mostly favourably elsewhere online as a waegukin-friendly establishment staffed entirely by Koreans, and college age Korean girls in particular. The usual course, at 150k won (I've seen both higher and lower prices in reviews), starts with a Korean ahjumma in a short dress giving a Korean-style massage, which she ends by warming up your willy by hand, after which the Gangnam club darling comes in, bares her expensive made-in-Gangnam breasts for your groping, and finishes you off in her little white hand. For 10k won additional, a B course allows you to start with the college girl and then proceed to the massage, with a second pop provided by the middle-aged masseuse. A C-course, for still another 10k won, starts you with a college girl HJ, proceeds to the ahjumma massage, and ends with a handy from yet another college-age girl. There are reports that Korean customers are given various oral options, but I didn't inquire as I'm a bit paranoid of infections...and as I said, a good handshake is my favoured favour.
On entering the well marked door (wide open to the alleyway and in view of a major street), I immediately doffed my shoes, put them in a locker, and took the numbered wristband key. The Korean gent at the front desk welcomed me in English. I told him I wanted the most expensive course, with the bookend babes, and he charged me 170k won. I paid Korean cash. Another young gent led me round the corner to the locker room, where I was to undress. The wristband key opened a larger locker where I stored my clothes and belongings.
Usually in Korean establishments, care is taken to prevent customers from running into each other, but here the pretense is of a traditional men's spa, so you must strip down in the locker room and walk nude and with great confidence into the showers, where there are five showerheads lined up in a wide-open space, prison style, along with large hot-spring type baths, and an attached sauna. Though it was near 2 a.m. and Gangnam was still hopping outdoors, happily Jinju Spa was quiet, and I was alone in the showers. I got clean, put on a robe, exited to the waiting area, and one of the young male attendents led me into the rabbit warren of massage rooms.
The place is shockingly large and complex. We took several turns down dim hallways lined with doors. There must be fifty or more private rooms in the place. The massage room was not notably dirty nor notably glamourous. The linens on the table seemed fresh. I hung up my robe and lay down. Almost immediately the first girl came in, pulled out her great bosom, and went to working my willy. She was in her mid twenties, neither especially pretty nor physically fit, and her great udders were rather depressingly saggy. I prefer small and pert. Never the less, I tried to enjoy the hand I was lent and took my time coming to the end. I asked for nothing extra, and she offered nothing. As I'd spoken to her in Korean, she let me know in Korean that there was no time to spare. I popped, she mopped, and out she went, replaced immediately by the ahjumma masseuse.
The ahjumma was not pretty, although in her little dress she appeared considerably more fit than the younger girl, and her attitude was a bit better, the attitude of a woman who has seen hard times in the past, and is contented, if not thrilled, with her lot. If you've never had the pleasure of a massage from a Korean ahjumma, and the opportunity arises...my advice is to roll your body down a rocky hill instead. Having just popped, I wanted to relax, but she proceeded, for an eternity, to mash my limbs and back with rough, dry towels, apparently at random. I'd made the mistake of showing that i could speak some Korean, so now she came out with a thousand prying personal questions. Where are you from, what's your work, why are you in Seoul, who are you staying with, and so on, oblivous to the possiblity that a man might prefer not to spill his biography to a random sex worker. It was at this point that the cigarette smoke that fills the whole establishment (also unusual in Korea, where indoor smoking is generally prohibited) began to irritate me. I was getting a headache, and trying to interpret her prying questions, and having invent plausible lies to satisfy her curiosity, and then having to figure out how to communicate these lies in my rather basic Korean.
Finally, I told her that my ribs hurt, and I wanted her to just give me a soft, oil massage on my chest and belly. She accommodated me for two glorious minutes, before she left the room to fetch some hot towels, which she proceeded to pile rather brusquely on my chest before yanking them away once more.
At this point, I was despairing that I'd even be able to rise to the next occasion..but that's when my ahjumma surprised me. She began warming me up for the next girl. She used both hands, and she knew well how to use them. Her technique was so good, I nearly lost my cool, nearly let her give me my second pop. But I held off. I told her that her technique was much better than the ahgasshi who'd come before her. She then offered me, apparently on the sly, some service I didn't entirely understand, but that sounded like the B course I mentioned at the beginning of this review. Perhaps she was offering something else. I didn't much bother to undersatnd. When she had me risen and shining, she called the next girl in and departed, giving me her employee number, should I ever return and wish to be mashed under coarse towels again.
The second young lady was, frankly, stunning. Slim with long straight hair, and beautifully made up in the icy, perfect Korean style, with rather nice fake breasts (in most cases I hate fakes). She went at my willy like the assembly-line worker she is. Twice I asked her to go more slowly, and to squeeze harder. The first time she ignored me, and the second she simply told me no..exactly the way a night nurse in a hospital, with a long list of patients ahead of her, would tell you no if you asked her to take your blood pressure more slowly. I was exasperated. I asked her, politely but firmly, to put her feet up for me to touch them, and after at first ignoring this request as well, she finally gave me a foot to hold, clearly just wanting to speed the process along. She warned me not to tickle her. It was a beautiful foot, and although the moment checked off most of my dream scenario boxes, it was difficult to enjoy. I popped, and she mopped. Then she got me into my robe and led me through the maze back out to the spa area.
I showered between three Korean boys who looked like university freshman, and who were overjoyed to see me there, and keen to practice their English greetings on me. Again, I was mystified at the lack of interest in privacy and discretion. I mostly ignored them. It occurred to me that if they are the usual clientele, the level of service at Jinju makes more sense. Everyone working there seems to be simply trying to make it through the night, preferably without being assaulted by a drunken ahjusshi. One can't blame them, but from the paying customer's side, it's a rather depressing standard of service.
Other reviews vary, as they will. I suppose if I'd arrived just after a shift change, and hit the jackpot with a some less-jaded providers, I'd be writing a different review. But I'd still have gone home smelling, awfully, of cigarette smoke.
Pictures/Advertisement Accurate?:
Final Thoughts:
Not Recommended.
Closing Comments:
I'll be in Tokyo soon, and if anyone can give me a hint as to where I might satisfy my fetish (feet in face handjob) with a college aged J-girl, and leave not feeling entirely miserable about the life choices of everyone involved, I'd be much, much obliged.
Jinju Spa
Country & City:
Seoul, South Korea
Date of Encounter:
December 2019
Contact Method:
Walk-in
Internet Link?:
Appointment Length & Costs:
~1 hr, 170,000 South Korean won
Type/Location:
Incall massage/spa
Language Notes:
English, Korean
Details of the Encounter:
Getting a good HJ from an Asian girl whilst licking her feet is my jam, and I've had many such experiences, mostly from lovely and accommodating Thai ladies in various massage parlours around the world. But I find South Korean girls the most beautiful creatures on earth, I love to watch them flutter across the busy streets of Seoul, and gaze at themselves in their selfie cameras in any of the billion cafes around the city. But I'm middle aged, and no matinee idol. So, finding myself alone in Seoul on a Saturday night in December, I decided to have a look at Jinju Spa, down a well-lit alley in Gangnam. It's reviewed mostly favourably elsewhere online as a waegukin-friendly establishment staffed entirely by Koreans, and college age Korean girls in particular. The usual course, at 150k won (I've seen both higher and lower prices in reviews), starts with a Korean ahjumma in a short dress giving a Korean-style massage, which she ends by warming up your willy by hand, after which the Gangnam club darling comes in, bares her expensive made-in-Gangnam breasts for your groping, and finishes you off in her little white hand. For 10k won additional, a B course allows you to start with the college girl and then proceed to the massage, with a second pop provided by the middle-aged masseuse. A C-course, for still another 10k won, starts you with a college girl HJ, proceeds to the ahjumma massage, and ends with a handy from yet another college-age girl. There are reports that Korean customers are given various oral options, but I didn't inquire as I'm a bit paranoid of infections...and as I said, a good handshake is my favoured favour.
On entering the well marked door (wide open to the alleyway and in view of a major street), I immediately doffed my shoes, put them in a locker, and took the numbered wristband key. The Korean gent at the front desk welcomed me in English. I told him I wanted the most expensive course, with the bookend babes, and he charged me 170k won. I paid Korean cash. Another young gent led me round the corner to the locker room, where I was to undress. The wristband key opened a larger locker where I stored my clothes and belongings.
Usually in Korean establishments, care is taken to prevent customers from running into each other, but here the pretense is of a traditional men's spa, so you must strip down in the locker room and walk nude and with great confidence into the showers, where there are five showerheads lined up in a wide-open space, prison style, along with large hot-spring type baths, and an attached sauna. Though it was near 2 a.m. and Gangnam was still hopping outdoors, happily Jinju Spa was quiet, and I was alone in the showers. I got clean, put on a robe, exited to the waiting area, and one of the young male attendents led me into the rabbit warren of massage rooms.
The place is shockingly large and complex. We took several turns down dim hallways lined with doors. There must be fifty or more private rooms in the place. The massage room was not notably dirty nor notably glamourous. The linens on the table seemed fresh. I hung up my robe and lay down. Almost immediately the first girl came in, pulled out her great bosom, and went to working my willy. She was in her mid twenties, neither especially pretty nor physically fit, and her great udders were rather depressingly saggy. I prefer small and pert. Never the less, I tried to enjoy the hand I was lent and took my time coming to the end. I asked for nothing extra, and she offered nothing. As I'd spoken to her in Korean, she let me know in Korean that there was no time to spare. I popped, she mopped, and out she went, replaced immediately by the ahjumma masseuse.
The ahjumma was not pretty, although in her little dress she appeared considerably more fit than the younger girl, and her attitude was a bit better, the attitude of a woman who has seen hard times in the past, and is contented, if not thrilled, with her lot. If you've never had the pleasure of a massage from a Korean ahjumma, and the opportunity arises...my advice is to roll your body down a rocky hill instead. Having just popped, I wanted to relax, but she proceeded, for an eternity, to mash my limbs and back with rough, dry towels, apparently at random. I'd made the mistake of showing that i could speak some Korean, so now she came out with a thousand prying personal questions. Where are you from, what's your work, why are you in Seoul, who are you staying with, and so on, oblivous to the possiblity that a man might prefer not to spill his biography to a random sex worker. It was at this point that the cigarette smoke that fills the whole establishment (also unusual in Korea, where indoor smoking is generally prohibited) began to irritate me. I was getting a headache, and trying to interpret her prying questions, and having invent plausible lies to satisfy her curiosity, and then having to figure out how to communicate these lies in my rather basic Korean.
Finally, I told her that my ribs hurt, and I wanted her to just give me a soft, oil massage on my chest and belly. She accommodated me for two glorious minutes, before she left the room to fetch some hot towels, which she proceeded to pile rather brusquely on my chest before yanking them away once more.
At this point, I was despairing that I'd even be able to rise to the next occasion..but that's when my ahjumma surprised me. She began warming me up for the next girl. She used both hands, and she knew well how to use them. Her technique was so good, I nearly lost my cool, nearly let her give me my second pop. But I held off. I told her that her technique was much better than the ahgasshi who'd come before her. She then offered me, apparently on the sly, some service I didn't entirely understand, but that sounded like the B course I mentioned at the beginning of this review. Perhaps she was offering something else. I didn't much bother to undersatnd. When she had me risen and shining, she called the next girl in and departed, giving me her employee number, should I ever return and wish to be mashed under coarse towels again.
The second young lady was, frankly, stunning. Slim with long straight hair, and beautifully made up in the icy, perfect Korean style, with rather nice fake breasts (in most cases I hate fakes). She went at my willy like the assembly-line worker she is. Twice I asked her to go more slowly, and to squeeze harder. The first time she ignored me, and the second she simply told me no..exactly the way a night nurse in a hospital, with a long list of patients ahead of her, would tell you no if you asked her to take your blood pressure more slowly. I was exasperated. I asked her, politely but firmly, to put her feet up for me to touch them, and after at first ignoring this request as well, she finally gave me a foot to hold, clearly just wanting to speed the process along. She warned me not to tickle her. It was a beautiful foot, and although the moment checked off most of my dream scenario boxes, it was difficult to enjoy. I popped, and she mopped. Then she got me into my robe and led me through the maze back out to the spa area.
I showered between three Korean boys who looked like university freshman, and who were overjoyed to see me there, and keen to practice their English greetings on me. Again, I was mystified at the lack of interest in privacy and discretion. I mostly ignored them. It occurred to me that if they are the usual clientele, the level of service at Jinju makes more sense. Everyone working there seems to be simply trying to make it through the night, preferably without being assaulted by a drunken ahjusshi. One can't blame them, but from the paying customer's side, it's a rather depressing standard of service.
Other reviews vary, as they will. I suppose if I'd arrived just after a shift change, and hit the jackpot with a some less-jaded providers, I'd be writing a different review. But I'd still have gone home smelling, awfully, of cigarette smoke.
Pictures/Advertisement Accurate?:
Final Thoughts:
Not Recommended.
Closing Comments:
I'll be in Tokyo soon, and if anyone can give me a hint as to where I might satisfy my fetish (feet in face handjob) with a college aged J-girl, and leave not feeling entirely miserable about the life choices of everyone involved, I'd be much, much obliged.
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