WEIGHT: 51 kg
Sex services: Face Sitting, Tantric, Massage, Uniforms, Massage Thai
A massage table was said to be dirty. Two nights earlier, stern. It was only in the beginning of June that the so-called flat-rate brothel opened on the outskirts of Stuttgart and it had duly confused the Swabian world. The immoral offer worked: Men stuff their trousers and shirts into the metal lockers and hastily wrap the towel around their privates.
Here — for the first time this morning — I can see naked flesh. Never mind — after all, the 60 women lounging in the deep leather armchairs are also wearing almost nothing. But now, first of all, have a Coke at the counter and calmly take a deep breath. Next to me, someone already asks for his first beer. The Swabians make a big difference between expensive, cheap and free. This illusion he shares with about men.
And so the contact area is soon cleared like a bargain counter at the sales. While the Rhinelander is kneading my back muscles, he philosophizes on that southern tribe [the Swabians]. You can shake it. On the way to the brothel canteen I pass many rooms. Apparently, they also skimped on the doors. There are only strip curtains that obscure the view on the beds inadequately. One voluminous man wobbles around on a petite woman. She looks to the door.
I wave friendly, she waves back. He does not notice and continues wobbling. I put a couple of lukewarm fries, a chicken leg and a mixed pickles salad on my plastic plate and watch the dish a long time.
No one but me is eating here. Soon after in the sauna, I am the only guest as well. Finally, on the rooftop terrace, I meet an exhausted man. Dieter is his name and he is a journeyman painter from Heilbronn. His towel slipped, exposing his manliness. The conversation quickly changes to the painting trade and the rigid German Crafts and Trades Regulation Code. After all, there is someone who still can, I think and get myself an Oettinger, too. At the counter, a girl sits down next to me.