I was a Beijing john



Anonymous



When I lived in Beijing for a period around the Olympics, I was a john. I had occasionally drunkenly stumbled into using prostitutes back home, in my early 20s, when sexually desperate. These encounters were nearly always dreadful, with hookers at the bottom end of the sex-worker market who I met when drunk and even more desperate than usual. They would complain, grimace, act resentfully, and do the barest minimum, if that. But in Beijing, nearly ten years on, more experienced, no longer desperate, I’d left that all behind.





Or so I’d thought.





The trouble was that I was too impatient to play the dating game, and I also have a particular sexual fetish that I need to fulfill from time to time. Basically, I really enjoy giving facials (we’re not talking makeup here). I could perhaps have found a girl for the night at a club or bar, and this did happen, but they had their own preferences and desires, and of course there was no way I could insist on something they didn’t want to do. So paying for it, and being clear what I wanted, seemed reasonable. It cut out the bullshit.





Beijing is (or was then – things seem to have tightened up) both permissive and conservative. Prostitution seems endemic, with flyers thrust under hotel room doors and “salons” with pink lightbulbs on indicating sex work on practically every block, and the Sanlitun bars roared all night. But relationships lead far more quickly to marriage than you expect in Western countries, with the window of opportunity for women an insanely short period after graduation at 21 before they’re considered leftover by around 27 or so. There’s little concept of relationships as merely fun, or sex as recreational. Girls were always just wanting to get married. I was always shy of the brothels, afraid of being ripped off and also concerned that my shitty Chinese would open me to being exploited. (A Western friend also told me that he had been scammed in one, which further deterred me.) There are no strip joints in the traditional sense, but there is “strip KTV” – karaoke bars with private booths where dancers put on a show. These are perhaps harder to find, being less visible from the outside than the salons, but I’ve been taken to two for stag parties. Both were borderline clip joints which did their best to scam us, with one even locking us in when they presented an inflated bill, but so the grey legal area of entertainment goes.





I preferred online searches. Beijing is the only city I’ve found where Craigslist casual ads actually work. Used back home, they only attract endless bots and scammers, but in Beijing I got genuine responses to ads where I made clear that I wanted to cum on a girls’ face and would pay to do so. This was just before dating sites and apps really took off, so it was about the only place to be frank about what you wanted. (The Beijinger website had personal ads, but would reject anything too blunt, and eChinaCities had ads from “escorts”, though these seemed to be professionals who demanded more than I was willing to pay (asking for around RMB1500 for a meeting).





The girls who responded to my ads were all local, educated, and professional, who generally did it for extra money on the side. I had two regular girls that I switched between and there were also several random encounters, for various reasons. The randoms were memorable in their own way. One girl, who I’ll call “Wendy”, responded to an ad and wanted to meet that very day - as soon as possible. She could not accommodate and I was between apartments and staying with friends, whose hospitality I did not want to abuse. So I thought she could come to my office after hours, as there was a toilet on that floor that would be deserted by then. She was agreeable, so we met for dinner to while away the time. Wendy was just a regular looking Chinese girl of maybe 25, albeit with very strong glasses. About 8pm I thought the office would be deserted so I took the elevator first and told her to follow on behind a few minutes later - wisely, because the last straggler was just leaving. I made up a story of needing some files from my work computer as she left the office. I waited in the toilet for her to leave, just before Wendy arrived on the floor. Wendy was good and willing, and I would have happily met her again, but she rebuffed all requests to do so, then deleted me from QQ.





Another girl I met, who I’ll call “Lisa”, was after a cat-and-mouse game on MSN Messenger, after contact through the classified ads on The Beijinger. Eventually she asked to meet the next day for lunch. I wasn’t exactly sure what she wanted – we had merely been chatting in a friendly/flirty manner. But hope springs eternal, so I was agreeable and suggested she come to my apartment. I met her at the subway station: she was both younger than I expected (around 22) and taller (around my height), with the perfect smooth skin that drives me wild. Once inside, Lisa sat on the sofa, awkwardly. She asked what I wanted to do. “Have fun?” I arched an eyebrow, all debonair (haha). She whispered, nearly inaudible, “You pay me.” Ah… That’s what it was all about. She said she would not do oral, but was fine with getting a facial, so we agreed on RMB500. It all went well, and we met another two or three times afterwards. She would not meet when I asked, only when she wanted, probably when she was short of money for something. She would however get in touch on MSN when she wanted something, like asking for help in finding a husband or a job, as though I had them falling out of my pockets.





The regular girls were both interesting. Both had normal jobs and worked on the side. Lillian was perhaps 25, sold makeup and, if not stunningly pretty, had unusually great tits for a Chinese girl. I was very keen on her. I guess she had a fair roster of clients, because unlike all the others, she would not engage me when I idly tried to chat with her if I was bored at work. Her boundaries were firm. Nonetheless, when it came to sex she was perhaps the most willing, allowing me to take pictures of her, for example. I usually did in-calls to her apartment, but one time she had her sister staying, so she hired a hotel room nearby, in Dongzhimen. No doubt she had enough clients to make it pay.





June on the other hand was less professional about sex work. It just seemed a way to randomly make more money. She was about 27 and worked for a translation company, so her written English was good, though her spoken English was mediocre. She wasn’t particularly good looking, and she also would not do oral, but was fine with me cumming on her face. The Chinese girls I met always charged based on the activity rather than the time spent, so as a result she dropped her price. She also worked nearby me, at Guomao, so we met for lunch first of all. I was worried that she would demand we go to some ripoff joint where I would get stung RMB5000 for tea, but no, she simply wanted me to pay for her noodles. We got a private booth, and she told me in one breath that she was a traditional Chinese girl, and that she didn’t do oral but I could still cum on her face. I guess it depends on your definition of “traditional”. I tended to meet June more often than Lillian, as meetings were easier to arrange and (quite frankly) she was cheaper: only RMB300 per meet, compared to RMB500 for Lillian. But we would also meet for lunch once or twice a week I liked seeing June normally, and as I paid for it she would oblige by doing some dirty talk which I would record on my phone. For her part, she would quiz me about relationships, money, jobs, and that sort of thing.





All the girls were all a great contrast to the desperate scamming hookers I’d met back home. They were happy (or willing) enough to go along with what I wanted, as long as it was what we’d agreed – I was always respectful and never pushed for more. They were pleasant company, who I enjoyed meeting outside of our sexual encounters. (Once I bumped into Lillian in Paddy O’Shea’s when I was with a girl I wanted to date, which was interesting). They were, of course, money conscious, and I was always aware I was a john: there was no affection. But they weren’t grudging or unpleasant. None of them asked to be paid until after the deed. Western prostitutes always insist on being paid beforehand, so you’re effectively powerless if they don’t perform what has been arranged. Nor was there a pimp exploiting them for money. I myself never had the feeling of abusing them. They responded to ads, we negotiated activities and prices, and they were nearly always willing to meet again. Maybe you think sex work is by its nature exploitative, that they were desperate and I was abusing that. This seems to me to deny their agency and freedom of choice. They were willing and so was I, so the transactions went ahead. They were only ever transactions, services paid for. But that’s what being a john is all about.