Cherry Blossoms - 5 Alan St, Fairfield - 02 9723 0957 - Archives

[Jack Kerouac]

Hi All,

Cherry Blossoms.
5 Alan St.
Fairfield

The current phone number is 9723 0957

My losing streak, while somewhat broken up, still continues and my mate Farquar rolls on from one success to another. The WL’s go to him like bees to honey and old Jack is given the psychological bums rush out the door.

Well, there we were at Gloria Jean’s again with the Tele and discussing what to do. We decided that it would be SWL on Hargrave St. in Darlinghurst, and hopefully yours truly would enjoy the pleasures of the lovely Sonia. (Why can’t Jack sleep at night? Because he’s got in-Sonia.)

It was not to be as when we arrived, although the outer door was open, there was no answer to repeatedly ringing the bell. What to do?

Off we went to Taylors at Lidcombe. I had gone there a couple of years ago and it was a multinational place with Caucs, Asians and Middle Eastern girls. It had obviously changed hands and now was predominately an Asian joint and none of the girls appealed. The chickenhead here was a young Chinese guy with a bad haircut and attitude to match. His definition of proper customer service seemed to be ‘Don’t waste my fucking time!”

Finally, we agreed on Cherry Blossoms and agreed that no matter what we would not walk.

(My other mate Edd “Kookie” Byrnes has a rigid ‘no walk’ policy. He figures a punt is a punt and you go with what destiny throws at you. I still remember the night in Croydon when he went upstairs with a fat, ugly Greek MILF who didn’t look a day under 70 and complained to me later “She wasn’t my type!”)

You can’t miss Cherry Blossoms as it is painted a bright pink. We walked up the stairs and discovered the walls etc. inside were all painted pink as well. (I forgot and needed my sunglasses as the colour motif was a bit too ‘busy’ for me.)

Well, the line-up came out and as usual the intros were at lightning speed. A quick glance and then a series of dumbo names like Apple and Sunny and Dunny etc. (I think Farquar wound up with Pancho Villa or some such name.)

I took little roly-poly Cathy. She was early 20’s and carrying a number of extra kilos, but I like a bit of bbw sometimes.

My semi-losing streak continues!

THE GOOD NEWS:

The place is clean.
The shower is clean.
There was plenty of hot water.
They had a soap dispenser.
I came twice in the session.

THE BAD NEWS:

She insisted I was 71 years old!
She was a starfish.
It was me that got me over the line twice and it had little to do with her.
The joint, while clean, was rundown, tired and worn-out.
I was happy to get out before my time was up.
The waiting room was tiled by somebody who was less of a handyman than me.
The hot water burnt my dick as I underestimated the heat.

THE EVENT:

Into the room we went and I took a shower and she disappeared for 5 minutes. I am sure during that time she was adding me to her resume and probably noted: “Serviced Jack Seagal: Skills and tasks completed were fucking him and giving head.

When she returned she had a shower and you could have scrubbed down the USS Enterprise in the time she took. (It wasn’t time wasting, it was more like time trashing!) She then turned down the lights so low I felt I was being blindfolded and started psychologically to prepare for my last cigarette before the firing squad had its way. She had 60’s music playing on a little boom box and I suspect she thought it would create a real ambiance for me. Instead I found it irritating.

Anyway, her ‘I do list’ was a rather short one like the girls in this joints sister shop Kyoto on Commonwealth St. Surry Hills.

Kissing was out, so forget any fantasies you have about a GFE from this lady.

She did a nipple lick, two minutes of a cbj, one minute of cowgirl and after a minute in mish asked “You cum yet?” I guess she was worried, believing I was 71, that I would keel over and the cops would come in and blame her.

Well gents and ladies I came.

She then did a crook massage and I manoeuvred her into Spanish where I enjoyed fantasies involving every woman in under the sun except her to get me across the line. We parted, each in our own way, happy to see the back of each other.

I had another shower. (I do love those soap dispensers, although I scalded my prick when I turned on the hot water full throttle!)

I finished before Farquar and sat in another waiting room starring at a phony, pseudo-marble table where guys had stubbed out a number of cigarette butts while waiting for God knows what.

Farquar had a great time and even got Pancho Villa’s phone number.

Venue: 6/10 It was clean, but it needs to be gutted and worked over.
Cathy: 6/10 if you like chubby and 4/10 if you don’t
Service: 4/10 if you think I am 71 and 2/10 if you don’t.
Did we click? Yes, to the degree that we both heard the clicks of the clock counting down our time together.


I will not return!

Let me say that another way “I will not return”.