by KRISTIAN GRAVENOR

The strapping early-middle-aged man sauntering the streets with a gentle voice and disarming smile hasn’t always prioritized the challenge of getting more street bang for his buck. But after a breakup five years ago, William (names have been changed to protect the less-than-innocent) started cultivating his taste for the joys of inexpensive sexual bliss with women who prowl the streets just east of the bus terminus.

In that time he’s managed to get intimate with over 200 women and is happy to share his accumulated wisdom of the craft. “Hookers aren’t unionized. They will always try to get more,” says William while strolling in the early twilight on St-Hubert near Ontario. “So I can nickel-and-dime them, because their need for drugs is greater than my sex drive.”

The talkative working-class toiler says he broke more hearts in his youth than the average guy, a pattern that didn’t prepare him for his own romantic eviction. “I was devastated,” he says of being dumped. “After that, the first woman I got picked up by was at Thursday’s. She invited me for coffee and I spent the weekend. She was divorced and we had sex without a condom, and shortly after I felt a burning sensation. I got the two swabs down the dick,” he says. Penicillin cured the ailment, but he’d look to treat his lingering romantic disillusionment elsewhere.

“One day I was bicycling near the Rose Bowl when I ran across a girl who used to live in my area. She wanted $40 for a BJ and I only offered her $20, and she complied.” The two coupled in the great outdoors in full view of highway traffic. “It was amazing. I was intrigued.”

Buyer beware

William would write up the encounter in his meticulously maintained diary of sexual encounters with local prostitutes, a list that averages over 50 a year, information he happily shares on lurid Internet forums like canbest.com under the moniker Oliver Kloseoff. He also maintains a diary of the results of his regular testings for STDs.

“That way, if I ever caught something, I’d have a good idea of where I got it,” he says, noting that so far he’s been deemed clean. William’s cash-fuelled conquests also include many experiences in massage parlours, only some of which, he notes, offer sexual services.

“Before you hand over any money, make sure it’s clear that they’re going to massage all of you,” he says. One way to accomplish that and avoid spontaneous price markups is to blatantly “point to the front of your pants and ask, ‘Do you include this part too?’”

But lately, William has found better value among the street hookers and speaks of his conquests like a backpacker describing the beaches of Thailand. But some simply don’t pan out, including a recent encounter in which he agreed to supply a hooker with $20 for cocaine, to be deducted from later services.

“She had been awake for five days on a binge. At the hotel she took her clothes off. I was turned off by the scabs, bruising and needle marks. When she went in to shoot up, she came out all fucked up. I told her I’d stay with her for the hour to make sure she was okay but I didn’t want to fuck her. She was picking at the scabs and forcing her fingers in her ears. I said, ‘Be fair, give me some money back because we did nothing.’ She replied that it was her money now.”

Surprises good and bad

Other unlikely purveyors of poonani include certain hacks motoring through the city streets. “A taxi passed me and the guy rolled down the window and said, ‘The girl in the back thinks you’re cute.’ I get in and she asks if I want anything. I say, ‘A BJ would be great.’ The cab driver later turns around and says, ‘She gives great head, eh?’ I said, ‘Just drive!’ Some drivers will tell you hookers and drug dealers are their best customers, but they’ve got to make sure they pay up front or else the drivers get burnt.”

To make sure what looks like a hooker isn’t actually an undercover cop, William advises men to never directly ask for sex. If there’s any doubt, “Get her to touch you. If she does that, or lets you touch her, she’s not a cop.” Another part of his ritual includes urinating and rinsing before and after, whenever possible. For those not expecting surprises, be wary of transsexual hookers.

“They come out late at night and some are difficult to tell. I met one that looked like a good-looking girl, she has real boobs, but still beans and wiener in her pants.”

William enthusiastically speaks of the odd outdoor frolic in a neighbourhood backyard, and also raves about stress-free experiences, like the one he had with a 38-year-old German crackhead whom he met outside the Fun Spot bar. “We waited in the cold for the dealer to come. She let me feel her up and down, I quite enjoyed it. Then we went to a motel on St-André. It cost $20 for a room and I gave her $40.”

Bargain basement sex

“Never pay more than $20 for oral sex,” says William. “I had a young girl, 18 years old, tall with dark hair, who wanted to give me a BJ for $40. I told her I’d never pay more than $20. So she said ‘Fine.’ I said I wasn’t interested, but she begged me to start her day off for $10. You have to admit, at those prices, it’s tempting.”

But too good a bargain might lead to pangs of guilt. “One time last November, I felt bad that I had exploited a girl who had asked me for money for food. I said let’s go the hotel and I’ll give you my change. I gave her $20 and a chocolate bar in exchange for one of the best BJs I have ever gotten and awesome sex. I met her again in January and took her to a bar. I gave her $5 for the poker machine and told her to get off the street and collect welfare.

“I believe girls are lured into stripping because of the money, then they get into drugs as an excuse for being shy - then they get fucked up a bit and are farmed out to the clubs where touching is allowed, then to outside Montreal into stripclubs that offer prostitution - then end up on the street fucked up and on their way out of this world. My experience is that most of these girls were abused sexually - some suffer from mental disorders besides this - then the drugs are the cherry on the cake.”

William reserves his disgust for the insalubrious hotels on the circuit and the presence of underagers on the streets. “It breaks my heart when I see young girls on the street. Just tonight I a saw a knockout near Montcalm Park. She quoted me $80 full sex. She looked 15, a tall, beautiful girl. I almost felt like calling the cops but they don’t give a shit.”

Those seeking the pleasures of street hookers must couple a sense of adventure with a stomach for mayhem. “I met this hooker with the biggest tits I ever saw,” he says. “We got to her place and start having sex, then the doorbell rings. It’s the dealer. Then she goes and opens the bathroom door and her roommate is blowing a guy in there.” He then became increasingly frustrated over the chaos and lack of sex. “I decided to walk out with the drug dealer rather than do something stupid like punching the chick out, which crossed my mind. The only positive thing I can say about her was that she had no body odour - but her legs reminded me of a much older woman.”

William has no plans to end his adventures in the fleshy underbelly of the desperate city, which he says he prefers to non-cash-based monogamy. “With street whores you don’t have to feel to please them, so a lot of stress is off you, generally.” :