Gothenburg, Sweden

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Gothenburg is a little friendlier than Stockholm. It has a significant population of good-looking YP, so kindly supplied by the various universities here and a thriving modeling industry. All of the action centers on the “Avenue”, Kungsports Avenue that is. It runs right down the middle of the city and there is really no reason to ever waiver off from here. Every bar on “the Avenue” is packed from Wednesday through Saturday. There really is no other reason to be in this city on any other day, except for follow up. My personal favorite is Cosmopol. The female clientele is as fine as you will find in any country and dressed appropriately for the name. This place has been around forever and undoubtedly will continue to set the standard for excellence for Gothenburg’s raging nightlife for years to come.

I met a Swedish waitress out on the Avenue one night. I wound up spending a week in her, or rather in her bed. She would get up in the morning and make me breakfast before going to work. As she left she would day something like, “If you leave that bed today, while I’m gone, I will make Swedish meatballs out of your testicles.” No kidding, she would call during the day, and if I didn’t pick up the bedroom phone on the first ring, she would get furious and demand that I wait in bed for her to return. She’d come back in the late afternoon, after going to the grocery store and prepare dinner. She was a great cook by the way. Then she would feed me, and strengthened by the meal, we would head out to the Avenue where she treated. Back at her place later on, I treated.

For you really young men, head to the amusement park off of Orgryteveag in the late spring and summer time. The place is just packed with teenage girls on school trips or family vacations. If you can get them away from Mom, Dad or the chaperones, you may just get lucky and give her your own ride. The closest I ever came to doing something illegal was here. This little girl on a school trip with her fellow 8th graders boldly walked up to me and asked where I was from, since I was speaking English to one of the concession stand workers. I told her I was from New York, and her eyes lit up. Then she asked, if she could buy me a Coke, and if I could talk for a while. I said yes, and we had a nice conversation. The whole time I was thinking about all the fun I could have had growing up in this country, and how much I wished she was a few years older. By the way, I did the right thing and threw her back.

God Damn Factor 9.0

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