Buenos Aires 2

The East Coast has it all, a lot closer to the Caribbeans, Brazil, Buenos Aires and Europe. We only have Hawaii. Flying to BA takes as long as direct flights to the Far East, roughly the same as Europe. At the last minute, I hate to pay a lot for direct flights to BA, which I thought was closer in the same America. I flew via Miami instead.

Arriving at BA is a casual affair. Quite a number of people transit to neighboring countries, leaving about a bus load of passengers going through custom, easily handled by a single officer in a small area. You only notice that the airport is quite big and modern when you leave. I think a few planes set off together to US when I returned.

It's simplest to get cash at the ATM if you know where it is. After going through custom, you will see the big company providing both airport taxi and bus with English speaking staffs. The bus still drop you off at your hotel doors in turn, but there is a time table.

My hotel is Ulises Recoleta, before it turned into a Boutique hotel. Recoleta is the most expensive residential area in Argentina, like Beverly Hills or Manhattan, but a lot smaller. Small like Asia, that you can walk in and out of the neighborhood. It's just as densely populated as Asia, with mostly tall buildings, but with the occasional historical buildings.

I think this is my room in the new boutique disguise. Before it was more like La Quinta or Ramada, which are decent no-fancy motels. You can see all the space there is, except for the small bathroom.

I called my agent to see which girl she managed to book. Not Libia, whom I later think must be a bait. She is real alright, but she's also too popular because of the recommendations of the local American expats, or more appropriately, semi-retired Americans living cheap. If you don't have connections, you don't easily get your turn. And if you are seen as a nobody, newbie, loose canon, expecting too much, you will not have the chance to tell the truth.

Atina wasn't coming either. Maybe she wasn't keen on doing one hour as she had overnight rates. But it would be a waste of time if we couldn't get along. A short introduction first would be ideal.

So I would be waiting for Abril, my third choice. The front desk called me up to say that I have a visitor. She had to go through ID checks in order to get in. I was surprised when I opened the door. Instead of this, a spinner, I got something like this:

My Abril is not as big as in the picture, but similarly voluptuous. She is not model material, but she is tall and has long legs. I didn't remember if she was even blond, but she had medium to short hair. She was pleasant looking and may be a little prettier. However, cosmetics, along with any other imports, are luxury goods in Argentina. Most girls look a bit plain. It's very different from the plain look in USA, where you could spend a lot on cosmetics to hide the flaws. There was no sex in her clothes either. She could go to her day job, to school and commute in that.

It's so ridiculously different that I showed her my printed picture of her from the Internet, laughing at her. She tried to ignore me, kept her calm, remained courteous, walked past me and stayed deep inside the room, sitting on the bed.

Every time, I find it uneasy to turn down a girl. And this is what my local Spanish speaking agent can do for me, can I do any better? Between she and me, we can only communicate with a few English words. The only thing to do was to start stripping and get on with it.

There was something subtly not right about her, which I couldn't point my finger at then. Later I realized that she had an orange tan, very orange, orange on pale skin. If in CA I would think she was on some cheap wipe on tan. But in BA that would be expensive too. Maybe she really had the perfect tan that girls would kill for. That was the only resemblance of her and her less orange, more tan, Internet pictures.

My great disappointment was that she had two big flat flaps on her chest. It wasn't ugly at all, but just needed some time to get use to. There are plenty of imperfect real breasts in Asia and Europe, but they looked different. When talking about flat chested, it's usually in the form of A and sub A's, which can be quite perky as compared to two big flat tires. Of course in CA, you will never see that in an escort. The first thing she will do is to spend a few thousands or more to get an work-of-art-enhancement, flying to Asia for a better price if necessary.

Being accused of not-the-girl-in-the-picture, Abril had no illusions. She wasn't doing everything to keep me coming back. But she was very courteous, which had something to do with the fact that we didn't manage to break the ice. She wasn't GFE, and I didn't enter the John's trance. I wasn't that horny anyway. I booked someone for the afternoon because if I found the right girl, I could easily afford some company for the dinner, evening and might be more.

She got naked and got on the bed, lied causally at some random angle on the bed cover. I got on top. Did it. It was not at all gentle but the bed was still rather neat after I finally finished. Perhaps all action was vertical.

One good thing about S American girls is that, when they hear the magic word, they just turn over and spread a little, so I could enter from behind. She did have a nice firm ass.

By the way, she left me this card with her number on. There was my name and my room number too, which I still wondered why.