Buenos Aires - incall

As far as I know, there are no incall apartments in Recoleta. The rent will be expensive, neighbors will be up in arms, the security guards are serious in all buildings.

Typically, the living room is suppose to act like a club, where you get get a drink in the evenings I think. Obviously, it's also a waiting room, and the place for lineups. Usually there are at least a few girls, and a few rooms for you to use. The price is at the lower end of the $100 to $300 range. Apartments near Recoleta can be decent, but pretty basic with small bathrooms. I don't recommend, especially for independent girls, who are not all likely to afford decent flats. But if you like, you can take them out.

Against online advice from US expats (high price), I visited this apartment on a Sunday. It was closed, while I thought I went to the wrong place. Brothels close on Sundays in Catholic countries? I went back in a few days, after unimpressed by other services.

The lift looked like a basket for 4. In my hotel, there were two lifts, one looked like an upright coffin for two, the other slightly better. I didn't see any escape routes, or ladders hanging outside of the buildings.

The manageress was young, meant business, spoke sufficient English except for some pauses looking for words. Then came the lineup. For the apartments that I visited, I decided to leave after the first girl appeared. This was different. The first two or three looked like models, and walked like models in bikini, lingerie and high heels. I think they are from Brazil too, this time more like Victoria Secret models.

Oh, I love lineups, but I almost forgot how it is. Haven't had a lineup in LA for years and not expecting one ever again. I love those pageant like lineup most. Six come out forming a row, come up to you one by one, bow down to shake hands and talk a little. Then another six, then another six ... This one you can say more tasteful. Each girl come into the living room in turns.

I wasn't prepared, or I wasn't prepared that the lineup was that good. My experience was that it only took two or three gorgeous girl to make a mess in my brain. I ended up picking the wrong girls. So in a rush I recalled my lessons - forget about their names, just number them from first to last, left to right if applicable. Whenever you see a new one, you have to make an immediate decision, split second if necessary, whether to pick this girl, or keep your last pick.

After the first few models with gorgeous bodies, I began to raise my expectations, to find a prettier face. All are in mid-twenties I think. Jessica was about 4th in the line. When I saw her face, I forget about the others. She is sweet and looked more Argentinean than Brazilian. Though I forgot to look at her body. She isn't bad, just girl next door compared to model bodies. See, lineups always mess up my mind.

But I wasn't disappointed, it couldn't be more right. Usually the number ones expect you to pick them. If you pick number two, they will be very happy, because every girl thinks that they should be number one. If you go on to number 3 or 4, their happiness go up exponentially. But this only apply to small establishments, where the girls are officially or subtly ranked according to their popularity.

After the last one left, I told the manageress I wanted number 4. It took her some counting to realize that I wanted Jessica. I told her I wanted extra service too. But she told me to negotiate with Jessica herself, not all girls do extras.

Jessica couldn't stop smiling. Perhaps it is her nature, but mostly it had to do with the underdog winning the lineup, and that she was very happy with me one way or the other. She kissed me like she was a puppy. Usually it's the other way round if they let me. She literally screwed me during oral without. Luckily I could take all that without exploding, because I was already over sexed.

After round one, I asked for complete service, the only term in Spanish I couldn't forget. She hesitated for a split second, fetched a condom, ripped it off, fingered it, and fingered herself. She was pretty, GFE, which all made me forget that I was paying, the risk of disease, the less than perfect apartment, that I was in somebody else's bed. I got up again in no time, and completed what I asked for.

We did have time for a drink and some talking in between and after rounds, with the help of my electronic translator. This time I helped her to use it. She understood that I was there for a week's trip. I got it from her, or not, that they welcome people to take out, most apartments do. I never thought of that. Incalls like that in most other countries don't venture into outcall, which become something else.

Sadly, I didn't tell her that I was on my way to the airport. I wasn't cheating her as I didn't need any more pesos left in my wallet, and I rewarded her well. I didn't want the disappointed look in her face. I wanted to leave her happy. If she never see me again, she will not remember me at all.

It's hard not to like the city. European tradition combined with the convenience and bustling of Asian cities. As for pleasure seekers, it would be heaven for Spanish speakers. If I were to pick again, I would pick places where I have the advantage of language, say London, or at least equal, where nobody speaks English or Spanish or Portuguese. But then again, it best to mix pleasure with something else, for the other 23 hours.

BTW, at the time, my 2nd choice will be Brazil, San Paulo rather than Rio, though probably both. I knew nothing about the airports.

ps Use airport taxis. The licensed taxi are plenty and reliable, but they may not go far, such as the airport. Their pretty new paints do not correlate with the old engines inside. I picked a random one on the streets to the airport. I wasn't worrying but the driver was, from the moment I got on broad. Half way through in the middle of nowhere, he abruptly exited the freeway, stopped, rushed out, opened the trunk, and I thought he was fetching a gun. It turned out that the taxi just needed a pitch stop, the overheat engine needed some cool water. Luckily the scare was over very quick. Or I would have already running for my life.