Do mongroids dream of electric chicas?
Well, I guess this is exactly why God created both chocolate and vanilla ice cream, and why Howard Johnson's was able to so successful expand on that concept by having 28 different flavors: everyone has their own taste.
Guiller and Alan 23 seemed to really like Mary, the tanned, buff, mature, 40-something chica who works here.
I, on the other hand, thought she was quite possibly the biggest mistake I've yet made in Argentina mongering.
First of all, I did not at all like her looks. If I hadn't specifically asked for Mary when I rang the buzzer, I would have taken the other chica who came down the elevator to get me at the front door. Given that I had specifically asked for Mary, however, it would have offended my innate sense of propriety to have changed when I saw her, and so I carried on.
She has way outsized silicon-enhanced tits...silicon enhanced lips...a tan that simply has to be store-bought...and dyed black hair (and in that dippy hair style that can look nice on a 19-year old but looks ridiculous on an older woman: long on the sides and back...bangs in the front). In short, she looked as if she had sprung fully-formed from one of Phillip K. Dick's dystopian visions of the future with artificial humans. A replicant pleasure model. Or at least a first attempt at one, and not a good attempt at that.
And then there was the noise. During the session, she went entirely too far overboard with her moans and whimpers and "queridos" and so forth. Way overboard. I really felt like slapping a piece of duct tape across her mouth. That would have stopped the noise machine [u]and[/u] I wouldn't have had to look at those lips. LOL!
I wish I could find some redeeming feature to write about the visit, but I can't. It was so bad that after half an hour of non-stop screwing in various positions (all of which, she wanted me to believe, were taking her to new orgasmic heights) I could not come. If fact, it was all I could do to stay hard. Finally I stopped and asked for a simple hand job, and that's how we finished.
But to add insult to injury...
I am not normally big on kissing these chicas, and I try to avoid it. With Mary's "lips" I couldn't even fathom it. But somehow she managed to slip her tongue halfway down my throat while she was nibbling on my ears. Damn the bad luck, because now in addition to paying the original 62 pesos (yes, she charged me 2 pesos for the condom), I had to pay 11.65 pesos for some Listerine at the nearby Farmacity afterwards. I walked around the block swilling and spitting, thinking of Mitch Hedberg jokes the entire time. (Hmmm...and now that I think about it, if I had slapped a piece of duct tape over her mouth, I could have avoided the moans...avoided looking at the lips...and avoided being kissed. Note to self: bring a roll of duct tape to future sessions.)
So all in all...
1.60 pesos - colectivo.
60.00 pesos - hour session.
2.00 pesos - condom.
[u]11.65[/u] pesos - Listerine.
75.25 pesos total.
Y para mi, no valió la pena.
The good news, I guess, is that I found a nice little cafe nearby. If you decide to go to this particular privado, and get there before your viagra kicks in, or want a beer afterwards while you ponder a future of artificial chicas, check out Cafe Parana. It's down the block from the privado, on the other side of Rivadavia and on the corner of Carabobo (what Boyaca turns into) and Ramón Faicón. It's a little place with a bit of color and character. Sort of like the Linea A Subte cars.
That's it lads. There are eight million tails in The Naked City...this has been one of them.
SL