Posted by Farsider on April 16, 2001 at 13:57:51:
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(Note: I've changed the name of the primary chica in this story, out of respect for her privacy. The rest of the information here, including other girls' names, physical descriptions, and descriptions of events, is accurate.)
I arrived in San Diego on Saturday evening, 3/31/01. I would be there until the following Friday, due to a business conference that turned out to be extremely fortuitously located, geography-wise. Especially since I'm an East Coaster, and don't have many chances to get out that way. I had been to TJ twice before, but only Avenida Revolucion. It was while searching the net for information about TJ, immediately before the second trip, that I uncovered the BOT FAQ and the old Redsnake board. Unfortunately, circumstances dictated that I was unable to act on my new-found information during that trip. So I spent the next several months soaking up information, for I knew I'd be coming back to the area. In the weeks leading up to my departure, I began to develop an agenda for this trip. My time was limited, and my Spanish comprehension was almost nonexistent. I did pull out the old Spanish-American dictionary, and attempted to learn a few words. I was a also bit leery of my ability to get about safely in the Zona Norte, since street smarts are not my strong suit. So I decided that the main focus of my trip would be Adelitas. That would turn out to be a good choice. I also vowed to sample as much of the talent there as I could, compiled a mental list of chicas from the various boards, and hoped I would meet a few of the hotties that had been spoken so highly of. I had a fixed agenda, and decided to follow it through to the bitter end. How many newbies do this? It's not a good idea... but I'm getting ahead of myself here. It was very late when I got to my hotel in downtown SD, and I was pooped, so I went straight to bed.
You won't find a more wet-behind-the-ears gringo newbie than I was, so I'll describe my experience in getting to and from the Zona in detail, in hopes it will help some first-timers who are nervous. If I can do it, anyone can. But it would take me three trips south of the border to get up the nerve to enter Adelitas. Sunday was pretty much a lost day, since I had meetings for most of the afternoon and evening. I did have a few hours free in the late afternoon, though, so I hopped on the trolley and made the 45-minute trip to the border. I wanted to experience walking across the border (on previous visits I had taken the Mexicoach bus), check out the taxi situation, and then go back through customs. Walking across was a snap. The taxi drivers were aggressive, but I had been to TJ before and kind of expected that. The walk across the highway to get back to the border surprised me. I was expecting to see another pedestrian bridge, but I just followed the crowds between the cars and across the street. There was about a 30-minute wait to get through customs, and I began to worry about being late for my evening meeting. I made it back just in time. I told myself, so far, this is easy. Tomorrow, though, I needed to take it much further. I had only a few short days.
This day afforded me a lot of leisure time. I had both the afternoon and evening clear of any business-related responsibilities. The perfect day to jump into the Zona Norte scene with both feet. Well, maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration. Around 12:00 or so, I hopped onto the southbound trolley. I didn't realize until it was too late that I was on the Orange Line, not the Blue. I had to disembark, catch a trolley going back and get on the Blue trolley going south to San Ysidro. I lost about an hour. Luckily, I had purchased one of those three-day unlimited ride passes, and I would certainly get my money's worth out of it. That little slip-up did have a silver lining though, as I met two other folks on the trolley who were planning to hop a cab to downtown TJ. That allowed me to have company as I experienced my first ride in a TJ taxi. We each chipped in 2 bucks for the fare. He dropped us off at the corner of 7th and Revolucion... kind of far from where I wanted to be, but I had been in this part of town before. One step at a time. I walked up and down Av. Revolucion. Azteca Massage, which I had seen before, caught my eye. This might be the perfect, low-pressure place to get my feet wet. I turned left on 2nd, and headed for the door. But a policeman was standing in the doorway, and I chickened out. I whiled away a few more minutes, but he was still there. A cab was parked nearby. I lost my nerve at this point, waved to the driver and got in. I made sure to sit up front, and said, "Five dollars, border?" and he nodded. That was easy, and I at least now felt comfortable with the taxis. On the trolley, I vowed to return that evening... and head straight for AB. I got something to eat, chilled out in my hotel room for a while and showered. It was around 8:00 when I got back on the trolley. Darkness had fallen, and as I neared the border, I became tense with anticipation. I disembarked at the San Ysidro station. This was it. One sound that I will always associate with TJ is those clanging metal gates at the pedestrian border crossing. I clanged my way through the first gate, then the second, and a horde of taxi drivers pounced on me. I passed right by the aggressive ones, knowing there were plenty more behind them. That's a habit that stayed with me for the entire trip. I was very nervous about asking to go to Adelitas; I wondered what the cab driver would think. But one cabbie solved the problem for me. He came up to me and said, "Adelita? You go to Adelita?" I guess it's pretty obvious what most unaccompanied gringos who are there after dark are up to. All I had to do was nod to the cabbie. I said, "Cinco?" and he nodded back. I was psyched; I had actually used a Spanish word. My heart began to beat faster as he raced through the downtown area. I saw the street sign that said "Calle Coahuila", the driver made a left turn and I knew that the Zona was in front of me, just a few blocks ahead. I had studied my map beforehand, and I knew the general layout of the Zona. As we went through the intersection with Constitucion, I looked to my right and saw the Chicago Club. And straight ahead, on the left, was the big white sign with the red letters that said, "Adelita Bar". Just like it looks in the pictures. My fear of entering Adelitas was more than overcome by my fear of lingering in the streets. I paid the cabbie and got out, looking around nervously. I sprinted across the street, parted the curtains at the entrance, and... drum roll... entered the bar. I moved far enough away from the entrance so that I wouldn't be blocking it, then looked around and took everything in. And believe me, it was a lot to take in. The mental image that I had of AB was actually pretty close to correct, although it's bigger than I expected it to be. Dark, smoky, and very noisy. It was Monday night, but it was anything but slow. (I'll qualify that by saying that I still have never been there on a Friday or Saturday) There were women everywhere, and on that night, they outnumbered the men. I turned left, and went up the step near the bar. I looked some more. It took me all of 5 seconds to figure out where Hottie Central was. I headed toward the bar on the left, and ordered a Coke... I'm a diehard teetotaler. I started to head toward the back. Near the men's room, I passed close to a chica who smiled at me, tickled my palm with her long fingernails and ran her hand up the inside of my arm. I smiled back at her, but continued on my way. Not yet. All in good time. Passing through the back, another girl pinched my butt and said, "Hola." I smiled, kept going and said under my breath, in a gross understatement, "I could learn to like this place." I wandered back around to the front, then repeated the process. I recalled the Disneyland and kid-in-a-candy-store analogies I had read about on the boards, and thought, how true. Beautiful women everywhere, and all for the taking. What a concept! I decided to park it for a while. I went over to the bar on the left side as you enter, and sat down on one of the stools. I swung around and faced the dance floor. A tall, blond chica was doing a strip show on the stage. The Latin music was loud, but not terribly so. I just watched. Ten minutes passed, then twenty. I felt more and more at ease in this foreign world. At first, the atmosphere at AB is an outright assault on the senses. But in a surprisingly short amount of time, it reaches out, envelops you, and makes you a part of it. Once you've been there, you never forget that feeling. I grew impatient. I moved to get up, planning to find my prey for the evening and stalk it. But I never made it out of my seat. Fate, in the form of a diminutive Latina princess, was standing before me. Take away her high heels, and she was five feet or less in height. She was wearing a light green mini-dress. She had a medium complexion; her facial features were almost Asian, but the rest of her was distinctly Latina. She had her long, light brown hair pulled back tightly in a ponytail. Her face was exquisite; with her hair pulled back like that, it was almost heart-shaped. She had on bright red lipstick, but otherwise used a minimal amount of makeup. She was the kind of girl who, if you saw her from a distance, might not make you take a second look. But viewed close up, face to face, her attractiveness captured my undivided attention. A natural beauty. She smiled, and said to me, "I've been waiting for YOU, bay-bee." My first reaction was to wonder, "Does she say that to all the guys?" But something clicked, and right away, I liked her. Before I knew it, we were sitting in a booth, snuggling up and sipping drinks. She clinked her glass against mine. I asked her name. "Elisa," she replied. She asked my name. I spelled her name back to her to make sure I got it right, and she nodded in affirmation. Her English was, overall, pretty good. She could communicate pretty well with words and short sentences. She understood most of what I said. My tendency to be overly wordy at times, though, sometimes presented a problem. She asked why I was in San Diego; I told her it was a business trip. She asked what kind of work I do; I tried to explain it, but had no luck in doing so. "No comprende," she told me. "Your business is my business." She giggled. She would repeat that phrase several times over the next few days. I became enraptured with her effervescent, fun-loving, happy personality. Sitting next to me in the booth, she never kept still, always swaying to the music. With her body rubbing up against mine like that, it was impossible not to become aroused. Her hands began to wander; so did mine. She began to rub the inner part of my thigh, and then touched my package. "Mucho grande," she said. True or not, it was still nice to hear. In this case, flattery would get her everywhere. It didn't take long for the inevitable to happen. She brought it up first. "Do you want to go upstairs?" she said. Is the Pope Catholic? Since she knew the way, I followed her out the front door. Walking behind her up the stairs, I was able to get a good view of her firm, tiny body. She was just as beautiful in the bright light as she was downstairs. Within 30 seconds of entering the room, my face was buried between her breasts. We finished undressing, and she had me lie down on the bed, and laid down on top of me in a 69 position. "Mmmmmmmm... mucho grande, mucho grande," she said, and proceeded to deliver just about the best oral sex I've ever received. We switched to intercourse, three positions; the pace she maintained was incredible. Back to oral, during which I climaxed. I almost never climax during oral. I laid back on the bed, covered with sweat, totally spent, and utterly satisfied. Wow! We washed up, and started to get dressed. Up to this point, money had never been mentioned. I was the one who brought it up. "How much?" I asked. She threw me a curve ball. "I don't know," she replied. She waited several seconds, and giggled at my confusion. I stuttered, not knowing quite what to say. She clarified it a bit. "How much am I worth?" she said with a flirtatious, mischievous grin. Uh-oh, I thought. There is no right answer to that question. I reached into my money belt and handed her a certain amount. She said, "Mmmmmm, that's not bad, I guess," with that same grin on her face. I admit it; I'm a softie. I handed her ten dollars more. In my opinion, she's worth it, and that's all that matters. We held hands as we walked downstairs and back into the bar. She pinched my cheek, smacked her lips at me and walked off. I was spent, but I wanted to stay longer and just observe. I watched the strip show taking place on the center dance floor. The place was more crowded than before; it was about 11:00 or so. A hand touched my shoulder, and I looked up. It was Elisa, once again, smiling at me. I beckoned her to sit down next to me. Over drinks, we chatted a bit. She asked me how long I'd be in San Diego. I said until Friday. "Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday... that's three more times?" she said with a devilish smile. Well, I had an agenda, and that included sampling some different talent. At that point, I didn't want to encourage her, despite the outstanding session we had just had. "Hmmmmm... maybe," I said, vaguely. Her eyes got brighter. "More than three?" she said. I laughed. "Welll...," I stammered, "we'll have to see." She snuggled up and held her face about two inches from mine. "One more tonight? You like what I did before?" she whispered. Oh my. Not only was I physically spent, I didn't have the money on me for another session and I needed to get back to the border in time to make the last trolley. So I told her, "I have to catch the trolley, and besides, you took away all my energy earlier." That was the blessed truth. She giggled, and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I melted, and buried my face into her neck. She told me, "I understand. Get some rest. Be ready for me tomorrow." I kissed her on the forehead, and said goodnight. Truly a sweet girl. But I held on to the hope that I wouldn't run into her the following night, at least not right away. I left AB, and hailed a cab. The driver quoted me $5 to the border. At the taxi stand, he switched gears and demanded $6. I gave it to him, but I was visibly annoyed as I got out of the cab. I don't like to be scammed. Going through customs, the immigration officer gave me the once-over. After looking at my ID, he peered suspiciously over his glasses at me. "Are you bringing anything back?" he said. I told him, "No." I wanted to add, "But I left a couple of ounces of semen behind."
Tuesday was another day where I had my work-related responsibilities packed into the morning. I decided on one afternoon AB run and one evening run, with a trip back to San Diego in between. So, I would be putting my trolley pass to good use again today. It was about 2:00 p.m. when I arrived at AB. By now, the cab rides were second nature to me. I handed the driver $5 and said "gracias." We had not even discussed the fare. I was learning how much easier it was to pay $5 on the inbound trip. Into the bar I went, and I couldn't see a thing for a minute. It took that long, going from light to dark, for my eyes to adjust. As soon as the black fog cleared, I stepped up to the bar and ordered my usual Coke. I sat on the bar stool and watched. I had thought beforehand that I would find afternoons at AB more to my liking than evenings, since I'm not particularly fond of crowds. But this afternoon was something of a disappointment. The girls were not as attractive as the ones I had seen the night before. Besides that, the male/female ratio seemed to be less favorable. So much for afternoons. For the rest of the week, I would stick to evenings. I decided to just sit still, and let my girl, whoever she was, come to me. I guess I am just of passive nature; somehow, being chosen, with the uncertainty that comes with it, appeals more to me than choosing. It boosts the ego, and if I didn't find the girl attractive, I could always politely decline. And it's certainly a different sensation to have women walk right up to you and proposition you. My lay-back-and-wait attitude made me an easy mark for the aggressive, outgoing, chatty chicas. There was an open booth, so I moved there and sat down. That did it. Right away, a fairly dark-skinned, long-haired girl occupied the seat next to me. Her name was Marisol. She had great big brown eyes and her skin was soft as a baby's. I tried to talk to her, but found out that she could hardly speak any English. She did, however, know how to say, "Let's go to the room." I didn't have that much time, so I went for it. What followed was a strange session. We got undressed. Then, she asked me to come over to the sink where she proceeded to wash my genitals by hand. She nearly got me to ejaculate right there in the sink, and in retrospect, that might not have been a bad thing. I've posted a chica report for Marisol, so I'll quickly summarize what happened and not duplicate the info. She gave me a fantastic massage. That was followed by mediocre, uninspired and sometimes downright painful sex. I finally told her to stop and asked her to resume massaging, and she gladly did that. I did spend about 45 minutes with her in the room. We did not have sex to completion, but the massage was so good, I didn't mind. It generally takes me about 24 hours to fully recharge my battery, and Elisa had rung my bell pretty thoroughly the previous night. I'm closing in on 40, so I guess I might be a good candidate for Vitamin V. But I'm leery of some of the side effects, since I have high cholesterol. I don't need for family and friends to hear about my demise in a Tijuana bordello. If I could do better than one session a day, I'd be happy. And there was tonight. After I said goodbye to Marisol, I didn't stick around. I needed to get back to San Diego. Work beckoned, but it was a short meeting. At 8:00 or so, I was back on the southbound trolley. It was just before 9 when I parted the curtains at AB. Within 30 seconds of my entrance, someone ran up to me and threw her arms around me. It was Elisa, and it sure looked like she was lying in wait for me. It was an outright ambush. Tonight, I had wanted variety, but here she was, and I found her irresistible. I got her a drink, but neither one of us downed very much. With her once again rubbing her hands all over my thighs, I was a goner. "Upstairs? Now?" she grinned. We headed up, leaving our glasses more than half full. She delivered the same outstanding performance up there, making it twice in 24 hours. She's a consistent winner. I gave her a massage afterwards; she enjoyed it very much. As did I. We chatted a bit, and shared a few laughs, before the knock came and they threw us out. Down in the bar, we squeezed hands, then she went one way and I went the other. I sat up by the bar on the left, on one of the stools, and watched the floor show. I was mesmerized by a blonde dancer with waist-length hair who climbed all the way up the pole and practically suspended herself from the rafters. What a show. From my perch, I looked over at Hottie Central. That section of the bar has its own subculture. Gorgeous, expressionless women, standing still, with their feet together, or maybe swaying back and forth. Lined up like a group of badly placed, dressed-up bowling pins. Then... out of the corner of my eye, I saw Elisa going upstairs with someone else. My reaction was not one of jealousy, but I did find it somewhat disconcerting. Nothing can prepare you for the sight of a girl you've hit it off with and been wildly intimate with, going off to work her magic on another. But in this place, it was par for the course. It was her job. The traditional rules of society didn't apply. It's tough to get used to, but I did the best I could. And it works both ways. A fairly tall, light-brown-haired chica with very large, obviously fake breasts appeared in front of me. She had a very pretty face, but a few extra pounds. Her name was Victoria. She didn't bother to ask me for a drink, she wanted to go to the room. "Please?" she asked coyly. There was absolutely no way I was up to another session yet. I was honest with her. "I just finished," I told her. "I can make you come again," she replied. "Maybe next time, okay?" I said. I just shook my head and grinned. What a place! I walked down along the bar to the passageway leading to the men's room, where yet another girl was staring seductively in my direction. A short chica with light skin and long blonde hair, wearing a black dress with ruffled sleeves. She had this girl-next-door look that I like. I asked her name, and she said, "Jasmine." She, too, then proceeded to describe what magic she could work on me. I listened to her sales pitch, then told her, "Maybe later." In her case, I meant it; I found her attractive, and put her on my mental "watch" list. I stood there for a while and kind of lost track of the time as I watched the floor show. Someone pressed against me, and that body felt familiar. It was Elisa. I resisted the urge to say, "Finished already?" I was, however, glad to see her, although the fact that she had just came down from a session made it hard for me to be very affectionate with her. She asked me to buy her a drink, and we sat down. "How's business?" she asked with that bubbly attitude that just cast a spell over me. The word "business" had come to be sort of a double entendre between us. She finished her drink, and asked me to buy her another. That made it three for the night, at least. I hadn't really been paying attention to what she'd been drinking, but when the waiter came, I listened. "Agua mineral," she said. Good. I hadn't been paying to get her drunk. It was getting late, almost time for me to leave. I had to catch the last northbound trolley. She asked for one more drink, quickly. At this point, I kind of thought I was being milked for drink tickets, so I politely declined. But she was fine with it. "Maņana?" she said. I replied, "Maņana. Buenos noches." She said, "I'll be waiting for you." Somehow, I knew she would be, for better or worse. On the way out, I passed Jasmine, who was standing near the DJ stand. She grabbed my hand and said, "Going so soon?" Shoot. I really did have to go, for I was cutting it close, time-wise. I told her that I would be back the following night and would look for her. As I parted the drapes and walked out, I hoped that the next night, I would see Jasmine before I saw Elisa.
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