What a Long Strange Trip It's Been - Preface
Hello everyone, I've finally completed my trip report and I'm submitting it for you reading pleasure and hopefully, comments. It's quite large, due to the length of my stay, (a total of 6 days), but mainly because I wanted to beat drewwho for the longest report ever. No, actually I needed to set a lot of crap I was/am feeling down on paper, and unfortunately I'm about to drop it on all of you. As some of you may be aware, I'd had become a frequent peanut gallery member for most of the summer, but have been pretty much non-existent in the last month or two. Much of this was due to the time needed to write, proof and edit this somewhat massive report. But the real reason had to due more with my mindset. This state of mind will become more apparent as you read the report. As you read it, if you so chose, please keep in mind that most of it was written immediately upon my return, and even, as I say in the first section, in Dulles waiting for a connection flight. This trip report is not a normal slash and burn, I screwed x, y, and z kinda report. I brought back all kinds of emotional and philosophical baggage along with the usual load of dirty laundry and tourist trinkets. Unfortunately (or fortunately, I'm not sure which, and it may depend on your perspective) I have used the trip report to air much of my inner turmoil. Much of this trip report was written when these emotions were still quite raw, and it shows. However, even now I'm not prepared to go back and re-edit or delete out any of my comments, and although I might now express them differently or more temperately, the basic message, for me, rings as true now as it did on the days I initially wrote them. Some of these views may not prove popular with much of the audience, and I certainly have had a difficult time dealing with some of them myself. Some of them may be controversial, and others, particularly my feelings towards one girl, are personally embarrassing to air in front of an audience. But after long thought, I'm going to let the report stand as is, and let it speak for itself. I'll take my lumps from some of you, but I've got broad shoulders, and I'll live though it.

But a couple of points about this report, and in my own defense. As I sit here now, two months plus since my trip, and reread it, a small part of me still has trouble believing that all this actually occurred to me. But I have written this report as honestly and factually as possible. But what does that mean? Well, what it means that this report is written adhering as closely to the facts as I perceived them, as possible. I've have made some changes to the facts, particularly regarding one girl with whom I've developed a more than causal acquaintance with, but those instances are clearly noted in the text. The rest of the report is "fact based". But in all honesty, facts are very much in the eye of the beholder. So my emotional state of mind at the time these events occurred do very much influence my perception of these "facts". Would an outside observer have the same perception of the event? Maybe, maybe not, who's to say? So in that, I plead guilty of being human. But I have attempted to report as honestly as possible (to extent that it's painful in some places, as well as embarrassing) the unvarnished truth of what occurred, as well as my feelings, thoughts and reactions to these events. Let the chips fall were the may.

In closing, I like to take a moment and thank some of you guys for your friendship, help and advice. It is deeply appreciated and I hope someday that I can repay to favors. The friendship however I'll keep and cherish.

Farsider, my fellow eastcoaster, thanks for being there, and if I hadn't given you live updates from the scene, many of the details would not have made it into the report. Plus Farsider may be the only guy who understands how great it was to watch the Phillies beat the Braves. J

Ben, you've really gone out of your way for a total stranger. That luncheon and ride to the airport was far more important to me than just a meal and hop. Your observations and advice are invaluable, and I hope that someday we will have a chance to continue our discussions face to face.

Milkster, your postings on Las Plugas have not fallen on deaf ears. Thanks guy, your postings have provided me with the inspiration that led to one of the most memorable times of my life. As I type this, the memory of Lirica's face lighting up with excitement when I had suggested a night out there, comes flooding back. That alone is worth a thank you, but the memory of our time there is one that will stay with me for a long time, and never fails to bring a smile (no matter that it's bittersweet) to my face.

Drewwho, ok bro', my twin to a different mother, we will someday meet. And we will confuse the hell out of the chicas when we do. I have a feeling that if our original plans had gone as expected; my trip report would look far different, for better or worse. But one thing for sure, if we had been together, I would not now be the record holder for lengthy trip reports. J Need a copilot on a kamikaze run to TJ someday? Tickets to LV are going cheap.

Kendricks, if you read this, thanks again for your advice, both in the past and ongoing. It's great to have someone to bounce some of this shit off of.

In closing, thanks to all you guys, your comments, positive or negative are both wanted and appreciated. I love the opportunity to relive my experiences and of course in most social situations this subject is pretty much off-limits. Shooting the shit about them, while certainly not comparable to actually doing them, is the next best thing.

What a Long Strange Trip It's Been - Introduction
Well it's time to put my long planned and much anticipated trip to Tijuana in perspective. It's over, and it's been much more than I bargained for. What had been planned as a four-day excursion into hedonism has turned into something else entirely.

As I am writing this I am sitting in Dulles airport waiting for my connection flight. The weather here in Washington is pitch-perfect for my emotions: wet, cold and miserable. It also underscores the fact that my vacation, planned for months, delayed by madman, played out against a backdrop of universal sadness while our country prepares for a war that just a few weeks ago would have been inconceivable, is over. A three-hour layover, due to cancelled flights allows me to get a jump-start on this trip report. A trip report that I'm not sure I'll ever post. A report on a trip that has deeply effected me, and perhaps has changed some of my core values in a way that over time may change me, my life and the lives of those around me in ways that at this point are unknown. This report will be written, not for you my friend, but for me. I must put down on paper not only my experiences in Tijuana, but also my feelings. For me this is the first step in healing that I desperately need. So as much time will be invested in my personal thoughts and feelings as the actual facts that most of you care for. If you are not prepared to wade through some very personal angst, then you will find this report at least boring, probably self-serving, and most certainly a waste of your time. So please be forewarned. This report, while detailed and lengthy may ultimately be of little or no interest beyond that of a fellow traveler who has some serious, personal issues to work out. Normally being a very private person, I ask myself, as you may be asking now, why post so inner turmoil for the world to see? Well, like so much that has happened to me in TJ that has raised self-doubt, there are no easy answers to that. At this point the reasons for writing this are indeed private, but the issues involved are so complex, the emotions so raw, that the only way to attempt meaningful analysis is to write it down.

Never having been a diarist prior to my trips to TJ, I have since discovered the value and solace writing these reports can bring. It helps analysis my emotions and eventually soothes some of the rawness. At this point, I am in desperate need of both. This explanation however, begs the question. Yes, there's ample reason to write this all down, but are there valid reasons to post this? Ah, that is as a good point. Is this just an ego trip on my part? Yet another bit of exploitation of a group of people that you will see, have stirred the deepest of emotions in your writer? Perhaps, but like the rest of this report, the reasons are complex, and go far beyond simple ego. I want, no, need input from the only community where I can talk about my experiences, the only community that can possibly relate, be non-judgmental, and not turn away from me in disgust and brand me a pervert. That community is you, my friends. So feel free to read this report, call me as a sanctimonious, self-serving prig. You won't get a dissenting vote from me, because you will discover, this is one of the possible conclusions I am wrestling with. It's never pleasant to discover something distasteful about yourself, but to discover it while under these circumstances, where it's damn near impossible to make amends, explain, ask for understanding, make the hurt stop, is painful beyond belief. But that point is at the end of my story, and like all good diarists, I'm going to attempt, as much as possible, to keep this in chronological order.

So here I am, already one page of densely spaced handwritten notes deep into this report and I haven't even set the stage, let alone started the report. Well, I did warn you. Before we get started, some ground rules. This report will be based on actual events; it will be factual and as intellectually honest as I can make it in all areas except one. The name of one companion, the key player will be changed. Her description, while factual and intregel to the story, will be somewhat vague, and slightly modified so as to make it difficult if not impossible to be identified. This I do not out of malice toward my fellow travelers, God knows I've benefited from learning names and descriptions from you, my friends, but to salvage some measure of self-esteem. Self esteem that has taken several serious body blows. Also some details of sessions with girls whom I do use their "real" names will also be omitted due to the circumstances under which they were provided and may not be part of the normal services they provide, a true case of YMMV. Sometimes these girls are amazingly sympathetic and empathic. These details, while they appeal to the more prurient interests (something I'm normally wholeheartedly in favor of BTW), add nothing to the story. Yes, the story, there is a story buried in here somewhere. And I promise, at some point we'll get to it. But if you allow me to try your patience a little more, let me give you some background.

This trip would be my second journey to Tijuana, the first being this past June. The first, while brief, just two afternoons and one evening, was intensely satisfying, but in the end only whetting my appetite for Mexico and the delectable pleasures that Tijuana has to offer. Due to constraints at home the second and extended trip took much planning and preparation. I'll not attempt to obscure the fact that I'm in a committed relationship, one that has lasted 23 years. I also realize that for some of you, this fact will not put me in a sympathetic light. I'll not argue the point. Suffice it to say that, allow me to chose my words carefully here, "the renting for cash payment" of a fellow human being purely for gratification of sexual desires, did not come easily or quickly. And that's pretty much what we do my friends, we use people. Oh, we can gloss it over, make light of it, and rationalize it fifty ways from Sunday. But in the end, the bottom-line, that's what we are doing, using people. We give them more money than they can ever hope to earn in any more acceptable manner, and for that money we use their body and in many cases corrode their self image (admittedly the latter unintentionally). A devil's bargain at best. Oh, but they're willing participants you say? Well you're right, it's their decision, their choice. Young girls, from a basically third world country, away from home, many for the first time, with no friends other than their fellow sex workers, enticed by what for them is huge amounts of cash, surrounded by people whose livelihood depends on them selling themselves, employed by people who use them worse than we do, make this choice. Little did I realize that by the end of my trip after getting to know one of these girls on a level much deeper than that of prostitute/client that some very basic tenets of my belief system would be called into question. That a close examination of my behavior during this trip and even taking this trip itself would lead to some very painful self analysis. An analysis that is still on going and that could result in life decisions that go far beyond whether or not another trip to Tijuana is in my future. Sorry for the downer my friends, but I walked into Tijuana with the expectation of meeting willing sex partners that, while not eager to have sex with me because of my Adonis like good looks, were willing to have paid sex and perhaps some amount of pleasure. Sex between equals, where both parties were willing partners, both had done the cost/benefit analysis and both come out ahead. Did I find this? Yes, of course and how delicious it was when I did. But there's another side, a darker side, where it's not sex among equals, where it's one sided, where no matter what you do the equation doesn't balance. This side has left me shaken. It's not a situation I looked for obviously, and it's one that in the end I couldn't deal with, still can't deal with.

But let us get back to the story. My trip, after much planning and even conniving was scheduled for Sept 13 - 17. As many of you know, I was looking forward to this trip with great anticipation. I had managed, with great enjoyment, to make some friends on the boards and had arranged to meet a couple of them during my stay. I had carefully researched all of the possible delights that Tijuana had to offer, selecting some, rejecting others. Some of you are aware of this, since I had pestered you for weeks for more information, details, directions, and addresses. Ah, what a week was planned, a perfect sybaritic vacation, nothing but carnal pleasure after carnal pleasure. Money was stashed away, vitamin regimens instituted Spanish audio CD's purchased and memorized. All systems "go".

Then Sept 11 happened. Selfishly my first thoughts were not that thousands of people had perished, but what would happen to my trip. My fears were soon confirmed, my Thursday flight, first canceled, then rescheduled for Friday then cancelled again. A general air of nervousness at home warned me that my trip must be done quickly if it was going to be done at all. A quick assessment of plane schedules and the home front lead me to conclude that the following week, though not ideal, presented the best compromise of all the factors involved. At this point I also made the fateful decision to extend my vacation by an extra day, leaving for TJ on Wednesday, not Thursday
What a Long Strange Trip It's Been - Day 1

Wednesday finally arrived, a surrealistic scene, one in which at times I felt that I was the only one in the airport. But all thoughts other than Tijuana quickly faded into the background as I neared my destination. A conversation with a TJ local on the trolley set the stage as he was fully aware what a lone gringo with luggage on his way to Tijuana on vacation meant. A knowing grin, a slap on the back and a "Have fun amigo" as we departed the trolley. My adventure was about to begin. One strange thing that did happen to me was that my luggage was searched going into Mexico. But a quick taxi ride got me to the hotel with little time lost.

A word or two about my hotel, the Villa de Zaragosa. This is an excellent hotel; a great base of operations within walking distance of Adelita's during daylight hours and a $5 taxi ride at night. An Internet cafe next door and an excellent restaurant on the corner (Ricardo's) are also a plus. It also has a decent cafe/bar/restaurant of it's own. Safety deposit boxes are also available, and one can get at them 24 hours a day. Safe, secure and clean, I highly recommend it to any of you guys out there looking for a place to stay in Tijuana.

After checking in, unpacking, checking out the internet cafe, pharmacy, and a general walk around to get my bearings, (ok there's the Unicornio, there's the AM/PM, Las Pulgas, a couple of Massage Parlors, up there's The Mexico Lindo, there's Mondonna's - Disneyland for adults), it's time for my first trip to Adelitas. As luck would have it, I get the only cab driver that has never heard of Adleita's. I tell him where I want to go, and I end up back at the border. Ahhh, this is a nightmare, not an auspicious start to my vacation at all. After forcing him to consult with another driver (who found the whole thing hilarious once I explained it to him), some quick directions and finally a drop off at the door that was to become oh, so familiar. But first I thought, let's check out The Tropical.

The Tropical had been getting some very positive reviews right before my trip. That coupled with the fact that Franco, whom I had met on my previous visit, was now hawking for this bar seemed to make it worthwhile to at least check it out. My thoughts were that with his help, I could possibly land a sweet young thing right off the bus. I had just crossed the street when, for no reason I can figure out, I get stopped by the Police. No officer Friendly here, it's empty all your pockets, get patted down and answer twenty questions including why are you carrying such a large amount of cash stashed in so many places on your body? My naturally smart assed attitude was nowhere in evidence as I explained I was here just for the ladies, no drugs, and the cash was stashed to minimize any potential theft. After close examination of my driver's license and some more questions I was allowed to proceed. As relief flooded through me, as they turned to go I gave them couple of bucks for beers. Purely a relief reaction, one I was to be taken to task about from the manager of the Tropical who was ready to call the police on the police. (They can't do that to my customers). This incident kinda killed my appetite for the Tropical, and once I found out that Franco wasn't working that day, I scurried back to Adelitas (much to the chagrin of the manager of the Tropical).

Ah, Adelita's, just I had remembered it, loud and dark, with an instantly recognizable, if indefinable smell. (Sweat and hormones perhaps?). And something new, almost deserted. Having only seen this place on a weekend, seeing now, so slow, was quite a change. But a pleasant one when I did the math and saw that the chica count was quite good. Now I knew from past experience that the lower the gringo count, the more the sharks circled, so I was prepared to make my escape when standing at the bar I felt a gentle pressure on my back and a hand brush my arm. But when I turned around and saw the chica standing there I knew she was no shark and that even if she was I could, with the proper persuasion, be a willing victim. A very attractive, curly haired, short chica was standing there. Not a youngster, but a fantastic figure. Her big smile, tight sweater and sparkle in her eye, said to me that I could do far worse. Now I had made myself some promises before my trip, and one was that I wanted to question very carefully any potential session mate as to what my expectations were and what she was comfortable with providing. No callow rookie here. But another rule I had made for myself was now causing me some internal struggles that rule being "thou shall not make a hasty decision". And I hadn't even settled in and checked out the room. What to do? What to do? Well, at least I could be polite. So I smiled back and asked her what her name was. "Sophia" she replies, and then quickly adds that she also goes by the name Rebecca in Adelitas. (Why she answered with her real name, I'll never know.) BINGO, both of those names strike a familiar chord in my head, positive reviews had been posted for both of those names. Well, this is promising and well worth pursuing I think to my self. Sophia turns out to have some command of English, is 35 and very fit. Short, with medium length curly brown hair and medium light complexion with beautiful skin. Her figure is great, and it's obvious she works out. Great teeth with one small silver filling that is visible when she laughs, which is quite often. She prefers the tight jean, tight sweater look and with her body it suits her. I would estimate a C/D cup, either all-natural or really well done and sized right with an estimated 26 waist. Sophia is a professional and we quickly get down to negotiations. As we talk I discover that although she is an experienced pro, she does seem to enjoy her work and is sending vibes that a good time will be had by both of us. I decide to press on with my next set of rules, session expectations. I'd given careful thought as to what I wanted out of a session, and after a thoroughly enjoyable time with a chica named Nadia on my last trip I knew it was possible to get it if you were very lucky. For me, my ideal session would be considered the full GFE. Which would include mucho caressing, and open-mouthed besos. I'd also carefully reviewed to health issues and weighed them against my desires and had decided that if the chica and mood were right, daty with the possible use of a dental dam (I had a supply with me) was a strong possibility. All this ran through my mind as I braced myself for total rejection and went for it. To my amazement Sophia puts her hand on my check and smiles as she says, "Oh, you are a gentle one, yes?" And quickly agrees to a full hour session at a very reasonable price.

Once in the room, Sophia proved to be good to her word and more. Plenty of warm up necking, mutual caressing and I managed to bring her to orgasm orally. (This last point is a major turn-on for me. I just love to feel the shudders; muscle contractions and writhing at the same time hearing assorted gasps, moans and sighs. Although I'm not too keen on getting grabbed by my ears, but that's another story and has nothing to do with the story at hand, LOL). One curious thing was that although Sophia did do a covered BJ, she did not use a condom, instead she uses very thin sheets of plastic, perhaps even dental dams. This is one very savvy lady. She gets a throat irradiation from the coating on a condom, the spermicide I assume. I was to discover later that non-lubricated condoms are rare in Mexico, and Sophia really liked my supply of non-lubricated Trojans. Anyway, after a vigorous round of cowgirl and doggie we cuddled for a few minutes then Sophia gave me a massage. Since at this point in my vacation at least, I'm no connoisseur of massages I found it quite stimulating. There's something about a warm pussy in the middle of your back as your shoulders are rubbed that is quite satisfying.

As we lay together during our final cool off period, I fantasize about taking Sophia out on a date and an extended session at my hotel after. Again I figure, what the hell, go for it. And again, much to my surprise, Sophia not only agrees, she acts like I just asked her to the prom. What a wonderful feeling. After a shower we quickly agree to meet later that night. I however must return to my hotel to call in and maybe grab a bite to eat. (Eat light, I think, you have a hot date with a real babe tonight, and I can pretty much guarantee you're going to get lucky.)

As I leave Adelita's my luck is still holding, this time with the cab. A familiar face, Jose was the cabbie I struck up an acquaintance with my last trip out. We quickly re-establish acquaintance on the way back to the VdeZ.

Now after taking care of business, an hour nap and a quick email check, I was at loose ends to eleven. What to do? What to do? I know, it suddenly occurs to me, Let's go to the zona! What a great idea! Glad I thought of it! I forego my light dinner idea and head back. As an aside here, this would set the pattern that I would pretty much follow for my entire stay. Two trips to the zone a day, and many skipped meals. Eating (well food anyway LOL) was far down on my priority list and I would end up losing about 5 pounds during this vacation. I first for me.

Back at Adelitas I felt wonderful. King of the world stuff. A definite highlight of my trip. I've already had one great session, lined up an out-date with a very simpatico chica and had tons of eye candy to look at with no pressure on my part to find a suitable partner. And this was just day one of a 6-day exstranzavanza. Life does not get any better than this. After circling the room a couple of times, I discover that yes, life does get better. On the big screen TV is ESPN and a baseball game is on, my beloved Phillies are rallying and on their way to a major clubbing of the hated Braves. This is the best, a few cervesas, beautiful and willing chicas everywhere, musica and a Phillies rout. Now it's perfect.... But wait, it gets even better, it's so slow that the chicas come over, one at a time (or so it seems), introduce themselves, trying to get me interested in more than the game. After finding out that I'm going out with Sophia later, mock pout and leave, because "you want to watch the football game". LOL Apparently women in Mexico take the same interest in sports as women in the US. The fact that I'm even trying to watch the game seems to amuse them, and I see a small group of them talking among themselves, grinning and pointing at me. I find out later that the chica grapevine is in full swing, and the word was spreading that I was going out to the Cinema with Sophia. At this point one chica wanders over and introduces herself as a friend of Sophia. Viviana is a lovely late 20's early 30's girl, curly brown hair, pale skin, and great smile, with a thin but very nice figure. She shyly said that she knew I was busy that night, but to please keep her in mind since Sophia had said I was in town for several days. A major regret was that although I would see Viviana several more times, I never did get together with her. This was turning out to be amazing, I seemed to be plugged into Hottie Central and because it was a buyers market they were really putting on some extra effort. Next over was Monica, wearing a little 2-piece hot pants/ halter top, her little cutie pie face and big brown eyes a real turn-on. I would toy with the idea of going up with her several times in the next couple of days too. I even got a big smile and a small wave from what must be Candi, a beauty in a flowered dress, who was anchoring Hottie Central, one booth over from where I was sitting. I sit back and take stock, good game, good cervesas, good if loud musica, and a constant parade of beautiful chicas whose only desire in life is to wear me down to a nub. No, life doesn't get any better. Ahhh, but wait... yes it does, the strippers start their sets. Wow, what a lineup. Alexandra, Alexandra Dos, (who was very patriotic in a red, white and blue Stars and Stripes - it's nice to see patriotism in one so young, I think to myself), Ruby and Elise among the more notable. But my favorite is a young girl whose name I didn't catch at the time. A baby faced blonde in a very short black dress. She is just my type, not thin and all natural. The perfect combination of girl/woman, I watch her entire set in rapt fascination, even ignoring my precious Phillies. Eventually her set ends and so does the Phillies game. Both leaving me very happy but short a couple of hours till my date. To keep the GFE illusion alive I really didn't want to watch Sophia leave with other mongers. Since there was nothing on the TV of interest and my interest in the strippers took a nosedive after blondie left the stage, I decide it was a perfect opportunity to check out the Chicago club.

I had stopped in on the Chicago club on my previous visit to Tijuana. Much quieter and less crowded certainly, but the oft-stated chica quality difference had escaped me. This time it's much the same, yes there are some very nice looking ladies, but not a spectacular improvement over Adelitas. But a nice quiet drink would hit the spot. After ordering a Coke (must keep my wits about me, I had a date), I am approached by a stunning dark haired beauty in a red dress. Very petite, very thin and very pretty, Catalina is very friendly and immediately opens negotiations. Unfortunately, no besos, no daty, equals no Bill. Rules are rules and must be enforced. Catalina wanders off and a few minutes later this perky little thing approaches and strikes up a conversation. Her English is pretty good and has a nice smile. Very short, and a little chubby, long black hair in a ponytail, she introduces herself as Maggie. I find myself enjoying her flirting and invite her over to a quiet table for a drink. Maggie is looking better and better and this kicks off an internal debate on whether I want to go up again before my big date. My Texas Tommy is making some very convincing arguments as well as assuring me that he is up for a double performance. Maggie has past all the tests with flying colors and is offering a very reasonable price ($50). Having never been upstairs in this club, I figure now was a good a time as any, so up we go.

Maggie, to be charitable, looks a lot better with clothes on than off. Having 5 (yes 5) kids has not been kind to her body. Her baby face and nice legs had fooled me. Lots of flab around the middle and quite a few stretch marks. But she wins points for being very enthusiastic. Maggie's last nino had died suddenly at nine months and she was still lactating. She blows me away by proving this point by squeezing the nipple on one of her ample breasts and a few drops of milk appeared. She then offers the pair to me. How could I refuse? Berber a chichis, something not to be missed if offered. From chichis to daty to cowgirl to doggie, giggling all the way. Lots of fun for both of us, and the session ends on a high note with a shower, a solemn handshake and a goodbye kiss. Hey, Chicago's hotel even has a showerhead on its shower, what a concept.

Well that was a fun warm-up for my date. And I even have time for a beer back at Adelitas before my date. I'm becoming a strip show connoisseur, and although Alexandra, Alexandra Dos, Elise, and Ruby have great bodies, (particularly Elise - and love that smile), none have caught my attention like that blonde stripper earlier who unfortunately does not repeat her set. But it does pass the time, oh yes indeedy it does.

Finally that magical hour approaches and Sophia, who must have been keeping an eye on me, wanders over and tells me to sit tight, that she is going to go change into street clothes. To me she looks great as is, slacks and sweater top that puts her assets to advantage. But a woman's prerogative as they say. Sophia returns in about five minutes (on time, quite impressive) with another pair of jeans on and a marginally less revealing sweater top, and she looks great, really great. Ten dollar bar fine and off we go to the cinema.

The cinema, nothing like it in the USofA, stadium seating and instead the standard movie seats, leather love seats with a foldable armrest in the middle. Just perfect for dating. Sophia is very concerned that we find a film that I will enjoy, I explain that I couldn't care less what film we go watch, I just want to be with her and give her mock leer. She laughs and off we go to the film that is starting next. It's a Jet Li action flick, done up in subtitles "Kiss of the Dragon" I think. We cuddle and neck as the film unreels. To be honest, I have no idea as to the plot, the only thing about it I remember is that one of the main characters is a prostitute, depicted in the typical American manner as a sympathetic, abused, naive but plucky woman forced by circumstances to sell her body against her will. This makes me uncomfortable, given my partner, but Sophia is totally unfazed. Little did I realize how prophetic that subplot would turn out to be.

After the movie, it is far too late to eat, most places being closed. Sophia suggests with a leer of her own that we just return to my hotel for some fun. Never one to disagree with a lady with a good idea, we make our way back to the hotel. Once in the room I present Sophia with a little gift bag, the contents of which I have been carefully shopping for, for months. Now these gift bags seemed like a good idea at the time but now that it was time to present one, I did so with a little trepidation. They had originally been assembled with younger, less worldly chica type in mind, and I was not sure how this was going to play out with a chica of Sophia's level of sophistication. I needn't have worried. The bag was a great hit; each item closely examined and remarked over. The contents, pretty pathetic by American standards included a toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo, sponge, body gel, deodorant, mouthwash - all travel sizes, gum and mints. The piece de resistance was a small makeup bag and a small sample bottle of perfume. Sophia genuinely seemed to get a kick out of it, and I was rewarded with a deep and long passionate kiss. This of course led to more intimate fun and we start off with mutual rubdowns. I then introduce her to my supply of non-lubricated Trojans. Now with a clean floor that I didn't mind kneeling on, I could work on my oral skills, that for me is the optimum position. Between bouts we would lay on the bed and talk. I find out many things about the life of a chica, all of it fascinating. I discover that all chicas are responsible for 12 ficha drinks a day, a total that even a top tier chica may have trouble meeting on a slow day. Many chicas live upstairs not only for the convenience and cost savings, but because many of them want a very clear dividing line between what they do and who they are. I got the impression that their rooms have a minimum of personal items and most of their "real life" is at some other location where they go to for vacations and breaks. I also learned of the importance of the bond that forms between many of the girls that live upstairs, that they form tightly knitted groups between roommates and close neighbors. All in all I was totally absorbed by the brief glimpse Sophia provided of the other side of the fence. I also had my first experience with a chica's surprising knowledge of the Internet. One of the things I had promised my self was to take some pictures of any chicas that I could coax back to the hotel, if possible. When I asked Sophia for a picture she flatly refused. When I asked why, she gave me a lengthy and detailed explanation of the Internet, boards and the monger network, alone with the possible consequences to the chicas of posting photographs. I acted dumb (not difficult, years of experience here) and let the matter drop. As I look back on it now I was really stupid at this point. I did not make it clear that what I wanted was normal, fully clothed photos, not nude ones. I wonder if this would have made a difference in her attitude?

As the session wraps up Sophia calmly announces that what I really need is more chicas. (Couldn't agree more!!). She promises to introduce me to some of her closest friends that she is sure I'll like, being that now she knows exactly what kind of session I want. (Beel es muy compassionate!). Is she dumping me off? I don't think so, but who knows. My best guess is she has plans and can't do another out date and figures that she'd toss a little business to her amigas. I console myself with the thought that I must not be a total toad if she's going to recommend me to friends. And what a group of friends she is ticking off a mental list, two of which immediately catch my attention, Viviana and Candi. Sounds like I'm really hitting paydirt here. Any thoughts of rejection by Sophia are quickly dispelled if this is the quality of the stand-ins. As we are discussing the pros and cons various chicas, (this is really getting too weird) I decide to go for broke and ask about everybody's favorite, Tanya. Sophia pauses and contemplates her response. Yes, she knows Tanya, quite well in fact, and for years. But she's not sure that Tanya's right for me, with all the judiciousness of a woman selecting a new pair of shoes, you know, she says "Tanya is a hippie type" I really struggle not to laugh because that's exactly how she has been described by a fellow monger. And after a short reflection, I can see where to someone as ladylike as Sophia this may be a knock. But she continues after further reflection, "Si, Tanya es possible" But Candi, she adds quickly, is cleaner and nicer, then lets the subject drop. I put the last exchange down to the fact that Sophia and Candi are close friends. It's about 3:30 in the morning and Sophia must return to Adelita's (her roommate is waiting for her). Since I had been up for the last 27 hours at this point, I don't put up much of a fight, after all we did not agree on a toda noche anyway. She insists on walking down to the desk unescorted (Beel needs his sleep, he must be strong for manana) and eventually, after several more deep and very passionate goodbye kisses makes her exit.

Not bad for being in Tijuana less than 14 hours I think to myself as I drift off to sleep. Day one had turned out pretty fair, by my reckoning, 2 chicas, 3 sessions one of them extended, another at my hotel, a date at the movies, oh, and yeah, a Phillies win. To say nothing of some very nice eye candy stripping, being stopped by the police, and not smashing into a building on my way here. On the other hand, I've been up for 27 hours and haven't eaten since breakfast on the plane about 16 hours ago. Well nothing I could do about the latter now, but the former I could take care of, and fall into a deep sleep.

What a Long Strange Trip It's Been - Day 2
Surprisingly, or maybe not, considering my agenda, I awake early the next morning, at around 8:00am. Breakfast at the hotel, a cute little waitress introduces herself and wants to know all about me. Since she looks so young, I do not pursue the matter. (I find out later with the help of a fellow monger, who is much more adroit at these matters than myself, that she is 25 with several kids, and might have been worth further investigation). The morning is spent shopping, and checking e-mail, but by 1:00 however, the siren call is too seductive and it's back to the zone for me.

As I leave the cab I decide to try the Tropical again. This time I make it inside without incident. Still no Franco though, and I should have taken that as a sign and cut my loses and left then. But being a glutton for punishment, I spent the next hour or so drinking my 2fer beers and vainly attempting to make eye contact with either one of two very attractive, very young chicas sitting against the wall. I finally decide to take the bull by the horns and approach one then the other. I get shot down in flames by both of them; I fell like I'm back in high school. Shit, I don't need to come to Mexico to get shot down; I can stay home for that. I know what I need, a little Adelitas, where everybody may not know your name, but everybody knows why they're there. I scurry across the street with my tail between my legs.

Once inside, after allowing my eyes to adjust to the darkness, fending off a couple of sharks (either I'm getting better at this or their hearts just not in it today for some reason), I make my first circuit of the room. It's very quiet. No Sophia, no Candi, no Viviana, no Tanya. Which is ok upon reflection, I'm in the mood for something a bit younger. On my second circuit, I find just what I need, a sweet young thing sitting by herself by the men's Bano. Black dress, long wavy dark blonde hair, done up in a Veronica Lake sort of effect. (Very old fashioned for those of you who have no idea who Veronica Lake is). About 5 foot even, pale skin, b cup, with a really cute face I discover her name is Ruby (not the dancer Ruby however). Although she looks like she took a wrong turn for the Tropical and ended up at Adelita's she says she is 24. We quickly negotiate a normal session and upstairs we go.

Ruby starts out shyly, but once we warm up allows quite a bit of freedom. Daty gets her motor going and open-mouthed kissing soon follows. A nice warm girl, we finish with cowgirl and doggie. Her body is a real treat since it is even nicer without clothes than it was downstairs. Her breasts are firm and pert and her bush trimmed and the hair soft. A real fun time. A shower cleanup for both and it's back downstairs.

Ruby has been a good stand-in for a young Tropical beauty, but I want to find Sophia and see what she can come up with tonight (either one of her chica girlfriends or another Sophia session would be fine with me.) But she is still a no-show. I watch the strippers for a while. The young blonde beauty is back; I admire how perfectly her dyed blonde hair matches her skin coloration. Her skin is perfect, not a blemish on it. That body is perfect for me too, not hard dancers body, but more like an American cheerleader's with little baby fat. Her breasts are all natural, about a full c cup and shows no sag. I would put her measurements at about 35 27 37 if I had to guess. This time I catch the name of this baby-faced angel, Lirica. I watch her entire set, again in rapt fascination. Shortly thereafter though, its time to leave, gotta check in, dinner, and a return to find an evening partner.

After checking in, email scan, and a very enjoyable dinner at Ricardo's (down the street from the VdeZ), it's a return trip to Adelitas.

Now business has picked up some. Plus Hottie Corner is filled out rather nicely also. Sophia is at her normal spot and wants me to meet some of her friends. Being the perfect gentleman, how could I refuse? First up is Viviana, who greets me like old friends since we had met yesterday. Next to be introduced is Candi, yes the famous Candi. Candi certainly deserves her spot in Hottie Central, beautiful light skin, long black hair, and big brown bedroom eyes, dressed in a flowered sundress that shows her figure to full advantage. While not a kid, (she says 28, but a women's prerogative may be at work here), she is one fine chica. And after talking to her for a few moments, seems to possess a great personality. But Sophia is intent on introducing to one more of her amigas, Gabby. We walk over behind the far bar, and grab a booth. She shoos away the ever-present waiter (amazingly, I discover that some of the more prominent chicas have the ability to call the shots with the waiters, and if they care to, can create a zone of privacy that none of them will dare penetrate). She tells me to sit tight and leaves to find Gabby, returning shortly with another chica in tow. It's obvious from her actions that Sophia is anxious for me to hook up with Gabby, first she got us a booth, and now she's acting like a nervous matchmaker trying to set up two of her friends on a blind date. And not that I would mind, Gabby is a tall (for a Latina), big boned girl, not fat mind you, but not petite. The kind of girl the Midwest produces in abundance, you know, corn fed goodness type. The type of girl the expression, "fine figure of a lass" was made for. Long dark hair, light complexion and great legs compliment features that may not be Hottie Central caliber but would draw rave reviews in a work situation, say in an office. Plus Gabby has something fairly rare in Mexico, light colored eyes, either blue or gray. Overall Gabby would pass for Irish extraction rather than Latina. After a few minutes conversation between the three of us, Sophia suggests an extended session at my hotel with both of them. Your diarist, never the sharpest knife in the drawer is slow on the uptake, and doesn't realize what is being offered at first. After it sinks in, I'm a bit taken aback. Now I've daydreamed about such things, but when the rubber meets the road, I wonder if I'm up to such a performance particularly since I've been doing my best imitation of a buck in mating season since I've gotten here. Plus I suspect that such a tryst will be a real budget breaker. I hesitate just enough that Sophia gets the idea that I'm not interested and quickly moves on to plan "B" which is locking me in for an all-nighter with Gabby. Auntie Sophia is acting as a go between up to this point since Gabby's English is not at the same level as her's. But the more I see of Gabby, the better I like her. Sophia insists that Gabby is into the type of sessions I like (total GFE), Gabby just smiles and nods at this point, I think most of this is going over her head. After some brief negotiations between Gabby and I we agree on a Toda Noche starting at 3:00am. We sit and talk some more but eventually both Sophia and Gabby drift off to work and I'm left on my own.

Three am is very far away when you're sitting in a place like Adelitas. And soon, the inevitable happens and another chica catches my eye. She walks over and introduces herself as Norma. Norma has dark hair, about 5'2" or so, thin with a really nice rack. Since it's early a nice warm-up session is in order and quick agreement on price and services is reached.

Unfortunately it turns out that agreement was reached too quickly. Norma provides the worst session of my trip. Much too much regimentation (you can do this, but not that, and you can do it for x amount of time). She's a total waste of a shot. I finally get her in doggie and pound the shit out of her. At one point she has to brace herself against the bed's headboard. I hate being like this, but she wants to get done as soon as possible and I'll try to oblige. After a quick shower, it's back downstairs. BTW, I don't think Norma was appreciative of my efforts to shorten the session, since she was out the door before I even got dressed. LOL

For you guys that keep score on these things, yes Norma did ask for the money up front, but so did Ruby who gave a very nice session. No other girls in my entire trip asked for money upfront, although there were a couple of times I put it out early, and most of the time it was ignored until after the session. Also it was seldom counted. When I left Tijuana the basic honesty and integrity of most of the girls I had met again struck me. This is not profession renown for its ethics. Another curious thing I noticed while on the subject of money is that several of the girls went through a small, quick ritual with the money, something like a small prayer, and blessing, including kissing it.

Now it was a long wait for 3:00am and Gabby time. To break up the monotony, a stroll over to Chevelas for an hour or so provides almost no entertainment and even less excitement. Back to Adelitas to watch several strippers do their sets. Some really nice dancers, but my favorite, Lirica is not among them. A very long night indeed. Finally 3:00am rolls around and I circle the room for Gabby. Neither she nor Sophia is anywhere to be found. I've hit it off so well with Sophia I can't believe that she or her friend would blow me off, but as 4 then 5 approach it's obvious they did. At 5 I decide to leave but I need some kind of nightcap. A little girl named Flora is just the ticket.

Flora is a cute, if slightly chubby, little thing that looks she stepped out of high school. With a blue and white-stripped top on, she really looks like the girl next door. Flora tops out at about 5' 2" even in those ridiculous heels these girls wear. Straight medium length black hair and a medium complexion with big brown eyes she sports a set of natural b cups. She is quite anxious to go upstairs and spends a half-hour quietly following me around and positioning herself in my view. She really was quite charming when she is doing this, nor hard sell, just hopeful. A small wistful smile greets me every time our eyes meet and I'm struck again in the apparent disparity between chicas. The high powered more aggressive girls must get the lion share of business, while the wallflowers like Flora (no pun intended) may be lucky to snag one or two a night. Flora had opened negotiations earlier when I was still holding on to my dying hopes of finding Gabby. As it becomes increasingly apparent that Gabby was a no-show, Flora lowers her price and warns me that Adelitas closes at 6:00am. Every time Flora would screw up her courage to approach me she would lower her price by another $5. Finally at around 5:00, I give in and with a grateful smile on her part, embarrassment on mine, upstairs we go.

Upstairs, Flora proves to be very affectionate, but extremely shy. Having just delivered a Nino a couple of months ago, she's still lactating and won't allow any nipple sucking. (Save for my baby). Darn. But she likes to kiss and caress. After some coaxing daty is approved and after some initial reluctance, heartily endorsed. The normal covered bj and cowgirl is provided and we end up with some nice and slow doggie. After a long shower, she almost cries when I give her a tip but instead gives me a chaste kiss on the lips and looks me straight in the eyes and whispers "mucho gracias". She is so grateful it makes me feel uncomfortable, but there is no insincerity in her gesture. She has ended my day on a upnote, for which I'm very grateful.

A quick cab ride back to the VdeZ and some much-needed sleep wraps up day 2.
What a Long Strange Trip It's Been - Day 3 Part 1

Day 3 starts like the rest, except later since I sleep until 11:00am. A quick brunch, a check of my email, and some shopping are on my agenda before heading back to Adelitas.

It's ironic how life, once dealing you a winning hand, works so industrially to turn it against you. As I approached Adelitas that afternoon, little did I suspect that I was also approaching an emotional precipice and would soon be teetering on the edge of total disaster. My spirits were high; so far my vacation was working out better than I had dared hope. I chuckled to myself as I planned my trip report. And my only thoughts were of the potentially fabulous sessions that were yet to come. But things were about to change, and although I wouldn't now change many of the events that were about to happen, the carefree, "hump and move on" atmosphere was coming to a close. I had been living every adolescence's wet dream, beautiful women, far more beautiful than I could ever hope for in "real life" had been falling all over me and each other in an attempt to have sex. And although with a few, Sophia in particular, I've had more than a "slam, bam, thank you ma'am" relationship, most of the attention was focused on sex. Certainly with Sophia and to a lesser extent some of the other chicas, getting to know them lead me to believe that although money was their object, a good time was had as well as given. At this point I was yet to learn how important that was to me, how critical to my own well being, that I be able to rationalize what I was doing with the thought that sex among equals, where everybody goes in knowing what the score is, and comes out the other end at least feeling no worse than they came in and hopefully with a net gain is the objective. Look, I realize I'm no great catch either in the looks department or in the love making technique department. And I also realize that we are talking about paid professionals. But the act of sex is such a personal one, and for me at least, inexorably bound to the concept of lovemaking that purely exchanging money for sex with no emotional involvement, no thought of providing pleasure to my partner is a concept so totally alien that I find it distasteful. I've never needed help with masturbation and probably never will. And most certainly I never wanted to find someone in the zone that would end up effecting me in the manner that was about to happen. But all these musings lay in the future, but were quickly approaching.

It started out innocently enough, after entering the bar I allow my eyes to adjust then head back to what's becoming my normal hangout behind hottie central. The waiter Samuel, with whom I've struck up something of an acquaintance comes over and asks which is it, Pacifico or aqua mineral? "Pacifico" I order as I think to myself that I must have become something of a fixture in here. I had hopes of finding Sophia and finding out what had happened to Gabby last night (maybe some guilt sex, maybe with both?) but she's nowhere to be found. Time to take my first walk around and as I pass Candi I say Hi and get a smile and a pat on the hand as I pass. This girl is definitely a winner. But, maybe it's time to check for Franco again at The Tropical, he could probably point me in the right direction for some young rancherita. But as I approach the doorway for some reason I make a right instead of leaving. One circuit of the room I think, then across the street. Why I bother I'll never know, because from where I'm standing I can't even see anyone behind the upper bar. As I circle the bar I see one chica dressed very casually, sitting by herself, by the ladies room. She has her blonde head down, trying to work a loose thread out of her jeans. I'm almost past her before I realize it's the blonde dancer Lirica.

All by herself, not dressed for dancing, frankly not dressed for attracting any kind of attention, sitting in a corner as far from any activity as possible. Several thoughts run through my head simultaneously first and foremost is that even dressed like that she is one beautiful girl, second is that she must be waiting for someone or that she is here only to strip and does not go upstairs at all. This, I knew was quite common at other bars but I didn't remember any mentioning it about Adelitas, quite the opposite in fact. I really would like to talk to her, but I'm not anxious to have my head handed to me on a platter again as it was at the Tropical fiasco yesterday. I'm well past her by this point and have slowed down to a near stop. Frozen with indecision, the moment seems to stretch forever. Finally, my desire to even just talk to this girl wins out and overwhelms my fears and I reverse course and walk over to her. As I approach I realize that being suave and sophisticated in English has so far escaped me in my life, so what the Hell I'm I going to do in Espanol? But it's too late, my feet, that had not been part of this last exchange, had been busily at work and I'm now standing in front of this girl. In the mean time she had risen from her seat to get a better look at the competition, one of who had just started a set. My god, I hadn't realized how tall she was. In heels, she was almost as tall as I was 5' 8", reaching the bridge of my nose. She glances at me, gives me a small smile and a questioning gaze. Now that I see her close up, she is even more beautiful than I had thought, and young, I can see past the makeup and note that this girl has absolutely no need for it. Suave to the end, hey, suave being my middle name, I stammer out that I think she dances muy Buena. Man, I didn't even bother to look up the word of dance in Spanish, I think to myself, and add a quick little body shake with the word dance to get my point across. I wince to myself, thinking how stupid I must have just looked. Boy this is going really well. She smiles and seems surprised and pleased that I even know that she dances, pointing to herself and asks "me?" I nod and she gives a sweet little smile and says "gracias". Ok, I'm out of conversation gambits, I'm coming up dry here, I can either slink away or I can bull my way through this. She is still standing there, smiling sweetly, looking at me expectantly, but as the moment stretches out slightly puzzled. Man, what is wrong with me, I think to myself. I haven't been this ill at ease with a woman since before I got married, this is getting silly. I get my house in order and ask if I may buy her a drink. Fully expecting to get rejected, I'm already tensing my muscles to turn and leave before she even replies. "Si" I hear. Si? Si? I think to myself, did I hear Si? Doesn't si mean yes? And she is sitting down in the booth! And not only sitting down, but making room for me next to her. A sixteen-year-old sophomore who just got a date with the head senior cheerleader had nothing on me at that moment. There was something about this girl that drove all thoughts that she was a prostitute and I nothing more than a potential client right out of my head. It would not change in any way or at any point in our brief yet intense time together. Ah, but at this point I hadn't even discovered if she was even available for anything more than sightseeing. As I sit down next to her I'm totally puzzled by my sudden case of the jitters. Although I've not exactly a ladies man, I had no problems up to now talking to and carrying something resembling a conversation with a chica. As a matter of fact, I thoroughly enjoyed by conversations with the chicas and had been fascinated with their unique worldview. Again, I take a deep breath and start over, fortunately Lirica is very easy to talk to and although her knowledge of English is almost as limited as my Spanish but we quickly learn the joys of flipping through an English/Spanish dictionary. So we start with the basics, exchanging hometowns and elementary family background. I tell her again that I really think she dances well. She smiles and says thank you, but I could tell she was surprised by my sincerity. I press on, "Better than the others". Now she shakes her head, "No, they" waving towards the dance floor, "are much better". I tell her firmly that I prefer her, I've seen the others, and they are very nice, "pero, usted por yo, es mucho gusto". This gets a very positive response, I genuine smile, and even a laugh with a pat on the hand. She says most guys prefer big chichis and small waists and hips, pointing to her own body to make sure I understood. Looking, actually savoring her body, I return, "No, you are just about perfect, for me, very natural". This again evokes a very positive response, and really starts a change in our relationship, much more at ease, much more open. She continues that she only dances as a fill in, and then only because she has some experience. She is not part of the regular variety show, she is not considered that good. So it's only during the daytime that she's out there and has little opportunity to pick up much in way of tips. That's their mistake, I think to myself, and try to express the same sentiments to her. I'm not sure I make myself clear on this, since her response is a faraway gaze and a smile. The first drinks have come and gone, and I finally screw up the courage (somewhat anyway) to find out if she does more than dance. "Do you just dance?"; I ask after a pause in the conversation drags out for a minute. Much too subtle for her limited English, this goes right over her head. Well, it's either leave or blurt it out, so I say with much tribulation, "Do you go upstairs?" A smile of understanding crosses her face, and relief starts through me. As she starts to explain that yes, she lives upstairs, and sees that from my reaction, which must have been a very visible sigh, this is not what I meant. She pauses expectantly, waiting for me to try one more time. This time I say, "Will you go upstairs? and point up then at her, and finally at me. A long silent pause, as she looks at me and considers, and finally a slow thoughtful nod yes. Relief finally does flood through me. I explain that I find her very attractive (an understatement that borders on a bold-faced lie) and would really prefer a full hour session. She says ok, but it might cost extra for the room. I explain that won't be a problem and like a proud date, escort her out of the bar. As we are leaving I realize I hadn't even discussed any ground rules for the session, the thought never even occurred to me. If I get burned it's my fault. But off we go, me and the most beautiful girl in Tijuana my heart tells me. And off I go, taking the first of many steps to the edge of disaster.

Lirica shows her inexperience almost immediately when at the clerks desk, forgets that we are going for a full hour and then not realizing we should get two sets of towels. Then has to be told in what direction the room is. When we get to the room, it falls to me to close the blinds so as to prevent the room cleaner from getting a free show; suddenly I'm the old pro here. Once in the room Lirica slips off her shoes and looses about 4 inches. A little ill at ease she doesn't make a move to the bathroom or to undress. This is fine with me because I would like to start very slowly and carefully, and make this as special as possible for both of us. As she stands there I put my arms around her and chastely kiss her on the lips. She responds by tilting her head to me, but does not open her mouth. I continue kissing her, moving to her neck and ears. I can't help let a small moan escape, she is so beautiful and luscious, I use the tip of my tongue to trace a path from her throat to her ear, gently sucking on her earlobe Finally on my next pass over her mouth, she parts her lips slightly but does not open her teeth. Ah, some progress at least. As I run my hands down her body she finally starts to loosen up and puts her arms around my shoulders and starts to kiss back.

I slowly undress her and I discover that she is just as delectable as I had thought when I had first seen her. I get her down to her panties and invite her to the bed. She lays down, expecting me to jump right on her bones I guess because she seems surprised that I after undressing, lay down beside her and do not want an immediate bj. Instead I continue much on the same lines as before this time however working my way down her body. There is no doubt in my mind that I'll attempt daty, I'm just not sure if she'll allow it. I am encouraged when during a pause she hooks her thumbs into the waist of her panties, and with one smooth, fluid movement has them off. She slightly turns her hips away from me, in some embarrassment since she caught me looking at her nicely trimmed pussy. I continue to work my way down her body waiting for her to move away and say no. This event never happens. I slowly move her legs apart, rubbing the inside of her thighs with my hand and continue kissing , circling her pubic area, first kissing her lower stomach, then jumping to her inner thighs, until I reach my goal. I hear a slight gasp and an exhalation of breath and know I'm home free. Up to this point Lirica has been willing but reserved, a few minutes of continued foreplay in this area however and she looses much of her reserve. She gets quite moist and her breathing rate has increased and shallowed out, a sure sign of arousal. Fully opened-mouthed kisses greet me when I return from my southern excursion and she seems to be enjoying herself. I'm really pleased, because I know I'm enjoying myself. I pause at this point and ask "bien?" she pauses for a second (this is a Lirica trademark I will discover, she actually does consider her answers to questions she feels are serious), smiles and nods yes. I smile and continue on with my explorations. We work our way slowly through most of the standard positions, I can tell that Lirica is far less experienced in this than say Sophia the day before. This is not a knock on either girl since I had really enjoyed my time with Sophia. But it is evident that Sophia, not only had greater experience but also had that joyous "we are both going to have some fun here" attitude that really makes such an experience memorable and that this was missing with Lirica. And even though Lirica has lost much of her reserve, I can sense that she has not released herself fully. There's still a piece of her that's acting more like an observer and not joining in. I work very hard to try to break through this barrier, but in the end I realize I'm not entirely successful. But she certainly is able to hit all my buttons. This girl, with her youth, personality and beauty has made this very special in her own way. Although all acts are covered, and her techniques are not the best I was to experience in Tijuana, this girl from the start struck a cord deep within me that made sex something unique and precious. The hour flew by and the first knock came before we had finished. We did manage to close out the session before the second knock and even managed to take showers. While dressing I knew that I had to spend more time with this girl and start to explain that I have a hotel room at the VdeZ. She nods that she understands and then I ask if she would be willing to join me for dinner and some time at the hotel. Lirica pauses in dressing, considers and nods yes; she would like that also, and smiles softly. My heart sings and I take another step closer to the edge.

We return to the bar, I can't leave her. She seems content to share a booth with me and I order a round just to keep the waiters at bay. Lirica doesn't seem to be concerned about it but is grateful for the ficha. We sit and talk mostly silly inconsequential stuff but I do learn she loves music of all types, which I file away. Since the DJ for some reason is playing some Grateful Dead, I pick up the song a start singing. She picks up on the chorus and sings along with me. After a while I realize that I must return to my room to check in and she must make herself available to other clients, a concept that even at this point I'm having trouble with. With great reluctance I tell her I have to go soon and try to explain that I don't want her to feel she needs to stay with me, and that I know she has to circulate. I'm not entirely successful in explaining this now or in any point in our relationship, and looking back on it I wonder if she knew I was doing this with the reluctance I was, and not that I wanted to get rid of her. She squeezes my hand, and we agree to meet again at 11:00pm.

As I make my way back to the opposite corner of the bar I'm on top of the world. Lirica has provided a great session, and with the promise of even better things tonight, I decide to grab one more Pacifico before I leave. I need a little time to bask in the afterglow and I want to analyze what exactly has happened here. Another dance set starts and I decide to brave my way past Candi, whom I'm now convinced that from her position sees all and knows all, and get a booth near the dance floor. We have seem to hit it off the previous day when Sophia had introduced us and now every time I pass I get some kind of acknowledgment and usually some indication that she is aware of exactly what I've been up to. Candi let's me slide with just a grin and a wink, but as I approach an open booth by the dance floor I feel a tug on my arm and hear "I need a boyfriend".

"I need a boyfriend". Those are words I have been hoping to hear the entire trip. The opening line of one of Adelita's most popular chicas, the famous (and I was to discover, rightfully so), and beautiful (my opinion, but I'll fight to the death on it), and crazy (I don't think anyone will dispute this one), Tanya. Hope against hope as I turn, could I possibly be this lucky? Candi id'd, a great time with Sophia, Lirica on an outdate, and now Tanya? I finish the turn and do an assessment. Yup, small backpack, long black hair, au natural, basically dressed in street clothes (short black skirt and blouse with a tub top on underneath). Her descriptions, in my opinion do not do her justice. I find her very attractive, and while obviously not 18 any longer, she exudes a certain joy and good humor. Is she a nymphomaniac? I have no idea, I'm not even sure they exist, but Tanya certainly enjoys the company of males, and makes no secret of it. I laugh in joy myself, already convinced she is the real thing and ask her what her name is. As a fellow traveler had reported, it sounds more Toni than Tanya. But close enough, I wasn't going to make the same mistake he did and move on. As I grab her and drag her to a booth in the back, we are both laughing, me in my good luck, her, because I'm sure this is not normal behavior from a potential client, usually it's the chica that does the dragging. (Candi is now smirking). But this is Tanya, and I already feel that I know her.

After a quick drink order and some preliminary small talk, I'm laying in wait for her trademark question. And it doesn't take long either. "What is your sign baby?" Oh, the joy of it. I've been preparing to blow her away with this since planning for my trip. "You guess mine and I'll guess yours" I tell her with a grin that borders on outright laughter. Unsuspectingly, she runs through several guesses, all wrong until with some strong hints from me she get it correct. Now it's my turn. I hold her hand, peer into her eyes, look at her palm, silently consider for several heartbeats, finally look up at the ceiling and stroke my chin before making my pronouncement, "You are an....... Aquarius" I say with as much solemnity I can muster (which is rather difficult since I'm doing everything I can not to laugh). A moment never to be forgotten. Her eyes widen and her jaw drops. She looks like somebody just pole-axed her. Unfortunately I can no longer hold back my laughter, which blows it. With a twinkle in her eye she starts beating me about my head and shoulders, laughingly screeching "You knew, you knew" and "You can't fool Tanya". After several good whacks Tanya feels I have been punished enough and wraps her arms around me and deep kisses me. What a great moment. This proves to be an excellent ice breaker and Tanya and I spent some time just talking, explaining that a friend has told me all about how wonderful Tanya is. And she is, this girl is just plain fun to be with. Finally Tanya, with a wicked little grin on her face, slides into the corner of the booth and faces me. "Look baby, I forgot my panties today", she says as she hikes up her skirt. As if to prove I'm not seeing things, she grabs my hand and puts it on her pussy and says "See?" She then explains that she has just gotten back from vacation to a nude beach because she needed to tan her "pussy". She hates tan lines. As we talk it's becoming increasingly obvious that Tanya wants to go upstairs. (Big surprise). I tell her that I can't because I have just come down from another session. She is very interested in who I had a session with and even more interested to find out that I have an out-date for tonight. Boy, these chicas really do like to keep score on one another. We promise to meet the next day at noon, but Tanya's eyes are already sizing up the room, looking for her next potential client (lucky guy).

To be continued…….
What a Long Strange Trip It's Been - Day 3 Part 2

Time to take a break, go to the hotel, get showered and changed for my date. A quick call in and a check of my email (boy, its great to have the Internet Cafe next door) follows. I skip dinner and two hours after I left; it's time to return to Adelitas.

I had been given the mission of making contact with two chicas and delivering messages from fellow board members and friends. It was now time to concentrate on this issue. First I check in with Lirica, still manning her position, putting no effort in it and looking a little lonely for it. It strikes me again how disinterested she seems, obviously just putting her time in. But I want to make sure there is no mix-up with Lirica as there was with Gabby the night before. Ok, I'm more than a little paranoid also. To me Lirica now looks like a real find, and I half expect some other monger to come along and take her for the entire night. She seems a little confused, at first thinking that I didn't want to go out, then pleased that I still do, but thinking I wanted to leave now, I finally do get across that I'll be around and that I'm just checking in with her. (Como se diece "paranoid" in Espanol?) I guess I came off pretty much like an over-age puppy dog wagging his tail for attention. But I don't care, this girl is great and I'm really looking forward to some unrushed time alone with her away from all this crap. For all its wonderful diversions, Adelitas, after 3 days is starting to look a little tawdry, and Lirica does not seem to fit in here at all. Already I feel that I'm treading on slippery ground here, since my main objective with Lirica is beginning to look quite different than my objective just two nights ago with Sophia. With Sophia I just wanted to get my hands on that luscious body, and the fact that I was able to give the owner of that body some fun in return only made it better. With Lirica, I found myself wanting the body, most certainly, but already I wanted more, but what that more was, I had no idea.

I try to stay on the other side of the room as much as possible. I really don't want to see her go upstairs with anyone. I tell myself it's to help keep the illusion of total GFE alive. And I almost buy it. Anyway, I circulate much as I dare, asking and looking for the two MIA chicas. The quality and quantity of chicas increasingly impress me. There must be at least 50 - 60 of them. And they keep changing, every time I circle I see at least a half a dozen I hadn't seen on my previous sweep. I do get to see Sophia and really put a guilt trip on her. She is very apologetic; explaining that Gabby misunderstood my desires the previous night and went upstairs to bed early because it was so slow. She thought that when I had hesitated over the double header, I didn't want either of them for the night. I can't believe I'm having this conversation with such a beautiful woman. She thinks I didn't desire to have sex with her or her equally lovely friend. And to add another level of surrealism on top of it, not only is she not angry, she's apologetic because she misunderstood me. God, I love this place, even when you lose, you win. But she does explain that Gabby is gone for the weekend, some monger from the states comes down periodically and he and Gabby go away for the weekend. Lucky guy. I try not to show some measure of relief since I'm already set up with Lirica for the night. Just to stay in touch, I get Sophia's schedule for the weekend. I find that she doesn't work Sunday or Monday. She "has to let her pussy rest", she tells me with a laugh. My mind is still not able to get a firm grip on some of the more stark realities these girls deal with in such an off hand manner, and it must have shown on my face. Sophia grabs my arm, and earnestly looks at me and says, "No, really it's true", as if I didn't believe her. Then she does something so unexpected and touching that I now feel like a heel about since I didn't follow up on it. She gives me her room number, and tells me to call her if on Sunday I would like to get in touch with her or Gabby. Always slow on the uptake, I didn't realize that Sophia was offering the possibility of nonworking time together until much later, much too late to do anything about it. Sophia does ask what I'm up to tonight (another missed opportunity?), and I explain that I'm waiting for Lirica and we are going out after her shift. Since Lirica is an occasional dancer, Sophia knows her, but they are not friends. I really like Sophia, and I wish we could have spend more time together talking, but already my mind was on the other side of the room, and focused on someone else. So eventually, Sophia went back to work and I continued my fruitless search for the missing chicas. Such onerous duty, I meet chica after chica, but not the two I'm looking for. Every introduction falls into a pattern now, names exchanged, small chitchat, with varying degrees of success depending on my Spanish and their English, an offer, gently as possible turned aside with the explanation that I'm waiting for Lirica, and then some questions on the MIA chicas with a brief explanation of why (friends of friends, message to deliver, etc). All the chicas seem interested on my out-date, and instead of being pissed off because I won't go up or I'm wasting their time, they seem to loosen up and are more curious about me and the outdate than anything. Maybe because I'm explaining it with such obvious relish. Most want to stay and chat for a few seconds, each leaving with a pat or rub on the arm (or sometimes more intimate parts of my anatomy - God, have I said how much I love this place), and a smile. This is turning into quite a bit of fun. I just hope I'm not feeding the chica grapevine to the point it's going to embarrass Lirica. I must have told half the room that Lirica and I are going out. I make note of several faces/names for future reference, Monica and a tall, thin beauty named Faviola in particular. Ah, so many chicas, so little dick.

But as the evening grows so does my unease. I've tried to studiously avoid the corner were Lirica is sitting. But I can't help myself from occasionally, surreptitiously checking to see if she's still there. At every check, she is. Usually sitting by herself, looking very lonely and very vulnerable. By 9:00pm, I can't stand it any longer and go over to her and ask if she would consider leaving early. She brightens immediately and acquiesces. I ask her how much the bar fine would be. Now a really strange thing occurs. I have to explain to her the concept of a bar fine. I honestly don't think she had any experience with or knowledge of this concept. This went well beyond language barrier. But at this point, I really didn't care what is, and it turned out to be only $10. So I quickly escort her to my amigo Jose's cab and away we go to VdeZ.

Now I've done my research and had read that sometimes there's an issue with taking young ladies to the VdeZ at night. There are times when security will try to hassle you in hopes of getting a few bucks. In an attempt to forestall any questions I had registered for two, but had not had a problem on Wednesday night with Sophia. So after exiting the cab at VdeZ, I was not anticipating any problems at all. I must say, I was on cloud 9, my amigo Jose had treated us like royalty on the ride over, throwing out "senor"s and "right away"s and generally making quite an positive impression on Lirica as she cuddled in the crook of my arm during the ride over. So as we walked hand in hand down the VdeZ driveway to my room in the back section, I was very much in a "Bill Is In Rutting Season" mode - very protective, even slightly aggressive. Unfortunately so for some little twerp with a clipboard.

This guy hails us. I, suspecting nothing, say "Hola" and continue walking, unaware that he is about to attempt a shakedown. But hola is not enough; he closes at high speed, looking very official. He barks out, "Who are you, and what room?" OK, a rude Mexican, a first for me, but that's not going to ruin my weekend. I explain who I am and tell him my room number; I'm even smiling at this point. Now some people are better than others at reading body language and sizing up a situation, and others are just downright bad at it. This guy was a member of the latter group, but was about to get a lesson on just how valuable a skill this can be. Because the next words out of his mouth was a big mistake. With a throw-away gesture and a smirk he indicates Lirica and says "And this one?" Bad move, very bad move. I'm starting to get a little pissed, no; I am a whole lot pissed. I do not like his attitude one little bit. Lirica is obviously frightened, her eyes get large and face blushing, evident even in the gloom, and she starts to back away and make hand gestures as if she'll just leave. This asshole's demeanor and hand gesture were perfectly translatable, even if his words weren't. Now I'm forty-eight years old, raised in an environment where no one insults a lady you are escorting. Normally I'm a very easygoing kinda guy, one who will go out of his way to avoid conflict. A part of me is watching this occur as if from the outside, and is shocked at the level of emotion this guy has inadvertently tapped into. Things just start kicking in automatically. No one is going to insult this girl like that. I close, getting into his face, making sure I have his complete and undivided attention. I want him to see, see very clearly, my face, and see that the jolly fat guy is not there anymore. "My wife" I say, eyes boring holes into his head, "Her name is Elaina, not 'this one' ". He puts his clipboard between us as if it's a shield. "What is her name?" he says, smirk fading, taken off guard by my response. I tell him again, "Elaina" and add "I've registered for two". Now one of us is just not getting it, because we are having a real failure to communicate here. "No" he says, "I need her to tell me". Ok, this is starting to spiral out of hand, I take another step forward, and I'm really in his face now. I nearly hiss "I'm telling you, do you understand that?" He backs off a step, holds the clipboard up as if it is responsible for this whole thing. The smirk is gone now; this is not going as he had hoped. But I give him credit, he rallies and tries one more time, "Well we must check her against my list", waving his clipboard. "Yes" I reply, "Check her against your list". Without even glancing at his 'list', he says, a bit more weakly, "That is your wife?". His knowledge that this was an obvious lie battling with his growing perception that I was going to continue to raise the ante on this. "That is what I said", saying her name loudly, and bark "Let's go to the office, now, and see about this" closing in on him again. He is now in full retreat, another step back, a sickly grin on his face and a "No, no senor, that is not at all necessary, please have a good evening. I'm very sorry to have disturbed you", a quick look at Lirica, "both". And with that he fades as quickly as he can back into the shadows.

I've just won a total victory over a bully. And in front of Lirica. In point of fact, she is the only reason I had risked such a confrontation. If this would have been Wednesday night with Sophia, I would have slipped the guy a couple of bucks, which is all he wanted, and been done with it. But with Lirica, it was more, much more; I had to defend her honor. That poor bugger didn't know that at the same time he was walking over to Lirica and I, he was also walking into my own little personal minefield. And I had just taken a couple of more steps closer to the edge myself.

After getting to the room, we almost immediately leave again for dinner. As we leave I tell Lirica, "If there's any problem remember your name....". She giggles and cuts me off, "Yes, Elaina". We have a very nice quiet meal down the corner at Ricardo's. She helps me with the menu and tries to explain in English what every line item is. She tries very hard to find out what I like and dislike, and then commands the waiter to bring me the dish she thinks I'll like the most. We continue to talk about our lives over the meal and this continues as we return to the hotel. This time, we do not have any problems, and even get a nod and a "Bueno Noches" form the guard in the guard shack. Lirica has been impressed by the restaurant and is even more impressed by the comparative luxury of the room. We sit at the small table in the room, just comfortably chatting for quite awhile. Finally I present her with the second gift bag I had prepared. To say that she was thrilled would be an understatement. You might have thought I was spending hundreds of dollars on these things. But every item had to be taken out and looked at, each eliciting some favorable comment. By the time she had finished she was close to tears, I don't think she had received too many gifts in her life. I'm struck on just how different this girl's life would be if she would have been born a bare five miles north of where we were sitting. This girl, so beautiful, so bright, would fit right in on any college campus in the States, yet here she is letting fat old mongers sweat over her body. The damage being done, while not extensive at this point, is there if looked for. My mind keeps shying away form these thoughts however, because no matter how you cut it, I'm one of these sweaty old mongers, standing in line for my piece of this girl.

She immediately claims the bathroom to try out some of the items, but in about five minutes comes out, embarrassed, the poor girl couldn't figure out how to turn on the shower. A quick lesson and she's merrily doing the things that women do in the bath that take so long and drive men crazy the world over. The sight of her emerging from the bath is one that will stay with me a long time. Just the thought of it tightens my throat. Demurely wrapped in a towel, all traces of makeup washed away, with a contented smile she asks if she can borrow my comb to comb out her hair. All very domestic, and very optimistic on her part that I even had a comb, since my usage of such implements has been greatly curtailed in the last few years. I do and I just watch her for sometime combing her hair out at the mirror. She finds my fascination puzzling, wanting to know what I find so interesting, there are no words that can even start express what I was feeling at that moment, and certainly none that I would tell her. I retreat to the shower myself. When I return from my much briefer toiletry, she is in bed and watching TV. I join her and find much to my joy; she has ditched the towel, and decided that clean sheets against her naked body suits her just fine. It certainly suits me. We cuddle and watch some of that goofy Spanish channel television.

God, the next couple of hours are glorious. I explore every inch of her body, at a very leisurely pace until I can't stand it any longer and enter her. She has responded and is quite wet, but I feel she is holding back, a reserve I can't penetrate. I ask if there's anything I can do special that she particularly likes, she shakes her head no, and indicates that I'm doing fine. But I know that although her body has responded, she is not giving herself over to the moment. This is disappointing in that I really get off when my partner does also. But this is only one small dark blemish on an otherwise wonderful, and one of the most satisfying sexual experiences of my life. We drift off to sleep entwined like two kittens in a basket.

So ends day three of my vacation.
What a Long Strange Trip It's Been - Day 4 Part 1

Day 4 starts early for me, I awake at about 7:00am with my arm around Lirica, her head resting on my chest, face upturned toward mine. Fast asleep, her lips slightly parted, she is totally unaware of the effect she is having on me. Her natural beauty is breathtaking, without makeup, and at rest, the harshness of her lifestyle is taking on her psyche is washed away from her face, leaving a little girl, rose bud lips, perfect unblemished skin, and long curled eyelashes. I want to hold her like this forever. I spend the next hour gently stroking her hair as she sleeps. But I know it can't last, that soon she will wake, soon we will part. My heart is breaking. I've known this girl for a total of 24 hours, less actually, and the thought of never seeing her again is causing me great pain and deep sadness. Another step is taken towards the edge.

As the room brightens due to sunlight entering the crack in the drapes, Lirica stirs, and slowly wakes. She is momentarily disoriented and then a soft smile crosses her face as she awakes fully. Stretching like a cat, she makes her way to the bathroom, a lot less self conscious now than last night, now just slinging the towel over her shoulder. After my turn at the bano we spend some more time playing in bed, but my age and previous 3 days of activities have taken a toll, and heavy petting is about all I'm ready for. God, I wish I could have back some of the shots I've used on Thursday I think to myself. But Lirica seems more than content with touching, caressing and licking.

We eventually decide that breakfast is next on the agenda, so after dressing we grab our dictionary and its back to Ricardo's for some fuel. We exchange a surprising amount of information, handing each other the dictionary as needed. I find Lirica a totally charming companion, no airs, no fronts. She tells her story matter of factly, without histrionics, without any thought given to playing to her audience, or looking for sympathy. Most of what follows is only stated when asked, none is volunteered for any ulterior motives. Her life while it may be typical (and in some ways better than average) for Mexico, really gets to me. The following is some background information; culled from several conversations over the couple days we are together. Lirica was born and raised in central Mexico in what I guess would pass for lower middle class environment. At 17, after completing formal schooling she starts dancing professionally in a local strip club. She quickly discovers that just dancing, and then lapdancing does not generate the levels of income she had hoped. Making the decision to turn tricks is not an easy one, but by this time Lirica has a child and must support her pretty much on her own. The father of her daughter is long gone, I didn't have the heart to ask if the child is the result of a romantic relationship or not. She left her home state to come to Tijuana on the advice of a friend who has since left herself. She knew what she was getting into; she makes no attempt to sugar coat it. Before arriving in Tijuana, when working as a stripper, and lap dancer at home she was making no more than $16 a session. As she tells her story, it's increasingly apparent she hates what's she's doing and takes no pleasure from any of her sexual encounters at all. It hangs out there unsaid but unmistakable that some of these guys (mostly locals) could be rather abusive. I want to try to get a feel for self-torture she is putting her self through. So I offhandedly ask her about the previous day, how many customers did she deal with. She, for once, doesn't have to pause long, "just one" she says, smiling holding up one finger. "Besides me?" I ask. "No" she returns shaking her head, "Just you" and smiles. I'm at first surprised, then after thinking about it for a few seconds, I'm less so, Lirica does nothing to attract customers. I had noticed that yesterday, and other than stripping on a "fill-in, as needed basis", she pretty much goes out of her way to make herself as inconspicuous as possible. It turns out that Lirica is the exact opposite of the high volume chicas, doing nothing to attract attention, never seeking out customers, and dressing down. She makes very little compared to many of her co-workers, going upstairs on average less than a half a dozen times in a week, and picking up a few bucks stripping. She also has a hard time making ficha totals, and changed the topic at this point; not wanting to discuss this aspect of her job, leaving me to wonder what she was leaving unsaid. Her resignation of her situation, coupled with her obvious dislike of it, was now impossible to ignore. I wondered how long it would be before it would change her irrevocably. Upon reflection, I wish I had never pursued this line of inquiry, because her frank and matter of fact answers have haunted me since. My heart can't take anymore and I quickly change the topic. But it is one that I'll find I can't leave alone, and will return to over the next couple of days, time after time, picking at it like a scab.

Further conversations on this topic only makes matters worse for me. This girl has already at 20 paid a very heavy emotional price in life, although she does not realize it, and would be puzzled if I told her so. This child/woman has achieved orgasm a grand total of once in her life and due to her profession finds that the most positive thing about sex is that it's over quickly. Masturbation is foreign to her, and my attempts to explain it are met with denial. When I attempt to explain that sex and lovemaking can be two very different things and that time, while not a necessary component of the former, is definitely a big part of the latter meets with a more positive response. She smiles and nods sagely then proceeds to knock me for a loop by saying yes, she saw something of that when with me. Her one orgasm was at the hands of an older guy before she came to Tijuana, perhaps a customer because when I asked if she would see him again when she returned home she said perhaps, but probably not since he was married. My horror and pain at her lack of pleasure form the act of sex was evident on my face when we talked, and she tried to reassure me that it was her fault, that she was "frio", cold. This of course provides no comfort for me. I would strive with only limited success, to let her, and in turn myself, get some greater measure of pleasure from our encounters.

But as I learn these details, it's like being lashed by a whip. What had been a great source of pleasure with Sophia, that of finding common ground and friendship, is turning into agony with Lirica. I see myself as just another fat old gringo sweating over the body of this girl. Some kind of emotional vampire, sucking the life out of her. Much too close to rape for my liking. Yet I'm irresistibly drawn to her in a sexual sense. My value system regarding prostitution/client relationships is taking one body blow after another. I not sure how much more of this I can take; yet I cannot separate myself from this girl. I want to protect her / fuck her both. I want to protect her from the likes of me, at the same time I want to make love to her, and free those inner feelings that I know are buried inside of her. For although she may not have experienced an orgasm last night, I am knowledgeable enough about the female anatomy to know that during our long and slow love making last night her body had responded to my ministrations. But above all, I would like to see her truly happy.

As we continue our breakfast, Lirica shyly asks what I'm going to do the rest of the day. This is of course the same question I have been asking myself, I want to spend more time with Lirica, hell, part of me wants to spend all my time with her. But for my mental health I know that's a real bad idea. So I'm really torn, my vacation is supposed to be about lessening internal tensions, not ratcheting them up. The best thing I can do is find someone like Sophia and get back to some good clean sex. Leave this girl alone; continuing this is dangerous well past the point of sanity. Lirica was waiting, now it was my turn to pause and seriously consider my response. "Well", I start out; "this is my only vacation like this for a very long time, perhaps ever". I pause, I can't let her go like this, but I need to get some perspective. "I want to spend more time with you. But I also want to spend some more time at Adelitas", I say, watching very carefully for her reaction. She should play poker, her face gives nothing away, and she just nods, slowly. I think to myself, this is crazy, my very confused feelings are mine, not hers, she has not indicated any emotional connection to me at all, so get a grip. And of course, all that was true, Lirica has been a kind and affectionate companion, but that is all, and any emotions out there on the table were mine, not hers, and I had to deal with them, not her, for better or worse. But can I deal with them and still see more of this girl? I don't know, but I have to find out. And I want to find others, in hopes that this will give me some perspective if not solace for the inevitable ending this situation was going to have. "So", I start out, "I would like to see you again tonight, if you want". Lirica smiles and nods yes. My heart takes off, a dark cloud has lifted and I can't help but add, and mentally kick myself as soon as I do, "But I want to see others at Adelitas, but I don't want you to feel bad if I do, so……. If you say so I won't". I can't believe I said that, part of me is saying, but I'm totally earnest, I don't want to hurt this girl. The observer in me, relishing the role of devil's advocate, is saying, what's to hurt?, her income?, remember in which direction the feelings are flowing. Lirica, perhaps unaware of my internal struggles, again mulls this over. Is she considering the possibility of being hurt, or is she just trying to figure out possible alternative meanings from my mangled Spanish/English attempts to communicate? But she looks me in the eye, reaches for my hand and says, she understood vacation, and that it would be ok if that's what I wanted. We had gotten very serious in our conversation, and we both knew it. We both pull back and lighten the conversation. After some smalltalk, Lirica asks, again shyly, through lowered eyes, looking at me through those long and gorgeous eyelashes, what I wanted to do tonight. Even the outside observer in me could detect the fact that she was looking forward to tonight. I say "anything you want", expecting her to jump in with something she would really like. But I had forgotten, her life in Tijuana pretty much centered on one place and one activity, when I realize this, that I had unknowingly put her on the spot, unconsciously confronted her with it, my heart took another shot. She looks wistfully past me, smiled and shrugs saying "I don't really know".

Now as I had said earlier, I had done extensive homework for my trip. Tijuana became an object of study. It became an obsession that any high school geography teacher would commend in a student. Unfortunately while my studies had been intensive, they had also been of a fairly narrow focus. Ask me the names and locations of massage parlors, strip joints or zona bars and I could answer and give a short dissertation on the relative merits of each. Somehow, none of these seemed appropriate to the situation at hand. I had already been to the movies, and had a great time, but I wanted something special, something we would both remember. Then I remembered a place a fellow board member has written about on numerous occasions. One where he always has a good time, had live music, and is very popular with the locals, Las Pulgas. So I suggest an evening of musica (which I had already discovered she loves) at Las Pulgas. Her face lights up, I had scored a direct hit. She knows of Las Pulgas, and may have been there once with a girlfriend. I'm not sure on this last point, she's so excited she's moving too fast for me to follow, but I can see her obvious enjoyment and I don't want to stop her flow. She is literally bouncing up and down and chattering about the different types of music that was featured in the various venues at the club. She has to work, but her shift is done at 11:00pm, she assures me that Las Pulgas is just getting warmed up at that time. We agree that we would meet at her usual spot. That out of the way, I'm embarrassed but forced to bring up the topic of how much she wants for a Saturday night Toda Noche. I explain that my funds were not expansive, and needed to know before tonight. She considers for what for her is briefly, (for me it stretched endlessly), then shocks the daylights out of me by quoting a price that is exactly half of last night's cost (which I'm given to understand was very low to begin with). She looks at me, then says quietly, "is that too much?" taking my non-responsiveness as a negative reaction. I assure her that this is within my budget and we continue with breakfast. She keeps returning to the topic of our planned date, so I know I don't have to worry about being stood up tonight.

Eventually meal finished, it's time for Lirica to return to Adelita's. I offer to get her a cab, but she suggests we walk down Revolution and she would show me how to get to the zone quickly and safely. Just slightly nervous, (not sure how bad the neighborhood will get), she assures me it will be fine. We leave the restaurant and walk over to Rev and start towards the zone. The trip turns out to be perfectly safe, but has several moments that cause me acute embarrassment and treasured memories. I had spent some time shopping on Rev, several of the shopkeepers memorizing my face (knowing a fish when they see one). Now they see me strolling down Rev, hand in hand with this twenty-year-old beauty. Mexican shopkeepers can be quite demonstrative when they want to be. Being used to a much more anonymous existence, I was totally unprepared for their hoots, whistles, catcalls, pats on the back, congratulations, loudly voiced appraisal of my taste (all positive) and general levity at the sight of us. Sensing my embarrassment (perhaps turning beet red gave me away) only increases their glee. Calls of "Barbie" and "Ay you lucky Cabron" greeted us for several blocks. My new found shopkeeper friends all wanted to meet the "wife?" wink, "girlfriend" and supply her with an appropriate and I'm sure expensive gift that I should give her. Aggressive, yes, but for most, particularly those I had spent some time (and money) with earlier, all good-natured. Through all of this uproar, Lirica was almost totally oblivious. Totally ignoring the more rude remarks, she walked by my side, pausing only when I paused, looking only at items I looked at.

And her walk, my god, her walk. Lirica had the walk of a dancer, or at least one who had some training in that area. Back ramrod straight, walking on the balls of her feet, chin high, hips swaying slightly, her legs in her tight jeans appearing to go on forever, slight smile on her lips, the occasional shake of her head to swing her hair out of her eyes, I could hardly blame the vendors and barkers for their attention. But my favorite part, by far, was the reaction of middle-aged gringo couples. Stares from both, the men with a smile and various degrees of envy, the women's reaction priceless, eyes narrowing, lips pursing, then invariably a quick check on their spouse (I assume to make sure a blonde hadn't popped out of the ground for them too). And through this all, Lirica, totally oblivious, holding my hand, glued to my side. I'm not sure my feet touched the sidewalk at all on the way back to the zone.

We part at the hotel entrance, her to her room to change, me to my normal corner in Adelita's for an aqua mineral and some think time. I just get settled in when Lirica pops into the bar, somewhat agitated. After some initial confusion it turns out she had left her gift bag at the hotel, worse, she had slipped her money into it. She was concerned that leaving it out on the bureau was far too tempting. I suggested we go back and retrieve it, but she is now clocked in and can't leave. I tell her I would be happy to pick it up for her, if she trusted me to bring it back, looking surprised at my question, she said of course it was ok, and away I went to find my amigo Jose. A quick round trip and back to Adelita's, this time carrying a pink gift bag with Tweety bird on its side, providing some early afternoon humor for the doorman (my purse I explain) and assorted waiters. A grateful Lirica retrieves the bag, saving further embarrassment, staying with me for about a half-hour, and it may be wistful thinking on my part, but seemed reluctant to part. But she had to get changed and man her station, and I still dealing with my internal conflict, needed some time alone to try to figure this all out. I tell her I be around, and will stop by occasionally to say hi. She nods and leaves to change.

I again settle into my corner, as far from Lirica as possible. It's Pacifico time, and I really need it. This is starting to drive me crazy, and I need to do something to break out of this mood. And a session with Tanya may be exactly what I need. But noon comes and goes, but no Tanya. I guess I'm not really surprised, Tanya doesn't look the type that pays much attention to the clock, but I do want to have some fun and then leave Adelita's for a few hours. Some time outside the zone, I think to myself, that's what I need to get some perspective. Lirica is obviously affecting me far more than I want, after all, this is just a vacation, I have a whole other life back in the states, one with no room for a 20 year old prostitute 3000 miles away in another country. This vacation is a once in a life time deal, and the clock is ticking. How much of my growing despondency is due to that fact and not Lirica? Imponderables that have no answers for now. But what does have an answer is my desire for some diversion; the room is starting to fill nicely as chicas start coming in for their shifts. But by far the most desirable chica currently in residence is Candi, who catches my eye and gives a small wave and smile. Candi is looking particularly good in today's flavor of flowered outfit. Dark hair and great figure go perfectly with her short sundress. She smiles as I approach and after exchanging pleasantries, agree on a full hour session.

Once in the room, Candi lives up to every positive review she has gotten. Very much into slow, gentle caressing, much of our hour is taken up with foreplay. Candi's body is not a hard one, but instead is soft, no workouts for this girl, but thin, no fat and I love just running my hands over it and gently squeezing occasionally. Candi is well trimmed and really enjoys daty; a series of "wow wow wowowowow"s tells me that I am having some success in this area. Slight shivers are also forthcoming and I'm really starting to feel better about myself. Her oral skills are outstanding, hell; her skills in general and personality are outstanding. Sex with Candi is what this trip is all about. Just the tonic I needed at this point. During a break, we talk for a few minutes, Candi curious about what I've been up to, I curious about Candi. Candi says she is 28, with two kids. No boyfriend, no husband. She is very proud of her kids. She is definitely one lady with her head screwed on straight. I tell her of my upcoming outdate with Lirica to Las Pulgas. Our session ends with a shower, and some advice that I should be careful. (Of what? Of Lirica? I'm I that transparent?) She just smiles and pats my check and says enigmatically "of what you're doing". She walks me downstairs and back to the bar.


One more aqua mineral with limon (lime) and I need to get out of here. I think to myself as I'm back in my booth. At least I should return from vacation with some kind of tan, something I'll never get here in Adelitas. As I'm preparing to leave, just as luck would have it Tanya shows up. She laughs when I tell her I had waited for her but then gave up and went with Candi. She plops down in the booth and after a drink and some foreplay, we agree to try again tomorrow, Sunday. I make my way to the door, purposely not looking to see if Lirica is on the other side of the far bar.

I decide to walk it back to the hotel, easy enough in daylight, but I don't think I'd do it at night. Once back at the hotel, I decide to take a stroll up Rev, staying away from the area Lirica and I had been on earlier. I end up buying her a small gift, a necklace with a charm, something a little more lasting than I'll be perhaps. The shop I buy it in is at least able to box it and uses the plastic bag as wrapping paper. Oh well, I think to myself, better than nothing. I return to the Internet cafe, check on my email, then head back to the hotel at loose ends.

To be continued...

What a Long Strange Trip It's Been - Day 4 Part 2

I return to Adelitas later than normal, if truth were told, I'm starting to OD on the whole scene. When I arrive, the only thing that really interests me is finding Lirica and leaving. But although I have timed my arrival for later than normal, I still have a couple of hours to kill. I do buy Lirica a drink and we chat and listen to the music. She is genuinely looking forward to tonight, her eyes bright and gestures animated. Again she discusses the different venues, asking which I would like the most. It's apparent though she is a big fan of banda so naturally that's my choice. (Whatever the hell banda is). I notice her actions towards me are changing by small degrees, now when we sit, she puts her arm around me, before I can put my arm around her. She likes to place the drink order too, demonstrating that she knows what I want. When my aqua mineral arrives, (and she also peremptorily sends the waiter back for limon, much to my amusement) she must pour it, and keeps an eye on it so when it needs refilling she refills it before I have a chance. She does all this watching me to see if I notice, and is pleased when I do. Her favorite drink is kaluha and cream, an old favorite of mine, reserved for traditional holiday parties with family on my part, (much too fattening); I tell her so and this little glimpses of my life seem to fascinate her. She says sadly that's why she feels she never gets ask to dance in the evenings, that she's too fat. I assure her that that's not so, and that her figure is excellent (no lie here). But she really has an ego problem on this subject though and says no; men prefer small waists and big chichis. I'm going to lose this one, so I just say her chichis are fine and so is her waist. Then I tell her that all natural chichis are best, and don't even think about buying new ones, she doesn't need them. This seems to mollify her, and I quit while I'm ahead. We are starting to get very comfortable around each other. But again, real life at Adelitas intrudes, the waiters hover, becoming increasingly insistent on refills. This is far different than my experience with Sophia, when a glare and a dismissive hand gesture on her part bought us what seemed to be endless time free from intrusion. But Lirica is evidently much closer to the bottom of the Totem pole here, and the waiters do not cut us a similar break. So it's back to my corner for at least a short time.

But I get increasingly restless again tonight, I want my Lirica, and by 9:00pm I'm back at her side asking if she would like to leave early. She smiles (in relief or is it my imagination?) and nods yes, tells me to wait right where I'm standing and runs to the hotel to get her "things". When she returns (record time, about 5 minutes) she's changed (another set of jeans that looks the same as before) and is carrying a little clothe lunch sack with her "overnight" things (this girl travels light). Once outside it's time to negotiate the bar fine. This time my buddy on the stool, who smiles and nods in recognition has an assistant. And I come close to loosing it again. Lirica opens negotiation with this fat little turd, who feels it's his right to put his hands all over her while checking with the boss. I control myself, knowing starting something here would be real trouble, Policia trouble, but I having trouble dealing with it. Lirica sees my face and gestures to me to relax, turning away from fat turd who now has his hands on her belly, under her top. Fortunately the boss comes back with the usual $10 fine, I shove a $20 under fat turd's nose, who out of self defense has to remove his hands from Lirica to grab it. We exchange glares; it's a good bet we will not be exchanging Christmas cards this year. To ensure it, as soon as he takes the twenty, I snap my fingers, and motion for the change, further irritating him. Since another chica at the same time is paying her $10 bar fine, he has no excuse not to give me my change and he grudgingly hands it over. Lirica sees all this grabs my arm pulls me over to the cabs. I jump the cab line too, going directly to Jose's cab, who has to then explain to his fellow drivers we are amigos to smooth over some ruffled feathers. Lirica just looks at me and rolls her eyes and shakes her head. I think she's wondering what she's gotten herself into. I'm determined to lighten up and enjoy myself.

And enjoy myself I do. I tell Lirica that we have to go to the room first, she grins and shakes her head in resignation, having a totally wrong idea of why I want to go to the room. Once there, I sit her down and give her my gift. Her hand shakes as she opens it; I don't know what she expected it to be. Removing the necklace, her eyes tear up and she doesn't want to accept it. I insist, putting on around her neck, explaining that the charm has a traditional meaning of protecting the wearer in the US. I tell her it's meant to protect her when I leave. She fingers it and nods solemnly, I never see Lirica again without the necklace on. Some quiet moments together follow, and then it's time for a light dinner at Ricardo's. The waiter now knows us and greets us as we enter the dining area. We eat quickly then it's a short walk to Las Pulgas. This place is amazing. It's so busy they block off the street (Revolution) in front of it. There are long lines to get in but they move quickly. It's something like $10 to get in but well worth it. I do get searched when I get to the ticket booth, I guess I look dangerous. But I notice so are a lot of the other guys so I don't mind. I do seem to be the only gringo though, but nobody cares. I look for my fellow traveler who seems to make Las Pulgas his home, but it's so crowded it's impossible to spot anyone here. The next five hours are perhaps the most fun I've had going out since I got married. Lirica is having a blast, singing and swaying to the music. We start drinking single beers, but move on to a bucket. The music is canned, the live band not starting until after midnight. A large dance stage below an equally large band stage dominates one side, while a sixty foot bar dominates the other. A raised area with smaller bar is at the far end and that's where we sit. It's obvious Lirica would love to dance, and after fortifying myself with a couple of Pacificos I attempt to oblige her. My lack of dancing skills are glaringly apparent, but Lirica doesn't mind. Songs run into each other without pause, leaving no graceful way to leave the dance floor. After a couple of these extended songs Lirica has mercy on me and we return to the table. Upon sitting down she places her chair next to mine and we settle in, holding each other, for the rest of the evening. The rest of the crowd is young, pretty typical meet market stuff. I haven't done this since the days of disco. The live band finally troops in and I've never seen or heard anything like it before. I gather this is pretty typical for banda music, and although I've been listening to it canned now for a couple of hours (and it's been played at Adelitas also) seeing performed in person is a unique experience. The band consists of 16 members. (Yes 16, that is not a typo). It's anchored by a tuba flanked by a couple of fluegelhorns. In addition, there is a heavy brass section of a couple of trombones and several trumpets (the number of trumpets varies because a couple of the guys keep switching instruments). Next there's some clarinets and other assorted woodwinds. Topped off by not one, but two drummers. The object seems to be to play as loud and fast as possible, sometimes actually playing in unison. It kinda reminded me of the music in "Close Encounters of the Third Kind", when the spaceships visit Devil's Tower, only louder. Plus these guys dress in the best mo'town tradition, as interpreted Mexican tastes (Lots of dyed baby blue leather with white shirts and pants, all trimmed in bangles) and in mo'town tradition, do a little dance routine while performing too. (Picture the Temptations on speed). This is like watching a car wreck. I'm totally entranced. Of course having Lirica beside me helps a great deal, they could have been banging trashcan lids and I would have still enjoyed myself. We sit through two sets of live music, and I discover that Lirica could very easily drink me under the table. After the bucket, she moves on to wine coolers, I nurse a beer for the rest of the night. Ah, youth.

But like all good things, this too must end. My eardrums plead for mercy and Lirica indicates even she has had enough. We return to the VdeZ. Quick showers, now Lirica doesn't even bother with a towel, god, what a beautifully ripe body, and it's time for bed. Lirica asks if we can postpone further activities until morning, pleading tiredness, yeah, well I'm feeling my liquor too I think to myself. But I show mock disappointment and agree. We snuggle in the middle of the bed and fall asleep.

So ends day four.
What a Long Strange Trip It's Been - Day 5

Day 5 starts out identical to day 4. I'm amazed, normally a heavy sleeper, and one who needs at least 8 hours, here I am waking up after a long night of drinking and partying with only 4 hours sleep. But I'm very happy I do, this way I get some time to just watch Lirica sleep. Again she is cuddled on my chest, using me for a pillow. She is so beautiful and vulnerable it is causing me physical pain. I know that my time left with her can be counted in hours, and there's not a thing I can do about it. Crazy ideas flit through my head as I lay there and stroke her hair, divorce, selling our home, finding a job in San Diego and living in Tijuana. I have no idea how or why this girl has gotten this deeply into my head. She is undeniably beautiful, but so are many of the women I've been with over the last four days. The sex is good, but she is too young and inexperienced to provide great sex. Plus her inability to enjoy sex herself has put a break on my own enjoyment. Her life story is heart wrenching and saddens me deeply, but why? The only thing I can think of is that we are two very simpatico people. I come all the to Mexico for some no strings attached sex and I find someone who I care about as a person. Just my luck. But her personality is a wonder to me; her freshness and beauty are pure joy, her current environment a stab in the heart with an ice pick. And here I am, just another piece of that environment that I wish I could change for her. Darker thoughts cross my mind; maybe it's the youth and inexperience that are the attractants here. Maybe I'm enjoying the fact that I can feel I am part of this girl's debasement. Down deep, do I find this girl's lack of sexual response a turn-on? I can freely take, giving nothing in return. A willing rape victim. One who will do anything I tell her to, doing nothing in protest but wincing, and turning her head in shame, but spreading her legs even wider in acceptance of my domination of her. A human vibrator for my penis. My mind recoils in horror from these thoughts as they skitter through my head. No, I think to myself, I've never been big on that whole male domination thing, it's not the way I was raised and it's never really appealed to me as an adult. And anyway, if that were the case, I wouldn't be laying here with what I tell myself and you the reader, is "an allergic eye reaction to the obviously highly polluted Tijuana air". I'm determined to save some shreds of my already tattered dignity and not allow Lirica to see this.

But I'm not entirely successful in this. As she slowly awakes (again I note, much like a cat, a piece at a time), a soft smile forms on her lips as she stretches. Today, there is no need to orient herself, she awakes knowing where she is, and seems very content in that knowledge. Her slow lazy smile fades though as she touches my face with her finger and upon drawing it back, sees that it is wet. Damn this allergic reaction I tell her, she doesn't buy it either. I retreat to the bathroom, too many beers last night, and my mouth tastes like cotton; I can only imagine what it smells like. The same thoughts must have occurred to Lirica, because as I exit, she makes a dash for the door. More in control now, I lay on the bed, watching more of that stupid Spanish channel (now doing some kind of kid's quiz show). Lirica returns, and snuggles down next to me.

The sex is bittersweet at best. Despite my best efforts to please and arouse her, nothing I do gets a positive response from her. She is definitely wet, but unlike two nights ago she is reserved, holding back. Much like the first session we had at Adelitas. Finally I call a timeout for breakfast. A return to Ricardo's turns out to be less than a great idea, since neither of us is in the mood for chatting. After breakfast and back at the hotel I'm determined to try again, slowly caressing, petting and undressing Lirica, as I kiss and nibble at her, until I finally get her down to just her necklace. A long, slow and gentle session follows. My success is still limited and after completion, we just lay on the bed holding each other. She knows as well as I that something is wrong, something fundamental has changed. She looks up at me, concern on her face, "What is wrong?" I can't deal with my emotions any longer. I'm determined to end this now. "Esta es adios" I say in my fractured Spanish. By her expression of hurt, I can see that I have made myself pretty plain though. She looks thoughtful for a while, long even by her standards, then nods her head in acknowledgement. She holds on to me a bit longer, and with a final hug gets up to dress. As she is dressing, she asks what my plans for the rest of the day are, her back to me, but watching me out of the corner of her eye as she bends over to tie her shoe. I am deliberately vague, saying I don't know where I'll be or what I'm doing. She pauses, then shrugs in acceptance. The walk back to Adelita's is entirely different today than yesterday. Even the vendors and hawkers seem subdued. Unlike yesterday Lirica and I do not hold hands, and although we walk together, there is distance between us, if the truth be known, more emotional than physical. Early on our walk back, she tells me she is going to the hairdressers, that she will be leaving before we get to the zone, but at every corner she pauses slightly but continues on with me. We reach the corner of Constitution and Calle Coahuilla. There we stop, staring at each other, I, trying to memorize every square millimeter of her face, for her, . . . for her I just don't know. Finally the spell is broken, we say awkward good-byes, she continues on down Constitution, I turn to go into Adelita's.

As I enter Adelitas, I wish I had never come to Tijuana. This is the worst possible scenario that could have happened to me. I'm 48 years old, married to the same woman for 23, and I'm now sitting in a whorehouse trying to deal with feelings I haven't had to deal with since adolescence. How totally unfair, I think selfishly. I'm now officially an emotional basket case. I need a beer, or two, or three.

Thank God Tanya shows up. It's a very slow afternoon, and Tanya has no problem sitting and just talking for quite a while. BTW, Tanya is another chica who can tell the waiters to buzz off and they stay buzzed. She senses that there's something wrong with me, that I'm not acting the same way I had before. The chica grapevine is up to its usual efficiency, and she questions me closely about my time with Lirica. She asks if I will be seeing her again today, my negative response gets a raised eyebrow. She changes the topic as only Tanya can. As if hit by sudden realization, she turns to me with a wicked grin and says, "I think I forgot my panties today", grabs my hand and puts it under her skirt. My god, I believe your right I say. And we both crack up. I tell her I think she is naughty. This is a new word for her, and once I explain the meaning "malo, pero un poco" she loves it. She makes me write it down for her, reading it, silently saying it to herself, mouthing the word. She practices saying it, laughing, "Tanya es naughty" and she repeats 3 or 4 times. Well, I think to myself, at least I made somebody's day. After our English lesson we agree that I need an hour session with message. At her suggestion I rent a room for the day. ("You never know what you'll need it for" she says with a twinkle in her eye.)

Tanya, like Candi is deserving of every positive review she has gotten. This is the type of session I had hoped for during all my planning of this trip. Tanya loves to be touched. Kissing and caressing as we undress builds our mutual heat. Tanya also loves daty, and in fact at one point early in our session, jumps off my face because is wanted to delay orgasm. Tanya's oral skills are famous and justly so. Using her tongue, lips and teeth, she creates a sensation unlike any other. She also shows me a couple of new (new to me anyway) positions that are fun. Her body, like Candi, is soft and supple, not a youthful, hard dancers body, but oh so much fun. Tanya is definitely an "E" ticket.

After sex, Tanya provides the other service she is famous for, massage. So this is what a professional massage is like? Her skills in this area also are exceptional (again, my opinion, based on admittedly limited experience) and I thoroughly enjoy this also. Again the "warm pussy in the middle of your back while having your shoulders massaged" is a sensation not to be missed. She does take time during and after the massage to deliver a sermon (it is Sunday after all) or more of a lecture. "Bill es muy romantica", "he thinks with his heart" and all cancers (my sign) are romantics, too romantic. That's me, just a sloppy ol' love puppy. She wags her finger, she's serious she says. I just love the way she talks about me in the third person. Lectures from Tanya, never would have guessed that a week ago. She's right though, she clearly sees the difference between sex and personal involvement, but then again, I thought I could too. Our time together wraps up at a leisurely pace, (renting a room for the day is a great idea), after about an hour and a half. I point this out to Tanya, who waves it away as if of no consequence, I guess there's no charge for the lecture.

After returning to the bar and downing a beer, I find myself increasingly restless. I can't help myself, I find myself looking for Lirica. But she's nowhere to be found. I try to convince myself that it's for the best. After another beer I decide that staying here is about as much fun as getting a root canal. So I walk back to the hotel to pack.

As I pack, I find I still have several gift bags that I have no intention of taking back home with me. I throw them all into a large backpack and decide to distribute them to the chicas this evening. I try to tell myself that it's not an excuse to mount a more extensive search for Lirica, but even I'm not buying that. As I'm doing my walk through of the room to make sure I'm not missing anything, I spot the Lirica's soap sponge hanging in the shower. It's amazing how small a fig leaf our hearts need for an excuse to do something our heads tell us is stupid. I now have a perfectly legitimate reason to find Lirica. A $1.29 Walmart soap sponge.

It's early evening as my cab pulls up at Adelitas. I quickly distribute some of my goodies, Candi, such a sweetheart, is surprised and pleased with hers. She takes my arm and asks how I'm doing. I must be some kind of live soap opera for these girls. I tell her fine and continue my walk around. My search for Lirica intensifies; I have to see her, touch her, and attempt to make emotional contact with her, one more time. My increasingly obvious searching must have attracted some kind of attention because a chica I've never seen before tells me that Lirica is not here right now, but might be around later and disappears before I can ask her where Lirica is, and could I get a message to her. Jeez, how many of these people are in on this I wonder. And don't give this odd occurrence any further thought. (Bill is not real big on connecting the dots). My bag, bulky and cumbersome is getting as heavy as my heart. I decide to dump it in my "room".

Upon returning downstairs I try to relax and have an aqua mineral in my corner, I signal Samuel, he doesn't even bother to come over, but brings me a bottle, glass and cup of limons on his next pass with a grin. Man, I'm going to miss him. I nurse this for about an hour, listening to the music as the floorshow starts. I don't think I'll ever be able to listen to Anita Ward sing "Ring my Bell" again without my throat getting tight. This song (part of Alexandra Dos's set) has played at least a dozen times since my arrival in TJ, and is now inexorably bound up with the memories of this place and my mood. (Ed. note - another song, whose name and artist I can't place, whose chorus is "I don't want to fall in love, with you", is even more poignant for me now (I think this is an Elise set song), worse yet it is currently featured on Jaguar commercials on TV and has the disconcerting habit of popping up at the least expected moments). Sitting here is getting me nowhere, so I start to circle the room in hopes of locating Lirica. I can't stand it, my thoughts start circling the fact that I may never see her again, that I didn't say a proper goodbye, thank her for a life long memory. I head upstairs, and confront the desk clerk, telling him it's important that I get a message to her, knowing I look a fool. I try really hard to control my impatience as he talks on the phone, talks on his walkie-talkie, consults his associates in rapid Spanish. I think that there are rules against this and nobody wants to bend them. After 15 minutes he comes back and tells me with a shrug that if I knew her room number. . . . . letting hang out there that he can't, won't be of further help. I mentally kick myself, if I had paid closer attention to Lirica this morning, or not been such a hard ass, she probably would have given me that information. She was probably trying to sound me out if I wanted that information. I briefly consider having the clerk put me through to Sophia and see if she can help, but I can't, that's just too embarrassing.

I descend the stairs in total despair. Back to the street. My earlier experience with the gatekeepers had not been a pleasant one, and I was not about to ask the son-of-a-bitch that had mauled Lirica for any favors. But I get lucky, he's not there, the guy on the stool is the older one, the one who was actually friendly the few times I had talked to him. I take a chance and ask for his help. I start to explain that I'm looking for Lirica, a friend, I need to say good bye, but he stops me, putting his hand. My heart sinks, but then he says, "I know who you are, let me see what I can do for you". The guy is openly sympathetic to my plight and starts making calls on his walkie-talkie, barking out commands that I can't quite catch. A few minutes later a chica emerges from the doorway, he orders her, (yes orders), to go find Lirica, turning to me to explain that this chica has the room next door to Lirica. He then smiles ruefully and shakes his head, and says this may take a few minutes, not having much confidence in the speed or dedication of the chica to carry out her mission. "Put she'll find her", he adds, nodding, as if to say she better not come back down without her, and motions me to stand along the wall and be patient.

I now get a fascinating glimpse at some of the inner workings of Adelitas. Chicas come and go, checking in, checking their status on the clipboard. A big assed Mercedes pulls up and out pops a chica, (returning from god knows where, but I can guess doing what). One older guy with bad teeth turns up, checking in with my buddy with the clipboard, the boss perhaps? Very interesting. And fat turd shows up and provides some entertainment. We glare at each other, but his heart isn't in it, he keeps getting distracted by the chicas coming and going, for some reason he feels they all need a good mauling. He's careful though, I note with cynical amusement, he gives the more experienced, senior chicas a wide berth, and laugh as I catch one glaring at him as he approaches, he suddenly finds something of great interest to do on the other side of the doorway. But it's been over a half-hour now, and my amigo shrugs and says "Chicas, sometimes these things take longer, sometimes they don't show at all". My hope starts to fade. But just as I'm considering to cut my losses, pack it in, she's there, she's there in front of me, smiling, touching my hand, it's her. I take both her hands in mine, squeeze, as if to make sure they're flesh and blood and not an illusion. I want to grab her, hold her, take her into my arms, carry her away, but all I can do is stand there, grinning in relief. She smiles, nods and gestures once she gets her hand back, to go inside.

As we are making our way to an empty booth behind the second bar we pass a local standing by the DJ booth. Something passes between Lirica and him, something quick, something that doesn't register fully on me. A nod of recognition perhaps, no, more of an acknowledgement and even a slight wave-off on the part of Lirica. But I'm here with Lirica, so it doesn't fully register. Once seated, she apologizes, she had been asleep all afternoon, after returning from the hairdressers, she fell asleep and hadn't woken up until her neighbor (the one sent upstairs by my amigo with the clipboard) had pounded on the door for what seemed to be forever. Ah, I think to myself, that explains the puffy eyes. I don't know if I'm happy or sad about that. We hold each other, making some small talk. I try to express my deepening feelings towards her without making a total fool of myself. Getting out my pad and pen I make a silly little drawing of a heart and put "Las Plugas" and Lirica in it. She watches with great interest as I do this and takes the pen out of my hand and draws another series of hearts around the first and nods, indicating she agrees. Agrees to what? I think. That she loves herself and Las Plugas? I sigh inwardly and let it drop, probably for the best anyway. One drink, then another, I can't help but just sit there and look at her, even this makes me content, even though I again can hear the clock ticking. Finally, she moves slightly away from me, enough so that she can face me, holds my hand, looks into my eyes, and says "what?" indicating my obvious sadness. What I'm I to say? I pause, giving her a bit of her own, and just shrug. Even if I thought it made any sense to tell her what I was feeling, even if I could explain those feelings to myself, my command of Spanish would prevent me. So I just say, "I have a room, upstairs". A look of relief passes over her face, I realize she had just asked a question that she was just as happy to sidestep. A room upstairs she can handle, she knows what a room upstairs means. Or is there more? Does she expect a quieter location will mean a more serious conversation, a more meaningful conversation? As we leave, retracing our steps, we once again pass the local. Again something indefinable passes between them, this time he even makes a slight hand gesture towards Lirica, brushing his hand against hers. She pulls back, and without pausing heads toward the door, I'm trailing behind, like a tail on a kite.

Once in the room, Lirica sits on the bed, a questioning look on her face, as if to say, "How are we going to play this?" I shy away yet again from opening up, really, what purpose would it serve? Instead, I grab my goodie bag, first I give her back the stupid sponge she had forgotten. This gets an exclamation and a thank you. I then proceed to give her the rest of the contents of my knapsack, a couple more of the gift bags. The contents are the same as before, except each has a different perfume, but each must be unpacked and examined. The perfumes must all be opened and sampled, each on a different spot on her forearms. Each given a critical sniff, first by her, then she insists, by me, offering her arm for approval. She is soon surrounded on the bed with enough sundries to open a small drugstore, like a child on Christmas morning. She shyly looks at me, sitting on the bed, her eyes looking up through her lowered eyelashes, totally unconscious of the beauty this image. And she thanks me, she thanks me for some shitty little sundries, crap that I had bought for no other reason than to help facilitate some sex with some nameless, faceless Tijuana prostitute, thanks me again acting like I just presented her with riches beyond counting. My heart is breaking, she knows I upset, and quickly lowers her head, making a project out of gathering up the toiletries, repacking them into the bags. She returns to the bed, melting into my arms as if we were molded for each other.

And for the last time, we make love. I slowly undress her, and just as slowly and softly make love to her for the next two hours. I am determined this time to do it right, hit those still hidden buttons, allow her to get in return some small percentage of the pleasure she had given me over the last three days. Halfway through our marathon session I break, and sneak a half a tablet of viagra. Curiously, this has the opposite effect from that desired and I loose my hardness. Lirica is content though to allow the break to stretch indefinitely, and after a short period (15 minutes) I'm again hard. Very slowly, even methodically I again attempt to arouse her. This time I'm getting more than mere wetness from this girl, she's moaning, clutching the sheets, bunching them in her hands while she is in the doggie position at the edge of the bed, I standing behind her. She is slipping down, her knees spreading further and further apart, this has the effect of tightening her vagina muscles, I can feel them rippling around my penis. I pick up the pace, I'm heading towards a climax myself, my back muscles, never used to so much of this type of activity as they have gotten over the last 5 days are screaming for relief. I'm now pumping as fast and as hard as I can. Finally she lets out one last moan, almost a gasp, and I'm done, I cannot hold back, I finish and collapse on the bed next to her, covered in sweat. I'm almost afraid to ask. I turn to her, "Bien?" I ask, hopefully. I slow sweet smile creeps over her face, "Bien" she returns. "Orgasm?" I ask, almost whispering. A long Lirica pause, the smile softens, "Maybe, a little", she says in response. I'll take it; I'm going to hold on to that as if that's my precious gift, my riches beyond counting. I'm not going to dwell on the possibility that knowing how much it meant to me, she was saying it to please me. That Lirica, for all the discussions we had had, may not wish to experience orgasms with clients; that she wants to wall off that part of herself, to keep that part from being violated. And if that last part is true, and she did experience one with me, she had indeed given me a gift beyond the ability of most people to give another. And even if she hadn't, well, she thought enough of me to say she had, not in an off-hand, throw away "sure baby, you're great" manner, but with thoughtfulness far beyond that required. But like I say, if you ask me, she had, she had. I need to hold on to that, more than I wish to admit.

Our time together was indeed drawing to a close. Some time is spend in the bed, just holding one another, but even this is getting painful for me, too quiet, too peaceful, too much time to think. I get up, offer her the shower first, asking how much I owe her. A look, the meaning of which I'm still not sure of, passes over her face, again a Lirica trademarked pause, followed by a quote that was lower than most street girls would quote for a quickie on a slow day. I give her the contents of my wallet, less $20. She accepts, eyes downcast with a slow shake of her head. She starts to protest, I cut her off, "between friends" I say. And strangely enough, I mean it, and I think she knows it because she nods slowly, and looks thoughtful, finally turning to the shower.

My last opportunity to view the beauty of Lirica nude, save for her necklace, followed as she dressed. I lay on the bed transfixed, drinking in every second, she in turn pleased and embarrassed at such attention, giggling and blushing. She primly sits on the bed, as I shower and dress, waiting for me, no thought of leaving before I do. As I finish dressing, she realizes she has her gift bags to take back to her room. She makes it plain, she wants me to wait for her while she takes them back (she almost upset at the idea that I would leave before she returns, once at the door, and once five feet down the hall, turning and asking, no almost pleading that I stay. As if I would leave.

We walk, hand in hand back downstairs, back to the bar. Again past the local, this time Lirica totally ignoring him. One more drink, a few more precious minutes with Lirica. Her girlfriend comes over, agitated, looks at me, and starts to yell at Lirica, Spanish much to fast for me to pick up on. Lirica cuts her off, a few words, the chica stops as if poleaxed, stares at Lirica momentarily, turns on a heel and leaves. I ask Lirica what that was all about, Lirica, holding on to me tighter, says, "Nada, no es impotante". But the spell is broken, I know she has someone waiting now, has had someone waiting for the last 3 or 4 hours. Some quick glances over to the local on her part confirms it, he must be a regular, patiently waiting for her to break free. A fist tightens around my heart, it's time to leave, there's now no point in prolonging this, and in a way I'm almost grateful for the hombre, for providing a shot of reality. As painful as it is, I say goodbye, saying I won't see her again, for although I'll still be around on Monday, I know she doesn't work, not giving her the opening to make other arrangements. I final deep kiss, the first openly in the bar, and I make my departure, not looking back, passing the local thinking that there was the lucky Cabron.

A quick cab ride back to my now seemingly cold and empty room concludes day 5.
What a Long Strange Trip It's Been - Day 6

I sleep late the next morning, the morning of day 6, and my last day in Tijuana. I know it will beat least 24 hours before I see a bed again, or at least one for sleeping I tell myself, but somehow, this does not excite me as it had a week ago. Shower, dress and finish packing. Checkout and storing of my bags is done quickly. The emptying of my safety deposit box only underscores the fact the my trip is drawing to a close, for the first time, I'm carrying car keys, and although the car is in the airport parking lot back in Pennsylvania, it's like a talisman, a constant reminder that it's there I belong, not Tijuana. Breakfast follows and it's time to finish my shopping.

Returning to Revolution only brings back memories of Lirica and I walking down here on Saturday morning. Two days ago, but it seems like a lifetime. My mood is only further darkened, when the owner of the store where I had down most of my shopping, and had now returned to inquires about the whereabouts of my very beautiful companion. Fortunately, after seeing my face, he is astute enough to put 2 and 2 together with the already stated fact that I leaving today and drops it with a consoling pat and "There are many more girls for you yet, you'll see". Yeah, right. But I've lost my appetite for shopping, accomplishing what needs to be done as quickly as possible, and escape Revolution.

One bright spot was that I had a luncheon appointment with a friend, one made by way of the board. He turns out to be an ideal companion, one which I wish I could have spent more time with. He shows me some of his favorite haunts, and we meet some of his friends. For my part at least, we seem to click immediately, and his views and perspectives on what has happened are reassuring and deeply appreciated. An offer to provide a ride to the airport is also deeply appreciated; a favor freely offered knowing full well I cannot return it, a hallmark of a true friend. This also allows me to maximize my remaining time, something I'm not sure what to do with. We do however have a leisurely lunch after which we return to one of his favorite bars where I have the pleasure of meeting his favorita. Since he has some time blocked out to spend with her, we make some quick plans to meet later in the day. Like a lemming and with as much thought as one, I decide to return to Adelitas. Might as well end this trip the same way I started it, I think. I walk over to the yellow cabstand and grab a ride with my newly introduced friend, Amidor. Amidor speaks excellent English, and we have brief, but enjoyable conversation on the way down constitution. All too soon we're back to Adelita's and I make my exit.

I enter Adelita's perhaps for the final time. A very bitter-sweet moment on many levels, realizing that this could very well be that last time I'd be here, as well as remembering all the wonderful times I had both on this trip and my last. But of course, mostly my thoughts were on Lirica. I return to the table we had sat at the night before, empty now, like much of the bar. I need some time to figure out what I'm going to do. Last night is still haunting me; the thought of her going upstairs with another hombre is a difficult one to confront. Intellectually, it's easier, Lirica had chosen this path, and that's what's involved, servicing men. A little voice in the back of my head adds, isn't that exactly what she did for you? But now having a face put on the previously shadowy "other clients" is a hard one to swallow. There's really no jealousy here, just infinite sadness, and foreboding, one of these guys, someday may hurt her, hurt her badly, intentionally or not. We all know there are guys out there that get their kicks by doing this, and for someone like Lirica, it's just a roll of the dice until it happens. And a fat lot of good that charm on that necklace I had gotten her is going to be then. But even that's not what's at the root of my despair, it's the fact that no one is going to give her the kind of care she deserves, the kind of relationship I would want to give her, if I would, if I could, stay. Her experiences with men is will continue to be one of all giving on her part, and getting little or nothing in return. How long would it be before Lirica was no longer Lirica, but some bitter, cynical caricature of what is, what she could be, today? And that's the heart of it, the very act that I initially sought from Lirica is the one that I fear the most for her. And this fact, I told myself, tells me more about me than Lirica; it's really time for me to grow up. For Lirica had chosen this path, and has a better idea, far better than me, what lies along that path. Lirica has not felt any this type of emotion towards me, these are mine, and as I said earlier, mine to deal with.

As I sat there, alone in the booth, the chica from last night, Lirica's friend approaches. "Lirica's not here," she says interrupting my thoughts. Ah I think, if only the CIA and FBI would work this well, the world would soon be rid of all terrorists. She frowns, obviously my lack of reaction at this news is not what she expected. She tries again, "Lirica doesn't work today". I nod, and shrug, I know this. Said chica disappears, leaving behind an air of disappointment, she didn't get the kind of responses she wanted. A beautiful girl walks by, slows, looks over her shoulder to see if I paid any attention. God, I think to myself, this is exactly what's so wonderful about this place. This same girl in the US would only be interested in putting as much distance between us as possible, but here, well here I could be undressing her inside of 5 minutes if I care to. She is very beautiful I note, dove gray evening dress on, about 22, tall, dark blonde or sandy brown hair, light skin. I smile, and she comes over. We talk for a few minutes, introduces herself as Angela, another gorgeous girl that could be a model in the US, and as a bonus possesses excellent English skills. I toy with the idea of going up for an hour, and even negotiate a bit. We talk briefly about our likes and dislikes, she assures me that she knows what I like, I having been noted by her before, and that it's the same as she likes and to prove it she makes a short list of activities we could do in an hour, ending it with parting her lips and licking them, I guess in case I missed her meaning. I sigh inwardly, somebody's talking, but by now it could be any number of chicas, and anyway, it's nice to know that I'm not considered a total loser. But we can't agree on price; but the truth be told, it's only a difference of $10, it's just that I really don't have the energy to meet someone new, even someone as beautiful as Angela. I decline, suddenly thinking that she may be friends with Lirica, and that's the source of her information. Angela at first doesn't believe it, then leaves in something of a huff. I feel badly about that, Angela would have been a real find as a partner earlier in my vacation, and I didn't mean the rejection to come off as an insult. I'm not doing too well here. I decide to move to the other side of the room, Angela has one very potent stare, glare actually, which she was using on me with great effect.

Hottie central is basically empty, and I sit in a booth by it and drink my last aqua mineral and try to decide what to do next. I have about 3 hours to kill, and I'm content to let them die a slow death. As I sit, who shows up for her shift, none other than Candi. Candi looks as beautiful and fresh as always in yet another signature flowered sundress. She smiles as she mans her station; just the sight of her raises my spirits. And it's not long before I'm daydreaming about another session with her. As I approach her grin widens, we talk for a couple of minutes, her telling me that she just got here, showing me her hair was still damp from her morning shower. We quickly agree on an hour session, and head upstairs.

There are times in every ones life when you reach a crossroads. Those times when very clearly you make a choice, real lady and the tiger stuff. Most times though we only recognize these moments in hindsight. That wonderful 20/20 vision we have late at night, when we can't sleep, and our lives, at least those moments deemed as important, roll incessantly past, to be played and replayed in an endless loop, an endless game of what if. And we can console ourselves with the thought that now, as we lay there, with the omniscient view from the future, we can make alternate choices with a better, happier ending. But we couldn't know, we didn't have the foreknowledge, of the absolute criticality of the moment, of the choices being made, when that moment actually happened. But there are a few, and thank God very few, crossroads where we know, we know at the moment of decision, we are making critical choices, choices that having once been made, can never be unmade, never changed, and that no matter how many times we replay it late at night, we've made our choice and there's no use speculating on alternate endings of these dramas. Oh but we do, we do; we replay them endlessly, forever sowing just a little more salt in that wound that will never heal. I was about to have such a moment. And I will be spending more time than I wish, late at night, replaying it, rewriting the script, revamping the ending, all in vain.

Candi and I ascent the steps, I quickly pay for the room, a full hour, and turn to go to the room. The next moments are frozen in time, remembered as crystal clear now as when they happened. Lirica is sitting on the steps leading to the 3rd floor. Sitting, eating out of a take-out container, dressed in street clothes, a red tee top and jeans. Total silence descends in the hall; there's an air of expectancy, even the clerk and towel boys are aware something has happened, is about to happen. Lirica's eyes lock onto mine. I'm frozen in pain and embarrassment. The moment stretches out for what seems forever. Finally Candi, a true lady in every sense of the word, breaks the silence, saying softly "Bill, I'll leave, go downstairs, you want to be with Lirica". Lirica, eyes still locked on mine, emotions unknown flitting across her face says just as softly, "No, Bill, I think you should go with Candi."

And so I went with Candi, I went with Candi. Now another man might have gratefully accepted Candi's offer. Another man might have even have gone over to Lirica, made contact, held her hand, anything, and tried to explain.

I on the other hand went with Candi. My God, that girl waited on those steps for the next hour and a half, until I was finished with Candi. Waited to say goodbye. My shame and self-loathing was now complete. What does one say to a girl who has patiently waited for you while you were having sex with another? Yeah, well, I couldn't think of anything either. I did try to get her to promise to write, to stay in touch, to let me know if she needs anything. And she took my business card, yes; I was that lame, I gave her my business card. As she took the card, our hands briefly met, as did our eyes, we both realized we would never see each other or hear from one another again.

And then I did the toughest thing I've ever done in my life; I turned and left . . . . . . . . . . . .

Well, there's really not much more to tell as far as my trip, oh, my second and final session with Candi was great, totally due to the efforts of Candi, who pulled out all the stops, and tried everything in the book to make it special. But my heart wasn't in it. Meeting up with my friend, we made a quick exit of TJ, the line across the border being mercifully short. Plenty of time for dinner in San Diego, and making it to the airport in plenty of time to find my flight cancelled.

So that's pretty much my trip report, a report started in the rain of Dulles and finished almost exactly two weeks later. A report on a vacation so long planned, and so greatly anticipated. One for which I had the highest hopes for excitement and pleasure. And one that taught me the true meaning of the phrase "Be careful what you wish for, you might get it".

It wasn't until my return flight out of San Diego that I realized Lirica was not sitting on those steps by happenstance. The chica grapevine had been at work all along. The chica that had earlier in the day confronted me with Lirica's absence, didn't just disappear with another monger, she went directly to Lirica. I had been set up, set up in a way that if I had followed my heart like I had the night before and looked for Lirica, this section of my trip report would look far different, as might my life. I had been tested. And found wanting.

Now I lay here at night, in the small hours of the morning and play the "what if" game. Endlessly speculating about that road untrod, that door passed by unopened, the choices not taken. For now, I take little pleasure in my trip, maybe as the hurt fades that will change.

I guess I suck as a monger, and I'm not doing too well in the human being department either.

BillfromReading/Treeshark

Read every word - interesting. Perhaps we should talk. Send me a message: lookingforpandora@yahoo.com. I can respond to this address easier then my epimetheus account...

E

whoops.. the monster report is by BillfromReading. since it had such an effect on people, I posted it again to try and save it..
For me it was a been there and done that..

This was simply incredible to read. If this fellow is still around I would be interested in hearing if there was a follow up or what happened with him as a person. ec3080@aol.com if you would like to send a back channel.

He wrote a couple of reports after that. You can find them by going to the Trip Report section and doing a name search on Billfromreading.

Bill doesn't get online much anymore, but I talk to him pretty regularly, and he's doing quite well.

Man that was a long report. He certainly had a flair for descriptive and detailed writing! With the preface, I had thought something terrible happened to the hombre. I must by a real slime ball, cuz I probably wouldn't of given the events a second thought. I'm glad he's doin OK!

Thanks a "whole," Treeshark ...

I was looking forward to mongering in Bs. As. and even in Uruguay. You have added all too human a face to my wishes, hopes, and plans.

I feel like an unqualified perfect shit for even hoping to get a little "action" now.

We all get into this lifestyle because of something missing in our lives. Be it a dead end marriage, a lack of good sex in the USA...whatever.

Bill/Treeshark fell in love with a beauty. The reality is, if he moved to TJ and married this woman, she would probably be just like the others.

He has fallen in love with an ideal. We all have done it in some point in our mongering careers.

I never met Billfromreading but used to chat with him quite a bit, but haven't heard from him in over 4 years. He's moved on from the board but was very active 5-6 years ago, I don't know how everything ended up but last I heard he was doing well.

I can relate to his despair. My situation was with a woman named Olga in Medellin. Many know of this situation, it wasn't quite the same, but similar.

I recovered quickly because when I first started mongering some 10+ years ago, I fell for a Cost Rican chica that left me thinking I wanted to get married to her.

Its a long story but basically it almost derailed me.

So I sympathize with this guy.