I once paid $20. Here's a repost of that story:
Xman was too drunk to understand what was happening. Trailor was too busy trying to score chicas gratis. But I don’t need God as my witness, because Ameritico had front-row seats at the show.
It was my last night in Costa Rica before flying out the next morning. By the time I got to the del Rey at about 1:00 a.m., all the primo chicas were snuggled warmly in the arms of mongers not named “Angry Pirate.†This made me angry. Of the dozens of chicas roaming the floor, not one was even close to approaching cien quality. The selection was so unpromising that I gave up at about 2:00 a.m. and headed up to my room empty handed.
Before I nodded off to sleep I asked myself whether any self-respecting monger would spend his last night in SJ without banging a chica. As it approached 3:00 a.m., I knew the pickings downstairs would be hopelessly slim. My thoughts led me to the wisdom espoused by that famous philosopher “Booger†in Risky Business: “Sometimes you have to say, what the Phuck.†It was time to take one for the Brotherhood and lower my standards. I threw on dirty shorts, sneakers sans socks, a tee shirt, and my trusty baseball cap, and out the door I went.
Since I was lowering my standards significantly, I could not in good conscience pay anything close to the standard price that most DR chicas expect. Once already this trip I committed the mortal sin of paying cien for a DR girl. For that I should be shot and buried alive face down in a hog lot. But she was a smoking Colombiana, I was extraordinarily horny, and I really didn’t feel like driving a hard bargain since I noticed several sets of lustful monger eyes sizing her up. What the Phuck, right? Digression aside, I set the price in my mind for my current mission: Twenty bucks, and not a penny more. Failure was not an option, so it was time to scrape the bottom of the barrel. No chica would be too fat, too ugly, or too old for cheap-ass Angry Pirate. Of course, although I was prepared to settle for fat, ugly, and old, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to start at the top of the chica continuum at sorta hot and work my way down to fugly.
Prospect #1 was a cute slender chica pushing thirty. Okay, not slender – She was so skinny that if she coughed she would fall through her asshole and strangle herself to death. But she had a nice face, and I would have been content to Phuck just that end of the stick if the lower half was intolerable. Normally I wouldn’t consider a chica of her caliber while trolling in the DR. But I had to be realistic in light of my mission. My opening line was: “Twenty dollars for twenty minutes.†She laughed and walked off. Not going according to plan. But I was undaunted. Off to the next prospect.
Prospect #2 was a chunky little Colombiana in her late twenties. She had a moderate amount of junk in the trunk, but her belly fat was her biggest hurdle in finding a sucker to pay her more than $50 for a session. I delivered the obligatory opening line, and she promptly laughed and walked off. At this point most rational mongers would have walked off realizing the futility of such an absurd proposition. But I was quite drunk. Drunk and angry. I *would* find a chica to walk the plank for twenty bones. Ameritico offered his encouragement. Okay, he laughed at me. But in my severely drunken state, it was encouragement. The mission continued.
Later Prospect #2 called me over to “the wall.†She had a friend. Friend was a little older, and despite her efforts to conceal the baby damage with loose clothing, she was a borderline brown-bagger. But again, my standards were LOW, so I listened. She proposed to have her friend join us for a three-way quickie for $40. Of course, that was totally unacceptable. I was in control. I was setting the price. Not a penny more than $20, period. Sorry ladies.
As I pondered my next move, I noticed Prospect #1 and Prospect #2 talking to other chicas while pointing at me. A lot of other chicas. They were getting the word out that some crazy-ass gringo was trying to score a quickie for twenty bucks. I was too drunk to appreciate that as info on my quest to score cheap bootie spread like wildfire, all the desperate chicas in the joint were put on notice. Silly chicas – They were doing my work for me!
Prospect #1 returned. “More money! More money!†I didn’t bother to ask how much “more money†was, because “more money†wasn’t twenty bucks. She volunteered, “Thirty dollars!†Sorry! Off to the next chica I went.
Prospect #3 was a light-skinned tica, late twenties, with a moderate but noticeable midriff bulge. Sure, I was a little sidetracked from working down the scale of hotness towards fugly. But I was hoping to get lucky, and she didn’t walk off after the initial laughter subsided. I worked her hard for at least 20 minutes. Either the charm was working or she pitied me, who cares, I was making progress. However, I couldn’t get her to budge under $30. Dammit! She was relatively hot! But she was ten bucks too expensive. My principles would not allow any deviation from the mission. Time to move on.
Within a minute of giving up on Prospect #3, Prospect #4 waddled up. She wasn’t grotesquely fat, but she was short and a little out of proportion. Hobbit short. Are hobbits shorter than trolls? I’m not sure. She was probably somewhere between a hobbit and a troll. She might not have been the oldest Tica in the DR that evening, but she was no spring chicken. I wouldn’t want to guess her age. I still don’t. I made the offer, she jumped at the chance, and the hobbit and I were off to my room.
Within one minute of entering my room my clothes were off and one-eye was staring at the ceiling. God bless beer. Under normal circumstances I can jack-hammer a chica and get the job done in under 15 sweaty minutes. But the hobbit had an unpleasant surprise for me as she slipped on the raincoat. Twenty bucks would include BJ only, no sexo. That wasn’t part of the plan. The mission could not fail. Boy, was she in for a surprise.
She started what promised to be an uneventful CBJ. Uneventful until I felt her finger slip into my bum. Whoa! Hey lady, this isn’t a phucking Asian massage parlor! You’re a Tica! WTF!?! Again, I was drunk. Better to go with the flow rather than bitch about it.
Unbeknownst to the hobbit, even while stinking drunk I have excellent leche control. I’ve dealt with the “no sexo†types before. I waited until her jaws clearly were getting tired, and I lowered the boom. I explained to her that she can slurp on my crank for 30 more minutes and it just wouldn’t matter. But if she let me put it in her honey box, I would leche in less than three minutes. I suppose she could have beat it after 20 minutes since technically that was the original agreement. But to her credit, she was going to finish the job. I got the honey box, and 5 minutes later I was in the shower. She left with her twenty bucks (no tip), and I slept like a rock until the alarm went off a few hours later. I took another long hot shower for good measure, and I was gone.
So there you have it. The del Rey hook-up for twenty bucks. Mission accomplished.
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