My visit to a Sex Motel.
The first time I found out about these was when I tried to stay in one just as I crossed the border into Mexico. The younger, naive Greg didn’t know that such places existed, but it slowly dawned on him as the puzzled desk clerk in halting english explained it was supposed to be by the hour, and the room was just a little off. Leopard plaid sheets, lotions by the bedside, and porn on TV. Just in case you don’t know, as I didn’t, here is the big difference. Motels, as opposed to Hotels, are designed for one thing, and one thing only – sex. In Latin America, even in affluent families, most young people live with their families until they are married. Most people don’t own cars. Lastly, it’s somewhat acceptable for a successful man to have a (younger) mistress. Where do you go when you want to get busy? Motels.
The typical motel is a fortress. It’s surrounded by high, solid walls, with only two entrances – one in and one out (appropriately.) You never leave your car, or really see another person when checking in (my first time I was on a motorcycle.) You pull up to a window, and hand in your and her ID. In Brazil, you have a national ID card, and you get it when you are 18. In hers, Simone looked about 14 years old in hers, and the woman couldn’t see her from the other side of the car. I got a strange (but not strange enough) “you perv, I’m calling the cops” look from the lady until she saw Simone’s age on the ID, and looked at her from across the car.
Once we established I wasn’t doing anything illegal (yet), we had to choose from a menu of options. The more basic rooms were just a bed, then started adding “features” – hot tubs, baths, pools, sauna, etc. Apparently, the Suite was open to the air, so you could get some in naked sunbathing (or anything else.) Those were all full, so we went with the next step down, which had a large (for indoor) pool, a steam bath, some crazy sex chair and two floors. All rooms had TV’s, large beds and a garage to park (and hide) your car. We also got a free lunch, since we were there right about lunch time.
This place, even with the included lunch, was expensive. My hotel in Sao Paulo was $36/US (or 90 Reals) for the whole day. The motel was 100, with the Suite going for 117 Reals for 3 hours. An extra hour was not much more (10 reals), and 12 hours was only about 10 reals more, too. I guess if you can go for 12 hours, then money is the least of your concerns, eh?
When you drive in, you park your car in the garage, which you then close to get some privacy. I never figured out how to close the damned thing, but I figure that anyone that was there had something better to do than mess with my car. When you enter the motel suite, there is a small room right inside the door. In this room is a couch on one side and a table with two chairs overlooking the pool. That’s right – a pool. This pool was pretty large – maybe 20 feet long, 10 feet wide, and about 4 feet deep. In one corner of the pool was a fountain of a naked greek goddess. Tacky, but it’s about what I expected for a place like this. To the right of the pool, on the same side as the room just off the garage was a steam bath. As you face the pool from the table, on the left hand side is the love chair, including a helpful diagram on how to use it. You could hurt yourself in one of those, if you don’t follow the directions. Then, behind the sex chair are STAIRS. That’s right – this is a deluxe suite with two floors. Upstairs is the bed, with the TV, a fridge (with reasonably priced drinks, unlike any hotel I’ve ever been in.) Off the bedroom is the shower, with a clear glass wall, allowing for a full view of the cleaning going on from the bedroom. 90 degrees from the shower view, is a view of the pool, from above. On the wall was a good sized TV, with limited selection of channels, two of which are dedicated to naked people having sex (isn’t that a prerequisite?) In the interest of variety, one channel had two guys and one girl, the other channel had two girls and one guy.
What happened in the hotel room isn’t really relevant, so I won’t go into that here. I will mention a few things I want to remember. First – it was a blast. Like a sex playground, with pools, lot’s of nudity, and porn on TV. I’d been curious about these since I first set eyes on one, but I never had a chance to go. Secondly, Simone is the (possibly only) conservative Brazilian. Oh, she has a very small bikini, waxes, and carries enough cleavage to shame the average Seattle girl, but that’s about it. She’s conservative, and not that really into trying new things. She says she wants to, but I really don’t think she does. Once you are 36, if you really want to try something new, you’ve already done it, especially if you’ve been married, as she was. Granted, there are exceptions, but it’s gonna be something somewhat interesting. Hers’ weren’t. Lastly, I found that she doesn’t enjoy porn. Granted it was relatively hard core sodomy, but it was kind of funny watch her watch it (which we only did for about 30 seconds, to my chagrin.) Her cries of disgust got in sync with the movie stars cries of pleasure. “ughh” “oooh” “eeww” “aaahhh.” Frankly, it ruined it for me, even though it was funny.
Lunch, which I was very suspicious of, was pretty good. Fish, fried very deep, mashed potatoes, and something else I forget. We showered, with lot’s of scrubbing, and left right about the 3 hour mark (they called to let us know our time was coming to an end.) When you leave, you get your ID back and a spring in your step.