[This is the text--minus a few editorial changes in the magazine version--of my article in the March 2008 Hustler.]

Huster Magazine sex tourism

You’re sipping a martini at a tiki bar surrounded by palm trees, a blazing orange sun setting in the distance. A pair of stunning Latinas with nothing but towels around their waists are entertaining you. Their caramel-colored skin glistens and their nipples rub against you as they nibble on your ear and molest you through your bathing suit. You fucked one of these dark-haired temptresses last night, though all that free booze makes it hard to remember which one. No problem. You can refresh your memory an hour from now, when you’re fucking both of them. Read more

[Here's the text of an article I wrote for now-defunct Rockstar Magazine]

How would you like to be fucking girls as hot as the ones in this magazine? I’m not offering you a course in self-esteem or a bunch of “surefire” pick-up lines? My solution is more basic: Dive prick-first into the flesh markets of Rio de Janeiro.rio sex tourism article Read more

[This was my first article on Rio (minus a few editorial changes in the magazine version), originally published in Hustler Magazine in Nov. 2004. Here's the published version, if you prefer.]Huster Magazine sex tourism

Forget that giant statue of Jesus welcoming you to Rio de Janeiro. (It’s a wonder the Vatican hasn’t ordered it airlifted to a saintlier place, like Vegas.) A monument to Heidi Fleiss would be a better symbol of what awaits you.

From its beaches to its business district, Rio is one huge legal brothel. And we’re not talking crack-whores. Gorgeous “garotas de programa” (”program girls,” Brazilian slang for hookers) are yours for the taking. Read more

[This originally ran Jan. 2005 in Oui Magazine where I was doing a monthly column, "Adventures of an Average Joe." Some of the links might be outdated.]

The Christmas season is a strange time for a porn journalist. Everything is a run-up to the Adult Video News convention/awards in Vegas in early January. I call it “Sexpo” for short. Rolls off the tongue so easily, like vaginal dew drops from Goddess of Gush Cytherea’s slit. (Smart-asses will note that Sexpo is already taken as the name of Australia’s big adult-industry gathering. Hey, if it’s good enough for those sheep-fuckers, it’s good enough for me.) Read more

[This is the text -- minus a few editorial changes in the magazine version -- of my article on sex tourism in Costa Rica in the Summer 2007 issue of Karma Magazine. The published version's here.]

Costa Rica Sex Tourism article

“I’m not here for nature hikes or bird-watching,” says Jerry, a 27-year-old architect from Cleveland. “I’m here for one thing only—screwing.”

“Here” is San Jose. Not the one in California (coincidentally, the city where Karma Magazine has its headquarters and legendary Friday-afternoon orgies). But the capital of Costa Rica—one of Latin America’s most prosperous countries, and a place famed for its ecotourism. Costa Rica draws about a million visitors a year with its beaches, rain forest, volcanoes and diverse wildlife. The capital, though, is a hotbed for mankind’s favorite indoor activity; prostitution is legal, and despite its appeal to sex tourists, 70% of the clientele for prostitutes in Costa Rica are homegrown.
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