About this Sex Tourism blog (AKA, What the Hell is this?)

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Life Is Electric…

I’ve been a dedicated sex tourist since 2003. In other words, I love fucking foreign hookers, especially in Brazil. Not that I like paying for sex. But the working girls I’ve met have blown me away. It’s a long way from my conservative roots as a yeshiva boy and later an advocate for tougher anti-crime laws. I’d always considered the idea of paying for sex repellent. At least until my first trip to Rio de Janeiro. It turned my world upside down. Now I’d marry the right Brazilian hooker in a heartbeat. (Of course I’m so commitment-phobic, finding the “right” girl seems unlikely.)

In recent years I’ve written extensively about my experiences with sex tourism for Hustler, Maxim, and other magazines. I’ve been to Rio de Janeiro about a dozen times. I’ve also enjoyed sexcapades in the Dominican Republic and Costa Rica.

This blog exists to give you a titillating glimpse at “alternative possibilities” regarding sex and romance. I have no desire to shove my outlook on sex tourism in the face of anyone with moral objections to prostitution. There are good reasons why many people consider the world’s oldest profession immoral. Many prostitutes lead lives of inconceivable pain, trapped in a spiral of drugs, disease and abuse. But other working girls are as grounded as you and me (hopefully more than me, because I’m a fucking basket case) and they’re comfortable with their profession.

In an ideal world, sex travel (or at least the “pay for play” part of it) wouldn’t exist. Everyone would get all the sex they want with whom they want whenever they want. But if you’re an average Joe like me, and you want to fuck gorgeous women, they might not be as readily available as often as we’d like.

Thus as I learned on my first trip to Rio, sex tourism and “pay for play” are viable options. Let me make it clear: The only sex travel I’m interested in is the legal kind, involving consenting adults. Prostitution is legal in many places outside the U.S. (and of course in parts of Nevada). I have no desire to break any laws in my quest for orgasms or intimacy. Rio (you’ll learn fast that I talk about Rio ad nauseam; hey, they don’t call me Rio Joe for nothing) is one huge legal brothel, an erotic dreamworld where girls with porn-star looks and blistering passion can be yours for the night for about the cost of a date back home.