Feb

2

Carnival Calamity: South America’s Biggest Sex Palace Shutting Down?

Filed Under GFE, Help Discotech, Rio de Janeiro, girlfriend experience, prostitutes, sex tourism, sex travel | 5 Comments

If anything can dampen the mood for sex tourists at Carnival, it’s this: Help Discoteca, Rio de Janeiro’s hooker central, has been targeted for extinction. This huge nightclub across the street from Copacabana Beach is a magnet for working girls and gringos. I’ve met some of the most extraordinary women there, including one who was “off the clock.” Like most of the girls at Help, Bettina was a prostitute. But she wasn’t working that night. Then why was she there, I wondered. Just because a sex professional’s off-duty, she reminded me, she still has certain “needs.” I’m sure any guy there would have volunteered to fill her needs, especially if they knew her price for that night: Zero. I guess my timing was right, though (not to mention the vagaries of “chemistry”), because much to my surprise, Bettina chose me.

We hit it off well enough that we started dating. It’s the only time I had a bonafide romance with a Brazilian prostitute without paying for the first encounter.

Asshole that I am, I fucked up a great relationship by standing Bettina up one night. By that time our relationship had become “normalized” to the point where we would have gone out for dinner/drinks, maybe a nice stroll around Copacabana, then return to my apartment for passionate — and here’s the key point – free sex. Instead I opted to blow her off to pay for sex with another girl I knew from Help. I called Bettina the next morning and tried to BS her that I’d gotten too drunk to make the date. But she knew I was full of shit. She told me never to call her again, that I was just going to keep hurting her. She was probably right, of course. One of the reasons I’d become such a dedicated sex tourist was my inability to sustain “normal” relationships. Not that I was really into cheating on my girlfriends. Just that once things settled into a reliable pattern, the original electricity was gone. Rio became a refuge — a never-ending parade of hot women available for sex at relatively bargain-basement prices. With so many to choose from, how could you ever get bored? The conundrum for me, though, is that I like the idea of romance, of building something substantial with a woman. And I don’t care if she’s a Harvard-educated doctor, or a Brazilian prostitute. As long as there’s chemistry.

But I digress. According to Brazzil Magazine, Rio’s governor has expropriated Help’s building and intends to use it for the city’s Museum of Image and Sound. This is a shattering development to those of us who consider Help one of those magical bridges between earth and Paradise.