I'd read about this area for what seemed to be years. It's become one of the most famous – or infamous, depending upon your viewpoint – areas for prostitution in the United States, and I finally got the opportunity to visit.
It was a beautiful early spring afternoon, the sky was partly cloudy and the temperature was in the mid-60's – a perfect day for the streetwalkers to be out and about. I'd managed to leave the trailer over at the truckstop, and was slowly cruising the street – looking at the sights, seeing who was out and about, and watching for the omnipresent police.
A couple of women are walking down the street – they're not especially attractive, but they're not unattractive either. They don't look like drugged out crack whores, but they don't look like movie stars either – just a couple of average women, apparently not working girls. I cruise by some motels on the street – they're not the big chain motels, they're the smaller independent motels - but there aren't any girls out and about near them either. A couple of apartment complexes are nearby, along with the usual strip-mall type businesses, but there's nothing that seems extraordinary – no adult bookstores, no topless bars, nothing. I'm beginning to wonder if I'm in the right location, or if the street is just quiet during the daytime.
There's a mini-mart on the corner, and as I pull into the parking lot a transit bus stops at the bus stop. I walk into the store and buy myself a cold soda, and as I walk back out I notice an exotic-looking woman standing beside the bus stop. Caramel complexion, long dark hair with lighter streaks, wearing a denim jacket, tight-fitting jeans... and she'll never have to worry about drowning because she's got one hell of a set of built-in floatation devices!
I try not to be too obvious as I ogle her while I walk back to the truck, but I can't help staring at her. She's maybe 5'6" tall, about 140 pounds, and built like a brick shithouse in Oklahoma! She notices me looking her way and turns towards me. She doesn't say anything, but very imperceptibly nods her head. I casually nod my head in reply, and she walks over towards me.
"Need a ride?" I suggest as she strolls over and I open the door.
She climbs in, and I quickly climb in the driver's side. I start the truck, pull out onto the street, and begin heading down the street again.
"What's your name?" she asks.
"Jeff. And yours?"
"I'm Adela," she replies.
"Pleased to meet you Adela. Where are you going?"
"Nowhere for now. I was just out for some fresh air and trying to make a little money. You're not a cop are you?" she inquires.
"No, I'm not a cop. I'm not even from here; I'm from Missouri. You're not a cop are you?" I ask her in return.
"No."
"Show me something a cop wouldn't show me." I tell her. I know she's not the police - cops never get into the vehicle – I just want to see those titties!
She gracefully lifts up her sweater, and shows me a pair of the largest titties I've ever seen! Big round titties which are a nice rich caramel color, with cocoa brown areola and long, suckable nipples that are sticking straight out.
"Are you cold or just glad to see me?" I ask with a chuckle.
"Spend some money with me and I'll be very glad to see you!" she laughs as she pulls her sweater down.
"I can do that," I say with a grin. "What do you charge?"
"What do you want?"
"How about a half and half?"
"Sixty dollars," is her answer.
"Sixty is fine," I tell her. "There's an HQ home improvement store just down the street that I saw earlier. We can pull in there and park."
"OK," she says. "That'll do. So, Jeff, where are you from?"
"St. Louis," I reply. "And you?"
"Montevideo."
"Montevideo... that's... uhhh... Brazil? No, wait... it's... Paraguay?"
"Close. It's Uruguay."
"Wow, you're a long ways from home. How'd you end up here?" I ask as we pull into the parking lot.
"My ex-husband was in the Air Force," she replies. "We got divorced about three months ago, and I'm trying to make ends meet."
I find a parking spot away from the main building, and well away from any other parked cars. Most stores don't say anything about a big truck parking on their lot, as long as you don't park too close to the building. I've made enough deliveries to this particular chain of stores to know their policy on truck parking, and we shouldn't be bothered.
I sit for a half minute or so and watch the parking lot to make sure no police, pimps, angry boyfriends, store employees, or anyone else is headed our way - but all's well. I pull the curtains closed over the windshield and reach for my wallet as I stand up. I hand Adela three twenty-dollar bills, and move toward the bunk in the back of the truck. Adela stands up, tucks the bills into her pants pocket, and takes her jacket off. She gets undressed in the front as I get undressed in the back, and soon we're both wearing nothing more than our underwear – hers being a pair of silky peach-colored panties.
As she stands up, her titties jiggle from side to side, and I'm amazed by their size. They must be at least 46D's - if not bigger – and there isn't a bit of sag in them. They're not implants, they're the real deal, and I can't wait to get my hands on them!