The two shapely women, Helen and Carlotta, remained in Conference One. Helen wore her uniform. Carlotta wore her stockings, leaving unclothed everything that a man would like to see – her pert up tilted breasts, her dark neat bush, her slender but adequate hips, her firm buttocks, her odd but attractive face.

Looking at her more closely, Helen saw more than Latin in her face. Behind the olive skin and along the cheekbones lay a hint of ancient native blood. Carlotta had had an ancestor among the tribes of South America who built great temples and engaged in human sacrifice and the deflowering of virgins with stone lancets known as the lingams of the Gods.

Carlotta strolled to the bar. Helen found the view of her back and her swaying buttocks quite disturbing. The long black stockings looked like something left over from an indescribable debauch.

Carlotta went to the bar, made two margaritas. Not everyone has seen a super-naked woman work at a bar. The effect is fascinating. Carlotta knew this. She knew, too, that she was not fascinating a man but fascinating a woman. This required technique.

Carlotta was simply a Buenos Aires specialty – a woman who knew how to take care of all the varieties of sex.

You name it, she supplied it. But although, on occasion, she might round up a corps of girls to provide some bored rich man with a bacchanal, she preferred more intimate scenes. Whatever was to be done along the highways and byways of sex she preferred to supply by herself.