Bad Review, Good Boy

Bogota, Colombia. 11:20 a.m. One hundred and forty thousand pesos. Ninety-three minutes on camera.

All characters are 18 or older. Fiction.

I was twenty, and twenty is old enough to know exactly what a bad review costs. The rating came in at three point two. I saw it before I got home, sitting on the kerb with the rain still coming off my jacket, and I sat there for a while doing nothing. Three point two. One star from a woman in Chapinero who said the soup was cold, which it was not, and two stars from a man who wrote nothing at all, and the five stars I had been given in the tall building near Parque Nacional did not save me. Three point two meant fewer orders. Fewer orders meant the week was already gone.

Watch the uncut tape of this scene → uncut bogota angel files, 18+

So I went back the next morning, early, without an order, with a plastic bag from the pharmacy on Calle 45 that I had bought at eight o'clock while the girl behind the counter looked at the ceiling.

He opened the door in a t-shirt and no shoes and looked at me for a long moment.

"You have no food," he said.

See what the camera actually caught → uncut bogota angel files, 18+

"No, senor."

"And yet you are here at eleven in the morning." He stepped back. "Shoes."

I took off my shoes. The apartment looked different in daylight, bigger and more ordinary, a plant on the windowsill that needed water, a stack of paper on the table beside the black briefcase. He went to the kitchen and put the kettle on and did not ask me anything, and that was worse than questions. I stood in the middle of the room holding the pharmacy bag.

Open the full Angel of Bogota episode → uncut bogota angel files, 18+

"You saw the rating," he said at last, with his back to me.

"Si."

"I left five stars. And a comment. I said the rain was not your fault." He turned around. "The arithmetic of that app is not my business."

Stream the uncut version (18+) → uncut bogota angel files, 18+

"It was three point two this morning."

"Ah." He poured the water. "So you have come to be reviewed again."

I put the bag on the table. He looked at it, then at me, and something moved in his face that was not quite a smile. He reached over and opened it and took out the bottle and read the label with the flat patience of a man checking a receipt.

The video behind this story → uncut bogota angel files, 18+

"Extra lubricante," he said. "You came prepared."

"I thought, if you wanted, again. Not for the money. Or, yes, for the money, but not only." My ears were hot. "I have thought about it since Tuesday. All week. I did not do my routes properly."

"Come here."

See the hour the camera kept → uncut bogota angel files, 18+

I went. He took my chin in his hand and turned my face to the window and looked at me the way he had looked at the money.

"Two rules I did not tell you last time," he said. "One. You say stop and it stops, and the money stays yours. Two. You do not lie to me about what you want. Not in this room. Outside, lie to whoever you like."

"Si."

Watch the uncut tape of this scene → uncut bogota angel files, 18+

"Tell me what you want."

I had never said it out loud. Not to a priest, not to my cousin, not to the girl at the pharmacy. I said it looking at the plant on the windowsill, and my voice was so low he made me say it twice.

He nodded. Then he counted out one hundred and forty thousand pesos and put it under the corner of the briefcase and set up the phone on the counter, and I understood that the amount had gone up because he had decided the hour would be longer, and that this was how he did things, without discussion.

See what the camera actually caught → uncut bogota angel files, 18+

"Take everything off and lie on the bed," he said. "Face down. I want to see your back."

The bed was low and the sheets were clean and smelled of nothing. I lay there with my cheek on my arm and heard him moving behind me, the briefcase latch, a drawer, the small click of the bottle. His hand landed flat between my shoulder blades, warm and heavy, and stayed there.

"Breathe out," he said.

Open the full Angel of Bogota episode → uncut bogota angel files, 18+

I breathed out. He worked the oil into my back first, unhurried, shoulders and spine and the small of it, and by the time his fingers went lower I was already hard against the sheet and trying to hide it, and he told me not to hide anything in this room, and I stopped trying.

"Open your knees."

He did it slowly. That is the thing nobody believes when I tell them. The Angel of Bogota had a reputation in the group chat for being quick and cold and gone, and he was quick and cold and gone at the door, but between the door and the door he was the most patient man I have ever been under. One finger, then two, then the flat of his hand pressing, and every time I tensed he stopped and waited and said nothing at all until I let go.

Stream the uncut version (18+) → uncut bogota angel files, 18+

"Ready?" he said.

"Si. Si, senor."

He went in with his hand on my hip and his weight coming down through it, and it was too much and then it was not, and I heard myself make a sound into the pillow that I have never made before. He set a rhythm that was almost lazy. Long and slow and all the way, and on every stroke his hips pressed flat against me and stayed there for a second, and I could count them, and I lost count.

The video behind this story → uncut bogota angel files, 18+

"Talk to me," he said.

"What do I say?"

"Anything true."

See the hour the camera kept → uncut bogota angel files, 18+

"It feels good." My voice was wrecked. "It feels so good, senor, I am sorry, I cannot..."

"Nobody is apologising in this room today." He pulled me up onto my knees with an arm across my chest, my back against him, and the change of angle made me grab at the sheet. His mouth was at my ear. "There. Stay there. Do not touch yourself."

He fucked me like that for a long time, one arm holding me up, and I stopped being able to form sentences and just made noise, and at the end he pushed me down flat and finished with his forehead against my shoulder blade, breathing hard, which was the first human thing I had heard him do.

Watch the uncut tape of this scene → uncut bogota angel files, 18+

Then he got up and brought a cloth and a glass of water, and sat on the edge of the bed while I drank it.

"Ninety-three minutes," he said, looking at the phone. "You were early and you were honest. That is worth more than the app knows how to count." He took the money from under the briefcase and put it in my hand and closed my fingers around it. "Next time do not buy the lubricante. I have it. Save your money."

"Next time?"

See what the camera actually caught → uncut bogota angel files, 18+

"You will come back." He stood and pulled on his trousers. "They all come back. That is the trouble with this arrangement and also the only reason it works."

At the door he stopped me with one hand on the frame. "The rating will recover," he said. "It always recovers. Go and deliver your soup."

I went down the stairs with the money in my sock and the bottle in my bag, and I have not opened the bottle. In the group chat they still argue about whether the Angel of Bogota is real. I have stopped arguing. I know what the file says, even if I have never seen the file.

Open the full Angel of Bogota episode → uncut bogota angel files, 18+

File closed. Subject paid in full. Camera card retained.