Ouro Preto, MG Brazil – Last night I leave the hostel with my two buddies, one from Seattle and one from San Fran, with a bottle of Sprite and a bottle of pretty cheap Cachaza. It’s our last night in beautiful Ouro Preto and we want to get some Brazilian honeys back to the hostel later on. There are a couple of parties and a couchsurfing girl who wants to meet up, so options galore.
First the 3 of us hang out in Plaza Tiradentes, drinking and chilling out, spending 5 reals on some ganja (the guy scammed us by never returning with anything), and working up a little buzz before heading to a party of Braceface, a girl one of the guys had made out with a couple nights earlier.
Out of nowhere the Couchsurfing chick shows up. In her photos she looked kind of manly, but not horrible, and perhaps tip-able. Different story when she shows up. Her mouth is pretty mangled with teeth of every size, and she looks like she could probably kick my ass. I let my buddy who invited her to talk with her.
We walk down the steep hill of a Rua Direita, take a leak in a bar, and as we are collecting ourselves, a pack of girls are walking up hill. So we start saying funny things in English like “Hey y’all players” and “Hello beautiful ladies” and whatever else – we get a little nibble, and bang, the 3 of us are on these girls like vultures on carcass. We each find one or two to start babbling with, and the Argentine Couchsurfer Girl comically disappears. Whoops.
So plans change and we head to a “frat party” in a Republica out here. We walk in, it smells like old beer and I see broken couches. Yes, this is the fraternity life I can recognize from the college parties.
We get in to this side outdoor area with green lazers shooting and popular music blasting and start dancing with our girls. My SF buddy is already ‘apegado’ with his chick, who had straight black hair and a little brown face, and next thing I know they’re making out. Brazilian girls will make out with you in under 5 minutes most of the time. I get a little envious so I dance closer with the girl in the yellow shirt that I had been talking to, and I ask her if she wants a kiss. She does. We make out like two diabetics seeking insulin at the back of eachothers throats for a couple songs. She then backs off to talk/dance with her friends.
The vibe gets lost. Not another makeout night, I think to myself. SF Buddy and I step outside for a ciggy. We talk shit to the “bouncers” and these 2 dudes come to the door, who presumably worked for the police and were stopping the music. So my friend and I get back inside only to find the whole group of girls tending to this major attention whore of the group (who was also the hottest). Fuck this cockblock, I say. The girls all leave except for a few, and this one shorter chick who I earlier exclaimed I was not interested in, sits next to me.
As soon as my first option left, I ask this new girl if she wants to kiss. She does. (What a surprise!) I get her to come with me “to a party.” This ends up being my pousada.
Long story short, I get some of the worst resistance ever from this totally average girl. It takes like an hour to get her top off. I take two steps forward one back until I’m guiding her hand to my neglected member. Eventually she’s down there, I give her a little attention as well, we bone briefly, very briefly, and I pull out to decorate her babylons – when she grabs me down there and tells me not to shoot on her! What the fack! My right nut was throbbing after that, and if this was Grand Theft Auto, I would have taken her outside and run her over with a stolen car.
I got the flag though, and that’s what matters. Get out of the drought and back into Pusslandia. Carnaval is less than one week. It’s going to be fucking crazy. I just better get some easier puss that doesn’t talk about how much it hurts or who doesn’t have enough self lube and makes me waste my one(!) packet on. For the many strains of herp that are sure to greet me, I need some warm folds in return.
Bless you and have a great day. I’m off to Tiradentes.
