It was my second night in my new city. I had a Tinder date lined up at 5:30 and plans to head out later in the evening. The girl seemed open to sex. Fluent in English, she had a penchant for gringos. I figured I could smash and bang her out quick. Then head out around 10:00 to meet up with a friend and find more girls. I forgot one small detail…
As such, I got a text a half hour before the date postponing it until 7:00. Fuck it. Still, I figured I could meet her, down some drinks, and get her on my bed before 11:00. This would give me enough time to meet up with my friend and go out. Dating is more of an art than a science, but I figured four hours would be more than enough to seal the deal and kick her out.
She had other plans. We met at a small bar and started downing beers. The conversation was easy, as she was fluent in English and more in-tune with American pop culture than I was. She was a Gringa in the body of a Colombiana, although she was much sweeter than your average white girl. Oh, and she had that ass 😉
We started to get drunk, and I began to like this girl. She wasn’t the cutest (although she was quite good looking), but she was nice, hardworking and intelligent. If she were born in the states, she would have had a nice career and probably had been married by now. Instead, she was looking for work and gringo hunting. I couldn’t help but think that we all just play the cards we’re dealt – to the best of our abilities.
A few beers down and we’re both feeling tipsy. So we bounce over to a shot bar and down a few shots of fake absinthe. I’m running low on cash, so I tell her we need to walk back to my place for a minute, but she catches my drift and quickly puts up some, “I’m not a slut” chatter. I calm her nerves with a little flirting, and we head back. She’s reluctant, but holding my hand as we walk.
We get to the crib, and I ease her in. I’m thinking maybe I can get her to stay. I let her relax a bit and grab my cash. Put on a little music and poor a glass of wine. She wants to go to a club nearby, but it’s 9:00 at night. I tell her no one will be there for at least two hours. She knows this is true, but doesn’t like it one bit. Bachata comes on, and I pull her out of her seat to dance.
Her face was one of confusion. Blood had clearly rushed to her nether regions, but her mind was still saying, “NOOOO!.” She wanted to dance. She wanted to fuck. Right then and there, but her mind was on overdrive. She was nervous. She didn’t want to give it up on the first date, but she accepted my dance. And even though I have two left feet, she was getting hornier and hornier with each song.
After a few more songs, I pulled her in and kissed her. She enthusiastically accepted for 30 seconds before pushing me away. She was struggling so much with her internal conflict that she could even verbalize it. “No! No! I can’t. We can’t. We need to go to the club now. Please. Please. Right now,” she begged and pleaded. I laughed and sat back down to drink more wine.
“There won’t be anybody there yet. Let’s stay here for another hour and then we can go,” I suggest. She’s having none of it. I can tell she’s really trying here, but that I would get what I wanted in the end. So I conceded. It was in the bag, but she was so stressed about fucking so quick that I put on the brakes for a minute. We finished out wine and kissed a bit more. Then we headed to the club.
The Empty Club
Five minutes later and we were in the club. Two of ten people in a giant club. Music blaring, but there were no bodies moving. I laughed at her, “This is all your fault.” She laughs and punches my shoulder. We grab a drink, and slowly people start to show up. She loves to dance, and we grind to reggaeton for a half hour or so. Now I’m horny. That ass was quite nice.
Drinks, dancing and a little making out continue for the next couple hours. I tell my friend to meet me here, but he’s on a date of his own and trying to close. It’s nearing midnight, and I’m getting bored. Unless she wants to fuck, I’m about to head to bed. Five hours of drinking takes a toll on a man. We head out to the balcony to talk and get some fresh air.
I tell her I’m tired. She claims not to be. I don’t have energy for games at this point, so I just lay it out, “Do you want to spend the night?” I see her wheels turning. “Yes, but we’re not having sex.” I agreed, “I’m too tired to have sex, anyway.” She’s looking me in the eye to see if I’m lying and I can’t help, but smirk. She knows what’s up, “Ok, but let’s dance one more song.” Fine.
Back to the Crib
We dance and make our way back to the crib. She keeps telling me how we’re not having sex. Ok, babe. I’m genuinely tired enough to just go to sleep and fuck her in the morning. We get inside, and I get ready for bed. She asks to take a shower, which means I’m getting laid. I lay down and almost pass out before I feel hands across my back.
She starts massaging me and I roll over. We start to kiss. She’s in her underwear. My hands run over her body and make their way down low. She’s dripping wet. I start fingering her, and she moans. She starts getting louder and louder. I whisper in her ear, “But we’re not having sex.” Another moan and she grabbed my dick. Drunk and horny – I’ve been ready for awhile.
I rip off her underwear and bra before grabbing a condom. I pull her up and ram my dick down her throat. She gagged as she began blowing me. I throw her back on the bed, put the condom on and plunge inside her sopping wet pussy. I expected a moan. I got a screaming, “OHHH FUCKKKK!” Nails dug into my back. I got to work, and her screams got louder.
I threw her legs over my shoulders and covered her face with a pillow. She was getting a little too loud. I didn’t want my new neighbors to wake up. The pillow could only do so much. The girl had to breathe. Eventually, I just gave up. She’s a screamer. What can a guy do?
We fucked three times that night. One raw. And she was just as loud every single time. My ego loved it. Plus, her ass was fantastic. My neighbors, on the other hand, didn’t see so excited at the prospect of my sexual prowess. We kept trying to go to sleep after sex, but just ended up waking up to fuck thirty minutes later.
Eventually, she said, “I’m going to go. I can’t really take anymore sex, and it’s clear we’re not going to sleep anytime soon.” I laughed and agreed. She got dressed, and I called her an Uber. No harm, no foul. It was about 2:00 in the morning. I walked her to the Uber and kissed her. Then off she went.
The Neighbors Know My Name
I’m no Trey Songz, but the neighbors definitely know my name. After she had left, I took a quick shower to clean as the fluids off me. Then I passed out. I woke up late in the morning and made my way to the sink. I wasn’t hungover, but I needed some water. Downing my glass, I turned around to see a piece of paper near my front door. I walked over and grabbed it to find:
“Si nos van a despertar con sos que jidor mientras tienen sexo cerciorense de hacerlo bien…si no dejen dormir”
Which roughly translates to:
“If you’re going to wake us up with your sex noises, then makes sure you are doing it well…if no, let us sleep.”
So my neighbors had jokes, but in their defense – she was insanely loud. All in all, just another adventure in the grown man’s candy land that is Colombia.