a day and a half in the life of the fonz
disclaimer: safe sex was practiced at all times.
By trade, I am an engineer. Some people will tell you, I am good at what I do. This
makes me a geek by temperament. I don't therefore get laid very often.
The neurologist I work for tossed a challenge in front of me 4 years ago. I was to help
him learn how to optimize a technique for determining brain chemistry in a non-invasive
manner. So I learned the physics necessary, and responded to the challenge in a way that
made the boss happy. I earned single voxel in-vivo proton spectroscopy, and
two-dimensional spectroscopic imaging. This makes me a bigger geek than I was 4 years ago.
but ...
The boss is from Brazil. He has many colleagues in Brazil who want to know what we have
learned. This gets me repeat rips to Brazil with him. What follows is my recollection of
the beginning of my most recent trip.
My friend Reba picked me up at home, to drive me to the airport at 1 p.m. Sunday for the
hour-long trip. Being that I didn't have to be at the airport till 3, that left time for
breakfast and a crossword puzzle at Denny's, then to the airport for the first leg of my
trip, Detroit to New York. Check my bags, and determine that I must claim my bags at
Kennedy airport so I can re-check them for the international leg of my trip, New York to
Sao Paulo.
There are multiple purposes to this trip. First is to install a new computer at the clinic
that is part owned by the boss. Second is to help run a seminar on single voxel in-vivo
proton spectroscopy, and 2 dimensional spectroscopic imaging. Third, to visit 10 other
hospitals carrying the good word. My baggage is over weight. I have a computer, the
documentation for the seminar (attended by 35 doctors, physicists, researchers, and
chemists), my laptop, and clothing for the 3-week trip. It'll be fun lugging it around
multiple airports.
Enter the noise box in Detroit, and exit at New York Kennedy airport.
Claim my baggage; wrestle it out to the street for a quick smoke, then on to a shuttle bus
for the trip to the terminal that handles Japan airlines. Wrestle my baggage up the
escalator, to international check-in, pay the $225 excess baggage fee, get my boarding
pass for business class, and prop my feet to wait for boarding.
Normally I fly coach. The boss however is not covering this trip. My previous employer is
hiring me as a consultant to teach their customers about spectroscopy. Business class is
essential. JAL business class is a treat.
Enter the noise box in New York and exit 10 hours later at Sao Paulo international
airport.
For the next leg of my trip, I don't have a ticket yet. I have a fax with a number on it,
which should get me a pre-paid ticket with proper identification. That flight leaves in 1
1/2 hours. I need to claim my baggage, get through customs, claim my ticket, check my
bags, and find the boarding gate. Thankfully all my bags arrive with me, and I head for
customs.
The computer I am carrying is one I have assembled. It is in a full tower case, and the
box it is in, is the size of a medium suitcase. There are limits as to how much computer
equipment you can bring into Brazil. The max dollar value is $400. The tower in question
is valued at $2200. I have cobbled up a receipt that said $395, which would only pass
cursory inspection.
Customs wants to inspect my baggage.
Wrestle my baggage over to where I am directed, and am instructed to place my large
suitcase in an x-ray machine. In this suitcase is my laptop. They x-ray my suitcase and
ask that I open it. Lying on top is the keyboard that goes with the tower. They seem most
interested in the least expensive part of the computer I am smuggling into the country.
After satisfying themselves that the keys on my keyboard work, they wave me through
without so much as a glance at the tower.
Wrestle my baggage through the airport; up the elevator to the ticketing counters, where I
suddenly realize, I have no idea what airline I will be flying on. I make an assumption
that it is on TAM; because the reservation number begins with a T. My limited Portuguese
gets abused until I realize that TAM is an incorrect choice. Therefore it must be Trans
Brazil.
Get into one line; get to the front, and am directed to another line. Get to the front,
and am directed to another line. Get to the front, and am directed to a fourth line, which
is where I should have gone first, but not many speak English, and all I can do is abuse
Portuguese. But I get my ticket, and get back into the third line, where I check my bags,
and am directed back to the fourth line to pay for excess baggage.
Boarding pass in hand, burning cigarette dangling out of my mouth (perfectly acceptable in
public spaces in Brazil), I head for the boarding area. I get there in time to be the last
person to board the plane, and settle into my seat.
After an hour, the plane starts to make an approach for landing. But not at my
destination, I am informed. Takeoff again, and again an approach for landing. Not my stop
yet. Takeoff again, and the last 6 passengers disembark at Sao Jose do Rio Preto (the
boss's home town). I am met by a driver (who speaks no English) holding a sign that reads
"Dr. Paul" (not bad for a country boy with a BSEE), and off we go to my hotel...
... Which has no record of any reservation for me.
I have a phone number for the people who are paying for this trip, and after making my way
through 4 people who speak no English, but who recognize my name; I get someone who says
they will handle it. An hour later I check in to the hotel for one night, but will have to
change hotels in the morning.
It is now 4:30 Monday afternoon. I never have learned the knack for sleeping on airplanes,
so accounting for the 2 hour time zone difference, it is now 25 1/2 hours since Reba
picked me up to start this trip. It is in the upper 90s here. I am hot, tired, and sweaty
and all I want is a cold beer, and a hot shower, and maybe a quick nap.
The hot shower feels good. A cold beer tastes good. The phone rings.
The boss's nephew is calling to tell me that his dad has a party scheduled for tonight,
and that he will be at the hotel in 2 hours to pick me up.
Time for a quick nap of 90 minutes.
Then it's up and get dressed for a party.
The boss's brother is also a doctor, and should be a full tenured professor at some party
university. This guy is a professional party animal. His son is a chip off the old block.
His cousin (a dentist), and another friend will be there.
I am met by party animal, and party animal jr., and am handed a bottle of Johnny Walker
red. Drink up!
Off we go to a motel.
In Brazil, all motels are no tell motels. The room we get has 2 bedrooms, a living room, a
hot tub, a patio with a small swimming pool, 5 women, food and more liquor.
First we eat. Then we drink, and then the girls start to strip (and you thought this would
be off topic).
Sitting on a couch in the living room, the first girl starts her dance. Her name is
Angela. She is 18. She is the prototypical Latin beauty. Black hair, black eyes, cinnamon
skin, voluptuous curves, and anti gravity units in those oh my god c-cup breasts. Every
move a picture. Her clothes disappear during her version of a samba. After 2 songs, she
walks over to where I am sitting, and holds her hand out to me. I take her hand, and she
leads me through one of the bedrooms to the hot tub, and begins filling it. I take my cue,
and strip. When the tub is full to Angela my angel's satisfaction, we climb in, and I find
myself with my arms around a ticklish, slippery, giggly armload of enthusiastic girl. What
fun. She has satisfied herself that I am clean, and leads me to the bed, where I act like
an 18 year old with her, and work up a lusty sweat, acting out an old man's fantasy.
From the bed to the shower to rinse off, then back to bed.
I've had less than 2 hours sleep in the last 36, have been drinking scotch neat, and now I
find myself in bed with my arm around a lovely girl, her head on my chest, her leg over
mine, and she is playing with the hair on my chest.
I am a happy man.
The cousin bursts into the room, and informs me that the party is out in the living room.
Angela gets up, and leaves. I put my clothes on, and re-enter the world.
There are 9 other people in the living room. I am the only one wearing any clothes. This
situation is quickly rectified, while the others wonder at the total lack of manners
exhibited by their American guest. I am the only one who does not speak Portuguese. This
situation I cannot quickly correct. Angela curls up in my lap, and I am content to observe
this surreal scene in front of me, with my arms around the very definition of cuddly.
Fortunately cuddles need no translation.
The boss's brother says something, out of which I think I pick out "blowjob
contest", and everybody goes back to the bedroom. There is a couple fucking on the
bed, but I find an unused corner, and take a seat. Another girl walks over, drops to her
knees, and makes like I am one of the judges the afore mentioned blowjob contest. Her name
is Magna. She is 21, slim, with coffee and cream skin, and long dark wavy hair, with green
eyes. In a word? Stunning. After a while (time has lost it's meaning) she pushes me back
on the bed, and I realize that it is now un-occupied. As a matter of fact, we have the
room to ourselves. We work up a lusty sweat, just doing what comes naturally. So much
enthusiasm, she wears me out.
I find myself lying on my back, my arm around another young lovely, her leg draped over
mine, her head on my chest. She is playing with the hair on my chest, her warm breath a
pleasant sensation across my nipple.
I am a very happy man.
Angela comes into the room, and Magna says something to her. Angela leaves, only to come
back with a couple glasses of scotch, and my cigarettes. She crawls into bed, opposite
Magna and my hand falls naturally to one of her thighs. She lights a cigarette for me,
feeds me a little scotch, and handles both for me while my hands are left to fondle two
girls who have thoroughly worn me out. Conversation is fortunately unnecessary, because my
Portuguese is limited, and their English non-existent. Feeling like a god is good.
How happy can one man be?
A third girl comes into the bedroom, and finds an empty patch of mattress at my feet. Her
name is Branca. Blonde hair, gray eyes, olive skin, and a rock hard body.
Angela grabs a remote control (where did that come from?), and turns on the TV (never
noticed that before) hanging from the ceiling. 6 porn channels no waiting. The girls are
giggling about the silicone sisters getting fucked from every angle. The cousin
materializes out of
nowhere, and informs me that the girls want to know if I like big titties like that.
Angela is a perfect c-cup. Magna is a perfect b-cup, and Branca is a perfect a-cup. All
natural, so beautiful. I kiss and fondle all six. They seem pleased with my answer, and
continue giggling as some zzz-cup silicone sister gets fucked in the ass by a black
brother, with an impossibly sized cock.
Branca is getting excited down there at my feet. She is letting her fingers do the
walking. She is twisting one of her nipples. She is moaning, and arching her back. Her
fingers just aren't cutting it. There is a cock less than 3 feet away. She starts sucking
it. Oh my god, it's mine. She strokes it. She causes a miracle to happen. I'll have to
call it Lazarus, cuz surely it has risen from the dead. Branca climbs aboard, and starts
riding for all she is worth. She is riding with a fury I am unaccustomed to. Easy there
girl, I only have one of those, and I don't want you to break it. She rides until she is
out of breath, climbs off, and gets on all fours. Angela and Magna help me up, move me
into position, and help me fuck her some more. Even with their help, I am no match for the
wild woman in front of me. I tire quickly, and collapse back on the bed. I notice that the
girls and I are not alone in this room. The boss's brother and cousin along with another
girl have come in to watch. The brother is groping her tits, and the cousin has his hand
between her legs. The girl appears not to notice their attention. She is watching an old
man get fucked to death. Branca has caught her second wind, and climbs aboard for a second
ride. Either way I turn my head, there is a perfect breast in my face. There are hands
everywhere. A nipple in my mouth becomes a tongue down my throat, and a fresh nipple
replaces the tongue. A surreal tableau with audience. If I am to die of a heart attack,
dear lord let it be now. I'll die in ecstasy. I finish, and Branca collapses on top of me.
Magna to my right, my hand cupping one of her perfect breasts. Angela to my left, my hand
on the soft skin on the inside of her thigh, one of her nipples in my ear. Branca on top,
sweat soaked hair draped across my face, her ragged breath under my chin.
Thank you god for not giving me that heart attack, because I am in heaven here on earth.
After some indeterminate time has passed, the boss's brother says that the party is over,
and we will have to clear out, or pay the no tell motel for the next 6 hours.
The girls peel themselves slowly out of the dog pile that has me happily on the bottom. I
get shakily to my feet, and have to lean on the wall to get dressed. My legs seem
unwilling to support my weight. I feel exhausted. Waiting for things to get organized for
my ride back to the hotel, Magna appears at my side, and seems pleased to find my arm
around her slim waist. I am even more pleased when she climbs into my lap for the ride
back to the hotel. And even more pleased when I find her tongue in my mouth.
She speaks no English, none of the girls did, but some things are universal.
Back to the hotel, I get out of the car, and she follows me into the lobby. Mommy, she
followed me home, can I keep her?
Into the elevator, and her tongue is back in my mouth. Out of the elevator, into my room,
onto the bed, and this girl loves to kiss. I find it to be most enjoyable myself. An
armload of wiggly warm and enthusiastic girl is all the viagra I hope I ever need. My
hands follow the contours of her body, and encounter clothing. Off they come. Off mine
come. Skin on skin, happily embracing. Our mouths find other body parts, enjoyable body
parts. She has a handful of my hair, a firm grip on one ear, and is guiding my tongue to
just what she likes. Harder, softer, deeper, faster, slower. I am lucky to have any hair
left. I really only need one ear to hear. I don't care. She tastes salty sweet. I can't
get enough. We change positions. I don't have to guide her; she is doing just fine without
direction. This is a high that drugs can't approach. We embrace again, and begin making
love in earnest.
Time is irrelevant. Both exhausted, both sated, we are in the spoon position. My arm over
the top of her, my hand cupping one perfect breast, my nose in her hair.
My leg is going to sleep. I need to roll over. She grabs my arm, and won't let me break
the embrace. I place my hand back on her breast. Morning light is beginning to creep in
the window to my room. We sleep.
I don't know how long that last session lasted, but when we woke up the next morning, the
bed had traveled 5 feet across the room, and rotated 90 degrees. I was proud of myself.
She got first crack at the shower, and as she was leaving, wrote her phone number on a
piece of paper. With a big smile, and a big kiss, she left.
After my shower, I noticed Magna had left her watch on the bathroom sink.
Maybe she wants me to call her again. |