Around the World in 80 Girls: The Epic 3 Year Trip of a Backpacking Casanova

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Around the World in 80 Girls: The Epic 3 Year Trip of a Backpacking Casanova Page 41

by Neil Skywalker


  I had another make-out with a MILF at the bar. She only spoke a few words of English, was around thirty-eight and I was wearing beer goggles – though, I must say she looked quite sexy in her black dress. She gave me her phone number and I told her I’d text her. Overall I had a good time at Scuna, approached a lot of girls and had three make-outs.

  I lived in a hostel just a stone’s throw away from Club El Divino, apparently the most expensive club in town and where all the hot girls go. It’s at least twenty-five dollars just to get in so I just went there to see what was happening on the street outside. A guy was selling hotdogs from the modified back of his car and I bought one. I sat down next to a hot girl and asked her if she spoke English and she actually spoke it very well. We had a fun conversation and things were going well until some drunken Brazilian guys start cock-blocking me, first by trying to talk to me and being annoying, later by shouting to the girl: “Are you going to fuck him?” “Fuck fuck fuck” and other stuff like that. This totally ruined the fun mood and she called the guys imbeciles and they left. I couldn’t do much because they were a group of five and I’m not getting my ass kicked over this.

  The girl actually lived straight across my hostel and we walked back there and had some fun and jokes along the way. A guy tried to pick her up, saying he wanted to practice his English with me; I tried to ignore him as much as possible and the asswipe just asked the girl for her phone number, which she gave him easily. Guys were straight-up direct about approaching girls while they were with another dude. I had never seen this before in any country. I got her phone number two minutes later in front of the gate of her building. It didn’t mean much to me, since she’d given her number so easily to the cock-block. She said she had to work till late in the evening the next day and that I should call her. I wanted to kiss her but she kept a distance. After this she said I could call her but shouldn’t expect a kiss or a fuck if we meet up. I remembered the girl in Quito who said the same and assumed that if she can only meet at ten in the evening and already says stuff like “don’t expect to kiss or fuck”, it’s a waste of time to even call her.

  The next night I was planning to go to a place recommended by the guy working in the hostel. The club was called Mara Alta and it was kind of Brazilian country music club. He said I would be the only foreigner there and he would come with me, translate for me with the girls and take care of transport with his mom’s car. Erik was a nice guy to talk to but by that evening he had some excuse not to come anymore. I took my losses and returned to the MILF club.

  I texted the MILF from the day before who spoke a bit of English and she agreed to meet me there. I guessed that on a Saturday night out this would be my chance for my first Brazilian lay inside the country. Boy, was I wrong; the long hard struggle for Brazilian notches only got started. I didn’t see the MILF inside club Scuna and the first hour was kind of boring. Then I met three MILFs at the bar. One was super-fat so no way I was going to be with her. The other two were different but attractive in their own way. One had a few pounds too many but they were all at the right places, a giant round ass and a nice pair of knockers. The third was tiny and skinny, around forty judging by her face, but she had a workout stomach and a small but round and super-firm ass.

  To make a long story short, I kissed the short one and couldn’t stop squeezing her ass, which felt like it belonged to a teenager. She tried to stop me from doing it but I just kept on going. She stayed, so she was interested. The MILF from the day before finally showed up, very late. She saw me talking to the three others and walked over to talk to me. I had to make a split-second decision on which woman to stay with.

  I choose the tiny MILF with the round butt and brushed the other one off, saying she was an hour late and that I’d been waiting for her. She was clearly disappointed and I saw her alone the rest of the night.

  Of course, it turns out I made the wrong choice, because at the end of the night the tiny MILF went home with her friends and I probably could have banged the one from the night before. I didn’t care much, though, because the only reason I went to the MILF club was because it was cheaper and easier than going to El Divino, a high-end club with stunning hot but very snobby girls. My predictions for that place were that I would talk to young hot girls there but that as soon as they found out I was a poor backpacker, they would ditch me. As I said, it costs around twenty-five to forty dollars just to get in depending on the night and drinks are expensive. I didn’t go there, but maybe I should have given it a shot.

  I texted the tiny MILF the next day that I had to leave but would be back in a few days for the Blumenau Oktoberfest. She wanted to see me. I never went back but that’s another story.

  Brazil – São Paulo

  In São Paulo I stayed in a hostel called Limetime or something similar. If you ever stay there, look for my writing on the wall. One of the other guests was an Italian guy who was going around the world without flying and was planning on doing South America on a moped, breaking a world record.

  I cleaned myself up from the long bus ride and went to have lunch with Charlize. It was great to see her again. It had been almost half a year and I was looking forward to seeing her again for a while. When we’d said goodbye, I had promised she would see me again and she said I could stay in her house during my stay in São Paulo. For all those months of travelling through several countries my mind had been set on that. Not only would it save me money but most important, I really liked to be with her. A month or two before I met her again she told me she had a boyfriend in São Paulo, and I couldn’t stay with her. I couldn’t blame her, it’s not like I’d been sitting on my hands in the past months and she knew that. I was highly disappointed nonetheless.

  During lunch we reminisced about our time together in Argentina, but when I tried some subtle flirting she said that she was serious with her boyfriend and couldn’t do anything with me.

  In the evening she invited me over to her place to have dinner and watch some TV. I thought I would “get lucky” this time but she stayed loyal to her boyfriend (some hard rock dude). I could see she was struggling with it though, and she was nearly crying after the bombardment of sweet-talking and charming I fired upon her. A bit of cuddling was all I get out of it.

  The next weekdays I saw her three times again for lunch but couldn’t manage to get a grip on her. In the meanwhile I was going out with people from the hostel and did some sightseeing during the day.

  Most nights I went out to Augusta Street, which was full of clubs. I still had a hard time with Brazilian girls. I managed to kiss quite a few but couldn’t pull them to a motel.

  On Tuesday I went to a meeting of the travel website people, which was boring.

  At one time when I was smoking outside the bar with a few people from the meeting a small group of Brazilians got talking with us. One girl was very young and attractive. She had pinkish-blonde hair and a small body with good curves. Unfortunately she didn’t speak a word of English.

  The whole group of travelers and connected locals went to a nearby club called Vegas. The good thing about going out with a group of people who don’t know each other well is that when the group spreads out over the club, you constantly run into people you barely know, but to an outsider you look like the guy who knows everyone inside. I met a hard rock guy inside the club who spoke excellent English and that was just what I needed. I’d already made contact with several girls but wanted to keep my options open.

  I took the English-speaking guy to the pink/blonde girl and asked him to translate literally for me. The next few sentences were incredible romantic nonsense and the guy asked if I was serious. I told him just to translate. Once he was finished the girl looked at me and said to him in Portuguese, “I want to go to a dark spot and kiss him”.

  I took her by the hand and that’s just what I did, kiss her. To my surprise she was a really good kisser, I even dare to say she was the best kisser ever. Her lips were big and wet. She made all the right movements and I lo
ved it. I had kissed a ton of girls on my trip but this girl was prize-winning at it. When the club closed I tried to get her to a motel but she declined and gave me her phone number. I texted the next evening in Portuguese but never got a reply. Flakiness is top notch in Brazil.

  Side note: This girl kissed so well that half a year later, when I was already back home, I tried to get in touch with her again. I gave her name, phone number and picture to eight people I knew in São Paulo and they tried to get in touch with her, but I never heard anything back. Maybe she doesn’t have the same number anymore, or she gave me a wrong number. That actually never happened to me that I’m aware of, but I heard some guys complain about it before. I still think about her sometimes. You always want what you can’t have.

  Later in the week I met another online girl, a Russian/Finnish girl who studied and worked as a translator in São Paulo and was a rock and roll girl. I met her for a few beers in a bar close to Augusta Street and did some of my best date game. I could see that she was attracted to me. She sat really close to me and my touching was warmly welcomed. We went out for a smoke and that’s when I kissed her. She couldn’t stop smiling at me. We walked back to her apartment but I couldn’t get up to her room. Damn, better luck next time, I thought. I told her that I was going home but went straight to a club where I met a few girls, but nothing happened that night besides some kissing. The next night I went out for drinks with Rock and Roll Girl again. We kissed more heavily and this time I could kiss her perfectly shaped boobs, but nothing more. She was about to go on a one-month trip through South America and I had one more chance to bone her and get my Finnish flag. She was damn hot and I wanted to go for it.

  The last night out with her was terrible. I packed my backpack and dropped it off at her apartment so I could leave the next day for the Oktoberfest in Blumenau. The plan was to go out all night and that I’d would leave in the morning and sleep all day on the bus back to Florianopolis. My real plan of course was to stay in her bed for a few hours, do my thing and then leave.

  So before we went out I put my bag in her room, took a shower and we kissed a bit. When I was kissing her and went for her boobs, she became a bit distant and said she wasn’t an easy girl who had sex on the third date. I might as well have gone back to the hostel because what followed sucked balls.

  We took a bus to a hard rock bar where an Iron Maiden cover band was playing. The band was good but Rock and Roll Girl was distant and drank a lot. We smoked some cigarettes outside the bar and spoke to a few old dudes who were in a Kiss cover band. They obviously liked this pretty girl; twenty-three years old, she had big boobs for her slim body type and great legs. She liked all the attention she got. I had already figured out this was bad news for me.

  A friend of hers showed up, a young Brazilian guy playing in some band. They said they’d been friends for two months now. The guy was all over her and every time I tried some subtle cock-blocking, she just ignored me more. I got pissed off with it and let her know that. She gave me a speech about how she was just friends with the guy and knew he wanted her, but that she was not interested in him. She smiled the same way at him as she did with me on the night I met her. I thought I was maybe paranoid or too focused on banging her.

  At one point the band stopped playing and they wanted to go drink more beer in Augusta Street, where she lived. We argued and I was sick of her. I said I would get my bag and leave. She asked me to stay longer but I couldn’t be around that cock-blocking dickhead anymore. We got in his crappy old car and drove back to her apartment with him still drinking behind the wheel.

  I went to the apartment alone with her and tried to convince her to stay with me up there. The cock-block was waiting downstairs. I kept her up the apartment as long as possible and we agreed to see each other in Prague for New Year’s. She still invited me to drink some more beers with the other guy but I had had enough. I thought, for you, ten others but I was disappointed inside all the same.

  When we walked back downstairs we didn’t see the guy but his car was still there. I walked to the metro station, which was already open, and went to the bus station, still quite drunk. She would start her short South America trip the next day.

  I was stupid to let her convince me that I could take a bus to Florianopolis really early in the morning without checking, because there was actually only one bus, which didn’t leave till noon and would arrive late in the evening. This meant I didn’t have time to go to the hostel and then take a three-hour bus to the Oktoberfest. I hung around the bus station for two hours, not knowing what to do; I had based most of my travel schedule on the Oktoberfest dates. I already missed the Friday night and I would miss the Saturday night too. I decided not to go there at all and was disappointed about it all. If I’d decided that earlier I could have stayed longer in Colombia and Uruguay to keep my flag chase going, or see some of the natural beauty there.

  I sent a message to Rock and Roll Girl and went back to the hostel. I looked up as much as I could about the Octoberfest in Blumenau, something I should have done before I based half my travel schedule on it. I found out that the reason most Brazilian guys like it is because they go there with large groups of friends to drink beer and have bro-fun, not to chase girls. Sure, there will be some guys getting laid or making out, but it will be super hard to pick a girl up there while having not even a place to stay nearby. I was glad I didn’t go after all and stayed for a few extra days in São Paulo.

  In the late afternoon, she still hadn’t replied to my message or added me on Facebook like she said she would. It pissed me off because it filled me with thoughts of her being with that other guy. I never heard from her again, so I’ll never know. I didn’t know I still had so much jealousy in me.

  I met an American/Filipino guy named Andrei in the hostel and we went out with a group to Club Vegas that Saturday night. There was an annoying English guy in the hostel group who tried to get with some girls there but got nowhere. He was such an annoying beta dork; I couldn’t stand him and his stupid snobby English accent. Seeing him humiliating himself in front of girls made me vomit.

  That night I took a Brazilian girl named Leia, a hot Mary-Kate Olsen lookalike, all the way from the other floor to the spot where he and the hostel people were at, just to kiss her right in front of him. Suffer, dude!

  We kissed all night and I couldn’t stop touching her ass, which was to die for. But it stayed with kissing and I couldn’t get her outside and away from her girlfriends.

  There was a cute Slovakian girl in the hostel group; the dork had tried everything to get with her. Talking for hours with her about travelling, school, work and avoiding all flirting and being the listening ear and gentleman.

  That Monday night, we got into three taxis to go the D-Edge club, and I was in the taxi with Andrei, the Slovakian girl and the English beta.

  The beta was cock-blocking me, he knew everything better than me and kept interrupting the conversations.

  Although he was young, he was bald as a cue ball. I suddenly asked the girl which shampoo she used and we talked about our long hair. Saying “I love my long hair” and stroking my fingers through it shut him up for a while.

  Now, the Slovakian girl was cute but also a bore. I saw soon that no-one would get her in the end. Well, on to the Brazilian girls. I kissed a cute 19-year-old girl in the Edge club and approached several others.

  D-Edge is a place with a giant roof where everyone comes to smoke or hang out. An ideal place to meet girls. I hardly saw the dance floor or the others from the hostel. I was hanging out with the Filipino guy and we met Miss Brazil 2001 at the end of the night. She was there with her boyfriend, who was stupidly drunk. Although she won the title ten years ago, you could still see she used to be very hot. We took some pictures together. I looked her up on the Internet the next day and it was really her: Juliana Borges. She was quite controversial those days due to false rumors about seventeen plastic surgery operations before taking the title of Miss Brazil.

&n
bsp; Charlize had asked me to go to the cinema with her. At first I agreed to go with her but sent a text later that it would bring back too many memories of the cinema where I kissed her for the first time. She was disappointed.

  I planned to leave on Wednesday night and Charlize wanted to say goodbye. We met in a dining place close to her house and she drank some Smirnoff ice, the only alcoholic drink she likes. She was dressed up all sexy and looked hotter than ever. Her big boobs almost bursting out of her shirt, her firm ass perfectly round, always a smile on her face. I knew I wasn’t going anywhere with her but sweet- talked anyway. I kept staring her deep in her eyes and she was very emotional, saying she wanted to be with me but had to stay loyal.

  When we walked back from the dining place, she couldn’t take it anymore and suddenly grabbed me and kissed me. I pulled her into an alley and we had a steamy make-out session. I was looking for a place to have sex but there was nothing around and she said she was already very late because she had to meet her boyfriend. I hated the thought when she said that. We kissed some more and my hands felt over her body. Damn, it felt so good. I had been with many girls in the meanwhile but Charlize had always been on my mind. It felt good, it felt pure. The only girls who came close to her were sweet Marisol from Valparaiso in Chile and that little cutie Evita in Lima.

  Ironically a week after I left she sent a text meant for me to her boyfriend by accident and he dumped her. I thought of going back to São Paulo and would have if I’d had more time but I was already so behind on my schedule that I had to skip cities, including the cities the three Brazilian girls in Chile had invited me to, so I decided not to.

  I went out so many times and experienced so much stuff that I have to skip parts of the story. I went out with a tall, cute black girl to an all-black club in São Paulo, which was great. I never saw so many hot black Brazilian girls in one place. I was the only white guy but that didn’t give me much in the way of bonus points. Language barriers were high and the approach anxiety came back, but not for long.

 

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