Welcome to the Good Life: Colombia Edition
I sat up in bed. Someone was banging on my door.
I grabbed my phone on the nightstand and looked at the time – 2:53 am. Who the heck is it?
I stumbled out of bed and opened the door to my hotel room.A shitty little hotel that was more of a boarding house than a functional operation.
My buddy was there. He was drunk and excited:
“We’ve got some girls on the terrace. They’re hot and they wanna smash.”
Suffice to say, I wasn’t annoyed about being woken up anymore. Hell, I was happy about it. Girls delivered straight to my door is never a bad thing.
“Get dressed. Get your shit on.”
“Okay give me two minutes.”
“Hurry up bro.”
I needed to fix my sleep breath. Quick shot of Listerine mouthwash. Gargle. Rinse. Spit. Sick of gum. Done. Grab a t-shirt. Quick spray of cologne. Jeans. Boots. The standard uniform.
“Look out for the girl in the grey shirt. She needs to be taken down… downtown”
“Okay, I’ll look out for her.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant but it sounded good. I followed my roommate to the roof terrace.
Welcome to the Good Life
My buddies cheered me as I walked through the glass doors and entered the rooftop. Man that felt cool. I looked for the girl in the grey shirt. She was smiling at me. My buddy was right. She did need to be taken down.
Downtown. Whatever the hell he called it.
She was looking at me with pure lust. Like I was a piece of meat.
She moved across the patio and handed me a drink. A pink cocktail glass made of plastic. Okay, whatever. I took a couple of sips. Coke and vodka.
She’d had more than two sips. Our hips start moving in sync. Our hips moved closer. She asked me where I had been all night.
Apparently, watching her friends with foreigners partying in Bogota all night had her a little riddled up. She wanted some attention for herself.
“Donde has estado toda la noche?” / Where have you been all night?
“En las discotecas”. / In the club.
It was a lie but it sounded good.
We passed the pink cocktail glass back and forth. Her arm went around my waist. My arm went around hers. I went in for the kiss.
“Not here”, she said. “Not in front of everyone.”
I guess it wasn’t as on as I thought it was…
We carried on grinding. She kissed me. I didn’t bother asking why she changed her mind.
Then she asked me if I was staying at the hotel.
“Si.” / Yes.
“Vamos.” / Let’s go.
Whoaaa! It looks like it is on…
We’d only known each other fifteen minutes. I slid the glass open door and reached behind me to take her hand. She followed me through the patio doors to the corridor.
As we walked along the corridor a few of our friends walked toward us on their way back to the rooftop. Instead of heading to my room, I stopped in front of the elevator, pressed the button and waited for the doors to open.
Once the coast was clear, we carried on walking down the hall.
We got into my room. She started taking off her grey shirt and putting her clothes on the back of the desk chair. I slid in behind her and starting biting her neck. She moaned.
I backed off to let her undress some more. I took off my t-shirt and shoes and lay on the bed. She dived on top of me smiling.
I slid it on and stood off the side of the bed. But just as I was about to get inside, someone knocked on the door.
We froze. The door creaked open. I dove face down on the bed and buried my erection in the mattress. Grey shirt girl slid down and tried to hide behind me.
Rim Jobs For All?
A Colombian girl with straight black hair peered through the crack in the door. She saw me face down and grey shirt girl crouching with her head between my legs.
She told whoever was with her that grey shirt girl was licking my asshole. A rim job. In Spanish.
I burst out in laughter.
But before I could tell her “It’s not what it looks like”, she instructed grey shirt girl:
“Ufff… when you’ve finished having sex, I’ll be in room 301.”
Whoever else was her yanked black hair girl back and slammed the door shut. Grey shirt girl scolded me for not locking the door and we got back to sex with zero rim jobs.
She slept the night, naked. I woke up twice to give her some of my morning wood.
As we were both getting dressed, she asked me to walk her to room 301 to find her friend.
We walked down the hall, past the elevator again and knocked on room 301. I waited for the OK before opening the door to avoid interrupting any possible sex acts.
Three nights later, someone knocked on my room door 12:43 am. I thought it was my friend being drunk again. I ignored it this time.
The next morning, my friend told me the phantom door knocker grey shirt girl. She was partying in the hotel again and came to see if I was awake.
I vowed to always sleep with one eye open in Colombia from that night on.
About the Author
Living and traveling around Latin America, Papi Chulo learned a thing or two about dating stunning Latinas. Now, he's sharing that information with the world. If you've ever wanted to meet stunning, exotic women - the time is now!