(continued from Part 1)

The night bellman at your hotel is talking loudly at you in a language you don’t understand. You get the gist of it though. Apparently strolling in at 4am with a couple of barely legal Brasiladas is frowned upon at this establishment. No one sent you the memo. You rode in like a rock star, a girl dangling from each arm, kicking over a flower pot, ordering the cleaning lady to bring a bottle of Scotch up to your room… Pronto!

These sort of things aren’t acceptable in Hotel Luzieros, Fortaleza’s most well known and luxurious hotel, he is telling you. He points at the door. You want to knock that smug look off his Porutguese face.

The whole matter could have easily been resolved with a small bribe. But you blew any chance of that happening with your your “American sense of entitlement” and incoherent attack on his character. You slovenly escort the two girls outside.

One voice in your head says “Cut you losses- there is always tomorrow.” A louder voice hails down a cab and says “To the cheapest motel. Rapido! Por Favor”

You would be damned to let the night go up in flames at this point. Just a few hours ago you were in the mist of the single biggest girl heist of your life. Back at the club you had come out of the bathroom to spot your girls sandwhiched in the middle of a group of Norwegians. You felt a little intimidated. Has your Super Americano Power waned? Have your girls been swept away with tales of a booming European ecomony…

You decide to flex your muscles. You signal over a coctail waitress. You order 8 shots of the Brazilain equievelent of Yagermeiser. You have the waitress deliver the shots to your girls and their new Norwegian friends. The group is confused. They reluctanly do the shots… looking around to see who the mysterious stranger is that sent them. You make your Great Gatsby entrance.

The girls could not be happier to see you. You get two kisses on the lips. You’re drunk and go for tongue but both girls resist. Nights early, you think. You take the blonde by the hand and immediately remove her from the group. You look back and feel bad leaving the brunette to the pack of Norwegian wolves. You signal for her to come over.

The girls drag you on the dance floor. Your “gringo sense of rythem” is usually a game killer but tonight you’re Michael fucking Jackson. You take turns grinding with each girl… you look on in disbelief as the girls grind sexually with eachother. They get closer closer closer…They Kiss. Jackpot!

You remember a wedding you went to where your date started making out with her friend. Later at the hotel the friend started rubbing your chest under your shirt and hinted threesome,,, In an effort not to seem overly eager you laughed it off. You only slept with one girl that night.

After an hour or two of dry humping the two Brasiladas and taking turns kissing them you suggest the bounce. Their eyes light up. You flashback to an incident in Brazil two years prior involving a spotlight, a couple machine guns, and a girl who turned out to be sixteen. You casually ask the girls to see their documents. Raquel, the blonde is twenty. Emelia, the brunett is eighteen. The coast is clear for takeoff.

…Toward dawn you are sitting in the front seat of a cab next to Manny the driver. In the back seat Racquel is disapearing inside Emelia’s dress. You trust that Manny is actually taking you to a motel and not to a guerrila hide out where you will be kidnapped and tortured. But you aren’t certain.

Manny’s hand is on your knee and he is talking loudly and passionately in Portuguese. He is asking you questions. You smile and nod. Smile and nod. You think Manny likes you, but can never be sure of these things. He could just as easliy be saying “You parents will pay the ransom. And if they don’t we chop you up and feed you to pigs” The girls are too busy to notice.

The long winding road that is Avenida Beira Mar travels the course of the night- from the opulent to the destitute. Outside the street is still tinkered with people. Down the road, a lone hooker trots on heels, one hand holding her skirt from riding too far up her ass. As your cab gets closer you see that she is topless. Manny doesn’t blink an eye as you pass her. Manny could probably tell you stories that would break your heart. Make you run back to the States.

But you don’t want to think about these things right now. Brazil is a strange place for sure. You’ll have some contemplating to do when you get home. Maybe even some life decisions to make. Rearrange some priorities. Pick up some pieces… From the back seat Emelia lets out a squeak. You reach your hand in the back and one of the girls begins sucking your fingers. Yea… once upon a time, you were one of the good guys. Maybe you can be again… Just not tonight.

When Manny pulls away, leaving you and the girls in front of the motel, you experiece a moment of doubt. Growing up you always thought the other guys knew some fundamental secret about girls that you didn’t. These guys seemed to know what they were doing. It wasn’t until college, with the help of alchohol, that you began to feel comfortable around them. Even as you began a long string of conquests you always had the feeling you were just learning what came naturally to others. And even as it finally began to come naturally to you, you still had that underlying fear that you’ll be discovered as a fraud. Looking at the girls, that is just about how you feel right now.

All your doubts are alleviated when Raquell and Emelia fall onto the bed. Their bodies are twisting and turning into one another. They are giggling in a way that reminds you that this is exactly where they want to be. And when they quickly undress, you are reminded that this is exactly where you want to be. Raquell is the first to signal you onto the bed. You slide into them. They both are both kissing your neck. You run your hands along the crest of their abdomens. Emelia gently slides your pants down to your ankles.

Sandwhiched in between the two warm bodies, you can only wonder what you did in a previous life to reap these fruits in this one.

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