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The stars were the students themselves who’d practiced with their teachers for weeks for that one moment of glory. Why don’t you come to my intensive bachata course on Saturday? ” And then I got that dick pic from him (surprisingly unimpressive, though).“Enough! His girlfriend was in the room, I knew she was watching. “I’m single, I want him, and I don’t even know his GF.”“Would you want someone to do that to you? Legend has it that there are real couples who have met there.
Relaxed by the green magic, with an intriguing man leaning against my shoulder, I let the musicians play on the strings of my mind, on the keys of my heart. So we ate that damn falafel dinner together and he told the story of how they met (no mention of the story how I bought a big bottle of beer and strolled along the Paulista Avenue, not sure if I should cry or laugh. As always, millions of couples were making out on the benches and bus stops — young, old, gay, straight… He was spinning a girl but staring at me, his eyes narrowed. He extended his hand towards me for the next song and entrapped me in his arms for the whole night. No, I wouldn’t come next Sunday to the Cuban place again. Unable to focus, turning my head left and right, I looked for the familiar storm of Afro hair tamed by a headband. I was aloof but he caught my attention by offering to me lessons, in my living room, in exchange for English classes.
We exploded into an uncontrollable vortex of lust, his hands everywhere, my face red and stinging from his beard. I was new in town, just arrived to Recife, I didn’t want complications right at the beginning. He played “Pé na Areia” and pulled me to himself, just to push me away three seconds later. We floated on the waves of samba all the way to my room. We continued our classes with benefits for a few weeks, chatted on whatsapp every day, got jealous, had our first fight when he slapped me in my face in bed and I slapped him back. I took a risk with Kleyton and I lost but not everything. Those were just three of many bitter-sweet romantic (?
Before I noticed, his zipper was open, revealing its splendid insides. We turned our backs on each other, we made a jumpy walk back and forth, he spun me around and I laughed, having lost my balance. I would lose my focus whenever I smelled his perfume on other men. ) adventures I’ve had in Brazil and they’re nothing in comparison with what I’ve been told by my girlfriends.
The mixture of his smell and bullshit blinded my mind. They’re hardworking, ambitious, and self-sufficient. They do sports, travel, and develop their passions. Rodrigo, a male colleague of mine, admits that he’s single because he’s afraid.
Maybe we could be something more than just (fuck buddies)? The dude lived in a dance school, flirted with every girl around, and had kids with two different women. If he dates a woman, sooner or later she will discover that he’s a fraud.