I had decided that I needed to leave the United States just for a break. So far since I have come here, I have left the continental US every year and wanted to make this a trend. I felt it set me apart from many locals that I had spoken to who had spoken fondly of wanting to leave the continent period but never actually pulled the trigger.
Santo Domingo brought me to this forum and I didn't really get the information that I wanted on my first trip. Seasoned this time in the art of travel, I tripled up and hit up some alternate travel forums, did some reading and let a few people know so that if they had people on the ground that could soften my landing and assuage my movements around the island, it would be appreciated. I let El Mechanico know and immediately he started sending me advice text messages whenever he got a break from his busy schedule. I sent a reacher message to Pitt via the forum and he responded a few days later telling me to hit him up when I arrived and where I was going to stay. Perhaps he thought I was just gassing and wasn't really going to arrive there. Some people will send messages asking for detailed information about places but never show up at all, almost like they are just compiling information for the sake of it.
My main concerns on this trip were somewhere to stay and how to get around the island. I wasn't too concerned regarding places to go once I had those two key caveats taken care of. It's always good to know where to go when one is limited for time. The problem with some places is that even though even though people can be very friendly and try to be helpful, they may often only know about their own personal circles and may not be able to make the best recommendations based on your constraints.
After putting the word around, reading some online forums and getting some info back from a few people, I tired of labouring over inert details and I bought my ticket on kayak.com. It cost about 440 dollars.
I felt excited and a bit apprehensive. The apprehension came from the fact that I am not fluent in Spanish and it's one thing to go somewhere that you are not from but to throw in the barrier of language difficulties is an additional hurdle. However, I'm no stranger to this and that's how it must always go down.
El Mechanico got me in touch with the driver. I hit him up with a phone call to get a breakdown of the rates and how to go about tackling the island. I called because often when I communicate people from other countries via social media i.e. family from Naija, I get the worse communications ever. Even though their phones are up to date with the latest messaging apps, the communication is stunted as if they pay through the nose for each letter they use. To cut through all that nonsense, I just call them and it's like you are speaking to a different person. The driver is a nice guy with flawless English and Spanish. He was busy as he has changed companies but would put me in touch with someone who could help me out with island transport. We decided to continue communication on whatsapp and I added him to my existing contacts. I hit up El Mechanico for advice on where to stay. He recommended the Hotel Riazor but wasn't sure on the price as he hadn't been there in a few years now. He said he had a nice balcony and was very close to the casino where one could gamble and hit on easy Dominican lizards. I asked on how to pay and he said sometimes cash or card. I was a tad skeptical with doing card payments long distance and after some deliberation and uncertainty about the hotel price, I decided to pay when I arrived. Since it was the islands, I felt that everything is better when people see you rather than hear some ephemeral voice on the phone that doesn't have my winning personality attached.
I doubled up on my bets by asking Pitt via message and he listed a place that I could show up at but the rate quoted was so cheap, I was concerned there had to be a catch. I kept that in mind however and worked on negotiations with the driver and his buddy. With that in mind, I let the driver know my arrival day and time. His friend would be there to pick me up from the airport. With that burden removed from my mind, I began to work on my travel accessories. I wondered what to wear and I again asked El Mechanico. He told me to take a custom suit with me and we both cackled loudly. I didn't want to look too touristy but I didn't want to be too bummy either. I noticed that in the islands, guys will often wear jeans as opposed to shorts even though the heat is always in the high 80s. This was the exact same in Naija.
I finally decided on bringing down some light trousers and khaki shorts. I would wear my flip flops for casual strolls around the area and then wear some cheap gray zip up shoes for my daily excursions. For nightlife, I would wear my dress shoes (Stacy Adams). I knew that I was going to look like a foreigner anyway, even though it's a black island so no matter how much I tried to disguise myself, I would stick out. I just didn't want to stick out blatantly, I desired to soften the blow. I got everything ready, determined which parking lot I would park at and then take the shuttle in to the airport from the parking lot (a cheaper one than the one that was literally on airport grounds, a mistake I learnt last year). I tried to get my phone unlocked but was unable to having left it too soon so I just increased my high speed data allowance and notified my phone company that I would be travelling to Santo Domingo. I also downloaded the Google translate app. I called my bank and notified them when I would be travelling and returning so that if there were any spending anomalies during that time frame, they were to freeze the card. I drew out some cash from the bank and when the teller there, a young white American male, heard of my destination, his eyes lit up with excitement. I felt good.
I set my alarm to wake up early for my departure. When I got up, I decided I needed a final few things and stopped at Wal-Mart to buy a pair of trousers, a collared short sleeved shirt and a box of condoms. I couldn't find them and asked the night staff in Wal-Mart where they were at. The woman working there, a black lizard seemingly in her late 20s lit up and was practically intrusive, asking me what brand I wanted. I was tired and didn't bite the bait. It was Magnums large that worked best for me but I just kept mumbling condoms which is a throwback to my British reserved upbringings.
I really should have said "Ho, how about you gimme yo digits so I can drop it off in you when I get back from where I'm gittin to?" but I was focused on my journey. Almost slightly disappointed, she led me to where the condoms were relocated to and then returned to her aisle to continue to tally stock.
I made my purchase, got in my car and got to the airport in more than adequate time. My flight was not direct but stopped in Panama. Panama was initially on my trip but I had a vendetta with DR and I wanted to settle it. I flew with a Panamanian airline and when I checked in, the guy there hit me up with some fast Spanish even though we were still in the US. From that, I was guessing that a good percentage of Panamanians are of a 'tanned' persuasion. I said "Mi espanol es no bueno" and he smiled and switched to English. I checked my luggage in and took an uncomfortable seat in the departure lobby and stretched out on a few of them to try and grab a restless sleep before my plane arrived. I had about an hour and a half to wait. I had a nice beginner's book in Spanish but as I thumbed through it on the flight, I put it away and chose instead to rely on my sharp memory and humility in absorbing this new tongue.
When I arrived in Panama, I did a quick scan of the lizards there. I wasn't really impressed and apart from seeing one lizard with a nice body, the rest of them were nothing to write home about. However, the airport may not be an accurate representative of a country so I can't really use that as final judgement and this is a testimony to my travelling experience.
I got on the plane to Santo Domingo shortly. When we arrived in Santo Domingo, I remember the first time when I went and the need to pay some kind of tax. I think that may have been an extra for noobs coming in as some kind of tourist package as no such line or formality existed here. I lined up apprehensively as I did when I was in Lagos, braced for a sting but it never came. I knew I was back in Hispanola because a lizard working there, directing passengers to the appropriate lines in accordance to their citzenship, basking in sensuality, spoke in Spanish to a female passenger who was asking for some sort of information. The lizard who worked here, leaned on me as if we were partners, her arm resting on my shoulder as a prop as she spoke to the woman. I smiled to myself. Bienvenido a Santo Domingo! This was a sharp contrast to the West where a lizard wouldn't just do this unless she was intoxicated AND in some kind of night club or informal setting.
My eyes scanned the average look of the people in Santo Domingo. They appeared to be mostly of the beige look and took pride in that hair looking like Giancarlo Esposito. My look was definitely in the minority. This made no difference and I didn't get any vibes or bad feelings. I scanned the throng of people keenly trying not to make too much eye contact. I saw my driver's friendly face and I walked over to him. He was another beige cat with a friendly face and small eyes with a slight slant to them like he had a touch of Asian running through his DNA. We made our way to his car. His English was as dead as Thanksgiving turkey but I loved this as this gave me a chance to really brush up on my Spanish. My Spanish was really forced into motion.
We made our way into the airport parking lot. The cars were beat the fcuk up, by and large but I've been to Lagos so this was nada but enchiladas and pradas so after loading my sole piece of luggage which was really a carry on into the back seat of his car, we drove off. I had my Google translator app open and fed words into it as we conversed. The driver (the original driver) called up and spoke with the friend, he put me onto the phone and we spoke briefly. He asked me where I was going to say. I told him Hotel Riazor and this was conversed to my current driver. As we drove along, I ogled the country. This was the real Dominican Republic. No resort shyt this time. The driving was disorderly to no surprise of mine and the roads were littered with old vehicles and buses stuffed with an assortment of people. I started to notice a mixture of people of different hues and not just purely beige as I saw in the airport. Again, I just mention this for observational purposes as at no time did I feel anything odd.
When we got to Hotel Riazor, we parked up by the roadside and went in. I told the guy at the reception that I desired a room and he looked through the guest logs, an old worn exercise book with the A5 sized paper sheets.
He shook his head.
"No rooms left," he said, solemnly. I didn't really feel concerned as I was in Ste Do. and the driver and his friend seemed to be committed to ensure that my stay would be without concern. They were giving me the lowdown on the real D.R. When we got back to the car, the driver's friend relayed the info to the driver who had an alternative. He let us know about another place, still within the hub of the city and not far from el conde (Zona Colonial). This place was called Jecasergian Hotel.
Jecasergian Hotel
The reception at the Jercaergian was manned by two beige cats. One looked more GQ with the slick hairdo and his compadre was a smaller built dude with braces in his mouth. The GQ dude had passable English and his partner had zero. I could pay per day and the price was in accordance to what I liked which freed up more space on my budget. The smaller cat with braces took me to my room which was on the 3rd floor (or 2nd floor, for my British readers).
The room was nice and clean. He decided to move me into a more spacious room (at the same rate per day). The place came equipped with WiFi, a room safe, working AC and a small fridge where one could store refreshments such as beers, rum or food. The bathroom was clean and the water pressure to the sink, toilet and shower was good. I had no complaints. I was a tad concerned about the possibilities of insects getting in my room via the open window in the bathroom but these concerns were unfounded. My room stayed bug free and subsequently, my limbs and torso remained bite free. At the end of the corridor on each floor, there was a water cooler with plastic cups sealed in a plastic container and stacked on top of one another. The one on my floor was often empty but I had taken the opportunity to go to the ground floor when parched. I needed the exercise as I have been slacking on my cardio in America due to the state that I am in and just general affairs that I have to address in my daily routines. The ground floor also had a coffee dispenser. The Dominicans take their coffee sweetened. This was no gourmet coffee by any means but it exceeded my expectations. Besides, I am not a big coffee drinker anyway and I just needed something to keep the post lunch monkey off of my back and away from my eyelids. As I was told, you have plenty of time to sleep when you are old. So for the purpose of staying awake and active, that was effective.
The workers at the front desk were helpful. The main guy, the beige GQ cat with the usual Indian looking hair (possibly slicked into form with gel) that many beige Dominican men seemed to be so proud of, had the best English and knowledge of what was going on in the area. His co workers, although equally as nice and helpful, were stunted when it came to English.
However, with my keenness to learn and the trusted Google translate app, I got along just fine. In the evenings, armed Dominican police officers manned the reception area, using the communal PC there to browse Facebook and maybe dating sites. I know they were on face book because I snipe shoulder surfed from a distance as I waited for my driver to arrive and I saw the familiar landing page of Facebook.
The officers were armed with those assault rifles that one tends to see in the Caribbean, weapons of imminent and deadly intent.
I received a steady stream of text messages during the trip from el mechanico like a coach offering advice and counters to maximise my stay. He suggested that I go to the casino and play even though I don't gamble. I have limited interest in sitting around the tables playing but he said that didn't matter and that worked very well for him on his last visit. I told him I would like to go to the clubs and he said that they would only be playing loud annoying Dominican music in the clubs. He warned me about the cheap Chinese car alarms that I would hear each morning blaring and interrupting my sleep.
PITT
I finally met Pitt in El Conde. I had spoken to him before on Skype and he asked me numerous times when I would come down to Ste Do but the timing wasn't right and you don't get a lot of vacation time in America. But finally, able to squeeze off a few days, I made the trip and here I was. He walked up with swagger, some Jordan trainers (to my recollection) and wearing shades. Pitt is a cool guy with a lot of energy. He has an unapologetic lust for culo redondo (round ass) and reminds me of the original London that I know where the lads and I would feed exclusively off of road game. I marvelled at his ability to switch to Spanish flawlessly and barter with a Dominican (who are always trying to over charge for services etc). As we hung out, he was hollaring constantly at lizards that tickled his fancy. We walked through El Conde, talking. He broke down DR for me. He lived right in the cut, in the stream of action and as we stood there, looking at sexy lizards walk by. I remember those days and they reminded me of summers in London.
We met up in the evening in El Conde and walked Zona Colonial towards the casino. I drank in the sights, smells and sounds as I walked along and my heart leapt with excitement at every fifth step I took. It felt good to be alive. A short man accosted us with some flyer in his hand. At first Pitt brushed him away, it seemed he was trying to draw us into some club of some sort but then realising that it was my first time in Ste Do, he decided to take the man up on his offer and we went into an establishment only about 50 feet from the main street that we walked along. When we entered the place, it had the layout of a bar. The place was crammed with sexily clad women in there who sat around loafting, some at the bar nursing a drink. As they realised our presence, they all jumped to attention like an army drill and formed a long line looking lasciviously at us. I'm no expert but I knew their intent. Their looks were very much in alignment with what I liked and I averted my gaze not willing to make eye contact. I chose to take this course of action because I'm not yet gifted in the art of shoring and preferred to look rather than partake.
"Which one you like, G?," asked Pitt and I looked at one with a look that the driver's friend would describe as 'Indian'. Her body and soft features made me happy. But in all honesty, all the lizards in there could get it. They had more onions than an Italian grocery store and this could make a grown man cry.
"Bruv, they are all fine," I responded. Pitt thought for a moment and then we exited the place and continued our journey to the casino.
When we entered the casino, we looked around. Many people were gathered around the tables, playing the card games or dice games. They had sexy female croupiers in there and Pitt always on game, spat those lyrics at a few that were either new or that he knew in the past. I wasn't focused too much on those details as my senses were bombarded by the new surroundings, culture and the totally foreign language to my ears. The lizards weren't really biting or were stalling so we left the premises. We got a taxi back to my street where my hotel was located which was only about a minute from where Pitt stayed. I knew the general location but I still wasn't sure where my hotel was at this time. I was still having problems pronouncing some of the words here. I walked up the street looking at the hotels, my eyes racing and hustling for a familiar landmark and I saw two white lizards, a blonde and a brunette in what looked like night clothes, ambling casually along the street. The blonde one shot a long and brazen look at me but I was focused on finding my room plus wasn't interested in white lizard so I ignored this semi obvious signal.
I noticed that the duo was stopped later on by Pitt, who is forever on watch and he sparked up a convo with them. I finally found my hotel and then I doubled back to tell the cabbie and Pitt of my discovery, I was introduced as the guy from London and I was a bit surprised to hear the Nordic blonde with a very clear English accent. We made arrangements to meet a couple of days later. I spudded (dapsed) Pitt and I retired for the rest of the night into my hotel.
SAMBIL MALL
The next day, I went with the driver's friend to Sambil Mall which was a bit more upscale than Agora mall. The items in here were very expensive for Dominican standards and I found that the trainers (sneakers/running shoes) sold in here were priced exorbitantly. One regular pair of running shoes that I normally see for around 90 dollars worked out if you converted it from Dominican pesos back to US dollars at approximately 173 dollars which was almost twice the amount. Clearly only foreigners or big wigs would be buying from these stores. Although I had a lot of energy from the excitement of being in a different place, I was lapsing at time and this was no time to sleep. As told before, you have plenty of time to sleep when you are old. El Mechanico had spurred me at one night when I was burnt out and said that he saw 70 year old Germans up all night, playing cards in the casino and doing things and he did have a point. I grabbed a black coffee straight from a coffee store in the mall and sipped it as I looked around at the pedestrian traffic. On the level just below, I watched a Dominican lizard in the entrance of a phone store speak to a man who may or may not have worked there. Music was playing and she laughed and began to rotate her hips in some sort of dance. My penis jumped hungrily in delight and anticipation. I finished my coffee and went to buy a padlock for my suitcase and then buy some Imodium from the pharmacy there just in case I got hit with the bubblies. I had been drinking water recklessly from various sources such as the cooler in the hotel and eating from regular eateries. The last time I was in DR, my stomach turned to liquid and I wasn't keen on revisiting such an experience.
The driver's friend spoke with the worker there, another sexy beige female and they laughed about some condoms that were on sale right at the front. I noticed that they did not hide the contraceptives in a discreet aisle like they do in the United States but had them on front display like some kind of promotion. I bought my Imodium and then we left the store.
On the way down to the lower level where we parked, I noticed a group of young Dominican lizards that walked casually through the store. They stood in front of us and took the escalator and my eye was particularly piqued by the taller, black one. These days I like taller lizards and she had a nice bottom. I watched her unabashedly from the back and she, as if with some sort of telepathy, reached back to pinch and free the material of her pink tights stuck in the crevice of that wonderful ass. I wasn't actually thinking lust like I normally assign my mind to after hearing many lizards in America talk but I was actually seeing the lizards and the mentality that had once been present in the West, the behaviour of a real woman. She wasn't fat and I kept imagining if she was in America, especially the part I am, she would be a fat ass. It was a bit of a culture shock to see so many women in shape and I doubt that they possess gym memberships like they do out here. What they do possess however, is discipline memberships and they use these daily and renew them monthly. Discipline to eat cooked food and not processed food and discipline to eat in ration.
After purchasing some cheap swimming trunks (just tacky bermuda shorts for under a buck in a local supermarket), I rode with the dude to Boca Chica which is teeming with darker skinned Dominicans. I say this because the look that I seem to see as a majority in Santo Domingo is that beige look with the Indian hair (which these guys seem to love dearly). Regular black look is second and then dark skinned and white, I don't see as much of. Remember however, that I am in the heart of Santo Domingo and not in the uppity areas so I can only speak on what I see. I was told that is the colour scheme of wealth in that island and since the people with money tend to be more in Santo Domingo, I would see more of a beige look than black. Now the fact that I listed a certain minority which I might insert myself into doesn't mean that if you are black, jet black or white you will experience issues because I don't believe you will. For example, the two Nordic lizards from last night expressed no fear or concern.
BOCA CHICA
The drive to Boca Chica was about an hour and the driver's friend had asked if he could bring his sister along. "Sure", I replied as three can travel as easily as two in a car and we stopped by some spot near an outdoor market and she got in the car. She was a pretty very smooth skinned beige Dominican lizard. However, my penis was settled because I don't make a habit of lusting over people's sisters unless she is mind blowing and giving off a strange slut energy, which she was not.
The traffic here is insane and the driver's friend seemed to be impressed that I'm not tense from how close we are to tankers, trucks, motoconchos and pedestrians darting across the highway. They must have telepathy as I saw a sexy light skinned Dominicana casually pick her way through an unrest of relentless traffic and blaring horns with the same serenity on her face as if she were alone in her bedroom applying makeup. She sidestepped a few darting cars and I watched her face on both occasions and her indifference was amazing. I saw the driver I was with almost clip some guy with dreads on a motorbike (no helmet, of course!) on our way to la playa (the beach). I looked at the guy's face keenly and his level of relaxation was on par with someone who has smoked a whole bag of cess and just bust a heavy nut.
In Boca Chica, I got a beach massage from two dark skinned Dominican women who had their hands roaming all over me, mumbling stuff in Spanish that my brain said 'Fcuk it, don't watch that' to. They took my top off and I almost felt like a bitch getting undressed by some smooth talking mack. One of the women had her hands under my shirt to begin with, working out the knots in my traps and my upper back. The other one pitched in and started to work my skull and my waist. Thoughts of sex momentarily fired across my perverted mind but these lizards were solid 4s and I wanted to see what later on would bring as I had worked out with Pitt that we would be hitting a spot in the hood. These days, I am very picky about wasting my semen and I'd rather hold out than hit anything moving.
We ordered a bottle of brugal 150 dark rum and a few mineral waters (sodas). The driver's friend and his sister wanted to go in the water. I wasn't too inspired to go in the sea as there was an ominous sheet of algae floating everywhere but the driver's friend insisted that it was fine. His sister, a smooth skinned beige A rastafarian came up, looking like he literally emerged from the ocean. His hands and feet seemed to be borne of a life of labour and a roots type of man and he started talking. Our server at the table muttered in annoyance that the man was a partaker of droga and cocaina and went back to the bar after taking our order. The rasta began speaking to me and asked me where I'm from. I told him that I am from London, England. He told me that he was from Jamaica but lived in England for about 10 years. I didn't hear a lick of any Jamaican essence in his accent. I was hearing more of a Bajan ring to his voice but don't quote me exactly. What I will go to the bank on is that ol' boy was NOT Jamaican. To confirm this, I asked him which parish in Jamaica he was from.
"Kingston, man!," was his slightly indignant reply. Kingston is NOT a parish. It's a city IN the parish of St Andrews, Jamaica. As I thought, ol' boy was gassing (making up stories) but whatever, I wasn't going to shake his story. I knew he was going to pitch for a donation and I listened patiently to his pitch as I sipped the rum and surely enough after a while he made his bid but I had zero funds on me. I told him so and then went to the toilets to change into the cheap shorts that I bought in the supermarket (equivalent to 79 US cents) so that I could swim. After some persuasion from the driver and his bikini clad sister, I reluctantly went in the water which had floating algae everywhere. The water was slightly cold to begin with but got a lot warmer and very comfortable afterwards. I got over the concern of things floating up to me as it was so dark I could hardly see at some point. A white lizard and a dark lizard splashed around in the water. I was thinking that they might be foreign and speak something other than Spanish as I didn't have my google translate app with me in the water and I wanted to ask them a question. However, they didn't speak a lick of English and after several failed sign language attempts (my question was complicated), I gave it and returned to the area where the driver's friend and his sister splashed in the sea and chattered in Espanol.
Afterwards, we emerged from the sea, with everything around us concealed in darkness and after settling the bill, we dried off by the car and made our way back to Santo Domingo.
GUCCI LOUNGE
Pitt had asked me earlier if I wanted to go to a club in the hood. This would be an experience for me and I agreed. I would meet Pitt around 10:30pm that night and he would come along with his girl and her friend. I told my transporter the time I needed him available and I went home to rest my body and write up what I had done so far. I hydrated myself back at the hotel and rested for a bit under the cool respite of the AC. Eventually I took a shower, selected my appropriate body oils and outfit and went down to meet my transporter. I was a bit surprised to see he had his lizard in there from earlier. I wasn't sure why she was there when I told him how many people would be in the car but I realised that in DR, people don't listen exactly to what you tell them. I guess someone would have to sit in one's lap. Given the hotness and sensuality of the lizards in the DR, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.
When we met Pitt in El Conde, he was there with only his girl. Her friend wasn't with her. This was good as I didn't know why the transporter brought the other lizard along and I communicated this to Pitt in London slang.
Pitt and his girl hemmed into the back seat alongside the driver's sister who had now changed her outfit into a black night dress.
When we got to the area, I told the driver to have a good night and I got out of the car with Pitt and his girl.
Outside the club ala the Gucci Lounge, two guys on stilts ambled along gracefully doing some kind of promotional performance. That night, Gucci Lounge was going to be featuring a prominent Dominican dembow dominican artist called Chimbala. Opposite the club on the other side of the road, a man grilled meat and vegetables on his BBQ and he was positioned outside of a store which had confectionary inside including bottled water etc.
Shortly, a taxi pulled up and his girl's friend popped out of the ride. She was a nice beige lizard in some tight jean shorts sporting some nice legs and doelike eyes. Not bad.
Pitt was a bit hungry and wanted to eat before we got in. I decided that would be a good idea and would order some food as well. We ordered from the street vendor grilling the meat and vegetables on his street barbecue. We ate and discussed as Pitt's lizard and her friend stood by. Afterwards, I got a bottle of water inside the store, drank it and then we got ready to go into the Gucci lounge. At the door, we were patted down by a black Dominican in a suit. We entered the lounge. The music inside was blaring with a loud assortment of what El Mechanico calls Dominican noise, lol. I could hardly pick a word of what was being said because of the noise and because my Spanish bites but what made this different from some modern day rap music like for instance, many if not all of Future's tracks?
However..I loved it and I will be updating my music collection pronto. I like it because it reminds me of the dancehall raves I used to attend back in the days in London when Shabba, Beenie, Buju and Merciless were popping. It has the same tempo, same drums.
We had reserved a table in the VIP section. The VIP section stood aside from the regular floor by on a higher level (only elevated by two steps though). It was crowded, standing room only. Our table was positioned right in the corner and it had a bucket of ice on it with a large bottle of rum and a couple of bottles of 911 which was the Dominican equivalent of Red Bull. The bottle of rum had a stopper on it so the rum trickled at an even rate to prevent a more heavy handed individual from pouring disproportionate rounds for himself. A hookah device was set up there with an ignition point below the table that ensured the hookah smoke keeps flowing. The light for the hookah went out often but there was a guy on hand to reignite it. I don't smoke hookah and neither does Pitt but the lizards indulged and they seemed quite happy. The music blared loudly and I looked around with interest. I was feeling good vibes and energy and also a level of curiosity. I'm pretty sure the Dominicans in there knew we were outsiders.
Everytime I go somewhere, I try to absorb something from my encounter there and I was trying to get some Latin music movements down on lock. As the music tempo increased to a crescent when the dembow blared, the crowd was in alliance with the chorus and chants and then I saw many lizards twerking wildly. My heart throbbed with happiness and desire. Pitt's lizard twerked happily in the corner, her friend matched her oscillations and all around us, Dominican females wedged sexily into body hugging outfits twerked. I could see why many men lose their minds over this.
A black Dominicana in a black dress who was rotating her backside with a hypnotic roll to the dembo caught my eye when I went to the toilet and I noticed her staring at me on multiple occasions with intent. She was at a table with a Dominican man and I've never been the type to take another man's food knowingly. As you lot may know, my vice is a big, rounded arse which I quickly learnt how to say in Espanol (redondo culo) and I don't think that will change anytime soon. When I entered the toilets, they were clean but I noticed a tub of hair gel on the sink near where you washed your hands. This Indian hair thing is serious in the Dominican Republic! When I returned, I danced with the friend of Pitt's lizard as the bachata came on and she 'seemed' impressed with my waist movements which have improved since I moved to Florida (in my opinion). She gestured and said for a noob (newbie/beginner/rookie), I seemed to be doing well and picking it up fast. Right now, the language sounded like a rapid blur of words but I trusted my brain to decode it at some point and although the time frame that l was there was short, it's a case of adaptation.
I noticed a few people looking at me in the club. I've been referred to as 'El Americano and I don't think the fact that 'Yo soy de Ingleterra' has registered as firmly with them. Chimbala showed up accordingly and began to spit his verses, galvanising the crowd. He was another beige cat with a big head that hosted that much loved Dominican gelled Indian hair and was sporting shades. The energy in the club was good.
Towards the latter part of the night, the Ludacris song 'Move Bitch' came on and Pitt and I threw our hands up and began to thug dance it out, howling the words "if you doing the speed limit, get the fcuk out of my way etc".
It was great and that moment is coded into my brain like a MAC address burned onto a NIC card. Not gonna change anytime soon.
ISABELLA
Towards 3am in the morning as the Gucci Lounge was dying down, Pitt convened with me and wanted to go outside to see what the lizard situation was like. There were a lot in the club ogling us and we were kids in a candy shop with unlimited choice.
At the entrance of the club, he spotted the lizard in black who had been twerking earlier standing across the street with a few other lizards seated near a vendor of beer. His eyes gleamed. It appears that Pitt and I have the same tastes in reptile.
He went over to her and began to spit game at her in Spanish. She smiled and I saw her look at me. Not wanting (or needing to intervene), I let Pitt build up the momentum to our foreign status and I moved closer. He said something like 'we are not Jamaican so we are not afraid to eat pussy." and she smiled again.
I inched even closer and put my hand brazenly on her buttocks, finding them firm and pliable. She didn't resist and allowed me to palm her buns freely. I very much wanted to fcuk her. Pitt continued to spit at her and then came over to me.
"Yo, G, Isabella is down. I think we can run a train on her," he said.
I wasn't exactly the train type of guy but what happens in DR, right?
I asked Isabella if I could take some pictures and told her to cock out that delightful bottom of hers. She arched it out in compliance and I took a few snaps from a few different angles.
Isabella had to go home that night but Pitt got her number and arranged to meet up the following day. We hailed a cab. I asked Pitt if I could fcuk his girl's friend that night. He asked his girl and she said that her friend doesn't really fcuk that quickly. Bollocks. I had no time however for LMR as I was playing with a shot clock (quote: Superman) and pressed for time in terms of seeing the city as well as slamming punani.
I took the girl's number and we got into the cab together. We dropped the girl off first. I looked at where she lived, some ramshack building where a bunch of Dominicans hung out outside around some oil drums. It was about 4am in the morning. She stopped to talk to them for a moment. We drove off. Poverty doesn't spare beauty but operates entirely on chance.
My Spanish was being forced along in leaps and bounds as the dude I was rolling with since I got there knew zero English and my Spanish is extremely paltry. I kept inadvertently pulling French words out during the drive to Boca Chica and got total blank looks from the driver and his hermana. I've been leaning heavily on Google translate to drag words out. I love that they can't speak English because I've been chatting about this bilingual thing for a while and pussyfooting around. Give me 3 months there and my Spanish would be flawless, I would be blending in like Terminator 2.
BREAKFAST AND THE DANCER
I finally heard the cheap Chinese car alarms in the morning. It didn't do much to disrupt my sleep but it was funny the way El Mechanico described them. I have no idea why they go off in unisioneach morning but so be it.
After a busy night out, I made my way to the lobby area close to 11am. There was a nice joint that I went to a few days ago with my driver. The food was delicious and was traditional Dominican food. Plantains, chicken, beef, rice and avocados to say the least and seasoned very well.
In the lobby area, a woman in lingerie sat in the seats near to the communal PC, flicking away on her smartphone. She looked like a lizard from East Africa (again, perhaps Eritrea, Ethiopia or even Somalia). The mixing that goes on and went on in DR if you combine the African slaves brought over, with Spaniard Europeans and the indigenous Indians residing on the island makes for all sorts of looks and although Santo Domingo is dominated by the beige folk from my glance, the looks are not locked in. You see all sorts of complexions of black and I was routinely stumped.
I hardly even blinked at the lizard's semi nudity in this public thoroughfare due to desensitisation from regular exposures of living in a slack part of the United States, seasoning from age and travel and other ingredients so I queried the guy behind the front desk as to where to go for breakfast. I really didn't want to occupy my day planning around lizards but at some point it would be a good idea to start stacking reptiles as I had done zero online scouting prior to my visit and my tenure on this beautiful island was slowly coming to completion.
I tried to communicate the best I could in my butchered Spanish and leaning heavily on Google translate about the joint I went to a few days prior to the guy at the front desk.. We stuttered along but Dominicans are very patient when it comes to learning their language. I rarely saw a rattled Dominican and I'm sure they must have found it tedious to listen to me struggle in the shallow water while they comfortably float in the deep end when it comes to understanding and ease of their Spanish language.
He asked the lady sitting there for assistance for the place I wanted to go to. Her English wasn't great either. She mentioned that she had a guy she knew that could drive me around immediately and I declined that.
I saw the guy making some facial expressions at me as in "Get that ho!" and I thought to myself, fcuk it, talk to her.
My thing with game is that I'm not always on. I operate in independent channels which don't operate together. Some guys I know are always on game, antennas always up and can sniff an opportunity in seemingly innocent areas. I have had the tendency to miss layups in that fashion and that's an area that I have to work on. Some guys are so good that they don't actually need to go to a night spot to pick up lizards and have a steady supply just from regular day game!
I whipped out my phone and punched in the following into google translate:
"I would like to get your number so we can hang out later."
I read this to her like a simpleton, in Spanish. She paused for a moment as if to think and then said sure and gave me her number. I smiled and said I would whatsapp her later.
Having gotten an idea from the convo between the two of them and a quick search in google, I figured out the spanish name of the place 'Villar Hnos'. I walked out of the hotel into the warm Dominican sun and made my way to where I figured it was. I knew that people would look occasionally and place me as an American but there was nothing I could do about this. The street I was on, had about 3 or 4 hotels on it and it was the same street that the Norwegian lizards were staying on. It was safe and people were friendly (apart from the usual semi hustle to try and sell something on occasion).
During my breakfast in the Villar Hnos, I loaded up my Whatsapp but saw some stocky looking dude's pic for the number associated with the one the lizard in the lobby gave me. I sent a message perhaps she was dodging men and got no response.
When I finished my meal and went back, she was still there flicking through her phone.
"Hey," I said via the power of the translate app. "Is that your correct number? I see someone different on whatsapp."
She said that she had another number and gave some excuse which I didn't give two fcuks for. I got her other number down and saw that her pic loaded up in accordance with this current phone number.
"I'll call you later," I repeated as before and went into my room to chill for a bit before hitting the road.
THE MAID
I returned to my room to find my bed neatly made and my laptop put to the side on the side table. My suitcase was as it was, left open, with my box of Magnum condoms open as I left them, with protection strewn over my folded clothes. Concerned for the safety of my possessions, I quickly scanned through my belongings but found nothing missing. I still intended to buy a small lock for my suitcase just for peace of mind. I still couldn't believe my daily room rate.
I was having issues with my AC in my room. I didn't know how to turn it on and the maid had turned it off while I was not there to cut down on electricity and what have you. This made perfect sense, it's all about reducing one's carbon footprint. However, I was back and needed a nap and although I have trained myself to withstand hot temperatures, now was not the time to put myself to the test. I went out of my room into the corridor to look around. I saw the maid and another guy in one of the other rooms, the door ajar as they cleaned. I fired up my google translate app and summoned the maid to my assistance.
"How do you turn on the AC?," I blurted out in appalling Spanish. She smiled gently and walked with me back into my room. There was something about her air of movement that made me wonder if she was up for the pipe and this was a fantasy of mine, slamming the help. From the time frame since I had discovered my room cleaned and to where I saw her, made me realise that she was very likely the same person that I had cleaned my room. I doubted that the hotel contracted out multiple companies to clean the rooms, it was just one service. She showed me the remote to turn the AC on and the wall switch to manipulate the fan. I realised that she had seen my condoms. This country was baking in sex. There was no shame in a man being a man! She left and I decided that I would like to save my semen for another more hapless hag.
THE MALL AND BOSTON BEANS
The next day, I got up around 10:30 and checked my phone. I got a message from Pitt and an action plan. I weighed up another Spanish lesson with the driver's friend and decided to take it back to the roots with Pitt and combine the mobility offered by the driver's friend. We went to a mall inland where we would conduct day game. We drove through an area that reminded me of a combination of Brixton, Peckham and Lagos market. There was a whole heap of people and some very old ass cars. It was a Saturday so people were out doing what they had to do on a Saturday.
Pitt reminds me of some of the West Indian men I used to roll with back in the days. He was conversing comfortably with the driver and friend in Spanish and then exclaimed loudly pointing at a lizard walking through the busy market area. Due to traffic, we were moving at a walking pace in the car and Pitt jumped out of the car, closed the door and ran over to a lizard who is walking alongside the pavement in this busy market area to spit game. Pitt's approach and mindset is the most important aspect of organic game. Effort. It's impossible for Pitt to lose, he spits too much for that to happen.
Some minutes later, Pitt ran up to our car which was painfully ambling on due to the balls to walls traffic and got back in. I smiled warmly. Reminded me of the old London.
We got out at the mall and I told the driver that I would let him know when we were ready to go.
This mall had a movie theatre in it. This was the real Dominican Republic, Santo Domingo and one could really get a feel of how an average Dominican living would get around here. I felt like I was in a film and my brain was constantly challenged. Nothing was in English but my Spanish was getting better by the minute..by force! Pitt was hungry (we agreed to eat breakfast at the mall) so we went to the food court. Deciding on Chinese (served by Dominicans naturally), we sat down to eat and exchange philosophies. It was evident to me that Dominicans knew that I was a foreigner and guessed at me being an 'American'. As I spoke passionately about certain observations with Pitt, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a few patrons watching us with interest. I was going into deep London slang with Pitt but I wasn't sure about the fluency of the people around us.
When we finished eating, we walked around and Pitt's eyes darted like a seasoned hunter, scanning the mall for ass. Pitt is configured like me in terms of sexual preference and when we hunt, either we bring in enough crop to share or horns will be locked.
I was getting thirsty quite quickly. Although I had a drink with my Chinese, I usually find such food is heavily salted. Soft drinks in the West Indies often has a bit more sugar than it does in Europe and North America (I know this because I did a taste test when I went to the Coca Cola factory in Atlanta). Regardless of which, I felt like I needed to drink water every 20 mins (I usually only drink water in America). To add to boot, we were walking everywhere and the heat in Dominican was substantial although not quite as humid as Miami or Nigeria. Those two locations have trained me well and enabled me to walk through the West Indies without complaining like an unruly child.
We scouted around looking for a drink. Pitt paused on alert as we saw a lizard with a decent ass in some jeans that walked with some other older women, probably family members. She looked East African to me (possibly from Eritrea). Pitt ran a few internal queries about whether to go for it and we kept watching. We decided to get the water from this big supermarket within the mall as the water would be cheaper than buying it from the food court or from the first point we saw. I continued to spit knowledge at Pitt who listened but had his antennas up, scouting the prospects around. We saw the same East African lizard in the checkout line with her family and Pitt stared at her brazenly as we walked past. She turned to follow our gaze and smiled. She had an ass on her but I wasn't sure if the jeans were doing her justice.
After we purchased the water, we saw the East African lizard again and this time Pitt beckoned to her. She walked over accompanied by the other females in her group. Pitt's technique was to spit Spanish but not too fluently so that the lizards can determine that he's not a local as that gives him an edge above them. The lizard responded in perfect English with an American accent.
"You speak English!," said Pitt with some slight surprise in his voice. "Yes," said the lizard. She told us that she was from Boston but her parents were Dominican and she was in Santo Domingo for one year. We spoke in English with Pitt pretty much heading the dialogue between herself and him/us.
Numbers were exchanged and we headed out. I told Pitt that the Dominican look was indeed amazing and has a wide spectrum. We saw another lizard with a whole heap of ass and a fat friend going to the cinema within the mall to watch a film. Pitt accosted her and she responded with strong English.
Again, Pitt queried her as to where she learned English from and she had learned it from a language school. She was a bit of a nerd and I was now getting an insight to the middle class and normal Dominicans. DR is like any other country. Just because it's a 3rd world country, it doesn't mean people are any different or have any different aspirations than the average North American or European. They have the same desires, fantasies but due to culture, the approach varies somewhat. What I could take from this is that the Western culture is strong and pervasive so that even though it is from an Anglo standpoint, it penetrates into the Latin countries and affects those coming up particularly the youngsters who often intake a steady sustenance of Western entertainment as they grow up. This showed a bit of a contrast and balance to the streetwalkers and poon merchants that I mostly encountered on my first visit. Pitt asked her for her number but she seemed hesitant so Pitt cancelled her out and we exited the mall. As we waited for a taxi that seemed reliable (you can't just grab any cab in DR as some guys are just scammers or even worse) we saw a lizard with a nice ass. Pitt hit her up in Spanish and although her body language seemed like she was trying to get away, she still stood around for Pitt to hit her up with his game. I smiled and felt like I was taken back to the golden years in the UK when me and the boys just used to spit game during the summer at prospective lizards.
Pitt is a fast thinker and makes decisive moves. DR is not the place where you need to overthink when it comes to punany especially with the leverage of an expat. Action is better than inertia.
Lizards aren't really doing much particularly on the lower tier and your suggestions are better than her alternatives, which is often doing nothing.
The SLAM
Santo Domingo was alive with so many things going on. I conversed with Pitt as we posted up on the pedestrian thoroughfare in El Conde about Isabella from the previous night at the Gucci lounge. She had a big arse and we were planning to run a train on her that afternoon but she had not responded to phone calls or texts that day. It was my last evening on the island and for you readers (and slightly for me), I needed to release inside a female from this country. I keenly scanned the pedestrian traffic on this car less street. A lizard approached me and asked me if I wanted a massage, gesturing to an all purpose salon she was obviously recruiting clientele for on the opposite side of the street. Her English was fairly decent.
"No," I smiled, dodging the hustle. "But I would like something else massaged."
She smiled at my insinuation and pressed further, offering that I go inside and try it for five minutes for free. I had already had my all black massage in Boca Chica from the dark skinned lizards so I respectfully declined the offer.
Just then, a text message from my driver came in asking if I was interested in his 'sister'.
I laughed loudly to myself. I loved this place.
"Sure," I responded via text and sent another text to the lizard I had met in the lobby. She was available for an encounter later on that evening.
Contemplating for a bit, I beckoned the lizard who was trying to offer me a massage over and got her number and what she was doing later. We arranged a time to call and meet and I bid her adieu.
I spoke to Pitt about what his plans were for that evening. He was still a bit hungover from our drinking at the Gucci Lounge and wasn't sure if he had any energy to go out that evening. He had gotten a text from the Norwegian lizards about going out later on but I wasn't interested in foreigners at this point.
Pitt told me that pussy is pussy. That's true and I'd gladly be his wing if he wanted to chop both of them down.
I saw another lizard walk by. She had on a nice dress tight enough that it hugged her backside well. The backside was round and perfect. Her face was nothing to write home about but I'm not out there to make love or fcuk faces so as long as she didn't have a beard or a square chin (manly traits), I can take a pass on that face. The body was nice.
"Who's that?," I wondered to Pitt, aloud.
"Yo, G if you want that, call that," informed Pitt and he hollared at the lizard. She beckoned for us to come over but we stood our ground. She came over and we conversed briefly with the assistance of Pitt and my painfully stunted Spanish. Acquiring her number, I told her that I would call her later on.
So in about 5 mins, I had 4 reptilian prospects. Two from the road and one that I had accosted in the lobby plus the driver's 'hermana'.
I decided to home and prepare to capitalise. I was secretly hoping a few would flake. I didn't have enough ball sauce to explode inside four of them and from the dancing I had witnessed in the Gucci lounge, Dominicans can certainly give it out.
The first one that I had spoken to in my lobby earlier, sent me a message on whatsapp, saying that she was in my lobby and what my room number was. I told her what number and shortly I heard a knock on my door. I let her in. She looked as good as earlier and was dressed differently. I sat and spoke to her using my google app translate and inched closer to her.
Using my app also, she told me it would cost money to fcuk. Here we go, I thought, now seasoned in the movements out here.
"Cuanto?," I asked. How much?
She said a number in Dominican currency which worked out to 100 dollars.
"Es no bueno," I said. It's too much. She called out another figure that was about 80 dollars.
"Es malo," I said. I countered with a price that was about 15 dollars.
"No, no," she said. The lowest she was willing to go was 60 dollars. The highest I was willing to concede was zero dollars, really.
I wouldn't budge and she whispered into my google app which came out as..sorry, but we can't do anything then.
I smiled accordingly, having enjoyed the negotiation and thinking of the other four lizards in my line up. She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek and gave me a hug and then exited from my room. I sent a message to the masseuse lizard. She wasn't responding and I was happy because my heart was truly with the one with the round ass. Surely enough, the one with the round ass hit me via text and told me she was in my lobby and what my room number was. I told her.
She knocked on my door and I let her in and locked the door behind her. I ensured that my valuables were out of place. As I said, the sensuality in the place goes a long way. Her body was nice, the face wasn't all that but she carried herself sensually. From my past experience, I had never smelt anything foul from a Dominican lizard. Even if her place was the pits with nothing there, you can be sure that whatever she neglected, personal hygiene wasn't the issue. She excused herself and went to the bathroom. I assume to freshen up and urinate. They often recommend urinating before and after sex to flush out STDs. Obviously this doesn't substitute wearing a condom but it can help to offset that stubborn rash or burning that one can get when they are an active and prominent layperson.
She came back and took off her clothes. I was pleased to see the type of ass that I loved. Round and lovely. She looked at my package and said "Ay, mi Dios!".
I smiled smugly and allowed her to fellate me. I stood to the side of the bed and she was on all fours but leaning forward so that her torso lay on the bed as she sucked my pipe. To her favour, I had showered a few hours ago. It was quite hot in Ste Do and although it's a different heat as opposed to Florida, the ocean air sweeps away the humidity they claim, I think the fact that I was in a busy city just lent to the temperatures that my body was subject to.
I handed her my magnum when I was fully ready and she rolled it onto my wood using her mouth to complete the fit down my full length. She turned around and angled her bottom at me. Doggy style, my favourite. I eased myself inside her and she cried "Ow!"
Was her boyfriend/husband/pimp/john a worm?
"Sorry," I said in English and I began stroking. The angle was a bit odd and I wasn't getting the type of torque I wanted. I felt uncomfortable and uneasy but I needed to get this nutt off so I could sleep. The ordeal felt tiring and I had no desire to draw out this process. I tried to clench but felt my seed coming.
"Nggh", I grunted like an old man and deposited my load. She rolled over on her back with her legs spread and a thought darted across my head to give her cunnilingus. That's really not my thing and an area that I admit that I need to work on as I am aware of the fact that many of you readers eat vag and ass like it's gourmet dinner. She got up and went to the toilet to urinate. I rolled the used condom off my deflating member and watching the lizard's winking bottom in admiration.
When she returned, freshened up and put her clothes back on, she told me that she needed some money to get a bus back to El Conde (it was about a dollar). I gave her money for a taxi instead and lead her to the door. The hotel bed beckoned me and after I locked myself in (and her out) I fell onto the bed for a dreamless slumber.
THE NORWEGIANS
I was woken near midnight by my phone ringing. Pitt still wanted to go out and meet the Norwegian lizards. I answered the phone sleepily and heard his voice.
"Yo G, those girls want to meet, what you saying?," he asked. It was my last night in Ste Do. so I was up for that.
"Yea, I'm coming through, still," I said.
"Alright, hurry up, G, don't be too long," implored Pitt.
"For sure, bruv," I said and hung up and began to get dressed. I put on some beige trousers , a short black sleeved fitted shirt to hug my physique and some black shoes and then I hit the road. My walk from my hotel to El Conde was a brisk one. The shadows were looming, night shift Dominicans emerging from the ominous gloom to observe me with curious looks on their faces.
I met Pitt at El Conde in approximately 10 minutes. He asked me how I got there and I told him I walked as it wasn't far. He advised me against walking in that area as it was late and Dominican Republic can be sketchy. I nodded in understanding and we took a cab to the club where the Norwegians were at. This club was a higher end establishment of Ste Do. and I saw less of the raggedy cars that I saw earlier. No more 1980 Peugeot 504's but now more Toyota Camry's manufactured in the 21st century , BMWs and Range Rovers. I was impressed. The clientele at this club was the more whiter Dominicans and I didn't see as many beige people here as in for instance, the Gucci Lounge. The white Dominicans seemed to have the same type of ass as the sistas and I chalk that up to either genetics or surgery. There was an ass on a blonde that looked so protuberant that I was willing to sat it was surgery. Either way, those buns looked good enough to eat. The Norwegians weren't answering their call and I believe they had left their phone in the cab that they took the place by mistake. Only one of them had a phone and the other one was relying on her friend for cellular communication.
We entered the club looking for them, trying to match them on eye contact but to be honest, I couldn't remember them from the night before. We also met them in their night wear and you lot know that a lizard in the club is a totally different animal from the one you wake up to in the morning or that you see in the laundromat. Many times her beauty is left on the pillow that you had her face down in as you plowed her out from the back like a laborious farmer. Perhaps her look is more consistent if she's of Latina calling but these were European lizards from Western Europe and Western Europeans don't exactly overly exert themselves (in my experience) to bring their A-game to every location you see them in.
A good thing about clubs in Ste Do. is that you do not pay for entry. You can club hop freely and won't break a note. I can't speak for the rest of the country or for tourist locations, however.
After several eye scans in the very noisy and dimly lit club with lizards of all hues (but mostly white) grinding on dudes in there, we called it quits and stood outside to recoup. An old man walked by with concessions in a tray that he carried in his hands. Gum, sweets, cigarettes were his wares. Nearby, a black Dominican boy also had a tray but this was set beside him as he slept, sitting a chair on the sidewalk. My eyes continued to drink in the fine shapes and well dressed Dominican lizards milling in and out of the club.
Finally, we saw the two Norwegians. The blonde looked plastered but her brunette friend seemed to be more clued in. We spoke for a bit and decided to go to the club in the casino. It wasn't far from where we were and since Pitt knew the way, we set off to walk there. It was a fairly long walk but I enjoyed it.
We stopped to talk for a bit and I mentioned my travels. The blonde said she had been to quite a few places and mentioned having stayed in the Gambia for about 3 months. I knew why she went there, she didn't need to afford me any further details. I mentioned my travels and when I mentioned Jamaica, her eyes lit up like fireworks on Bonfire night.
"Good ganja!," she said with a lazy, assuring smile.
And other stuff, I thought, thinking of the rent-a-rasta culture that is in Yaad.
She asked if I was from the island and I said "No, my background is Nigeria."
Her expression clouded.
"A lot of scams from Nigerians," she said.
"It certainly can seem that way," I said.
Everyone has encountered a Nigerian and Norway is no exception.
We arrived at the casino in which the club was located upstairs on the first level. We entered the casino and ascended on the escalator to the second floor and after a very short line up, we entered the place. The Norwegians said they needed to use the toilet and vanished into the crowd. Pitt and I and posted up at the bar to purchase two bottles of Heineken. I noticed a lizard bubbling (dancing) near the bar so as I sipped my brew and spoke to Pitt, I took the opportunity to gyrate up against her bottom, London style. She looked around and me and smiled and reached around to fondle my cock. I smiled, feeling my cock harden. Pitt noticed what her hand was doing and asked me:
"Yo, is she feeling your dick, fam?"
"Yeah," I replied casually and we continued to discuss the game plan with the Norwegian lizards. I wasn't sure of what the Norwegians were up to and I didn't feel like pressing on them. As you already know, if it ain't a layup, I'm not going to waste my time hovering around and to be honest, I was drained from my blast in the round bottomed Dominicana from earlier so my motivation was waning. If anything, I wouldn't mind squirting in this rat fondling me at the bar. Pitt relocated to another part of the club near the entrance and I joined him, excusing myself from the grasp of the brazen Dominican lizard. She waved and said goodbye to me. I attempted to go and dance near the Norwegians who were dancing near a group of guys who had a hookah table set up. The blonde was behaving like a real blonde and seemed to be straddling dimensions of comprehension. Perhaps she was on some sort of drugs but I had no idea.
Santo Domingo brought me to this forum and I didn't really get the information that I wanted on my first trip. Seasoned this time in the art of travel, I tripled up and hit up some alternate travel forums, did some reading and let a few people know so that if they had people on the ground that could soften my landing and assuage my movements around the island, it would be appreciated. I let El Mechanico know and immediately he started sending me advice text messages whenever he got a break from his busy schedule. I sent a reacher message to Pitt via the forum and he responded a few days later telling me to hit him up when I arrived and where I was going to stay. Perhaps he thought I was just gassing and wasn't really going to arrive there. Some people will send messages asking for detailed information about places but never show up at all, almost like they are just compiling information for the sake of it.
My main concerns on this trip were somewhere to stay and how to get around the island. I wasn't too concerned regarding places to go once I had those two key caveats taken care of. It's always good to know where to go when one is limited for time. The problem with some places is that even though even though people can be very friendly and try to be helpful, they may often only know about their own personal circles and may not be able to make the best recommendations based on your constraints.
After putting the word around, reading some online forums and getting some info back from a few people, I tired of labouring over inert details and I bought my ticket on kayak.com. It cost about 440 dollars.
I felt excited and a bit apprehensive. The apprehension came from the fact that I am not fluent in Spanish and it's one thing to go somewhere that you are not from but to throw in the barrier of language difficulties is an additional hurdle. However, I'm no stranger to this and that's how it must always go down.
El Mechanico got me in touch with the driver. I hit him up with a phone call to get a breakdown of the rates and how to go about tackling the island. I called because often when I communicate people from other countries via social media i.e. family from Naija, I get the worse communications ever. Even though their phones are up to date with the latest messaging apps, the communication is stunted as if they pay through the nose for each letter they use. To cut through all that nonsense, I just call them and it's like you are speaking to a different person. The driver is a nice guy with flawless English and Spanish. He was busy as he has changed companies but would put me in touch with someone who could help me out with island transport. We decided to continue communication on whatsapp and I added him to my existing contacts. I hit up El Mechanico for advice on where to stay. He recommended the Hotel Riazor but wasn't sure on the price as he hadn't been there in a few years now. He said he had a nice balcony and was very close to the casino where one could gamble and hit on easy Dominican lizards. I asked on how to pay and he said sometimes cash or card. I was a tad skeptical with doing card payments long distance and after some deliberation and uncertainty about the hotel price, I decided to pay when I arrived. Since it was the islands, I felt that everything is better when people see you rather than hear some ephemeral voice on the phone that doesn't have my winning personality attached.
I doubled up on my bets by asking Pitt via message and he listed a place that I could show up at but the rate quoted was so cheap, I was concerned there had to be a catch. I kept that in mind however and worked on negotiations with the driver and his buddy. With that in mind, I let the driver know my arrival day and time. His friend would be there to pick me up from the airport. With that burden removed from my mind, I began to work on my travel accessories. I wondered what to wear and I again asked El Mechanico. He told me to take a custom suit with me and we both cackled loudly. I didn't want to look too touristy but I didn't want to be too bummy either. I noticed that in the islands, guys will often wear jeans as opposed to shorts even though the heat is always in the high 80s. This was the exact same in Naija.
I finally decided on bringing down some light trousers and khaki shorts. I would wear my flip flops for casual strolls around the area and then wear some cheap gray zip up shoes for my daily excursions. For nightlife, I would wear my dress shoes (Stacy Adams). I knew that I was going to look like a foreigner anyway, even though it's a black island so no matter how much I tried to disguise myself, I would stick out. I just didn't want to stick out blatantly, I desired to soften the blow. I got everything ready, determined which parking lot I would park at and then take the shuttle in to the airport from the parking lot (a cheaper one than the one that was literally on airport grounds, a mistake I learnt last year). I tried to get my phone unlocked but was unable to having left it too soon so I just increased my high speed data allowance and notified my phone company that I would be travelling to Santo Domingo. I also downloaded the Google translate app. I called my bank and notified them when I would be travelling and returning so that if there were any spending anomalies during that time frame, they were to freeze the card. I drew out some cash from the bank and when the teller there, a young white American male, heard of my destination, his eyes lit up with excitement. I felt good.
I set my alarm to wake up early for my departure. When I got up, I decided I needed a final few things and stopped at Wal-Mart to buy a pair of trousers, a collared short sleeved shirt and a box of condoms. I couldn't find them and asked the night staff in Wal-Mart where they were at. The woman working there, a black lizard seemingly in her late 20s lit up and was practically intrusive, asking me what brand I wanted. I was tired and didn't bite the bait. It was Magnums large that worked best for me but I just kept mumbling condoms which is a throwback to my British reserved upbringings.
I really should have said "Ho, how about you gimme yo digits so I can drop it off in you when I get back from where I'm gittin to?" but I was focused on my journey. Almost slightly disappointed, she led me to where the condoms were relocated to and then returned to her aisle to continue to tally stock.
I made my purchase, got in my car and got to the airport in more than adequate time. My flight was not direct but stopped in Panama. Panama was initially on my trip but I had a vendetta with DR and I wanted to settle it. I flew with a Panamanian airline and when I checked in, the guy there hit me up with some fast Spanish even though we were still in the US. From that, I was guessing that a good percentage of Panamanians are of a 'tanned' persuasion. I said "Mi espanol es no bueno" and he smiled and switched to English. I checked my luggage in and took an uncomfortable seat in the departure lobby and stretched out on a few of them to try and grab a restless sleep before my plane arrived. I had about an hour and a half to wait. I had a nice beginner's book in Spanish but as I thumbed through it on the flight, I put it away and chose instead to rely on my sharp memory and humility in absorbing this new tongue.
When I arrived in Panama, I did a quick scan of the lizards there. I wasn't really impressed and apart from seeing one lizard with a nice body, the rest of them were nothing to write home about. However, the airport may not be an accurate representative of a country so I can't really use that as final judgement and this is a testimony to my travelling experience.
I got on the plane to Santo Domingo shortly. When we arrived in Santo Domingo, I remember the first time when I went and the need to pay some kind of tax. I think that may have been an extra for noobs coming in as some kind of tourist package as no such line or formality existed here. I lined up apprehensively as I did when I was in Lagos, braced for a sting but it never came. I knew I was back in Hispanola because a lizard working there, directing passengers to the appropriate lines in accordance to their citzenship, basking in sensuality, spoke in Spanish to a female passenger who was asking for some sort of information. The lizard who worked here, leaned on me as if we were partners, her arm resting on my shoulder as a prop as she spoke to the woman. I smiled to myself. Bienvenido a Santo Domingo! This was a sharp contrast to the West where a lizard wouldn't just do this unless she was intoxicated AND in some kind of night club or informal setting.
My eyes scanned the average look of the people in Santo Domingo. They appeared to be mostly of the beige look and took pride in that hair looking like Giancarlo Esposito. My look was definitely in the minority. This made no difference and I didn't get any vibes or bad feelings. I scanned the throng of people keenly trying not to make too much eye contact. I saw my driver's friendly face and I walked over to him. He was another beige cat with a friendly face and small eyes with a slight slant to them like he had a touch of Asian running through his DNA. We made our way to his car. His English was as dead as Thanksgiving turkey but I loved this as this gave me a chance to really brush up on my Spanish. My Spanish was really forced into motion.
We made our way into the airport parking lot. The cars were beat the fcuk up, by and large but I've been to Lagos so this was nada but enchiladas and pradas so after loading my sole piece of luggage which was really a carry on into the back seat of his car, we drove off. I had my Google translator app open and fed words into it as we conversed. The driver (the original driver) called up and spoke with the friend, he put me onto the phone and we spoke briefly. He asked me where I was going to say. I told him Hotel Riazor and this was conversed to my current driver. As we drove along, I ogled the country. This was the real Dominican Republic. No resort shyt this time. The driving was disorderly to no surprise of mine and the roads were littered with old vehicles and buses stuffed with an assortment of people. I started to notice a mixture of people of different hues and not just purely beige as I saw in the airport. Again, I just mention this for observational purposes as at no time did I feel anything odd.
When we got to Hotel Riazor, we parked up by the roadside and went in. I told the guy at the reception that I desired a room and he looked through the guest logs, an old worn exercise book with the A5 sized paper sheets.
He shook his head.
"No rooms left," he said, solemnly. I didn't really feel concerned as I was in Ste Do. and the driver and his friend seemed to be committed to ensure that my stay would be without concern. They were giving me the lowdown on the real D.R. When we got back to the car, the driver's friend relayed the info to the driver who had an alternative. He let us know about another place, still within the hub of the city and not far from el conde (Zona Colonial). This place was called Jecasergian Hotel.
Jecasergian Hotel
The reception at the Jercaergian was manned by two beige cats. One looked more GQ with the slick hairdo and his compadre was a smaller built dude with braces in his mouth. The GQ dude had passable English and his partner had zero. I could pay per day and the price was in accordance to what I liked which freed up more space on my budget. The smaller cat with braces took me to my room which was on the 3rd floor (or 2nd floor, for my British readers).
The room was nice and clean. He decided to move me into a more spacious room (at the same rate per day). The place came equipped with WiFi, a room safe, working AC and a small fridge where one could store refreshments such as beers, rum or food. The bathroom was clean and the water pressure to the sink, toilet and shower was good. I had no complaints. I was a tad concerned about the possibilities of insects getting in my room via the open window in the bathroom but these concerns were unfounded. My room stayed bug free and subsequently, my limbs and torso remained bite free. At the end of the corridor on each floor, there was a water cooler with plastic cups sealed in a plastic container and stacked on top of one another. The one on my floor was often empty but I had taken the opportunity to go to the ground floor when parched. I needed the exercise as I have been slacking on my cardio in America due to the state that I am in and just general affairs that I have to address in my daily routines. The ground floor also had a coffee dispenser. The Dominicans take their coffee sweetened. This was no gourmet coffee by any means but it exceeded my expectations. Besides, I am not a big coffee drinker anyway and I just needed something to keep the post lunch monkey off of my back and away from my eyelids. As I was told, you have plenty of time to sleep when you are old. So for the purpose of staying awake and active, that was effective.
The workers at the front desk were helpful. The main guy, the beige GQ cat with the usual Indian looking hair (possibly slicked into form with gel) that many beige Dominican men seemed to be so proud of, had the best English and knowledge of what was going on in the area. His co workers, although equally as nice and helpful, were stunted when it came to English.
However, with my keenness to learn and the trusted Google translate app, I got along just fine. In the evenings, armed Dominican police officers manned the reception area, using the communal PC there to browse Facebook and maybe dating sites. I know they were on face book because I snipe shoulder surfed from a distance as I waited for my driver to arrive and I saw the familiar landing page of Facebook.
The officers were armed with those assault rifles that one tends to see in the Caribbean, weapons of imminent and deadly intent.
I received a steady stream of text messages during the trip from el mechanico like a coach offering advice and counters to maximise my stay. He suggested that I go to the casino and play even though I don't gamble. I have limited interest in sitting around the tables playing but he said that didn't matter and that worked very well for him on his last visit. I told him I would like to go to the clubs and he said that they would only be playing loud annoying Dominican music in the clubs. He warned me about the cheap Chinese car alarms that I would hear each morning blaring and interrupting my sleep.
PITT
I finally met Pitt in El Conde. I had spoken to him before on Skype and he asked me numerous times when I would come down to Ste Do but the timing wasn't right and you don't get a lot of vacation time in America. But finally, able to squeeze off a few days, I made the trip and here I was. He walked up with swagger, some Jordan trainers (to my recollection) and wearing shades. Pitt is a cool guy with a lot of energy. He has an unapologetic lust for culo redondo (round ass) and reminds me of the original London that I know where the lads and I would feed exclusively off of road game. I marvelled at his ability to switch to Spanish flawlessly and barter with a Dominican (who are always trying to over charge for services etc). As we hung out, he was hollaring constantly at lizards that tickled his fancy. We walked through El Conde, talking. He broke down DR for me. He lived right in the cut, in the stream of action and as we stood there, looking at sexy lizards walk by. I remember those days and they reminded me of summers in London.
We met up in the evening in El Conde and walked Zona Colonial towards the casino. I drank in the sights, smells and sounds as I walked along and my heart leapt with excitement at every fifth step I took. It felt good to be alive. A short man accosted us with some flyer in his hand. At first Pitt brushed him away, it seemed he was trying to draw us into some club of some sort but then realising that it was my first time in Ste Do, he decided to take the man up on his offer and we went into an establishment only about 50 feet from the main street that we walked along. When we entered the place, it had the layout of a bar. The place was crammed with sexily clad women in there who sat around loafting, some at the bar nursing a drink. As they realised our presence, they all jumped to attention like an army drill and formed a long line looking lasciviously at us. I'm no expert but I knew their intent. Their looks were very much in alignment with what I liked and I averted my gaze not willing to make eye contact. I chose to take this course of action because I'm not yet gifted in the art of shoring and preferred to look rather than partake.
"Which one you like, G?," asked Pitt and I looked at one with a look that the driver's friend would describe as 'Indian'. Her body and soft features made me happy. But in all honesty, all the lizards in there could get it. They had more onions than an Italian grocery store and this could make a grown man cry.
"Bruv, they are all fine," I responded. Pitt thought for a moment and then we exited the place and continued our journey to the casino.
When we entered the casino, we looked around. Many people were gathered around the tables, playing the card games or dice games. They had sexy female croupiers in there and Pitt always on game, spat those lyrics at a few that were either new or that he knew in the past. I wasn't focused too much on those details as my senses were bombarded by the new surroundings, culture and the totally foreign language to my ears. The lizards weren't really biting or were stalling so we left the premises. We got a taxi back to my street where my hotel was located which was only about a minute from where Pitt stayed. I knew the general location but I still wasn't sure where my hotel was at this time. I was still having problems pronouncing some of the words here. I walked up the street looking at the hotels, my eyes racing and hustling for a familiar landmark and I saw two white lizards, a blonde and a brunette in what looked like night clothes, ambling casually along the street. The blonde one shot a long and brazen look at me but I was focused on finding my room plus wasn't interested in white lizard so I ignored this semi obvious signal.
I noticed that the duo was stopped later on by Pitt, who is forever on watch and he sparked up a convo with them. I finally found my hotel and then I doubled back to tell the cabbie and Pitt of my discovery, I was introduced as the guy from London and I was a bit surprised to hear the Nordic blonde with a very clear English accent. We made arrangements to meet a couple of days later. I spudded (dapsed) Pitt and I retired for the rest of the night into my hotel.
SAMBIL MALL
The next day, I went with the driver's friend to Sambil Mall which was a bit more upscale than Agora mall. The items in here were very expensive for Dominican standards and I found that the trainers (sneakers/running shoes) sold in here were priced exorbitantly. One regular pair of running shoes that I normally see for around 90 dollars worked out if you converted it from Dominican pesos back to US dollars at approximately 173 dollars which was almost twice the amount. Clearly only foreigners or big wigs would be buying from these stores. Although I had a lot of energy from the excitement of being in a different place, I was lapsing at time and this was no time to sleep. As told before, you have plenty of time to sleep when you are old. El Mechanico had spurred me at one night when I was burnt out and said that he saw 70 year old Germans up all night, playing cards in the casino and doing things and he did have a point. I grabbed a black coffee straight from a coffee store in the mall and sipped it as I looked around at the pedestrian traffic. On the level just below, I watched a Dominican lizard in the entrance of a phone store speak to a man who may or may not have worked there. Music was playing and she laughed and began to rotate her hips in some sort of dance. My penis jumped hungrily in delight and anticipation. I finished my coffee and went to buy a padlock for my suitcase and then buy some Imodium from the pharmacy there just in case I got hit with the bubblies. I had been drinking water recklessly from various sources such as the cooler in the hotel and eating from regular eateries. The last time I was in DR, my stomach turned to liquid and I wasn't keen on revisiting such an experience.
The driver's friend spoke with the worker there, another sexy beige female and they laughed about some condoms that were on sale right at the front. I noticed that they did not hide the contraceptives in a discreet aisle like they do in the United States but had them on front display like some kind of promotion. I bought my Imodium and then we left the store.
On the way down to the lower level where we parked, I noticed a group of young Dominican lizards that walked casually through the store. They stood in front of us and took the escalator and my eye was particularly piqued by the taller, black one. These days I like taller lizards and she had a nice bottom. I watched her unabashedly from the back and she, as if with some sort of telepathy, reached back to pinch and free the material of her pink tights stuck in the crevice of that wonderful ass. I wasn't actually thinking lust like I normally assign my mind to after hearing many lizards in America talk but I was actually seeing the lizards and the mentality that had once been present in the West, the behaviour of a real woman. She wasn't fat and I kept imagining if she was in America, especially the part I am, she would be a fat ass. It was a bit of a culture shock to see so many women in shape and I doubt that they possess gym memberships like they do out here. What they do possess however, is discipline memberships and they use these daily and renew them monthly. Discipline to eat cooked food and not processed food and discipline to eat in ration.
After purchasing some cheap swimming trunks (just tacky bermuda shorts for under a buck in a local supermarket), I rode with the dude to Boca Chica which is teeming with darker skinned Dominicans. I say this because the look that I seem to see as a majority in Santo Domingo is that beige look with the Indian hair (which these guys seem to love dearly). Regular black look is second and then dark skinned and white, I don't see as much of. Remember however, that I am in the heart of Santo Domingo and not in the uppity areas so I can only speak on what I see. I was told that is the colour scheme of wealth in that island and since the people with money tend to be more in Santo Domingo, I would see more of a beige look than black. Now the fact that I listed a certain minority which I might insert myself into doesn't mean that if you are black, jet black or white you will experience issues because I don't believe you will. For example, the two Nordic lizards from last night expressed no fear or concern.
BOCA CHICA
The drive to Boca Chica was about an hour and the driver's friend had asked if he could bring his sister along. "Sure", I replied as three can travel as easily as two in a car and we stopped by some spot near an outdoor market and she got in the car. She was a pretty very smooth skinned beige Dominican lizard. However, my penis was settled because I don't make a habit of lusting over people's sisters unless she is mind blowing and giving off a strange slut energy, which she was not.
The traffic here is insane and the driver's friend seemed to be impressed that I'm not tense from how close we are to tankers, trucks, motoconchos and pedestrians darting across the highway. They must have telepathy as I saw a sexy light skinned Dominicana casually pick her way through an unrest of relentless traffic and blaring horns with the same serenity on her face as if she were alone in her bedroom applying makeup. She sidestepped a few darting cars and I watched her face on both occasions and her indifference was amazing. I saw the driver I was with almost clip some guy with dreads on a motorbike (no helmet, of course!) on our way to la playa (the beach). I looked at the guy's face keenly and his level of relaxation was on par with someone who has smoked a whole bag of cess and just bust a heavy nut.
In Boca Chica, I got a beach massage from two dark skinned Dominican women who had their hands roaming all over me, mumbling stuff in Spanish that my brain said 'Fcuk it, don't watch that' to. They took my top off and I almost felt like a bitch getting undressed by some smooth talking mack. One of the women had her hands under my shirt to begin with, working out the knots in my traps and my upper back. The other one pitched in and started to work my skull and my waist. Thoughts of sex momentarily fired across my perverted mind but these lizards were solid 4s and I wanted to see what later on would bring as I had worked out with Pitt that we would be hitting a spot in the hood. These days, I am very picky about wasting my semen and I'd rather hold out than hit anything moving.
We ordered a bottle of brugal 150 dark rum and a few mineral waters (sodas). The driver's friend and his sister wanted to go in the water. I wasn't too inspired to go in the sea as there was an ominous sheet of algae floating everywhere but the driver's friend insisted that it was fine. His sister, a smooth skinned beige A rastafarian came up, looking like he literally emerged from the ocean. His hands and feet seemed to be borne of a life of labour and a roots type of man and he started talking. Our server at the table muttered in annoyance that the man was a partaker of droga and cocaina and went back to the bar after taking our order. The rasta began speaking to me and asked me where I'm from. I told him that I am from London, England. He told me that he was from Jamaica but lived in England for about 10 years. I didn't hear a lick of any Jamaican essence in his accent. I was hearing more of a Bajan ring to his voice but don't quote me exactly. What I will go to the bank on is that ol' boy was NOT Jamaican. To confirm this, I asked him which parish in Jamaica he was from.
"Kingston, man!," was his slightly indignant reply. Kingston is NOT a parish. It's a city IN the parish of St Andrews, Jamaica. As I thought, ol' boy was gassing (making up stories) but whatever, I wasn't going to shake his story. I knew he was going to pitch for a donation and I listened patiently to his pitch as I sipped the rum and surely enough after a while he made his bid but I had zero funds on me. I told him so and then went to the toilets to change into the cheap shorts that I bought in the supermarket (equivalent to 79 US cents) so that I could swim. After some persuasion from the driver and his bikini clad sister, I reluctantly went in the water which had floating algae everywhere. The water was slightly cold to begin with but got a lot warmer and very comfortable afterwards. I got over the concern of things floating up to me as it was so dark I could hardly see at some point. A white lizard and a dark lizard splashed around in the water. I was thinking that they might be foreign and speak something other than Spanish as I didn't have my google translate app with me in the water and I wanted to ask them a question. However, they didn't speak a lick of English and after several failed sign language attempts (my question was complicated), I gave it and returned to the area where the driver's friend and his sister splashed in the sea and chattered in Espanol.
Afterwards, we emerged from the sea, with everything around us concealed in darkness and after settling the bill, we dried off by the car and made our way back to Santo Domingo.
GUCCI LOUNGE
Pitt had asked me earlier if I wanted to go to a club in the hood. This would be an experience for me and I agreed. I would meet Pitt around 10:30pm that night and he would come along with his girl and her friend. I told my transporter the time I needed him available and I went home to rest my body and write up what I had done so far. I hydrated myself back at the hotel and rested for a bit under the cool respite of the AC. Eventually I took a shower, selected my appropriate body oils and outfit and went down to meet my transporter. I was a bit surprised to see he had his lizard in there from earlier. I wasn't sure why she was there when I told him how many people would be in the car but I realised that in DR, people don't listen exactly to what you tell them. I guess someone would have to sit in one's lap. Given the hotness and sensuality of the lizards in the DR, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.
When we met Pitt in El Conde, he was there with only his girl. Her friend wasn't with her. This was good as I didn't know why the transporter brought the other lizard along and I communicated this to Pitt in London slang.
Pitt and his girl hemmed into the back seat alongside the driver's sister who had now changed her outfit into a black night dress.
When we got to the area, I told the driver to have a good night and I got out of the car with Pitt and his girl.
Outside the club ala the Gucci Lounge, two guys on stilts ambled along gracefully doing some kind of promotional performance. That night, Gucci Lounge was going to be featuring a prominent Dominican dembow dominican artist called Chimbala. Opposite the club on the other side of the road, a man grilled meat and vegetables on his BBQ and he was positioned outside of a store which had confectionary inside including bottled water etc.
Shortly, a taxi pulled up and his girl's friend popped out of the ride. She was a nice beige lizard in some tight jean shorts sporting some nice legs and doelike eyes. Not bad.
Pitt was a bit hungry and wanted to eat before we got in. I decided that would be a good idea and would order some food as well. We ordered from the street vendor grilling the meat and vegetables on his street barbecue. We ate and discussed as Pitt's lizard and her friend stood by. Afterwards, I got a bottle of water inside the store, drank it and then we got ready to go into the Gucci lounge. At the door, we were patted down by a black Dominican in a suit. We entered the lounge. The music inside was blaring with a loud assortment of what El Mechanico calls Dominican noise, lol. I could hardly pick a word of what was being said because of the noise and because my Spanish bites but what made this different from some modern day rap music like for instance, many if not all of Future's tracks?
However..I loved it and I will be updating my music collection pronto. I like it because it reminds me of the dancehall raves I used to attend back in the days in London when Shabba, Beenie, Buju and Merciless were popping. It has the same tempo, same drums.
We had reserved a table in the VIP section. The VIP section stood aside from the regular floor by on a higher level (only elevated by two steps though). It was crowded, standing room only. Our table was positioned right in the corner and it had a bucket of ice on it with a large bottle of rum and a couple of bottles of 911 which was the Dominican equivalent of Red Bull. The bottle of rum had a stopper on it so the rum trickled at an even rate to prevent a more heavy handed individual from pouring disproportionate rounds for himself. A hookah device was set up there with an ignition point below the table that ensured the hookah smoke keeps flowing. The light for the hookah went out often but there was a guy on hand to reignite it. I don't smoke hookah and neither does Pitt but the lizards indulged and they seemed quite happy. The music blared loudly and I looked around with interest. I was feeling good vibes and energy and also a level of curiosity. I'm pretty sure the Dominicans in there knew we were outsiders.
Everytime I go somewhere, I try to absorb something from my encounter there and I was trying to get some Latin music movements down on lock. As the music tempo increased to a crescent when the dembow blared, the crowd was in alliance with the chorus and chants and then I saw many lizards twerking wildly. My heart throbbed with happiness and desire. Pitt's lizard twerked happily in the corner, her friend matched her oscillations and all around us, Dominican females wedged sexily into body hugging outfits twerked. I could see why many men lose their minds over this.
A black Dominicana in a black dress who was rotating her backside with a hypnotic roll to the dembo caught my eye when I went to the toilet and I noticed her staring at me on multiple occasions with intent. She was at a table with a Dominican man and I've never been the type to take another man's food knowingly. As you lot may know, my vice is a big, rounded arse which I quickly learnt how to say in Espanol (redondo culo) and I don't think that will change anytime soon. When I entered the toilets, they were clean but I noticed a tub of hair gel on the sink near where you washed your hands. This Indian hair thing is serious in the Dominican Republic! When I returned, I danced with the friend of Pitt's lizard as the bachata came on and she 'seemed' impressed with my waist movements which have improved since I moved to Florida (in my opinion). She gestured and said for a noob (newbie/beginner/rookie), I seemed to be doing well and picking it up fast. Right now, the language sounded like a rapid blur of words but I trusted my brain to decode it at some point and although the time frame that l was there was short, it's a case of adaptation.
I noticed a few people looking at me in the club. I've been referred to as 'El Americano and I don't think the fact that 'Yo soy de Ingleterra' has registered as firmly with them. Chimbala showed up accordingly and began to spit his verses, galvanising the crowd. He was another beige cat with a big head that hosted that much loved Dominican gelled Indian hair and was sporting shades. The energy in the club was good.
Towards the latter part of the night, the Ludacris song 'Move Bitch' came on and Pitt and I threw our hands up and began to thug dance it out, howling the words "if you doing the speed limit, get the fcuk out of my way etc".
It was great and that moment is coded into my brain like a MAC address burned onto a NIC card. Not gonna change anytime soon.
ISABELLA
Towards 3am in the morning as the Gucci Lounge was dying down, Pitt convened with me and wanted to go outside to see what the lizard situation was like. There were a lot in the club ogling us and we were kids in a candy shop with unlimited choice.
At the entrance of the club, he spotted the lizard in black who had been twerking earlier standing across the street with a few other lizards seated near a vendor of beer. His eyes gleamed. It appears that Pitt and I have the same tastes in reptile.
He went over to her and began to spit game at her in Spanish. She smiled and I saw her look at me. Not wanting (or needing to intervene), I let Pitt build up the momentum to our foreign status and I moved closer. He said something like 'we are not Jamaican so we are not afraid to eat pussy." and she smiled again.
I inched even closer and put my hand brazenly on her buttocks, finding them firm and pliable. She didn't resist and allowed me to palm her buns freely. I very much wanted to fcuk her. Pitt continued to spit at her and then came over to me.
"Yo, G, Isabella is down. I think we can run a train on her," he said.
I wasn't exactly the train type of guy but what happens in DR, right?
I asked Isabella if I could take some pictures and told her to cock out that delightful bottom of hers. She arched it out in compliance and I took a few snaps from a few different angles.
Isabella had to go home that night but Pitt got her number and arranged to meet up the following day. We hailed a cab. I asked Pitt if I could fcuk his girl's friend that night. He asked his girl and she said that her friend doesn't really fcuk that quickly. Bollocks. I had no time however for LMR as I was playing with a shot clock (quote: Superman) and pressed for time in terms of seeing the city as well as slamming punani.
I took the girl's number and we got into the cab together. We dropped the girl off first. I looked at where she lived, some ramshack building where a bunch of Dominicans hung out outside around some oil drums. It was about 4am in the morning. She stopped to talk to them for a moment. We drove off. Poverty doesn't spare beauty but operates entirely on chance.
My Spanish was being forced along in leaps and bounds as the dude I was rolling with since I got there knew zero English and my Spanish is extremely paltry. I kept inadvertently pulling French words out during the drive to Boca Chica and got total blank looks from the driver and his hermana. I've been leaning heavily on Google translate to drag words out. I love that they can't speak English because I've been chatting about this bilingual thing for a while and pussyfooting around. Give me 3 months there and my Spanish would be flawless, I would be blending in like Terminator 2.
BREAKFAST AND THE DANCER
I finally heard the cheap Chinese car alarms in the morning. It didn't do much to disrupt my sleep but it was funny the way El Mechanico described them. I have no idea why they go off in unisioneach morning but so be it.
After a busy night out, I made my way to the lobby area close to 11am. There was a nice joint that I went to a few days ago with my driver. The food was delicious and was traditional Dominican food. Plantains, chicken, beef, rice and avocados to say the least and seasoned very well.
In the lobby area, a woman in lingerie sat in the seats near to the communal PC, flicking away on her smartphone. She looked like a lizard from East Africa (again, perhaps Eritrea, Ethiopia or even Somalia). The mixing that goes on and went on in DR if you combine the African slaves brought over, with Spaniard Europeans and the indigenous Indians residing on the island makes for all sorts of looks and although Santo Domingo is dominated by the beige folk from my glance, the looks are not locked in. You see all sorts of complexions of black and I was routinely stumped.
I hardly even blinked at the lizard's semi nudity in this public thoroughfare due to desensitisation from regular exposures of living in a slack part of the United States, seasoning from age and travel and other ingredients so I queried the guy behind the front desk as to where to go for breakfast. I really didn't want to occupy my day planning around lizards but at some point it would be a good idea to start stacking reptiles as I had done zero online scouting prior to my visit and my tenure on this beautiful island was slowly coming to completion.
I tried to communicate the best I could in my butchered Spanish and leaning heavily on Google translate about the joint I went to a few days prior to the guy at the front desk.. We stuttered along but Dominicans are very patient when it comes to learning their language. I rarely saw a rattled Dominican and I'm sure they must have found it tedious to listen to me struggle in the shallow water while they comfortably float in the deep end when it comes to understanding and ease of their Spanish language.
He asked the lady sitting there for assistance for the place I wanted to go to. Her English wasn't great either. She mentioned that she had a guy she knew that could drive me around immediately and I declined that.
I saw the guy making some facial expressions at me as in "Get that ho!" and I thought to myself, fcuk it, talk to her.
My thing with game is that I'm not always on. I operate in independent channels which don't operate together. Some guys I know are always on game, antennas always up and can sniff an opportunity in seemingly innocent areas. I have had the tendency to miss layups in that fashion and that's an area that I have to work on. Some guys are so good that they don't actually need to go to a night spot to pick up lizards and have a steady supply just from regular day game!
I whipped out my phone and punched in the following into google translate:
"I would like to get your number so we can hang out later."
I read this to her like a simpleton, in Spanish. She paused for a moment as if to think and then said sure and gave me her number. I smiled and said I would whatsapp her later.
Having gotten an idea from the convo between the two of them and a quick search in google, I figured out the spanish name of the place 'Villar Hnos'. I walked out of the hotel into the warm Dominican sun and made my way to where I figured it was. I knew that people would look occasionally and place me as an American but there was nothing I could do about this. The street I was on, had about 3 or 4 hotels on it and it was the same street that the Norwegian lizards were staying on. It was safe and people were friendly (apart from the usual semi hustle to try and sell something on occasion).
During my breakfast in the Villar Hnos, I loaded up my Whatsapp but saw some stocky looking dude's pic for the number associated with the one the lizard in the lobby gave me. I sent a message perhaps she was dodging men and got no response.
When I finished my meal and went back, she was still there flicking through her phone.
"Hey," I said via the power of the translate app. "Is that your correct number? I see someone different on whatsapp."
She said that she had another number and gave some excuse which I didn't give two fcuks for. I got her other number down and saw that her pic loaded up in accordance with this current phone number.
"I'll call you later," I repeated as before and went into my room to chill for a bit before hitting the road.
THE MAID
I returned to my room to find my bed neatly made and my laptop put to the side on the side table. My suitcase was as it was, left open, with my box of Magnum condoms open as I left them, with protection strewn over my folded clothes. Concerned for the safety of my possessions, I quickly scanned through my belongings but found nothing missing. I still intended to buy a small lock for my suitcase just for peace of mind. I still couldn't believe my daily room rate.
I was having issues with my AC in my room. I didn't know how to turn it on and the maid had turned it off while I was not there to cut down on electricity and what have you. This made perfect sense, it's all about reducing one's carbon footprint. However, I was back and needed a nap and although I have trained myself to withstand hot temperatures, now was not the time to put myself to the test. I went out of my room into the corridor to look around. I saw the maid and another guy in one of the other rooms, the door ajar as they cleaned. I fired up my google translate app and summoned the maid to my assistance.
"How do you turn on the AC?," I blurted out in appalling Spanish. She smiled gently and walked with me back into my room. There was something about her air of movement that made me wonder if she was up for the pipe and this was a fantasy of mine, slamming the help. From the time frame since I had discovered my room cleaned and to where I saw her, made me realise that she was very likely the same person that I had cleaned my room. I doubted that the hotel contracted out multiple companies to clean the rooms, it was just one service. She showed me the remote to turn the AC on and the wall switch to manipulate the fan. I realised that she had seen my condoms. This country was baking in sex. There was no shame in a man being a man! She left and I decided that I would like to save my semen for another more hapless hag.
THE MALL AND BOSTON BEANS
The next day, I got up around 10:30 and checked my phone. I got a message from Pitt and an action plan. I weighed up another Spanish lesson with the driver's friend and decided to take it back to the roots with Pitt and combine the mobility offered by the driver's friend. We went to a mall inland where we would conduct day game. We drove through an area that reminded me of a combination of Brixton, Peckham and Lagos market. There was a whole heap of people and some very old ass cars. It was a Saturday so people were out doing what they had to do on a Saturday.
Pitt reminds me of some of the West Indian men I used to roll with back in the days. He was conversing comfortably with the driver and friend in Spanish and then exclaimed loudly pointing at a lizard walking through the busy market area. Due to traffic, we were moving at a walking pace in the car and Pitt jumped out of the car, closed the door and ran over to a lizard who is walking alongside the pavement in this busy market area to spit game. Pitt's approach and mindset is the most important aspect of organic game. Effort. It's impossible for Pitt to lose, he spits too much for that to happen.
Some minutes later, Pitt ran up to our car which was painfully ambling on due to the balls to walls traffic and got back in. I smiled warmly. Reminded me of the old London.
We got out at the mall and I told the driver that I would let him know when we were ready to go.
This mall had a movie theatre in it. This was the real Dominican Republic, Santo Domingo and one could really get a feel of how an average Dominican living would get around here. I felt like I was in a film and my brain was constantly challenged. Nothing was in English but my Spanish was getting better by the minute..by force! Pitt was hungry (we agreed to eat breakfast at the mall) so we went to the food court. Deciding on Chinese (served by Dominicans naturally), we sat down to eat and exchange philosophies. It was evident to me that Dominicans knew that I was a foreigner and guessed at me being an 'American'. As I spoke passionately about certain observations with Pitt, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a few patrons watching us with interest. I was going into deep London slang with Pitt but I wasn't sure about the fluency of the people around us.
When we finished eating, we walked around and Pitt's eyes darted like a seasoned hunter, scanning the mall for ass. Pitt is configured like me in terms of sexual preference and when we hunt, either we bring in enough crop to share or horns will be locked.
I was getting thirsty quite quickly. Although I had a drink with my Chinese, I usually find such food is heavily salted. Soft drinks in the West Indies often has a bit more sugar than it does in Europe and North America (I know this because I did a taste test when I went to the Coca Cola factory in Atlanta). Regardless of which, I felt like I needed to drink water every 20 mins (I usually only drink water in America). To add to boot, we were walking everywhere and the heat in Dominican was substantial although not quite as humid as Miami or Nigeria. Those two locations have trained me well and enabled me to walk through the West Indies without complaining like an unruly child.
We scouted around looking for a drink. Pitt paused on alert as we saw a lizard with a decent ass in some jeans that walked with some other older women, probably family members. She looked East African to me (possibly from Eritrea). Pitt ran a few internal queries about whether to go for it and we kept watching. We decided to get the water from this big supermarket within the mall as the water would be cheaper than buying it from the food court or from the first point we saw. I continued to spit knowledge at Pitt who listened but had his antennas up, scouting the prospects around. We saw the same East African lizard in the checkout line with her family and Pitt stared at her brazenly as we walked past. She turned to follow our gaze and smiled. She had an ass on her but I wasn't sure if the jeans were doing her justice.
After we purchased the water, we saw the East African lizard again and this time Pitt beckoned to her. She walked over accompanied by the other females in her group. Pitt's technique was to spit Spanish but not too fluently so that the lizards can determine that he's not a local as that gives him an edge above them. The lizard responded in perfect English with an American accent.
"You speak English!," said Pitt with some slight surprise in his voice. "Yes," said the lizard. She told us that she was from Boston but her parents were Dominican and she was in Santo Domingo for one year. We spoke in English with Pitt pretty much heading the dialogue between herself and him/us.
Numbers were exchanged and we headed out. I told Pitt that the Dominican look was indeed amazing and has a wide spectrum. We saw another lizard with a whole heap of ass and a fat friend going to the cinema within the mall to watch a film. Pitt accosted her and she responded with strong English.
Again, Pitt queried her as to where she learned English from and she had learned it from a language school. She was a bit of a nerd and I was now getting an insight to the middle class and normal Dominicans. DR is like any other country. Just because it's a 3rd world country, it doesn't mean people are any different or have any different aspirations than the average North American or European. They have the same desires, fantasies but due to culture, the approach varies somewhat. What I could take from this is that the Western culture is strong and pervasive so that even though it is from an Anglo standpoint, it penetrates into the Latin countries and affects those coming up particularly the youngsters who often intake a steady sustenance of Western entertainment as they grow up. This showed a bit of a contrast and balance to the streetwalkers and poon merchants that I mostly encountered on my first visit. Pitt asked her for her number but she seemed hesitant so Pitt cancelled her out and we exited the mall. As we waited for a taxi that seemed reliable (you can't just grab any cab in DR as some guys are just scammers or even worse) we saw a lizard with a nice ass. Pitt hit her up in Spanish and although her body language seemed like she was trying to get away, she still stood around for Pitt to hit her up with his game. I smiled and felt like I was taken back to the golden years in the UK when me and the boys just used to spit game during the summer at prospective lizards.
Pitt is a fast thinker and makes decisive moves. DR is not the place where you need to overthink when it comes to punany especially with the leverage of an expat. Action is better than inertia.
Lizards aren't really doing much particularly on the lower tier and your suggestions are better than her alternatives, which is often doing nothing.
The SLAM
Santo Domingo was alive with so many things going on. I conversed with Pitt as we posted up on the pedestrian thoroughfare in El Conde about Isabella from the previous night at the Gucci lounge. She had a big arse and we were planning to run a train on her that afternoon but she had not responded to phone calls or texts that day. It was my last evening on the island and for you readers (and slightly for me), I needed to release inside a female from this country. I keenly scanned the pedestrian traffic on this car less street. A lizard approached me and asked me if I wanted a massage, gesturing to an all purpose salon she was obviously recruiting clientele for on the opposite side of the street. Her English was fairly decent.
"No," I smiled, dodging the hustle. "But I would like something else massaged."
She smiled at my insinuation and pressed further, offering that I go inside and try it for five minutes for free. I had already had my all black massage in Boca Chica from the dark skinned lizards so I respectfully declined the offer.
Just then, a text message from my driver came in asking if I was interested in his 'sister'.
I laughed loudly to myself. I loved this place.
"Sure," I responded via text and sent another text to the lizard I had met in the lobby. She was available for an encounter later on that evening.
Contemplating for a bit, I beckoned the lizard who was trying to offer me a massage over and got her number and what she was doing later. We arranged a time to call and meet and I bid her adieu.
I spoke to Pitt about what his plans were for that evening. He was still a bit hungover from our drinking at the Gucci Lounge and wasn't sure if he had any energy to go out that evening. He had gotten a text from the Norwegian lizards about going out later on but I wasn't interested in foreigners at this point.
Pitt told me that pussy is pussy. That's true and I'd gladly be his wing if he wanted to chop both of them down.
I saw another lizard walk by. She had on a nice dress tight enough that it hugged her backside well. The backside was round and perfect. Her face was nothing to write home about but I'm not out there to make love or fcuk faces so as long as she didn't have a beard or a square chin (manly traits), I can take a pass on that face. The body was nice.
"Who's that?," I wondered to Pitt, aloud.
"Yo, G if you want that, call that," informed Pitt and he hollared at the lizard. She beckoned for us to come over but we stood our ground. She came over and we conversed briefly with the assistance of Pitt and my painfully stunted Spanish. Acquiring her number, I told her that I would call her later on.
So in about 5 mins, I had 4 reptilian prospects. Two from the road and one that I had accosted in the lobby plus the driver's 'hermana'.
I decided to home and prepare to capitalise. I was secretly hoping a few would flake. I didn't have enough ball sauce to explode inside four of them and from the dancing I had witnessed in the Gucci lounge, Dominicans can certainly give it out.
The first one that I had spoken to in my lobby earlier, sent me a message on whatsapp, saying that she was in my lobby and what my room number was. I told her what number and shortly I heard a knock on my door. I let her in. She looked as good as earlier and was dressed differently. I sat and spoke to her using my google app translate and inched closer to her.
Using my app also, she told me it would cost money to fcuk. Here we go, I thought, now seasoned in the movements out here.
"Cuanto?," I asked. How much?
She said a number in Dominican currency which worked out to 100 dollars.
"Es no bueno," I said. It's too much. She called out another figure that was about 80 dollars.
"Es malo," I said. I countered with a price that was about 15 dollars.
"No, no," she said. The lowest she was willing to go was 60 dollars. The highest I was willing to concede was zero dollars, really.
I wouldn't budge and she whispered into my google app which came out as..sorry, but we can't do anything then.
I smiled accordingly, having enjoyed the negotiation and thinking of the other four lizards in my line up. She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek and gave me a hug and then exited from my room. I sent a message to the masseuse lizard. She wasn't responding and I was happy because my heart was truly with the one with the round ass. Surely enough, the one with the round ass hit me via text and told me she was in my lobby and what my room number was. I told her.
She knocked on my door and I let her in and locked the door behind her. I ensured that my valuables were out of place. As I said, the sensuality in the place goes a long way. Her body was nice, the face wasn't all that but she carried herself sensually. From my past experience, I had never smelt anything foul from a Dominican lizard. Even if her place was the pits with nothing there, you can be sure that whatever she neglected, personal hygiene wasn't the issue. She excused herself and went to the bathroom. I assume to freshen up and urinate. They often recommend urinating before and after sex to flush out STDs. Obviously this doesn't substitute wearing a condom but it can help to offset that stubborn rash or burning that one can get when they are an active and prominent layperson.
She came back and took off her clothes. I was pleased to see the type of ass that I loved. Round and lovely. She looked at my package and said "Ay, mi Dios!".
I smiled smugly and allowed her to fellate me. I stood to the side of the bed and she was on all fours but leaning forward so that her torso lay on the bed as she sucked my pipe. To her favour, I had showered a few hours ago. It was quite hot in Ste Do and although it's a different heat as opposed to Florida, the ocean air sweeps away the humidity they claim, I think the fact that I was in a busy city just lent to the temperatures that my body was subject to.
I handed her my magnum when I was fully ready and she rolled it onto my wood using her mouth to complete the fit down my full length. She turned around and angled her bottom at me. Doggy style, my favourite. I eased myself inside her and she cried "Ow!"
Was her boyfriend/husband/pimp/john a worm?
"Sorry," I said in English and I began stroking. The angle was a bit odd and I wasn't getting the type of torque I wanted. I felt uncomfortable and uneasy but I needed to get this nutt off so I could sleep. The ordeal felt tiring and I had no desire to draw out this process. I tried to clench but felt my seed coming.
"Nggh", I grunted like an old man and deposited my load. She rolled over on her back with her legs spread and a thought darted across my head to give her cunnilingus. That's really not my thing and an area that I admit that I need to work on as I am aware of the fact that many of you readers eat vag and ass like it's gourmet dinner. She got up and went to the toilet to urinate. I rolled the used condom off my deflating member and watching the lizard's winking bottom in admiration.
When she returned, freshened up and put her clothes back on, she told me that she needed some money to get a bus back to El Conde (it was about a dollar). I gave her money for a taxi instead and lead her to the door. The hotel bed beckoned me and after I locked myself in (and her out) I fell onto the bed for a dreamless slumber.
THE NORWEGIANS
I was woken near midnight by my phone ringing. Pitt still wanted to go out and meet the Norwegian lizards. I answered the phone sleepily and heard his voice.
"Yo G, those girls want to meet, what you saying?," he asked. It was my last night in Ste Do. so I was up for that.
"Yea, I'm coming through, still," I said.
"Alright, hurry up, G, don't be too long," implored Pitt.
"For sure, bruv," I said and hung up and began to get dressed. I put on some beige trousers , a short black sleeved fitted shirt to hug my physique and some black shoes and then I hit the road. My walk from my hotel to El Conde was a brisk one. The shadows were looming, night shift Dominicans emerging from the ominous gloom to observe me with curious looks on their faces.
I met Pitt at El Conde in approximately 10 minutes. He asked me how I got there and I told him I walked as it wasn't far. He advised me against walking in that area as it was late and Dominican Republic can be sketchy. I nodded in understanding and we took a cab to the club where the Norwegians were at. This club was a higher end establishment of Ste Do. and I saw less of the raggedy cars that I saw earlier. No more 1980 Peugeot 504's but now more Toyota Camry's manufactured in the 21st century , BMWs and Range Rovers. I was impressed. The clientele at this club was the more whiter Dominicans and I didn't see as many beige people here as in for instance, the Gucci Lounge. The white Dominicans seemed to have the same type of ass as the sistas and I chalk that up to either genetics or surgery. There was an ass on a blonde that looked so protuberant that I was willing to sat it was surgery. Either way, those buns looked good enough to eat. The Norwegians weren't answering their call and I believe they had left their phone in the cab that they took the place by mistake. Only one of them had a phone and the other one was relying on her friend for cellular communication.
We entered the club looking for them, trying to match them on eye contact but to be honest, I couldn't remember them from the night before. We also met them in their night wear and you lot know that a lizard in the club is a totally different animal from the one you wake up to in the morning or that you see in the laundromat. Many times her beauty is left on the pillow that you had her face down in as you plowed her out from the back like a laborious farmer. Perhaps her look is more consistent if she's of Latina calling but these were European lizards from Western Europe and Western Europeans don't exactly overly exert themselves (in my experience) to bring their A-game to every location you see them in.
A good thing about clubs in Ste Do. is that you do not pay for entry. You can club hop freely and won't break a note. I can't speak for the rest of the country or for tourist locations, however.
After several eye scans in the very noisy and dimly lit club with lizards of all hues (but mostly white) grinding on dudes in there, we called it quits and stood outside to recoup. An old man walked by with concessions in a tray that he carried in his hands. Gum, sweets, cigarettes were his wares. Nearby, a black Dominican boy also had a tray but this was set beside him as he slept, sitting a chair on the sidewalk. My eyes continued to drink in the fine shapes and well dressed Dominican lizards milling in and out of the club.
Finally, we saw the two Norwegians. The blonde looked plastered but her brunette friend seemed to be more clued in. We spoke for a bit and decided to go to the club in the casino. It wasn't far from where we were and since Pitt knew the way, we set off to walk there. It was a fairly long walk but I enjoyed it.
We stopped to talk for a bit and I mentioned my travels. The blonde said she had been to quite a few places and mentioned having stayed in the Gambia for about 3 months. I knew why she went there, she didn't need to afford me any further details. I mentioned my travels and when I mentioned Jamaica, her eyes lit up like fireworks on Bonfire night.
"Good ganja!," she said with a lazy, assuring smile.
And other stuff, I thought, thinking of the rent-a-rasta culture that is in Yaad.
She asked if I was from the island and I said "No, my background is Nigeria."
Her expression clouded.
"A lot of scams from Nigerians," she said.
"It certainly can seem that way," I said.
Everyone has encountered a Nigerian and Norway is no exception.
We arrived at the casino in which the club was located upstairs on the first level. We entered the casino and ascended on the escalator to the second floor and after a very short line up, we entered the place. The Norwegians said they needed to use the toilet and vanished into the crowd. Pitt and I and posted up at the bar to purchase two bottles of Heineken. I noticed a lizard bubbling (dancing) near the bar so as I sipped my brew and spoke to Pitt, I took the opportunity to gyrate up against her bottom, London style. She looked around and me and smiled and reached around to fondle my cock. I smiled, feeling my cock harden. Pitt noticed what her hand was doing and asked me:
"Yo, is she feeling your dick, fam?"
"Yeah," I replied casually and we continued to discuss the game plan with the Norwegian lizards. I wasn't sure of what the Norwegians were up to and I didn't feel like pressing on them. As you already know, if it ain't a layup, I'm not going to waste my time hovering around and to be honest, I was drained from my blast in the round bottomed Dominicana from earlier so my motivation was waning. If anything, I wouldn't mind squirting in this rat fondling me at the bar. Pitt relocated to another part of the club near the entrance and I joined him, excusing myself from the grasp of the brazen Dominican lizard. She waved and said goodbye to me. I attempted to go and dance near the Norwegians who were dancing near a group of guys who had a hookah table set up. The blonde was behaving like a real blonde and seemed to be straddling dimensions of comprehension. Perhaps she was on some sort of drugs but I had no idea.
OUR NEW BLOG!
http://repstylez.com
My NEW TRAVEL E-BOOK - DOMINICAN REPUBLIC - A RED CARPET AFFAIR
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00K53LVR8
Love 'em or leave 'em but we can't live without lizardsssss..
An Ode To Lizards
