A Rescuer For Brazil – The Fall Of The left.

There is a worldwide phenomenon going on, which an increasing awareness of what the left-wing and the corporate media are truly about – a bunch of rotten liars. It was evident in Trump beating Clinton in the US, it seems to be also increasing in the UK and other parts of Europe, and it has also started in Brazil, when we recently went out on the streets to demand our then president Dilma Rousseff, who was highly inefficient, besides being dishonest, be impeached, only one year after being re-elected. Both Rousseff and her predecessor, Lula, managed to destroy our economy and nearly break the country, operating the biggest money embezzlement in history – of the world. They represent the Labour Party in Brazil.

Being lied to

In 1964, after a voting session in the parliament, our then extreme-left-wing president was deposed and we had a military government that lasted until 1985. I was born in 1982.

In school, we were taught that there had been a coup and that Brazil had been under a dictatorship – which is a lie, since there was a voting session to elect the military government. Only recently did I find out the truth about it, by conducting my own researches.

Even during this military government, the left-wing continued to try to seize power. Financed by the Soviet Union, China and Cuba, the left-wing started to launch a series of terror attacks against civilians, robbing banks and causing chaos in various parts of Brazil. They would even implement training-camps and send guerrilla leaders to be trained in Cuba and China. Our former president Dilma Rousseff took part of a terror group that would rob banks (in order to finance their cause), and she was part of a group who shot and killed an 18-year-old soldier at point blank. In other words, our last president is a murderous, a bank robber and a terrorist.

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On the top right it says: Terrorist, Bank Robber

Upon being unsuccessful, the leftist proceeded to installing people who shared their communist views into the media and universities, a tactic well known to URSS and China. Since most information would get to people via radio and newspapers, there was an extremely biased media group who would manipulate the mass, while their kids would be taught against the government, for many decades to come.

***

My points of views have also changed. I used to think Che Guevara was cool, mostly because of his pictures, and that Robin Hood (character) was a liberator. Reading Ayn Rand and both talking to and reading Nick’s and Jimmy’s blogs helped me to open my eyes. I probably would anyways, eventually, but I’m thankful that it happened sooner.

The internet came to liberate us all, because, even though Google, Facebook and Youtube are leftist, there are other ways of getting information from other sources. In Brazil, Facebook groups such as ‘I was unaware that I was conservative’ and ‘Out With the Left,’ have been growing ever more popular.

In 1985, we had the first general election since the military government, and since then we’ve had presidents with left-wing stance, some disguised as right-wing, as in Fernando Collor and Fernando Henrique Cardoso, and extreme left as in Lula and Dilma. Lula gained popularity through the union. When he was its leader, he would promote himself and his political party by negotiating and organizing strikes throughout the country.

In the 90s, we had a very competent candidate, Enéias Carneiro, who was never given a chance. The leftist TV would refuse to invite him to debates and he would be given only 30 seconds during electoral TV time, whereas the leftist would be given up to 9 minutes. The media painted him as a weirdo. Unfortunately he past away years ago, but his videos too are getting more and more popular. He was a physician with a good understanding of economy and politics. He once believed in communism, but changed his views into a conservative, right-wing stance.

Eneias would argue that Lula was incapable of governing a country. He knew better than most of us.

 

The Light At The End of The Tunnel

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Jair Bolsonaro at any given airport he lands at.

We have a former military, currently a congressman, who is aiming at presidency. Even though Jair Bolsonaro has many gaps, his qualities overcome them all, being his integrity the most important. The media too tried to paint Bolsonaro as a weirdo, like they did Eneias Carneiro, but the more they try it, the more popular he gets. We don’t believe the media anymore.

Bolsonaro’s arch-enemy is Jean Wyllys, a homossexual who was the winner of an edition of Big Brother (what else do I need to say?) and is also a congressman. Wyllys (his name is very suggestive) became a symbol of resistance (for the left) when he spat at Bolsoraro during the voting of Dilma Roussef’s impeachment.  Apparently, it’s common practice for them. Their mojo must be: ‘When you run out of argument, just spit at those who oppose your views.’

 

Nothing happened to Jean Wyllys as recurrence of this event.

There was even a kindergarten teacher who defecated onto a picture of Bolsonaro during a protest, in broad daylight.

Bolsonaro is today the best option we have, as Trump is also for the USA. Can you imagine Hillary Clinton dealing with the North Korea crisis? Maybe we wouldn’t even get to that, because, perhaps the US would have already had started a war with Russia, by implementing the No-Fly Zone.

But we ‘re not out of the woods yet. It’s very common to see people defending Lula, even though most of his friends (former ministers and political allied) are in prison, and they will soon be followed by Lula himself.

In the other hand, many are opening their eyes and seeing it’s an easy bargain to elect a president who is honest and who doesn’t care about political correctness. It’s an easy bargain, after we had a bank robber as president for half a decade, after she succeed a racketeer who’d run for almost a decade.

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Throwback – First #Closes and Why They Weren’t Successful

I was checking some old Facebook messages, trying to remember some girls and the location I Facebook-closed them, besided cringing at how I’d communicate with them.

One of my first Facebook-close was a Trinidad & Tobago girl named Kristina. At that time, she would have been a 9 for me, now she’d be a 7 or less.

The approach must have been the ‘if I weren’t gay, you’d be my girlfriend,’ delivered with high energy, coming from a very motivated guy who’d just learnt that with a few canned-openers, a piece of peacocking and a few DHV-Stories, I could approach any group of girls and walk out with the hottest one around my arm, while the second hottest would betray her long-term friend and slyly slid her number into this great guy’s pocket.

From my perspective then, Kristina and I had had a great moment together, connecting our souls and bonding like in a romance film, but perhaps she failed to share the same enthusiasm towards the guy she’d spent some time laughing with during a drunken-girls’ night out.

I remember being amazed by Kristina’s cheeky smile and elusiveness, while I would try to i) extract her; ii) kiss her; iii) take her number. Eventually she threw me a bone and gave me her Facebook name, and I added her on the spot (in case I lost my phone or something).

For the record, this was before I met the RSG guys. 

After a few days, and dozens of drafts, I concluded that the best way to reach out to her would be through the following message:

Hello Kristina, how’s your week so far? Hope it’s going well!

Can i have your number, please? I’m planning to go to “The Lost Society” next Sunday and i’d like you to come along, but you’ll have to promise to be a good girl..!

Thanks Trini x x x

PS: Who do you think would win in a race between Daffy Duck vs Donald Duck?

Everything I had learnt about Game had been summed into one message. You have the positive energy :/ the bold invitation which takes charge of the plans, followed by a playful vibe that says ‘you’ll have to promise…’.

In case she didn’t want to talk about her week, or give me her number, nor go to The Lost Society on Sunday or if she wouldn’t be a good girl, I still wanted her to reply, therefore I inserted the Daffy vs Donald Duck question.

She never replied.

Anyone reading that message can see it comes from a guy begging for an answer, meaning she had way more value than I did, at that time.

Looking at other extracts today, I noticed I would always try to force a playful vibe, as to avoid a boring conversation, but it wouldn’t sound natural. As consequence, I would run out of gimmicks, my targets would run out of patience.

The fake-it-till-you-make-it won’t last but for a few hours. Texting was never my strongest skill, but it’s improved a hundred fold, hence I get replies, dates, F-Bombings and a few short to mid-term relationships.

An oversimplified analysis is that I’m more genuine. Likewise, I’m a better human being, as a consequence, it’s easier to be genuine and show a more attracting personality.

I remember being frustrated sometimes, even as an advanced PUA (I don’t relate to this term anymore) for always being a few messages away from getting that super-hot girl, but I wasn’t communicating well enough with them. That’s why a lot of people find easier picking up drunk chicks at a nightclub, because they don’t need to restart asking about Daffy Duck the next day.

Six years have gone by and I wonder whether I should text Kristina again. Something along this line:

… so, have you decided about Sunday yet?

Suave’s Visit to the Sex Island

This post is separated into three parts (Intro, Story 01 & Story 02) that are connected, though each will make send on their own. I personally like Story 01 best.

*******************

Introduction

And here I am, writing from an airport terminal again and it’s the same one where I wrote or revised texts before. Since flights are famously expensive in South America, it’s difficult to get around and any short trip must be well planned. On average, flights costs  Brazil’s monthly minimum salary. Or more.

I managed to convince a girl-friend who works for an airliner to book me a ticket to the Sex Island, where I came to spend the weekend. It’s difficult to manage a harem from afar. Bitches were all over the place. Curly converted to church and is dating a boy who hasn’t grown his pubics yet; Netflix & Chill answered my messages very non-committedly; some girls had a strange vibe, others I never got round to messaging. In the end, I came onto the island targeting three girls, two with whom I’d been with before: one from Rio (Copacabana), whom I never wrote about, Lucy Liu (my main target) and the new girl is Church Choir Singer. Spending three nights, I should have enough time to be with each of them.

I set foot on the island Thursday to Friday at around 2AM and had Copacabana meet me at a bar near my hostel. I booked a private room as to not worry about logistics. Of course, sex was on a plate and she was all over me. We ended up going to her place instead, where I had my way with her. She is 23.

Nice! I managed to get the first one out of the way after a few hours, and I then had enough time to plot for Lucy Liu and Singer.

I learned that Lucy Liu had her phone stolen one week before I came to the Sex Island. She is a University Student and has no money to buy another until next month. We chat over Facebook. I also learned that after I left the island, she broke up with her 60+ year old boyfriend, whom she lived with. She is 21. I also realised he is not all that alpha and he is very much jealous of her. It’s a funny story. Although they are not together, she is still living at his house. She told me she had left, but didn’t have many options in terms of housing, so she kind of works as his helper, but she can now do whatever she wants to, like have a life.

Lucy Liu sincerely tells me she doesn’t like her ex anymore, when I ask whether she gets jealous of him. I couldn’t care less.

*******************

Story 01

How I first met Lucy Liu:

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She’s never been to McDonalds, nor has she heard about feminism

Thirteen months ago, when I was living on the island, I went on a date with a girl who, for some reason, brought along her friend Brenda. That has happened before, and in most cases, it works to my advantage. But something was off that night and my charms did not work too well, so I decided to cut it short for various reasons. One of them being that, when we were entering my car to change venues, the girls were fighting to sit on the back seat !

After I duly dropped them off, I thanked the saints I would never have to meet them again. A few days after, I receive a Facebook friend request from Lucy Liu, having Date Girl as a common friend.

After a few exchanges, she fires:

LL: ‘Do you and Date Girl chat very often?’ Followed by, ‘Can I ask you a very personal question?

Me: ‘Sure, I know what you will ask, but go ahead.

LL: ‘I bet you don’t. How large is your penis?

Me: ‘0.0 I got it wrong.’

LL: ‘LOL. It’s just that this came up today, after class.’

All three girls, Lucy Liu, Date Girl and her friend Brenda are classmates, so I assumed she’d had this vital discussion with them.

Me: ‘You were discussing my dick…?

LL: ‘Yes, we were. So… what’s the answer…?

Let’s talk about penis for a second. Whether we lie or tell the truth, she has only one way of finding out. I, for one, never have a measuring tape ready by my bed.

I am not proud to confess I have measured it before. I am very proud to say that it rates well above average. It is not particularly big but it ain’t never gonna be small. But you’re damn right I would add another inch to it if I could.

Anyways, I answer her straight and soon receive a rather polite compliment, as if it was an accomplishment, like getting that promotion. Thanks, I guess. Then she throws some cold water, which shrinks my penis to half; her boyfriend’s, she says, is an inch larger than mine. What a cunt! He is 60+, fucks a 21 year old and is strapped.

LL: ‘Btw, what did you think I was going to ask?’

Me: ‘Whether I’d been with your friend, Date Girl.

LL: ‘I see. She is no longer my friend. We don’t talk.

That’s new information. It’d be like a piss-off-my-former-friend-fuck.

We then exchange pictures (not nudes), talk about sexual fantasies, she asks about my travels and we try to arrange a date, which we both forget about after.

The next day I open her with a mild tease, to which she replies the following:

LL: ‘I’ve been told about this bald guy who is quite good looking, but when he is on the catwalk, he thinks too much of himself.

Date Girl and Brenda certainly noticed that I walk slightly funny, but catwalk?! My tendons are shorter, so it looks as if I have springs under my feet. It’s not a disability and it’s easy to fix, but it doesn’t bother me. It did when I was a teenager. Add to the fact that, besides being tall, I hold my head high, keep a good posture and dress a bit different, I do come across as arrogant. I probably am too.

Me: ‘Those groupies…

LL: ‘HAHAHA.’

*** some many other subjects ***

Me, after many exchanges: ‘I’ve been called snobbish by your friends.

LL: ‘Well, you seem to be, but I don’t know you. Maybe you aren’t.

Me: ‘Did you discuss my dick with Brenda today?’

LL: ‘Why, did she say anything to you?’

Me: ‘That didn’t answer my question.

LL: ‘I don’t remember talking about your dick with her. So… nothing happened between you guys?’ She’s investigating.

Me: ‘Nah. I dropped them off then went on to help a girl-friend who’d had too much to drink and couldn’t drive.’

This was a way to DHV myself after a date gone wrong. It is almost to say I had a booty-call. I also explained that neither of her two friends had caught my attention and that Date Girl actually is a bit fun, more so than Brenda is.

Me: ‘Don’t tell them, though.’

LL: ‘Don’t worry, I won’t.’

A few hours after, Date Girl messages me the following:

DG: ‘Groupies? Come on now?!’ she snaps. ‘Unfortunately your name was mentioned today.’

Me: ‘Hahaha, you gossip girls.’

DG: ‘And then you say you’re not snobbish. Oh, rest assure that the size of your penis was never a matter to no one… especially Brenda. She was really embarrassed by this. It’s is nonsense.

I print-screened it and forwarded it to Lucy Liu. Boy, was I enjoying myself!

She replies after two hours, first with an audio saying she showed Brenda the print of our first penis- conversation. ‘That was it,’ she sworn, followed by an apology.

In the second voice message she said the only reason she showed Brenda the messages was to not cross her, in case we had hooked up. Then she laughed at the likability of Date Girl being much more enraged with this all, given the fact Date Girl changed her Facebook status to some angry emoticons gnashing their teeth.

LL: ‘I am very embarrassed.’

At this point she didn’t know whether I was upset. My intention was to see her reaction and get her to explain herself.

Me: ‘You girls are so funny, I’m cracking up. You will probably get some fulminating stares from Date Girl on Monday.’

LL: ‘Oh, she gives me hateful looks all the time now. Can’t wait till Monday,’ she replied, giggling.

Me: ‘And the reason for your falling out…? Did you borrow any of her Barbie dolls without permission or something?’

Nope. It was not as exciting as that. It was just a silly misunderstanding that neither of them had the ability to set straight. Although they hated each other, they continued being friends on Facebook – because unfriending would probably mean an all-out war.

Of course, LL made sure DG found out about our eventual crazy afternoon fuck, which happened to be on my last day on the Island, before moving back to Sao Paulo.

Thirteen months have passed and there I am on my way to meeting Lucy Liu. And Date Girl is coming along. They are BFF now. I wonder if they ever talk about my dick.

When we meet, it’s a bit awkward and difficult to engage in conversation with them both. No one mention the elephant in the room, so we talk about being robbed. After a while I take them to a cosy little bar, in which we order inside and drink outside, standing on the sidewalk where there is reggae music and some ten to fifteen local people gathered into small groups.

****

After a while, we are all more relaxed, then I start kinoing Lucy Liu. She happily complies. I poke fun of her not knowing how do dance and pull her closer to me. We are now snuggling.

Date Girl tries to look relaxed, but she doesn’t know what to do with herself.

Lucy Liu and I start making out and she is instantly turned on, rubbing her body against mine.

Meanwhile DG slow-dances alone next to us.

Lucy Liu had been anticipating this encounter for 13 months now. We make out very passionately and everyone is looking at us;

Everyone but DG, whose glass of beer on her hand is now the centre of her universe, even though it’s nearly empty. She sips at it every five seconds.

When I try to stop the kissing, Lucy Liu draws herself closer and kisses even more passionately. She is on her toes. She groans of pleasure when I yank her hair; my hands are all over her back, bum and legs, passed her short flowery dress.

I almost feel embarrassed for Date Girl, who makes an effort to not look at us. She is starring at a very interesting lamppost across the street.

****

I think Date Girl had such a wearing day prior to meeting us, even though she doesn’t work nor studies at the moment. She suddenly felt very tired and wanted to go home. We insisted that she stayed, but she needed to rest, she argued.

Want us to walk you to the bus terminal?,’ I politely offered, good soul that I am.

It’s fine. You guys stay. It’s just round the corner.’

A mean-minded person would say she wanted to get away from us, but not me. I know she’s just tired. She waves us goodbye from distance while she rushes off. Poor little lamb. I guess watching lamppost can drain you off after all.

Lucy Liu and I headed back to the hostel where I fucked her extra-hard. This had nothing to do with the missing inch. I swear.

*******************

Story 02

I took Singer out to a bar Saturday afternoon, along with a common guy friend. The three of us had a few beers, Singer and I mildly flirted and she was kinoing me. It was going to be on. Our friend then had to leave, which would provide for a natural isolation, but then we all decided to go and meet again in the evening.

I was getting ready to meet Singer and some others friends when Lucy called saying she was ready to meet me. Because she had no phone, she was using her friend’s. Her ex-boyfriend had hidden the computer, so she could not even access her Facebook. I then had two choices:

  • Take Lucy ou;
  • Take Singer out;

After pausing for a second to think what would be the chivalrous thing to do, I then scoffed at this and chose the one with the finest ass.

McFuck

It was a different kind of happy meal. After having picked up Ginger at a rock bar through some Rock Solid Played Game, having had to mildly AMOG a very good looking competitor who wanted the same girl as me, she would just refuse to come to my house. We were making out on the street, next to her car, her girl friend inside, waiting to get dropped off. Ginger’s hand was inside my jeans.

Logistics was difficult because she had her car and I had mine. We live in opposite directions. What would you do? Invite her to Mac Donalds, of course!

She gladly accepted my invitation, so we dropped her friend off then she followed me.

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“I’ll have the new Anus Pounder, please.”

The ideia of going to Mac D’s was because it’s a 24-hour thing. Now, you have to consider that using the drive thru would not be a good strategy, so we decided to park in a little corner, far from any prying eyes.

She parked next to me and then entered my car.

Let me tell you a bit about Ginger. She is 1,62m and works as a personal trainer. Yes, she is fit [!], has got a flat stomach, curvy ass and (at least) D-cup breast. No sooner than she entered my car her hands were all over my cock. We found a new connotation to Super Size.

Our intention was not to fuck there, but things got out of hand, so I pulled her knickers down, span her around and conquered her from behind.

Neither of us came, but I got the notch! She is coming round for more tonight. She said that, if I give her my address she will come visit every-other night. I’m loving it.

After we finished, she got into her car and drove off, while I stopped to order some French Fries to go.

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“She is having a large what…?”

The Revolutionary Generation of Clichés

I’ve been extremely busy these days for a very good cause so I decided to log on on Tinder only to find out that the Brazilian women is far from sexy. In a range of 137 km, I’ve averaged 25+ Nopes to 1 Like – living in the countryside of Sao Paulo.

Besides most of these girls being fat or ugly, or both, they have two other things in common:

  1. They all have tattoos;
  2.  They all take selfies.

1 Tattoos

I don’t dislike tattoos at all and have considered getting one in the past. When I was in London I nearly had the cool-cliché ‘Made in Brazil‘ stamped on me, but nowadays it became so fucking common that I am the subversive one.

I was recently in a bar with one of my girls, her brother, his chubby date and one chubbier girl. They were talking about tattoos: ‘I have seven’ would say the chubby date as if she were talking about her kids. Chubbier girl was more conservative – she had two. ‘So you need one more! They have to be an odd number’ would suggest chubby very proudly, showing she knew her shit.

The brother must’ve had a million tattoos. Maybe a million and one. My girl too had her tattoos on her shoulder and on the rib cage. Crap!

Bottom line is, people are getting a tattoo in Brazil because they want to be different. Plus, everybody has got one…

2) Taking selfies

Whatever happened to people taking pictures of themselves doing interesting things? ‘Here is a close-up picture of my face instead.’ It gets worse – there is a motivational message with the picture. It gets even ‘worser’ – guys are doing that.

Damn, stuck in traffic again… Hey, why don’t I post a picture of my face on Facebook this morning? Surely, my friends will want to see that!’ 

And then they write ‘Don’t stop when you’re tired, stop when you’re done.’ 

Tinder in Brazil is full of fat, ugly faces with motivational cliché messages.

Behaviourism really makes sense. We are all monkeys! Every picture is the same, every tattoo is the same.

In Discourse Analysis we learn that no one’s speech is original – we only copy and paste, adding something we like to think is ours but in reality it was copied somewhere else too. It does your head in but it’s very interesting. I might write something about that soon, co-relating it to seduction.

But back to my point, maybe if we had some rules:

  1. Only cool people are allowed to get tattoos;
  2. Ugly people aren’t allowed a cell phone with a camera.

Cuckolding Another Alpha Male

At 16:00 she was in my car, we were heading towards somewhere near my house so I could play some quick comfort and then swiftly extract her to mine. She told me she’d have to be home by 17:30.

Her boyfriend called her, she didn’t pick up. He tried again and she got a little nervous. Then for the third time.

Oh my God, maybe he’s seen me entering your car…?’

I had to play it cool. Damn, she looked hot and fresh. At the age of 20, she doesn’t need to wear a bra. Through her long, summery-blue dress I could see her perky boobs pointing out. Her shoulders were exposed revealing her white skin. She has got long, black hair, slightly succulent lips and Pocahontas eyes. Imagine Lucy Liu’s face. Now improve it some; bigger eyes, fleshier lips, girly smile… You’ve got it.

Su
Her friends compare her to Daniele Suzuki. To my enjoyment, she is a bit whiter and much younger than Suzuki.

You haven’t done your nails,’ Said I as I grabbed her hand, waiting for the traffic lights.

I wasn’t planning on meeting you today,’ she replied apologetically while she played with my hand. It was our ‘first date.’

Oh, her manners, she is so submissive, delicate, feminine… Her voice is soft; she enthusiastically laughs at my stories and seems eager to hear more. She’s inexperienced. She’s been dating the same guy for three years (since she was 17) and they’ve been living together for about a year.

He called again. She asked me whether I could lower the windows and turned the music down so she’d pretend she was on the streets. She is such a good girl that she asks for things.

‘Hello, honey… oh really? Well, put her on… Hi mom! When did you get here? Ah, I was out… I had to solve a few things in the city, but I’ll be home soon…. Wait for me there, okey? 

Fuck, were my chances blown? It was my last full day on The Sex Island – I am moving back to SP.

Since we first met through a mutual friend, Enhanced-Lucy-Liu and I never stopped chatting. When I picked her up at the bus station my plan was to take her straight to my house, but she objected to that. Now that her mother had called saying she was in town, we’d have even less time. She never asked me to take her back, so I continued driving.

Her boyfriend has got to be alpha, although I’ve never met him. He is some kind of a lawyer. At the age of 59 (that’s right, fifty-fucking-nine) he is living with a 20 year hottie.

While he spoils her in certain ways, he hasn’t given her a car, for example, nor does he drive her out and about; she has to take the bus to go to university.

About him being cuckolded, there is a saying in Brazil that goes:

‘It’s better to share a filet-mignon stake than chew bone alone.’

Do you really want to go to the city centre?’ asked I with a plan in mind. We had been driving for about 20 minutes through the heavy traffic.

‘What do you want to do?’

‘In all honesty, I want to take you to my place.’

‘Hmm, Okey then.’ 

My apartment was a bit messy because I was moving out, but she sat on my bed and I decided to show her some pictures.

Those big eyes looking at me, I couldn’t resist any longer. We’d been to my place for about five minutes when I threw the laptop aside and grabbed her behind the neck. She had a shy smile while we held eye contact all the way to the kiss. While kissing, I then grabbed her hair; I yanked it hard and pulled my mouth away from hers so she’d fight for the kiss – and she did. She was instantly turned on.

Sparks.

Her lips are so fucking firm, her skin is soft and tight. I wanted to touch every inch of her fresh body. I soon put her hand on my cock – I had to keep her busy while I untied her dress around her neck. My goodness, her breasts are gorgeous! They were in my mouth in no time. She was so horny…

I knew exactly where to untie the rest of her dress around her waist. She tried to resist a bit until I said:

I’m going to undress you, put you on fours and fuck you like an animal.’ 

‘Let me go to the toilet first.’ She replied.

She walked out of the toilet completely naked! I had to reward her for that, so after I put a condom on, I grabbed her by the hair, put her on fours and pushed it in. She would moan with her mouth open. That tight ass in front of me – I slapped it while I gave it to her, hard. I wanted to send her home feeling my dick inside her and my hand slapping her bum.

After she came the first time she turned her head, looked me in the eyes, looked down towards my cock which was inside her, then up again. It was her way of saying thank you.

In response I yanked her hair and slapped her hard again while I continued pushing it in. It was my way of saying you’re welcome.

Most guys will treat ‘angel girls’ like a princess in bed;

In bed, I treat them like a street whore. I wanted this girl to leave my place feeling like a cheap girl, a dirty slut.

She is messaging me like crazy now, saying ‘too bad you had to go.’