SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 1, 2004 & A SNIPPET FROM MONDAY

Hello. RT here. Reporting from back home in Ft. Lauderdale. Yesterday was quite the day -- it sure made up for Saturday.

I woke up (alone!) at about 9:00. I showered, and then went downstairs to check my email and post on Saturday's debacle with Lorena from Pasions.

It was a beautiful afternoon, so I just spent a couple of hours walking around town. Most places were closed on Sunday, but there were people here and there. I got tired at one point and stopped for lunch. That refreshed me enough to continue my trip, until I stumbled upon the hotel. I don't know how it (or I) got where we were, but there was the hotel, so I went upstairs.

Me -- I'm a city boy. One of my favorite parts of leaving my home area is just checking out the city. Seeing where people shop, do their laundry, hang out and watch sports teaches me a lot. Some people get off on mountains and jungles; you can give me a record store and a snack bar and I will call it a good vacation. I picked up a pair of Hush Puppies for $22 and some coffee in my travels, but that's about it, other than the memories.

Back at the hotel, I took a nap to rest up for the evening. I wanted to watch the Super Bowl somewhere, and also go to Casablanca and/or Ilusion to find a girlfriend for my last night in town.

At around 5:00pm, I was thrown out of bed by what sounded like the beginning of Operation Shock and Awe II, except there was music mixed in with the explosions, rather than air raid sirens.

It turns out that February 1 is the start of the annual Carnival celebration in the Dominican Republic. Independence Day is at the end of Feb. around here, and the celebration takes an entire month. I look out the window and there's a parade going down Calle Del Sol. It takes me about a half hour to get downstairs, but the parade was still going on. There were hundreds of teen-agers in sequined, brightly-colored costumes (think Liberace on acid). Add on these scary, horned masks, music blaring and the streets lined with cheering onlookers, and you have quite the party.

The parade was headed towards the big, big, tall monument in the center of town. I followed along, as that's where the action was, and I knew there was a likelihood that someone would be showing the Super Bowl. To add to the confusion, Sunday was the first day of the Caribbean World Series, and these Dominicans are crazy about baseball. This limited my Super Bowl hopes even more.

So we get to the monument area. There's stages with bands, a carnival, people partying everywhere. If I were a permanent resident in Santiago, I could have made out like a bandit with just a little more Spanish at my control. In my unscientific survey, women outnumbered the men by at least two to one.

I get something to eat at Maimon restaurant, and then wander the streets with the throngs of people until I find this combination pool hall/sportsbook/bar that was showing the Super Bowl.

There I am, minding my own business, arguing the Panthers' running game (in Spanish -- at least that's what I think I was arguing about), when I felt a tap on my knee. I look up just in time to see Ashley and three of her girlfriends walking by. She's looking back and smiling at me. I wave her over and she runs back, gives me a quick kiss and goes on her way. Thankfully, there wasn't enough time for me to do anything stupid, like offer to buy her for the next 12 hours. She disappears with her friends and that's the last I see of her. Except for the photo memories, of course.

At halftime, I walk back to the hotel to shave, shower and get dressed for the evening. Luckily, halftime is long, so I made it to the Matum Casino with only 2 minutes gone in the second half. Unluckily, I missed out on Janet Jackson's boob. Luckily, I found a seat at a blackjack table that also had a view of the game in the lounge. Unluckily, I had New England at minus-7. Incredibly, I won $14 at blackjack. I cashed in my chips once the game ended and told the cabbie, "Casablanca, por favor." It's far, so the fare was $3.

The setup at Casablanca is half inside, half outside. On the outside is a bar, a bunch of tables, a gazebo area to the left, and, behind the gazebos, what looked like either short time rooms or possibly residences for some of the girls. I didn't think to ask, but Ashley lived at Porky's and some of the chicas in Puerto Plata live at El Bohen.

Inside, of course, is music that's way too loud, a bar, a stage, and chairs/tables everywhere. This room is not as big as at Pasions, and the girls were not dressed as flashily as in the other places. More like regular girls on 'look hot night'.

Oh yes, there were about 40 girls throughout the complex, in all shades of color and size. I got a bottle of water at the outside bar ($0.50), and stood there eyeing the young ladies. A couple of pretty ones smiled at me. I smiled back, then walked inside to use the bathroom, but to really see who was lurking inside.

When I came out of the bano, I saw the girls from outside. One of them, Alexandra was about 5'10" (with heels), thin as a rail, the color of coffee with a lot of milk in it, long brown hair, and pretty. Her friend was pretty, too, but I have a hard time focusing on a second girl when I'm entranced. The three of us get a table, and I buy them beer while Alexandra and I stare into each other's eyes, feel each other up, kiss, and generally make fools of ourselves in the club.

Alexandra has the softest set of lips that you would ever hope for. I was sure that I needed to spend more time investigating for further signs of softness.

I didn't do spectacularly at negotiating. She asked for $70 for all night at my hotel, and I answered with a clever, OK. It took another shot of Tequila for Alexandra and two more beers for her friends before we could pay and leave, but off we went.

Alexandra was all over me in the cab and on the elevator, but I had no clue what I was in for. In the room, she became an animal. I broke out the camera, and she wouldn't stand still for just pictures with clothes, she wanted me to shoot everything. Once I showed her the video function on my digital camera, she was out of control, she would play with herself while I taped it, than play with herself some more while she watched the playback.

Eventually it was time for me. Did I mention animal? This was the wildest time I ever had. Both of our lips and fingers were everywhere. At one point, she stopped what she was doing to knock everything off of the dresser so we could go at it there. Back on the bed, I was giving it all I had (it turns out that having a lot of sex makes you last longer), and she decided that I wasn't enjoying myself -- that I didn't like her -- and she redoubled her efforts. The moaning would have been louder than the parade, if it was all at once. At some point she decided that the condom was the problem. Off it went, and back on she went.

I'm not necessarily proud of that, but it happened, so there.

Another couple of minutes of that was all I needed. She wanted me to finish outside of her, and she laid there while she made me get my camera again to record the, er, proof, of our successful liaison all over her.

I'm not sure what the term PSE exactly refers to, but I hope that was it, because anything more than that would kill me.

We talked in bed for a while after that. She wasn't happy that I had to check out at 7:30 for my airplane, as it would fuck up her sleep patterns, but eventually we fell asleep in each others arms.

I woke up at 6:45, threw all my stuff in my bags, and woke Alexandra up. Much to her credit, she didn't complain much, and got dressed fairly quickly. She helped me with my bags to the front desk to check out (yet another dirty look from the girl up front), and was touched that I walked her outside and put her in a cab. If you just treat these girls with a little respect, it goes miles. Trust me. It didn't hurt that I overtipped her ($40). I felt like I got away with murder, and she felt like she hit the big time. A win-win situation.

At check out, I paid with most of the pesos that I had left over. It was better than carrying a couple of hundred dollars of funny money back home, and it brought my credit card bill for the hotel down to about $80. This trick for getting rid of your extra local currency worked in Costa Rica as well, and I suppose at any hotel in the world.

The cab ride and check-in was uneventful, but waiting in the terminal, I talked to these two guys from Barbados that were there for basically the same reason as me. They spent all but the first night in Sosua, so I told them of the availability in Santiago. When I showed them the pictures, Cal said, "Hey, that's Lorena! I met her last year in Santo Domingo. She's the best." When I told him about my mis-adventures with Lorena, he was shocked. Same girl, a total case of YMMV. All his friend could mutter was, "I have to come back and see Alexandra. With my video camera," over and over.

The flight was on time. They showed an "Everybody Loves Raymond" marathon. You don't miss much when you sleep through that show, it turns out. Immigration and customs were a snap, and I was back home by 1pm.

That's about it.

RT

Do we get to see Alexandra?

I promised her 'no internet'.

It would really suck if I didn't keep my word.

Good report, good writing style, RT, thanks.

I think its "GFE?" Girl-Friend Experience?

I'm headed to DR soon, but probably just to Santo Domingo for the first trip. But now I know about where to go in Santiago.

Thanks Hunter.

Yes, GFE is Girlfriend Experience.

PSE = Porn Star Experience.

I have never been with a girlfriend like Alexandra.

Great reports RT - envy you!! Keep em coming!

Great Report RT- This is the guy you met in the airport in Santiago. I finally am going back down, mostly because of what you told me in the airport and decided to see if you did ever post your report. Sure as shit, you even remebered my name. Anyway I just wanted to thank you for all the info and if your there look me up. I'll be at the Gran Almirante from the 16th to the 26th...