Brazilian Babes

The way America knows it has the world´s strongest military, or how Russia knows it has the world´s most land, Brazil knows it has the world´s most beautiful women.

Of all their glorious features, legs, hips, lips, accents, passionate insanity, affinity for New York, sun-kissed skin, angelic faces or excellent taste for swimwear, to name a few, they are most renowned for their asses. The babes of Brazil are also most proud of their ´´bundas´´ (their butts). Most of my learning came from a young lawyer-lady of Brazil who has become my unofficial Tour Guide to Rio. Her name is Nina, and a tincy bit of my heart melts thinking of her.

Rio De Janeiro welcomed us to a wonderful land of worldly pleasures and far exceeded the expectations our hedonic imaginations dreamt up… .

The sun would rise over LeBlon’s beach horizon and bring another blessed day to all the gorgeous faces, perfect bodies, gleaming smiles, Holy bundas! I was elated, as if hovering above the silky sand and floating across the beaches that have set the bar high for Heaven. Well, the Heaven I´d hope for anyways. (Do you get to live out unfulfilled dreams when you ascend into The Sky?)

How do I communicate this sensation Brazil bestowed upon me? You know when your esophagus reflexes a sudden gasp? Then, a chill flashes up your spine and your toes curl to grip the ground? With my spirits defying gravity, my cousin would slap me and I’d snap me back to reality, even if only for the moment.

We were wiping the dripping drool from our dropped jaws. It was not the suavest first impression in Impenema Beach. However, we’d soon regain poise, but only for the moment, because, then, another impossibly perfect woman would walk by, proving that The Lord is a loving Lord and the brain would cease to function.

Merely the site of them bouncing up and down the sun drenched beach! I tried to talk to some. With words, rather than just lustful eyes. I had to keep it slow though, taking baby steps. I started with a wave, then a smile and soon graduated to an `Ooi!´. A few women were even kind enough to talk back. I attempted Portuguese. Which, in my simple American Boy mind, an attempt at Portuguese was to add a bunch of égés and ujz sounds to spanish words. This failed, but my tone was adoring and I’d soldiered on to the promise-land of an actual conversation.

This sensation I´m trying to describe was like a sweet delicious poison. With each intoxicating breath, each sip of Caipirinha, each word that slipped from her tongue, the poison would soak, almost soothingly, deeper. I was hopelessly and helplessly drunk on lust and falling into a blissful abyss of a wonderful oblivion.

Yeah, maybe excessive. But the women are gorgeous. And, teaching Brazilian gals the word “gorgeous“ is beautiful within itself.

´´They have everything. The face, ass, breasts, skin. They have everything´´ – The pretty Panamanian woman who educated us on The Panama Canal. (Panama Canal grosses 5,000,000,000 USD per annum)

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