Sao paulo introductions dating
I complimented his moves, he complimented my curves. What I loved the most about Valter’s profile was the total absence of shirtless shots. In a split second my mouth was dry and some other parts of my body — wet. Tall, black, slim, with a storm of thick locks, but foremost — he was an amazing dancer. He’d been giving classes at the dance school for the whole weekend and was too tired to come.
One dance with him left me dizzy and high on endorphins. Quite the opposite, there was a green sweatshirt, a scruffy beard, dark Middle Eastern eyes, and a book in his hand (! A few witty messages later he offered to be my guide at the bohemian Rua Augusta Street on Friday night. So we ate that damn falafel dinner together and he told the story of how they met (no mention of the story how I bought a big bottle of beer and strolled along the Paulista Avenue, not sure if I should cry or laugh. As always, millions of couples were making out on the benches and bus stops — young, old, gay, straight… He was spinning a girl but staring at me, his eyes narrowed. He extended his hand towards me for the next song and entrapped me in his arms for the whole night. No, I wouldn’t come next Sunday to the Cuban place again. Unable to focus, turning my head left and right, I looked for the familiar storm of Afro hair tamed by a headband. I was aloof but he caught my attention by offering to me lessons, in my living room, in exchange for English classes.
We crawled from one pub to another, sharing our thoughts on liquid love and our Ayahuasca visions. Brazilian strategy — surround your prey and don’t let go of her until you get a taste of her flesh. OK, let’s go outside “tomar um ventinho” (get a breath of fresh air). Far from his hotness, in the safety of my room, I was doing my best to reject his advances. Yeah, sure, why not, it’s such a difficult dance in the end.… When I opened the door on the next day and saw his beautiful face, I knew the afternoon wouldn’t finish on a class exchange.
He put me in touch with the Ayahuasca people in São Paulo. With the Universe as my witness, I resisted as much as I could. All right, the air will taste better served in each others’ mouths. When all the introductions had been made and the sound practiced till his tongue got numb, it was time for me to step down from the teacher’s pedestal and become a dumb-ass for a change. That’s how you keep it safe — bang as much as you can and run away before the first unpleasant fluttering of your macho heart.
How lovely, on that specific day Kleyton showed up completely drunk, with a broken front tooth after opening a beer can the night before, and as per glorious Brazilian carnival tradition — wearing a skimpy dress. You know how sometimes a small snack only triggers your appetite instead of satisfying it? Weekly fuck meetings with Kleyton and then pretending as if we barely knew each other on the parties was not enough. I tried to get distance, I suggested a break, but I ran back to him within a week. She’d been trying for a child with her husband for over a year when she discovered that he was already expecting one, just that not with her.
A nineteen-year-old street vender from a favela he patrolled turned out to be a more attractive love interest. Two weeks later Mariana was a beautiful and successful… I’ve always been more of a man-lover than a man-hater so I’m trying to find sense in that misery.
I would probably break into pieces and turn into despair, if I weren’t aware of the laws of the Universe: everything that surrounds you is the reflection of your own soul, everything you experience is brought to you by the Law of Attraction to match the vibration you project.
He wouldn’t be able to go with me for the next ceremony, though. We smoked weed in his car and went to Jazz B, the coolest jazz place in town. I was new in town, just arrived to Recife, I didn’t want complications right at the beginning. He played “Pé na Areia” and pulled me to himself, just to push me away three seconds later. We floated on the waves of samba all the way to my room. We continued our classes with benefits for a few weeks, chatted on whatsapp every day, got jealous, had our first fight when he slapped me in my face in bed and I slapped him back. I took a risk with Kleyton and I lost but not everything. Those were just three of many bitter-sweet romantic (?
Relaxed by the green magic, with an intriguing man leaning against my shoulder, I let the musicians play on the strings of my mind, on the keys of my heart. We turned our backs on each other, we made a jumpy walk back and forth, he spun me around and I laughed, having lost my balance. I would lose my focus whenever I smelled his perfume on other men. ) adventures I’ve had in Brazil and they’re nothing in comparison with what I’ve been told by my girlfriends.
”If you’ve liked my first post on Medium, click the heart ❤️️ so more people can see it, and share your thoughts in the comment section below (esssspecially if you happen to be a Brazilian or you’ve lived and dated in Brazil).
Our editors will review what you’ve submitted and determine whether to revise the article.