Tails of Brasil--Summer Diamonds

[Guest Gringo]

Bluehairs, barbies and everyone in between comes to the Friday night street party at the Arcos da Lapa. Around midnight the people begin to arrive. Coolers reinforced with duct tape are mounted on rickety three-wheeled vehicles of conveyance. Inside these coolers, cans or soda and beer are covered with ice. Sometimes these vehicles are pulled and sometimes they are peddled. As I arrive around midnight, trying desperately not to loose my cool and begin to perspire, I welcome the vendor and buy a soda. I have a need for a cool drink and he has the goods. Standing directly in front of me, he reaches above to get me a straw. Inches away from his armpit the unmistakable musk of a working man does not offend me. He is searching for a place to setup his business. People are beginning to gather on the promenade and he wants to be well positioned to sell his drinks.

 

Josemar looks in my eyes as if I am the most interesting person in the world and engages me dead square in the face. His beauty is undeniable, and he will not be ignored. His eyes are clear and bright and his teeth are whiter than white. He smiles and his eyes twinkle. I want to lick his neck to taste the milk chocolate of his body. I want to put my mouth and my nose in every crevice. I want to consume his sensuality and absorb his vitality with a passion as brutal as his beauty. Good thing I usually stick with cokes, although with a couple of beers in me I might have a good at it.

 

The street party is about two blocks long. On one side are seven or eight clubs blasting hip-hop and rock into the streets. The gay club is called Casanova. The street is divided with a long promenade—and the parade begins. The painted ladies have arrived along with the transvestites. They already know which corners and spots they will work tonight. More carts appear and magically access electricity to illuminate their delicacies. The vendors of the ever present ka-bobs of beef, chicken and pork lite their gas grills. Suddenly the breeze changes and the smell of their grilled meats is tempting. Other carts offer hot dogs and slabs of cheese on a stick grilled to a golden softness. Also available is burnt corn. Not one of my personal favorites. The grilled cheese and banana sandwich, however, should not be missed.

 

The promenade becomes increasingly dense with those who cruise and those who simply sit and wait. There aren’t really benches to sit on. Tubes of metal, maybe six inches around have been bent into a U shape and mounted upside down on either side of the walk. Two people can sit on each tube. There are about fifty of these, so let’s say seating for about one-hundred. In between these two banks of tubes hundreds of people walk to see and be seen. The parade has begun. There’s something for everybody. I call these people “summer diamonds.” Some are diamonds and some are not. But you never know, I could get lucky tonight and find the mother load. Some are on the make and some are on the take. Some have a desire to get off, some have a razor blade concealed in their waist bands. You must always be careful.

 

A group of entrepreneurs has begun a parking service business. Parking is available only on one side of the street. As one o’clock approaches, the parking spaces become a commodity. A group of six or so boys have decided to offer the spaces with assisted parking. Not really valet parking, but a service of guiding you into the space (as if you somehow suddenly needed assistance) and opening your car door. For some reason this man has assumed ownership, granted you the privilege of occupying his space, and now expects a fee. It’s best to give him one or two reais. He also includes with his new service a security feature. He will guard you car from any tampering for this fee. Maybe he will be there when the driver returns, maybe he won’t. But it might not be a good idea to deny this man his payment.

 

Josemar has the face of an angle. He looks like an Italian painting of a cherib with full lush lips, but without the long soft hair. Josemar’s hair is short and tight. This style is very common among cariocas and is called “macaco”—monkey. His eyelashes are remarkably long and sensual. Helena Rubenstein would have killed for the bronze highlights of his cheekbones. He tells me he is nineteen. I smile. His torso is lean and there is the outline of his credentials proudly displayed down his leg. He knows I know he knows. We both smile. “Strictly ativo. I adore topping,” he assures me. To confuse his years with his experience would probably be a mistake. Josemar saw me coming about three blocks before I saw him.

 

Two o’clock. I can’t walk the twenty feet between the tubes without physically brushing against at least four or five people. They are the moving masses looking for many things. Some are looking for friends, some are looking for a quick sacanagem, some are looking for love, and some are looking for a place to sleep. The boundaries between Eros and sex, narcissism and exhibitionism are virtually impossible to make out. The breeze changes again and the stench of urine invades my nose. The crowd has consumed many beers. Thirty feet away, part of the Lapa viaduct has become a designated pissing zone. I enjoy the view.

 

An enterprising young man with a white shirt opens a shoulder bag he has been carrying. He has a small metal serving tray he arranges with four shot glasses. He places a small towel across his forearm. In the other hand he produces a bottle of Johnny Walker Red. As a final touch he slides a black bow tie on the collar of his white shirt. “Have a shot of Red. Only four reais.” He shuffles past the painted ladies, barbies and bluehairs hoping his customers will not notice that he has added a little water to his bottle. Another new face appears with bunches of flowers to buy for your new found friend. “Who will buy my fresh red roses? Two blooms for a penny,” is in the air. Find a market, fill a need, just trying to make it through the night.

 

Three o’clock, I switch to drinking beer. I can resist Josemar’s charms no longer; we go to a motel just a block away. He is a garoto de programa. I tell him some of the high spots of my program. “You want many things Gringo.” I smile. Did I catch him or did he catch me? It’s not important. We take our clothes off. He glides his fingers through my chest hair. Most cariocas are hairless, many others shave their body hair. But Josemar seems to be intrigued as he effortlessly hovers near me to kiss my chest. ‘’Are you sure you are only nineteen?” He kisses the question away and puts his hand on my cock. Reaching down, he rolls me on my side and begins to rub my back. He didn’t lie, he was a great top.

 

Among the “many things” the Gringo mentioned was the importance of a good massage in afterglow. But I am not selfish, I return the favor. Moving my hands across the satin small of his back to the hills of his ass, I lean back to kiss the pleasure dome of his cheeks. His body does not smell of deodorant but has the aroma of a sweet nineteen year old youth. Calvin Klein should bottle the stuff. His breathing is deep, but I know he is not asleep. He floats in relaxation as i massage and gently spread the warm crevice I now desire. If I were going too far he would surely stop me. The lube is handy and I am gentle. Josemar’s tightness tells me he has not been touched this way often—he offers no resistance and i’m sure the pleasure is mutual. A few moments after I stop moving and roll to my side, he lifts his head, sort of squints and rubs his eyes. Was it a dream or just a massage. I am thankful that I am in a magic place of uninhibited sensuality devoid of taboos. It gives me the opportunity for such adventures I cannot find in the confines of my own country. But remember, Josemar is “strictly ativo”. Even when you fuck them, if they say they are strictly ativo, I just say ‘’ok.” I used to play God-was-I-drunk-last-night too. Doesn’t bother me in the least.

 

Four o’clock, we are back at the promenade. A noticeable increase in coupling has occurred. The man with the empty bottle of Johnny Walker Red takes off his tie and puts his tray back in his shoulder bag. There are no more takers for the parking service crew—people are beginning to go home. The transvestites and painted ladies shove their earnings between silicone boobs. The food fenders begin to dismantle their portable shops and mount their cargo back onto the wheeled carts. The ice has melted and only chilled water remains to cool the last of the sodas and beers. The wind changes again—this time the smell of candied popcorn fills the air. Ah Rio, I love the smell of Lapa on a Friday night.

:+

[jackhammer91406]

AAHHHH, there's the Gringo I know and love. Great story man!

[Guest Gringo]

THANKS JH! I hope those sights and smells brought back sweet memories for you. Were you able to reach our friend with the email address I gave you? Sure hope so.

[Trixie]

How gorgeous! Too bad Reader's Digest doesn't know what it's missing! You get my vote for travel writer of the year!

Trix

[Trixie]

BTW...just out of curiosity, and not meaning to be crass... how much did Josemar cost?

Trix

[Guest Gringo]

Thanks for your vote Trixie, but Reader's Digest may be a little too mainstream for the audience that might find my travelogue appealing. Josemar asked for 30 reais, about USD-10. :+

[kjun]

Wow, are you an author by profession? I would be surprised if you are not.

 

Many thanks. I really enjoyed the story.

 

the Cajun

[Guest Gringo]

No Kjun, I am not a writer by profession. But sometimes the magic of Brasil inspires me. Thank you for the compliment. My Tails of Brasil seem to get alot more read than response. Your encouragement is appreciated.:+

[Guest Valleyman]

Gringo ---

 

All of the Tails of Brasil are wonderful; Summer Diamonds may be the best story you have written so far.

 

Thanks for publishing your stories here!

[+ Axiom2001]

Axiom dittoes all of the positive comments and applauds our resident writer (in the true sense of the word) vigorously! Thanks, Gringo!

...hope we can meet in person one of these years/days...!!

[Guest Tampa Yankee]

Very nice!! Thanks for sharing your story and your talent. I very much enjoyed both.

[Guest ncm2169]

Count me in as another fan of your posts. :o

 

Keep 'em coming! :+

[Guest Gringo]

Gringo's Confession

 

Valleyman, Ax2001, Tampa Yankee and mcn2169--thanks for your kind words of support in answering my transparent call for a response. For over a year now I have enjoyed and participated in this wonderful site. But it is an escort review site and the truth is---I have never hired a professional escort.

 

I am the man your mother warned you about. I am what was called in those days a "back alley cock sucker." I am the guy who would cruise the streets to pick up young men who were willing to play a little with the gay man. But the idea of paying a professional escort $100 an hour is uncomfortable for me. And I am not playing poor boy--I could afford those rates from time to time. But frankly it would make me feel guilty and I probably would not be able to enjoy the escort. Maybe I'm just plain cheap, but over the years of coming out, discovering other gay people, doing the clubs and the bars, I have come to accept the realization that I am a man of the streets. I prefer the inexperienced, the non-professional, the amateur, the part timer.

 

So there you have it. I want to start the new year with that off my chest. I hope I am still welcome here and I appreciate knowing that my little slice-of-life stories are enjoyed by some of the readers here. :+

[imrthr]

RE: Gringo's Confession

 

>But the idea of paying a professional escort $100 an hour is uncomfortable for me. And I am >not playing poor boy--I could afford those rates from time to time. - - - - I prefer the >inexperienced, the non-professional, the amateur, the part timer.

>

>I hope I am still welcome here and I appreciate knowing that my little slice-of-life stories are >enjoyed by some of the readers here. :+

 

__________________________________________________________________

 

Of course, you are still welcome on this board. You should be pleased to know that many people subscribe to your way of thinking about escorts who charge by the hour. As the Brazilian man is both charming and not on a "meter-by-the-hour" is merely partly why so many of us find Brazil facinating. I found your "article" emotionally moving and well written.

 

Beginning with the October M4M meeting, I have been to Rio three times and am returning the middle of January for my fourth trip. Reading your posting reconfirms that I am not alone in my feelings for Rio and further explains to me why I want to return to Rio so often.

 

Thanks for your postings.

 

Cheers

[Guest Gringo]

RE: Gringo's Confession

 

IM--I will look forward to meeting you in January.

[Guest miguelmiche1]

RE: Gringo's Confession

 

yr piece on the arcos de lapa wonderfully captures the allure and magic of this place for me over the last decade and a half. moving and simply beautifully done. wish you many inspired/inspiring tails over 2004.

[catnip]

RE: Gringo's Confession

 

A Christmas present from Gringo - que bom! Hope to meet you in Rio sometime.

 

Thanks,

[Mike_M]

RE: Gringo's Confession

 

Gringo, well said and I couldn't agree with you more. I've always said that prostitution and religion are the same in that the more money that is involved the less chance there is of getting a satisfying return of the comfort one goes to them for. I'm of course always grateful to you for my introduction to Lapa and for your always generous sharing on this board. This story left me totally jealous! He sounds like my type to a "t". I'm glad to hear Lapa is still going strong. Before I went in October I had read in one of the email newsletters I receive from either O Globo or Terra something to the extent that Lapa had been shut down on friday nights due to complaints from residents and merchants in the area, so unfortunately I didn't attempt to go back. Big mistake! Maybe I would have encountered Josemar....well, there's always the next trip. Enjoy the rest of your stay.

[Guest Gringo]

RE: Gringo's Confession

 

Mike,

You are correct, the mayor of the city determined that the party had gotten wayyyyy to big. Remember, there were literally thousands of people there on every Friday night. I can't imagine the merchants complaining about the biggest event that brought the greatest number of potential customers to their door each Friday night. But there was a concern about the drug lords, prostitutes and others that somehow resulting in an intimidating police presence. Can you believe such a crowd in existed in Lapa---LOL. Well, like I say, the party has been diminished from its hay day, but it still happens. Finding Josemar just takes a little more work. But thats the cruise I like. Let me know if you have any plans on returning during the next few months:+

[+ Axiom2001]

RE: Gringo's Confession

 

I hope Lapa doesn't close down. This was one of the experiences that I'll always cherish, for when I was in Rio in 2002--Ernani made a concerted effort to show me this slice of life amongst the cariocas! Although I was a tad bit paranoid being in the middle of the hordes of people (Ernani made it a point that we venture into the crowds after I'd itimated that I was not too bothered...!)-- I'm truly glad that I managed to muster up a little tenacity to meet this challenge!

 

Recently, in October of 2003-- my cute carioca (trilingual) tour guide took me there during the daytime; I'd wanted to see those tiled steps and other architectual structures. Fortunately for us, he and I were the only ones present, so pictures were taken with much ease!