Irish in Arequipa; Disaster Ensues

Posted on 01. Sep, 2008 by Colin in peru

An Irish cousin who I’d never met and his buddies came through Arequipa for the weekend. I met Simon’s father, who comes to St. Louis every few years, when I was 12. He was in St. Louis just before I moved to Peru. He told me his son, Simon, was going on a three-month adventure through South America.

I met Simon for the first time when he came to Arequipa with Gavin and Clive. By the end of the weekend, I’d lost my girlfriend, telephone, and apartment. Luck of the Irish? What the fuck!

The guys arrived Saturday morning. That evening I had plans to hang out with Anita, a girl I’d begun dating on the side from my “girlfriend,” but decided that I wanted to get wasted and chase other women with the Irish. I ignored her calls all day, but accidentally answered an hour before the Irish were to arrive. She said she was downtown and is coming over immediately. Damn!

Nicolas let her in and, after finishing a shower and putting on gym shorts and t-shirt, I found her doing the dishes. I told her to stop and come sit with me on the couch, where we started to make out and feel each other up. She was worried Nicolas would see us so I took her to my room and we had sex. I correctly predicted last week that she wouldn’t take long. She tried to put on the brakes after I had each of our shirts off. But I persisted and she succumbed to the pleasure – “Apaga la luz.”

Anita’s not drop dead gorgeous but has big boobs on a slim body. And she’s freaky. We laid in bed as she carressed me and sucked away on my neck. I heard the front door open and close. I thought it was Karen and Nicolas coming back from dinner. I forgot about it and continued to enjoy Anita’s hand and mouth.

Not two minutes later I heard the doorbell, which would be the Irish. I jumped up and got dressed.Anita casually started dressing. I opened the and saw Beto’s parents, who frequently come to the apartment unannounced with their own key, at the bottom of the stairs. They’ve only met Rosa, my “girlfriend.” I turned around and told Anita not to come out. I ran outside and downstairs while contemplating the situation. I met Simon and Gavin at the door and told them the story.

You see, Beto’s family’s weird. Months ago Beto told me his mom doesn’t approve of having girls in the bedrooms. I didn’t argue but decided that if it comes up again, I’d tell him I don’t care.  I am a grown-ass man and I pay rent.  I didn’t join a religious organization, take a job in an Islamic law country, join the military, or get sent to prison.  I’m going to have girls in my bed.

With this in the back of my mind downstairs, I developed a plan with Simon and Gavin to ditch Anita before going to Tradición.

I took the Irish in the apartment and introduced them to Beto’s dad in the kitchen. Then I went upstairs to see how Anita was doing in my room.  She was dressed and folding my laundry. She told me that Beto’s mom saw her. We made the walk of shame downstairs. Beto’s mom was at the ironing board behind a window facing my room. She announced that she wanted to talk. Anita joined the Irish downstairs in the kitchen and I joined Beto’s parents in Nicolas’ room.

Beto’s mom said she was angry. She said ‘this is not a hotel’. She said I can’t have ‘various women’ in my room. She said she wants guests only in the living room. She said ‘this is a house of respect’. I nodded and nodded and thought to myself “I am moving out.”

Peruvian and Latin culture is generally conservative. Women don’t move out until they’re married. Having sex in the family house is a bit taboo. However, I’m not their son and I pay rent for my room. There are legal ramifications of a landlord frequently entering unannounced. As it is in developed countries, this is illegal here. Anita, a lawyer, confirmed this. I don’t plan to make trouble. I’m just going to get my own place where I can have as many female guests as are willing and time allows.

I joined the Irish and Anita downstairs as the parents left. As stated earlier, I didn’t want Anita with me at Tradición because I wanted to chase other women and drink with the Irish. Plus, Arequipa is a small city – even smaller considering the bar scene where middle and upper class people go. The only time I went to Tradicion without Rosa, a friend of hers saw me and told her I was there. They always see me but I never recognize them.

So my plan to ditch Anita, as I told the Irish outside, was to start pounding beer and anisado and get obnoxiously drunk to the point where she wouldn’t want to come with us. Or she wouldn’t want to come because we’d be leaving so late and she might have to get home to her daughter. That was the best idea I could come up with while all this drama was going on.

The Irish agreed to go along with the plan. We got a case of beer and two bottles of anisado. Nicolas and Karin were at the apartment when we returned. Then Roy came over. I told them the plan, and ordered them specifically not to mention the word “Tradicion” until Anita left. Even though we were speaking in English she’d catch that.

The Irish and I started to get wasted according to the plan. Anita washed the dishes. Clive told her to stop and join us.  I told him to be quiet unless he was going to do the dishes.

I told everybody the story about the parents and that I was moving out. Everybody laughed and sympathized. Nicolas said he was moving out too. He was justifiably pissed they went in his room. They don’t go in my room, Beto’s old room, but much of their stuff is in the master bedroom. If they did go into my room, they could be appalled by what they’d see: bloody condoms, balled up tissue encrusted with semen littered on the ground, stankin’ sweat socks and gym clothes, etc. I might even be embarrassed if they did. There are serious privacy issues in this household and Nicolas is not a happy camper.

The Irish and I finished the case of beer and anisado. We were drunk. Unfortunately, Anita was not deterred at all from going out with us. My plan failed. However, I got so pissy drunk carrying out the plan that I didn’t care about any potential consequences. The Irish, the roommates, Anita, Roy and I left for Tradicion around midnight.

We got wasted on the patio before venturing inside to the dancefloor. Within four steps of walking inside, I ran into Rosa’s best friend from high school. Well that was fast. I probably could’ve contained the damage, but I was so drunk I didn’t recognize her when she greeted me. I got her name wrong and mistook her for somebody else. She had to tell me who she was. I walked away without kissing her cheek and danced with Anita, occasionally making out in the middle of the dance floor. I was really drunk.

Anita went home around 3 while the rest of us went to a house party. Clive picked up a Peruvian girl and made out with her in another room. Nicolas and I left around 6, arriving at the apartment at 6:30am. The Irish stayed at the party until 8. Simon and Gavin told me that Clive threw up at the party, in the taxi, outside of their hostel, and in the hostel toilet. Then he went to sleep on that toilet for an hour or so before returning to his bed and throwing up there as well.

I heard the bell ring around 11 am. I smiled, assuming it to be the Irish. Nicolas knocked on my door and told me Rosa was outside. Fuck.

Rosa has never come over unannounced. I painfully limped downstairs, dreading the inevitable. She told me she wanted her camera’s memory card (which I still had for the Colca pics) and money for two months’ phone service which she paid for me.

We walked up to the apartment without saying anything. I gave it all to her. Nicolas and Karen had the misfortune of being in the kitchen. Rosa told me she knows about last night. “Obvio,” I replied. She told me she wanted the SIM card from my phone, which she’d given me. I told her no. She raised her voice. I told her no.

She ran upstairs and locked herself in my room. After realizing the phone wasn’t in there, she let me in and closed the door. She started yelling and calling me names: perro and pendejo. I told her she couldn’t have the SIM because I had family in town and they needed to call me. She wouldn’t leave without the card.

I started feeling bad for what I did. I also wanted her to leave because I was so hung over. I gave her the SIM and regretted it all day long. That had all my phone numbers, including Anita’s and Sonia’s.

After Rosa left I decided to find the Irish before they woke up. They couldn’t call me. I didn’t know the name of their hostel nor where it was. For about ten seconds on Saturday, I had glanced at Simon’s map that the hostel gave him so I had a general idea where it might be. I walked around for over an hour before I found it around 1 pm. The Irish were still sleeping.

I told them the story. They laughed. I decided that, to celebrate my being single, I should bang a whore. Simon had read the Amanecer article and was curious to see the place but not interested in banging whores.

Around 10 pm Simon, Gavin, Roy, Nicolas, Karen, this British guy from the hostel named Nick, and I started drinking Fernet and Coke at my apartment (I love Fernet and I asked Simon to bring some from Argentina). We got buzzed up and went to Deja Vu.

There were so many hot bricheras I started dancing. Two hot ones approached and introduced themselves. One of them was absolutely smoking hot. Slim, hard body with a flat stomach and big boobs. Her face was immaculate. Her skin was soft and silky. She rubbed my arms, shoulders, and felt me up under my shirt. We danced for a few songs.

These girls lived in Lima and it was their last night in Arequipa. Despite her being so hot, and hot for me, I concluded they just wanted to dance and would go back to their hotel without us. I didn’t want to invest time or effort chasing these two when I can definitely get laid at the whorehouse and still be in bed by 3 am. I told her we were leaving and she got mad. Nick, Roy, and Karen stayed at Deja Vu while Simon, Gavin, Nicolas and I headed to Amanecer.

I’ve steered clear of obvious bricheras. The ones I’ve met seem too easy. Now I’m having second thoughts. This one was HOT. I should enjoy something immaculate once or twice in my life. All the problems that would come with her being a gold digger, a gringo hunter, her constantly being chased by other men, her having a spoiled mentality because men have always given them whatever they want – this would make a relationship with me not feasible. However, maybe I could enjoy something like that for a few weeks or so.

Out of the taxi at Amanecer, we saw a security guard dressed in a black uniform like SWAT with a black ski mask and a baton on his hip. He was yelling and pushing and hitting a group of degenerates, scoundrels, and losers who were hanging around and being ugly on the sidewalk. When he saw me, he pulled down part of the mask so his face showed. “What’s up, man?”  he said with a thick accent but good English. He told me he’d lived in Jersey. “Are you going to go fuck a bitch?” I told him I probably would. He approved.

We got a table, ordered beers, and looked around. This was a first for the others. One woman kept catching my eye. I bought her a drink and she sat on my lap. She was huge. She must have weighed at least 150 lbs, maybe 160. All boobs and butt. Her boobs were falling all over the place. Her butt was big and firm.

I took her into a room and the experience was thoroughly unremarkable. She talked dirty to try to make me cum. I’m not a fan of dirty talk. It ruins my concentration. She did a typical whore trick for larger gents – during doggystyle she snuck her hand down and made a whole in front of her vagina so I was fucking her hand and couldn’t dig in as deep as I’d like.

Afterwards I rejoined the table. Gavin bought a girl a drink. He joked with her and showed her pictures from their South American voyage. Simon could sense that I was ready for bed and asked if I wanted to leave. The conversation went like this:

Simon: Are you ready to go?
Me: Yeah, but I don’t want to rush Gavin.
Simon: He can be ready.
Me: What if he wants to have sex with this one?
Simon: He doesn’t.
Me: How do you know?  Did you ask?
Simon: He’s gay.
Me: Oh.

We left. Outside the security guard was still yelling at the degenerates. He saw me and pulled his mask down again. “All these guys,” he proclaimed, ”suck my fucking dick!” I told him I wanted a safe taxi. He led us to the first taxi on the curb and we said goodbye.

It’s amazing how much has changed since the Irish brought their bad luck to town. In less than two days I lost my primary girlfriend, my phone and all the numbers, and my apartment. But it was fun.

Buy Peruvian Maca.

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Tags: arequipa, brichera, brothel, debauchery, latinas, sex