The Girl from Ipanema

Curiously, I felt no guilt whatsoever about being unfaithful to my wife. Fucking Ilsa, for better or worse, was mine and mine alone. It was part of a fuller and richer life experience, and no reflection on my wife at all. Less "what she doesn't know etc." than what I now know and didn't before. I have always tried to learn from my mistakes.

Ron and Joe were still in the bar talking to some other American visitors when I returned after a little less than two hours. In response to their inquiry, I said "Great bod" with a grin and left it at that. It is another total myth that men talk about sex. I never have (with men) and don't know any friends who do. Yeah, we comment about the fox walking by, but what goes on behind closed doors generally stays there.

I excused myself after a little while to return to our room for a shower. I was surprisingly tired and the hot shower felt good. Re-living the evening in my mind as I soaped my cock and balls, the horn returned as I thought of how I had wanted to enjoy Ilsa's fine body. It only took about five minutes to shoot off against the shower wall. And it felt better than one hour before. Go figure. My hands (the left on my now delightfully loose sac) are a poor substitute for pussy – so where does that leave Ilsa's uninvolved quim?

Two nights later, we were in Rio.

Rio de Janeiro was the place for my enlightenment. We had arrived late on a Monday night. After making our mission inspection the next day, we had done some sightseeing and ended with a nice dinner near our hotel on Ipanema Beach. Returning to the sidewalk bistro in front of the hotel around 9 p.m., we settled in with a cocktail to contemplate further activities that evening. I remember having a very fulsome, expansive sense of well-being as I enjoyed the sunset and inhaled the salty sea air.

And so I came to be seated at that bistro on Ipanema Beach in late June 1970, when I first spotted her walking along the beach boulevard toward us. She was with two other young women as they turned into the outside seating area. No eye contact but they seated themselves at the wrought iron table immediately across the aisle from usui. We were too much gentlemen to stare, but none of us thought it necessary to herald their arrival with an elbow or a "hey, check it out." They had our attention.

All three appeared to be in their mid-twenties, with the brown skin of Brazilian natives. Two wore short skirts with nylons, and sweaters showing a little cleavage. Both were of average height and weight, with the modest heels of a business employee out for dinner and a drink after work. Their facial features were undistinguished to me but not unattractive, heavily indigenous in appearance. They did not strike me as working girls but after Santiago I had developed a hefty skepticism.

The third one was different. Perhaps a little younger, she wore bellbottom slacks with open toed, strapped heels. Her wraparound sweater was tasteful, concealing a flat chest. Her long curly black hair was pulled back on either side with barrettes, exposing a long, graceful neck and quality earrings. She was the smallest of the three, 5 feet tall and no more than 100 lbs.

She had a very pretty face with high cheekbones, almond dark eyes, a narrow nose and medium full lips. Clearly she had some European ancestry in there somewhere. But what really caught my attention was her ass. A nice, tight, small, round ass accentuated by her slacks. Not really that tight, her slacks seemed to be tailored for her butt and defined the crack between her cheeks almost like paint. The cheeks were perfectly in proportion to her narrow hips. No panty lines! In short, an ass to die for.

Prior to the girls arrival I was considering calling it a night. I had given two of my remaining four condoms to Ron and Joe, who were talking about hitting two nearby nightclubs looking for action. I had never been very good at picking up girls in that setting, so I was about to beg off for an early night in our room. Her arrival changed all that.

We established eye contact while they were ordering their cervezas, and began a conversation. Joe spoke Spanish and I spoke French but none of us spoke Portuguese, the language of Brazil. They spoke a little English and we had enough to communicate about the cool day and the absence of sunbathers on the famous beach. (Indeed, we had been quite disappointed to see no monokini's that afternoon, just older women with young children playing in the sand). They pointed out that it was winter there in June and agreed it was still a little chilly for Rio that evening. But it was positively balmy after our time in Santiago.

The weather report was enough to get us to their table. I moved my chair next to hers and my friends took chairs on the other side of the table. Instead of a dance over who got whom, I was always struck with how easily these things work out. I don't think the others sorted themselves out until later but I was only interested in one, and fortunately she seemed interested in me. I was easily the biggest of the three men, 6'2'' and about 225 lbs. Perhaps I met her image of a big American. I was certainly that as a former football player and a Ranger, hardened from military training. Or maybe it was my baby blues.

I found out her name was Gabriella and she worked as an interpreter for a local business council (Spanish, with some French). We did a little French and a little English, and I bought her another beer. In the process, I discovered her best feature by far were her sparkling brown eyes. Her eyes flashed and boldly held mine as we talked, gesticulating often with her hands. Her perfume was a delicate scent of gardenia wafting to my eager nostrils. I was mesmerized. I had come to observe that the eyes are the most erotic body feature and that evening was proof of that axiom. I didn't know whether the pupils give away the attraction by widening to accommodate pleasant images, but our eyes were working overtime.

When she got up to attend the restroom, I got to see that ass again. After watching it sway out of sight, the other women laughed at my obvious admiration. I swallowed, pulling my tongue back in my mouth and changed the subject. They were talking up a nearby nightclub but I was noncommittal until Gabriella returned.

When she did, she seemed lukewarm about clubbing, saying she was tired. In the process of discussing that with her girlfriends, she pulled out her cigarettes to light one. I studied her delicate hands then for the first time, adorned only with a small emerald ring on the right hand and a thin gold band on the ring finger of her left hand. I immediately offered her a light and Gabriella held my hand with her slender fingers to steady the flame. As her fingers lingered on the back of mine, her pack fell on the pavement. We both reached for it but her hand got there first, presenting me with a perfect view of her right nipple and breast under her momentarily gaping sweater front.

Time stood still. The hair on the back of my neck bristled and I actually blushed. Her touch and exposure caused a rush in my ears which drowned out the other conversation when her eyes immediately met mine with a knowing smile. I didn't know whether she intended to expose her nipple (had she removed her bra or simply not been wearing one?) but Gabriella knew I had seen it.

After holding my eyes a little longer, she turned to her friends and said she was going to go home, instead of the club. Gabriella lived about three blocks back from the Beach and offered to escort her home. My friends were going to the clubs with the other two women, so we parted around 10 pm.

I remember being surprised at my good fortune to be walking Gabriella to her apartment instead of killing another two hours at a disco. I wasn't sure what would happen when we got there, but at least it would happen two hours sooner. I knew I did not want this evening to end.

I was quite the reserved gentleman during the fifteen- minute walk, holding her elbow as we crossed streets and continuing conversation as best we could. Her apartment was in a building above retail clothing stores on a wide commercial boulevard off the Beach. I felt like we were on a date as we came to the main downstairs door, where I intended to at least get a kiss.

She retrieved her key from her bag and said "voulez-vous .. cerveza? (would you like a beer)."

Understanding this to be an invitation to come up, I smiled and replied "Oui, merci, mais une Coke s'il vous plait (yes thank you but a coke please)."

I had had enough alcohol for the evening. She opened the door and took my hand to lead me to the open lift and then to her apartment door.

CHAPTER IV

Her place was a one-bedroom studio with no more that a heating plate and a half refrigerator for a kitchen. It had mostly bare walls and concrete floors common in the third world at that time. Two small area rugs and the sparse appointments suggested that it had been rented furnished. The warm smell of the studio was vaguely of olive oil and suntan lotion, with the ubiquitous scent of gardenia which I have always associated with Gabriella after that night.

I dropped my jacket on a chair and stood looking out the balcony door onto the quiet street below. In a corner of my mind I was still wary about being asked for money, unsure in a foreign culture about pick-ups, which I guess this was. She had asked nothing of me but I couldn't quite believe she had asked me up just because she was attracted to me. The fat little boy I had been so long before, dies hard.

She brought two glasses of Coke as I stood by the balcony. As I took my glass, she captured my eyes and I raised a silent toast. I sipped my coke while holding her eyes, set both glasses down and took her in my arms. I could not be certain her eyes held the invitation but I could wait no longer to feel her delicate body against mine.

Gabriella raised her slightly open mouth for a kiss. I was overcome with tenderness for this small woman as I softly touched her lips to mine, inhaling her scent and breath as my arms circled her. Her eyes closed and her arms reached up to my shoulders to pull my lips closer. Tighter and tighter we pulled one another and her tongue made the first tentative foray into my mouth, her lips melting in a passionate kiss. I clasped her closer and explored her lips and mouth with my tongue. Such an incredible tool is the tongue. I pulled her lips away from her teeth and the roof of her mouth and the underside of her tongue, all so wet and erotic. Softly I bit her lips and kissed her eyelids. I inhaled her skin. A tactile circus.

My hands were caressing her back during all of this, and finally dropped to grasp her incredible ass. That, and her consent in the form of an even more open mouth and active tongue, caused such a rush to my head I literally became light-headed and dizzy, my heart pounding. I had to sit down, so pulled her petite body to the nearby loveseat and settled her in my lap.

I backed off to a more leisurely exploration of her face, while trying to regain control of my faculties. I was stunned at the passion I was feeling. This was supposed to be an adventure about getting laid, a strange piece of ass. What had so captivated me about this young woman? How, in the space of an hour and a half, had this flirtation without a future turned into such lust? I had been prepared to accept a chaste goodnight kiss a little while ago. Now I was experiencing a mounting desire for this exotic woman. Why? Her perfect ass alone could not explain this phenomenon. It was far more than just a desire to get into her pants.

I didn't know what she was thinking but her passion seemed as strong as mine. My hand was on her ass again and I decided to go with it – anything that felt this good couldn't be bad. Our mouths had been exploring for twenty minutes - no words – just sighs. I lifted my hand to her breast and heard her breath "oui". Gently massaging through her sweater, I brushed her nipple and felt its arousal. I slipped my fingers under the sweater to capture her nipple, circling around it, over it, and finally squeezing it between thumb and finger. I had no trouble loosening her wraparound tie and as her sweater fell away, I gazed upon her breasts.

They were so small and pert – adorned by small, tight, brown areola. But her nipples were brown towers of flesh – now sticking out like soft thimbles. I think it safe to say that I was not previously an admirer of small breasts but that night, on her, they were perfect – exquisite. And I proceeded to worship them.

Hands, fingers, thumbs, mouth, lips, teeth and tongue all came into play as I feasted upon her tits, and back to her neck, ears, eyes, and mouth. I couldn't get enough of her. Like every small breasted woman I have encountered since, her nipples were extremely sensitive and a great source of pleasure to her (and me). She held my head to suckle her tits, punctuated by moans and gasps when I gently bit them. Time seemed to stand still as I adored her. If Gabriella had the usual female insecurity about small breasts, she quickly learned of my enthusiasm for hers just the way they were. They were hers and I loved them.

It now seemed a foregone conclusion that we would be lovers, but I was in no hurry. Neither of us was turning back after this explosion of passion. As I sucked her nipple, I slid my hand down to her flat belly, and then to the mysterious junction of her thighs.

"Oui," she said and stood up to shrug off her sweater and remove her slacks.

But I pulled her hand from the clasp and zipper at the side of her hip. "Moi (me)," I said and she smiled.

But before unzipping her, I turned hr to survey her perfect bottom. She looked back as I traced the crack between the cheeks and massaged her firm butt. Holding her eyes, I gently moved my hands up her legs, first outside and then inside. I wanted to feel her legs before seeing them, and found them firm and well proportioned. Then I reached my palm between her thighs to her mound, massaging and then rotating my fingers down to cup her pussy. I lightly ran my fingers along her furrow feeling the wetness seeping through. Her eyes closed at this with a sigh, but then opened as I turned her again to watch me kiss her mound while looking up at her.

I pressed my cheek against her belly as I grasped her ass with both hands. Then I slowly undid her zipper and peeled her slacks down her hips and thighs. Only white silk panties remained, sort of like a G-string but with a small panel in the back. I had never seen such an article before but I guess it was another erotic Brazilian invention. I turned her around to see the back and that gorgeous naked ass. She still had her heels on and that exquisite butt looked even better in the flesh.

"Tres, tres, tres jolie (very, very, very pretty)," I whispered. I kissed each cheek several times as I ran my hands gently along her crack to her vulva and back.

I then turned her back around to kiss her belly before lowering her panties. Her narrow bush appeared, diving into her hidden sex. I leaned into her, inhaling deeply and kissing the tight mat of black hair. She smelled of musk and gardenia, a scent that has always since conjured up visions of Gabriella. I thought of going further as I wanted to explore her body and give her every pleasure I could. But she held my head tightly to her mound, and I was sufficiently unsure of myself that I didn't want to screw it up and destroy the moment.

I stood lifting her into my arms and carried her to the day bed against the wall. It was more a fold out couch with a sheet and blanket spread over it. After placing her back on her feet, I stood in front of her, looking into her eyes as I removed my shirt. Gabriella reached up to release the barrettes holding her luxurious, curly, black hair. We embraced again, as I inhaled the gardenia scent of her hair and felt her turgid nipples against my chest as we kissed, a lovely sensation. I slipped my hands down to her naked ass, separating her cheeks to feel her warmth and wetness. I think we both gasped when I reached further down her crack to the back of her pussy, pressing into her creamy wetness. God I wanted this woman! I knelt to remove her shoes as she sat and lay back on the bed.

Gabriella was a vision lying there with a white triangle around her bush where her bikini protected her from the sun. Tilted on her side with her knee slightly raised to give me a peek at the lips of her pussy while luxuriant hair spread across the pillow. I removed my trousers, shoes and socks and slid across the bed to hold her in my arms again. I had been hard for some time (since I first touched her ass), but was in no hurry to expose my cock. The passion I felt wasn't going anywhere but to her, and I knew my rod would stay hard for a long time.

I took her in my arms as our lips joined again. I slid my hand down to explore her pussy. She was already quite wet and her moist lips opened easily after lightly stoking her thighs and labia. Around and around I moved my fingers inside her silken, creamy lips, nudging her clitoris at the top each time. She spread her thighs wider to give me better access, all the while working her tongue in my mouth. After thoroughly wetting my fingers and her opening I slipped a finger into her perfect cunt. She moaned and caressed my chest. A second finger soon followed, and then a third, as I prepared her.

"Et tu prêt, mon amour (are you ready my love)?" I said as I stood up to remove my shorts.

"Oui," Gabriella whispered as she stared at my rigid cock out of the corner of her eye.

She did not look at it directly nor did she make a move to touch it. It was as though she didn't quite know how to react. But she knew where it went as she scooted to the center of the bed, while raising and spreading her knees as I rolled my condom on. Our eyes met and she smiled reaching for my hips.

I remember being very conscious of her small delicate body as I carefully nestled my hips between her thighs. With all my weight on my elbow and side, I began to rub my cock between her labia. Slowly, very slowly, I began to press into her cunt. She was very wet, but very tight and it seemed to take several minutes before I actually entered her. She held her breath as she watched my entry, holding my hips in her hands to ensure that I did not move too quickly.

"Trop grand (too big)," she sighed as she exhaled when I started to push more than half into her velvet cunt.

I was careful to tentatively touch bottom softly, learning how far I could stroke without hurting her. And then I released my cock to rest on both my elbows over her as I leaned down to kiss her. She lightly hooked her ankles around my knees and buried her face in my chest as I began gently moving in and out of Gabriella.

Her cunt was ecstasy. Like a wonderful wet velvety glove, it gave me the most exquisite sensations imaginable. The rubber was irrelevant, so tight was her grip on me. In and out, in and out, holding back just enough to safeguard her cervix, I became lost in the thrill of her pussy. I just wanted to fuck her and fuck her and fuck her. My pleasure was so complete that for several minutes I was aware of nothing else in the universe than what her sweet cunt was doing to my cock.

Then, like waking from a drug induced high, I focused back on this tiny woman who was giving me so much pleasure. I sought her lips and began using my tongue to mimic the movements of my cock. I nuzzled her neck and ears with my lips and tongue. I varied the pace of my thrusting with some faster strokes. But I did not sense the same passion in her that ha been present before I entered her. Her breathing seemed even, her hips quiescent.

It was almost as if the good part ended for her when the fucking began. Here I was lost in indescribable sensation and she seemed to be waiting for me to cum (which was indeed becoming a threat). This was not what I envisioned, for I wanted desperately to give her as much pleasure as she was giving me. Was I too big or hurting her or doing something wrong for her or was this all she expected from fucking? I didn't know and could not guess the answer.