Never Have I Ever… (2013)

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I collect moments so I can look back at them when I am old.. but which are the moments that we really remember?Which do we keep on recounting over and over again?

Upon request from one of my readers to write about Swiss men, I have decided to share a fairly old story about a Swiss-German guy I met while working in Panama. The reason I didn’t write about him write right away is for some reason he didn’t stick in my mind. There are men I have had the most romantic experiences with, only to forget them as soon as the wheels of the plane took off the ground. While others, like my friend Franko, still make me sad with every Facebook update.

Anyways, requests from you guys are important to me, so here goes…

The rainy season wasn’t coming for a month, so in order to conserve electricity and not use up the so needed AC, Panamanian workers received a week off from work. When I realized I would get a four day long weekend, I quickly decided to head back to Santa Catalina for a break. There was an international surfing championship happening there, so lots of parties to look forward to. Two busses and a long walk later, I arrived to the surfing hostel with two new friends I made on the bus – one Australian and one German.

The owner of the hostel was away so in charge were his two pot smoking young Brazilian sons. One, Gabriel, was gorgeous. I stared at him on my way in and he at me. He couldn’t have been older than 24, so it was a definite no go. Still, the attention he showed me was really flattering. When I asked him a question about why there was a closet full of surfboards instead of a bathroom as the sign showed, he stared at me for ages before coming out with a response. And ok, he might have been stoned, but he also looked mesmerized by me, which felt great.

That night, the German, the Aussie and I headed to Chili Rojos. If you read my Argentinian story, you will know that was the same place I met Pablo. We stood in front of the bar, when a car came to a halt in front of us and a blond boy with a very German face leaned out of the window.

“You know vere zer is good place to eat?” he asked in a very thick accent.

We directed him to where we were going and soon enough, ended up joining his table. He was with two other guys and a girl with cropped hair, who later turned out to be his brothers and sister.  Being very German in behaviour, the guys were very nice, but quite robotic and awkward around me. Erich seemed to be the fun and loose one of the group. When we played a game of “Never Have I Ever”, he seemed to be the most experienced one. He was also the most flirtatious with me, and of course quickly established himself as the leader, being the oldest.

After we headed to another bar, where I felt more awkward by the second as the brothers surrounded me and flirted with me. They were all over me, hanging on to every word I said and instead of flattering it began to feel slightly creepy. Flirting is definitely not the Swiss-German forte. Nor the German. Instead of the natural fluidity of the Italians or the Spanish, Germans are stiff and uncomfortable, which makes you equally so.  Once the brothers realized I was into Erich, they grew visibly sad and just stood there even more awkwardly.

Erich offered we go for a walk to the ocean, which was about a twenty minute hike in absolute darkness made only lighter by the bright stars that covered the sky. During the walk, he kissed me and we kissed the whole dark way down to the water. Once on the beach, our little adventure got crazier.

He removed my clothes, and almost ordered me to get into the water. With his thick Swiss-German accent, it actually sounded quite dominant, so I obeyed. Curiosity tends to get the best of me as I always long for adventure and new experiences. Well, this was definitely an interesting one. Naked, and emerged in shallow water, with him over me and melodic trance playing far off in the distance, I felt weightless and carefree.This is when he scooped up mud and began ‘drawing’ on me. Yes, I am not even kidding. The whole thing was surreal but I enjoy people with a sense of creativity and this Swiss boy had more than enough of it.

Never have I ever lied naked in the water with a stranger covered in dirt and here I was. Mr. Artisto decided to stick his cell phone in my bag and hang it across himself.  It wasn’t a surprise when it fell in the water and died. By the end of this adventure, we were both shoeless, (as our flip flops got carried away with the tide) and dirty.

We walked barefoot to my hostel, laughing about the whole thing, only to find out that there was no water back at my hippy place and we would have to sleep dirty. Using the only towel I had, we dried ourselves off, or rather – scrubbed the dirt away and got into bed.

I shared the room with another girl who slept off to the other side. However, we ended up having sex in that same room, and then Mr. Commander decided he wanted to try it on the balcony until the rail almost gave out and we had to step away quickly. Otherwise, they would have found two muddy, naked people lying on the grass underneath the window.

Why did I have sex with Erich the first night? Well, he was definitely inventive and there was not a dull second with him. And even though he definitely had a few slightly crazy ideas in his head, I fully trusted him. The guy spent majority of his twenties in a serious relationship. Now, he wanted to try something new, to experiment, to have crazy moments in his life. I felt we both wanted the same thing. Not even the sex itself, more an adventure to share.

The_Beach_at_Santa_Catalina,_Panama_(8369739920)Early that morning, we walked down the beach in search of our shoes and praise Jesus, there they were! Rejoicing, we hugged and kissed. He went back to his hotel and I went back to get some breakfast. He told me he would contact me that evening.

Meanwhile, Gabriel, the Brazilian kept on throwing longing gazes at me. I wasn’t really into anyone. If I really fell for Erich, I wouldn’t have noticed anyone around me, but I was bored. Life in Panama didn’t give me what I wanted – feelings. And if I couldn’t get feelings, I would compensate for something memorable.

“Are you going to the party tonight?” Asked Gabriel.

He was behind the bar serving drinks and he looked gorgeous – curly hair, full lips, that bronze tan that comes with life on the beach.

“I think so.”

There was a surfing championship end party happening that night and the whole hostel was going. Apart from me, there were only a handful of girls staying at the surfing hostel and as flattering as the attention was, ten guys to two girls ratio got to be a little much. The Swiss brothers, the Brazilians, men everywhere. You could probably smell testosterone a mile away from Santa Catalina. That and horniness.

I wasn’t sure how, but I wanted to have something with Gabriel, even though Erich texted he would see me later. I drove to the area with Gabriel’s brother and soon we got a group of Panamanians dancing to reggaeton. Neither Gabriel nor Erich were anywhere to be seen. Suddenly, as trance began playing, I could see a group of blond Europeans charging our way, their fists pumping the air.

One of them was Erich and his brothers, who now actually began to act coolly around me. I hugged him to me and we all began dancing. An hour or so later, he had to drive everyone back.

“You will wait for me, Mia? I will be back in twenty minutes!” he told me.

“Sure” I said. “I will wait.”

At first I danced by myself, feeling quite awkward amongst a crowd of people I didn’t know. Then, I saw Gabriel. We talked a bit, then began dancing – closer and closer until his breath was on my face. He seemed nervous as he leaned in to kiss me, but relaxed as I reciprocated. We kissed and kissed, until I realized it was time Erich would be returning. Like a complete bitch (I still feel kind of bad for it), I told Gabriel I had to go to the bathroom and walked the other way.

Just in that moment, Erich saw me. One second earlier and he would have seen me with the Brazilian. I jumped into his arms and he hugged me tightly to him. I thought I saw Gabriel looking at us, though I wasn’t so sure. We danced, then went further on to the wooded area to continue dancing barefoot until he forgot where he left his shoes. Again. We searched for them until even the police themselves decided to help us out with a flashlight.

After the dancing, we drove to the beach where he played commander, part two. He took me in his arms and asked me to lean backward on my hands as he kissed my body. I don’t even know why, but I was relaxed and eager to try all these things with him. Never have I ever done acrobatic tricks on the beach, and here I was, completely out of my body, not thinking… and as an over thinker, that was a refreshing sensation.

Never have I ever had sex in a car” I offered as we got into the comfy minivan.

He eyed me. “We can arrange that.”190342482_552ad209ac

We drove into the woods, ‘parked’ in a ditch and moved all the seats back.  The windows got fogged, as if we were both in “Titanic” (except without the hand imprint), when the police decided to check up on us. They thought something might be wrong with the car. Erich, his hair discheveled and his face flushed, opened the window.

“No, todo bien. Gracias” he said in his broken Spanish.

I killed myself laughing.

Later, we sat naked on the floor of the car with the door slid opened, naked, my head on his shoulder and talked about life in general. I wish I could remember what we said to each other, but time erases memory, leaving only the most significant conversations in your head. Next day, I was leaving back to Panama City and he told me he would visit me before he left back to Zurich.

Last time I saw him, he took a taxi to the old part of the city just to meet me a couple of hours before he had to leave.  He spent those hours giving me a massage and did not even instigate sex until I lunged at him, which showed to me I gave him more than just a great sexperience. He lay next to me, caressing my face until it was time to leave and after kissing me softly, closed the door behind him.

I asked him to mail me some Swiss chocolate.

We wrote each other back and forth until we had nothing more to write about. I will be honest – I hardly ever think about Erich and had it not been the request to write about a Swiss guy I never would have mentioned him.

There are guys we can have the craziest, most amazing few days with, but not remember, and there are those we barely know or exchange one kiss with, but that is the one kiss that we keep on reverting back to over and over again. I’m glad I did those things I have never ever done, and wouldn’t have if I didn’t meet Erich, but real feelings are so much more important than just a sum of experiences.

When you like someone, really like them – every look is meaningful, every touch is electrified and every sense is heightened. And even the most regular experience can take on a new meaning. It is not the moments I tried so hard to collect, thinking ‘that would make a good story’ that I recall, it is those that I lived and breathed through, the ones when I really lived in the present.

Believe it or not, but never have I ever been in love. I write about dating, I make videos about dating.. but I have yet to feel an overwhelming emotion. And that, my readers, is the biggest irony of all!BeFunky_970981_409179255857516_1613477559_n32.jpg32

Please share with me any story of mine that really caught your attention and tell me why. Thanks for reading and keep asking for requests!

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But I love you (2012)

A hilarious story of being chased down by an Italian guy in the middle of the night as he professed his love for me. Ah, Italian men.  It is a must try speciality on your next trip to Italy, followed by an aperitivo and tartuffo gelato.

Having heard amazing things about Sorrento, located in the Amalfi Coast of Italy, from my friend who met a beautiful Italian and had sex with him on a beach (followed by no more romance, clearly) I was interested to see what this place would be like. It is swamped by men, narrated my friend, her eyes lit up. You have to go there!

Amalfi-Coast

beautiful Amalfi coast

She was right about one thing, it was filled with beautiful men. Bronzed, toned and practically smelling of scooters and sex, they were everywhere. I even made it a game for myself to see how many guys I could consider sleeping with. The list made it pretty far before I gave up counting and considered myself a slut.

That night though, I didn’t meet anyone and was tired of sitting in touristy bars, scoping out guys, so I followed the girls from my hostel home.

Suddenly, I heard someone speaking in Italian behind me. I turned around. There was this pretty blond boy with light blue eyes and sculpted lips, a helmet in his hands, following me.

Baciami!” He pointed at his cheek, clearly wanting me to kiss him.

Vaffanculo!”  I gestured, happy I got a chance to use one of my favorite and perfected Italian phrases. Learning Italian has finally paid off.small-vaffanculo

The boy seemed to get the hint somewhat and disappeared. Minutes later, however, he reappeared right behind me.

Catso!” I exclaimed with my swear number two, though a part of me was strangely flattered. He was quite beautiful. Tall, tanned, sporting a light pink polo shirt and jeans. I knew there was only one reason he must have followed me this far and it wasn’t because he wanted to get to know me.

“What is your name?” he asked, coming up.

“What is yours?” I asked.

“I am Gabrielle”

“Mia”

“I can walk with you, Mia?” It wasn’t really a question. Rather a matter of fact.

“You look like you are too young for me” I told him, looking him over. He looked to be about twenty-three.

“I am not too young” he said.

“Just how young are you?” I pressed, not really wanting to know anyways. It was clear he was too young.

“I am twenty-one” he said. “Actually, I joke. I am twenty-four. Does it matter?”

“Yes, I am twenty-seven. You are too young either way.” I said and continued walking.

He ran up to me and grabbed my hand. “Come with me.” The girls continued walking in front of us.

“I am not going anywhere with you.” I said, trying to break my hand free. At the same time, a little intrigued and curious as usual, I thought why not? I might have a chance to write about him later in my blog.

Suddenly, he took my face and turned it to his. He kissed me so quickly, I didn’t even have a chance to react. But once he did kiss me, I pushed him away. “What are you doing?”

“ I like you” He said. “You are very beautiful.”

“You do not even know me!” I exclaimed with a half laugh. “What is my name?”

“Uh.. Maria?”

“There you go. You don’t even know my name. How can you ‘like me’?”

“Mia. Your name Mia. I remember names.” He smiled impishly.

I sighed. “Ok, nice to meet you. Now I’m going to go.”

“Where you go? I go with you.”

“You are not going to my hotel. My friends are waiting for me.” I pointed at the bored Australian girls who were standing a few meters away, talking and looking back every so often.

“It’s ok” he said. “Come!” he led me to a side street. I tried fighting him off, but it was quite useless. Probably because I didn’t really fight him off, rather pretended to.

Un baccio per favore!

Un baccio per favore!

There, in that side street, he took my face in his hands and began kissing me again, eagerly.

“Why you are not relaxed?” he asked. “Try to relax when I kiss you.”

“I am not relaxed, because I don’t want to kiss you!” I said. This was incredible – now I wasn’t relaxed when kissing him. The guy that literally forced himself on me.

“I help you find your hotel” He said.

“No”

“Si, we go together.” He stated as if I had no other choice. “I know everything in Sorrento.”

“You are not helping me find my hotel. I don’t even know you.”

“You do. I am Gabrielle. You are Mia”

I sighed loudly, exasperated. “My friends are waiting for me!”

“Is ok. They know where the hotel is, yes?”

Giving up and also finding this quite hilarious, I followed his lead. We walked around the dark streets speaking a mixture of bad English on his part and bad Italian on my part. Every so often, he would stop and say “Uf, I need a break.” Then he would press me to him and begin kissing me. At first I kept on pushing him away, but as the kissing continued, I finally gave in and began to enjoy myself a bit. He was a kid but a very beautiful and Italian kid and what better way to enjoy Italy then through a genuine Italian experience?

Just like that

Just like that

Finally, through all the walking and getting lost, my relationship with Gabrielle escalated so much and so rapidly that he looked into my eyes after kissing me and said the three words every girl wants to hear.

Ti amo

I burst out laughing. “You do not love me! What is it with you Italian men?”

“But I do. I love you.”

“You don’t know me!I just met you twenty minutes ago. You don’t even know what I do!”

“What do you do, Mia?”

“I am a teacher. And you?”

“I am studying to be chiropractor.” He answered. Having gotten that out of the way he pulled me into him again. “Kiss me”

There it was. Our first real relationship talk. Now we knew each other inside and out.

The next time we got lost, I figured he must be doing this on purpose.

“You better help me find the hotel.”

“Why are you in hurry?” He asked.

“I am tired, that’s why.”

“Why you are tired. Is early.”

“It is 4 am.”

“Early! Kiss me!” he pressed his eager lips into mine.

I sighed. There was no way out of this. He pressed me towards the fence and kissed me. He also pressed his erection towards my pelvis and I figured this time he wanted more than kissing. I guessed I was right when I heard unzipping.

This is when I squirmed out of his passionate embrace and practically ran down the hill. He ran after me.

“Mia, I am sorry.  Mia, wait!”

“I am not having sex with you.”

“No sex, just kissing. I love you.”

“Stop saying you love me already!” I exclaimed. He was being ridiculous. “All you Italian men are the same.”

“I am good boy. What are you saying?” He smiled impishly.

We walked around for a few more  minutes, until finally I located the road my hotel was on and skipped towards it happily with him following behind grouchily.

Entrance to the hotel

Knowing this was it, the end of our quick romance, he pressed me towards yet another fence and once again, I felt his hardness on me.

“Gabrielle” I said, once I finally had a chance to breathe. “ I am not having sex with you.”

“But you are twenty-seven. You are virgin?” he cocked his head to the side, genuinely confused.

“That’s not your business. But either way, I don’t go to Italy to have sex with all Italian boys” I exclaimed.

“But I love you.” He continued.

Exasperated I broke out of his embrace and walked towards the hotel. “Goodnight Gabrielle!”

Standing there, dejected he looked towards me as I walked through the door. “Ciao

And the strange thing is, he must have loved me so much, his heart probably broke from sadness, because I never saw him again.2