A day in the DR life of the Sage

[LM]

This makes for excellent reading.....like the emotional detail, it's good to hear and real honest

[Hemp]

2nd read...for study purposes!

simply brilliant...

[LM]

To bad I didn't get to meet you Sage....I think you were in Classico's one night when Kevy and I were there, I think Kevy talked to you a bit.

[TG37]

Sage great report , I truely enjoyed reading. I appreciate your honesty !

[Apos]

it's a great pleasure to read about your experiences. it takes a brave soul to open up and tell all.

i bet many of us have been or are in similar circumstances...or are atleast thinking about it.

i suspect the good outweighs the bad by a huge margin even though you obviously felt awkward about your position at times.

it just goes to show that there is more to life in the DR than just straight-up mongering...thankfully

thank you for taking the time and making the effort to share all of this! i keep reading it as there is so much information and emotion to absorb.

[Ram]

There was real feeling in this thread, no bullshit...nice fresh breath of fresh air.

I know it took a good amound of soul searching to put this stuff together....thank you sir.

[The Sage]

La Vieja

La Vieja and women like her allow me to maintain a tenuous connection to my state-side reality. If I was married here at home, of the three, she would be my wife. Where any woman here with anything from a case of mild lack of self esteem, over boosted ego, or a touch of feminism (I think I just described 98% of American women) would ridicule me endlessly if seen with the wife or LJ, LV would elicit nothing more than a pause and then a hello to the attractive couple. She is in her mid-twenties, but looks about 30 due to her obvious maturity and the character lines she has in her face. She is tranquil, serene, understanding, level headed, has a great sense of humor, and is one of the few native dominicanas who understands my Spanish (big plus). She speaks some English yet refuses to use it because she prefers to laugh and then correct my bad Spanish. It’s quite a sight watching her lost in concentration trying to understand a conversation that is taking place between to English speakers. She has blunt attractive features, mid-shoulder length hair, above average sized breasts, and a behind that has started to spread, but has not lost it’s attractiveness. She has a European sponsor so money is never an issue between us. Though she has many positives she was never in the running for “the wife” role because (I experience a flush of shame as I write this) she is too old and experienced. See “the wife” is a ceremonial title that I can revoke on a whim. Putting LV in the position would be way to close to the real thing and far beyond my comfort level.

I met LV three years ago at one of the POP casas where she worked. Unlike her counterparts she was not into heavy makeup, revealing outfits, suggestive dancing, or aggressive behavior. She simply sat there looking like a very attractive normal chick dressed for a night on the town. I salida’d her and we became fast friends. Two days later we were hanging out with her prima and I had visited her apartment. We spent some time together the next trip and then without warning she stopped talking to me. She would respond with a “bien gracias” when I saw her in her place of employment, but that was that. This went on for a year and a quarter until quite unexpectedly she approached one night while I was sitting at the bar evaluating the other merchandize and began a conversation. This led to that and feeling like we had a vibe going I jokingly suggested that I salida her and head to Mangus for drinks and dancing sin sexo. To my surprise she agreed and we proceeded to have a fabulous evening together. At several times during the night she reminded me she would not be sharing my bed or I her body. We went from Mangus to Classico where she leads us in a couple of rounds of tequila. By 4:00 am we are both pretty wasted so I suggested she accompany me home and promised that I would be good. Five minutes after opening the apartment door we are ripping each other’s clothes off. We spent the better part of the next day together and have been communicating both verbally and physically ever since. She is way cool people. I did finally find out why she ceased talking to me. Seems that in a drunken haze during that second trip after our initial introduction I had forgot I invited her to visit me at the Palace. She arrives and I’m no where to be found. She waits two hours then dejectedly heads home. She stayed pissed about this for 1 ¼ years.



An example of how cool, clam, and rational she is can be found in what happened on the day she was to arrive in Sosua for the two days I had slotted for her in the schedule. She is due at three, but calls to tell me she is delayed because of the rain and is chilling at the house of a friend. About 5 minutes later I get a call from a new friend who wants me to meet her in Cabarete. Seeing a prime opportunity for mischief prior to being incarcerated for two days I head off in a driving rainstorm. I then spend a hour eating lunch and then another hour taking advantage of the goodwill that paying for lunch had earned. At several points I call LV to let her know I’m held up because of the rain. Finally around 5:30 I meet her at El Furgons and she gives me a big smile like nothing happened. If this had been LJ she would have tried to crown me the grande I had been drinking. We arrive at the apartment and LV has to suffer another indignity. Before we can enter the gate the nice German lady (not) who manages the place (Club Residencial) wants to have a private conversation with me about my “visitors”. She goes on to explain how she does not want me to besmirch her fine hotel my having an endless stream of women stopping by. And that oops, she had forgot to tell me I was restricted to one woman per day, but because she had not I would receive an exemption good for today. La perra dimissed my POV on the subject and I was informed I had the option of following the rules or checking out. She’s got me here. I have a extremely sweet apartment that I don’t want to abandon. I silently vowed to find a way around this (which I eventually did) and leave the office pissed. When LV asks what transpired I tell her the truth. She is unfazed and simply agrees “que es no bueno”. If this had been the wife or LJ I would have spent the next two hours trying to explain why this “rule” was a problem for me. With LV, no problema, we simply commence the long sex session with breaks for the beach, food, and the disco that our time together has always consisted of except this time it last for two days.

LV is a great to be around and will always be my friend. However, because I can be one vain motherfucker this will probably be the last time I spend any extended time with her. See, despite all her non-physical assets I’m stuck with the two pequenas and she lacks the physical attributes to hold down the spot on the roster reserved for “tall with big titties”. With regret I have reluctantly concluded it is time to find a replacement or simply open the position up to visiting guest stars.

[DEPUTY DAWG]

Excellent writing!!!!!!!!! I'm more partial to LV than the other ones.........But I think with you handling her like this it'll keep you grounded and juggling 3 will keep you rotating them which is good so as not to concentrate too much on one.

[The Sage]

Prelude

Two weeks prior to my scheduled arrival I was suffering from high anxiety generated by an inability to decide how I was to reconcile the desires of both the wife and LJ to spend the first and last day with me. Truth be told LJ, since she worked during the week, had laid claim to both weekends of my stay. The same incident decided who would bear the title of wife for the trip and who would thus have the first day.

LJ works for a company that has offices in both STI and a city in the southeast of the island. About a week before I was to fly I call her for our daily chat and she shares she will visit the other office the next day to pick up a package and return it to STI. When I call the next day she is in the process of fulfilling this task. She’s in the city, but for some reason cloaked in mystery she does not know where within that city she is. This is all very strange to me. I ask her direct questions and get, to say the least, inconsistent responses. She’s fluent in English so we don’t have a language problem. It appears to me she is simply not telling the truth. Okay not a problem. I tell her I’ll call her back and hopefully by then she’ll have her bearings. I call three hours later and she’s at a house. I ask whose house and she claims not to know. I ask have you spoken with the owners of the house. She responds, no, I don’t know who they are and in a testy voice, why you asking so many questions; you always ask so many questions. Her tone coupled with this being, for her, totally out of character lead me to conclude she’s up to something I don’t want to know about. I end the call and don’t talk to her again until 6:00 pm of my day of arrival. By that time the wife is in the bano showering. I reply using the absolute failsafe response, taking into consideration she does not have access to the Sosua chica network, “my plane was late. I tried to call you, but you didn’t pick up the phone. Let’s get together tomorrow”. Okay one problem solved, but now that she’s back on board I again have scheduling issues.

LJ comes to the rescue again. I’m staying at Club Residentcial, everyone that enters must leave her cedula (I truly believe this rule applies only to women, but La perra alamana claims it also applies to men). LJ true to her absent minded who gives a damn 19 year old view of the world has lost her cedula and not replaced it. She visits during the day Saturday, but can not stay the night. She leaves with her propina and unsuspectingly gives the wife a regalo. We do dinner at Baily’s (where I get the shittiest service as a result of being with the wife. The reason belongs to another story that I don’t want to add to this account) and dancing and drinking at Classicos.

I’m really digging spending time with the wife. Her new found ability to speak the English language has contributed to our having much more fun than we usually do outside of the bedroom. Poppa has the baby and she has plenty of time for, me. The little one comes home Saturday so I’ll have the day to myself. This provides me the opportunity to spend the day, if I chose, at the beach with LJ (she’s been whining about going there) and the last night on the hunt. Two very undomincan occurrences nearly serve to derail this and make my last weekend miserable.


Back to the start

T and I are sitting at Aquaceros munching on chicken wings and sharing a grande when K and a friend she introduces a Yeimy take their seats. Yeimy though not beautiful is attractive enough. She has a small face with an equine nose that seems to start in the middle of her forehead. Her eyes are small and are somewhat sunken with prominent orbits. Her hair is pulled back in a bun. She’s about 5’6” with long shapely thin legs. My eyes lock onto her most prominent features which are melon sized breasts that have the buttons of her blouse under stress. The problem with meeting chicas at Aquaceros is that you almost always end up feeding them The staff descends on the table too quickly to waive off and before you know it the chica you would really not like to feed is ordering a meal. This time was no exception. We sit there shooting the breeze waiting on the food to arrive. All the while there is a clock ticking in my head. While I have decided not to take advantage of C’s offer I would like to see her for old times sake and treat her to a meal. I have no doubt that with her being 5 months pregnant she will appreciate the opportunity to satisfy what ever strange food craving has afflicted her. Yeimy finishes her meal then finally K decides to give up on the three quarters of her food that remains. We pay and depart for the cabana.

Cabana 101

For those of you who don’t know what a cabana is think of it as a motel with an attached garage. You roll in your car, taxi, autobus, moto etc. and close the garage door. They range from serviceable to faux attempts to replicate, such as Helios in STI, grand hotel rooms. You rent them in 4 hour blocks. The one I use in POP is Sensacions. There are two types of rooms there standard and executiva. The cost with una grande (I’ve never rented one without the beer so I have no idea what the base cost is. For me in the DR sex and Presidente go hand in hand) is 320 pesos for the standard room and 460 for the executiva. A few days earlier I had used an standard room to fulfill a misguided urge for nostalgia after playfully aducting a ex from the company of her startled sister. Both the room and the experience were unsatisfying and at the end I wanted my money back from all parties. The girls of course want to go to the executiva. T takes K over to the next unit. Yeimy enters ours. Note it is good manners and earns you brownie points, that you may be able to cash in later, to ask your guest if the room is acceptable to her. The difference between the standard room and the upgraded one is in size and toys to play with. The larger room has a sunken heart shape tub and there is usually a sex chair for you more adventurous types. In both types of rooms there is a TV with the requisite porn channel, aire (air conditioning), abanica (ceiling fan), and of course luz (lights). About 5 minutes after you close the garage door you are contacted via the internal telephone and asked how long you’ll be staying and if you want anything to drink. 5 to 10 minutes after that you will hear a buzzer. At this point you are expected to pay for both the room and the drink order. All business is conducted anonymously through a turnstile type box that is contained in the outside facing wall. Now you are ready to go.

Yeimy walks to the bed and starts to undress. Every piece of clothing she discards seems to reveal another flawless body part. When she is fully undressed I look at her in wonder. She has a small three inch caesarean scar that is hardly a scar at all. Other than that her copper skin is unblemished. Her legs are more shapely than I had thought and her ass though not big is high and tight. The most amazing sight are the firm 32C breasts.


Bras 101

To fully appreciate the size of Yeimy’s breast it is best that you view them from the standpoint of her bra size. Bra size is determined first by the circumference of the chest measured without taking into consideration the breasts. The next measurement is cup size. This is the amount of volume required to cover the breast itself. Cup sizes are consistent. and usually track circumference because larger women typically have the mass to produce larger breasts. What this all means is that a woman who measures 36 C has roughly the same breast size as a woman who is a 32 C. However, from a pure appearance standpoint the breasts of the woman who measures 32C will look much larger than one who measures 36C because there is less room across the chest for them to occupy. In other words 32Cs are some pretty big titties.


Spurred on by the sight of that body I decide to fill the tub. We spend about 15 minutes enjoying the water then head to the bed. Using lingo from this site I can provide her with the highest compliment, she put her back and then someone else’s back into it. We go at it past the point where K starts to ring Yeimy’s cell claiming she needs to go to school. We go at it pass the point where I should be in Sosua catering to C’s cravings. Shit we go where no other chica had gone so far that trip. Her performance deserves a propina on top of the agreed amount, but I decide against it. There is no doubt I want to see her again so why should I raise her expectations and essentially lock myself into a higher price. I decide that my chance of seeing her again will have to rest on the fact that she enjoyed our time together as much as I did. I suffer through the hand smacked against the elbow gesture that is used to indicate cheapness, but two days later she calls and wants to hook up. Unfortunately I was packed, ready to go and waiting on the wife to arrive.

[Ram]

Bra size is determined first by the circumference of the chest measured without taking into consideration the breast. The next measurement is cup size. This is the amount of volume required to cover the breast itself. Cup sizes are consistent. and usually track circumference because larger women typically have the mass to produce larger breasts. What this all means is that woman who measures a 36 C has roughly the same breast size as a woman who is a 32 C. However, from a pure appearance standpoint the breast of the woman who measures 32C will look much larger than one who measures 36C because there is less room across the chest for them to occupy. In other words 32C are some pretty big titties.

Man is that funny!!! Bra and Physics/Optics lessons...only on ISOC!!

Thanks for the wonderful reading!!

[gdogg]

Sage, thanks for posting your report. True newbies can learn from you. You've been to the DR more than anybody, so your stories are trustworthy. I appreciate you telling the truth about your trips.

[Mister NYC]

The Sage: Reading and re-reading all of this helps me some as I look into my future handling of things. This is what story telling should be all about - helping one another in an indirect way.

Thanks for sharing.


P.s. I can't wait to read about how you introduced yourself to the 5 month old.

[DEPUTY DAWG]

Man is that funny!!! Bra and Physics/Optics lessons...only on ISOC!!

Thanks for the wonderful reading!!

Sage, thanks for posting your report. True newbies can learn from you. You've been to the DR more than anybody, so your stories are trustworthy. I appreciate you telling the truth about your trips.

[quote=MISTER NYC;227399]The Sage: Reading and re-reading all of this helps me some as I look into my future handling of things. This is what story telling should be all about - helping one another in an indirect way.

Thanks for sharing.
quote]

Everything they said and especially Mr. NYC!!!!!!!!! I love when a veteran tell truth about the good and bad

[The Sage]

Friday continued………

T and I drop the girls off on the main road headed towards Sosua about a ½ mile from the cabanas. I then turn off and take the Melocon detour I’ve been using for the last 4 months. During that time the main road has been undergoing some type of construction the focus of which is not immediately obvious nor has it become obvious, at least to me, during the four months it’s been taking place. When the first deep ditches appeared I deemed the road and the erratic driving necessary to take advantage of the usable portions far too dangerous to submit my wellbeing to. We complete the loop through the Melocon and make the turn at Crystals to rejoin the main road. I really would like to try to salvage my reputation with C and as such am anxious to return to Sosua. A few hundred feet up from Crystals we encounter a massive traffic jam. I can only conclude repaving of the road between Playa Dorado and the entrance to POP to be the cause since on the way in we had encountered newly laid asphalt and the work crews applying it. For several days I had been breaking to avoid driving roughly over several shallow troughs that had been cut in what previous was one of the better paved roads in the area. Even more so than the work further into the city there seemed no apparent benefit to be derived from them. It was almost as if some idiot bureaucrat had decided that a series of speed bumps were needed and the work had began before some less idiotic individual managed to convince them this might not be the best place to put into action the fruit of a mismanaged imagination. Now things were being put back in order and we were stuck. It takes us 10 minutes to go the hundred yards from the intersection of the Crystal’s turn off and the center of the round-about before the main road enters POP. I decide I don’t have the patience or the courage to be stuck with errant Dominican drivers in this type of traffic, give up on C, take the next turn and head to Crystals.

For those of you who don’t know there is more to Crystals than just the night club. The area between the club proper and the corner is actually setup for outdoor entertainment. It consists of a pool, bar, band area, hair salon, banos, showers, sauna, “relaxation rooms”, and a fairly large eating area. I believe it opens every day at 2:00 and stays open until the indoor area opens for business around 9:00. It appears when the owner put the idea on paper he was channeling a brazilian vibe. The setting, similar in kind to the faux attempts to replicate grand hotel rooms made by some cabanas, is a weak imitation of a terma. The problem as I see it is in the execution. Both the house and the few girls that are present attempt to conduct business within the night time price structure. Because most customers realize this to be a ripoff the place has never really caught on. It’s good for an afternoon drink during the happy hour that takes place from 5:30 to 6:30 every day of the work week, except Tuesday, but other than that it is a waste of time. The girls present are typically the ones that live on site and without the makeup and the cloak of darkness aren’t very attractive. I had gotten lucky two days prior and was able to pick up quite the cutie who was headed in to start work early in the main club due to the new liquor sales hours. I swooped her up and was out of there before she had time to unpack her bag. What started out good ended in mild disappointment when I first found out she was a tea totter (this was the first domincana I had encountered in all my trips that did not drink) and then that we were physically incompatible. The only good thing was I did not pay up front and thus was able to work out an early release deal at a reduced price.

T and I chill for an hour chatting with an endless stream of unattractive chicas vying for an early payday. While there at the bar I get a call from LJ. Earlier in the week she had claimed she would be able to simply go to the local government office and get a copy of her cedula. I had told her that was impossible to do here in the states and I had serious doubts that it was possible to do there. Well according to her she had done just this (undominican occurrence number 1) and would be in Sosua in the morning. Though it was on my agenda to see her the next day I had planned on determining the time and place and meeting her long after the wife had left to pick up the baby. Now I had a problem. Trying to regain some small amount of control I tell her not to leave home before talking to me. The proverbial snowball had more of a chance to survive the inferno than I did of her following my instructions.

Soon after T and my arrival in Sosua the wife calls. She reads me the riot act about choosing not to attend her English school promotion ceremonies that evening. I calm her down by agreeing to arrive for the final 30 minutes (yeah right I have no intention of going). Afterward we will go to dinner and then dancing at Mangus as I had promised the day before. Knowing I got trouble brewing I ask her what time she needs to leave to pick up the baby tomorrow. She surprises me when she says that won’t be a problem since poppa has agreed to keep the child until Monday (undomincan occurrence number 2). Now I really got problems.

[Rubicon]

Friday continued………

T and I drop the girls off on the main road headed towards Sosua about a ½ mile from the cabanas. I then turn off and take the Melocon detour I’ve been using for the last 4 months. During that time the main road has been undergoing some type of construction the focus of which is not immediately obvious nor has it become obvious, at least to me, during the four months it’s been taking place. When the first deep ditches appeared I deemed the road and the erratic driving necessary to take advantage of the usable portions far too dangerous to submit my wellbeing to. We complete the loop through the Melocon and make the turn at Crystals to rejoin the main road. I really would like to try to salvage my reputation with C and as such am anxious to return to Sosua. A few hundred feet up from Crystals we encounter a massive traffic jam. I can only conclude repaving of the road between Playa Dorado and the entrance to POP to be the cause since on the way in we had encountered newly laid asphalt and the work crews applying it. For several days I had been breaking to avoid driving roughly over several shallow troughs that had been cut in what previous was one of the better paved roads in the area. Even more so than the work further into the city there seemed no apparent benefit to be derived from them. It was almost as if some idiot bureaucrat had decided that a series of speed bumps were needed and the work had began before some less idiotic individual managed to convince them this might not be the best place to put into action the fruit of a mismanaged imagination. Now things were being put back in order and we were stuck. It takes us 10 minutes to go the hundred yards from the intersection of the Crystal’s turn off and the center of the round-about before the main road enters POP. I decide I don’t have the patience or the courage to be stuck with errant Dominican drivers in this type of traffic, give up on C, take the next turn and head to Crystals.

For those of you who don’t know there is more to Crystals than just the night club. The area between the club proper and the corner is actually setup for outdoor entertainment. It consists of a pool, bar, band area, hair salon, banos, showers, sauna, “relaxation rooms”, and a fairly large eating area. I believe it opens every day at 2:00 and stays open until the indoor area opens for business around 9:00. It appears when the owner put the idea on paper he was channeling a brazilian vibe. The setting, similar in kind to the faux attempts to replicate grand hotel rooms made by some cabanas, is a weak imitation of a terma. The problem as I see it is in the execution. Both the house and the few girls that are present attempt to conduct business within the night time price structure. Because most customers realize this to be a ripoff the place has never really caught on. It’s good for an afternoon drink during the happy hour that takes place from 5:30 to 6:30 every day of the work week, except Tuesday, but other than that it is a waste of time. The girls present are typically the ones that live on site and without the makeup and the cloak of darkness aren’t very attractive. I had gotten lucky two days prior and was able to pick up quite the cutie who was headed in to start work early in the main club due to the new liquor sales hours. I swooped her up and was out of there before she had time to unpack her bag. What started out good ended in mild disappointment when I first found out she was a tea totter (this was the first domincana I had encountered in all my trips that did not drink) and then that we were physically incompatible. The only good thing was I did not pay up front and thus was able to work out an early release deal at a reduced price.

T and I chill for an hour chatting with an endless stream of unattractive chicas vying for an early payday. While there at the bar I get a call from LJ. Earlier in the week she had claimed she would be able to simply go to the local government office and get a copy of her cedula. I had told her that was impossible to do here in the states and I had serious doubts that it was possible to do there. Well according to her she had done just this (undominican occurrence number 1) and would be in Sosua in the morning. Though it was on my agenda to see her the next day I had planned on determining the time and place and meeting her long after the wife had left to pick up the baby. Now I had a problem. Trying to regain some small amount of control I tell her not to leave home before talking to me. The proverbial snowball had more of a chance to survive the inferno than I did of her following my instructions.

Soon after T and my arrival in Sosua the wife calls. She reads me the riot act about choosing not to attend her English school promotion ceremonies that evening. I calm her down by agreeing to arrive for the final 30 minutes (yeah right I have no intention of going). Afterward we will go to dinner and then dancing at Mangus as I had promised the day before. Knowing I got trouble brewing I ask her what time she needs to leave to pick up the baby tomorrow. She surprises me when she says that won’t be a problem since poppa has agreed to keep the child until Monday (undomincan occurrence number 2). Now I really got problems.

Damn, and I tought I was the only one.

[Kevy]

Interesting stories, good to see you again.

[The Sage]

Friday night………

I love STI, a non-descript city located 60 or so miles inland from Sosua that serves as the commercial center for the northern part of the country, not for the airport (talk about inconvenient), nor the world class beauties (who you have as much chance of possessing as the fine porcelain statuettes housed in glass enclosures in upper crust department stores), no, what I love about STI is that it is the perfect pre-event alibi to give your non-Sosua based chica. Where as news of an impending visit to the Capital will result in a request to tag along, or that not being possible, for souvenirs, or a description of your time there upon your return (deflecting all of this will just add precarious weight to the house of cards you’re maintaining so it’s best to only alibi the Capital after the fact); notice of a visit to STI is usually met with a shrug (she can’t understand why anyone who is not visiting family or friends would go to STI) and, if she is into you, some visible sign of disappointment. Needing to make room in the schedule for LJs visit tomorrow night I decide to tell the wife that T and I are headed to STI for the last night of my vacation. Weak, but it’s all I got.

I leave for POP with the intention of arriving at about 9:15 and thus avoiding my commitment to attend the ceremonies. T is tagging along. The wife has instructed me to meet her at a local landmark, which I know of, which is near the school. Repeatedly she has attempted to provide more precise directions by telling me it is near the hospital, but we can never come to terms with where the hospital is so this second location has had to do. I give her a call and wait to be dragged into a place I don’t want to go.

I’ve known about the promotion ceremonies for at least 3 weeks. She had mentioned it during one of our frequent conversations. She was to receive an award for her accomplishments in her English studies. It was good to know that the 300 pesos a month I was paying for the class had resulted in something, but since up to this point she had demonstrated limited proficiency with the language I could not imagine what that might have been. The cost to participate was 1,000 pesos which she did not have and I was unwilling wire. She and I have agreed that she must live within her budget. She receives money once a month and that’s it. With no way to pay for the ceremony by the due date we agreed she would not attend. That was the last I heard of it until while wordlessly recovering amidst a sea of post-coital bliss during our first day together she broke the silence by saying she had something to ask me, but she wasn’t sure if she should. Being drained and totally at peace (I had not had sex between this and the last trip) I did not push for her to fess up. Two days later I find out the question. She had arranged with the school to delay payment of the fees for the ceremony and now wanted to know if I was willing to give her the money. Based on her new found ability to speak pretty decent English, and to a lesser degree the knowledge that I was about to embark on two day sexcapade with LV, I gave her the money without hesitation. Briefly I considered attending the entire event, but decided I did not want to go down the road that might lead to. Next I’d be eating dinner at her sister’s house and meeting her mother. Neither of which I had any intention of doing.

She climbs into the truck about 9:30. Thankfully the ceremony has ended and my presence is not needed. She’s wearing a snappy looking light blue polo with the name of the English school embroidered on it. She has visited the salon and her hair is looking better than it has all trip. In a nutshell she is looking sharp and sexy. I playfully grab at what I refer to as my mil peso comiseta (t-shirt). She jumps just out of range, shrieks and protectively pulls it closer to her body. We all get a laugh out of this. She needs to change her clothes and suggests that we all head to the restaurant. She will moto home to change her clothes and return prepared for the evening. Twenty minutes later she arrives looking much too delectable for this old man, but the rules that apply at home do not apply here so I quickly excise the thought from my mind. During dinner I break the bad news to her. T and I will be going to STI for my last night. She shrugs and a small wave of disappointment passes over her face then she goes back to eating. Later she complains, but what is she to do it’s obvious by the finality of my announcement that she does not have any options.

[The Sage]

Friday night continued………

We leave the restaurant and head to Mangu’s. On the way we pass Long Beach and I point out to the wife the absence of the structures that previously stood there. She looks in shocked surprised for all of 10 seconds then starts applauding. I can only conclude the place will not be missed by the locals.

The Politur officer at the entry check point to Playa Dorado thoroughly scrutinizes all occupants of our vehicle and pays particular attention to the back seat area as if looking for stowaways. This is not far from the truth because in an effort to circumvent the policy that seeks to limit working girls in the resort’s clubs many unescorted chicks enter with gringos or men they do not know. On our way there we saw two women standing along side the man road dressed for a night on the town. I suspect they were waiting there on the chance they could find someone to help them enter the resort.

Playa Dorado Clubs

There are three clubs and a casino in the resort that are open to non AI guests. They are Mangu’s, which is currently the most popular dancing spot, The Roadway, which is a bar with a limited dancing area, and Hemingway’s, which before Mangu’s was the most frequented location, Obviously these are not places, such has Classico’s, where you can easily pick up working girls. However, though it is not completely obvious a number of the girls present are working and many of the POP casa girls moonlight here. The trouble is that many normal POP girls also hang out her so you could get your ass in trouble. My advise is to always take it slow and simply behave as if you were in a club in the states where the woman are very easy to approach.

Mangu’s is a circular room roughly the size of Classico’s. The dance floor is a straight ended raised oblong with the DJ booth and area reserved for the house dancers housed on the straight portion of the space. There are two bars and the drinking/mingling areas are laid out in a horse shoe like area with the dance floor roughly in the center. When we arrive the place is slowly filling up. There are some fine examples of POP young womanhood present. This is in sharp contrast to the talent that has been available in Claissco’s over the last 7 days. The place has been a wasteland primarily populated by lumps of coal that no amount of pressure, even if supernaturally applied for a thousand years, could have transformed into anything other than a shape altered version of the lump of coal you started with. To put it in more practical terms, the talent was so abysmal that no amount of alcohol would have transformed her into anything more, in your mind or imagination, than the unattractive woman you started with. Basically if you missed out on the top 10 the smart choice was to sleep alone.

The wife is determined to have a good time. She loves to dance and it’s obvious from watching her she has seen far too many videos. She can do all the moves and relishes in her ability to do so. I’m a good dancer so I have no problem keeping up, but only have 75% of her enthusiasm. Typically by the time she’s ready to end a set, which can be 45 minutes or more after we started, I have danced 25% more than I wanted to. We head back to the spot we’ve been chilling in and T has taken a liking to a morena flaca with long black natural hair. After about and hour T has cut a deal and is ready to depart. The wife and I are not objecting because the music is not particularly good and the drinks expensive. She’s ready to head to Classico’s for tequila and better tunes. The desire for shooters represents a new wrinkle in her personality. Over the course of this trip she’s been rapidly maturing. She’s cursing (she wants a razr and it seems like everyone we encounter, including yours truly has one, she finally blurts out “everybody has that fuckin phone”) and is insisting that I take what she says and what she feels seriously. This is quite a change and it all seems to be tied to her newfound language skills as if confidence in this area has allowed her to feel far more comfortable and courageous with me than she had in the past. I’m liking it, but have some trepidation as to where this will lead.

It’s time to go and we got a problem. T’s catch does not have her cedula. She attempts to borrow one from her amiga then decides she looks too little like the picture for it to work. She needs to go to her house. I have no desire to do this. Remember we are on accelerated time. Its 12:15 and the clubs are closing at 2:00. T convinces me she lives close and off we go. It’s the wife’s job to get us there. The wife gives me the name of, to me some unknown part of POP. I tell her I don’t know where that is. She replies, “Yes you do and you were there before”. I go “que”. She says “it is the barrio of your friend J’s girlfriend. We went there to pick her up”. A small wave of sadness washes over me. The woman she was referring to is the deceased novia, of one of my amigos, who had been killed in an auto accident some months before. The wife, he, I, she, and MisterNYC had all gone out to dinner together at the Playa Dorado buffet. The novia who didn’t carry much weight had eaten the most food out of the five of us. The wife laughing at the memory shares this as we make a right turn cross the bridge and head into the barrio.

Driving like I was doing laps at Indy (luckily the main road was pretty much deserted) I manage to get us to Sosua 20 minutes before 2:00 am. Our guest wants no part of Classico’s which she views as being below her status so the wife and I head in alone for our tequila. We dance about 15 minutes and then along with everyone else in the club are instructed to depart. We descend the stairs into a large group of former partiers. No one seems to have figured out this early closing thing. There are far too many unmatched chicas and touristos. It’s like everyone was so focused on getting their party on that they forgot to fulfill the primary purpose. We’re just standing there enjoying the evening air and each other when the host of the after-hours spot starts rounding up folks and providing directions. Understand while he’s doing this there are both Politur and army personal trying to clear the street. I suspect this does not bode well for the success of tonight’s event, but hey I got a good buss going, I'm really enjoying the wife’s company, so what the fuck. I ask her if she’s willing and with a big smile she replies in English “where you go I go”.

We drive up the long hill and arrive at the spot. There’s not as many cars so I’m thinking slow night. Once inside though there are about 30 people. Surprising most are women none of which come anywhere close to approaching the wife’s beauty or apparent refinement. I’m feeling real good about this. Tonight they have dispensed with the wrist bands and name taking and are simply serendipitously serving drinks. I’m feeling adventurous so I ask for an anejo and OJ. No OJ, but I can have hugo de pina. Talk about some good shit. It’s a cool and cloudless night and the wife and I are chatting and enjoying each others company. That bar in the middle of the extremely large pool makes for one hell of a romantic setting. All the time we’re there, thinking back to the scene in front of Classico’s, I’m kidding the wife that we should not linger because Politur might show up. I say this as we’re drinking the second drink and prior to buying the third. Though I’m making a joke out of it there is some danger to being caught in the place. I have read and heard reports of both customers and ownership being carted off to jail for consuming/selling alcohol pass the allowed hours. Halfway through the third drink I look across the bridge and spot three Politur officers entering the pool area. There’s no time to hesitate. We quickly finish our drink and walk across the bridge, past Politur, and off that fucking hill as fast as we could without breaking into a sprint. We both get quite a laugh out of it go back to the apartment and fall right to sleep. An evening that started out with a lot of uncertainty has just gone into the books as one of the more enjoyable times I have had in the DR.

[The Sage]

Saturday morning to early evening

I wake in the morning with a whole lot of shit going on in my head. The beautiful young woman in my arms only complicates matters. Last night’s euphoria is gone. I’m feeling in equal parts (which can be interpreted as couldn’t decide which emotion predominated) guilty, anxious, depressed, and horny. I know I got a shitty job ahead of me and I have no idea how much time I have to do it in. My phone is on the kitchen counter and I got both ears open fearing that it will ring. The miniture bulldozer is on her way. She might be easy going to the point of appearing undisciplined, but as she has proven in the past when LJ is on a mission she is capable of incredible feats. The first trip I met her she wanted to spend the last day with me. She was in STI and the night before had promised to be at the apartment by 10:00. She arrived at 10:30. So based on our history she could show up at anytime. Yes, I had told her to call before she left, but remember the snowball it was ice solid and I was the one sweating.

The wife stirs on my shoulder. I’m way conflicted should we make love or should I simply rouse her, head to breakfast, and put her into a carrita soon there after. I check my watch it’s 9:00 am. I decide to take the plunge and cross my fingers. Making love to the wife is one of those activities that it seems I can enjoy even when I at first thought I did not want to do it. Five minutes in and there’s a little voice in my head berating me for even thinking this was something I wouldn’t enjoy. We finally untangle about 10:10. I’m way nervous now. The last thing I want is to receive a call from LJ telling me she is at La Bomba. Since the session with the wife had been uninterrupted by the harsh ring of my razr I’m thinking just maybe LJ had heeded my instructions. Just to make sure I walk out into the kitchen to check the phone. There are two messages. The first is from the wife and was received last night while I was in transit to POP. The second is from LJ. The time stamp is 10:00 am and the message is “I just got on the bus. I’ll be there soon”. I check the time read out it’s now 10:30. I figure at worst I got an hour at best an hour and a half. Of course this depends on the point in the journey she made the call. I’m committed to being collected. I don’t want to set off the wife’s suspicions. An hour later after what seemed like an eternity I’m giving her a hug promising to see her tomorrow before I leave and starting to generate a whisper of the guiltiness that would sweep over me completely by the beginning of the next day.

I get a call from LJ about 11:45 she’s in POP and will be in Sosua in a half hour. T and I hook up and head to Scott’s place for breakfast. I had stopped in for the first time a couple of nights back primarily to give my old friend Dominik a bad time. I was impressed with the décor and the availability of a couple of laptops for web surfing. The connection speed was one of the best I had found in Sosua. We sit down and shoot the breeze with some cats that were down from NYC (more on these guys later). Breakfast was good, but still far from the quality I’m accustomed to here at home (nobody seems to be able to get breakfast right in this town the closest thing I experienced to what I consider a real breakfast was during Jimmy’s brief management of the old Shark Bar). LJ calls and I head to La Bomba (this is the gasoline station near the Sosua police offices) to pick her up. She’s looking fine as usual. She’s carrying her phone and doesn’t have a bag. It’s obvious she won’t be spending the night. Something about her demeanor indicates to me something is wrong. It also carries the message that I won’t be getting laid today. On another day this would not have been a big deal, but today I had been forced to hurt the wife’s feelings and I’m technically in STI so I’ll have to go it alone tonight and I’ve make not alternate plans (I know, I know this was the original plan, but recent circumstances had put me in the mood to spend the last night with someone I had a connection to), I ask why no bag? She explains that she can’t spend the night because she has to got to the Capital tomorrow (no, I neither want to tag along or a souvenir) to meet with the mother of her baby’s father (let’s just call her mother in law) to discuss custody arrangement. I know more about LJ then any other DR chica because we can communicate in the same language. What I did know was that the mother in law basically wanted to steal her grandson from LJ and was trying very hard to accomplish this. One day a couple of months ago I had called and she was crying hysterically after one such run-in. It had taken me over a half hour to calm her down and while no longer crying she was still distraught the next day. What was news to me was that the mother-in-law lived in the Capital and not STI as I had assumed. This small misunderstanding set off the trust alarms throwing into doubt the truthfulness of what I had just heard and eventually led to hurt feelings for the both of us by the end of the afternoon.

We head back to Scott’s place where I had left my breakfast and the la quinta in the care of T. LJ proceeds to dazzle T with her trash talk and all the guys in the restaurant with her beauty. She gets a little testy at a couple of things I say that she would normally take as a joke. She refuses, until I practically beg her, to sit on my leg which is something I like her to do. We finish breakfast say good bye to T and head for the farmacia. LJ has not been feeling well and has 3 prescriptions to be filled. She had warned me yesterday of her expectation that I would be paying for them. While waiting for service I ask her to please tell me again why I’m paying for her medicines. She replies “because you’re the one fucking me”. I don’t know about you guys, but I find this kind of shit endearing. I can’t argue with that logic so I pony up the 1,200 pesos and we head to the apartment.

Knowing I’m not getting laid I suggest we watch a movie. I chose and we proceed to watch “City of God” which is to me what “Scarface” is to a lot of folks. I just love how the story is told, the editing is absolutely fabulous, and the cinematography outstanding. I completely enjoy the transformation of Benny from murderous hood into tragic folk hero. LJ keeps pointing at scenes in the fevala saying that’s here, that’s here. The movie serves as the perfect distraction and we spend a couple of hours cuddled up enjoying it. Afterwards I carry her into the bedroom. I know I’m not getting laid, but have no plans of allowing that to keep us from being intimate. We’re lying there clothed enjoying each others touch when she says “you know what I want tonight”. "What?”. "Pizza” “No problem I’ll order it”. “I don’t what that kind of pizza. I want Pizza Hut”. ‘The only Pizza Hut I know of is in STI”. “No, there’s one in Playa Dorado”. “I’m not driving to Playa Dorado when I can go right over to Albertos and buy a perfectly good pizza”. “I don’t want that. I want Pizza Hut”. I think you see where this is going, two people unwilling to compromise. She gets pissed I get pissed. She says she’s going home. I don’t give a damn because I think she’s being unreasonable. Next thing I know I’m shouting out of the truck window “call me when you want to talk” as she sashays that fine ass off to the carrita.

I end up at Ary’s beach stand downing grandes and thinking of what a fool I am. I knew something was bothering her. It was 4:00 I could have easily and without much effort satisfied her craving. Shit we could have made an adventure out of it. The source of my failure to follow my instincts was the doubt that and been planted about the location of the mother-in-law. I didn’t trust her so I didn’t want to go out of my way for her. That is one of the most difficult aspects of having these LD relationships you just don’t see each other enough to convince yourself that on some level you are not getting played.

I check my phone and there’s a message from the wife. It basically says “Even though you tell me I don’t love you I know in my heart I do and it is not important want you think” For emphasis she’s added the emotional pictorials that I refer to as the “moto monsters”. I take full blame for this, not for her anguished message of love (the wife is an unashamed romantic so that is not unusual), but for providing her with the ability to unknowingly piss me off by sending me these ugly ass creatures. I can not stand these damn things. This trip I upgraded her phone from a no frills Nokia to low level moto with camera. Now I was paying for it.

T finds me moping at Ary’s. I don’t share exactly what transpired. I simply say LJ had gone home. He was already aware she was not staying based on our interaction of earlier so this is no surprise to him. We have lunch and talk until the restaurant is closing for the day. T suggests we go cruise Charomicos. Having nothing to do I agree.

Charomicos is the barrio on the far end of Sousa Beach. Cruising through Charomicos consists of navigating 5 or six narrow streets. You would think there would be not much to see, but these streets represent the centro or downtown area of the barrio and they are often teeming with people. Many of the chicks that work Classico’s or will soon work Classico’s live her so there are usually some honies walking about that you can bullshit with or about. We’re making our second revolution when we spot this fine chica wearing an orange dress. Ella has legs, ass, and tits with a body that leans just a tad bit on the voluptuous side. Baby is sexy as hell. Hey something seems familiar here. I take a double take. Who is it, but a former beach bartender turned fulltime student that I’ve been trying to get next to for months. I’ve traded a few timed delayed emails (you send it today she responds a week later) with this chick. She’s proving one damn difficult nut to crack, but I’m hoping at some point to at least be able to take her dancing. She knew I would be in town, but up until this accidental discovery I had not heard a peep from her. I hop out of the truck we shoot the breeze for about 10 minutes. All the while T is almost breaking his neck trying to get a good look from the car. I try to convince her to be my guest tonight in the disco. She says she will try to show up, but won’t commit. I know this is a very long shot and don't expect her to show. However, this brings home how every moment here is an oppurtunity for another discovery. With this in mind I am again a happy man (I love this fucking country). T and I do a couple of more circuits then head to Passions.

[The Sage]

Saturday night……

We arrive at Passions and the spot is strangely empty. There’s one chica in the front bar area and she seems to be heading towards the back of the establishment. Seeing us exit the truck she stops. As we approach the bar she says “chicas bailar” and points to the back. We follow her through two double doors that open onto…..a fucking party. There’s a bar in the middle of the enclosure and on the bar there’s one of the masseuses dancing in a bikini. Around the bar is Pete 5 other masseuses a group of 4 gringas and one European type guy whopping it up. The music is going and everybody is having a grand time. I am suddenly filled with joy and think “only in the fuckin DR is this kind of shit possible” I take a seat in a chair that is actually a swing. By now I am ecstatic. Monica is there, but she's trying very hard not to look my way. Elisabeth, who I had spent some time with earlier in the week, claims me as she has on the last several occasions I’ve stopped by. She’s giving me a hard time about Monica. Insisting that she was my girlfriend and pointing in her direction. I’m distracted. One of the gringas is a fine ass blonde that I would have gladly volunteered to skanktify. While Elisabeth is chattering away I’m trying to make eye contact. Unsuccessful I turn and look in Monica’s direction and she finally acknowledges my presence. Monica bears a very close resemblance to one of my exes, with two distinct differences. She has the long thick hair my ex would have killed to have and 38 inch hips that my ex would have never accepted. She comes over and stands next to me. By this time I had traded in the swing, which had a little too much movement for me, for a regular bar stool. I’m trying to convince Monica to dance so that I can see the full glory of that wonderful bod. She begs off claiming she doesn’t have on the right underclothes.

That Monica has one kid is something you would never know from looking at her. She has medium sized fairly firm breasts, a slightly rounded smooth stomach (I’m talking muy sexy) with a piece of jewelry that dangles from the belly button, and a bunda that would make Knotty proud. Her physique is such that if you posted a pic of her on the Brazil board everyone would talk about what a fine example of Brazilian womanhood she was. She is the only Passions girl with whom I had ever utilized the onsite facility and I was about to do it again. I just had one small problem; I didn’t have enough deniro to cover the cost. I tell her I’ll be back and to wait for my return. Fifteen minutes later no Monica. I had caught a glimpse of one of the NYC guys heading into the back with another masseuse (I was impressed they were not there when I left so they had moved awful damn quickly) and correctly concluded the same thing had happened to M. By this time I’m all worked up and do the unthinkable. I wait for my turn. I kill the time drinking with Elisabeth and the crew. They are getting a big kick out of the term “mahuna mojado” which they are using as a reference to intercourse. It just served as another indication that a lot of these girls watch way to many cartoons. Monica finally resurfaces and we spend a very enjoyable hour together. I try to convince her to stop by the apartment later on for TLN, but she refuses.

An example of what I love about the DR

I get back to the apartment as I’m approaching the gate I catch the night shift bar keep smiling at me. She’s petite and fairly attractive. She’s holding a grande so I ask for a drink. She says it’s for Jose, the night watchman, but I can have some. She pours me a small plastic cup full and we exchange names. I ask if she has a novio. She response why? You have many novias. I have seen them visit. I simply reply, claro but, do you have a novio. She says she does. I ask if she is happy. She replies, yes. I say esta bien when is the wedding. She replies in five months. I respond bueno, but I want you to promise me something. If when I return in 2 months you are not to be married in 3 months you will go to the disco with me. She replies with a big smile, si no problema. Later when leaving for the disco I stop in and ask does she want a drink. She says, si una Presidente and is beaming a smile that seems to indicate this was the best thing that happened to her today. I’m telling you I can never get enough of this place.

Classico’s Saturday night………

I get to Classico’s about 11:00 the place is starting to fill up. For the first time all week the quality is fairly good. I’m looking for T thinking he should see this, but he’s no where to be found. I have two shots of tequila. In spite of my time with Monica I’m still a little bummed about both the wife and LJ. Outside of the one instance with LV I’ve not been drunk this trip which to be honest is quite unusual. I decide that tonight might be a good time to overindulge. I’ve taken a high perch overlooking the dance floor. I'm chilling and taking in the sights. I circle the club talking to compenaras and uncover a tantalizing bit of information. I’m told by her sister that one of my favorites and probably the finest chica I ever pulled out of Classico's has quit her dancing gig and is now occasionally working here. I always find it hilarious how some of these girls view what they do in Classico’s as a legitimate job. Sis assures me that I won’t see her tonight so I file the information for use during my next visit. I make the circuit a couple of more times and who do I see giving me a big smile, but an ex I thought might never again share my bed. I’ve known her for a couple of years and from time to time she gets pissed at me and we don’t talk until she decides we can again. I had called her earlier the trip just because I have her number. We are officially not talking so I’m sort of pushing the envelope in doing so. I trying to stay in touch because like the wife we register 95% on the sexual compatibility scale. Our current problem stems from two nights we spent together on a gratis basis where at the end of that trip she sought compensation via a contribution for medicines and a doctor’s visit for grippe. I refused (she has a husband that would easily pay for this) and she swore never to talk to me again. Well now she’s smiling and giggling at me as she always does when she’s horny and it is good to know that the next time her husband is out of town she more than likely will pay me a visit. I decide to hang with her and her group of friends dancing and drinking. About 1:45 I look up and Mildred is standing in front of our group staring at me.

I’ve known of Mildred since she came to work at the original Passions location two years ago. I always thought she was the sexiest 4’10” woman (if she’s that tall) I had ever seen. However, I dispatched any thoughts of being with her because I feared we were physically incompatible. My opinion on this matter started to change as I read accolade after accolade of her performance here on this board. It got to the point where my very small perversion streak, that usually lies dormant, was awakened and transformed into a small voice that kept telling me to recruit her for debauchery. I had been after her for the entire trip. Every time I saw her I would attempt to spirit her away. As of then she had deftly avoided my clutches. Earlier in the evening I again made my desires apparent and she had sprinted away laughing. She obviously had decided now was the time to talk price. I slipped away and joined her and her crew on the bench parked immediately at the entrance. We agree on a number that I know is way out of her league, but I’m flush with cash and the voice is by this time yelling in my head to close the deal. We agree on once when we arrive and once in the morning. I’m so excited I damn near throw her over my shoulder and sprint out of there Not soon after I’m utterly disappointed. Other than the unexpected large cesarean scar she’s one sexy little package and looks great doing what she tries to do, but as I feared from the beginning we are physically incompatible. There is no way she can finish what she started. I halt all activity lay her on my shoulder and tell her to go to sleep. I also tell her she will be getting a third of what we had agreed on because she had taken on a job she never had a hope of completing. There is one good thing I can say about her, she does sleep well. With her help I slept like a baby and generated plenty of energy to fuel the emotional reckoning I would be faced with in the morning.