Fic: Sidney and Patrice do Brasil 2/5
Dec. 18th, 2005 07:55 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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2minsforslashingAuthor: ~~~Angel~~~
Rating: NC-17
Paring: Crosby/Begeron
Dedication:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
starbucks2940!!! Thanks for the beta!
Disclaimer: This is based on real life events, however this is written from the fictitious point of view, all the characters feelings and thoughts are those of the authors, all persons, names and logos belong to there perspective copy rights or perspective persons. This author claims to own none of these and has used all names persons and logos without said permission. This is a work of fiction, and is ment as no harm or disregard towards included persons, names and logos. This work should be taken as a compliment
to all involved within.
A/N: This is my ELEVENTH Sidney fic in the [A Little Left Of Center Series].
If you want to read the pervious fics in this series go
AA/N: “Reais” are Brazilian currency. I tried to make Brazil clear, if anyone has a question about something I mention please just ask!! I’ll be happy to explain/maybe even share pics!
x: Posted to IHF, Rambles & my LJ!
Day 1- Friday Morning
“Are you sure you know where you’re going?” Patrice asks me for what seems like the hundredth time.
“I don’t have a fucking clue, BUT, we need reais, so I vote we go to the exchange and get some money and THEN we’ll figure out where the hell we are suppose to go!”
He sighs, “Fine.”
“If you have a better idea, then please share it,” I snap at him, as a long uncomfortable flight coupled with the oppressing heat has made me cranky.
“No” he kinda yells at me.
I stop dead in the middle of the large Sao Palo airport, “I’m sorry.”
“I am sorry too,” he sighs, “Now lets go find the exchange and then check our bags at Varig, and then find some food cause I am starving.” I nod and then we make our way to a bank of elevators, which takes us to the second floor, or what seems like the second floor and to the exchange. Thankfully they speak English and we are able to exchange our traveller’s checks with out a problem. I got them to give me some smaller bills in addition to the larger ones they gave me, what the heck and I going to do with a bunch of fifties? The exchange rate is crazy, like double and then some for every American dollar. I exchanged two hundred and fifty not wanting to be carrying around too much cash, while Patrice exchanged four hundred. Way to much money to have on my person.
We then get directions from the guy at the exchange as to were to check our big-ass bags and we make our way down there. The guy is really nice, and thankfully speaks English he tells us where our gate is to fly to Salvador. He also tells us where some places are to get food.
Patrice and I set off again and end up at MacDonald’s. As much as I hate it, I gave up and agreed to eat here because they had a menu in English, so I knew what the hell we were ordering. Lucky for us this time the person at the counter did NOT speak English but somehow we managed to get our point across and get some reasonably normal looking food.
After we eat, we make our way though security and to our gate. As we arrive there is a plane leaving for Salvador, after a moment of panic we realize it’s not out flight and we settle down in some uncomfortable chairs to wait.
I grab one of the mystery novels I packed and Patrice is reading some weird French book. After I read about ten pages he lets out a loud sigh and tosses his book down.
I glance up from my novel, “Something wrong?”
“It’s fucking hot.” he whines, and I nod in response. We changed into shorts and T-shirts and walking sandals on the plane in anticipation of the heat. Patrice really didn’t have a choice since he made a mess of his PJ pants. It felt like a brick wall hitting us when we walked off of the plane. Its like we walked right into an oven, and hello, we are Canadian boys, and we’re definitely not made for 30 degree weather PLUS humidity.
“We can shower when we get to the apartment.” I reply to him. This trip that Patrice booked us is a different one. Instead of staying in a hotel like normal tourists we get to stay in an apartment. There is an older couple who feed us and drive us and around and stuff. I’m excited to be in a place where no one knows me, or who I am; I’ll just be another English tourist. I can’t wait.
“Excuse Me,” a third voice says and Patrice and I turn to see a rather cute looking guy with blond hair standing there.
“Yes?” I reply.
“You wouldn’t happen to know if flight 2318 has left yet?” he looks kinda nervous.
“No it has not left yet, first board calling will be in about forty minutes.” Patrice responds.
He lets out a breath, “Oh thank God, I was afraid I missed it.”
“Nah, you didn’t miss it, we’re on that flight too.” He doesn’t seem to know who we are, so I feel comfortable talking to him.
He plops down in the seat next to mine, “Hey I’m Drew.”
“Hey” I reply, “I’m Sid and this is Patrice.” I tell him using a shortened form of my name. I don’t know why, it just felt right.
“Nice to meet you,” he gives us a million-watt-grin, “So what are you doing here in Brazil?”
I shrug, “Vacation.”
“Me too, so where ya from?”
“Canada.” Patrice replies.
“Oh WOW! I’m from San Francisco.”
“Have you always lived there?” Patrice asks.
“Nah, moved there when I was eighteen for the community.” he replies simply.
“Community…” Patrice starts “Oh,” he says, with the realization washing over his face.
Drew blushes and ducks his head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean too…” he lets his sentence hang and blushes an even darker shade of red.
I shrug, “It’s ok, we’re part of the ‘community’ too.”
“Oh,” Drew raises his head and grins at us, “So are you two together?”
“Yes.” Patrice states rather flatly. It actually made me kinda giddy, as though he was staking his claim on me. No, scratch that, it made me bloody hot.
“Too bad.” He replies simply.
“So… where are you staying?” I ask him, in an attempt to change the topic.
“The Barra Turismo Hotel, for a few days then a place in Praia do Forte.” He explains.
“Awesome, we’re going to stay a night in Praia do Forte, at this really nice bed-in breakfast.” Patrice tells him.
“Not the Hotel Porto Zarpa?” He asks.
“Uhh, yea, I think so.” Patrice replies.
He grins wildly at us, “Wicked cool, I’m staying there too!”
“Great! When?” I interject.
“I get there next Thursday and I’m staying until Sunday,” he explains.
“Bon.” Patrice says, “We are there on Thursday night also, then we return to Salvador, there is that large concert on Friday night, and then we leave Sunday morning.”
Drew’s eyes sparkle, “Too bad you weren’t there longer…”
I catch Patrice’s eye. I have to admit that I am very interested in Drew; maybe this trip will give us a chance to expand out boundaries a little bit. I mean that’s what this trip is all about.
“Flight 2318, Flight 2318 is now boarding” the mechanical voice fills the room. After repeating it in several different languages, both Patrice and I grab our stuff and get in-line for the last leg of our journey to Brazil.
**
Day 2- Saturday Morning
“Sidney.” I feel a something soft stroking my arm. “Sidney”
I open my eyes to find a squat middle-aged, woman stroking my arm. “Wake Sidney, wake.”
Moaning, I flip over onto my back. “I’m up.” I tell her with a sigh.
She smiles and makes a eating motion “Ok, I’ll be there in a minute.”
She nods and wanders away, shutting the door behind her. Groaning, I sit up. Stretching, and not expecting an answer, I ask outloud, “What time is it?”
“A few minutes after six.” I look towards the direction of the voice and see Patrice strolling towards me. He’s rubbing his hair with a towel. “Shower’s free.” He tells me as he plops himself down on the bed and grabs a pair of his underwear.
I stumble out of bed. After going to the bathroom and taking and ice shower, (they apparently DO NOT have hot water in Brazil, they don’t need it) I dress with just a pair of shorts and wander into the kitchen.
Patrice is sitting there with a large plate of toast and fruit in front of him. Sitting down I have the same placed in front of me along with a large glass of juice. Freshly squeeze orange juice from green oranges. Patrice and I had a long drawn out conversation as to why the oranges were green.
Why are they? Because most of the time oranges we get in Canada (and the USA too) are either biochemically engineered or they have been dyed the colour orange. Weird eh?
I take a sip of the juice. It tastes really good. The lady who woke me up was now handing me sugar. She was gesturing for me to pour the sugar in the glass. I add a little and stir it up. She frowns and then takes it from me, dumping a whole truckload of it in. Smiling I take another sip. It’s so sweet I almost want to make a face.
Patrice raises his eyebrows at me and tries to suppress a laugh. I retort by sticking my tongue out at him. He happened to be taking a drink at this exact time however and he snorted the orange juice out of his nose. Ow.
He scowls at me as he grabs a napkin. Laughing to myself I devour the toast and watermelon that had been place in front of me. After we had arrived last night they had fed us pizza. Not a good old pepperoni Pizza, no. They fed us a tuna pizza and salmon pizza. I have one word: GROSS. It was SO awful, but this toast and fruit isn’t bad.
It’s a weird way to make toast though; they don’t have a toaster or a microwave, or a dishwasher. They have a small ceramic sink and a tiny stove. The fridge is weird to say the least. It only opens at certain times, I’ve yet to figure it out. The butter the square bread and then place it on a griddle, hence making toast. Everything here is so different. Not that I’m really complaining though.
Patrice finishes his breakfast and he excuses himself to go and get dressed. Hurrying to finish as well, when I go to clean up my place, she waves me off. I also return to the bedroom.
The bedroom is actually really unique as well. There is a small table with a computer on it tucked into the corner. There is a large queen sized bed. However, it’s not the typical box spring and mattress that we have in Canada. The mattress is a large piece of foam on a hard slab. When we first laid down last night it was comfortable, however after about twenty minutes we sunk down and it was hard to sleep, pun intended. Beside that there is a large wardrobe, but no closet. There is also a small ensuite that has a shower, sink and toilet. It is tiled from top to bottom with a salmon pink tile; even the ceiling.
We also have a sliding glass door that leads out to a small balcony. We overlook a fellow apartment building across the way, however beyond that we can see glimpses of the Atlantic Ocean. It’s breathtaking, really. There is also a very comfy looking hammock. I’m hoping to convince Patrice to nap with me in after we get back this afternoon.
“You’re not dressed yet.” Patrice tells me pointedly.
I grin at him, “I’m half way there.”
He rolls his eyes and pulls out a pair of walking sandals. “Hurry up, we’re supposed to leave now. We’re going for a tour of the Gold Coast. Then were going to a barbeque for lunch.”
Nodding, I pull on a white t-shirt and grab a pair of my walking sandals. As I wander out into the living room I see our driver, Daniel, standing there. Patrice and Daniel engaged in rapid conversation.
When they notice me, I get a wave and I follow them out the door and into the small hallway.
The apartment building we are in is about five stories high. There are two condos on each floor, so that makes ten condo’s all-together. There is an underground parking garage. There are also two tiny elevators. They are so tiny, that the three of us have to squish to get inside. Daniel pushes the button for the parking garage, and we start to ascend.
**
Day 2 Lunch time-
Everything is green, first, green oranges and now green coconuts. What is the world coming to? Ok seriously, they have these little stands that dot the beach with a man selling green coconuts for a reais. Daniel insisted on buying us each a coconut.
They cut open the top of it with a large knife then stick a colourful straw in it. The water inside is cold and it tastes wonderful on my dry throat. It’s different than anything I’ve ever tasted before. It’s a tangy fresh taste, that’s the only way I could describe it.
“Mmm.” Patrice says as he finishes his coconut, “you know that would go really good with some vodka.”
Slurping up the last of mine, I nod and agree it would go very good with vodka. I wonder if they have a packaged version I can take back to Canada with me.
**
“I swear if I eat another bite, I’ll burst.” I tell Patrice and Daniel as I finish off my AMAZING chocolate tort. We’ve been at the “Barbeque” restaurant for the last two hours, doing nothing but eating.
“Me also.” Patrice sighs heavily. Looking at the waiters still circulating with food.
This place is very different from any restaurant I’ve ever been too. First you start off with an all you can eat buffet. After you stuff yourself with the meat that comes… and comes, and comes. Waiters circulate with spits of full off all kinds of meat. Pork, beef, chicken. Not to mention to occasional odd thing that you’re not quite sure what it is.
Patrice and I ended up trying a chicken heart. Daniel insisted that it was amazing a true delicacy. After some prodding, (and we didn’t really know what it was at that time) we both took one and ate it. It wasn’t exactly bad, but not great either. I was doing ok until Patrice said, “It kinda tastes like blood.”
That unpleasant coppery taste that was in my mouth suddenly clicked and I forced my self to swallow. “Well it is chicken heart!” Daniel explained.
Patrice first turned green, then white, then red. As politely as possible he spit it out and chugged the water in front of him.
Laughing my ass off at him, I ate the other half of his. Not that it tasted that great, but more to see him turn green. He then bolted to the bathroom. Laughing I excused myself to check on him.
He was ok and we spent another hour or so eating until the dessert cart came. And then we tried a slice of everything on the cart.
No here I am a picture of content, but my God, I’m going to have to run or something tomorrow to work off the extra pounds I just put on.
Patrice and I had already agreed that he would pay. Because we are in an unfamiliar country where we could potentially be targets, we have a system worked out. One of us would carry money and passports for the day, however the other would pay for everything. That way if we got jumped, the person that had the money and passports was more likely to escape than the person who didn’t. Scary thought, but we had to prepare for it.
The waiter presented Patrice and Daniel with the bills. Despite our best efforts Daniel insisted on paying for his own meal. Patrice let him, explaining to me in quite French that he will just add extra money to the payment to him at the end.
After the bills were taken care of we and we left the restaurant Daniel told us we had one more stop to make before we returned to the apartment. We had to go and visit the Havaianas store. Everyone is Brazil wears Havaianas and we stick out like sore thumbs with our walking sandals so we need to get Havaianas.
We arrive at this little hole in the wall shop. The sales lady is very nice and thankfully speaks perfect English. She explains the size difference between American, European and Brazilian shoes and she helps us each choose a pair. Patrice gets a “citrus green; slick style” pair while I get a “ Navy/ Royal blue; Style” pair. I also pick up an orange pair with butterflies for my sister.
Then we pile back into the small car, with me again in the back. Patrice has claimed the front seat. Me being the shorter one of the two us, I get stuck in the back. It fucking sucks, since there is no room.
We arrive back at the apartment and pile in. I drop my bags on the bed and strip down. I’m hot and sweaty and I want nothing more than to shower and sleep. Patrice follows suit, but I make it to the bathroom first. However I leave the door unlocked as an invitation for him to join me.
The water is too cold for us to do anything in the shower, however afterwards Patrice leads me to the balcony. Lying naked and dripping in the hammock I climb in and join him.
The balcony has glass enclosing it to keep the sun out. I know that the people in the other apartments can’t see us. Still with the breeze from the water coming in the top of the window and the sounds of the street below us, I feel like we are outside in full view. That makes me want him so bad.
I kiss him harshly. It’s the first real kiss we’ve shared since worlds. When we arrived, we were too exhausted to do anything but shower eat and sleep, then we were up and running at dawn. A few quick kisses were all we could manage last night before we passed into oblivion.
Now I’m taking my time to explore his mouth. His body. We lay pressed together still slick from our shower. My hands roam everywhere. His hands find all the right spots like we’ve never been apart.
We rub against each other our bodies creating a sweet and delicious friction. My cock is almost painfully hard and it’s weeping at the tip. His is in the same state as mine when I swipe my fingers over it and bring it to my lips.
“Mmm.” I tell him as I taste him. He arches against me and I repeat the process with my cock and I feed him my fingers this time. “Get them nice and wet.”
He nods and his tongue swirls around them. The feeling goes right to my dick. Careful because of the precarious position of the hammock I place a knee on either side of his waist spreading myself wide open for him.
He lets my fingers slip from my mouth. “Condoms, lube.” He gasps out as I’m now playing with his dick.
“Shit.” I murmur before I kiss him. I carefully get up and out of the hammock and go back into the bedroom. Digging in the pocket of my suite case I come up with lube and some condoms. I head back out to the balcony.
I toss him a condom and the lube. “Put it on.” I half growl at him. He does and I join him in the hammock once more.
Taking the lube from him I coat my fingers. Slowly one by one I slide them into myself. Prepping myself for his cock.
He moans and grips my hips as I sway lightly.
“Let fuck me you.” He gaps as he watches me finger fuck myself.
“Sorry… didn’t… quite… catch… that…” I tell him in short burst. This feels amazing.
He scowls and grips my wrist. He pulls and I remove my fingers. He makes the motion for me to lie on my back but I shake my head.
“No.” I tell him as I lick my lips. “I wanna ride you.”
He moans and his head falls back. I take that moment to position myself over him. I guide him into me slowly. I’ve never done it this way before. As he slides into me my body protests the intrusion but I keep going until he’s buried deep inside me.
I don’t move however. I focus on my breathing, waiting for the pain to retreat. I feels his hand at the small of my back massage me. “Ok?” He asks and I open my eyes blinkingly at him.
I nod but I don’t move. His hands continue to rub my back. It takes a moment before I notice that we are swaying gently back and forth in the hammock.
I look down at him. His face is masked with pleasure. His hair is all over the place. His body has now healed from the rigors of the season. His breathing is shallow, hinting that he is close to losing control.
I test my hips, wiggling softly he moans. The pain that I felt at first is now almost absent. I raise myself up on my knees and then slowly bring myself down.
The hammock moves and shudders. I reach up and grab the ring at the top of the hammock. My other hand is pressed against Patrice’s stomach.
I move slowly at first. He’s so deep in me; it’s a different feeling than I’m used to. His hands are clamped tightly to my hips guiding me. Encouraging me to move.
My slow tentative movements start to gain speed as I use the rocking of the hammock to help him thrust in and out of me. We seem to move forever. Our bodies are the only things in the world. Suspended together in a frozen moment of time.
Our cries start to rise and I feel myself tittering on the brink. The pain and the uncertainty of the past little while slowly ebbs away as I crash over the edge, calling his name.
I’m almost unaware of his orgasm, as I was in the midst of my own. He moans and thrashes below me. As though in slow motion I collapse on top of him gasping.
He slides out of me and I cuddle against his chest. I don’t even feel him move to take off his condom. The soft swaying of the hammock has me mesmerized, and for a moment I can forget.
Day 3- Mid Afternoon.
I’ve swum, I’ve ran, I’ve dance and I’ve even sung karaoke. I’m exhausted. Every year they have a huge party at this private club. Daniel is a member and he got us invited to this huge party.
We arrived at nine. It’s now two-thirty and I’m beat. The heat and the exercise has me done in. Daniel called Else (the middle aged lady that cooks for us) to come and get us so we could go home.
We however did make friends with a rather cute boy, named Rene, from France. He is here as an exchange student. When he heard Patrice and I talking in French he got all excited. Patrice and him have been chattering on and off since midmorning.
When Else arrives to take us home, Rene, passes Patrice a piece of paper. He then speaks to Else before waving us good-bye.
Because the club is only about a block away from the apartment we were walking back.
“What was that about?” I ask Patrice as we follow Else down the sidewalk.
“Rene has invited us to a party tomorrow night.” Patrice explains as he avoids a pothole. The sidewalks here are interesting. Areas in front of nice apartment building or stores are in good condition, and are always paved. Areas next to poor buildings or empty spaces are often just packed dirt trails, often riddle with potholes.
“Can we go?” I ask him as we stop at a crosswalk. There is a break in the traffic and we hurry across the street.
“If we can get Daniel to drive us I do not see why not.” He says as we arrive at the gate to our complex.
Else let’s us in the gate with her key and we make our way into the building. “That sounds great.” I tell him as we reach the elevators
“Do you know what also sounds great?” Patrice asks me. As we step into the elevator.
“A nap?” I reply stepping out the elevator.
He laughs at me. Else opens the apartment door. He goes straight to the bedroom and I follow him shutting the door behind me.
He kisses me and then he tells me. “A nap sounds great.”
I kiss him back. Stripping down, I crawl into bed and he does the same. Cuddling up close to me, I sigh. I’m so happy right now I don’t think life can get any better.
Rating: NC-17
Paring: Crosby/Begeron
Dedication:
starbucks2940!!! Thanks for the beta!Disclaimer: This is based on real life events, however this is written from the fictitious point of view, all the characters feelings and thoughts are those of the authors, all persons, names and logos belong to there perspective copy rights or perspective persons. This author claims to own none of these and has used all names persons and logos without said permission. This is a work of fiction, and is ment as no harm or disregard towards included persons, names and logos. This work should be taken as a compliment
to all involved within.
A/N: This is my ELEVENTH Sidney fic in the [A Little Left Of Center Series].
If you want to read the pervious fics in this series go
AA/N: “Reais” are Brazilian currency. I tried to make Brazil clear, if anyone has a question about something I mention please just ask!! I’ll be happy to explain/maybe even share pics!
x: Posted to IHF, Rambles & my LJ!
Day 1- Friday Morning
“Are you sure you know where you’re going?” Patrice asks me for what seems like the hundredth time.
“I don’t have a fucking clue, BUT, we need reais, so I vote we go to the exchange and get some money and THEN we’ll figure out where the hell we are suppose to go!”
He sighs, “Fine.”
“If you have a better idea, then please share it,” I snap at him, as a long uncomfortable flight coupled with the oppressing heat has made me cranky.
“No” he kinda yells at me.
I stop dead in the middle of the large Sao Palo airport, “I’m sorry.”
“I am sorry too,” he sighs, “Now lets go find the exchange and then check our bags at Varig, and then find some food cause I am starving.” I nod and then we make our way to a bank of elevators, which takes us to the second floor, or what seems like the second floor and to the exchange. Thankfully they speak English and we are able to exchange our traveller’s checks with out a problem. I got them to give me some smaller bills in addition to the larger ones they gave me, what the heck and I going to do with a bunch of fifties? The exchange rate is crazy, like double and then some for every American dollar. I exchanged two hundred and fifty not wanting to be carrying around too much cash, while Patrice exchanged four hundred. Way to much money to have on my person.
We then get directions from the guy at the exchange as to were to check our big-ass bags and we make our way down there. The guy is really nice, and thankfully speaks English he tells us where our gate is to fly to Salvador. He also tells us where some places are to get food.
Patrice and I set off again and end up at MacDonald’s. As much as I hate it, I gave up and agreed to eat here because they had a menu in English, so I knew what the hell we were ordering. Lucky for us this time the person at the counter did NOT speak English but somehow we managed to get our point across and get some reasonably normal looking food.
After we eat, we make our way though security and to our gate. As we arrive there is a plane leaving for Salvador, after a moment of panic we realize it’s not out flight and we settle down in some uncomfortable chairs to wait.
I grab one of the mystery novels I packed and Patrice is reading some weird French book. After I read about ten pages he lets out a loud sigh and tosses his book down.
I glance up from my novel, “Something wrong?”
“It’s fucking hot.” he whines, and I nod in response. We changed into shorts and T-shirts and walking sandals on the plane in anticipation of the heat. Patrice really didn’t have a choice since he made a mess of his PJ pants. It felt like a brick wall hitting us when we walked off of the plane. Its like we walked right into an oven, and hello, we are Canadian boys, and we’re definitely not made for 30 degree weather PLUS humidity.
“We can shower when we get to the apartment.” I reply to him. This trip that Patrice booked us is a different one. Instead of staying in a hotel like normal tourists we get to stay in an apartment. There is an older couple who feed us and drive us and around and stuff. I’m excited to be in a place where no one knows me, or who I am; I’ll just be another English tourist. I can’t wait.
“Excuse Me,” a third voice says and Patrice and I turn to see a rather cute looking guy with blond hair standing there.
“Yes?” I reply.
“You wouldn’t happen to know if flight 2318 has left yet?” he looks kinda nervous.
“No it has not left yet, first board calling will be in about forty minutes.” Patrice responds.
He lets out a breath, “Oh thank God, I was afraid I missed it.”
“Nah, you didn’t miss it, we’re on that flight too.” He doesn’t seem to know who we are, so I feel comfortable talking to him.
He plops down in the seat next to mine, “Hey I’m Drew.”
“Hey” I reply, “I’m Sid and this is Patrice.” I tell him using a shortened form of my name. I don’t know why, it just felt right.
“Nice to meet you,” he gives us a million-watt-grin, “So what are you doing here in Brazil?”
I shrug, “Vacation.”
“Me too, so where ya from?”
“Canada.” Patrice replies.
“Oh WOW! I’m from San Francisco.”
“Have you always lived there?” Patrice asks.
“Nah, moved there when I was eighteen for the community.” he replies simply.
“Community…” Patrice starts “Oh,” he says, with the realization washing over his face.
Drew blushes and ducks his head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean too…” he lets his sentence hang and blushes an even darker shade of red.
I shrug, “It’s ok, we’re part of the ‘community’ too.”
“Oh,” Drew raises his head and grins at us, “So are you two together?”
“Yes.” Patrice states rather flatly. It actually made me kinda giddy, as though he was staking his claim on me. No, scratch that, it made me bloody hot.
“Too bad.” He replies simply.
“So… where are you staying?” I ask him, in an attempt to change the topic.
“The Barra Turismo Hotel, for a few days then a place in Praia do Forte.” He explains.
“Awesome, we’re going to stay a night in Praia do Forte, at this really nice bed-in breakfast.” Patrice tells him.
“Not the Hotel Porto Zarpa?” He asks.
“Uhh, yea, I think so.” Patrice replies.
He grins wildly at us, “Wicked cool, I’m staying there too!”
“Great! When?” I interject.
“I get there next Thursday and I’m staying until Sunday,” he explains.
“Bon.” Patrice says, “We are there on Thursday night also, then we return to Salvador, there is that large concert on Friday night, and then we leave Sunday morning.”
Drew’s eyes sparkle, “Too bad you weren’t there longer…”
I catch Patrice’s eye. I have to admit that I am very interested in Drew; maybe this trip will give us a chance to expand out boundaries a little bit. I mean that’s what this trip is all about.
“Flight 2318, Flight 2318 is now boarding” the mechanical voice fills the room. After repeating it in several different languages, both Patrice and I grab our stuff and get in-line for the last leg of our journey to Brazil.
**
Day 2- Saturday Morning
“Sidney.” I feel a something soft stroking my arm. “Sidney”
I open my eyes to find a squat middle-aged, woman stroking my arm. “Wake Sidney, wake.”
Moaning, I flip over onto my back. “I’m up.” I tell her with a sigh.
She smiles and makes a eating motion “Ok, I’ll be there in a minute.”
She nods and wanders away, shutting the door behind her. Groaning, I sit up. Stretching, and not expecting an answer, I ask outloud, “What time is it?”
“A few minutes after six.” I look towards the direction of the voice and see Patrice strolling towards me. He’s rubbing his hair with a towel. “Shower’s free.” He tells me as he plops himself down on the bed and grabs a pair of his underwear.
I stumble out of bed. After going to the bathroom and taking and ice shower, (they apparently DO NOT have hot water in Brazil, they don’t need it) I dress with just a pair of shorts and wander into the kitchen.
Patrice is sitting there with a large plate of toast and fruit in front of him. Sitting down I have the same placed in front of me along with a large glass of juice. Freshly squeeze orange juice from green oranges. Patrice and I had a long drawn out conversation as to why the oranges were green.
Why are they? Because most of the time oranges we get in Canada (and the USA too) are either biochemically engineered or they have been dyed the colour orange. Weird eh?
I take a sip of the juice. It tastes really good. The lady who woke me up was now handing me sugar. She was gesturing for me to pour the sugar in the glass. I add a little and stir it up. She frowns and then takes it from me, dumping a whole truckload of it in. Smiling I take another sip. It’s so sweet I almost want to make a face.
Patrice raises his eyebrows at me and tries to suppress a laugh. I retort by sticking my tongue out at him. He happened to be taking a drink at this exact time however and he snorted the orange juice out of his nose. Ow.
He scowls at me as he grabs a napkin. Laughing to myself I devour the toast and watermelon that had been place in front of me. After we had arrived last night they had fed us pizza. Not a good old pepperoni Pizza, no. They fed us a tuna pizza and salmon pizza. I have one word: GROSS. It was SO awful, but this toast and fruit isn’t bad.
It’s a weird way to make toast though; they don’t have a toaster or a microwave, or a dishwasher. They have a small ceramic sink and a tiny stove. The fridge is weird to say the least. It only opens at certain times, I’ve yet to figure it out. The butter the square bread and then place it on a griddle, hence making toast. Everything here is so different. Not that I’m really complaining though.
Patrice finishes his breakfast and he excuses himself to go and get dressed. Hurrying to finish as well, when I go to clean up my place, she waves me off. I also return to the bedroom.
The bedroom is actually really unique as well. There is a small table with a computer on it tucked into the corner. There is a large queen sized bed. However, it’s not the typical box spring and mattress that we have in Canada. The mattress is a large piece of foam on a hard slab. When we first laid down last night it was comfortable, however after about twenty minutes we sunk down and it was hard to sleep, pun intended. Beside that there is a large wardrobe, but no closet. There is also a small ensuite that has a shower, sink and toilet. It is tiled from top to bottom with a salmon pink tile; even the ceiling.
We also have a sliding glass door that leads out to a small balcony. We overlook a fellow apartment building across the way, however beyond that we can see glimpses of the Atlantic Ocean. It’s breathtaking, really. There is also a very comfy looking hammock. I’m hoping to convince Patrice to nap with me in after we get back this afternoon.
“You’re not dressed yet.” Patrice tells me pointedly.
I grin at him, “I’m half way there.”
He rolls his eyes and pulls out a pair of walking sandals. “Hurry up, we’re supposed to leave now. We’re going for a tour of the Gold Coast. Then were going to a barbeque for lunch.”
Nodding, I pull on a white t-shirt and grab a pair of my walking sandals. As I wander out into the living room I see our driver, Daniel, standing there. Patrice and Daniel engaged in rapid conversation.
When they notice me, I get a wave and I follow them out the door and into the small hallway.
The apartment building we are in is about five stories high. There are two condos on each floor, so that makes ten condo’s all-together. There is an underground parking garage. There are also two tiny elevators. They are so tiny, that the three of us have to squish to get inside. Daniel pushes the button for the parking garage, and we start to ascend.
**
Day 2 Lunch time-
Everything is green, first, green oranges and now green coconuts. What is the world coming to? Ok seriously, they have these little stands that dot the beach with a man selling green coconuts for a reais. Daniel insisted on buying us each a coconut.
They cut open the top of it with a large knife then stick a colourful straw in it. The water inside is cold and it tastes wonderful on my dry throat. It’s different than anything I’ve ever tasted before. It’s a tangy fresh taste, that’s the only way I could describe it.
“Mmm.” Patrice says as he finishes his coconut, “you know that would go really good with some vodka.”
Slurping up the last of mine, I nod and agree it would go very good with vodka. I wonder if they have a packaged version I can take back to Canada with me.
**
“I swear if I eat another bite, I’ll burst.” I tell Patrice and Daniel as I finish off my AMAZING chocolate tort. We’ve been at the “Barbeque” restaurant for the last two hours, doing nothing but eating.
“Me also.” Patrice sighs heavily. Looking at the waiters still circulating with food.
This place is very different from any restaurant I’ve ever been too. First you start off with an all you can eat buffet. After you stuff yourself with the meat that comes… and comes, and comes. Waiters circulate with spits of full off all kinds of meat. Pork, beef, chicken. Not to mention to occasional odd thing that you’re not quite sure what it is.
Patrice and I ended up trying a chicken heart. Daniel insisted that it was amazing a true delicacy. After some prodding, (and we didn’t really know what it was at that time) we both took one and ate it. It wasn’t exactly bad, but not great either. I was doing ok until Patrice said, “It kinda tastes like blood.”
That unpleasant coppery taste that was in my mouth suddenly clicked and I forced my self to swallow. “Well it is chicken heart!” Daniel explained.
Patrice first turned green, then white, then red. As politely as possible he spit it out and chugged the water in front of him.
Laughing my ass off at him, I ate the other half of his. Not that it tasted that great, but more to see him turn green. He then bolted to the bathroom. Laughing I excused myself to check on him.
He was ok and we spent another hour or so eating until the dessert cart came. And then we tried a slice of everything on the cart.
No here I am a picture of content, but my God, I’m going to have to run or something tomorrow to work off the extra pounds I just put on.
Patrice and I had already agreed that he would pay. Because we are in an unfamiliar country where we could potentially be targets, we have a system worked out. One of us would carry money and passports for the day, however the other would pay for everything. That way if we got jumped, the person that had the money and passports was more likely to escape than the person who didn’t. Scary thought, but we had to prepare for it.
The waiter presented Patrice and Daniel with the bills. Despite our best efforts Daniel insisted on paying for his own meal. Patrice let him, explaining to me in quite French that he will just add extra money to the payment to him at the end.
After the bills were taken care of we and we left the restaurant Daniel told us we had one more stop to make before we returned to the apartment. We had to go and visit the Havaianas store. Everyone is Brazil wears Havaianas and we stick out like sore thumbs with our walking sandals so we need to get Havaianas.
We arrive at this little hole in the wall shop. The sales lady is very nice and thankfully speaks perfect English. She explains the size difference between American, European and Brazilian shoes and she helps us each choose a pair. Patrice gets a “citrus green; slick style” pair while I get a “ Navy/ Royal blue; Style” pair. I also pick up an orange pair with butterflies for my sister.
Then we pile back into the small car, with me again in the back. Patrice has claimed the front seat. Me being the shorter one of the two us, I get stuck in the back. It fucking sucks, since there is no room.
We arrive back at the apartment and pile in. I drop my bags on the bed and strip down. I’m hot and sweaty and I want nothing more than to shower and sleep. Patrice follows suit, but I make it to the bathroom first. However I leave the door unlocked as an invitation for him to join me.
The water is too cold for us to do anything in the shower, however afterwards Patrice leads me to the balcony. Lying naked and dripping in the hammock I climb in and join him.
The balcony has glass enclosing it to keep the sun out. I know that the people in the other apartments can’t see us. Still with the breeze from the water coming in the top of the window and the sounds of the street below us, I feel like we are outside in full view. That makes me want him so bad.
I kiss him harshly. It’s the first real kiss we’ve shared since worlds. When we arrived, we were too exhausted to do anything but shower eat and sleep, then we were up and running at dawn. A few quick kisses were all we could manage last night before we passed into oblivion.
Now I’m taking my time to explore his mouth. His body. We lay pressed together still slick from our shower. My hands roam everywhere. His hands find all the right spots like we’ve never been apart.
We rub against each other our bodies creating a sweet and delicious friction. My cock is almost painfully hard and it’s weeping at the tip. His is in the same state as mine when I swipe my fingers over it and bring it to my lips.
“Mmm.” I tell him as I taste him. He arches against me and I repeat the process with my cock and I feed him my fingers this time. “Get them nice and wet.”
He nods and his tongue swirls around them. The feeling goes right to my dick. Careful because of the precarious position of the hammock I place a knee on either side of his waist spreading myself wide open for him.
He lets my fingers slip from my mouth. “Condoms, lube.” He gasps out as I’m now playing with his dick.
“Shit.” I murmur before I kiss him. I carefully get up and out of the hammock and go back into the bedroom. Digging in the pocket of my suite case I come up with lube and some condoms. I head back out to the balcony.
I toss him a condom and the lube. “Put it on.” I half growl at him. He does and I join him in the hammock once more.
Taking the lube from him I coat my fingers. Slowly one by one I slide them into myself. Prepping myself for his cock.
He moans and grips my hips as I sway lightly.
“Let fuck me you.” He gaps as he watches me finger fuck myself.
“Sorry… didn’t… quite… catch… that…” I tell him in short burst. This feels amazing.
He scowls and grips my wrist. He pulls and I remove my fingers. He makes the motion for me to lie on my back but I shake my head.
“No.” I tell him as I lick my lips. “I wanna ride you.”
He moans and his head falls back. I take that moment to position myself over him. I guide him into me slowly. I’ve never done it this way before. As he slides into me my body protests the intrusion but I keep going until he’s buried deep inside me.
I don’t move however. I focus on my breathing, waiting for the pain to retreat. I feels his hand at the small of my back massage me. “Ok?” He asks and I open my eyes blinkingly at him.
I nod but I don’t move. His hands continue to rub my back. It takes a moment before I notice that we are swaying gently back and forth in the hammock.
I look down at him. His face is masked with pleasure. His hair is all over the place. His body has now healed from the rigors of the season. His breathing is shallow, hinting that he is close to losing control.
I test my hips, wiggling softly he moans. The pain that I felt at first is now almost absent. I raise myself up on my knees and then slowly bring myself down.
The hammock moves and shudders. I reach up and grab the ring at the top of the hammock. My other hand is pressed against Patrice’s stomach.
I move slowly at first. He’s so deep in me; it’s a different feeling than I’m used to. His hands are clamped tightly to my hips guiding me. Encouraging me to move.
My slow tentative movements start to gain speed as I use the rocking of the hammock to help him thrust in and out of me. We seem to move forever. Our bodies are the only things in the world. Suspended together in a frozen moment of time.
Our cries start to rise and I feel myself tittering on the brink. The pain and the uncertainty of the past little while slowly ebbs away as I crash over the edge, calling his name.
I’m almost unaware of his orgasm, as I was in the midst of my own. He moans and thrashes below me. As though in slow motion I collapse on top of him gasping.
He slides out of me and I cuddle against his chest. I don’t even feel him move to take off his condom. The soft swaying of the hammock has me mesmerized, and for a moment I can forget.
Day 3- Mid Afternoon.
I’ve swum, I’ve ran, I’ve dance and I’ve even sung karaoke. I’m exhausted. Every year they have a huge party at this private club. Daniel is a member and he got us invited to this huge party.
We arrived at nine. It’s now two-thirty and I’m beat. The heat and the exercise has me done in. Daniel called Else (the middle aged lady that cooks for us) to come and get us so we could go home.
We however did make friends with a rather cute boy, named Rene, from France. He is here as an exchange student. When he heard Patrice and I talking in French he got all excited. Patrice and him have been chattering on and off since midmorning.
When Else arrives to take us home, Rene, passes Patrice a piece of paper. He then speaks to Else before waving us good-bye.
Because the club is only about a block away from the apartment we were walking back.
“What was that about?” I ask Patrice as we follow Else down the sidewalk.
“Rene has invited us to a party tomorrow night.” Patrice explains as he avoids a pothole. The sidewalks here are interesting. Areas in front of nice apartment building or stores are in good condition, and are always paved. Areas next to poor buildings or empty spaces are often just packed dirt trails, often riddle with potholes.
“Can we go?” I ask him as we stop at a crosswalk. There is a break in the traffic and we hurry across the street.
“If we can get Daniel to drive us I do not see why not.” He says as we arrive at the gate to our complex.
Else let’s us in the gate with her key and we make our way into the building. “That sounds great.” I tell him as we reach the elevators
“Do you know what also sounds great?” Patrice asks me. As we step into the elevator.
“A nap?” I reply stepping out the elevator.
He laughs at me. Else opens the apartment door. He goes straight to the bedroom and I follow him shutting the door behind me.
He kisses me and then he tells me. “A nap sounds great.”
I kiss him back. Stripping down, I crawl into bed and he does the same. Cuddling up close to me, I sigh. I’m so happy right now I don’t think life can get any better.
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