A Paisa Woman in Bogota

I agreed to practice golf with The Mick with a student of his, Maribel from Medellin.

Maribel was a tiny little dandy with short hair. She wore big lens sunglasses and black aerobics tights to show off her shapely legs. After our airkiss greeting, she warmed her legs up by stretching her quadriceps with a foot in her hand. She bounced around and twisted her legs up and about as if warming up for a run. I probably got caught looking.

She mixed it up with The Mick. They had a spunky relationship. I laughed when she called him a “fucking cunt” (The Mick’s favorite insult). I asked her if she knew what a “cunt” was. She didn’t. I explained how I don’t have one but she does. She smiled and noted it’s not a nice word. She was grateful I told her the meaning; The Mick never would’ve.

I noticed her arms were a bit hairy and she had braces on her lower grill. And she’s tiny, a couple heads shorter than me and half my weight. I dismissed the possibility of an affair but she seemed fun, a free-spirited aura. The Mick mentioned they smoked weed together sometimes and she was taking yaje that evening. A little bohemian paisa.

She and I walked next to each other while The Mick led us to the bus stop. She said she’s originally from Medellin and that I must visit. She said it’s too small to live in but the culture is magnetic.

First and foremost about Medellin, people drool over the women. They get lots of plastic surgery: butts, lips, boobs. They’re said to be warm and flirtatious. I’ve heard non-paisa wives accompany their husbands on business in Medellin, or call them repeatedly every night they’re there.

At the bus-stop The Mick had to detour to buy some weed. I sat with the paisita waiting. She told me she fell and hurt her knee. She pulled her knee up with her hands to show me while she rubbed it. This made a provocative shape with her leg in the aforementioned black tights. She moaned “Ooh,” while feeling her pain. I got the first stirring in my pants for the day.

If you think that’s a shameless move, you’re correct. She didn’t have an ounce of shame in her self-pity about her painful knee.

The Mick came back, hailed a taxi, and we went to play golf. I was OK. Maribel was hopeless. She gave up after ten minutes and picked a nice spot in the grass to lie down. She laid face down with her shapely paisa butt in the air. She closed her eyes and rested her head in her arms as if sunbathing. She looked completely natural relaxing and enjoying the peace.

I was distracted from golf by the sight of her tight butt. She’d mentioned a few times that she runs and plays sports, and that golf was boring. Her lower body seemed to support her claims of physical activity. Her muscles were so tight I could see exactly where the butt, hamstrings, and calves stopped and started. A distinct line for each border. I wanted to knead the tightness out of them – massage the tightness out of both butt cheeks, hamstrings, and calf muscles with my strong hands.

After finishing, I stood with Maribel while The Mick was talking to someone he knew. Maribel’s eyes lit up when she spotted a spot in the grass to lie down. Once comfortable on her back, she carried on enjoying herself with an expression as if to say I was absolutely welcome to join her in the grass, or absolutely welcome to remain standing there looking at her.

The Mick paid and we went to lunch, fish in Chapinero. While The Mick was off in the bathroom or somewhere, Maribel pulled her injured knee close to her face again, again making that wonderful view of her shapely thigh. She identified the exact spot on the top of her knee and caressed it in small circles with her index finger, moaning “ooh ooh” and then an “ahh, ahh.” All the while she looked me in the eyes. Her face and noises and thigh caused another stirring in my pants, this time a great stirring.

I had to go the bathroom when The Mick got back to the table, but only after a manual adjustment to my pants before standing up. After standing, I had to do some more adjusting after turning around because it wasn’t completely normal yet.

When it was time to say goodbye, Maribel honed in and asked if I’d like to take yaje with them that evening. I gave a non-committal answer. She grabbed my arm and rubbed it up and down real hard, almost squeezing. Then she gave me a strong hug with all her body, a hug showing just how tight and frisky her little body is.

I can’t put into words how nonchalant she was in all respects. During lunch, golf, at the bus-stop, with her knee, everything, she was the embodiment of a free and fun spirit. I thought about her as soon as I got home. And again that night in bed. And again when I woke up the next day and one more time in the shower after playing basketball.

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  1. Really interesting….I love your stories..they are the best!

    The only thing I am missing are some pics….esp on the ladies…!

    Take care!


  2. where do you play basketball? ive been dying to play but cant seem to find anywhere or anyone that plays. my nikes have been sittin in the closet since i got here a few months ago


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