Naked Chilean Girls
Getting naked with a pair of girls from Chile at Praia de Tambaba.
It's the late morning of my third visit to the beaches surrounding Tambaba. I'm descending the road to access a trail that will take me north along the coast, when I see a sporty red hatchback parked halfway down the hill, a pair of girls and a guy checking out the view before continuing on to the parking lot.
I notice the girls noticing me as I approach (lingering gazes at the blond boy only wearing blue board shorts and carrying a small orange bag). Looks like I might have a way into this nude beach today, I though to myself.
The previous two days on the beach to the north had revealed that my little secluded spot was, in fact, not so secluded. Foot traffic from people above, surfers below, and passing vehicles didn't exactly make for a peaceful mind/environment when I was illegally naked on the sand. I don't mind (obviously), but cared enough not to make others feel uncomfortable.
Bearing all this in mind, I casually jumped on this opportunity to be escorted past the entrance enforcer (who prohibits men from passing without the company of a woman).
The three were out of the car and walking on the beach by the time I sauntered down, so I had to briefly hasten my step to close the distance (nothing obvious though). I pulled up along side, said hello, and asked (in less than perfect Spanish) if I could accompany the group past the entrance, as men aren't allowed to enter without women.
The girls said sure, and one asked where I was from. They were Chilean—Spanish speaking—and cute. Lady luck was with me this day.
The unattractive guy with them was obviously Brazilian, but I didn't know how he fit into the picture—friend, taxi driver, tour guide? He thought I was an Argentinean (pretty typical, as I have yet to encounter someone in this country that assumes I'm an American). The girls knew better though, but couldn't place me until I told them.
I felt a little bad about coming up on them, probably giving the appearances of just another guy trying to take a pass at them, but I figured it was a fairly safe bet (seeing as they had sized me up on the hill a few minutes earlier). I found out later that they didn't hear or properly understand what I had said about the men with women policy, but the absence of such information didn't stop them from saying yes anyway.
We passed the lady guard who gave us a little spiel about the rules (no photography, clothes, etc), and let us pass to the wooden stairs that provided passage over the barrier of rock.
We reached the other side and the girls were the living, breathing, manifestation of the words reservation and doubt. The phrases were painted all over them like graffiti on a wall. Their expressions and non-verbal eye contact with each other screamed: OK, I've changed my mind! I've seen the beach, lets go.
I looked at the girls, then at the guy (who was really looking forward to stripping), then back to the girls. I didn't know the policy enforcement of the place or how much further I had to hang out with the Chileans before I could let them be, so I had to take action to keep them at the beach…
I gave a little shrug and RIPPPP went the audible sound of my Velcro fly—off came my shorts. I shoved them into my bag. I looked at the girls and gave them a little encouragement before turning around and walking a few paces to give them some privacy. The guy needed no encouragement to disrobe.
I talk casually about such events, but this one was a new and memorable one for me. My nude beach experiences have always been solo, and never with women (or men) my own age—the girls were 22 and 28. I'm consistently the youngest person on the beach who's running around in his birthday suit—this was altogether new for me. And as it turned out, new for the girls too. This was their first nude beach experience.
After a minute or two of peer pressure had passed, the girls—sisters—had finally disrobed, the youngest of the pair clutching/covering her ample bosom with her right forearm and hand as we walked. She was the more embarrassed of the two, but by the end of the day had done a 180, feeling more comfortable and confident with her naked self (very interesting to observe the transformation).
I personally didn't like the vibes I was getting from this guy with the pair, and asked the Chileans what his connection was with them. They didn't much care for him either, and explained how he ended up with them.
The two were on a day-trip from the larger city of João Pessoa, about one and a half hours to the north. They had taken a bus down, stuck out their thumb in Jacumã, and hitched a ride to the beach. It should be noted that hitchhiking in Chile is an overwhelmingly common (and generally safe) way to move about the country, and didn't surprise me they did the same here in Brazil. The two thought the man would drop them off, but instead decided to tag along.
I picked up on his body language and his little touches of their arms or hands, and didn't care for it—sleazy and in bad form. Later in the day the girls told me they felt the same.
I know what was going through this guy's head when I came into the picture. Other than some competition, he probably assumed that with another guy it'd be easier to wrangle in the other girl (I didn't take). Well, it soon became obvious that I wasn't going to be his wingman, but instead be the shield for the girls.
I'm about as friendly as it gets, and wanted nothing more from the two than to have someone to chat with at beach (company doesn't happen often, and is always a delight) and to see them have a pleasurable time on their first nude beach.
The guy got the gist of what I was doing, tried to offer to take the girls to another (prettier) beach or to pick them up later in the day, but he was shut down—I'd be putting them on a bus back to João Pessoa later in the afternoon. He left, and all smiled.
It was a damn fine day that was spent with the Chileans. The older sister and I clicked very well conversationally, and chatted it up most of the afternoon as we sunned and swam in the shallows together. She was developing quite the travel vice, and said she'd be spending the second half of the year in SE Asia.
I too will be in SE Asia I told her, starting in May, and will probably keep in contact with her (as she'll no doubt be looking for a friendly, familiar face, and I'd love to keep up on my Spanish).
She poked fun at my "racing stripe" when I told her it was my third day at the beach—You mean you get whiter than that?, she said. So mean! (grin)
As the sun descended behind the cliff we redressed and started walking back up the road to catch the bus. Some photos were snapped, and the pair kept mentioning how dark and lovely the color of my skin was—dorado—golden. I told them I've been darker before, back in Thailand a little over two years ago. I'd personally love to reach a nice mahogany color.
Shortly thereafter I put them on a bus and invited them to join me again tomorrow if they didn't end up traveling south to/past Recife the next day (as they were originally planning). Even if I don't see them again, it was a day of smiles and new sensations for all.