[elabayarde]

(08-30-2013 12:46 PM)Courage Reborn Wrote:  

Day 1

Thursday night. Check into Hostel Auberge Internationale. This place is a zoo. Biggest Hostel I've ever seen in my life. I saw 100 girls here, but the only cute one works the front desk. She has another employee hugging her.

Logistically I'm in a 4 bunk room. Teeny tiny room. When the door opens it's right by the head on the bed. Bunkmates are anti-social german bros. I really didn't want to stay in a hostel, but the city is so small there was not an airbnb listing available in the downtown area, and the hotels are too expensive.

They are having a Celtic music show downstairs. About 50 people. No cute girls. 2 average young German chicks are getting more attention than they deserve from a horde of Quebecoi dudes with beers in hand. I need to get outta here.

Head up 1 block to Saint Jean. It's a touristy street with kitchy shops. They have a "lord of the rings" store. I snap a picture with gandalf the grey. Street is mostly dead. Some hipster sets. Sit down at a crepe bar. Staff is hipstered out with tats & dreads. The crepes were definitely not money. They did cost a lot though. $21 for 1 regular & 1 sweet.

I lean on some data PM'd to me, and walk down a couple miles to Grande Allee. Looks to me like this is the main nightclub & bar strip in town. It's between Rue d'Artigny and Rue de Senezerguez, if you're visiting.

I stop into 3 different places. As expected for a Thursday night in a small city, they are all mostly dead.

Bar Le Dagobert, is happening however. It's a good size club. Instigating the party is a hilarious 80's cover band, karma khameleons (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YxVUT7aCvn0). Don't know about you guys, but as a former touring musician myself, I love seeing a good cover band. They always draw girls too.

Front of the bar is a cougar-y leopard dress blonde, dancing with her homegirl. Small waist, red high heels. Body is a 9. Face is beautiful under the right lighting conditions only. Like the hot detective on one of those crime dramas. Once the strobe comes on you'd want to turn her around again though. I roll up and ask her hey how's it goin'?

She flips over my american accent. Asks me a million questions. She can't believe I'm in Quebec. "why would you leave California??" There is a decent language barrier. Her Inglay isn't the best. With each question she leans some of her body into me, so I can feel her fake tits poking me. After a few minutes she's putting her whole body on mine during the convo. I can feel her pussy against me now. I'm getting turned on. This cougar is horny as fuck. We exchange contact info. The convo starts to die, so I spin her and her friend. Dance for a couple songs. I look around the room. Being a greedy SoB I spot some younger looking talent, and excuse myself to grab a water, figuring detective cougar will still be an option well into the night.

Open a couple sets, but nothing really hooks. I kick back and watch the band, sip my water. Then the shit show begins. All the dudes at the club decide to start macking on cougar detective at the same time. She blows each and every one out of the water. I am watching this happen from 20 feet away, chuckling. 1 bro is persistent however. He looks like a french drunk surfer Owen Wilson. He keeps dancing up on her. She keeps back turning him. But he keeps trying. I admire Owen Wilsons persistence. It's something I haven't seen in Canada yet. Then I figure he's just trashed out of his mind, and loose said respect.

I go back to cougar detective. I tell her I'm leaving the club. "Nooooooooooo!" Gives me sad puppy dog face. I ask where she lives? She says her friend is driving her. Then before I can begin pushing for the close, she grabs my arms, places them around her, and forces me to full body hug her. I can feel her warm pussy again pressing against me. God damn. When a lonely cougar is in heat, it is a force of nature to experience. Fuck it. I'm all in with this one.

For the next half hour she's talking, dancing, and grinding her leopard clad ass into me. I enjoy this for a while, but getting tired of all the teasing. I spin her to face me. Look at her dead in the eyes and say, "you're coming with me". More stare. We make out. It's a pretty raunchy makeout. If I could have banged her on the dance floor I would have. She grinds her ass into my crotch again, but now she is reaching her hands back and *squeezing* my cock at the same time. Her hands are literally wrapped around it. In her ear, I tell her to take me to her house. "I can't ". Sure you can, you're a grown ass woman. We can do anything we want tonight, and nothing we don't. "I'm sorry...you txt me tomorrow though ".

W
T
F
?

I swear this shit only happens in Quebec. Almost never in the US. The band finishes their set. People start to leave. Cougar detectives friend is pulling her out to go home, and I'm tugging from the other side trying to make magic happen. I persist 17 different ways, but she won't leave with me. Dragged out by her friend, she hands me her business card and blows kisses. Defeated, horny and frustrated, I slump onto a couch. Owen Wilson is smirking at me. I want to smack him in the nose, but I cab back to the hostel instead.

Still need more data, but so far Quebec = cruel & unusual cocktease

That was my last montreal experience... over and over again. For two days. But I think French will change everything, the same way it does in LAtin America.