I came to Haiti looking for trouble. I found it…

Monday night was one of the most dramatic nights of my life. Read on for the sex & violence…

I stumbled out of the pub, oblivious to the imminent danger. It was my second night in Port-au-Prince, the archaic capital of Haiti. I was in Petionville, a rich suburb a world away from central part of the city I was in the night before…

Enter Chaos

My first day in the capital, I moseyed a few kilometres south of the bus station into a ghetto north of Champs de Mars. The place was leveled, with the facade of a post-apocalyptic war zone. One of the buildings left standing, a unstable three story structure hunched in the middle, had ‘hotel’ painted on the wall. I checked in. My room was a roach-fest but I was right in the heart of ground zero. On the streets, people gawked at me like I had two heads. Much of the roads were a maze of open sewers, lined with rubbish and hundreds of hawkers selling anything they could. On several occasions, I even saw women just hunch down, and purge themselves right by the roadside. Many crossroads have become massive dumping grounds, where massive piles of filth have accumulated in hills several metres high. All this, to a backdrop of endless make shift camps and rumble.

That first night, I recklessly wondered the streets of one the most dangerous places on earth. Groups of suspicious looking men would stare at me in silence as I walked past. “Salut!” I´d say, and be on my way. The whole night passed without incident, and this on the day crowds swarmed many streets as the election resulted were revealed.

After with such a daring (some would say suicidal) excursion into the underworld of Port-au-Prince, a night bar hopping in the relatively affluent suburb of Petionville seemed a doddle. Wrong.

I was Attacked...

I stumbled out a bar, on my way to see a bartender I was chatting up earlier in the night. Before I knew it I was surrounded by 4 guys.

“Give me fucking money!” One screamed in my face.

They encircled me and squared up. I was royally fucked and couldn’t escape. They start pillaging my pockets.

“Ok, Relax, no problem.”

I lift up my arms and show no resistance. It wasn’t fucking worth it. I didn’t want things to get violent, not with me vs 4 Haitian guys. Luckily, I was prepared. I knew to have barely anything on me. They took my shitty $10 phone I got in East Timor, a bracelet bestowed on me by a Maltese lover and all my drinking money. After that, things got heated. They tried to remove my shoes – that was the line. I got in a brawl and started shouting out for help. There was no chance I was crusin´around barefoot for the rest of the night, it’s just not sexy. Just before they managed to get the second shoe off, help arrived. A moto roared up and the gang scampered. It was a shitty experience, made worse by the fact I was only 100 metres away from the police station. At least I was unharmed.

One more beer (part 2)

After making a report, the moto driver was kind enough to drop me to Jetset, the name of the high end bar my target was working at. I wasn’t about to let some thugs ruin my night. The place looked pretty sedated. I had laid the ground work early in the night so the staff gave me a hearty welcome when I walked in. I pull up chair and tell them what happened. My target sympathised and brought me a beer on the house. Word quickly spread around the counter. A beautiful Haitian girl speaks to me across the bar. She’s young and very slender, with an ass that could start wars. Her English was excellent, a rare thing in Haiti.

“Awhh, poor you. Do you need someone to console you?”

There was a glint in her eye. We got talking, much the annoyance of my bartender. I didn’t care, this hottie was a sure thing. Within 5 minutes, she went for the kill.

“I think you need me to accompany you home. I can be your bodyguard.”

We hopped on a moto, went to back to my hotel…
She was amazing. I couldn’t keep my hands off her. Her body was so divine and addictive. Her plump ebony lips performed masterfully. For the second time in my life, I had quadruple orgasms.

It’s nice went stories have happy endings…

Eager to experience the nightlife in Siberia, my good friend Danny and I found ourselves in a nightclub in Tomsk. As the only tourists around, we had no trouble making friends; benevolent locals presented us with shot after shot of Russia’s finest vodka. Danny was talking to a gorgeous student at the bar and I was the center of attention on the dance floor. Things were looking good…

But it all went up shit creek. Literally.

We were naive to cruel intentions. Unbeknownst to us, we had been poisoned by a potent and dizzying elixir.

Danny was the first to experience the effects. Sharing a shot with his new googly-eyed maiden, he skulled back his drink which such enthusiasm, the momentum of the glass defeated Danny’s balance and soon he found himself engaged in a prolonged struggle in stay on his legs. He fell backwards, destroying everything in his wake. Glasses smashed and chairs abated. Then, an almighty cataclysm between him, a table of drinks  and the hard floor. Danny lay in a heap. While he was helped to his feet, I was busy trying to stay on mine…

I too started to feel strange. I rushed across the dancefloor to take cover in the bathroom, but just as I entered the putrid hole-in-the-ground my legs gave way. I landed face first into the nearest shit-ridden squatter toilet. Fail. I made several attempts to stand up, but every time ended back squirming in the epicentre of every sludgy turd. Covered in slop, I was powerless to fight the force of this vacuous black hole. I black out. The next thing I remember – I’m in jail.

Danny is panned out beside me talking in circles. My blothed memory recalls the police laughing at my confused Russian. I remember trying to offer bribes. I remember being in a car. Black out…

Next thing I know, I’m waking up in my own vomit in my hotel room with Danny beside. He couldn’t remember a thing! Our wallets were gone, our heads were pounding and our speech was slurred and incoherent.

Overall a pretty good night!

Hanoi is memorable for its hostile faces, high end nightclubs and its 1.5 million motorcycles. Our experience there involved attempted murder, oral sex and robbery – we really knew how to party.

We checked into a little place on one of Hanoi’s many cosy streets. The area bustled with street hawkers and market stalls selling fruit and children’s toys. It was a long journey and we needed a beer. We were not on the street five minutes when we were approached by two Vietnamese chicks. There eagerness was off-putting and we managed to dismiss them off before entering a rooftop bar nearby. After a few cheeky pints watching the world cup, I was in the mood for a little something. “I’m going back to the room to smoke a splif” I announced. Paddy was clued in the TV and requested I return with his phone.

A few hours later around midnight, I wake up. The smoke had knocked me out. I grabbed Paddy’s phone and left the building to try and find him. The street which had been so active earlier was totally deserted. Shuttered and silenced, I had just stepped out to a ghost town. I start to walk to the local strip but was met by two familiar characters. “Hey, you remember me?” said one of two.  They took my hand and began groping me. “O you so handsome, where do you live?” they playfully suggested. “You so big, we give you free blow job!” they insisted. With all the attention I was getting in South East Asia, I was beginning to think they would be honoured to have my relatively larger Caucasian cock in their mouth. I showed token resistance but I didn’t put up much of a fight. They dragged me to the nearest laneway. It all seemed too good to be true, but I thought “Fuck it! Whatever…” They pinned me to the wall and went straight for my belt, ripped down my shorts and start exploring me with sloppy enthusiasm. It was awesome! A sight you could appreciate; two Asian girls cooperating in orally lavishing your cock and enjoying it too. They took my hands and directed me to grab both their hair, I obliged – they became the reigns to my servants. They worked hard. In the middle of wondering whether I had died and went to heaven, one of them popped up. “I go get condom!” she said, leaving her partner to continue the pleasure. I wasn’t keen on the idea of fucking girls who give blow jobs to strangers in laneways, but before I time to make an excuse the remaining girl halted. “Wait here, I look my friend” and with that, she scampered off! I was left there half naked in the laneway. This was fucked up. Naturally, I didn’t feel like hanging round so I pulled my pants up and tried to escape. I got to the main street just in time to see the two girls speed off on a moto… it was all rather confusing. What had just happened?

Within 30 seconds, I noticed Paddy walking towards me in the distance; it was nice timing. To my surprise he starts talking about the very same duo; “Hey man, you know those two girls from earlier?” My response alerted him “YEA-AH, they both just sucked me off down that laneway!” He started laughing, “O shit, one of them tried to pickpocket me during a moto ride! haha! Did they take anything?” It suddenly became abundantly clear what had just happened. After searching my pockets, I was the only one laughing.  They had robbed me of a measly amount of pocket change and made off with Paddy’s phone!

It was the best mugging ever!