FYI.

This story is over 5 years old.

Vice Blog

SÃO PAULO - EDUCATED WOMEN IN EAST AFRICA

Our friend Pip is a suave American businessman living in Brazil who has all kinds of stories about the fucked-up goings-on down there. Recently he came ass-backward into the benefits of an East African sex tradition born of one country's fierce internecine struggles. We'll let him tell you about it.

Last fall I went to Maputo on business. I can’t say exactly what kind because my current wife is incredibly nosy, intelligent, and a descendant of an extremely potent family of witches. During my week there I developed a friendship with one of the receptionists at our branch office, a psychiatrist who’s married to a nephew of an ex-president. We stayed in touch after I left, mostly talking about her idea of starting an import-export business between Mozambique and S√£o Paulo, which isn't too far away from where I live.

Advertisement

She asked if I could put her in touch with someone in the city's Jewish/Korean garment district so I hooked her up with Antonilton, an old friend of mine from Recife who has spent the last 15 years clawing his way up into the wholesale business by sleeping with Korean women. Not wanting any trouble with my wife, I flew to S√£o Paulo on a typically filthy morning to meet them for a few drinks. Eventually Antonilton excused himself. We were in Campos Eliseos, Portuguese for Elysian Fields, the first rich neighborhood in S√£o Paulo that has since fallen into the decay of decadence. Surrounded by rotting Victorian mansions and shabby midrise apartments, I asked a taxi driver where to find the nearest sex motel. We crossed a small plaza and went in.

We got in bed together and—I promise this is true—the very first thing she did was lick my ass. It was the most flattering thing that had ever happened to me. There I was feeling terrible about myself: I’d just hit 40, was thinking about death, looked and felt all out of shape. And a married woman flew over from Africa to lick my ass.

That was just the start of it. She lay on her stomach and as I mounted her, she gripped my waist with her feet and rocked me back and forth. After two days of this she was too sore to continue. We rode around on the subway holding hands. It was her first time ever on a subway. They don’t have them in Mozambique or in Swaziland, where her father sent her to some prissy all-girls boarding school.

Advertisement

Later I discovered what was going on. There’s a longstanding rivalry in Mozambique between the North and the South. The Northerners consider themselves to be experts at fucking. When girls in Zambezia reach puberty they are initiated into the rights of love-making by the women of the community in a week-long ceremony. Over the years this tradition has been commoditized and now Southern women who want to impress their lovers pay $300 for courses taught by Zambezians. I found out from a coworker that she’d taken one of these courses in preparation for her visit. In other words, she paid $300 to learn how to lick my ass and then flew across the Atlantic at her own expense to do it.

During our downtime we drank and drank and hooked up with some friends at an outdoor Samba show. I had to fly back to work and right when I was about to leave she had a nausea attack—"food poisoning," I’m sure.

"Look," I said, "I know that this is probably a terrible time to say this…"
"Why?"
"Because you’re throwing up. You will have a Pavlonian response now every time you think of me saying this."
"Come on, man."
"I would just like to say that this is one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me."

And then I left.

PIP