The Smoothest Minge in Rio

Wanda and Anjelika discuss:

- Apologies
- Brazilian waxing
- Asphyxiation orgasms
- Satisfying Sex

The UK's #1 Sex Podcast
Naive London Girl

http://www.NaiveLondonGirl.com

Tunic

Tunic

The view from my hotel room is stunning. A little bit of paradise. I’m sitting out on the balcony with the laptop on a small side table. From here I can see the sea. It’s high tide and the brown murky waves crash over the rocks rhythmically. Behind me there’s a mountain with houses stacked on top of each other like Legos. There’s a road that wraps around the mountain. The sounds of traffic interrupt the waves. Then occasionally you can hear a stray dog barking. I’m blasting Sonic Youth from the speakers of my Powerbook. “Tunic” has got to be one of the best songs ever.

Last night was a bit of a difficult night, but I soldiered through it. It was the first time in 3 three years that I cried myself to sleep. It’s times like these where I need my dog.

I woke feeling like shit. I couldn’t really sleep. The bed, was very comfortable which made not sleeping even more annoying.

Emotionally, I haven’t quite been though the ringer. Yes, I’m okay, but I feel, I dunno. Like I’ve had the wind knocked out of me. When I used to a gymnist there was one time where I was doing a round-off. It’s sort of like cartwheel. Anyhow one day I slipped and landed flat on my back. The landing didn’t hurt but there was this awful feeling bellowed from my gut. It was like being punched really hard. I dunno. It was like a nervous pain.

Anyhow I’ve had this nervous pain all day. Is there a name for this? It can’t be anxiety, can it? I’ve got this really nervous tension in my chest and it’s really fucking me up. I lost my appetite.

OK, just called a friend of mine who’s an expert in these sort of things. He confirmed it’s anxiety. He told me to take .5 of some sort of depressant. Wish I had some valium now. Maybe I’ll go on the hut for some. God, I used to be Straight Edge.

Today was a wasted day. There wasn’t enough sun to go get a tan. It wasn’t hot enough to go swimming. The sky wasn’t clear enough to go up to the mountains. With every fibre of my being I felt like I had to get the hell out of Rio. My efforts to book a flight out of this city were all for naught. The language barrier is difficult. I won’t bore you with the details but I basically have to go to the airport to buy a ticket. I’m trying to get up to Bahia to visit a very sweet, very beautiful yet very flighty friend of mine. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind me saying this but she is away with the fairies! (But she is ever so sweet!)

It’s really hard to characterize my trip here. And for personal reasons there’s some stuff going down that I can’t mention. I’ll just say for now that it’s character-building stuff. Hello Euphemism!

I know everything will be fine in the end. But when you’re in the tick of it, it’s quite hard to get some perspective.

Sex and the Ex

Wanda and Anjelika discuss:

- Censorship and Radio Presentors
- Anjelika's latest bedroom action
- Upcoming Brazil Trip
- Falling asleep during Masturbation
- The guy Wanda fancies
- Guys on the Rebound
- Wanda's search for a "Gap-year Guy"
- More about the New York Trip

Naive London Girl
http://www.NaiveLondonGirl.com

The UK's #1 Sex Podcast

Rio Day 2: Good Behaviour

Rio Day 2: Good Behaviour

It’s hot. Too hot to sleep, The air was thick and hot. I tried sleeping with the air condition on but it was so loud as if I were adjacent to a jet engine. I turned off the A/C but then ended up sweating and feeling congested. I woke up at 5AM local time. It was 9 AM in London.

I got a couple phone calls about potential jobs. It was nothing was overly enthusiastic about but a job is a job. I somehow spent four hours on the internet.

I pulled myself off the internet at 9:30 realizing that I had an appointment to be waxed at 10.

I put on some stylish yet semi-uncomfortable pair of shoes and walked down to the salon where I booked my waxing session.

Although I don’t speak the language, I was able to convey that I wanted my legs, armpits, eyebrows and bikini area waxed. The salon was plain no-frills salon off the main drag in Ipenema. I was led to a tiny backroom. I think I was instructed to take off my clothes except my bra, but I can’t be too sure. I was hoping that the woman servicing me would start with the Brazilian bikini wax. Instead she saved it for last. She waxed my eyebrows, face, underarms, legs and bikini area. It hurt like a mother, but I was left as smooth as a baby’s bottom. After the wax I got manicure and pedicure. In total it cost me £33. That’s a bargain, right?

After the salon I had a small lunch at a quaint Brazilian brasserie. This was followed by a 2-hour tanning session on the beach, then a disco nap at the hotel.

I met up with some British friends for drinks. During the drinks I slipped to the loo and applied some fanny butter.

All I can say is that I'm VERY pleased with the results.

Rio: The Case of the Spray Bidet

Rio: The Case of the Spray Bidet

I just arrived in the lovely city of Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. My hotel is what you would call, ‘Tourist Class.” I don’t mind, but it’s weird to think that just last week I was staying at the Ritz. I’m staying in Ipanema (cue music) and my hotel is supposed to be close to the beach. I need to g out to investigate if this is true.

I’m horny as fuck. It must be the heat. It’s 31 degrees C. What is that in Fahrenheit? Eighty something? The whole cab ride here I kept thinking, I hope there’s a shower-head massager.

As soon as the porter dropped off my bag and left the room, I ripped off my clothes. I just wanted to get myself off. I hurried into the bathroom and was surprised to find that there’s no tub. It’s just a shower. And to make matters worse it’s not even a shower head massager. Fuck!

Now I’m going to have to finger myself to off. That’s just more work than I want to do when I’m on vacation. Upon a second glance in the bathroom I noticed something that looked like a spray gun. Is that to spray your ass with water? A spray bidet? I’m confused. I wonder what other purposes it can be used for?

Bizarre New York Shitty

Bizarre New York Shitty

I'm in New York City again.

I really fucked up the timing of this trip. I thought it only took a day to get a tourist visa to Brazil. When I last got a visa to Brazil 7 years ago the visa took like 15 minutes. They did it on the spot.

So the day before I was due to leave for Brazil I went to the Brazilian Consulate just off Piccadilly Circus. They told me it takes 5 (count em FIVE) days to get a tourist visa.

WTF?!? Why do you need a visa to visit Brazil anyhow? And for the love of God tell me why it would take 5 days? So I've had to change my plane ticket and come to New York because it only takes 2 days to get a visa here. So it's just before 8:00 here in New York and I'm getting ready to go to the Brazilian embassy.

The weather is miserable. It's cold wet and rainy. I left sunny 80 degree weather in London for this! Unbelievable!

There's flooding here. The flood waters are driving the rats above ground and that really freaks me out. Last night I was on a very narrow subway platform. I had a choice between:

a. walking into a huge puddle of water
b. falling off the platform edge
c. walking into a very intimidating-looking family of rats

It's never an easy decision. It's madness! That's what New York does to you. It drives you mad. It drives you mad but it doesn't do it all at once. New York City slowly drives you mad so one day you wake up and you are a complete freak – but you're not a freak to other New Yorkers because they're all freaks as well in some strange pool of collective insanity.

It's only when you venture across the tunnel and rejoin a 'normal' society that you realize that it's really fucking bizarre to be living in an apartment who's total size is smaller than the bedroom you grew up in. And the rent is 3 times higher than your parent's mortgage.

It's bizarre that you go day after day without leaving a six-block radius from your apartment.

It's bizarre that every twenty-something friend of yours is single.

It's bizarre that you have more contact with the local guy who runs the corner shop than you do with your own friends.

It's bizarre that none of your friends own property.

It's bizarre that you regularly go out at midnight and stay out until 7 AM.

It's bizarre that you have brunch with your friends at 3PM because you've slept all day.

It's bizarre that you get into arguments over which is the best restaurant on Avenue A. And no, Two Boots doesn't count.

It's bizarre that even if you live alone you actually share your apartment with New York's finest rodents. I once impaled a rat with a stiletto that I was wearing. I'd like to think that he was on a suicide mission.

And it's really bizarre that without exception every single one of your friends has a therapist and / or has an eating disorder and / or a has coke habit and / or smokes too much weed and / or has no savings account and / or has attempted suicide and / or has herpes.

All of that may seem bizarre to an outsider, but it's what New Yorkers call home.

Yeah, people speak about the glamorous, "Sex and the City" New York, but no one ever mentions the other New York. The New York where despite the fact that you're making over $60K you're still struggling financially and mentally to get by.

The New York where you spend year after year in the rat race and it amounts to nothing. You're still single. You're still broke. You're still stuck in that dead end job. You're still not famous! What ever happened to that novel / album / band / screenplay / photo exhibit / dot com start-up /performance piece / film you were working on?

You still haven't paid off your student loans. You still need to lose weight despite the fact that you belong to Crunch but you don't actually go. You drink too much (for an American).

You still hate your apartment. You're still jealous of the friends of friends who have somehow managed to achieve some sort of stardom. You're still unhappy, but in too much of a rut to do anything about it.

Despite all that you have illogically convinced yourself that you still love New York you wouldn't live anywhere else.

And Londoners wonder why I left?

Falling asleep in the Middle of Masturbating

Falling asleep in the Middle of Masturbating

Wanda and I just got back form a mad trip to New York. Everyone keeps asking me if I got laid. Sorry to burst your bubble, but no, I haven’t had cock or any sort of action in at least 3 weeks. I haven’t even masturbated in at least a fortnight.

Yesterday evening I tried masturbating and I was so jet-lagged that I fell asleep in the middle of it. Woke up with a smelly hand.

So yeah I’ll officially label my sex life as boring I hope that doesn’t put you off the blog. But it’s swings and roundabouts. I have had a few offers. I dunno. I should take them up but somehow I’m wary. I’m debating whether or not I should hook up with this hot girl who’s been MySpacing me.

Even though I’m unemployed I’ve been so busy doing stuff. Most of the stuff I’m doing are housework things that I have neglected from when I was working really long hours.

Fucking American Express suspended my account because they don’t believe that I make over £100K (or at least I did when I was employed). I spent most of today faxing them financial data to prove that I’m not laundering money, or whatever they think I’m doing.

I’m getting ready to go on a trip to South America. In my mind’s eye there were 2 weeks between the New York Trip and the South American trip. In reality there’s like 5 days. So I’ve been sort of freaking out in getting everything in order before I leave again.

Being that I’m unemployed I should probably be financially wise and NOT go on vacation. Then again, I’m horny and I need a tan. Somehow financial prudence has gone out the window.

So I say fuck it, you only live once!

Sex with the TV Presenter

Wanda and Anjelika Chat about...

Faking Orgasms
Haunted Pubs
Je T'aime - the Mucky Sarah version
Sleep vs Sex
Lesbian Sex?
Sex with the TV Presenter
Debate: Would Iain Lee be good in bed?
Sex with the man you love
From friends to lovers

The UK's #1 Sex