That girl from Syria

So yesterday I went out.

The streets where filled with people, everyone drinking whine and beer and coctails that look as terible as the headace they produce. Lots of gay couples also, because today was gay pride parade.

Now I went to the Pony-Bar, nice little Bar in the hip quater of Berlin, cheap drinks, good music, the people there maybe a bit to cool, but I could just bear that. So I went there to meet a good friend of mine, and after waiting for each other for more than half an hour (I sat outside, he was inside and had no more batery for the phone), we finaly found the other. Had a beer or two, and a shot of wodka, and after some nice talk went to a club. Now don't ask me how they call that club, but it was in a great location, an old polst-office from 1850 or so. 6 Euros to get in was quite ok, and there we met a friend of ours, that was with a group of arabic people, showing them the nightlife of Berlin. I imediatly noticed a beautyful longhaired girl. She was not tall, but everything on her was firm, beautyful roundet, she moved like she knew her body well.

So I checked her out, first talking with some of my frieds, so I don't seem so desperate.

So we then talked a bit. She is from Syria, from Damaskus, and stays another weeek here in Berlin. Some sort of a journalist-exchange-program, something I would love to do myself.

Well, I asked her a bit about her country, because honestly I dont know anything about Syria. Not that I care that much, but it's a good ice-breakter.

So we talked, then we danced. She was a ok dancer, not the greatest in the world, but honestly, the music sucked quite a bit. So we had another drink, and went dancing again. She danced better, closer, and showed me some affection. At some point we endet on one of the padded walls next to the dancefloor, and danced realy, realy close. Her crouch was on my thigh, and to the rythm of the music she was moving herself. I was moving myself as well, but it seems that it is much easyer for girls to have sex with your cloth on. Well, she wouldnt look at me and would kiss me either, wich was weird, but since her movement was quite direct, I didnt care so much. Well, after some time she either played an orgasm or had one, not that I cared to much. I was hoping to get lucky, maybe I could take her home, get some satisfaction myself.

I didn't. She suddenly told me that she had had to much to drink, feels tired and wants to go home. No I don't need to bring her she told me.

She looked very guilty. Maybe back in Damaskus there was some Syrian guy waiting for her, maybe it is a cultural thing that I don't understand - I do think it is the first, because she wouldn't kiss me.

So that evening was as close as I ever got with a syrian girl, but if they all look as beautyful as her, I shure like to get closer with one oneday.