Skinny Dipping Stories in Argentina

It all started when Tan (some Canadian chick I met in the bunk above me in Buenos Aires at some hostel) and I met up again in the city of Mendoza and decided to look for some adventure. Building a repertoire of skinny dipping stories hadn’t crossed my mind…

We walked out onto the palm tree-lined street on a humid Summer day and walked two miles to the Mendoza Inn: some grimy hostel that Tan had stayed at the prior night (before I arrived). She had met some Europeans and invited them to scout adventures with us…

The Mendoza Inn had a shitty pool in a shitty courtyard. In a few days, I’d be fuckin some French chick in that shitty pool at 5AM in front of the entire hostel staff, another unplanned achievement.

I’ll tell you about that later.

The point is, Tan’s two Europeans waited outside that shitbox hostel for us, and by the time we got to them, I had to wipe a billion beads of sweat from out my eyeballs to make out their physique. It was fuckin hot; maybe a million degrees. 

One of ’em was a tall German dude and the other was a tall Belgian chick. They both towered over me.  I’m 5’9. Apparently Europeans are ten feet tall on average. The Belgian girl wasted no time before she said impatiently:

“But first I would like an empanada und achtuwally da place fer empanadas iz right der”.

This chick was goddam hungry and mad about how long we took to get there. She hated me. But in a few short hours, we’d be making sweet skinny dipping love… whatever that means.  

So we went to get the fuckin empanadas but by the time the empanadas were ready, the German dude said he had to hang back cause he was going to Salta and had to pack.

Now it was myself, the Belgian girl, and Tan. Tan says:

“Do you two want to go to that lake in Pot–poetra–propo–Porto… whatever, that lake we saw by the front desk?”



Us three hopped in a cab outside the empanada joint, headed to the bus terminal, and bought a ticket to go to Potrerillos, a small lake town that was advertised all over at the hostels.

Two hours later, we get off a stop too late and have to hop over some fence-like thingies and backtrack a bit to get to where we were tryin to go, but I’m only tellin you that cause I want you to know that along that walk, the topic of sex came up…  Probably cause I brought it up.  But I was quickly dismissed when the Belgian girl said:

“I like der tall black guys.”

“Me too,” Tan agreed.

Hmm… I’m not a tall black guy.  The mission just got harder.

Make this moment count, dammit.

We got to the lake, but it was surrounded by a sea of mud. “Fuck it, let’s just walk through it,” I said to them.

Then came the quicksand… FUCK.

My foot sunk into the mud up to my knee.  I fell down. There was nothing but quickmud surrounding the lake.

“Abort! Abort!” I said to them.

So we tried to get to dry land but it just kept getting worse. I didn’t want these chicks to think I was some kind of American pussy, so I kept my cool. Everyone already hates Americans… gotta not freak out… gotta not freak out…

I freaked out.

We were all covered in black crusty mud by the time we got to the water. Nobody was in sight. A small enclave of yummy blue water was only a few feet from us.  

“Should we go skinny dipping? For you know, a good story?” I asked.

“Ohhh de writer wants a good story?”  The Belgian chick says.

“I’m game,” the Canadian chick said. She was aching to show off her body to the world. Which is totally fine.

“I stay der an watch.”

Hmmm… I think to myself, is one chick good enough for a good story?

But before I had time to second guess myself, Tan was naked; clothes gone; no hesitation.

She jumped in the lake and I dive in after her.  Ahhh…. So refreshing. I could drink it it was so blue. But then I reach down under the freezing cold water…


Oh no, serious shrinkage. It was still shrinking.


Skinny Dipping stories DON’T WORK with shrinkage. WHY DIDN’T I THINK OF THIS?

Tan was already getting out of the water to dry off as my cock was retracting into my stomach for safety. I can’t get out, I thought. This will be all over Mendoza by this evening. Backpackers are a small town, even when everyone is heading in different directions… You always see them again.

So I stayed in the water forever, embarrassed at absolutely everything. Fuck skinny dipping. I’m never doin this shit again. I looked at my towel. It was so far away. They’d have me in clear view for a while before I could cover myself up! 

So, I made several comments about how cold the water was, hoping they’d get the point. I couldn’t stop thinking about Seinfeld.

AI had to get out. I was dying in the freezing lake. It was like 57 degrees. I couldn’t stay in there any longer. It was getting worse and worse.

This is gonna be bad.

Tan was already dry, toweling herself off one last time, not in any rush to put her clothes back on, waiting for my reveal.

“Are you gonna stay in der forever?” The Belgian girl asked.


I stayed in the water, completely petrified to do anything.

“Throw me the towel!” I said.

“In there, hey?!” Tan said like a Canuck.

“Yeah, why not, hey?” Even in moments of terror, I couldn’t stop making fun of her silly Canadian accent.

So, she threw me the towel, but it fell short…

It was too far away, like… I’d had to walk a buncha meters to get to it and I’d be exposed. Oh man, I’m using the metric system. I must really be fucked in the head. They probably think I’m embarrassed about my junk. Oh man. I’m suing shrinkage.

Ready? 3… 2… 1…

I got the fuck out–shrinkage exposed–lose balance, cock out for all to see, and nearly fell back into the lake as I tried to grab the towel before I fell back again.


They laugh. Oh man. Now I gotta do that shit again?

VROOM! I get out and wrap the towel around me. Now I just had to put my fuckin bathing suit on… But they already saw it all. My life is over. Now I gotta drop the towel and put my trunks back on. Trunks? Am I talkin British? Jeez… I’m a mess. Maybe I’ll just keep the towel wrapped around me while putting on my bathing suit. After skinny dipping? That’s just fuckin pathetic.

So, I dropped the towel, scrambled as I put my bathing suit back on, and pretended like nothing was bothering me.

I had to do SOMETHING to redeem myself. That’s when I saw a big cliff that hovered over the water a buncha feet away.

“LET’S JUMP OFF THAT CLIFF!!!” I said like a moron.

They both said no, but I handed Tan my phone and ran over to the cliff and jumped into the lake and swam back to shore screaming:

“Come do it with me!” Desperate to erase that horrible memory from everyone’s mind.

But it wasn’t enough. 

I had to do more. 

That’s when I saw the big kahuna cliff; another cliff a buncha meters away; a staggering hundred or so feet in the air.

“I’M GONNA JUMP FROM THERE!!!!” I said like an insecure dipshit.

That’s when the Belgian girl said, “I’ll do dat.

“You will?”


“But you wouldn’t jump from there?” (pointing to the cliff I had just jumped off of)

“Der isn’t high.”

“So you’ll only jump from high?”


I thought for a moment… Now I was scared. The cliff was high. Me and all my dumb ideas…

“Fine. Let’s go.”

So we got up to the top of the cliff.

“Wait”, I said. “I just need a bit of time.”

After thirty minutes of me nearly peeing myself, I realize that if I don’t jump from this fucking cliff soon, after all that’s happened, I would never live this down. I was digging my humiliation deeper and deeper. Goddam skinny dipping idea…


She grabbed my hand.

“THREE, TWO, ONE—Wait… On one?  Or after one?”

“Three, two, one, JUMP—and den we jump.”

“So we jump on jump?”


“Okay, ready.”

We jump.

After ten thousand high fives, we got out of the water and dried off. Then the Belgian chick said:


I’m thinkin, maybe, but we’ll probably just take the bus…  But it was 7:30PM then, and the last bus back to Mendoza left at 7:00.

We had missed it. SHIT.

We were two hours by car from the hostel. It was desert hot and we had only a tiny bit of water and no food. I hadn’t hitchhiked since I was a teenager, but now we were left with no choice. So, we stuck our thumbs out.

And guess who picked us up?

A FUCKIN BUS! Some random bus. That’s just how shit works there I guess.

Later that night I ask the Belgian if she wants to have sex. She says I’m not her type.

I say ok.

The next morning she texts me and says, I’m right by your hostel.

I say, so what?

She says: Should I stop by der?

Sure… Whatever.

We get food and hang out in the park.

“I’m horny”, she says.

“Thought I wasn’t your type?”

“But now I’m rethinking it.”

So I fucked her in the bathroom at the hostel I was staying out–or maybe she fucked me. First thing she did was pulverize my ass with her fingers, but this is gettin too graphic for the blog. My grandma might find this… But yeah. That’s one of my skinny dipping stories–well the only only I have except for what I’m about to tell you…

…Before you go ANYWHERE, I should probably tell you the story about fuckin the French chick in front of all the staff members at the Mendoza Inn. That’s a fairly good story.

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