Typically Ron will not approach a woman himself, preferring instead to send one of his merry men to do his dirty work for him while he watches on, flashes a toothy smile and offers an arrogant wink in their direction.
He gives the impression to the majority of women he has liaisons with that his ability to speak English is limited. Actually, it’s not, it is simply selective.
He is entirely able to hold intelligent conversation, but becomes conveniently verbally disabled when being confronted by a scorned woman at which point everything becomes “que que que” and “I don’t understand”.
He sent his main man Rogerio to ask me where I was going after the club and if they could all come and have a “sexy time.” I politely declined, offering instead to give Ronaldo my number if – and only if – he came and asked for it himself.
Entertained by my unwillingness, he eventually did before loading what can only be described as a white limousine party bus full of giggling girls and retiring back to the Beverly Hills Hotel with them.
He texted messaged furiously until two days later I agreed to meet him.
I have an incredibly male approach to sex and this was a game for me. He was a toy and this was a show. I wasn’t interested in wooing him or winning his heart. In truth I wasn’t even attracted to him. His shorts were SHORT, his top was TIGHT and the pink colour of both was…just not for me. As soon as he encountered my German Shepherd dogs and started screaming and waving his crutches at them in total panic and fear I realised perhaps this wasn’t going to be Mr Right.
You might well be wondering, why did I do it then? The only explanation is that while I wasn’t attracted to him, I enjoyed the fact that he was so taken by me. Some sort of power trip, I suppose. Soon after entering the bedroom, I did indeed catch sight of the REAL Ronaldo. Now, while a lot of women appreciate a well-endowed man, this was just RIDICULOUS…intimidatingly so. “Oh for God’s sake”, I thought, “let’s get this over with”, although I wondered how long that would take. Not long was the answer…perhaps he was having an off day!
He touched base with me on his second vacation to Los Angeles which saw him “hooking up” with my friend Paris Hilton – someone he later told me his mother disapproved strongly of and he didn’t care for.
His appetite for women is insatiable. He boasts of sending group text messages when among friends to women saying “Hola bebe, I am thinking of you” and seeing how long it takes and how many replies he receives.
He also talks of allocating time slots for his women to “skype date” with him over the internet. One of his latest conquests was the American socialite Kim Kardashian.
On occasion I saw a softer side to him though. Like when he spoke about the death of his father, and how sad he felt that he did not live to see the luxuries he is now able to provide for his family.
Or his mother’s battle with cancer and what he went through with her, donating £100,000 to the hospital he credits with saving her life.
These moments were, however, few and far between. They left me confused as to who he really was. Was he a womanising egomaniac or simply an immature kid with too many “yes” people around him and a lot of growing up to do?
I was happy to entertain hours of late- night conversation in a quest to work this out. But it became hard work. Receiving up to 15 messages a day from him, it was exhausting trying to please him/entertain him/keep him satisfied.
VERY Inneresting! This definitely paints him in a very different light than what we expected!
Seems like there's certainly some issues behind those gorgeous eyes and seksi little pout! Ronnie isn't used to not getting what he wants, and Jasmine wasn't feeling him!