The telephone keeps ringing, mixed with the rubble of the masons. Sink deeper into his head and tightened around the temples against the edges of the pillow soaked with sweat. The masons are called for a lunch break, spring ice axes and chisels, and are approaching the foreman of the yellow container. The ringtone sounds louder, bouncing like a ping-pong table along the dark walls of the bedroom and you can not escape because the day has already found you. But it is not the telephone, is the bell that has tone of the phone, and then think of the hostess and the expiry of the lease at the end of the month. Open the door, but do not like her at all.
I was not scared, nor surprised. I knew it was you, I imagined it so intensely that I had traveled to his side the whole road from Mary's house to number 24 of Via della Luna. I even felt the pressure of the finger on the doorbell of the house just before the trill. I had even hoped for, I only expected what was inevitable. We remain as two strangers who do not know the words for the occasion and left her there, the door of the door. I walked slowly towards the room and leaving me on the bed, pretending nothing: my cock.
Not a word.
The chiaroscuro of the bedroom takes care of its forms, leaves the finished, molded, clearly draws the contours of his chest and casts the show on the walls of his shadow puppets. E 'in those boundaries that now I find my limits, beyond there are only covered by a tightening bites too many nights in the filtered light of memories.
The study, in the twilight of the room. There is no innocence in his eyes: on the contrary, a shadow of perversion that holds tension in my body and amplifies the senses irrationally. Pull your upper body far back and put his elbows on the table of the desk, the line of breasts under her dress and quickly sketches a little farther on, a little more gray in the plot of acetate, the tip of the nipples slightly expands the silk seems to take game for his safety. I want to, its stillness leaves no room for any alternative and does not permit the escape routes. I must be his, now, now.
me, I am there, in the reassuring warmth of my bed, back against the wall. And with every beat of passing time on the hands of a clock wrought iron hanging somewhere in the house, I feel the urge moods such as electrical cables in the lower abdomen. The air is filled with acrid smell the same smell that just before I left on the sill of that apartment on the top floor.
breathed a sigh of relief and reached for the bedside table in search of the package
Fortuna. While fumbles in order to find a lighter buried somewhere under a pile of books, beer cans, boxes of anxiety and empty packets of cigarettes, I remember the pack of condoms hidden in the bottom of the second drawer. The package is finished with 6 for quite a while, the last condom have rejected a month earlier to simulate having sex with a cashier who had sent me hard.
- Do not turn the ...
- Why?
- Why has nothing to do now.
I file away the cigarette and she leans over her lips without pressing too much. Then slightly open and a strip of moisture that moves right and left wedged in the corners of the mouth. Comes out and goes down to the neck, back fast to the cheekbones and then stops the eye: we are reflected for a moment and then I kissed him, my world. Her kisses come and go and whisper to each strong thrust, moisten the ear cavity and only stop for lack of space. I try to participate by sliding the hand, but she stops me.
- Still, do not move ... - I said, reset near the back.
Falling further down, I unbuttoned his shirt towards the insertion of his trousers. There is not even an inch to be discovered, so she keeps because she wants to leave a vacuum behind it: that you take only the crumbs, the sluts.
We fucked like a cat, purring and humor mixed with saliva. Held the land after the needs, hidden the other the little 'intimacy.
- Wait ...
- What?
- Take off your shoes.
Here we discovered the heart tissue, disinfect the wound with sterile gauze to our emergency room. The hands do not let go, his hands were glued to the resin and the resin was sweaty skin. The smell of sex to break down under the covers and blankets was the regular demands of every pleasure.
- You can plan ... so ... Now you feel.
Sometimes cold. Cold feet uncovered, cold meat on each piece of carelessly slipped past the end of the blankets.
And then my lips on her breasts and her lips on my chest, long legs, those long strips of finite territory to conquer fatigue. Waterloo, or rather the Alamo, we have not given a reprieve. I expected the offensive to defend barricaded, found an opening on the left side and slid quickly along the coast of his back.
I have taken from behind like a coward.
Then leave the smooth muscle, moods limited by the lattice, the rest of the senses drugged as it was the end. We stayed on the bed and I seemed to see the precipice. And we remained silent as the fish in deep cover. And we
surrendered, just in time.
remain motionless, fixed tile rough in the bedroom. Horizontal stripes filter from insulated steel shutters. I drop the eyelids on the pillow and am looking forward to the end. The madness will come, sooner or later, to surprise us naked.
0 comments:
Post a Comment