REAL STORIES - CHAPTER XI.
(Some names have been changed)
That midday, summer, like almost always we left the office to lunch with Manuel and Ricardo, my workmates. We sat down at a table in the same old bowling alley and without looking at the menu asked for the dish of the day.
While the waiter was setting our plates with sorrentinos and pink sauce in front of us, Ricardo said:
-I, Juan, haven't told you any story about one of my girlfriends lately...
-I'm coming badly, it's been a while since I last put her out. If I didn't take her to pee, I wouldn't even remember she was there.
Manuel looked at me disconsolately, stretching to grab a fig.
-I imagined that; your silence is very incriminating.
-Crazy, why don't you get back on the phone chat? Something always happens there. -the Galician intervened-
-Yes, I swear it's true. I'm going to try again.
After returning from playing soccer, after taking a good shower and eating some rushed sandwiches that I bought on the way, I settled into the armchair accompanied by my infallible bottle of whisky and phone in hand, dialed the chat number. I won't bore you with the topic of presentations and all the things you have to go through to get in. After so many veterans, I was eager to hook up with a girl, so with the 43 credits I had at the time, I made myself out to be one of 28 recently arrived from the interior.
I had already drunk two whiskies and was serving myself my third when Adriana, 28 years old, appeared on the line. We started chatting privately after introducing ourselves, fortunately, and then we exchanged our phone numbers in case it got cut off... And that's what happened. I called her back and we talked for nearly two hours.
As I said, Adriana was 28 years old, had a 9-year-old son who was born out of wedlock, and had separated before he was born. She lived in Hudson -a locality I didn't know existed- and had described herself physically as brunette, black hair, very thin, and somewhat hippie. She had decided to... To enter the chat because since the birth of the child he had dedicated himself exclusively to him, leaving his personal life and affective relationships a bit aside. He could leave the dude with his mother on Saturday and go out for something to drink to get to know each other. I understood that it would be best to meet in the afternoon and we agreed that she would pick me up at 6 pm.
Saturday evening, a heat wave of slutty mother, Hudson Autopass, toll, descent, entrance to the town, and there she was waiting for me. I recognized her because she was dressed as I had been told: worn jeans and white shirt. I must confess that if I hadn't recognized her, I would have turned around and gone home to watch some football. She wasn't a brunette like she had said, she was almost mulatto, which didn't bother me, but the worst is that she was extremely thin, as I like curvy women with big breasts, this one had no ass or tits but did have a height that didn't exceed 55 inches.
Without much enthusiasm, I invited her to get into the car. After greeting each other, I asked:
- Where are we going?
- I don't know...
- Don't you know some place around here where we can take a coffee?
- No, there's nothing around here, this is a crappy town! We have to go to the Capital.
- But we're 50 kilometers away! -I protested-
- And if...
Things had started badly. With anger, I took the highway back to Puerto Madero. And to totally screw up the encounter, already on my way back, she made this comment:
-Ni en pedo fuck you, 28 years old...
- Leave it, don't give me any more than that, I already have a few.
- You don't go down from 36 or 37... -I thought she was insulting me-
- I'm 43. -I corrected her-
- Really? -she exclaimed, stretching the 'e'-. But then you're doing well.
- Thank you. And tell me...
Her phone interrupted us again. She listened to her son talking about something in the fridge and not to mess with the Pelopincho. The cell phone rang again during the trip, interrupting our conversation about trivialities like the tattoo of colors she had gotten a month ago or that she wanted to change the guy from college.
Finally we arrived at Puerto Madero and sat down at a table on the veranda in front of one of the dikes. There, more relaxed, we could talk more deeply about slightly more serious topics, although irrelevant to me. Already calmer, I could notice that she wasn't mulata or anything like it, but rather had spent long hours taking sun and had a spectacular bronze tan. Things were improving.
We repeated the round –coffee and whisky- and when night was falling, he took out his phone from his wallet for the umpteenth time to find out how the dude was. While he talked to the guy, I got up to go to the bathroom and pay the bill.
-'I've already paid, shall we go?' I said when I returned.
-'Yes, let's go.'
We got into the car, drove a few blocks, got back onto the highway, and he scolded me:
-'Where are you going?'
-'I'm taking you home' –I replied naturally-
-'Already?'
-'Yes... It's night now.'
-'I thought we were going somewhere else.'
-'Because I see you worried about your son, calling him every so often...'
-'He must be asleep by now.' –he interrupted me without letting me finish my sentence and giving me to understand that it wouldn't be a bother anymore-.
-'Well... Where do you want to go?' –I asked, expecting him to say 'to a hotel' and end the evening soon-
-'Don't you want to walk through San Telmo?' –she proposed, the slut mother!-
Twenty kilometers further down the highway, I could take the autopista again to return to the capital. I don't deserve anything less than ending the night with a decent screw I thought.
The streets of San Telmo saw us walking hand in hand and then embracing as we advanced between antique shops, street vendors, and artists. Finally, we got into one of those old bars where there was a sax duo playing. We chose a table with armchairs in a corner away from the crowd, ordered some drinks, and in the dim light of the place, I leaned my back against his chest. The music helped the atmosphere. I felt a gentle pressure on my back produced by his tits and his caresses under my shirt. I stroked... The legs and I climbed up to her bony hips. I turned my head towards her trying to steal a kiss that didn't hesitate to give it to me. I invited her with optimism: -Do we stay at home? -Yes, please. I thought you'd never propose it to me. CONTINUE.
(Some names have been changed)
That midday, summer, like almost always we left the office to lunch with Manuel and Ricardo, my workmates. We sat down at a table in the same old bowling alley and without looking at the menu asked for the dish of the day.
While the waiter was setting our plates with sorrentinos and pink sauce in front of us, Ricardo said:
-I, Juan, haven't told you any story about one of my girlfriends lately...
-I'm coming badly, it's been a while since I last put her out. If I didn't take her to pee, I wouldn't even remember she was there.
Manuel looked at me disconsolately, stretching to grab a fig.
-I imagined that; your silence is very incriminating.
-Crazy, why don't you get back on the phone chat? Something always happens there. -the Galician intervened-
-Yes, I swear it's true. I'm going to try again.
After returning from playing soccer, after taking a good shower and eating some rushed sandwiches that I bought on the way, I settled into the armchair accompanied by my infallible bottle of whisky and phone in hand, dialed the chat number. I won't bore you with the topic of presentations and all the things you have to go through to get in. After so many veterans, I was eager to hook up with a girl, so with the 43 credits I had at the time, I made myself out to be one of 28 recently arrived from the interior.
I had already drunk two whiskies and was serving myself my third when Adriana, 28 years old, appeared on the line. We started chatting privately after introducing ourselves, fortunately, and then we exchanged our phone numbers in case it got cut off... And that's what happened. I called her back and we talked for nearly two hours.
As I said, Adriana was 28 years old, had a 9-year-old son who was born out of wedlock, and had separated before he was born. She lived in Hudson -a locality I didn't know existed- and had described herself physically as brunette, black hair, very thin, and somewhat hippie. She had decided to... To enter the chat because since the birth of the child he had dedicated himself exclusively to him, leaving his personal life and affective relationships a bit aside. He could leave the dude with his mother on Saturday and go out for something to drink to get to know each other. I understood that it would be best to meet in the afternoon and we agreed that she would pick me up at 6 pm.
Saturday evening, a heat wave of slutty mother, Hudson Autopass, toll, descent, entrance to the town, and there she was waiting for me. I recognized her because she was dressed as I had been told: worn jeans and white shirt. I must confess that if I hadn't recognized her, I would have turned around and gone home to watch some football. She wasn't a brunette like she had said, she was almost mulatto, which didn't bother me, but the worst is that she was extremely thin, as I like curvy women with big breasts, this one had no ass or tits but did have a height that didn't exceed 55 inches.
Without much enthusiasm, I invited her to get into the car. After greeting each other, I asked:
- Where are we going?
- I don't know...
- Don't you know some place around here where we can take a coffee?
- No, there's nothing around here, this is a crappy town! We have to go to the Capital.
- But we're 50 kilometers away! -I protested-
- And if...
Things had started badly. With anger, I took the highway back to Puerto Madero. And to totally screw up the encounter, already on my way back, she made this comment:
-Ni en pedo fuck you, 28 years old...
- Leave it, don't give me any more than that, I already have a few.
- You don't go down from 36 or 37... -I thought she was insulting me-
- I'm 43. -I corrected her-
- Really? -she exclaimed, stretching the 'e'-. But then you're doing well.
- Thank you. And tell me...
Her phone interrupted us again. She listened to her son talking about something in the fridge and not to mess with the Pelopincho. The cell phone rang again during the trip, interrupting our conversation about trivialities like the tattoo of colors she had gotten a month ago or that she wanted to change the guy from college.
Finally we arrived at Puerto Madero and sat down at a table on the veranda in front of one of the dikes. There, more relaxed, we could talk more deeply about slightly more serious topics, although irrelevant to me. Already calmer, I could notice that she wasn't mulata or anything like it, but rather had spent long hours taking sun and had a spectacular bronze tan. Things were improving.
We repeated the round –coffee and whisky- and when night was falling, he took out his phone from his wallet for the umpteenth time to find out how the dude was. While he talked to the guy, I got up to go to the bathroom and pay the bill.
-'I've already paid, shall we go?' I said when I returned.
-'Yes, let's go.'
We got into the car, drove a few blocks, got back onto the highway, and he scolded me:
-'Where are you going?'
-'I'm taking you home' –I replied naturally-
-'Already?'
-'Yes... It's night now.'
-'I thought we were going somewhere else.'
-'Because I see you worried about your son, calling him every so often...'
-'He must be asleep by now.' –he interrupted me without letting me finish my sentence and giving me to understand that it wouldn't be a bother anymore-.
-'Well... Where do you want to go?' –I asked, expecting him to say 'to a hotel' and end the evening soon-
-'Don't you want to walk through San Telmo?' –she proposed, the slut mother!-
Twenty kilometers further down the highway, I could take the autopista again to return to the capital. I don't deserve anything less than ending the night with a decent screw I thought.
The streets of San Telmo saw us walking hand in hand and then embracing as we advanced between antique shops, street vendors, and artists. Finally, we got into one of those old bars where there was a sax duo playing. We chose a table with armchairs in a corner away from the crowd, ordered some drinks, and in the dim light of the place, I leaned my back against his chest. The music helped the atmosphere. I felt a gentle pressure on my back produced by his tits and his caresses under my shirt. I stroked... The legs and I climbed up to her bony hips. I turned my head towards her trying to steal a kiss that didn't hesitate to give it to me. I invited her with optimism: -Do we stay at home? -Yes, please. I thought you'd never propose it to me. CONTINUE.
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