Basureado por un deseo

This fictional account is mine, but it contains some real place names. I've already taken enough risks to be a free man, and here I am, living off what they could never take from me: dozens of thousands of dollars that I always look at with distrust, because they dragged me down a precipice from which I took 20 years to escape. I have scars on my arms and legs from my exploits, which can never be compared to a real exploit, since what I've done is earn a living the wrong way. My name is Guillermo Iturraspe, I'm 40 years old, and I spent two decades in prison for cumming with the lives of innocent officials, so they computed a double perpetual sentence and extradition to Argentina. My criminal career began in 1993. I and three friends, still immature, tried to illegally enter the central house of the Banco de la Nación, but our attempt failed and we preferred a more accessible target for our inexperience. So came the possibility of organizing an armed robbery at the Banco Tornquist on Avenida Rivadavia 8600, in Floresta, in May 1994. I was scared, but Lucio and José seemed like little guys who didn't hesitate to fire shots into the air to scare off customers. An old lady fainted when she saw us, and the custodian called an ambulance. The cashiers handed over 100,000 dollars, but before we left, a patrol car arrived and I shot five bullets into the chest of a sub-commissioner. We forced the companion out and took off in the car. I must admit that we were a bunch of trash for opening fire on the cop, but it could have cost us our second big score. We arrived at my house and split the loot. Lucio, with his mixed villager voice, told us I don't want to live in a ranch in Florida, now I want to move into a mansion in Olivos, you're a jerk. José was going to give his share to his mother so she wouldn't think he was crazy and finish the ceiling of the living room. I said I was leaving went far away, and that's what I did. A week later I was at Lester Pearson in Toronto, ready to leave behind a city that was driving me crazy. I took another plane to Halifax and lived there until July 1995, when Canadian justice decided to send me back for bad behavior. The reason: a solo robbery of the Bank of New Scotland for $500,000 and the death of two armed police officers. A state defender took up the case and accelerated my return process. By August, I was already scratching my hands on the bars of Ezeiza prison with those two convictions weighing me down after a record trial. The first 10 years received accusations from my brothers, who gradually stopped seeing me as that decent laborer, now converted into a senseless hat killer. I didn't speak to them again until I got out, but the relationship wasn't rebuilt and won't be like it used to be. I can read disappointment in their pupils. Mom died of depression and sadness after being locked up for a year, and that was another issue they threw at me. I received letters from my friends, but they ended up just like me. Lucio bought his mansion three blocks away from the Olivos estate, but it was taken away when he lost the annual tax money in the casino. The last time he said he was asking for coins near Puente 12. José died in a helicopter accident in Santiago del Estero on his way to a meeting with other businessmen. I found out about it through Lucio, who was the only one who got excited when they let me go. This place is so repulsive that the guards returned the money I had stolen years ago (I grabbed it, of course) and with that, I took my friend to live with his servant in a little house in Santos Lugares. But the reason for my freedom hasn't been told yet. When the 20th anniversary of my prison entry was approaching, I had to do some paperwork to show the judge that I was still behaving well and continued working as an apprentice at the herrería (blacksmith's shop). interns. I swore under oath and brought some colleagues to testify on my behalf, since that way, according to her, I would have a chance to reduce my stay there again. The first reduction took place as soon as I entered, due to the fact that the famous 2 for 1 was still in effect, so my sentence ended up being 20 years and two months, when it should have been 40 years. The indecent proposal emerged when her honor, Dr. Olivia Lastiri, wanted me to be her victim so she could decide whether to grant me freedom. The first dialogue between us took place after the last appearance. As for Manso and Bello, the pathetic guards of the prison, two old friends, were holding my wrists tightly, she asked for an extra-judicial conversation that would never be included in the government's files. I think they already knew what it was about. They joined hands with handcuffs and said to go to a distant salon away from the dining room. I thought the system wanted to destroy me because of my record, and although I had already asked for forgiveness, no one would believe me. I touched the door with my elbows while she made me enter. A small place, lit, without windows, and with soundproofing panels that isolate the sound. I sat down as she began to corrupt me with her proposals. I never doubted the professional qualifications of Dr. Lastiri, already her voice indicated she was a nerd, like I wanted to believe at 17 years old, but that wasn't the same thing. She was very direct, cutting through the silence and intimidation it caused.

- Look, Iturraspe, the pathetic guards told me you're going crazy here. I can help you.
- Are you going to help me?
- Yes, I'm going to help you.
- How? Are you going to contradict Argentine law, defraud known rights?
- Ah, old man, nobody cares about talking about that. Yes, I'll contradict the law, but no one will notice if it's not reported.
- And what are you going to do then?
- I want you to sleep with me today. I've always wanted to know what a prisoner's flesh is like.
- Ma'am, I don't... I make respect, even if I've railroaded three innocents, my body only belongs to me; I won't share it with anyone. - Don't talk nonsense, do you want? Let's have relations, or you'll rot here until the end of the year, eh? - Okay! But don't degrade yourself like that, ma'am. You studied this to make justice, not to sell out for a verdict. - No speaking nonsense, do you want? Let's have relations, or you'll rot here until the end of the year, eh? - Alright! But don't degrade yourself like that, ma'am. You studied this to make justice, not to sell out for a verdict.

As soon as I said these lines, she hit me with a slap and my pale skin was reddening, her excitement growing. She knelt down to take off my jeans and underwear, and almost as quickly, she swallowed my penis which wasn't even erect yet. I tried to cross my eyes with hers, knowing that if I looked at her fixedly there would be no turning back. She had to threaten me with a contravention in the record for me to want more to practice fellatio on her. She was watching me with her green pupils and shaking her brown hair slightly as she licked the glans with lasciviousness. Ten minutes later, I came prematurely. I apologized, since I never committed such a sexual atrocity before, but she said she used to swallow the fluid. Almost vomited.

She tried to take off my sweater while putting on the prophylactic with her teeth. She opened her shirt and showed her small-breasted white chest without surgery. She took a small key and went behind the chair, where she unlocked the handcuffs that had been put on me.

During the sex, she didn't stop repeating the phrase. “I need to feel a man's hands on my back” and I did. Her voice took me to unthought-of places, that level was seductive and maddening. I wanted her not to be quiet ever, since my ears existed to hear her technical language or vulgarity.

Seven days after the wild encounter, with Lucio behind me, we went to live in Tres de Febrero, promising the start of a clandestine adventure that wouldn't wear out. - I leave this topic for you to dance, enjoy, laugh or listen whenever you want.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JR8sZcVcYiY