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Compendium IIII never thought that Marisol would start 'thirding' her horns...+Hey love, it's for you! Sonia wants to talk to you! – she passed me her cell phone so I could talk to her.
I was quite surprised, given that Sonia could have called me on mine, but what's even stranger is that I recognized that coquettish bitten lip, which foretold something lustful...
- Yes?· Hello, my son's father! She exclaimed in a mocking tone. - I need to ask you for a favor. Bastián had a problem with his summer course and wanted to ask if you could attend the meeting with his professor.
Bastian attends a fairly special school that addresses the challenges of working parents. Recognizing the need for daycare in the summer, the school organizes courses directed by its own professors in January. These courses, focused on recreational activities rather than academic ones, offer a flexible solution to parents whose work schedules or vacations make it difficult to care for children. For kids like Bastián, these courses provide the opportunity to enjoy the summer with their friends.
- But can't Elena see those things? - I asked confused.· What a more irresponsible father you are! - Sonia scolded me in a mocking tone. - Now that my Ellie can finally go back to work at the office again, do you want to take her away from me once more?
And it's true, while Bastián was at preschool, Elena (his partner) decided to stay home, taking care of him and supporting his studies. Although to keep her employed by the company, Sonia assigned her to specific tasks related to information research, so she could receive a lower salary (for working part-time), but would allow her to return to work once Bastián became more independent.· No, Marco! - she continued with a more serious voice. - It was our Bastián who asked me if you could help him. Apparently, it's 'a men's problem…' - Oh, okay! - I replied, understanding the situation.· But... I just wanted to warn you about your teacher...- she said in that so coy and melodic voice like when she invites me to her meetings. – She was telling Marisol that surely... she “will be of interest” … and well... I just wanted to let you know.
By the way she told me, I wouldn't have been surprised if Sonia were touching herself while talking to me.
In the evening, we made love like crazy with Marisol, squeezing out the juices until almost 4 am.
And in the morning of Saturday, she prevented me from giving her a blow job, arguing that “I wanted her hot for the night…”
Well, I went to look for Bastián at his house, where Sonia was waiting for me with that so complicit and lascivious smile like when she teases me with her foot in her office.
- What happened, little one? – I asked, while buckling up the back seat belt.Ø I don't know, dad. Karen is my best friend and she splashed water on Lily and me - replied my kid. - And did you two do something to her? - I asked, while driving the school busØ No. We were just talking... - Oh, okay!... And why did you ask Mom to have it with me?Ø It's like you say, dad. Girls look at me differently... -my son replied. I think I felt a 'punch of empathy' because just like my son, at that age I didn't perceive differences between boys and girls. That is to say, according to my memories from that age, although I had a polola (being the youngest and having my brother and sister constantly talking about their pololeos, I couldn't help but convince a girl named Carla to be my polola), it didn't prevent Natalia and Lorena (kindergarten classmates) from giving me 'kisses on the cheeks', which at that age, I found disgusting because they left me covered in slobber. Besides, they lived interested in us playing 'mommy and daddy' with plates of sand that I had to eat, but never wanted to play cars or try to catch lizards with me, since although they were colorful, they scared them from touching them. But when I got to school, I found the reason why Marisol was so excited...
Saying that Bastián's teacher is voluptuous is a small thing. To start with, she's a redhead, with curls, clear eyes, and glasses, with a fairly pleasant face, but her body... I estimated her bust to be around 108 cm, at least, which were covered by a white shirt with buttons that, from a distance, made me imagine a tsunami on a sea of cum; her waist, although wide, went well with her body because her rear was rounded: if two enormous helium balloons were hidden under that dark tube skirt, it wouldn't have made a difference.Ø Hey Miss Cheryl! - Greeted Bastian his teacher, who was waiting for us at the school entrance.orBastian, where are your mothers?Ø No, Miss! I came with my father today! - exclaimed my young one, embracing his dear professor and rubbing his head against her delicious skirt, although unlike Todd years ago with my wife, my son was doing it out of affection. Yet, I couldn't help but feel envy... When I stood in front of her, I startled her just as much as she had startled me...orSo... you're her father? –she asked me, offering me her hand to greet, without even blinking.- Yes... my name is Marco... - I replied, captivated by that precious smile... and those succulent pair of melons, which I was trying not to look at.
Now that I think about it, I think we were acting just as silly as Doña Florinda and El profesor Jirafales in the Chavo del ocho, only with reversed roles.orAnd what about you...? - she asked, as she listened to my name and played with the tip of her hair. I told her my country of origin... But I insist: I'm a normal and average guy. In my country, there must be at least 250 people who look like me or look better than me. But this seductive 28-year-old teacher thought I was as captivating as if I were a creature made of vanilla ice cream. She started telling me she regretted that I had to visit her. That Bastián is a quiet, good, and responsible boy, highlighting that he's a positive leader in his class: let's say that while he may not stand out for physical aptitudes or skills, he's one of the first to act to resolve a problem, and that's why she was so complicated, since Karen, who was the girl causing the incident, had been a girl whom almost the entire class bullied because of her name (since today, a Karen is called a toxic and arrogant person), except for my son. However, what Marisol and Sonia didn't count on was that the mother of said girl was also a beautiful woman...
I won't deny that what caught my attention the most was her golden horse booty, which, despite being simple, did make her look attractive, emphasizing her precious face. Her hazelnut-colored eyes harmonized perfectly with her pink and slender cheekbones. Her thick and rosy lips needed no makeup. Her small and simple nose, like the rest of her, gave her something elegant in her appearance.But overall, you could tell she's a woman who puts effort into it: the impatience of her arms and legs, the quality of her clothes (a long black skirt made of fabric, a mixed-cotton jacket and a light blue shirt buttoned up to the neck, along with worn-out black heels) that seemed to have seen better days in the past.{ I hope they don't take too long... said the mother, looking at her wristwatch with impatience.
-I do too... replied I, surprised to see that Miss Cheryl's office was not empty.{ Who are you?Ø Karen! – exclaimed my son enthusiastically when he saw his friend. The girl was blond like her mother, with braided hair that started from the crown of her head, with many freckles, so I understood why the kids could tease her. However, upon hearing my son, she crossed her arms and turned her back on us.{ Karen, please, greet her! - the mother asked, touching her on the shoulder, but she wasn't reacting. - Little one, is that your friend? What did you do to her?Ø I don't know, dad! - my son replied, hugging me sadly. – She's my best friend. I don't know what's wrong with her...
But when he heard that, the little one shook slightly. Still, she maintained her stoic posture.andHe is Bastián's father. - Clarified Miss Cheryl.{ I thought Bastian's father had abandoned him... - the woman replied, confused and not thinking before speaking.Ø No, Daddy lives with Aunt Marisol and my sisters! – explained my son, a bit happier.
We introduced ourselves. Her name was Emma.
Since her daughter refused to talk to Bastián and Miss Cheryl had to wait for the third guardian, we started talking. She told me she was worried about the time, as she had to go to work in a little while.
If you want, I can take you in my car.{ I don't know if I should... replied with prudence. - Come on! Your daughter is my son's best friend! – I insisted, making the little girl turn briefly around.- Where do you work? Emma works at a newspaper in the center as a columnist. I thought she was a journalist, but she clarified that mostly she writes reviews of cooking: recipes, restaurant recommendations, and topics like that. I started telling her how my daughters are fans of sushi and how I had to learn to prepare it; the importance of condiments like onion, garlic, and paprika when cooking rice and taking notes on how to make a good churrillana, finally the third one arrived with her daughter.|I feel like I'm arriving so late! – the voice of a young woman complained, with an exhausted tone – Our driver couldn't find parking and Lily and I had to walk a whole block. By reflex and education, I got up. But I wasn't prepared for what I was going to see... Another woman, perhaps just as or even younger than Emma, entered the office...
Her long black mane, which fell in cascades, defined a new meaning for the word 'Glamour'. Perfectly groomed and radiant, it marked her social distinction at leagues. Her eyes, in dark brown tone, radiated confidence, charm, coquetry, and seduction. Her slightly dark and shining cheekbones were clear evidence of a woman who enjoys bronzing under the sun; her lips in intense crimson and the shadow of her eyes conspired with her flirtatious and lively expressions to captivate the attention of any man, like a siren calling sailors... Her dress, on the other hand, was exquisite: a sleeveless blouse and its short leather skirt left her slender waist and navel exposed, without falling into vulgarity, fitting in with her owner's style, who clearly knew how to enjoy life's good and elegant things. But her low height and the slight roundness of her body invited countless hugs, promising visits to darker and more private places...|Oh! Enchantée! she exclaimed as she saw me, captivated and pleased by my presence, smiling in a coy and perfect French tone, offering the back of her hand to greet. In seconds that seemed eternal and before her subjugating gaze, I had no other option but to kiss her hand, a gesture that took away a sigh...
With a coy attack of laughter, she sat down on the free chair left, blushing like a schoolgirl.
But it was Bastián's laugh that brought me back to the world of the living...Ø Papa, Mommy Lily isn't a princess! my son would exclaim, laughing out loud. It's not necessary to say that neither Miss Cheryl nor Emma liked my attentions...| My name is Isabella, and you? - She continued speaking to me in her seductive French, as if we were alone in the room. - Je m'appelle Marco. – I replied uncertainly, with the little French I remembered from school. Surprisingly, she repeated my real name perfectly, finishing off with a flirtatious: |Very sexy!!
While Emma crossed her arms and looked at the wall where her daughter was also looking, Miss Cheryl made an impatient gesture, as if she were waiting for us to finish talking.
But then, the third little one came in...“Look, Mom! It's Bastian! Hello, Bastian! - and the little copy of Isabella ran to hug my son. Then it was that Karen turned around and rushed at the kids...¶ Leave it alone! – screamed the naughty blondy.
That's how my son's first skirt party started...
After separating the kids, I could say that I was in the center of the Bermuda Triangle: if I looked ahead, Miss Cheryl is one of those women who can sit her breasts on the desk while working.
If I looked to my right, Isabella's mane and her eternal legs would devour me like the sirens of Greek mythology.And if I looked to my left, aside from Emma still being offended, by appreciating her profile, I could tell that Karen must not have gone hungry when she was a baby...orWell, the reason I sent for you to be called was because of this same thing. - began to speak softly Miss Cheryl - When the children went through the pandemic...|We shouldn't be here! - interrupted Isabella. That 'monster' ripped my daughter!{ My daughter is not a monster!...and at least, she's not as spoiled as yours… The situation was escalating and clearly, Miss Cheryl didn't have much experience with that… - Okay, ladies! – I said, standing up and raising my voice. – We're not getting anywhere by arguing among ourselves, because the problem is our children's. The women fell silent and Miss Cheryl looked at me relieved.andThank you very much! - she continued. - As I was saying...| My daughter has never scratched anyone! - interrupted Isabella again, burning with a gaze at Emma.{ Well, my daughter didn't either... but she met his and here we are...- Emma replied, on the verge of jumping into blows.
-Señoras, please! – I interrupted again. Then I looked at Miss Cheryl. - Can I handle it myself? My wife is a teacher too.
For the young teacher, it was a tremendous relief. But having witnessed hundreds of parent meetings, with dozens of administrators who never agree, I've learned a couple of things from my nightingale.
- Well, little one. – I said to the precious red-haired little girl who, again, gave us her back. - Could you tell us what's wrong?“Why is he asking her that? She's bad! She's a 'Karen'! - Lily interrupted.Ø Karen isn't bad! - jumped into defense my son.“Why do you say that? She's bad! It's horrible! She's a 'Karen'! Karen! Karen! - the little brat started mocking. But my son's attitude was simply admirable...Ø You're wrong! Karen isn't bad! She's beautiful... and you don't know it!
When my son said that, Lily fell silent and Karen turned towards us, with her face flushed...
- Bastián, do you really want to be friends with that girl? - I asked my son, pointing at Lily.Ø No, dad... I... And it was then that my son realized...Ø Karen, did you think I wanted to be friends with Lily? The little brat nodded with her bright eyes, on the verge of crying...Ø No, Karen! I already told you so! I like drawing with you, but you're running very slow... Lily is the fastest in the class.
Her words fell on my head like bricks...
- What? - I asked, unable to believe it. - Did Bastián stop playing with his friend just because she's very slow?
My little one nodded...
- Bastián, men's secret! - I said to him, looking serious, taking him to a secluded part of the office, although not necessarily keeping discretion. - You can't do that.Ø Why not? - ¡Bastián, when I was a child, I WAS the slowest, I WAS the one who didn't receive passes, I WAS the clumsy boy of my class! The news took my son by surprise. - Do you think I had no friends? I had hundreds of friends! And all of them, because they accepted that I ran slowly, that I was bad at sports, and because I couldn't draw. So, you can't do that. And while my son processed the information, I turned towards Blondy... - ¡Karen, I'll give you a lifelong advice! – startled Bastián's friend. – Kids are stupid...Ø Hey! - my offended son complained. - We do a lot of things: we play soccer, draw, cook, and watch TV. But it doesn't mean you don't want to be with me or stop being my friend if a kid doesn't want to do something with you. You have to understand that we have many friends and like doing different things with them. And if you want your friends, you also have to want the friends of your friends. And finally, I ended up with Lily… - Lily, if you want to be Bastián's friend, you must be Karen's friend.“But she's ugly! - Not at all! I replied in chorus with my son. - Lily, what if Bastián goes to your house and says your things are ugly? That your dog is ugly. That your bed is ugly. That your house is ugly Do you want to invite him to your house again?“No, but... - 'Bastian wants Karen!' I interrupted, raising my voice. - If you say Karen is ugly, Bastian won't want to be your friend.“But she's a 'Karen'! - the petulant little girl insisted.
Okay, and if I were called 'shoe', would that make me do it? A shoe?
The little girl didn't understand...
Your name is Lily, right? - the little girl nodded - Do you know what a Lily is? It's a plant that lives in water!
I loaded Google and showed her the photo of the plant.
Are you a plant?“No.
- Then, Karen isn't a Karen … I could tell you were understanding me…
- Do you even know what it means to be a Karen? I asked, preparing the final touch. – A Karen is someone who bothers other people and makes them feel bad. If that's the case, you're more of a Karen than Karen is.
Finally, the little girl was left speechless, noticing she had reason.
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When I told Marisol, apart from laughing out loud, she said my only mistake was insulting the girl by calling her a Karen, and that I raised my voice, which could get me in trouble with her parents.
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Since mothers and teachers were staring at me in awe, I consulted to normalize the atmosphere.
- Bastián loves reading most of all. Does anyone here know how to do it?Ø No, Dad! The only one who can read is Sophie and she only reads romance stories. - my son replied, ending with the same expression Verito makes when eating beetroot. It's clear that the faces of the girls were impossible, because there was a third rival they hadn't considered...
After that, we didn't know how to take it...
It didn't take more than 5 minutes for the kids to understand their mistakes, so the teacher thanked us for our time. But their mothers and the teacher looked at me intrigued.
The safest thing is that they won't invite me to those gatherings again.
However, Emma did accept my arm when I offered her gallantly to take her to work, which annoyed Isabella quite a bit.
But on the way to leaving...Ø Do you know? – I heard Bastián tell his friend. – I would really like to introduce you to my sister Pamela. She draws as nicely as you do.
After hearing that, Ema and I looked at each other, smiled, and... there was something...
But if they ask why this story is called this, it's because my son is a fan of reading Archie comics... And in those life ironies, his favorite character is Torombolo (Jughead), who apart from eating hamburgers, is known for living off women...Next post
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