Fortunately Simon arrived in the moment in which Tom indefinite usually extinguishes his cigarette and put my hand in my pocket for another.
He stood in the doorway, looking at us smiling. There was something special in his eyes, looked at us like a child ready to blurt out his latest prank. But Simon was no longer a child, at least in the body, and if it was a prank, there were two beautiful breasts and a half ass. Not to mention
began to walk and the show was somewhat grotesque: it was not very graceful in ambulatory rather, it was awkward. Making it short, it seemed that he had taken up the ass.
"Simon, but what the hell are you?" - I said calm and resigned.
"Oh, it hurts ... the pea pea!"
Tom began to laugh hysterically. Not that he grasped what it was, but knowing Simon, he had sensed that there was to hear a bizarre story.
"Ok, what have you done now?" - I said, father and ready to listen to everything.
"Well, nothing that ..."
“Simon?”
“Ero arrapato…”
“Tu sei sempre arrapato!”
“Oh, Cristo! Vuoi venire al dunque? Ho bisogno di pettegolezzi, io!” - Questo era Tom, la peggiore comare sotto i trent’anni e di sesso maschile che potesse esserci in circolazione.
“Dammi prima una sigaretta…ed un goccio di caffè e…non ci sarebbe qualcosa di alcolico da metterci dentro?”
“Dovrebbe esserci rimasta della tequila, ma non so se col caffè ci sta bene.”
“Ma sì che ci sta bene!”
Comprendi le cose solo quando le vedi. In that moment I saw Simon
pour the Tequila in coffee, drink it, make a face of disapproval, to light a cigarette, aspire to full and exhale slowly. All with a smile, the skin of his face relaxed, fluid and precise gestures.
He was fine, peaceful.
not he realized, perhaps because he was too good to be normal and talk shit, and it made me feel good too.
"Then, last night I was at that troiaio ... what's his name ... ah, yes: Ultra-Babes. I was quiet drink and smoke, looking asses, a busty clung to a pole lap dance ... the usual routine. At some point approaching this lady has had almost forty years, asks me if I can sit at my table. I look for good before answering a troione! Christ, it was a leopard puttanone! Start talking about crap, but I see I do not listen. I see the neckline, the full lips, the slit of her skirt and start to think. She comes forward with talk of more and more hot and I did not start to feel more in his underwear. Rum, a round, two, three, the fourth had his tongue in my mouth and the burrito I peeked behind the ears. "
now four cigarettes were lit and the scene again with the sock full story of Simon. It was morning, maybe at lunch time, not that it mattered, we were there, stories to tell, yet to be disposed of booze, something started to do - crack -.
"Yes, but what the hell has this to do with the fact that you walk with his legs apart?"
"And it's waiting cock! Now get there! I said, that made me horny, cock it and bring it in the bathroom of the room ... God, fuck! When we finished I could not stand up. Then, I readjusted a bit but I feel something strange, like wet ... it was blood! I thought - fuck, I have this background, which I've got pea-. I ask her if everything is fine, because I see the blood and she replied that everything is fine and that is mine. "
" Embee, what the hell happened? "
"The thong!"
"What, - the thong -?"
"I was so horny that I put a sheep near the wall, I lifted my skirt and I dodged her thong to do before ... but it was lace! I slashed my cock back and forth, rubbing against the lace! "
The rest were various anecdotes and laughter," life ", you say.
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