It was in the afternoon, after our last german-class from the month in the Volkshochsschule, that I walked together with a fellow student from Norway, Liver, through the Bergheimstraße to the Bismarkplatz. He came to Heidelberg for vacation and he wanted to take advantage of this occasion to learn on the german language. He hadn’t another interest, he didn’t want to study in Germany like me, who sought doing a postgraduate study by laws. Like everybody he was disappointed about the days in Heidelberg, because by all appearance it wasn’t like he had thought it. He felt like doing a horse of another color.
- What do you do the next week – Liver asked me – do you go on the vacation or you stay here in HD?
- Actually I haven’t plans for the vacation week – I said sadly – I guess that I’m going to stay here to learn.
The true was that I was completely broke and I had face up to it bravely and stay home.
- And What are you gonna do? – I asked him.
- I go to Paris, I have never been there and I think that now it’s a good chance to go there, you known, Paris is near to here and until I come back here again it’s better if I visit the big city now.
- Do you go to Paris? – I asked him almost speechless.
- That’s right, at the beginning I thought that it would have been good if I stayed here to practice and follow studying the German language. But after that I considered a sad idea don’t go to Paris from here to still more when I had my car with myself.
- Do you have a car by you?- I almost screamed because of the impression of the news.
- Yes, I do, I came from Norway to here with my car.
Suddenly I felt a shame perception as though I were only a scarecrow, a blunt clown, somebody without personal materialization, that is to say, simply shit.
- Actually – followed Liver – inclusive in this way I’m not sure, because to go alone is a little silly, but on the other hand, as I said by you, now is the only opportunity to do it, because, after this travel, I have to start to work in a music company in Norway.
My hope was a dead loss, I assumed that my die was cast, maybe I would go to Paris, but I thought that this day wouldn’t achieve successful.
- Do you want to go to Paris? – asked Liver me and changed my life forever – I mean, if you don have another important thing.
- Are you kidding? – I reacted inappropriately, but “to hell with it” “ to hell with the formalities” it was Paris – I’ m prepared to go to Paris every time, it doesn’t matter if I have to do something.
- Great! – Liver said me with this typical Scandinavian cheerful without mock and happiness, as though he would be finishing to taste a salmon with wine.
We started walking in the direction of Die Hauptstraße when suddenly I met a friend from Iran, C, who was at that time already 8 years in Germany and studied Biology. I met her sometimes to practice German and she practiced with me English ( at that time fluid, nowadays absolutely rusted). She looked like every woman from Iran, big eyes with pitch dark hair, thin like a fad and curious like an epigram. I was in a high condition, so I didn’t doubt ask her about the travel.
- But, I don’t have any money, I’m current stony broken – said me C – but next week I get money concerning a job.
- But you don’t pay! – I say her – he has a car and he drives in this way anyway. Come on C! it’ll be very funny.
We agreed each other join up at 9:00 A.M. on the main station in Heidelberg. The next day Liver came with C together at the Main Station. They didn’t packed a lot things, only a bag and a little bag pack. The Auto of Liver was a Sedan, grey color and with a big and strong radio. We left Heidelberg behind us and while Liver and C talked about easier and faster way I saw with the head on the glass how the streets stayed behind us and the buildings showed their frontages as though they were a big foresail.
- We are coming to Paris – said Liver – we are near the gate number 2 of the city.
Effectively it was so. The curious thing for me then was that I couldn’t see nowhere the famous gates described by Victor Hugo. It was sad to start up admit that the sign of Paris which I had built and conceived was absolutely false. The traffic jam was horrible in the surroundings of the city. During waited that the jam slackened we felt that from the sides a sound like hornet arose threatening to crash our car. It was produced by a group of motorcycle. Then I found strange that every driver of the motorcycles were Arabs. Nowadays I can understand very well what I saw there. Actually the saddest present of the city that has already stolen my heart forever.
The next problem come immediately: no place to parking the car. A line of cars in every street without place to use for Liver’s car. We drove from street to street round on round 3 hours without we finding anyplace. Finally we found a place in the yard of the church dana-picassa in the junction from Rue Monge and Rue de Bernardins and near here, there was a youth hostel, “ Bureau de voyages de la jeunesse”, where we got into for 2 nights. After that we took a shower and changed the cloths we went out to walk on the street. It was the first time and it had to be absolute especial. We drunk a coffee in the Café Brasserie in the Boulevard Saint Germain , where we asked someone to take a picture of us ( unfortunately I lost this picture) to immortalize the moment. Afterwards we walked on till the river Seine. From then on we could already see the church of Notre Dame with its magnificence and decoration that penetrated in the eyes from everyone who stood in front of it. We took pictures here ( unfortunately I lost this pictures too) in several postures and with different forms to gesture and gesticulations.
- Do you know something – said Liver at a moment in which C was contemplating the big cathedral – I like C and I would like to get her like girlfriend, help me please.
It was very impressing and still more because he said me it with certain hopeful that I could right do something for him. Nowadays I think that he hadn’t idea what imposing he looked like, the suction of his blue eyes and his posture with 1.90cm, true impressing.
- Of course Liver, I’ll give it one’s best shot.
I wasn’t able to say another thing, I wanted help him, but what would happen I couldn’t have foreseen not even in my worse nightmare.
We were walking all the day and once that we finished to see the places of interest in the city, we come back at the youth hotel to take a shower and go out again to drink the wine that we bought with a strange predilection on a store whose chef was a guy from Pakistan. At the night we went out from the youth hotel, one by one, Liver had the bottle in the hand and I turn on the first cigarette of the night. We sat down on the shore of the Seine, C in the middle of us who dressed shorts and a white blouse. On the Boardwalk of the river there was a lot groups of people who sang with a guitar or simple chattered enjoyable.
- Cheers – I said my pals – to us! And our first time in Paris, the light city!
To remember it in this moment these words sounds ridiculous, but there seemed to have palate for me, moreover Liver and C accepted to chink glasses with me. The time passed by and the wine and the cigarettes broke our repressions and gave us harmony, solidarity, and of course, madness.
- Do you know what’s the problem with the German men? – said C with certain effusiveness – they have power in the mind but considerably less in the dick.
- Hahaha – I laughed loudly – I have it heard, but is not possible that every man in Germany is bad in bed, it is outrageously.
- You have to believe me, it’s true, and that is the advantage that I have over you, I can take, feel, catch and touch a dick, an experience that you couldn’t get anymore.
- Ok, stop telling it, I believe you - I said a few angry about – although I think that it has to exist an exception, but I could say, you have experimented it firsthand.
Liver stayed quiet. I think that he was involved because of our conversation because he was Norwegian and they had the same reputation. Then C turn on the side towards Liver and I stayed behind her. Liver started talking her about his life in Norway, the problems with his parents because of his love for the music, the bad experience that he ever had in every relationship and the incomprehensibility of every women that he had tried lo love, on my part, I was busy drinking the wine bottle and smoking my cigarette with great delight, because, what’s matter! I was in Paris.
- My last girlfriend said me – told Liver – that I had a contempt way to understand the word enjoyment. After that she didn’t never answered the cell phone again.
- Fuck bitches – C said Liver – forget this whores Liver in the world there is enough girls, and you have not to forget, you are Norwegian, do you have an idea how many girls would like to get married somebody from Norway? Don’t worry Liver, you’re going to find somebody, and somebody very beautiful.
I think that it wasn’t a riddle for C and she knew what would possibly happen, but it is only a conjecture that I had then. I stared Notre Dame with rupturing holding on from the bottleneck the wine bottle and bearing the night Parisian in mind. I don’t know where from, but I suddenly felt a violent and high-strung sensitive impetus that filled my body with wish to experiment new things and forbidden happenings.
I poked slowly my hand into her pant and touched the insinuation of the crevice of her derriere making little circles on her skin with my ring finger. C continued talking with Liver trying to simulate the job of my hand although I could perceive her shake an vibration which hit and got rid if her in my intention. I wanted to be romantic, delicate and tactful, but my excitation was very hard to wait a lot time to satisfy my requirements.
- When du manage touch the heart of a girl – C said Liver – you’ll see what easy everything happen.
- But, what do they want? – asked Liver – I have ever given everything that I was able to give them.
In the midst of this conversation I checked out more and more the intimate parts of C. In a audacious decision I left jump up my hand over her buttock till her tame and obedient line of her vagina, it was another beginning in our friendship, a new haven for tonight, an adventure that steered me into the unknown.
- You are special man Liver, unfortunately it’s not visible for the women, they needed time to see that, for this reason you have to try to tempt them in any way, like a spider, and I ensure you, if somebody got fall in your cobweb, won’t get go out of there.
Meanwhile the wine was over, I had only jabbed her pussy two times und we had already to go home because all store in this time were closed and it was impossible for us to find wine to follow the party ( at that time we didn’t know the Pakistan-stores, which abound in Paris and are known because they normally worked all night, how I shall put it! We hadn’t been there so far). I stood heart-rendingly, to go too long, so far away for nothing, I didn’t want to come back in the youth hostel, it was incongruous, it was summer and everywhere you could see people on the riverbank that either almost died laughing or absolute overcome by the moment while they hoisted a brew, I didn’t want to fritter away my time on a bed sleeping whereas the life walked out there flirty, coy, so easy and soft like a little spoon that slowly dive in a yogurt, so frenetic like could be a jongleur in the purgatory.
I staggered ahead during my head swam feverishly. I felt that humiliating to gain knowledge of quitting this edenic moment to go back at the hotel. Finally I had to put up with the situation and I must sadly go to bed.
I laid on the bed in a room with thousand people together, as is the custom in almost every youth hostel in Paris. In front of me I heard a couple unscrupulous, unrestrained, unbridled and incontinent fucking that I had problems to think that everybody in this tide room was sleeping.
- Öh, öhh, öhh, … - moaned a girl in English – don’t stop, don’t stop, I kill you.
- No, no, je ne peux plus supporter – said the man in French - je me viens, je me viens.
- No, dawn, not yet, not yet !!!
This sounds were alluring and excitant. I was so prurient that I had masturbated myself there if I hadn’t thought that I, like the Frenchman that the American fucked, had a female in order to attempt the sin-taste too. I pulled myself together, I stood up again and I went to the next room, to the girls and of course to C.
I sneaked in the bed of C without finding at the beginning resistance, actually some caresses were replied to as though she would have been waiting me. Nevertheless she wasn’t Potiphar and her first excitement changed in a crude refusal.
- Que-est que tu crois que tu fais trou du cul? – said somebody while he took me from the shoulder – toi, du balai!
The fellow was a worker of the youth hostel and he kicked me straightforward out. For all my begging and entreating, I did not ménage to gain entrance once more. The last possibility for me was the Liver’s car. I’m Peruvian and for that reason I gave me few hopes to find the car open, because I know how the Peruvian people close their cars, with extreme measure of security, but Liver wasn’t Peruvian but Norwegian and it was an generous advantage for me. I tried out to open the door of the car and hallelujah! The door was open.
I fell like a log on the backseat and dropped off.
Only somebody who was sometime drunk can understand how delightful and pleasant is get sleeping after a jag. In my drunkenness I could hear tiny sounds that came from the distance like waves, echo sounder, tides of voices that looked for stimulating me, tearing from my sleep condition to obligate me to enter in the reality again. My eyes were half open and even so it was enough to notice what was happening outside.
- Tu conard! reveille-toi! reveille-toi – screamed a group of old people out of the door of the car.
They knocked the window glass of the car as though they would slap flies or somebody would play a drum roll.
- Que-est que passe – I said sleepy and shattered yet – je ne faisais rien, c’est erreur.
After that I sat down orderly what was happening there. Liver parked the car in the courtyard of a church, specifically on the doorway of the church with what the entrance stayed closed and blockaded for the parishioners who want to attend to the Sunday’s Mass. (to be continued)
