First Time in Paris (Complete)

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. ………………………………………………………………………… I managed to go out from there among the people through jostles and shoves, I had a portentous hangover and actually I wanted to go sleeping again. But I knew that this day we are going to come back to Germany and I hadn’t visited the popular “cementière du Paris”, actually I didn’t have time to visit everyone, but at least I had to visit the cemetery fo “Père Lachaise” where I could find the grave of Oscar Wilde, Chopin, Balzac, Jim Morrison, Edith Piaf, Delacroix, Max Ernst, Moliere, Proust, Asturias, amongst others. It was a little complicate to get a good explanation about the way to reach the cemetery because at this time wasn’t my French very good like nowadays and the French people didn’t speak another language than French. It was so difficult to meet somebody who talks English. Here I could establish really what said already a good friend of me, Juan Carlos, that the French people think that everything in France is the best around the world, their cooking, their country, their culture and of course their language. Finally and against my wish I got in the tram till the station “Pére Lachaise”. The cemetery lays immediately after going out the entrance of the tram station. In the corner came upon a seller of postcards, she was American female who hardly could speak French. I was coming her and asked her: - Are you American? - Yes I do – she answered me with a friendly smile. We was talking a while till came a girl with black cloths, as though she would be a punk fan because she moreover dressed tie shoe. She wanted to buy a postcard of Jim Morrison in his tomb and expressed it with a foible voice and almost shy whisper in French. The American female smiled only and repeated persistent: un euro, un euro. It was clear that she didn’t speak the language and the girl with the dark clothes noticed it too. - Si je te peux aider, je le ferait enchanté – I said her intervening in the situation – je crois qu’ elle ne parle pas la langue. - Clair, je compris – she answered me - bien que je croie que toi non plus. In this moment the American female started laughing as though she had understood something about the words that the dark girl had said me. Well, whatever it was, I found the situation funny too and I laughed together with her. - Viens tu òu? – I asked her - De la Normandie, et toi? - De Perou, est que tu a écouté un jour sur mon pays? - Oui, naturellent, J’aime Perou. - Et, qu’est –ce que tu feras maintenant?, je veux aller à le cementière, peut-etre nous voudrions aller là-bas ensemble? - Oui, pourquoi pas? - Je m’appelle Oscar, et toi? - Je suis Louise. We went in the cemetery while we talked about our lives and personal matters. She told me she fell out with her boyfriend and for this reason she finally was there, because he earlier, when she was still with him together, wasn’t able to leave her home city. We came to the grave of Jim Morrison and I noticed that this grave for her had a especial meaning because it was seen her nervous when we were approaching there. Around the grave were a lot people, mainly American people who looked like old hippies und put down flowers on the tomb of the singer of “The Doors”. - Thanks Jim, thanks so much – started saying loud a fortyish girl – you gave my life a meaning, a significance, everything that I’m at the present day I owed you, thanks. - Merd, cette meuf est insupportable – said Louise – Jim ne devait pas avoir fait beaucoup pour elle. - Attention Louise, c’est possible qu’elle parle la langue. - Allons donc! en tout cas, ça m’est égal, en plus, cette Américaine viennent solement pour baiser, ils sont aucune intellectuelle, ils sont traînée. - What did you call me fucking frog eater! – said the crazy and wintry aged American female – I wanna kill you, I wanna kill you! Welcome to the club, she understood French. We spirited away and ran out of there laughing and seeing diverse grave of various artists, taking pictures next everyone and every odd place from the cemetery. ( Unfortunately I keep still from every pictures only a picture that we took with the grave of Edith Piaf). I went out talking about the some artists whose existences in many cases were miserable and absurd. I could see her wince in her eyes, the emotion and happiness in every part of her body animated my interest and wished to continue the talk with her, I got satisfaction of this. We went to a Restaurant to eat something and of course to follow talking about everything that was coming into mind. I knew that it wasn’t right what I were there, I should be with Liver and C together, because they wanted to come back to Germany and maybe they would be thinking, after they would have noticed my absence, what the fuck? Where did he go to? But, to be an honest, I didn’t care. They could start with the comeback to Germany and just abandon me in Paris, without money, without accommodation, I was at the mercy of them. But it was all the same to me, Louise got bewitch me, every logic in my head was simply dissipated. - Look at the back – said me – there is a piano, I would give everything to listen a piano piece now, everything! Since a long time I hadn’t played the piano, a practice that I used to do in my adolescence when my mother encourage me to play a piano to get listen the piano piece of Richard Clayderman alive, a pianist that she loved a lot. Then it was my moment, I wanted to impress her, and I had the opportunity and the talent to do it. I started playing “ Honesty” by Billy Joel, my fingers were wobbly, like a butterfly whose wings have been done ash because of the hardness to touch them. Nevertheless my interpretation was well-disposed and good praised when I finished playing it. I didn’t dare to see at her direction because I was fear of being scoffed by Louise, whose voice I wasn’t able to realize in the middle of all the persons present in the bar. Somebody puts a bier on the piano like a pay of a good moment, maybe for him it was an improvised feast that I spread in the air managing that he forgot problems and gifted a piece of time in which he only was able to fly. Louise took the initiative in view of my clumsiness and seated down next to me like a pained goodness, her alabaster skin gleamed and her knees kissed each others. - No one had ever sung a song for me, nobody, and in this circumstances, like a recital – said me Louise in suspense, showing her eyes as though they were a lighthouse over the sea. I had no time to answer because in just this moment the hit of a heavy presence interrupted my idyllic abstraction, above all because this presence was something that I knew very well. - You fucker! What the hell do you think that you are doing there? Are you dumb? C stood before the entrance door and came up to me threateningly. - Damn it all! You had no clue, that we today early in the morning had to make for Germany, didn’t you? – C said in German. - Be quiet C I was just ready, I wanted just come back to you, before I returned to Germany I wanted only visit this cemetery in where so many popular artist were buried, that is all. - You were just ready? You were just ready? Well, I see the things completely different – said me ironically staring directly at Louise. Louise, who looked like confused, stood up arms akimbo and looked at me inquisitively waiting maybe for the explanation that I wasn’t able to give her, because there was no explanation possible, everything was obvious, although it wasn’t yet. Fuck! what complicated are sometimes the things. - Que-est que passé à la nana ici? Est- que tu le connais? Est elle ta copine? – asked me Louise. - Oui et no, merd! Comme est que je te peux expliquer…- answered nervously. - Pouquoi? Tu n’as pas besoin de le faire, je comprends tout, je voulais y aller de toute façon égale – said me hard. In my life it was one of the few opportunities in where I just saw get slowly away something that I wanted absolutely retain for me, she was by all means anyone. When she walked on the entrance, she turned around me and blew on me a kiss with the forefinger and I could read her lips saying, “Adieu”. I returned to the youth hostel with C together. On the way we talked scarcely anything. When we are coming in the hotel I could see Liver with arms akimbo and with an expression of don’t satisfaction. I spoiled our timetable to come back to Germany, my irresponsibility and passion for the writer that I admired and whose graves I under all circumstances wanted to get to know, put us on a difficult situation and at risk, it doesn’t exploit the day and to take a room in an hotel even for a day, which it would mean that we should spend more money. Silly. Liver stood on front of me, with tense face and jittery hands and said me the following. “You! You are the most unreliable person that I ever knew, why did you do it? Why?” I kept silence. It would have been useless saying something against. I actually deserved it. When we were on the road to Germany, we slowly started talking again. Liver was not a resentful guy and I noticed that he wasn’t angry with me anymore. With C was different. We stopped at a gas station in the middle of the nothing to buy feed and drinks. I preferred sat down on a lawn close to there. Shortly afterwards appeared C with a coke in the hand and sat down on the same lawn too. She was on the lookout for me, but furtive, as though she followed the flight of a fly that flew in my way. - Are you always so stupid like today? How dare you doing that? You don’t have any excuse, you have lucky that we didn’t abandoned you in Paris, and it only was due to me- said C severe. - Could you please stop reproaching it? I know, I put it on, but it’s over, don’t grumble on, I fed up of yours blames. Liver appeared in this moment with food in the hand too, he seemed pleased that we appearance had reconciled with each other. - It’s crazy the feeling here, for a considerable time I cherished this idea, the gas station in the middle of nothing involves the on the road feeling, as though it would be a fog bank that moves about freely without a unknown aim – said Liver indulging. - Yes, that’s right, you are right - answered C – it is a good place to give a rest. - Yes, a good place to make up with somebody – added I smirking. We laughed as thought we were close friends, the strain was maybe dissipated on the road, in this rough body that contemplates a thousand driver over its back every day and whose feet are different and equal in the same time like an hermaphrodite. - Obtuse mind forgot adjusting a telephone booth in this place, I feel like calling my ex-boyfriend in this moment- said C - And, why do you want to do now?- asked Liver - Because I would like to tell him, how much I feel like to fuck now- said C with the half open mouth. Her words got me turned me on, somehow I was reminiscent in this moment of the soundtrack’s Amélie, because, in the same way like the incompatibility between music and plot, her behavior and her words were idle. We drove on towards Luxembourg because Liver wanted to use the occasion to full up the tank of the car here, the oil prices apparently were there cheaper than in Germany. I was so absorbed in a chatting with C that when Liver announced that we was arriving in Luxembourg I stayed surprising how the time pass by. Luxembourg lies on a steep hill that, like a grumpy monarch together with his cohort of legend and transparent , from there to, looked at every vassal on the shore of his sovereignty to try overcoming the height, behind which are situated the rich secrets of his forebears. Liver parked the car on a terrace where there was already others bad parked except for Liver, who showed thereby his idiosyncrasy of Norwegian: well-ordered even though none requested it or had waited this conduct. We went to the half-empty streets in search maybe for panem et circenses or something similar where we could let the matter rest. We bought two wine bottles and sat down in front of the city hall. C told us that somebody was obsessed by her and she was constantly annoyed with letters of this person. As a consequences of that she had with lightning speed her address and just in case her telephone number. Nevertheless, after a short time, she missed this feeling, to be chased. Liver opened his eyes wide and didn’t move of his place, it was visible that he needed help to go out of this surprising feeling. I gave a nudge in his arm and gave him in the wine bottle. - I once read about that, tell me, it’s true that the first feeling of the molested person is disgusting but when this person stops doing it, is the feeling rather sexual requirement?- I asked her. She giggled with night cap eyes while she sucked her cigarette. Her sleek body cut the background and her gesture showed flatly the confirmation of my assertion. - Didn’t you know that everything being fun is either immoral, illegal or make you fat?- she said flirty. Liver, actually an honest man, maybe overly honest to love, turn pale when he got to know it. Rapidly he suggested to go to buy more cigarettes even though he didn’t smoke. C found the idea terrific because she was situated in a highly strung condition and to hold this feeling she needed not only wine but also cigarettes. Liver was up to go with me to buy it, meanwhile C stayed there and waited of us. I was busy drinking up the wine bottle and actually I didn’t want to go nowhere. - Come on! It’ll take only a couple minutes – he asked me- let us go to do it, alone is depressive. I came grudgingly along, I had no break, he didn’t say, but I thought that if I didn’t go, he could leave me stranded there. When we were on the way und turn the corner, Liver pushed me on the wall and, like somebody who wants to keep quiet about something, told me like a rumor. - Hey man, I have a problem, I need to do something, but I don’t have the courage to do it, you know, I need help!- said Liver with torn open eyes. - What’s matter man? Don’t worry, everything has a solution. Well spit out and let us see what we can do then- I said him trustful. - I’m falling in love- he stammered. Trying to explain the situation would be as useful as a hole in the head, in this way, because of the picture of the situation it only remained me to say the following. - I’m sorry man, but I’m not a jock strap snoop, but a fucking lingerie savorer , I love pussies! I dream of chochas! I yearn for cunts! – I said him, nervous that he didn’t believe me. - What do you say asshole? I don’t mean you, but C, I fall in love with C. - Aha! I see man – I answered lightened – but, I don’t know what place it is of mine to crash the party? - What? What are you getting at it? You are Latino, you know what I can do to have got it. - True that! I’m Latino. I had no idea how I could help him, this stupid reputation about the Latinos that we were professionals in the love affairs got in my nerves. So what? I had only a tactic, to talk the girl, take her, try to kiss her and enough! Basta! In this way I was so successful like unsuccessful. In case of need I grope everything that I could like legs, tits, belly and abdomen, and if I had lucky the pussy too. - Well, what am I to do?- asked Liver on. - Maybe, blow your feelings in front of her? - No, no, I don’t want to be so direct, it looks like as though I wouldn’t want to her. - Yes, but you want, don’t you? - Yes, but it is a secret. - I thought that I was the expert. - Of course, but the secrets ought to seem so until the arrival of the right time. - And when would be it? - Soon. - Alrighty! This point is done. And now, do we buy more wine? - And cigarettes too. We came back to the place where we had left waiting to C. She talked with anybody and it seemed that she delighted the conversation. It certainly didn’t like Liver who went quickly to C and the acquaintance. He was an American who lets down temporary in Luxembourg. One of the typical pain in the neck who hangs a lantern on himself saying what great is he and his country. A gadfly person who thinks that his country is the best visiting card around the world and with which they can pick up every woman. The saddest about this story is that in so many cases it is true. Some Women tumbled on the floor, shortly after they heard the word “United states”, this nationality has a exuberant and tempting power over women. - He is David, he is from Utah United States- said C. We greeted him, Liver did it reluctantly. We had apparently no problem with him, for this reason we let stay with us and the most important thing, drink our wine. When we were a little lubricated, the American, according to his style, started blabbing. - Yeah men! we could do a party here, in this fucking park Liver took it down the wrong pipe, above all because he saw him like a rival in love that he as fast as possible had to diss. He would have loved to put him over his knee, I was able to see it in his eyes, but he reserved every sign of chagrin and grudge. - Have you ever anybody seen who gets down in the park?- said liver caustic. - Come on buddy, don’t be so Norwegian, take it easy, the life is beautiful – said the American. - The life is beautiful, but without you- answered Liver convincing. The American stared him deeper, his hate devoured him bit by bit and slowly he started to boil with rage. Liver’s idiosyncracy was not prepared to flare up a brawl, the people in Scandinavia are very pacifist, they don’t binge and don’t look for problems, no matter if they drink or celebrate something, they always are in control of everything. - Are you a girlfriend in the Usa David?- I asked. - Of course, a really chick, maybe twenty years ago wouldn’t have been so beautiful like nowadays, but with the immigration, very ugly people basically, she got with every day most beautiful than yesterday, in this way, the more immigration, the more beautiful she gets. C didn’t like this comment, above all because she was alien too. It was so inappropriate of him, dawn, what a common little hussy! He was absolutely tactless. Actually Liver is supposed to be afraid of him, because he messed self up completely. He noticed that and few minutes after that he said that he had into mind come that he had forgotten to turn off the electric stove in his apartment. A couple hours later we saw him with another group in the same situation. - David was drab- said C – the Americans guys are always identical. - You’re all right – said Liver. - Cheers –said I. We continued drinking, smoking and chatting until C laid on a park-banc and dropped off. Liver didn’t appreciate exactly what it could mean, because he started with the harass again. It was clear that he didn’t want to leave it in the lurch. - It’s time, it’s time, now What can I do to get her? – said Liver. - Initially, you shouldn’t have left that she dropped off. Tell me, what do you think that you or me could do with her now? She is in Morpheus’ realm. - Dawn! We have to wake her up, now. - No, what do you want to do with her now? She is drunk, and to tell the true, me too. I didn’t understand why he bugged me continuing with that and left it go at that. I wasn’t able to do nothing, he had screwed it up. Under these circumstances you can notice that you don’t have always a lot time to get a girl, the opportunity is wise to give you the possibility, but if you don’t do nothing over this short time, It’s going to go down like a lead balloon forever. Nevertheless I soon could prove that it is a usual male conduct, something that he early didn’t know, although my reader didn’t believe me. Like carrion eater were bit by bit appearing and approaching slowly to the bank on where C was sleeping. Disgusting men scuffed careful to the place of C, men who had the knack of leaving the lonely and whose only knowledge of moral was their compulsion to satisfy. Liver lifted her and go to the car direction. I tried to help him but I was so drunk that I had help me self. I remembered that I got in the car and I shortly after had a black out. When I regained consciousness we were on move somewhere in the highway and maybe on route to Germany. I was in the back seat and by me, on the one hand lying, was C. I had even alcohol in my blood and a hard appetite anybody to fuck. Without thinking I slid my hand on her leg and caressed it sweet and soft. I was hot and his complete lay body, unprotected and defenseless made my mouth water. Liver didn’t seem to notice nothing, he drove on the car into silence. I grabbed then her thigh and she suddenly quivered and turn around to me, our eyes touched in the air and like a door that is opened after that the key turn into the lock, she opened for me the infinite possibilities her acceptation through a wide and conspiratorial smile. I slowly got her jeans and briefs down and started to do the same with mine. I only got it until the knees because when I saw her vagina I went mad. Her vagina looked like a shy child with lip gloss and burning that expelled frost palpitation of breath. I turn her body around so that it lay on her back, I put my body over her in missionary position and penetrated her slowly. My movements were silky and thoughtful, like a cradle that the wind left on the move. It was fantastic the picture in the car, me and C fucking in the back seat and Liver in the driver’s seat calmly and comfortably driving the car towards Germany. Then is occurred. I was so hot that I gradually lost the composure. I took of her thighs and drew from there to me so that she looked like a baby whose mother took the pamper off and waited for getting the new one. I gave a little jump up and I rested my body upon her back of the thighs from the front so that both hollow of the knees lay on and over my shoulders. Then I started hopping. The sound produced between the contact of my pelvis and her vagina through the penetration was as though you would click your tongue, which perturbed the passivity of Liver at driving. - What the fuck are you doing asshole! – yelled Liver whereas he drew from my t-shirt trying that I stopped to fuck C – go down! Down! - No! stuff it! – said C with dizzy voice – go up! Up! - Fuck you! – screamed Liver – I said down! Down! - To hell with him! – said C – up! Up! - Down! Down! - Up! Up! I was in a messy situation and I didn’t know to who I had to pay attention. Down! Up! Down! Up! Actually I didn’t want to lost the friendship of both and looked for satisfying both too, for this reason I continued with the same dance: Down! Up! Down! Up! But a human decision didn’t solve this problem better than the fate. Because of a sharp curve Liver had to do a dangerous maneuver with the car what produced that I were “uncoupled” from her and were thrown against the car door. I sat down there with the head hung forwards, with the pants downs and with the wetted penis, full of the fluid of C. Then I flaked out. When I dawned again, I lay on a bed in a room that I knew, the place was dark and somebody talked out of there in the hall. I was even drunk and I had a terrible headache. Suddenly I heard that a door was closed and the light in the hall turn off. Then a silhouette came into the room without I could see the face, walked slowly until the bedside by the window. Thus, through the moonlight, I could recognize this face, it was C, she smiled me, and during this beautiful natural light advanced over her body I could noticed that she was absolutely naked.