They would never fool him again, but that night it was a little late to play the macho part. The Ribeira Club was full of sensual sticky girls. His laughing friends, who had taken him there as a challenge for his virility, had already run away, but he did not remember how nor when. A blood test would have revealed that Salvador could live with pure whisky running in his veins.

Due to his clouded sight, he was only able to distinguish the girls’ curves as a garment of the highly colored landscape of lights and exuberance. They knew exactly how to use their tongues and kissed him once and again, while suggesting activities for the hours to come. He tried to look indifferent, in order not to let them know he was failing to keep his balance.

Would his friends see him act with such dignity, they would definitely not laugh at him the way they used to.

He thought it wise to drive home while he still remembered how he was called and where he lived, trusting in his good driver sense and praying not to find any breath test on the way. There was a good thing about that all: she was too drunk to be scared. So drunk he did not even notice he had not left that pleasure self-service alone. Of course, he did not even notice she letting herself rock smoothly on the back seat of the car all the while. He did not notice that she got out of the car with him nor that she had climbed the stairs behind him. He managed to close the door without looking at it, just with a clumsier than usual tap of his heel. She was already in.

He was home at last, still on his feet and able to think a little. He had won. Now what was it he needed so much…? Ah, yes!

He went to the toilet mechanically and pissed as if he hadn’t done it for a month. The bedroom was nearby. He went there with vacillating steps. He could not stand the heat. This air conditioned is bullshit! -he thought, unaware of the fact that he was trying to turn it on with his mobile phone-. He tore his clothes off and fell on the bed downwards in all his length, with a groan tat climbed his throat from the very pit of his stomach.

In the meantime, she had made her own analysis about the eccentric single’s little flat. Kitchen and living-room shared room, canvas chairs and non-curtained windows. No pictures, one mirror, two turtles, three cinema posters, four old videotapes and DVD armies that filled a few shelves.

There was only one more room apart from the bedroom: a little study where all books evicted by the DVD were having a good time and more DVD lied, all of them presided by such a clean Mac that it even gleamed with the light of the room at the front.

It was a long time since he had been heard. She went to the bedroom silently, as she used to. That masculine naked body was a real paradise. Even backwards, the penis sticked out between the two half-open legs. They already had two things in common: she was wearing no clothes and while she approached, something also longer than usual, aroused by instinct, approached with… her?

No, they did not always speak about her in feminine.

Was that sleeping soft-buttocked guy anything but an invitation? Well, nobody would pay her for the job, but at least she would not miss the opportunity to help herself. When she sticked it deep inside, the man moved only a little, then nothing. Maybe he was used to it, after all.

She entered, felt the warmth of the body and let herself go at the same time. Salva, that got flooded, was courting for a really unpleasant awakening full of nasty discoveries. She had done a thorough job but was not still satisfied. You must never miss the sucking part. She started rhythmically, non-stop, with little movements at first, more intensely afterwards. Those fluid exchanges drove her crazy.

He, still uncounscious, looked as if he wanted to react. Turned upwards suddenly and upwards he remained, with open arms and legs.

And there, squashed under Salvador’s ass, she died, the last and more voracious tiger mosquito of the season in the Baix Llobregat.

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