Each book goes deeper, hitting your back against the wooden door covered in graffiti and signs of all kinds. Outside the bathroom, rock music floods the bar, drowning out every moan you scream. He's huge and tough, and makes a good couple with your blood pressure. His lips suck and bite your throat, making sure he makes a mark on it so you can remember him the next morning. Finally, your tongues end up in a dirty and desperate kiss, regardless of the shortness of breath.
"Oh my god damn it!" You scream against his mouth with your eyes closed.
"That's what I am to you, uh?" He laughs, pushing your body in need.
"Fuck your ego!" You burst out laughing, putting your legs firmly around her waist.
"No, fuck you." He responds with a forehand to your soul.
"Shit ... do it again". You beg to keep his gaze and feel the heat consuming you.
And he does. His cock pounding you deeper, enjoying the dry sound his abdomen collides with yours. As you kiss her again, you press your hands on the back of her neck, feeling how the tickling settles on your lower abdomen about to reach ecstasy. You don't care that he cums inside you, still taking your pill like every morning, so you don't say anything when his moans get louder too.
Your hips start to move, dancing on his cock wanting more, needing it. He already knows you're near, banging you faster on the door, thinking for a moment that you're going to destroy it.
"Fuck, Nestor... don't stop." You pretend to bite his lower lip, before letting him find your tongue with his.
Your purest, most natural moan drowns in his mouth, shutting your eyes tight and feeling like you're choking on pleasure, when he fills you with hot cum. A few strokes before, he lets you rest, pressing his forehead against you. Taking her chin with two fingers, you lick her lips giving her a tiring kiss.
By putting his feet on the floor to clean up all the mess and putting on your clothes well, he keeps the door open for you.
"Ladies First". He said with a triumphant smile, gesturing with his left hand, the same one a few minutes ago was between your legs.
"What a gentleman..." You joke about him as you walk towards the bar.
The old bartender, Tony, smiles at you as he sees the man returning to his table with his friends, as you sit down on the stool. Without asking, he serves two glasses of tequila. One for you. One for him. Cheering for the air, you both drink with the hot liquid that rips your throat. Shaking your head for a second, you stretch your right arm to pick up the helmet he offers you.
"Are you saying I need to talk to him," he said then.
"I go".
"It's good to see you at home again, niña. The elder leaves a soft, tender caress on your chin, leaving a kiss on your cheek.
Zipper on the chest, to adjust the leather jacket you wear the helmet before taking a last look at the man who improved your arrival in Santo Padre. You also didn't ask for her number, but it's a small town and you're sure you'll meet again sooner or later.
Waking up after all the shots you drank last night is an odyssey. You feel like shit, and you look like that too. Coughing and trying to clear your throat, you come out of your room full of boxes because of the move from Boston, where you were doing your last MIR in the hospital. The smell of coffee is everywhere in the house you now share with your father and uncle. You can rent an apartment or a house, but being with family is always better. Sitting in front of them, the two men open their eyes even more. Then they respect each other.
