MR. BAD GUY (ENGLISH VERSION)

LIFE IS REAL

He was aching all over. Legs, face, nose, wrists, ass. And that stiffness would last a few days and it was an extension of him between his legs. When the stiffness began to ease, such a great feeling of desolation overcame him, that every night he remembered one by one all his movements inside that lift. The roughness of his hands, his deep voice, his fiercely blue eyes, his blonde razor-cut hair. His way of fucking.

He beat off each night thinking only about him. He treasured his torn underpants as though it was his engaged ring. As though it was a beautiful memory. It was not already about brutality, chauvinist control, disrespect. It was his ass available to get fucked whenever he wanted. Not even a moment he thought reporting to the police. It was a rape and that's how he felt much of that sexual act but after he'd experimented it wasn't easily explainable. Never anyone before had fucked him under threat. Anyway, his sexual experiences of any kind so far have been countless. Enough to knowing the difference. Nothing about he'd been through was ordinary.

Since then he refused to meet Leoni in her flat. He tried to meet in his place or anywhere else to not visit again her building or of course taking that lift.

But after two weeks he got a call from Leoni and he couldn't resist anymore. It was needed getting back to normal or he would drive crazy. He could live on the building or not. There, there was a dentist, acupuncturist and a lawyer. He could attend anyone. Or like Enzo, just visiting. He didn't have to live there.

He climbed up till 7th floor to Leoni's flat, as many times before. In certain way it was like returning safe and sound after a long journey. He was ready to take off his shoes and put his head on his favourite german's lap when he saw what he couldn't imagine.

None other than his dreamed rapist in lively chatter with Leoni. He came up to that idyllic scene with suspicion in his eyes. Leoni introduced them. He was called Lars Fellner. So beautiful name as himself.

- We know each other -Lars rushed to say shaking his hand tightly. His legs almost bend instantly.

- Oh, really? Where, apart from the movies?

- It was in the lift, just a couple of weeks ago. Tell her, Enzo.

Enzo? What the hell was it all about? He didn't feel like improvise nothing in front of Leoni. But a pair of eyes waited for his explanation.

- Oh, well... I was loaded with something that I've bought in (he thought supermarket but he knew Leoni would never fall for this story) in a boutique just across the street. I tumbled down and fell to the floor. He was so nice to help me to pick everything up.

His gaze could freeze Sahara desert. It didn't fit well with his positive comment.

- It was my pleasure -Lars added smiling.

Then he saw other smile. That one was rather flirty. He knew the insolent, the evil, the shameless, that was different. He supposed he had a lot more.

- I thought he didn't help me. He has that perfect unpolite and bighead look -he added smiling.

He couldn't describe how was Enzo's smile, but everything but flirty. Lars read between lines, his cold eyes narrowed an instant.

- Well Lars lives at the fifth floor. He lives there since a couple of months ago, did you?

Leoni asked him and he nodded not looking away from Enzo's eyes. He was shamelessly indiscreet with that body language and Leoni would suspect if he went on this way.

- Enzo, would you like a beer?

He accepted the invitation as he took off his beautiful tartan coat. Lars watched each one of his movements very closely. Trying to get away as quickly as possible and as far as he could from him on the sofa. Lars tapped by his side inviting him sardonic to get closer, funny and expectant. Enzo tried to speak up the minimal indifference and he made disappointment grimaces.