What will my mother When she hears (Story Erotic-humorous)

Blame the whole mess was Juan Carlos Alcaraz. Although he, at heart, not suspecting that he would assemble.

I know Juan Carlos for many years and have never known exactly what he did.

-Business-once told me, with a false smile an income statement.

That day should have sensed that something unusual was happening. The telephone rang in a special way, as an urgent telegram in which some letters overlap others.

'You're a lucky guy, big drop, at first, the voice of Juan Carlos.

I knew it was him immediately because he is pleased with the substantive mortify fat as a barrier film separating the white man, he, Navajo Indian, me.

-Guess who you'll meet today ... Juan Carlos was monologue, while I, with thick lips, cursing those early-morning call as Celia Lacambra-A! The same! How about, uh, gordazo lucky?

Like a fool, I looked at the clock. The ten ... So it was unlikely that he was still asleep. It would be a joke Juan Carlos. The hypertensive risers, you know ... Cleared his voice.

- Celia Lacambra, you say? Does the presenter of Radio Spain? Automatically asked, trying to sort out my ideas, each one on the floor due to her.

- The same! You have not said many times that you would give to meet her little finger? Well there you have it! Uncle Juan Carlos I has succeeded.

-Let me get this I replied as I panicked preceding recruit certainty that the shots you hear are real. You've got me an appointment with Celia Lacambra.

-Almost-Juan Carlos I interrupted. I managed to interview you live on your program people with something. You have not won the prize of architecture do not know why? Well, that, because you have something. At twelve o'clock waiting at the station for the interview. Remember that the program is live ...

I heard no more. I wanted to go back to bed, as when he had exams at school.

-Must have fever, I said, to justify myself.

Although the thermometer prayed that he would come as Martin Bahamontes (those years of school!), He was nailed to a contemptuous thirty museums with three. Meanwhile, I just wasted five precious minutes. I hurried to get dressed.

A seven to twelve had arrived at the station. Not knowing that these things were tardy, had to wait a quarter of an hour, in which a young lady with gum jeans and told me it was a matter of seconds and a lame guy took me to a parlor, a place microphones, slightly larger than a bathtub, but where does a lot more heat.

We do not put the air-conditioning noise muttered, by way of apology, the lame.

I noticed during that eternity, that the blood of the temples sadistically beat me, without any compass. At the time, awkwardly tried to collect my ideas.

I'm a big shot, I wanted to convince me that going to do an interview for its expansion project of the Prado Museum has won the competition organized by the city. That is, I have nothing to shake. Also, I personally know Celia Lacambra ... This thought, which first flowed within me, had the virtue of incensed. Do not be nervous, I tried to placate him, that the radio is not the same as television. I looked at the lump began to form in my crotch and thanked whoever it was that there was nobody with me at that time.

Lacambra Celia! How many times had mentioned to my best friends that a lady that's what would make me lose my head! It was her voice, no doubt. As a dense velvet cushion the steps of any man. As a blanket wrapped around sex alert listeners. And it was also his image. First, in reading, I remember perfectly. Then, in a television program. Later, in interviews published in a Gazette extensive illustrations and a supplement of El Periodico de Catalunya. Lacambra Celia ...

In these was, dreaming, when her image spoke to me.

'Good morning. Did Mr. Due?

It was her. And talking to me. Just me. At the narrow room and Turkish bath. A glass wall separated us from a young colored chop beach, manipulating gadgets, a large turntable, two tapes and braces taken from a novel by Isaac Asimov.

For a moment I fancied that my image had been stuck in her brown eyes, smooth body that had undergone minimal paralysis pinned fly an invisible web. For a moment, again, I thought that had fascinated her.

For my ecstasy was complete, missing only for her to say what he said:

-He wants to meet you sooo much, sir, because ...

I know that now because of what happened, I am well known. I know that you have heard me over and over again. That my photos have come from Lib to Change 16. That, to my regret, I have become a popular man.

I must say, however, that at that time I never imagined anything like that. At that moment it occurred to me only say:

-Fafafamanuel Drrrredibo ... Delighted ... I ...

My wild imagination made me believe that she mumbled:

-I ... this ... waiting a long time ... I do not know ... Well, you understand me ...

And I understood.

The beach chop gesturing across the glass and lit a red light where we were. Celia (now that I can say yes, Celia!) Spoke in front of one of the microphones:

'With us, people with something, a character we expected all along: the important architect Juan Manuel Because ...

He did so well, as when I listened at home, I barely realized that something had to answer:

'I am the first fan of this program, Celia. And being here today with you is something I know I envy all the listeners, I heard someone say it. That someone was me.

I do not remember what else I said. And after what happened, nor any other listener remembers the program. What nobody has been able to forget, however, was that.

He must begin within five minutes short of the program. At first I thought it was my wild imagination. Or nervousness that I produced the live interview. But no. I was pleasantly strange and quiet with Celia. My words came ordered, forming coherent sentences. And I think that even witty. If that had not taken place, I think it could have talked forever.

Something happened, however. Celia was the hand that rested, for negligence in my left thigh. She asked. And I answered. As she asked and I answered, his hand slid rhythmically in an area of ​​five centimeters.

I noticed that embarrassed me originally, right when he said:

-I conceive of architecture as a woman. Freedom must be allowed to dream fantasies, but knowing possess in time to give us all the passion and lust that it contains.

Maybe that was very corny, but Celia did not seem to notice.

-In the hands of you, 'replied the woman and architecture must vibrate to lose his head.

Now I realize that this also was corny. Then only I noticed something in my groin swelled, until the package ran into Celia's soft hand.

I do not remember exactly how the interview ended. At some point, Celia, with her free hand moved a plug and the light went red. The other hand is where she was entranced. A tawdry music began to sound. It was the album that had just put the type of sound control. The beach took a chop gum stuck under a table, made monkey gestures across the glass, as saying he had something important to do somewhere, and Celia and I were alone in a small enclosure on this side of the wall of glass.

I have half-hour to spare until the next program Celia said, her voice low cadence, his hand still was not removed from where it was.

'Me too, I stammered, looking without noticing the bulge out and that ferrets under it.

- Do you mind my hand? He asked, to address my eye.

-No. It is a very soft hand, 'I replied, stroking softly and discreetly correcting his position until he overcame some of the mound.

She pushed him gently.

-I love sensitive men, he said, looking at my crotch.

-I ... I began to get nervous, you may need to go.

- Why? If now we know better!

And for corroboration, approached his body to mine. Her right breast, encircled by a tight green dress, hit my arm. I noticed that I was not wearing a bra and stupidity:

- Do not you wear bras announcers?

Laugh, his whole body away from me.

-Not really, said with a smile clear as August 1. Check please?

Before he could present him with an elusive, released three buttons of her dress and chest was round and lush green to the edge, not daring to jump for it.

-Really-are still laughing. Come check it, and accompanying the words with action, grabbed my right hand and put it in that sweet crack.

My hand, awkwardly, tripped over a curved shape and firm. Hustler, adjusted to the soft surface and entertained with a nipple erect, aggressive, exciting colors of purple.

When I realized, Celia's lips had settled on mine. A minimum breath stirred when they took the form of a kiss. My tongue began to play in that game until surface as a sinkhole opened up and entered her, thanking his step the warmth of the cave, stroking their recesses.

My hands, free of prejudices and blunders, torso fluttering firm Celia, ecstatic at her breasts delivered as two forts, which they settled happily into the hollow of my hands.

Celia exhaled a soft gasp and wistful. His eyes glowed with a wish without hypocrisy. The delicate smell of our sex who demanded satisfaction enveloped us.

At first, fear my muscles became rigid.

-Can someone come I said, trying to regain a visit stiff pose.

Celia was laid along, laughing derisively.

Do not be silly. Before half an hour no one will come. I swear.

When you lie down, her skirt rising Celia hinted an unlimited supply of pleasure in the place where he ended his thighs.

My fingers raced over there while Celia haste, with an efficacy test of tailors, undid the buttons of my fly.

His hands lovingly caressed my sex hot. The penis, free of strictures, grew up in all his desire and she let out a muffled "oh" as a prelude to all his hopes.

He began to kiss him tenderly, lovingly, with a thoughtful and careful dedication, like a delicate child. I do not know how, but run on the bank of the parlor reverse the position of our bodies. The airy linen pant slid easily over her buttocks and I met with a thick wet mound, where the bushes were opened as an army surrendered, showing other lips that I asked for a kiss.

While my mouth accommodate those new opening, at the other end of my penis anatomy cheerful romping moisture Celia, shaking and bounds with the caress of a tongue that ran lovingly.

Coinciding impulses, simultaneously recover the front position. Sitting face to face, our bodies were close to our genders were. And they did.

For my phallus could penetrate, Celia raised her mound, leaning on his left elbow. There was no rush because the vagina just waiting for me like a thirsty desert awaiting the water.

- So, so! Penétrame! Fuck me! -Celia gasped, bringing her hands to my hips.

- I want you so! I cried.

- So, so! More! Oh, how I feel your big cock! -Was she carried away by the frenzy of the delivery.

- How good you are! I said, putting a note of vulgarity.

- So, so! Everything! All that cock for me! He continued shouting her, before breaking his sentences in a guttural cry of pleasure.

At some point I seemed to observe the red light when we issued the program, but I attributed it to the erotic dream that I was enjoying.

I only knew that something serious happened when the other side of the glass broke like four runaway horses. The front was the chop beach. It was green and had fallen gum before. Of the other three individuals, two remained silent. And to say that with some recochineo. The street was not a fat guy and red, on the verge of apoplexy. It desgañotaba like a madman, a lunatic gesturing with his hands, tore his hair and beat frantically glass that separated us from him. I never understood how she could do it all at the same time.

Celia, pale, recomposed his clothes as he could. I panicked, I saw before a firing squad.

With the brawl that ensued, only if I heard what happened. The green chop something and drove a red light in the parlor, which itself was on, went off at once.

- Unheard of! Terrible! Blurted the fat guy. What a scandal! Until the civil governor has called!

And right in the middle of the program is pleased feminine one of his assistants.

- I swear I do not know how this could happen! Chop moaned the beach, writhing like a snake.

For a moment, everyone talked simultaneously, pulling the words to each other, like children when they compete on who has the longest piss.

Above the din, I realized that loving conversation between Celia and I, including wheezing and anatomical noise had gone out into the waves, overcoming a lot of women's program in the audience who tried to gardening. The chop control instruments said it was technically impossible.

- Technically or cocks! The fat-is hoarse.

I like the story was with another, I remembered that when Celia settled down to my penis to penetrate her, leaned on his left elbow. Then he must have touched a command.

Do not have time to think because a couple of policemen and I was taking the study.

At the door, it seems incredible, there were three photographers who do not know how they had heard of the matter, unless they were gardeners. A successive clicks of your machines overlapped angry voices of people who were arriving and piling on the door. The shame I felt kept me from knowing what to say.

I was only thirty-six hours at the station, although the fine was cracking. They knew at once that the thing was not going to go so bad. After the moment I saw my career on the floor, when I thought about suicide, which imagined the blush and flush of my mother heard the news, optimism came to me from the lips of an inspector:

- Which hand do you have for women! 'He said, admiringly, Can you give always this good?

Another inspector came and offered me a smiling Winston:

- A shame not to hear the show! , Apologized, as he introduced, all ceremonious, like Luis Menéndez-Are you as good as they say?

-Because the friend is a guy that dazzles interrupted the first inspector, patting me on the shoulder of complicity. Reach out and kiss the saint!

Kissing and fuck-he corrected the other, in a bizarre competition to see who flattered me more and made me who I most friend.

When I left the police station, had already met the commissioner, six inspectors, four numbers and two subordinates systematically had dismissed me saying:

-Don Juan Manuel, you know where I am. I am at your service.

Although it was night when they released me, I estimate that at the door were two hundred people waiting. Burst into applause and cheers. I heard it uncorked a bottle of champagne. Strangers hugged me. I asked for autographs. I made proposals. Almost all the people who were there were women and I thought I saw many eyes moist feverish.

Since then, you know, my life has been like this every day. Celia left the radio and this has become so well known movie star. I called the other day, before going to Paris to shoot a co-production with Alain Delon.

'All I owe to you, dear, she said. And do not know how I enjoyed that day! I have wanted to return to find your penis, filling my mouth with it, to be a long time together.

-But this time in private, without radio-ironic.

'Sure,' he replied, with all the seriousness of the world. My agent has said he does not radiate if not for three million pesetas.

When hanging the machine, I figured who earns more money, if Celia and me. For now, I can not complain. I left my career, but charge half million each unique to a magazine. I invite all high society parties, using a fixed rate. And when a woman wants to spend a weekend with me, he comes out of a peak. All this, without having to declare to the IRS.

The only thing that worried me was the reaction of my mother. He called me by phone:

-Johnny-I heard his voice, do not know how proud I am of you. You've become a celebrity and all the ladies in the salon burning with desire to meet you.

- Nnnnno you care ...? I managed to say.

- Does it matter? If from that you're famous triple customer comes to the salon! I put a huge picture of you at the entrance and now charging double.

This is my mom.