old men

(Dirty old man)

For the second day in a row i woke up and went straight to Arthur’s home to talk and play videogame. I’m leaving this city in a short while and i feel like there’s never time enough to sense goodbye to good friends. I’m still too young to be wise, but i do have already an advanced notion of briefness. I’ll depart from existence any day now – if it happens tomorrow or in fifty years, it makes no difference; it’s too fucking short. So i woke up and didn’t have breakfast. I just put on some clothes and brushed my teeth and for the second day in a row i went straight to Arthur’s home.

For the second day in a row i bought a cold cola, a can of Pringles and a bag of spicy (REALLY spicy) Indian snacks to eat with my friends at their place. Arthur was sleeping, but his cousin Vitão (also a great friend) was playing GTA IV and we shared the controller – playing a death or a mission each. I opened my bags and took out the cold cola. They’re fixing their fridge this week, so a cold cola is always appreciated. I took out the onion Pringles and Vitão celebrated with a “Woooohhhh”. As soon as he saw the Indian spicy (REALLY spicy) samosa, though, he moved his head backwards and started negatively waving his hand.

"I ain't eating this shit today, man. Not again… I got a... You know… A bad stomach from this stuff, yesterday"

Bad stomach… - Yeah, for sure... I know what that hesitation meant – all of those suspension points in his speech. “A bad stomach” was his polite way of saying: “My ass was on fire when i took a dump later…”

My ass burned as well, naturally. But i don't give a fuck. Arthur woke up in time for some Pringles and cold cola. He didn’t touch the samosa. I ate that bag alone (and let the chips fall where they may).

Both Arthur and Vitão had to work early the next day. Around twenty past midnight, when i was about to leave, my boss called me and asked if i could work that night, though it was my free day.

They hired this Italian motherfucker who, at his first day at work, fifteen minutes before the time he was supposed to be there, smsed a "I can’t go. Sorry, so long, bye-bye"

I was planning a boring night at home with my computer, and boring nights with computers look better to me if someone is paying for them. Not twenty minutes after that call i was at the hostel, staring at its green walls and at this big pile of nothingtodo drawn right in front of my face. It was cozy, and calm. I wasn’t planning to work that night, so i didn’t sleep much. I was lazy and comfortable.

I started the night watching two movies and drinking some beer i had left in the fridge. I was just about to get drunk when she arrived – pretty drunk herself – followed by a guest i had met earlier – a creepy short guy who i had to change rooms out of some registering mistake. The stared at me and walked towards the opposite direction to their room - meaning they came back from the streets with something to talk, or to do.

I kept staring at the computer, minding my own business, as i usually do. There was nothing particularly interesting in that scene until the girl came back a few minutes later.

She was alone now, and after staring at me for a heartbeat she stopped in front of the reception. Her calm body posture and contemplative eyes told me she didn't need help, but only company. People just need to talk, sometimes, and i'm quite sure they think a receptionist is fully prepared and willing to be a part-time therapist. She was a cute blond, quite attractive to me, so i got closer.

"Do you have a cigarette?" – she asked.

"Yeah, i do…"

"Can i have one?"

"Sure…"

She sat in the sofa as i came back for the cigarettes, but we’re not allowed to smoke in that room. We moved to the tv room – where it’s more private, with ashtrays - and started smoking while sharing a few firststep words.

"I've worked in a hostel too" - she said.

"Nice" - i answered. "Did you like it?"

"Yeah, pretty much nothing to do..."

"Tell me about it..."

"I used to play my guitar all night"

"Shit, i wish i could play guitar in here"

"You play instruments?"

"Only acoustic guitar. You?"

"I'm a musician. I’m studying it in university. My main instrument is the cello"

"Awesome. It must feel great..."

"It does... What i also like about working in a hostel is that we always had beer…"

“Things are not different around here” – I said. “Would you like some”

“Sure…”

As i came back from the kitchen she said:

"You know that guy who came in with me?"

"Yep"

"Shit, he was supposed to be gay... He entered the room earlier and i was quite sure he was gay. My best friend, traveling with me, he was sure this guy was gay too..."

"Is your friend gay?"

"Yeah. And we were both sure that guy was gay. Now we went out together and he was all over me. Saying things like ‘Since i put my eyes on you i wanted to kiss you’, and stuff like that... And then he tried to kiss me, but, you know? He is fucking gay! I didn't want to kiss him"

"So what did you do?"

"I told him: 'What are you doing? You're fucking gay!"

"Heauheauhea..."

"He said: 'No, i'm not'. And i said: 'Yes, you are! Look at you! You are fucking gay and you should fucking accept it!"

I laughed harder and got us two beers from the fridge. By the time we finished them we were both quite drunk. She asked me:

"Who are you?"

"What the fuck do you mean?"

"I mean: who... are... you...?"

"I don’t know”

“You don’t know who are you?”

“No. This question makes no sense to me. If you insist on asking, i must answer 'i don't know', 'cause i can't think of any other reasonable answer"

"How do you mean you don't know?"

"Are you saying you can tell me who YOU are?"

"A little bit, at least... I guess…"

"Then tell me..."

"I'm Irish... I'm a musician... I'm straight... Are you gay?"

"No. Don’t worry:) Keep going"

"I'm... strange. And i don't have homosexual fantasies... I mean, i've had them, but i'm through with that... Now, who are you?"

"I don't know. I can't even say i'm Brazilian, as you say you’re Irish, because what goes for most Brazilians won't go for me. I don't like football, for example. And this answer of yours... Do you realize it would fit many, many people?"

"Yes..."

"How can you believe this will define YOU? I don't think this is a subject to be taken lightly..."

"Are you looking at my legs?"

"Yes, i am. They’re awesome:)"

"You men are all the same..."

"Come on, don't say that... This is pretty unfair. I know you have no reason to believe me, but you just happen to be talking to someone who won't agree with that"

"Examples..."

"Myself"

"So you're different?"

"Yes. I'm quite sure of that. Can't say if it's for the best, but that i'm different, i'm quite sure"

"All you guys want is a fucking hole..."

"Sometimes... You're right. But you say it as if women were different. Won't you admit sometimes all you want is a dick?"

"..."

"I can't say there's anything wrong with regular vulgarity, if it runs by mutual accord" - i continued. "Just to fuck is perfectly ok. But i think there's also more than that. Being good, i believe, is not behaving like this or like that, but to be able to behave differently in different occasions. One night stand is fine with me, but i recon there's more you can have in sex. I prefer a relationship to a one night fuck..."

"But you WOULD fuck just for one night, just for fun?"

"Of course i would. Wouldn't you?"

“Yes… I would. How long lasted your longest relationship?”

“One year and a half”

“That’s not much…”

“Maybe… One year and a half together is not much. But one year and a half in mutual love was quite difficult to achieve and maintain – at least for me… What about you?”

“Three months… I’m only twenty two…”

Little did i know, as we talked drunk endofthenight business, that spicy samosa i ate in the afternoon was fermenting inside my bowels. I felt like taking a dump, as we talked, but it wasn't absolutely necessary. And when you're talking alone to a girl in the middle of the night and the bathroom is a few feet from where you both stand, one won’t take a dump unless it’s absolutely necessary. We just kept on talking and i forgot about it. I did start smoking fewer cigarettes per hour, though.

"I think you're right" - she said.

"What do you mean?"

"About knowing yourself, or anyone. I wish we could know at least a few things..."

"I believe we can get to know a few, if we try hard and long enough…"

"Like what? What can one really know?"

"I don't know yet. I'm still trying"

"Trying how?"

"Look, it's fairly easy to make questions:) But it's late, i don't sleep for a while. I'm drunk and tired. I don't take these things lightly. I’m serious about that, and i can’t talk very seriously now. I'm getting distracted all the time... I know exactly what i want to say, but can't find words to it..."

"So let's drop it. What do you expect from life?"

"Shit, you're a difficult talk, aren't you? What happened to girls talking about celebrities?"

"I hate celebrities... What do you expect from life? I mean, besides looking at my legs"

"If you insist, hehehe, a good book"

"What?"

"A good book. I hope i can write a good book. I live for that. After i feel like i've done this, i'll think of someone else"

"What are your favorite writers?"

She liked Aldous Huxley. She didn't know anyone else i mentioned, but she did like Aldous Huxley a lot, and that was surprising enough. I lost track of time and our talk got gradually more interrupted by lateatnight comfortable silences. I said:

"Night is almost over, so is my awareness. I get distracted by anything. Your hand, for example... Fingers... I look at them and nothing exist in the universe but fingers"

I touched her hand and she spread her fingers apart, so i could reach wherever i wanted, i guess. Then she caressed my hand. I moved myself in the sofa so i could get closer to her.

"Shit, a gay guy kissed you tonite. I mean, i hope he was gay, because if he isn't, after what you told him, he's probably still awake now, staring at the darkness, wondering what the fuck is wrong with him..."

She laughed and i kissed her. She moved herself towards me and we started making out. Her skin was soft and our drunk kiss was golden bliss.

She had big breasts and i put them out of her dress. Sneaked my hand beneath her panties and in a few minutes i first made her come with my fingers. She was more like the receptive kind of girl and i had to put her hand on my cock. She didn’t know any advanced techniques of jerking a dick off, though.

"Do you want to fuck me?" – she whispered.

"What do you think?" - i closed my hand over her hand, over my erection. "Will you say i'm gay too?"

"I would love you to fuck me…"

I pulled her panties down and started moving on the sofa.

"But we must have protection... Do you have a condom?"

"Yep. But it’s in the reception. Just wait for me... Just a second"

I ran to the reception and reached for my backpack. I glanced at the alarm clock over the shelf and realized i had about ten minutes before the other receptionist arrived to replace me. I prefer when i don’t have to fuck in a hurry.

Back at the tv room, i told the girl we had only a few minutes, as i set my dick once again free from my pants.

"Do you think it's worth it?"

I stopped for a heartbeat, looking at her. I considered... She had a short dress, no panties and her legs were spread across the sofa. Blood was pumping so hard inside my dick there was just enough oxygen in my brain to do easy decisions like that one.

"Yeah. It's worth it..."

"I don't know..." - she replied.

So i gave up and sat by her side. I’m not greedy. It's fucked up to call you cock back, but i can do it. It's like being stabbed in the heart, but i can do it.

She hugged me and started kissing me. She reached for my dick again, clumsily.

"Fuck me... I need you to fuck me..."

"Shit, girl. You just said..."

"Fuck me..."

To call your cock back from a fierce erection is like being stabbed in the heart. But calling it back and forth is fucked up. I calculated i had about seven minutes now. My erection was over already. It's fucked up to summon an erection in a hurry. I bent over her and caressed her legs. That worked.

"The condom... You need to put the condom on..."

My dick was hard, my mind was fuzzy and my hands were hasty.

I hate condoms. I could say i hate my dick, if i was more objective, but i hate condoms. My dick is just about too thick for them to slide down smoothly, and just about not too thick enough to search for special condoms. I was fighting with the fucking thing, and i torn it apart.

"Look at this shit..." - i said. "This one is a goner..."

"I… NEED you… to FUCK me!"

The buzzer buzzed. The other receptionist had arrived. There was a pile of unfilled papers over the desk in the reception. The kitchen was all dirty and everything was a mess. No toilet papers in the bathrooms… I hadn't finished any of my work duties and the next receptionist was there already to replace me.

I left the girl in the tv room and went to meet the other girl who would replace me at the hostel. I was all sweaty and lost. Drunk as fuck. Not a reason to pretend anything.

"Look, i'm with this girl in the tv room and i lost track of time. The hostel is a mess, i'm sorry... Just a second, i’ll fixing things now..."

“You don’t have to…”

I ran back to the Irish girl in the tv room:

"Look, i live nearby. Wanna go to my home for a while?"

"Hum..."

As she wondered I ran back to the next receptionist:

"This is my job, guapa. Let me at least help you with these..."

"No, you just go home:) Don't worry. I can do this as i fix my tea..."

"Shit, you are too kind. Fuck, i feel like shit for abusing you, but i'll have to take it:) Thank you, thank you, thank you. Sorry, sorry, sorry... Thank you…"

Back at the tv room, the girl had a brown purse beneath her arm.

“You make me look like a whore…”

I laughed.

We left holding hands and after walking in a drunk dream for a few minutes we were in my bedroom. As soon as i closed the door she jumped over me and i ripped her dress off.

I found another condom and worked this one more calmly. Now i had time. She was already so wet i wasted no time showing off my preliminary skills. I put her legs around my neck bent myself over her. It took me around thirty seconds before i was banging her like a mad man. She would scream and do strong noises that worried me about the girl living in the next room. She was very friendly and i barely knew her. Now i was probably waking her up in the morning with some girl moaning unprintable noises and screaming "YEAH! YEAH! RIGHT THERE! FUCKE ME! OH, YOU'RE SOOOOOO GOOOOOOOD TO MY PUSSY! RIGHT THERE! OOOHHHHH! RIGHT THERE!"

I pulled her hair towards me and gave her all i got. Out of the sudden she pushed me away, very fiercely. I though she had a violent orgasm and was dealing with an over sensitive pussy for a minute, so after that minute i tried to enter her again, but she pushed me away once more.

"What's up?" - i asked?

I was trying to reach for her pussy with my hand now, and she was avoiding me.

"I... I don't know... It hurts... It never happened to me before... My pussy hurts..."

"But it hasn’t been twenty minutes yet. What do you mean it hurts?"

"I don't know"

She was crying, now.

"It never happened before, not like this, i don't know... It just hurts... But i WANT you to fuck me... Do you think i should see a doctor? I NEED you to fuck me... I don't... Do you think it’s serious?"

"I don’t know… It takes many years of studying gynecology for a man to have a medical understanding of a pussy…”

“I want to fuck more…”

“Look at you" - i said, laughing. "You're whining like a spoiled kid"

She laughed and cried at the same time. It was funny.

"I feel embarrassed... I want you to fuck me so badly, and it hurts... I feel bad. Did you come?"

"You shouldn't mind... I told you, i'm different. I like fucking, you know. Not only coming. Coming is not that important. Fucking you was nice enough. I'd like more, of course, but if you can't, it's ok..."

"Wait a minute... Try now"

I masturbated her for a few seconds. Her pussy was back at work. She got on her fours and i started it again.

But something was wrong. I was sweating too much. I do sweat a lot, but that was over the edge. I was also loosing power too quickly. I’ve been taking long walks for months now – that shouldn’t be happening. The blood was running out of my dick, making it floppy. I do have that if i'm fucking like a wild horse for some time and after i’ve held my orgasm for a few times, but it was happening too quickly.

I summoned every strength in my body and fucked her hardly till she came violently, then i slipped out because something urgent was happening and was quite impossible to deny at that time- i felt as if Mike Tyson was punching the insides of my ass.

"I need to go to the bathroom"

When i got up - or tried to get up - my legs were shaking. I felt weak as i didn't in a long while, and i actually almost fell on the floor. I felt as if i was fucking hard for at least two days in a row, and it wasn't much more than half an hour. I ran to the bathroom, closed the door and barely had time to take my pants off and sit down.

Man, that was one of the worst dumps ever. It was burning and i feel like i dumped two kilos of shit and razor blades in that toilet. Hard and slow and burning and tiresome and stinky and painful.

If there's anything useful i have to say with all of this is: "Never fuck like a wild animal with a fucking brick of spicy food boiling inside of you" I was sweating like a waterfall. I cleaned my face in the sink and went back to the room

As i slipped beside her on the bed she put one of her legs over me - rubbing her ass to my leg and making sexy noises.

"Look, girl, i'm sorry. But it's been a long night and i'm beaten. I really, really wanna fuck you more, but i can't right now. I'm beaten…. Sorry"

"It's ok... I'm quite tired myself..."

Then she hugged me and slept soundly.

I kept staring at everything, in the dark, unable to sleep myself. And suddenly i got myself thinking of the old man - the dirty old man - and i pitied him because he was talented and his life was sad. I thought of Socrates and Neruda and of many other old men i think about a lot. A song came to my mind:

"Old man, look at my life...
I'm a lot like you were"

I looked at the girl again and her beautiful lips snorting. I closed my eyes and looked inside myself, listening to that song on and on....

"I need someone to love me the whole day through.
Oh, one look at my eyes and you can tell that's true"

I looked back at the girl and felt lonely.

I couldn’t sleep, and i didn't know her name.

Neil Young - Old Man