u15715377901571537790 Gláucio Imada Tamura

Does beauty attract loneliness? Why is it that some seemingly perfect people never manage to connect with their surroundings? Is it because they are snobby and arrogant? Or are they old souls, that is, souls tired of accumulated experiences from other lives, wallowing in relief in such a barren reality of depth? Discover the story of Maycon, a boy like so many others, but who somehow survives his moments of solitude filling himself with pure adrenaline ..


Yetişkin İçerik Yalnızca 21 yaş üstü (yetişkinler) için.

#existential #contemporary #loneliness #shorty-story #erotic #adult #drama
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A motel room, cigarettes and strong drinks. That was all, or at least part of what Maycon needed in his sleepless nights when he felt lonely. Next to him, inside the same motel room, several prostitutes; one, and sometimes two or three girls, all gathered in the dark alleys of the city, seduced by the unique beauty of that boy whom, sometimes, they insisted on giving up their bodies for the price of nothing. Night by night, that's all. While life in the city of São Paulo progressed with great strides, with the moon in the sky shining brightly, chorusing with the lights of other celestial bodies around, desire burned in his chest, igniting his dark, virile and strong body, though now and then the room was disturbed by the cowardly currents of air that, divorced from the strong winds that blew outside, insisted on denouncing that the month of August was here to stay.

Unlike the thin, shy siblings, it was clear that Maycon could only have been born from another litter. In the brood of brutes, foals, alpha wolves with strong claws, even though lonely, yet in a somber way that no one could quite explain; Maycon was strangely beautiful, and despite that sadness always following his eyes, his firmness in gestures, actions and decisions, emerged in him a sweet and sensitive aura, always kind to everyone around him.

But Maycon had an old soul, so he felt lonely. The refuge from so much loneliness was sex. But not sloppy, sleepless, or casual sex like those quick fucks because someone has to leave. On the contrary, there was intensity in everything he did. Like a perfectly functioning Swiss watch, his feelings always synchronized with the desires of his flesh, that is, wherever his skin, his hard member, or even his fleshy mouth touched, he managed to exhaust all and any kind of sensation from that place, and the it metamorphosed into stimuli with vital eye-rolling power. Whether with prostitutes or not, that was just a detail. For Maycon as long as there was a consensus, then a woman was a woman. That August night, in the dark room of that same cheap motel, two naked girls, thirsty for his presence, were lying on the sheets. They were eager to soon crumple them.

Climbing out of the bath, stark naked and flush with the bed, Maycon gave them a feline look that made them feel like two helpless preys: with his erect member pointed at them, they became extremely wet, while thick drops of water ran down his black hair, spilling down his neck, steadying on the black tattoo on his firm chest.

"I need a towel, girls." His voice was deep...


To be continued...


*** Are you enjoying it?! So, you can complete the end of this tale by downloading the complete e-book on your mobile's Google Play app. Don't forget to support the author by liking and sharing this work on social media ***



13 Haziran 2022 20:16:50 0 Rapor Yerleştirmek Hikayeyi takip edin
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Gláucio Imada Tamura Eu sou um contista nipo-brasileiro que se dedica a escrever sobre temas relacionados ao drama, horror, terror, suspense, mistério, às vezes somando tudo isso com boas doses de humor. *** Ebooks a venda no Google Play***

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