Pain: Delight of the Sea
I walked with hasty steps, almost running, towards the Mariano Building. I was late. Just the thought of climbing those stairs, almost in a circle, up to the eighteenth floor, already made me feel tired and dizzy. Elevator... no way! I would climb up to the thousandth floor, if necessary, but by the stairs. One day, I would surely get there.
In the lobby, I watched for a quick moment as the elevator door opened and two ladies walked in, and I felt like a coward, a coward, but I preferred to run up three flights of stairs to my destination, and I arrived at last, sweaty, my tongue dry, my breath short.
One of the ladies that I had seen go into the elevator was inside the room with her evidence in her hand, and she was giving directions to the people sitting there, who were, like me, candidates for one of the two available positions for internal security at the mall, and she turned to the door, looked at me, looked at her wristwatch and smiled and said,
- It's only been two minutes... you can come in.
I breathed a sigh of relief at the looks of everyone there. There were some women there. She started handing over the blank sheet and explained:
_ People, on this sheet you are going to write about your childhood to your youth. I would like you to be as truthful as you can. Don't worry that the contents will not be evaluated and much less exposed to anyone. They will be my archives. It doesn't matter if you have gone through good or bad times, if you have done things right or wrong. It doesn't matter... What I will evaluate is how you organize the ideas, if you make the proper "hooks" between the parts, if the whole is coherent... etc. All right? Let's start...? You have three hours to do the essay. If you need more sheets just ask...
I thought for a while, and I was afraid to put in the text some facts that would certainly cause amazement or perhaps even indignation to the reader. These are the common reactions of those who only know, have knowledge ... but did not feel, did not experience what I have experienced. They are spectators, and even in that condition, they think they are able to judge and, often, condemn acts that they have never experienced. I decided that I would tell the truth. If I did not get the vacancy, at least I would have done what I always wanted, which was to talk about what I had experienced, and which was decisive for forming the human being that I am today.
The most distant memory I have of my life begins when I was about eight or nine years old, but I know - from the mouths of others - that that life was the same since I came into the world. Nothing had changed. And my arrival in the world coincided with my mother's departure from this same world. She only managed to kiss my face and immediately closed her eyes. From then on it was just me and my father.
He was a fisherman, but because he had to take care of me, he didn't go into the sea to spend many days like the others. At most he turned the night. When he arrived it was only joy with me. The best memory was when he took me for a boat ride. There, he always said:
_ This life, wire... is beautiful when viewed from the outside... but for those who live, it's not no! When the bus arrives on the beach, full of people to know the village and enjoy the sea, the landscape... comes some with the camera to take a picture with us, sometimes when the boat is arriving from the sea... the fishermen since they can not stand tiredness and anger... but they open the smile... Oxe... For that grin, our life is a paradise! Shade of coconut trees and coconut water! ... eh... eh! They hardly know!
But I knew it wasn't in a tone of revolt... it was more to show me that I shouldn't get used to and settle for that life... there, there was no choice!
That's why I always warn you... you have to study if you don't want to earn your living! All I know is about the sea and fish... but the world, after these dunes, is much more than that. There's a lot to learn and to teach. People, who know almost nothing, are not even a prisoner. The more you learn, the freer you become! And you have to start gaining that freedom in school! I have faith to see you a doctor!
I admired my weaver very much... I wanted very much to be like him... not in work... but in body, in manner. I found my weaver an example, both in responsibility and in sympathy. Everyone liked him! I had veneration for the image of weaver: his body always tanned and shining, his green eyes, his strong legs, his height, his arms full of muscles... everything about him I found beautiful. Only one thing I could not bear and gave me much anguish: his crying!
I was about eleven years old when I noticed a baking habit. Our house was in the middle of the dunes and there was no electricity, only a light bulb. We slept in a net. I was in one part of the house and he was in another. When he lay down, he would sway and make that sound of the ropes rubbing against the cabbages. It stayed that way until he fell asleep. I always fell asleep before, but every now and then he would say:
- Nilsin... did you sleep?
I would say no... until I fell asleep. One day, I didn't answer. He repeated, and I was silent. His net stopped. Then I heard a sound and a trembling in the middle of the wall that divided the spaces and where the nets were hanging. He was doing something in the net that caused it. Our house was not made of masonry, but of plaster and clay, so it was a much more fragile structure. I was even afraid of the wall falling on me. But I stayed still. The movements stopped. There was a silence. Then he collapsed crying... until he fell asleep.
After that day, I was pissed about it and stayed up other nights. Several times I noticed this same behavior from him. I wanted to ask what it was, but I was afraid... I don't know!
One day, during the movement, I got up very slowly and I was peering over the wall that divided the two vents and my father was with the pike hard and held on her leather moving up and down ... very fast, until he released a piece of gum, which he dropped on the floor and passed his foot to spread <unk> maybe so that I did not see. Then he covered himself and started to cry. That I saw about three times. One day, we were on the high seas fishing. He got up, took the pike out and started to pee. I looked at the pike, but it was wet. He did not see me looking. He swayed and kept it. I had a great desire to ask ... I stayed with the thought in the clouds. He realized:
What's the matter, Nilsin, are you thinking about the death of the calf?
- What's up?
- No... it's just a way of saying, when someone thinks you're far away...
- I was just thinking...
- In what... tell me!
- No, I think you'll be bored.
Fio, in the world there's only you and me, we can't keep secrets and not be afraid to say anything, you're already a boy, why be afraid?
- Forget about it. I'm just curious.
- Speak up, man!
- At home I talk before I go to sleep...
We got to the beach, and when I got off the boat, I tripped over a rope and fell down, but I got a little bit of a kick in my spine. Pinho picked me up, asked if everything was okay, and I said yes. We had dinner at home, and I complained that my back hurt a little bit. At bedtime, he opened a mat on the floor and made me lie on my stomach, and he massaged my spine.
The pain didn't even exist anymore, but the cloth hands running down my back made my dick hard and I was embarrassed to leave. And then I would show other places for him to massage. At one point, I pointed the end of my spine, very close to my butt. He pulled my shorts up to my thighs, and passed his leg over mine, almost sitting on the back of my legs. At that time I began to feel some chills, some shivers, a very good thing, and, automatically, I remembered his hard dove. I felt his hands on every piece of me wanting to...
- A little lower, you little weasel!
I felt his hands tremble, he pulled my pants a little further away and I felt the wind beat on my butt. He breathed as if he were running... he started to sweat and a drop of sweat fell well on my groin. He saw and passed his finger as if to wipe that drop that was already well on the inside of my butt. When I felt the drop there and then his finger, I sighed... and I asked:
Why do you only do that when I'm asleep?
He stopped... he was silent and with a trembling voice he asked:
- That what?
I've got a hard cock and I've got a hard cock and I've got a hard cock and I've got a hard cock and I've got a hard cock and I've got a hard cock and I've got a hard cock and I've got a hard cock and I've got a hard cock and I've got a hard cock and I've got a hard cock
He turned scared and saw my hard cock.
- But yours is much bigger.
He looked at me with his eyes wide open...
Let me see it up close, I only saw it in the dark.
He just nodded his head in the affirmative, and I brought my hand up to his dick, and I squeezed the head of his roll... he was on his knees over me...
- The wire...
- Go on, do it, do it! - What are you doing?
Without taking his eyes off of mine, he pulled down his pants and jumped the dick out, already drooling.
- Hold on to her, Nilsin...
I sat down, he remained on his knees...
- Is that how you do it, honey?
I started moving the skin of his dick, like I'd seen him do, and he closed his eyes and he moaned.
- Get that thing out of there, asshole!
He sat down and started making those moves on himself.
- Come here, sweetheart, suck on this like a sleeve.
- Suck on it?
Don't you want to see that come out?
- And you can drink?
I'll let you know when I'm going out.
When I got close, he pulled out a wooden box and sat down with his legs open. His dick was pointing up and giving some impulses. It was much bigger than mine. His sack was falling on the box. I knelt between his legs, held his dick and started sucking. At first I was a little clumsy, but he taught me and did it the right way. I couldn't swallow even half, but he didn't force it. I was loving it. I grabbed his sack and moved around while he sucked.
He raised it at once in front of me:
The milk will come out, Nilsin.
I opened my mouth and a strong jet hit my throat.
He squeezed the head of the roller...
- Open the wire.
And my mouth was filled with milk, and the first time I tasted it, I loved it, and I was hooked, and every day he would give it to me to drink.
After a while, I asked him about crying online, and he said it was because he wanted to do it with me, but he didn't have the courage to come to me, so he suffered. He did it alone online, thinking about me, and when it was over, regretting wanting me, he cried.
On my 16th birthday I had the best experience with cloth that I will tell you about next.
In the lobby, I watched for a quick moment as the elevator door opened and two ladies walked in, and I felt like a coward, a coward, but I preferred to run up three flights of stairs to my destination, and I arrived at last, sweaty, my tongue dry, my breath short.
One of the ladies that I had seen go into the elevator was inside the room with her evidence in her hand, and she was giving directions to the people sitting there, who were, like me, candidates for one of the two available positions for internal security at the mall, and she turned to the door, looked at me, looked at her wristwatch and smiled and said,
- It's only been two minutes... you can come in.
I breathed a sigh of relief at the looks of everyone there. There were some women there. She started handing over the blank sheet and explained:
_ People, on this sheet you are going to write about your childhood to your youth. I would like you to be as truthful as you can. Don't worry that the contents will not be evaluated and much less exposed to anyone. They will be my archives. It doesn't matter if you have gone through good or bad times, if you have done things right or wrong. It doesn't matter... What I will evaluate is how you organize the ideas, if you make the proper "hooks" between the parts, if the whole is coherent... etc. All right? Let's start...? You have three hours to do the essay. If you need more sheets just ask...
I thought for a while, and I was afraid to put in the text some facts that would certainly cause amazement or perhaps even indignation to the reader. These are the common reactions of those who only know, have knowledge ... but did not feel, did not experience what I have experienced. They are spectators, and even in that condition, they think they are able to judge and, often, condemn acts that they have never experienced. I decided that I would tell the truth. If I did not get the vacancy, at least I would have done what I always wanted, which was to talk about what I had experienced, and which was decisive for forming the human being that I am today.
The most distant memory I have of my life begins when I was about eight or nine years old, but I know - from the mouths of others - that that life was the same since I came into the world. Nothing had changed. And my arrival in the world coincided with my mother's departure from this same world. She only managed to kiss my face and immediately closed her eyes. From then on it was just me and my father.
He was a fisherman, but because he had to take care of me, he didn't go into the sea to spend many days like the others. At most he turned the night. When he arrived it was only joy with me. The best memory was when he took me for a boat ride. There, he always said:
_ This life, wire... is beautiful when viewed from the outside... but for those who live, it's not no! When the bus arrives on the beach, full of people to know the village and enjoy the sea, the landscape... comes some with the camera to take a picture with us, sometimes when the boat is arriving from the sea... the fishermen since they can not stand tiredness and anger... but they open the smile... Oxe... For that grin, our life is a paradise! Shade of coconut trees and coconut water! ... eh... eh! They hardly know!
But I knew it wasn't in a tone of revolt... it was more to show me that I shouldn't get used to and settle for that life... there, there was no choice!
That's why I always warn you... you have to study if you don't want to earn your living! All I know is about the sea and fish... but the world, after these dunes, is much more than that. There's a lot to learn and to teach. People, who know almost nothing, are not even a prisoner. The more you learn, the freer you become! And you have to start gaining that freedom in school! I have faith to see you a doctor!
I admired my weaver very much... I wanted very much to be like him... not in work... but in body, in manner. I found my weaver an example, both in responsibility and in sympathy. Everyone liked him! I had veneration for the image of weaver: his body always tanned and shining, his green eyes, his strong legs, his height, his arms full of muscles... everything about him I found beautiful. Only one thing I could not bear and gave me much anguish: his crying!
I was about eleven years old when I noticed a baking habit. Our house was in the middle of the dunes and there was no electricity, only a light bulb. We slept in a net. I was in one part of the house and he was in another. When he lay down, he would sway and make that sound of the ropes rubbing against the cabbages. It stayed that way until he fell asleep. I always fell asleep before, but every now and then he would say:
- Nilsin... did you sleep?
I would say no... until I fell asleep. One day, I didn't answer. He repeated, and I was silent. His net stopped. Then I heard a sound and a trembling in the middle of the wall that divided the spaces and where the nets were hanging. He was doing something in the net that caused it. Our house was not made of masonry, but of plaster and clay, so it was a much more fragile structure. I was even afraid of the wall falling on me. But I stayed still. The movements stopped. There was a silence. Then he collapsed crying... until he fell asleep.
After that day, I was pissed about it and stayed up other nights. Several times I noticed this same behavior from him. I wanted to ask what it was, but I was afraid... I don't know!
One day, during the movement, I got up very slowly and I was peering over the wall that divided the two vents and my father was with the pike hard and held on her leather moving up and down ... very fast, until he released a piece of gum, which he dropped on the floor and passed his foot to spread <unk> maybe so that I did not see. Then he covered himself and started to cry. That I saw about three times. One day, we were on the high seas fishing. He got up, took the pike out and started to pee. I looked at the pike, but it was wet. He did not see me looking. He swayed and kept it. I had a great desire to ask ... I stayed with the thought in the clouds. He realized:
What's the matter, Nilsin, are you thinking about the death of the calf?
- What's up?
- No... it's just a way of saying, when someone thinks you're far away...
- I was just thinking...
- In what... tell me!
- No, I think you'll be bored.
Fio, in the world there's only you and me, we can't keep secrets and not be afraid to say anything, you're already a boy, why be afraid?
- Forget about it. I'm just curious.
- Speak up, man!
- At home I talk before I go to sleep...
We got to the beach, and when I got off the boat, I tripped over a rope and fell down, but I got a little bit of a kick in my spine. Pinho picked me up, asked if everything was okay, and I said yes. We had dinner at home, and I complained that my back hurt a little bit. At bedtime, he opened a mat on the floor and made me lie on my stomach, and he massaged my spine.
The pain didn't even exist anymore, but the cloth hands running down my back made my dick hard and I was embarrassed to leave. And then I would show other places for him to massage. At one point, I pointed the end of my spine, very close to my butt. He pulled my shorts up to my thighs, and passed his leg over mine, almost sitting on the back of my legs. At that time I began to feel some chills, some shivers, a very good thing, and, automatically, I remembered his hard dove. I felt his hands on every piece of me wanting to...
- A little lower, you little weasel!
I felt his hands tremble, he pulled my pants a little further away and I felt the wind beat on my butt. He breathed as if he were running... he started to sweat and a drop of sweat fell well on my groin. He saw and passed his finger as if to wipe that drop that was already well on the inside of my butt. When I felt the drop there and then his finger, I sighed... and I asked:
Why do you only do that when I'm asleep?
He stopped... he was silent and with a trembling voice he asked:
- That what?
I've got a hard cock and I've got a hard cock and I've got a hard cock and I've got a hard cock and I've got a hard cock and I've got a hard cock and I've got a hard cock and I've got a hard cock and I've got a hard cock and I've got a hard cock and I've got a hard cock
He turned scared and saw my hard cock.
- But yours is much bigger.
He looked at me with his eyes wide open...
Let me see it up close, I only saw it in the dark.
He just nodded his head in the affirmative, and I brought my hand up to his dick, and I squeezed the head of his roll... he was on his knees over me...
- The wire...
- Go on, do it, do it! - What are you doing?
Without taking his eyes off of mine, he pulled down his pants and jumped the dick out, already drooling.
- Hold on to her, Nilsin...
I sat down, he remained on his knees...
- Is that how you do it, honey?
I started moving the skin of his dick, like I'd seen him do, and he closed his eyes and he moaned.
- Get that thing out of there, asshole!
He sat down and started making those moves on himself.
- Come here, sweetheart, suck on this like a sleeve.
- Suck on it?
Don't you want to see that come out?
- And you can drink?
I'll let you know when I'm going out.
When I got close, he pulled out a wooden box and sat down with his legs open. His dick was pointing up and giving some impulses. It was much bigger than mine. His sack was falling on the box. I knelt between his legs, held his dick and started sucking. At first I was a little clumsy, but he taught me and did it the right way. I couldn't swallow even half, but he didn't force it. I was loving it. I grabbed his sack and moved around while he sucked.
He raised it at once in front of me:
The milk will come out, Nilsin.
I opened my mouth and a strong jet hit my throat.
He squeezed the head of the roller...
- Open the wire.
And my mouth was filled with milk, and the first time I tasted it, I loved it, and I was hooked, and every day he would give it to me to drink.
After a while, I asked him about crying online, and he said it was because he wanted to do it with me, but he didn't have the courage to come to me, so he suffered. He did it alone online, thinking about me, and when it was over, regretting wanting me, he cried.
On my 16th birthday I had the best experience with cloth that I will tell you about next.
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