Casual encounters

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Neon lights. Too high volume music. People dancing in a bizarre way. Leaning on the bar, he took a beer. From time to time was facing a girl passing by his side brushing him back with a subtle finger, calling his attention. His eyelids were closed from time to time, a stupid smile drawn on his face caused by excessive alcohol in his veins. In spite of this, it seemed that he even retained something of lucidity. A bad memory seemed to seize him, his smile disappeared, giving way to a sad face. Perhaps to try to erase that memory, he asked another drink that was soon empty.

A dark haired girl, dressed in a very tight black leather skirt enhancing all her curves and a pretty low-cut strapless shirt watched him from afar with a bottle of beer in hand. A half smile drawn in her face, as if she had spotted a dam. She gave the last drink the bottle and after leaving it on the bar, turned with a decided step up to where he was. Without looking at him, she was placed beside him and asked for a drink. The guy turned to her and toured it top down without dissimulation, stopping at each of her curves. She turned to him with a wide smile and a tribal conversation began. She nodded with the cup between the lips as he talked nonstop, moan from time to time and taking the free hand to the face. The girl touched he from time to time the shoulder as a sign of understanding, but on her face could see indifference.

After a few minutes, she, who seemed to be fed up with so many wailing, took his arm and dragged him to the center of the track. The music seemed much more strident before, the low rang making vibrate all over the body. The guy at the beginning was reluctant to dance, but after several rods of the girl and some other uploaded tone movement, were encouraged to keep her up.

On one occasion, she encircled his neck with both arms and with a slight smile, approached him to kiss him, but he fell back instinctively, seemed to be fighting against a feeling; but finally, he closed his eyes and succumbed to that kiss. There was no turning back.

One hand clutched to the sheet. A caress on the back. A desperate kiss. An explosion of pleasure. And then “nothing”.

Two days after that meeting, a slim young man made tail on the Bank opposite the empty window. Without looking at anything else, twisted papers in a folder headed by name: Dario Perales. When the employee at the window appeared, he turned around and came out fired.

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