Siete minutos, Ismael Camacho Arango [read with me TXT] 📗
- Author: Ismael Camacho Arango
Book online «Siete minutos, Ismael Camacho Arango [read with me TXT] 📗». Author Ismael Camacho Arango
AMELIA
We toast to the revolution.
ALL THE GIRLS
To the revolution.
CARDINAL
Ora pro novis…
HOMER
We’ll have a firework display tonight.
CARDINAL
I won’t be here.
Miguel
I had arrived at Homer’s yacht with Jaramillo, who wanted to talk to the intelligent chimpanzee in the floating paradise, looking more like a floating shop. Chucho’s owner had given me a letter that I delivered to Homer on the first day, but everything was not bad. The liquor, the women and drugs were first class. Stupid bosses, industrialists, sexy and frigid women and lesbians wanted something from Homer. Some people went there on business and the rest for the same thing but Homer always kept something from them. Amelia and her women had left the yacht but Fifi had stayed.
The arms of a Russian duchess in exile had received me on the first day. Duchesses are the same as maids, but this one had beautiful breasts, like a couple of doves with rosy beaks. I could never understand why the communists had thrown her out of the country instead of Stalin’s moustache, but I think Marxism produces irreversible foolishness. Everybody congregated on deck as fireworks went up the sky, leaving a trail amidst the clouds.
“It’s beautiful,” my duchess said.
As she held my hands against her bosom, I wondered why I had fallen for her charms. Once I had to work to earn my bread, but Homer’s money had left me on my own. My wife had left me while my children had gone away in pursue of their dreams.
“Would you like an aguardiente?” a voice interrupted my reverie.
On looking up, I came face to face with a chimpanzee dressed as a sailor, pushing a tray towards my chest while showing me his teeth. We stared at each other for a few moments.
“Hi Chucho,” I said.
He showed me his teeth, filling one of the small cups in the tray.
“You must be having a nice time,” he said.
I took a sip of aguardiente, while my duchess gulped her drink.
“Thank you,” I said.
Chucho moved away from us, his legs struggling to keep the balance on the floor. He managed fine in Homer’s ship in spite of the human circus he had.
“Chucho is clever,” I said.
She nodded. “And weird.”
Chucho looked at the girls while offering drinks to the rest of the guests by the pool.
“Hi Chucho,” they said.
He uttered a greeting in Spanish, his hands reaching for the tumblers left in the tray while grinning at them.
“I have to work,” he said.
“Homer won’t mind,” the girls said.
Shaking his head, Chucho left a trail of water on the floor. He must have stepped on a puddle or the girls made him nervous. I remembered my trip to the mountains, where the parrot and the snake kept me company during the night.
“I’ll get some more drinks,” my duchess said.
She looked at her reflection in the mirror before moving towards the bar, where Homer spoke to his passengers.
“She’s nice,” Jaramillo said.
“I know.”
I had forgotten about the journalist, sitting by my side, drinking aguardiente and holding a roll of papers. I had seen them in Homer’s shop a long time ago.
“They used to belong to Homer’s invisible friend,” he said.
As I looked at the lines and symbols meaning nothing at all, Homer appeared with my duchess. After putting a few drinks on the table, she sat by my side.
“I must see Chucho,” Jaramillo said.
“He’s with Fifi now,” Homer said.
“They must be in love.”
“He’s a chimpanzee,” I said.
“Love has no limits.”
As Jaramillo left the table, my duchess sat on my lap, while searching for my hands. I don’t know how she could do so many things at the same time.
“You took a long time,” I said.
“Homer showed me his trophies.”
“What trophies?”
“He had a matador called Cagangosto, who has the head of a bull.”
“It’s strange,” I said.
She smiled. “Matadors are funny people.”
I thought the fine weather might end, as the sound of thunder interrupted the conversation.
“It will rain tomorrow,” Homer said. “The weatherman said.”
“They are never right,” I said.
Homer sipped his drink, the sun struggling to appear behind the clouds while the orchestra played a tango. Homer took his shirt off.
“Hurrah to Homer,” people said.
He struggled with his trousers, showing us his erect cock. Then he danced around the place, looking suntanned while the women clapped their hands.
“I want an orgy,” Homer said.
The girls took off their clothes, and the top deck looked like a nudist camp, as everyone pranced naked around the pool.
“Yes,” my duchess said.
On throwing away her panties, the breeze greeted her flesh, her teats going up and down while her cunt looked pink in the sun.
“You have shaved your body hair,” I said.
“Why don’t you join us?” she asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Do it for me.”
I saw fireworks exploding in the sky. At first I took my trousers off, but then my pants joined the rest of my clothes on the floor, feeling the ecstasy of the moment. A girl knelt by my side.
“Can I suck it?” she asked.
I let her put it in her mouth, her fingers drawing the foreskin up and down, until
the semen splashed her teats. Everybody cheered as I buried my face in her vagina.
“One, two, three,” they chanted.
They waited for the moment when her juices would greet my tongue.
“Four, five, six...”
I sucked her clitoris, playing with her labia while sticking a finger in her anus.
“Ahhh,” she said.
I could see my duchess sucking someone’s member, as the heavens looked strange. It had to be the pills Homer had offered us that morning.
“The president has died,” he said.
“Hurrah to the general,” everyone said.
Eureka
I forgot all about Chucho’s quest in my sessions with the duchess, when we lost ourselves in a fog of love and marihuana in our cabin. The rays of the sun came through the curtains making funny shapes on the floor as I woke up later. It was a day like any other in Homer’s yacht. The sailors hurried along the corridors, while I rested on the duchess’ ample bosom. As I opened the curtains, I saw the blue sea under the morning sun, showing me the beauty of the world at that time. A noise at the door interrupted my reverie.
“Do you want to have breakfast in your room?” a voice asked.
“We are eating by the pool today,” I said.
My duchess opened her eyes the same colour as the sky, while kissing my lips, inviting me to rape her all over again. We had to stop behaving like newlyweds in order to enjoy Homer’s hospitality in his floating paradise. I admired the duchess’ body as she put her swimming costume on her bronzed
We toast to the revolution.
ALL THE GIRLS
To the revolution.
CARDINAL
Ora pro novis…
HOMER
We’ll have a firework display tonight.
CARDINAL
I won’t be here.
Miguel
I had arrived at Homer’s yacht with Jaramillo, who wanted to talk to the intelligent chimpanzee in the floating paradise, looking more like a floating shop. Chucho’s owner had given me a letter that I delivered to Homer on the first day, but everything was not bad. The liquor, the women and drugs were first class. Stupid bosses, industrialists, sexy and frigid women and lesbians wanted something from Homer. Some people went there on business and the rest for the same thing but Homer always kept something from them. Amelia and her women had left the yacht but Fifi had stayed.
The arms of a Russian duchess in exile had received me on the first day. Duchesses are the same as maids, but this one had beautiful breasts, like a couple of doves with rosy beaks. I could never understand why the communists had thrown her out of the country instead of Stalin’s moustache, but I think Marxism produces irreversible foolishness. Everybody congregated on deck as fireworks went up the sky, leaving a trail amidst the clouds.
“It’s beautiful,” my duchess said.
As she held my hands against her bosom, I wondered why I had fallen for her charms. Once I had to work to earn my bread, but Homer’s money had left me on my own. My wife had left me while my children had gone away in pursue of their dreams.
“Would you like an aguardiente?” a voice interrupted my reverie.
On looking up, I came face to face with a chimpanzee dressed as a sailor, pushing a tray towards my chest while showing me his teeth. We stared at each other for a few moments.
“Hi Chucho,” I said.
He showed me his teeth, filling one of the small cups in the tray.
“You must be having a nice time,” he said.
I took a sip of aguardiente, while my duchess gulped her drink.
“Thank you,” I said.
Chucho moved away from us, his legs struggling to keep the balance on the floor. He managed fine in Homer’s ship in spite of the human circus he had.
“Chucho is clever,” I said.
She nodded. “And weird.”
Chucho looked at the girls while offering drinks to the rest of the guests by the pool.
“Hi Chucho,” they said.
He uttered a greeting in Spanish, his hands reaching for the tumblers left in the tray while grinning at them.
“I have to work,” he said.
“Homer won’t mind,” the girls said.
Shaking his head, Chucho left a trail of water on the floor. He must have stepped on a puddle or the girls made him nervous. I remembered my trip to the mountains, where the parrot and the snake kept me company during the night.
“I’ll get some more drinks,” my duchess said.
She looked at her reflection in the mirror before moving towards the bar, where Homer spoke to his passengers.
“She’s nice,” Jaramillo said.
“I know.”
I had forgotten about the journalist, sitting by my side, drinking aguardiente and holding a roll of papers. I had seen them in Homer’s shop a long time ago.
“They used to belong to Homer’s invisible friend,” he said.
As I looked at the lines and symbols meaning nothing at all, Homer appeared with my duchess. After putting a few drinks on the table, she sat by my side.
“I must see Chucho,” Jaramillo said.
“He’s with Fifi now,” Homer said.
“They must be in love.”
“He’s a chimpanzee,” I said.
“Love has no limits.”
As Jaramillo left the table, my duchess sat on my lap, while searching for my hands. I don’t know how she could do so many things at the same time.
“You took a long time,” I said.
“Homer showed me his trophies.”
“What trophies?”
“He had a matador called Cagangosto, who has the head of a bull.”
“It’s strange,” I said.
She smiled. “Matadors are funny people.”
I thought the fine weather might end, as the sound of thunder interrupted the conversation.
“It will rain tomorrow,” Homer said. “The weatherman said.”
“They are never right,” I said.
Homer sipped his drink, the sun struggling to appear behind the clouds while the orchestra played a tango. Homer took his shirt off.
“Hurrah to Homer,” people said.
He struggled with his trousers, showing us his erect cock. Then he danced around the place, looking suntanned while the women clapped their hands.
“I want an orgy,” Homer said.
The girls took off their clothes, and the top deck looked like a nudist camp, as everyone pranced naked around the pool.
“Yes,” my duchess said.
On throwing away her panties, the breeze greeted her flesh, her teats going up and down while her cunt looked pink in the sun.
“You have shaved your body hair,” I said.
“Why don’t you join us?” she asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Do it for me.”
I saw fireworks exploding in the sky. At first I took my trousers off, but then my pants joined the rest of my clothes on the floor, feeling the ecstasy of the moment. A girl knelt by my side.
“Can I suck it?” she asked.
I let her put it in her mouth, her fingers drawing the foreskin up and down, until
the semen splashed her teats. Everybody cheered as I buried my face in her vagina.
“One, two, three,” they chanted.
They waited for the moment when her juices would greet my tongue.
“Four, five, six...”
I sucked her clitoris, playing with her labia while sticking a finger in her anus.
“Ahhh,” she said.
I could see my duchess sucking someone’s member, as the heavens looked strange. It had to be the pills Homer had offered us that morning.
“The president has died,” he said.
“Hurrah to the general,” everyone said.
Eureka
I forgot all about Chucho’s quest in my sessions with the duchess, when we lost ourselves in a fog of love and marihuana in our cabin. The rays of the sun came through the curtains making funny shapes on the floor as I woke up later. It was a day like any other in Homer’s yacht. The sailors hurried along the corridors, while I rested on the duchess’ ample bosom. As I opened the curtains, I saw the blue sea under the morning sun, showing me the beauty of the world at that time. A noise at the door interrupted my reverie.
“Do you want to have breakfast in your room?” a voice asked.
“We are eating by the pool today,” I said.
My duchess opened her eyes the same colour as the sky, while kissing my lips, inviting me to rape her all over again. We had to stop behaving like newlyweds in order to enjoy Homer’s hospitality in his floating paradise. I admired the duchess’ body as she put her swimming costume on her bronzed
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