Chapter 26.

  From last, Angel reopened the eyes. Not that he/she wanted him/it.

  The day was advanced, the light that entered from some open windows illuminated the environments.

  The night had abandoned again it leaving only him acidity and questions.

  There was still someone of the followers, the more thrown for earth, others on chairs, a pair on the divanetto. The personnel was cleaning where you/he/she was able, where the human wreckages were not heaped up. The counter of the cafe, for example, incomprehensibly free.

  Night of miracles.

  You/they had explained him that the miracles are only an answer to unknown energies, that primarily activate him in data places, in dates circumstances and, above all, only to data individuals: a caste of privileged, brought for nature to live ecstatic experiences. The recoveries sciamaniches are a test of it: psychedelic sessions finalized to the recovery. They happened from millennia.

  Trentamila years ago the modern man appeared, that he discovered able abstraction. The sacred images on the walls of the caverns were the first whimper of it, the first cry that our ancestors he/she anchors infants they launched toward their distant children. Abducted from the themselves parents, translated a jumble of incomprehensible experiences with the language to them congenial. At first they called them of the, angels then, elves elsewhere. Today alien.

  The abduction of the conscious self toward stadiums of superior conscience as abduction is decoded: today lifted bodies, dragged out of the beds, from the houses and ducts in bright flying cars. And analyzed as guinea-pigs.

  It was what Angel you/he/she had lived that night. But, unlike the others abducted, he knew not to be him ever moved from the house in which it was found. For how much accursedly realistic you/he/she had been the experience.

  A sudden regurgitation brought him obscene tastes to the mouth. It came I lead the reason. You/he/she had heavily been spiced, you/he/she had slept up to half afternoon. You/he/she had made sex but he/she didn't know with whom. That call still the arrapava. Soft legs and hard cazzo. But not only.

  An image on all devastated him/it dominating every effort of his to rationalize.

  It had veduto his/her child. From the conception to the birth.

  The spirits, that had always excluded him/it, had welcomed not only today it, but also brought at the end of the trip.

  But did an end exist for that trip?

  Another regurgitation, vomited gastric acids. Fortune that was fasting.

  The fit of dizziness seemed to decrease. It was time to depart.

  In garden the light overwhelmed him/it. The sun was tall late afternoon. The black Peugeot an oven.

  It opened wide the glasses, until the climate it didn't enter to regime.

  Turned on the radio for nervousness and it kept on jumping of station in station.

  Our brain works as a ricettore. You/they had explained him. The DMT serves to make frequency change him, to tune in him/it on a channel that we would not normally succeed in perceiving.

  Useless to relieve himself/herself/themselves on the device: it extinguished the stereo and him it allowed to crush by his/her confusion.

  You/he/she was already launched on the Valassina, direction Milan.

  The city drew near, a void inside it grew.

  It translated him/it as hunger, and in the conviction to appease it crushed her/it on the accelerator.

  In less than mezz'ora the car was already in playpen.

  It climbed only in the house for necessity: anxiety to throw back what had discovered to live inside of itself it pushed him/it to throw out there himself/herself/themselves in the mad world. But it was not able certain to face him/it so maltreated. It neglected the rooms, the books, the couch: closet and bath were all of this that served.

  It was ready in an instant.

  Last repaired to the mirror: perfect. Nobody would have noticed after all never that low light to the look, that child of the anger that grew inside of him.

  Descents in the street and with a depth sigh sent away the demon.

  Milan started to become animated of lights and sounds. It impended on him a dizzy bent building, on whose surface in glass the other giants custodians of the city were reflected.

  It aimed toward the center and it found again soon him at the end of street St. Mark. The sun that channeled its rays from street of the bear, beat on the church square and on the red façade of the church slashing her/it some shades of the trees.

  Between a historical enoteca and a place of tendency, temptation to stay himself/herself/themselves was already strong. To the divanettis to the open one, a youth enriched of rhyming himself/herself/itself entertained some nothing gracing himself/herself/itself of his/her own perdition. But that evening wanted Brera.

  It was the desire to impose himself/herself/themselves a choice, above all. An affirmation of wish that he/she remembered to be still alive.

  In which small opening among you husk distant you/he/she was chased that night? The feeling to have been stolen by itself same anchor didn't abandon him/it. You/he/she had never believed that its life belonged him. But you/he/she would ever have thought about being himself/herself/themselves one day confrontation with his/her satraps.

  The anger to live pushed him/it so in the middle of the movida. Brera was a zone in decline in comparison to the Fastis of the gold years, but you/he/she had accompanied his/her worldly ascent: Angel owed him thankfulness. And him, small caudillo from republic of the potatoes, thought well about not owing to be compared with the big calibers of the night: it turned him/it the idea to go down in list with the brushwood of the Milanese vip that you/they jousted in the zones more cool.

  But it was a beautiful to be satisfied. The building of the academy witnessed capannelli of fighette and he scosciate they already captured every attention. Many colored insignias pointed out the street of the fun and there the youths scurried about, as dragonflies around a lighthouse.

  Sudden hesitancy gathered him/it, while to its left he/she saw a dark alley lose himself/herself/themselves among severe walls: street Dark Flowers it practiced its last seduction. But Angel neglected the call of the surrender: to fade away to the others would not have helped him/it to find again himself.

  Clear flowers, then Madonnina and return. It threw looks not returned among the tables to the open one. Some coppiettas, friends' tavolate, girls' groups.

  It started as to the times of the high school, the towing frenzy prevented him from perceiving been excluded.

  It entered a place, you/he/she would not have known how to say its name. The bench tragically overflowed of salty foods. You drink a glass and they will be yours the only rule that counted for the happy hour meneghini.

  It ordered a Negroni, load asked him/it.

  It tried to cross some look, the females didn't miss. But something didn't work: nobody acknowledged him.

  He/she asked another of it. Tracannò, regardless of the brittleness of his/her physicist and a psyche already squirted out orbit.

  To launch obsessive looks didn't seem to get the usual results, then it got up, staggering near the stool, and it aimed straight to a tavolino with two superb fillies.

  The world that turned frantic around him gave him the regurgitation and sour reflussi they reached him the mouth, a mix of gastric juices and nightmares decomposed that it hastened to ringhiottire. The infamous breath nauseated the two table companion, that not even him premurarono to understand what the intruder was them saying: all it took is reading the disgust on their faces because the outcast him discostasse.

  It returned to the bench, it grabbed on you and it ordered a third Negroni.

  Almost to the fund of that glass, it realized to be forgotten him to eat. It had been being fasting before for the evening, therefore there was no pity: it was drunk lost.

  Nevertheless, he/she didn't succeed in getting away himself/herself/themselves the figa from the hea
d. Also because, he/she knew, if you/he/she had stopped thinking of us, the alien kidnappers would again have overpowered him/it.

  It tried a new approach. It didn't even understand him thing you/he/she was saying or doing or with whom; it perceived only the taking of the buttafuori that if it dragged him/it out of the place and it cast him/it to earth.

  What hostile public surrounded him/it! All the eyes were him I set, while it was rolling him on the stage to the feet of the stage: they didn't succeed in being detached himself/herself/themselves from his to wheeze, despite they had disgust of it.

  He/she vomited acids in the street, before succeeding in getting up.

  As a roulette, the head turned thin to halt himself/herself/themselves on the definitive choice: that to return him of it to house.

  Thing other stayed him? Abandoned wreckage to the tides, rinses of barrel emptied to earth destined by the drainages to take the street of the sewers.

  For the street, it kept on devouring with the eyes every girl it passed nearby him, only aware activity granted him the alcohol. And that to slobber constant dictated the figure of his/her defeat.

  It accelerated the footstep to every refused look, so he found again under house without almost having realized.

  Apart the work to center the lock, the following gestures were followed with disheartening custom: turned on the light, closed again the door, you void the pockets, removed the shoes, inserted the latrine, turned on the computer.

  Now the computer was the mirror of its greeds. Power on for inactivity, the humming of the processor relighted in him the perverse desires which you/he/she had had to abdicate.

  A window on the sin, to that time at night the blue lights of the monitor in lighting were the last call to the vigil of the senses.

  The operating system was by now ready, it opened only for scruple the mail and the social network. After having basketed a myriad of useless messages, it realized that Laura was on line.

  Hi he/she wrote her without thinking of us. You/he/she was reduced he/she waits for under the conditions not to think anymore.

  You responded.

  And he gave her rope.

  You threw in that conversation as if it were the point of arrival of the whole day. Or of the whole life. It is protected in his/her den, it was rediscovered bright, persuasive, cynic. The head turned and with it mirabolanti deceptive words, all those that you/they had remained in his stomach that evening.

  Laura tried timid defenses but the seducer it overwhelmed her impietoso.

  It alternated flatteries and reproaches, with mastery. It now favored the vanity of it, it now frustrated the pride of it. Above all it turned on the desire of it.

  He/she wrote her some tried pleasures the preceding night, lying.

  You immediately didn't respond, they always passed that second in which he imagined her/it stunned by the imagination, with the breath cut in throat, the language that raced to dampen the lips, incapable to give words to his/her own feelings.

  Without surprise, it found again him excited. The pantalonis were already untied, and the hand was already run to the object.

  Are you touching yourself? he/she wrote her to involve her/it in the same game. He/she thought about scandalizing her/it.

  Yes it confirmed him instead the small one.

  You/he/she could not stop anymore, that bluffs you/he/she had to be discovered, in all of his/her beauty. It opened with Laura a videochiamata. You accepted and a greed of triumph made him jump the heart in breast.

  You/he/she would have entered the screen, if you/he/she had been able. But he/she thought well instead of withdrawing himself/herself/themselves on the chair, supporting himself/herself/itself to the back: with the power on monitor as only source of light, the faint light would have him/it favorite, hiding the signs of the defeat on its face.

  The time of connection seemed him eternal: the emotion salivates with attends him. Then from the window a blonde ragazzina appeared, dressed with a pink shirt, that strove him to smile. The desk is sat to, in front of the screen, the shot showed the bust and the face of it. What it happened under to the table you/he/she was left to the imagination.

  «You were waiting me?» he/she asked her.

  «I have started alone.»

  «You continue then.»

  There was no heat in his/her voice. The voice of his/her/their master, that suffocates the dependence faking separation. It neglected how much work cost him that evening to pretend: failure as man, could not afford also a failure as actor.

  Laura had taken to caress him the breast but it did him/it with irritating artfulness. Under the light fabric, only a maniacal mind could imagine the to contract himself/herself/themselves some nipples.

  «No, no!» it howled angry, without going out of the shade. «What you do?»

  «I do what you have asked me.»

  Stiffened on the throne, Angel spoke severe.

  «Not this way! Before it opened the curtain, you were giving to like you. Your hand was favoring your will, it rubbed you among the thighs, it was satisfied of your heat. You wanted to discover you rotten, to draw even more to like to feel you porca. Now, your will doesn't count anything.»

  Laura listened petrified. With the shelled eyes, it was as if it fixed surprised his/her own lust.

  «Thing is that posture? Not arraperesti not even a truck driver in abstinence! Right-hand on the shoulders, arches your body, offer yourself, not to me, but to yourself!»

  Laura obeyed. The falling shoulders took a stand. The hand gave as to stretch himself/herself/themselves the shirt and the passage on the nipple it did her/it shiver. Angel perceived and rejoyced of it.

  «You now proceed. I am only here for admiring you.»

  The right hand of Laura got excited under the shot, while the left was slipping himself/herself/itself under the shirt. The skin the skin and the pleasure that it derived touched now you/he/she could not hide of it anymore.

  «Get away the shirt.»

  Also the hand of Angel had taken to give him to do. It massaged the member from inside the briefs, foretasting the moment in which you/he/she would have thrown out him.

  Laura was not obeying: you/he/she was favoring. It was as if you/he/she had started to attend to the desires of the male in the certainty to increase so the pleasure of both.

  You massaged anchor before getting out of himself/herself/themselves the shirt. But when it did him/it, he/she filled with grace the servant.

  To naked breast, you/he/she could not do anything else other than to complete the work without need of applications.

  It removed back the chair, so much to be entered in full the shot. Adorable panties of white cotton were the last obstacle to its nature.

  It allowed to calm down himself/herself/themselves the impetuousness of the masturbation and when it was calm, without losing eye the television camera, it got up. That fixed look in the objective was a picked and defeated challenge.

  You removed from the panties and him he/she still sat to narrow legs.

  «Good, Laura, good» it slobbered the man. «You want to see the effect of your power?»

  Stretched out in before the basin, lowering himself/herself/itself of release the pantalonis.

  It had a beautiful cazzo and he/she knew him/it. On the women it knew the effect: it was sure that also the ragazzina would not have disappointed him/it.

  The two pigs sexes were massacring himself/herself/itself, at the same time, twisting himself/herself/itself and panting in unison, as if their bodies had been indeed to contact.

  And they looked him, there where they were able. They didn't lose him sight a second, fearing the moment of the orgasm to miss, more and more nearby.

  In a last growing of it howls, the small godette.

  An instant later, a warm throw of sborra upset him on the shirt of Angel.

  With an unworthy bark you/he/she was freed some seed.

  He/she saw her
in the shot: you/he/she was looking at him/it. Her eyes were fixed on the window video. And they were not the eyes of all the puttanes that you/he/she was beaten after having made to enjoy her. They were eyes that you/they saw with dismay the fruit of the guilt: the sperm on the suit, a bleakness onanistico that never in his/her life you/he/she had tried. And as unworthy show gave him/it proper to Laura.

  You/he/she had not been ashamed of his/her nudity, of his/her excitement, of the masturbation and of the ejaculation. It now had of it, because it felt him spied.

  Coma the preceding night, with the alien voyeurs that studied him/it.

  Definite of a line, it threw him on the mouse with the dirtied hand. Regardless of everything, of the unexpressed questions that it recognized on the face of the girl, it removed the connection video.

  It was only again: you/he/she had escaped to the spy that him same you/he/she had evoked.

  Rhythmically the breath appeased him, a comforting habit returning.

  You relaxed and for the first time in that day it felt him really tired. It was him/it, destroyed since the preceding night, but you/he/she had not wanted to realize of it yet.

  The drugs psicotrope, the hallucinatory experience, the lack of sleep, the fast, the drunk one and now the orgasm.

  Closed the eyes for an instant, a solo.

  It was enough for making to collapse him/it dormant.