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He smiles and begins to drool at the prospect of his favourite meal, which has been there for some time now.
He yawns.
Why me and not someone else?
He asks himself the same question nearly every day.
Why me and not him?
He doesn't actually need an answer, as long as he gives him what he wants...something to play with. Something that sates him and yet leaves him feeling empty.
He belches - damn acid reflux -
gets up from the dirty, unmade bed and thirstily gulps down some water from a plastic bottle in an attempt to get rid of the taste of whatever the hell he'd forced him to swallow.
He sniffs, slips a hand inside his pants and lightly touches his cock and balls.
He pauses for a few moments as he looks at himself in the mirror and tells himself he’s not an ugly man. Sure, he could improve things if he took a little more pride in his appearance,
but he’s OK like this. A glance over at his favourite meal in the corner. All that matters is that he always gets what he wants.
And he has.
But he doesn’t fancy it right now.
Perhaps his appetite will return after a cold shower.
He scratches at his beard. He hasn't shaved for...goodness knows how many days.
He turns on the cold tap, cups his hands under the stream and splashes the water over his face, which is either just tired or numb from those fucking tranquilisers.
He turns the tap off and watches as the drops of water fall from his face. He takes off his dirty t-shirt, uses it to dry himself off and tosses it casually onto the bed.
Before getting in the tiny shower, he again casts his eyes over to the shape in the corner and realises he is changing his mind.
His hunger is returning.
He wants to gorge himself like an animal that has just emerged from hibernation. The thought prompts a twinge inside his pants.
‘Behave!’ he tells himself.
His breathing starts to become heavy and laboured. Beads of sweat begin to form on his brow. He’s getting aroused; it always happens like this.
Another glance at the shape in the corner. Another little fiddle downstairs. His mouth begins to water.
‘Later! She’s not going anywhere,’ he tells himself. ‘She’s all yours...’
“All mine!”
He smiles because he knows it's the truth.
He takes a deep breath, lets his pants fall to the floor and uses his tongue to suck the air through his teeth. He loves the feeling it gives him, the sensation on his teeth and gums.
He enters the shower, lifts up the mixer tap and turns it all the way to the right. He wants it ice cold, like always.
As the water beats down relentlessly on his muscular back, he begins to anticipate what will happen when he has finished washing himself.
The saliva begins to taste sweet in his mouth and the urge in his groin becomes uncontrollable.
Thankfully, it’s nearly time to get out of the shower...
CHAPTER 4
‘Is it really me that should be ashamed?’
Chantal poured herself a glass of sparkling mineral water and sipped it slowly but determinedly, fuelling herself with some non-alcoholic Dutch courage.
‘It's them who should be ashamed, paying me a pittance for two years and...’
There was a thud as she angrily thumped her fist on the table.
‘...and then letting me go. Morons!’
Chantal became enraged every time she thought back to when she was fired, or, more accurately, they refused to renew her contract. What pissed her off the most was the shame she felt at being unemployed and living off benefits of four hundred euros a month.
Four hundred euros...
She'd dedicated her life to her studies for four hundred shitty euros a month. Oh, and an Economics degree. Which she could use for...making a paper aeroplane or maybe wiping her arse. Oh yes. That was Italy in 2016. On the one hand, there were people with a career spanning more than forty years who weren't about to retire anytime soon; and on the other, there were millions of young people who would give their eye teeth for a job - any bloody job.
Unfortunately for Chantal, she was one of those young people.
She took out a fag, went into her bedroom and switched on the computer. Her long, drawn-out drags meant she was down to the butt in no time.
Chantal opened the chat site and tried to think how she could possibly explain her plight to AlfreDario77.
There was an unread message.
03/02/2016
AlfreDario77 20.32
Fine...you could have just said if you didn't want to chat anymore. If your manners ever come back, you know where I am.
“Fair enough,” she said to the screen. “I'd have been pissed off if someone had done that to me.”
She took another puff and drummed her fingers on the desk, trying desperately to think of how she could respond.
04/02/2016
SadChantal 10.15
Hi...
I’m so sorry about last night. It’s not that I didn't want to keep talking to you. Something came up.
That was fine to start with, while she waited for some inspiration on how she could deal with the whole work thing. Also, she wanted to be sure he was online, which would be confirmed by the little green circle next to his name.
She casually rolled the wheel of her mouse to scroll up the screen in search of yesterday's messages.
It might not be the most fun and light-hearted topic for most people, but it is for me. What do you do? For work, I mean.
And then...
Don’t tell me I’ve touched another nerve with work!
She decided to try and respond to that final comment, which was probably the easiest to cope with. She wrote her message but waited a couple of minutes before sending it, hoping he would come online.
Nothing.
She opted to finish the fag with a triple drag that brought tears to her eyes, before stubbing it out firmly in the ash tray, steeling herself and decisively hitting the return key to send her message.
04/02/2016
SadChantal 10.18
You're right. You did touch a nerve as far as my work is concerned… :-(
She focused on what to type next, her fingers once more drumming against the desk. The sentences were beginning to form in her mind. She was almost there when she was distracted by a familiar ping.
04/02/2016
AlfreDario77 10.19
Hey...welcome back! You took your time...
04/02/2016
SadChantal 10.20
Sorry again about last night...
04/02/2016
AlfreDario77 10.20
No problem!
Chantal thought about what to say next, but he beat her to it.
04/02/2016
AlfreDario77 10.20
So I did touch a nerve with work? I'm sorry. I'm all ears if you want to offload...
She knew it was time to come clean. If there was anyone who should be ashamed of themselves it was those tossers at Robobi's, who had refused to renew her contract after turning her brain to mush for two years with bills, receipts, tax returns, payslips and whatever else.
Bastards!
Her jaw tightened every time she thought about it.
04/02/2016
SadChantal 10.22
I've been out of work for 5 months...
Only eight words, but that was all that needed saying for now.
04/02/2016
AlfreDario77 10.22
Sorry to hear that…
04/02/2016
SadChantal 10.23
Tell me about it…:-(
04/02/2016
AlfreDario77 10.23
Do you know what? I might be able to help you out...
04/02/2016
SadChantal 10.23
Really?
04/02/2016
AlfreDario77 10.25
I run a B&B in Grosseto, Tuscany. It's mine, I own it. Last year, the girl that was helping me out decided to move on. So I'm looking for a willing replacement.
