My beautiful Monday lover.Mondays belonged to Helena, a

My beautiful Monday lover. Mondays belonged to Helena, a dear friend who studied master's degree in art history at Ibero. She was 26 years old and she was a beauty. classic, with long, curly raven hair, large black eyes that They shone on a white face with a pointed chin. His body was of measurements perfect and stylized and she was a little taller than me. Three months before, leaving an academic event, we had dinner together and we ended up in the small apartment I was renting at the time, but that's another story. The magical thing was that I managed to convince her because her boyfriend in turn He was out of town from Saturday afternoon until Tuesday evening. tomorrow and because, modesty aside, they ended up liking our evenings at honor of the moon On Mondays the house was aired and deodorized. The maid took special care in cleanliness and I refrained from lighting my pipe or some cigar The house was impeccable to receive Helena, who arrived at five o'clock in the afternoon, dressed in denim miniskirts and tight bodysuits blacks that refined her stylized figure. When we crossed the threshold we ate kisses, with the hunger of a week. We didn't need preparation because she, in her car, she was already thinking about me and touching herself under her skirt, so she arrived ablaze. I was thinking about her too and, after Sunday rest, I was ready to receive her, naked under a Chinese robe, very nappy but comfortable and practice. The kisses on the lintel gave way to passionate caresses, with her leaning against the door. My hand searched for her soft skin, her delicate waist. She unbuttoned the bodysuit under her sex knowing that she was not wearing panties. Soon we were rolling on the floor playing the monster with two backs. His body was flexible and athletic, well worked and lean. for good upbringing based on fruit juices, tennis club and ballet classes. When I slid inside her I felt the special firmness of her walls muscular, I loved the hardness of his stomach, the fantasy positions that Sometimes he rehearsed, the long roar of his orgasm. At four to five in the afternoon I filled the bathtub with boiling water to which he added salts and foams. At five minutes to five he turned off the water and let it cool a little, so that After the first assault she immersed herself in the warm bath while I I prepared two long drinks. Wiskhi with soda, she drank, with whiskey in her rocks accompanied her. Old Parr almost always, sometimes a single malt. Cleaning was a ceremony for her, like everything else his body referred to. He took care of his diet obsessively, his exercises, her tennis shoes and her clothes, her perfectly shaved legs and pussy, his spa every six months... I was his exception, the bars that were on Mondays jumped: jean miniskirt, two drinks, two glasses of wine, a light dinner For me, incredible for her, that we prepared naked after the bath. She liked to see me cook for her, she adored seeing me eat. I dressed a salmon, a sea bass, a red snapper and put it in the oven, slow fire, to give time for a second round. He possessed her savagely, almost always penetrating her from behind, as she liked, enjoying the firmness of her buttocks, the delicious sight of my cock entering and leaving her vagina, at an increasing or decreasing rate, depending on the impulse or the moment. She needed a quick shower: she hated feeling dirty. As I returned, wrapped in my robe, I took a bottle out of the refrigerator. from Albariño, uncorked it and put it in the ice bucket; took out the fish from the oven and served it along with its companions, cut the bread and placed it, low volume, a Mozart quartet. She came out dry and perfumed, wrapped in a silk nightgown that It rested in its drawer. We ate while he talked to me about Siquieros and Orozco, about the disasters at the Museum of Modern Art, where he worked. Dinner was long and, while it lasted, I could not approach him. When he finished he gave me a long kiss and He fled to the bedroom while I stacked the dishes in the kitchen. I stopped in the bathroom to brush my teeth and empty bladder and reached her on the bed, naked, where he slowly caressed her miraculous body, searching for its sensitive points, desiring its hollows more private. He kissed her with dry lips, without haste, from her feet to her front, until his body woke up and arched with desire, demanding the attack of my rigid cock, which found its natural path, subduing her, making it mine, remembering that sex is also a struggle. Then we would fall asleep hugging each other and she would leave with the dawn.