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Pablo knew that his friend, Juan González would have spent more than enough of his time trying to solve the problem.
The Gonzalez family lived in one of the poorer districts of Valencia. It was a barrio at odds with the glitz and the fine words that the city government put out about itself and the city’s landmarks, of palm fringed squares and iconic buildings, on its website. On it were places where the tourists from all over Europe always flocked to, and where he and Juan would often go to take in the atmosphere; to meet girls and party as far as their wallets allowed them to do that, and where their command of other languages made possible.
Pulling chicks, whom they met on the dancefloor of the seamier night spots, didn’t need an extensive vocabulary; rather, a heart of stone. But that was a trick that neither managed too well, and it made them hunger for local talent and the chance of an enduring relationship with someone special.
The poorer parts of the city had their soaring crime statistics and their share of migrants, all of which put a strain on services and made you wary of whom you met on the streets after dark. Work for young guys like them was hard to come by, and so they took what they could. For his part, Pablo worked for an electrical company; Juan in hand to mouth jobs as he studied part-time for a construction management diploma and contributed to the household costs.
Forty-year-old Marta González had her pride and determined ways to make the small apartment, where she and her son now lived, as comfortable and clean as their circumstances allowed. Keeping up with changes in equipment and software, even minor glitches, was one expense that the González family did not have the means to fix.
‘How bad is it…can the machine be saved?’ Juan asked, standing by his shoulder, as Pablo peered at a frozen computer screen,. The ageing contraption was placed on a small table in a corner of the cramped living room.
The noise of the traffic in the street below came at them through the open window. In the day, it offered a view of the barren wasteland that was an unfinished square; the paths laid out and with benches along their routes, but the landscaping all but absent as the money ran out to complete the designer’s dream; that of softening the outlines of the monolithic buildings set all around it.
‘Yes, and for the last time, I think so.’ Pablo replied, somehow bringing up the task manager on the screen before him. He shrugged off his thin summer jacket, soon revealing strong muscular and toned arms with his T shirt taut against his broad chest. He and his friend worked out, obsessively so, but they received no complaints from those they hooked up with. ‘Just you back off a bit, amigo. I don’t need you breathing down my neck while I sort this out for you and your mother…’
‘Where is she, by the way…where’s Marta?’
‘She’s still at work. She goes from the day job to work in a café…’
‘Jeez, that’s a full-on life…’
‘Tell me about it. I’m doing the same…need that kit to find something better, to at least try…in the shit we call an economy.’ Juan moved to sit down beside his friend. ‘My chances of a new life are on there…resumés and work history. My father leaving us has dumped this heap on us, so Marta and I share this thing….’
Juan had grown accustomed to using his mother’s first name when in Pablo’s company; more conventional forms of address, and deference to her, muted but not pushed to one side.
Pablo heard the frustration, and anxiety, in his friend’s voice.
‘No te preoccupa…I’ll get it going.’
Juan nodded and began tapping his fingers nervously on the old rickety table used as a desk. Pablo couldn’t keep from feeling sympathy for his pal. Life was tough enough without Marta and Juan having to live with the knowledge that the head of the household had been cheating on them, and on Marta in particular, for some months. An ugly divorce now meant money was tight.
Pablo glanced at a photo of her and wondered how Marta could have been ditched for a younger woman. Her smiling face was framed by long, frizzy brown hair with blonde highlights. Gone was the black hair he remembered. Marta’s skin was a wonderful dusky brown and her smile dazzlingly bright, her figure to make you catch your breath. It had been toned through adversity and a household budget constantly under strain. She walked everywhere. He had seen her do that and had followed Marta at a discreet distance, keeping up with her purposeful strides. The woman possessed a raw vitality that her circumstances could not quell.
As their friends had told him, out of Juan’s hearing, Marta was hot. What sane man would leave her for a young chick, when Marta would bring it all. What was it that couldn’t be found with her in the marital bed?
How was he to know?
He’d never been with a woman older than him. Like his pals, when they were on the beach, they’d take to wondering how it would Şişli escort go with the older women that they saw sunning themselves, smoothing oil onto their skins and paying them no attention…as far as they could tell. It was up to them to make the first move, but the opportunities always passed them by.
But, and he didn’t tell Juan this, Marta wound his clock. The sight of her, sometimes in slacks and a flattering blouse, made him think of how wild any ride with her could be.
‘I feel stupid not knowing what to do,’ Juan said, cutting into his friend’s wandering, wayward, thoughts of his mother and what she brought to the eye, ‘but my father always handled the tech stuff. If it’s not about a construction and management programme…the articles that I download, I just don’t know what I’m doing.’
‘It’s cool Juan…we all have our talents and…shit!’ Pablo frowned at the screen. ‘Hey, it shows that there’s a program running in the background called protect your pc. I sure hope it not some malicious software….’
‘Mom told me before she went out this morning that she’d logged onto a site and that popped up.’ Juan shrugged, rubbed a hand over his face, darkened by the studiously tended stubble of his beard. ‘Our safe-surfing software has expired and it’s too pricey… so she downloaded it.’
‘It’s made to look safe, but it’s a virus in itself. It gets into your computer, slows it up then wants you to sign up for it so that the software can fix itself. One glitch may lead to another…and it may take money you haven’t got.’
‘So we’re screwed?’ Juan sighed in exasperation. ‘Is that what you’re telling me?’
‘Nope, and don’t give up so easily,’ Pablo growled forthrightly, waving a hand to dismiss what Juan had said. ‘I’ll upload something that I use. We’ll then get onto cleaning things up…wipe away all trace of it.’
‘But we don’t have any…’
‘Do you think I pay for stuff when it’s on-line and useful stuff can be downloaded? Go make me a coffee…and I’ll sort it all out, including the tangle of wires under the desk…under the table. Okay?’
‘Jeez, Pablo, I really owe you for this.’
‘Hey, that’s what friends are for. Now, how about that coffee?’
Pablo felt his spirits lift on hearing a key in the front door; then Marta’s chirpy voice call out. ‘Juan, you at home…the lights are all on!
‘Shit!’ Juan said under his breath. ‘Yeah, I’m home…Pablo’s here too!’
‘Hey, you boys want anything?’ she said looking at them in turn. ‘What brings you here, Pablo…is my boy asking a favour of you again?’
At the sound of Marta’s voice, he had turned his head away from the task of rebooting the machine after the tangle of wires had been sorted out and many fastened with some cable clips he had in his bag. Pablo found himself staring at her smiling face and taking in her appearance before him and at her bare feet and toenails painted a deep red. Marta was always seen to wear a silver ring on the middle toe of each foot. Jeez, she looked so good, possessing; a wild spirit who seemed to live life out as best as she could.
‘I’m…I’m helping Juan out…a problem with this creaking PC of yours,’ he stammered and feeling a fool for being caught out admiring her. He’d taken in a small tattoo on her right foot before, but now he saw another on her calf, as she moved to hang up a thin jacket and as her skirt swirled. ‘You’ve…you’ve got another tattoo…a small unicorn.’
‘That you should notice it, Pablo.’ Marta smiled at him as she heard him blurt it out. ‘It’s to signify strength…to deal with what we face in life. Juan suggested it…’ His friend shrugged and followed Marta into the small room that served as a galley kitchen. Pablo saw her lean around the door frame and smile at him. ‘What about that drink? We can all share a beer…have a sip or two.’
‘Sure, thanks…’ Pablo said and turned away and chose to finish in his tasks. He really…really…shouldn’t be going there, lusting after her and imagining her legs about him, the kiss of her wonderful mouth on his skin, but the sight of Marta, those tattoos on her legs and her low-heeled shoes that he had seen pushed against the wall, as she greeted them…they had set his imagination racing.
‘I’m all set, Juan…Marta,’ Pablo said as he went to stand in the doorway and met their looks his way. ‘I’d best be off…’
‘Have that drink first?’ Marta smiled, her unexpected but approving look upon him soon met. ‘What have I interrupted…is it boy’s talk?’
‘Nothing, nothing like that…we’ve dealt with a rogue software programme that you downloaded, mother…’ Juan told her directly. She was seen to flick a hand at her hair in evident irritation to be spoken to like that.
‘By mistake, Marta…it’s easily done,’ Pablo added, just to ease the blow. ‘No real harm’s been done. You just need to be careful…’
‘Or know who to ask if you need help,’ Marta added. She handed Pablo his drink. ‘You’re Sultangazi escort bayan doing okay in your work…so Juan tells me. I have to drag that information out of him…or I’d never know how you’re getting on.’
That she should even ask it, Pablo thought. ‘Yeah, I get by…’
‘We all do…we have to do that, don’t we?’ Marta observed as she moved past him. ‘Come and tell me what I did wrong?’
Pablo stood close to her as they stared down at the screen of the desktop, saw the progress bar slowly filling.
‘You just got taken in by someone passing off dud software on the web. You’d be surprised how many people fall for it…or dud emails…’
‘I won’t be doing that from now on,’ she said looking at him, brushing away at the tangle of her hair. Pablo gazed in open admiration of the woman before him. ‘Yes, I’ve got a tattoo underneath my bracelets too…’ Marta turned her wrist so that he could see the small knot placed there. ‘That’s the lot…I’ve got no more hidden away.’
‘Good…it’s a shame to ruin what you have.’ Pablo blurted it out like a besotted teenager. He sat down and his fingers moved quickly over the keyboard. He sensed that Marta looked around, to see if Juan was present. Her fingers brushed his neck.
‘You’re…you’re a good friend to him. He needs that…and I like to know that you’re around.’
‘And I like it when you are, but you know that don’t you?’ he answered on looking up at her. ‘You work all the time, but it doesn’t seem to show…any of it, what’s happening in your head. Instead…you get tattoos…destroy what you have.’
‘I’ll bear it in mind…’ Marta she answered coolly and turned away as Juan joined them.
‘Fixed?’ he asked.
‘Yeah, it’s fixed,’ Pablo smiled at him, reaching for his leather jacket as he did so. ‘I’d best get home, see what my flat-mates have been up to since I’ve been gone.’
‘Making out while they can and you’re not there,’ Juan laughed.
‘Juan, really!’ Marta still laughed in spite of the way she’d spoken.
‘It’s okay, Marta. Juan’s only telling it right. I’ve got a couple staying with me to help with the rent…they got kicked out of their girl’s place.’
‘You’ll want it all for yourself, Pablo…’
‘I haven’t found her yet….’
Juan interrupted their exchanges. ‘Hey, mama…Pablo’s fixed it!’
‘Really…well, that’s good.’ Marta smiled as she saw her boy seated at the table once more, but her attention was again drawn to Pablo and what he had said, perhaps unthinkingly. ‘Thanks again…his life’s settled.’
‘Adiós, amigo hasta la próxima vez… y compórtate.’ Pablo called out. He only saw Juan’s answering wave to him for what had been said; ‘that he should behave himself’.
Pablo took to the stairs; he did not look back; nor did he hear the door to the apartment close behind him. He soon heard clacking footfalls on the hard steps above him and turned.
‘Wait, Pablo…I forgot something from the shop…so I’ll walk with you, if that’s okay?’
He smiled on meeting her enquiring gaze upon him. Pablo failed to answer her right away. He had seen Marta’s graceful steps as she closed the space between them; delighted in the sway of her skirt as Marta sought to catch up with him; how her hair flowed around her slender face; the disconcerting sight of her breasts press against the fabric of her purple blouse with its large white polka dots; the grip of one ringed hand on the metal balustrade that was the stair railing. She looked so darn composed.
Everything about Marta was warm and inviting; inflamed his imagination. He sought to suppress the surge of longing for the woman; put from his mind how it would feel to touch her skin; feel the warmth of her thighs about his body; the fun to be discovered before finding her softest place; the rush to discover all that would then be shared.
‘Pablo?’ she prompted on receiving no answer. Marta heard him sigh. ‘What is it? Did I interrupt you two in your talking?’
‘No, it’s not that.’ He gazed at her. ‘It’s…it’s crazy I know, but I think of you. I can even admit that I’m infatuated with you…’
‘Am I still safe walking to the shop with you?’ she asked on a teasing smile.
‘Yeah, sure….walk with me…no problem,’ he murmured, drawing his eyes away from her as he pulled open the door leading out onto the noisy street beyond and the glare of shop signs and the streetlights. They were met by the sounds of the traffic, most of all by the penetrating drone of passing scooters and motorbikes.
‘Wait a moment?’ Marta clutched his arm to keep her balance as she sought to get her feet into the low-heeled shoes she had decided to wear.
Pablo took a sharp intake of breath. Her claims upon him had revealed a moment’s glimpse of the swell of her breasts; the strap of her blue bra and its flimsy lace, the colour stark against her dusky skin. He felt the rage of infatuation once more and the heat in his blood, the ache Escort Taksim of lust for her in his groin. It was maddening to have no one else to find the rush of release for all that this woman aroused in him and that he had given voice to.
‘That someone should abandon you…’ he blurted out and stepping away, ashamed to have given voice to his longing for her. He had made out the outline of her nipples as they pressed against the thin fabric of her blouse in the cool of the late evening.
‘That you should tell me now…’ Marta walked easily beside him, dwarfed by the young man’s bulk. ‘I see it in your eyes…when they’re on me. You should know better…’
‘Sorry to make it so obvious…but…’
‘Yes…but?’ she asked, arching her eye brows in enquiry and on a pouted smile.
‘But you are a beautiful woman…’
‘You’re a man of twenty-two…not fifteen and with no one to share what you feel,’ she said on giving him a wide, and knowing, smile. They had reached the small general stores at the corner of her street. ‘This is where I leave you…’
‘Not for long, I hope…now that we’ve spoken.’
‘That’s…that’s how it is for me too, Pablo. I can tell you that now…now that we’re alone. Seeing you again has made that a little more real. I’m not meeting with a boy anymore…and I know it’s not easy for Juan. He needs your friendship and…and I need my distractions…my fun…mi divertido.’ She gave him a huge smile, her teeth white and perfect between lightly rouged lips. ‘Not boys anymore, but men. Right, Pablo?’
‘Si…young men, but in my case I’d not be fooling around.’
He was feeling, and behaving, like a horny young man…a guy on the make and one speaking out his mind to a friend’s mother who was unsure in coming on to him. Life was complicated enough, without this. Knowing her, if only once, would, perhaps, break the spell and loosen her hold on him. She would have helped him move on to a more certain reality.
‘Which is just as well, Pablo, because I’ve had my fill of those fooling ways with that ex of mine…Juan’s father…and not knowing about it; not a damn thing!’
He was startled by her sudden flare into anger; the vehemence in her voice. They moved to let shoppers pass them and into the store.
‘I’m sorry for how I said that…’ He smoothed his fingers over his moustache on seeing her take in how he had behaved in speaking out.
‘The good-looking ones are the worst. They think it’s some God given right to fool around…’ Marta stood before him and offered her take on things between them, such as they were. ‘I’m not one of those who get taken in by such tricks…’
‘I never said you were or meant that in how I looked at you, Marta…’
‘I’m sure glad to hear it and I hope you don’t go encouraging that behaviour in Juan. Show some respect…’
Pablo could only laugh at this turn in their conversation. ‘I’m getting a real telling off…for finding you beautiful…and attractive to me.’
‘The good-looking ones, guys like you, sure don’t know how it goes for someone…for someone like me. Looks really aren’t everything.’
He had heard the measured pauses as Marta spoke out. His eyes took in how the breeze caught her hair and the way she gracefully brushed it back. He also loved to see how the breeze flattened her skirt against her thighs. Marta’s hair, her legs, her body…he wanted to feel their touch to him. She was putting him straight but was also flirting and wanting to leave him with something to think about; maybe to plague him.
‘Well, good night misses González…’
‘Marta. You’re not a little kid anymore and you’ve always been respectful. Marta is fine from now on.’
‘Okay. So, until the next time…Marta.’ Pablo averted his gaze from her wondering on when they would meet again.
‘That won’t be because I messed up with the computer…got something wrong…put a plug or cable in the wrong hole.’ He snorted a laugh on hearing that and Marta gasped, put a hand to her mouth. ‘Go away…you wicked boy!’
‘Young man. I’ve grown into different ways now…’
‘So I see.’ Marta said it before she turned on her heels and walked away.
Pablo followed her progress. He knew now, with livid clarity, that he needed to know of her and soon. He’d thought of her often enough and imagined leaning over her and feeling the warmth of Marta’s back against his body; of reaching round to caress her breasts; to cup and knead them in his strong hands, before pushing his dick slowly into her moist and eager slit; holding still for achingly pleasurable moments and feeling her bum crush against his groin as she brought them on, together and then thrusting it in deep, and having her pull on him, as they rode the wave to a tumbling release.
Juan’s computer was fixed; a friend’s lustful longing for his mother and the woman’s tattooed fleshiness and that silken skin, was something else to bring them together.
‘Is it a bad time?’ she asked.
Pablo had been jolted in his concentration on a technical problem at a client’s house. The van was all but loaded with his gear and Martin, the lead contractor on the morning’s case was anxious to get back to the depot before the siesta started.
‘Give me a couple…would you?’ he asked him.
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