Naked party

   Everything had become a little too overbearing in the inside, so I made my way outside. There was a large porch kind of thing, where people could have a smoke or just go down to the beach and relax there. Of course, being a naked party, the organizers had been smart enough to put several warnings on the sand for people to avoid the water. Most were drunk and it would have been a grave mistake for any of them to enter the water in that state. There was even a lifeguard on duty, which seemed to be very bored.

 I went around the house, all along the porch, and finally found a spot to be alone and in peace. There was some kind of mannequin offering cigarettes, reminding people to only grab one. You could light it up with a built-in lighter that the doll had on its hand. It was kind of a clever idea and I was in such desperate need to relax that the cigarette was essential for that. I didn’t really smoke that much in my daily life, but this kinds of parties made me resort to that kind of vice in a very predictable way.

 The air was rather warm that night, yet there was a wind blowing from the ocean that felt chilly and gave goose bumps in an instant. I found myself caressing my arms as I smoked and watched some people playing around on the beach and the lifeguard yawning, but still watching them very closely. I could hear the ocean and it could be seen but only because a red lantern, kind of a Chinese thing, had been lit in the middle of the beach, right at the center of the section reserved for people that had come to the party.

 Curiously, I had come because of a flyer I had been given in another beach, the official gay beach very nearby. The truth is, the gay didn’t really wanted me to have the flyer, it was a thing of the wind blowing and him being unable to keep his things in order. He must have felt ashamed when I grabbed the paper and asked what it was about. He explained and just let me have the flyer, obviously dreading the idea of a guy like me going to such an event. I have to say I wanted to laugh at him but I didn’t.

 They were giving the flyers to all hot guys on the beach and it was clear they didn’t consider me one. I wasn’t ripped, with an eight pack and tall as a tree. I didn’t have any of that, even if I had been working out at the gym like a crazy person in order to be looking nice for this holiday. I had planned it for a while, something that I would be doing for myself and by myself, so I really wanted to look as good as possible. I had even bought a speedo type swimwear that made me a little bit uncomfortable. The flyers guys weren’t helping me a lot in that department, but I just went through it.

 My attempted laughter at the flyer guy had been caused by the idea that I found the party they were promoting something silly and the kind of thing I would never participate in. So I just forgot about it until I saw the flyer back in the hotel, after having a shower and preparing to go down and have dinner. I read the whole thing and I have to confess I found it to be very interesting. So much so, that I decided to investigate a little further. I spent the duration of my dinner reading on my cellphone about those kinds of parties.

 The mere idea of being naked around other people made me laugh out of nervousness. I wasn’t able to imagine being in such an event because I had always been too self-conscious about my physical appearance. Even after so many hours of workout and dedication to my body, I was still ashamed to parade without a t-shirt, much less being totally naked. I still had some “love handles” as well as many things that those guys on the beach didn’t have. But somehow, I decided to take it on as a challenge.

 They couldn’t stop me from going and I had decided it was the perfect kind of thing to push myself and just try new things. Maybe it wasn’t going to be my type of party or my kind of people, but that wasn’t the important part. The idea was to experience something different, something that I would have never done back home, being afraid of running into someone or something like that. I had decided to be a little bit more adventurous, in order to accept myself a little bit more, to love myself more in order to live a healthier life.

So, silly me, I looked all over my luggage for the best clothes to wear. I knew it was supposed to be a naked party, but my guess was that everyone arrived clothed. So it could be nice to give the right impression from the first moment, even if things were going to change in a matter of minutes. So I chose one of my favorite shirts, matching shorts and flip-flops. I also picked the best underwear possible: they were clean, had really bright and beautiful color and could attract attention even if there was a fire in the place.

 The house was located down the road from my hotel. I neglected to realize I had to walk a long stretch of a very dark road, but I finally arrived and was kind of glad to see so many people there already. They hadn’t opened the place yet, so they were all waiting for the doors to open. I was very pleased to realize that there were so many different kinds of men: tall ones and short ones, chubby ones and athletic ones. And so on. It was very comforting to see that no matter who gave away the flyers, people would come because it was their right to have a nice time with many other different people.

 There was a large locker room, in which I was able to grab a tiny locker for my clothes. It was kind of chaotic at one point, but eventually everyone got in and had somewhere to put their things. A key was assigned to each person, corresponding to a locker, and you had to keep the key with you at all times. They asked people to never remove footwear only because it was a standard thing but it was also clarified that they did not use any glasses on the party, preferring plastic cups instead, which seemed like a better idea.

 The light in the locker room was dark but also very red, so it was hard to actually take a look at anyone. That made me feel a little bit more at ease of being in such a crowded room. But it was getting even more crowded as time went by, so I just took everything off pretty fast and locked my locker in order to move on to the main part of the event, which took place on most rooms of the house. From the outside, it looked like a typical summer beach house, but it was clear they had made some modifications in the inside.

 For instance, there was no proper kitchen. Instead, its place had been taken by a bar and some sort of snack area, each tended by a group of very attractive men. For a moment, it looked like something funny but the more time I spent there, the more comfortable it seemed. They clarified that if people wanted to have sexual intercourse, they could do it in the upper floors. The only limitation was that people had to leave their drinks in the lower level. Besides that, the porch and the beach were opened, also with restrictions.

 Up to the moment I went out to the porch, I had been walking around the lower level of the house, having some snacks and drinks. I even found myself talking to people but they would mostly leave for the upper level and I didn’t really feel ready for that. So that’s why I stepped out of the house and smoked for a bit in the porch. When I finished smoking, I decided to walk on the sand and just sit there for a while. Somehow, my brain felt filled with ideas and questions and so many things, that it made me feel tired.

 The lifeguard came down his post and walked towards a group of guys that were playing around and reminded them to keep it civilized, as drunken shenanigans were not acceptable. He seemed pretty serious so they stopped playing around and just went back to the house.

 He then turned to me and, to my surprise, he smiled. He started talking and then I answered and he sat besides me. I have no idea for how long I stayed there, talking to him. But at the end, we agreed on meeting the next day on the public beach, to talk some more and maybe have something to eat.

 I’m already looking forward to it.

I shouldn't care but I do

   When I woke up, the world was still blue. I had slept for only a few hours, which was very impressive because I had been drinking a lot the night before. However, I didn’t drink nearly enough to forget about the person that I was sharing the bed with. He was sleeping on his side, his face towards mine, gently breathing with his mouth slightly opened. I wanted to reach for his face and just caress it for a moment, but I realized it was still too early in the morning and it would be cruel to wake him up.

 I decided to only stare at him. I wanted to detail every single feature of his face and try to remember it for a long time. I was the kind of guy to have casual sex pretty often but they would normally leave after we had finished. Our connection to one another was always physical and, when all was done, they knew they had to leave without much fuss. That was the first time I shared my bed in a very long time and it was also the first time in a while that I could actually say that I really liked the person I spent the night with.

 Of course, we had sex. But it wasn’t the kind of passionate and rough sex that I would have with just about any other man. It had been special in a way, for him and for me, I’m sure of that. The way he handled his body and the sounds that came out of his body, as well as what he caused in me, all of it told me that it wasn’t just another crazy Friday night. It was something more and I really wanted to know why or how, because it wasn’t still completely clear. Maybe that was because it was so early.

 My head wasn’t buzzing or hurting, I could handle my liquor. Maybe he was a little bit on the weaker side, which I found to be adorable. Then, he said something in his sleep and the moved slightly, but remained facing me. He was really beautiful. Or maybe he wasn’t and I was just imagining him to be even more beautiful than he really was. Maybe I was idealizing the moment and everything was just as usual. Maybe the real problem was that I was feeling alone and empty, and casual sex had run its course.

 I had thought of that many times and it always hunted me how things change from one moment to the next. I mean, I love the way I behave and I do things because I like them. I don’t feel any pressure to settle down or to go out and find someone to fuck with. Not at all. I just feel this freedom inside me that lets me do anything that I want, wether it is being with that beautiful man in bed or working out or eating breakfast. The thought of breakfast though, made my stomach growl. It was very early but I really wanted something to eat. So I carefully got up and went out the room.

 It almost made me laugh how much shit there was around the apartment. There was a pizza box with two very cold slices just resting there. A group of people had come to have a nice evening of talking and games, so we had ordered some food after drinking several bottles of alcohol. I remembered how some were carrying others out the door, how I received messages of “I got home” while I was making my new friend moan in my room. It’s funny how life takes in one place and puts thing in the other.

 The fridge was almost empty as it was one of those weekends I had to go to the supermarket. Luckily, there was still some orange juice left because some friends had ordered two bottles of it to mix with vodka. That made me do a funny face, there by myself, reminding me of how much alcohol I had drank. I poured some juice on a clean glass and then grabbed some bread from the cupboard. As I was looking for the toaster, a sleepy voice greeted me and that made me smile from ear to ear.

 He was there, wearing my Avengers t-shirt. I had worn it the night before and then it had been thrown to the floor when we started kissing. Apparently, he was too shy to come out of the bedroom fully naked. He had also put on his underwear, some lovely red briefs. I put the toaster on the counter and greeted him, smiling. I then realized that I was naked, with nothing on at all, and that I was also probably sporting some crazy hair and bad breath. Thinking about that got me paralysed. His smile made me forget all about it in seconds.

 We had toast with strawberry jam for breakfast and we shared the glass of orange juice because all the others had to be clean. His skin was a bit pale, which I imagined was all about the drinking. I asked if he had slept well, and he nodded. He said I was very warm all night, so that helped him sleep better. It was so strange, to talk to him as if he was some unknown person that had just walked in. True, we had only met a couple of times, but we were past conversations as polite as the one we were having by the counter.

 So I just went and asked him if he had something to do that morning. He told me he never woke up so early and that he would only go out of his house in the afternoon, to have something to eat. So he was free until then. I asked about his parents, as he lived with them, and he assured me they weren’t the kind to worry too much. Actually, they never seemed to worry or ask any explanations from him. I found that to be really strange but left it there, because I know how awkward it feels when some person just drills you about your personal life. It’s just one of those things you shouldn’t do.

 In order to continue the conversation and not have some weird moment of silence, I told him I usually went out on Saturday mornings to the supermarket, as it was one of the moments of the week when my nearest grocery store would be almost empty, deprived of any crying children or annoying people trying to find products they would never buy. He laughed at that and I smiled because his laugh was just perfect. I realized then that maybe I was idealizing him but I decided I did not care, for once.

 Normally, I’m not the most romantic man ever.  But right then and there, I decided to go around the counter and just seat besides him and look at him as I did when we were in bed. He clearly thought that was a bit odd, but he stood still and just finished eating. When he did, I took his hand and just caressed it for a while. Then, I stood up from my seat, and walked slowly towards the bathroom, still grabbing his hand. He came gently and it was him who closed the door. We kissed the moment he did that.

 We made love again in the shower and then again in the bedroom, after we had cleaned ourselves thoroughly. I thought he was going to leave then but he decided to come with me to the supermarket. We spent the whole morning together and then we parted ways after he helped me get everything in order in my house. He left with a kiss on the lips and a smile. He hasn’t been back since then. It has only been a few days but I already miss him. Am I too sensitive or something? Should I just not get attached?

No. Again, I cannot care too much. It’s dangerous.

After all, we are in love

   The first thing I did, was giving him the biggest hug I could. It was amazing how I could feel his sweater against my face, how I could feel his warmth through the fabric and hear his heart beating beneath it. It was so real I cried, both in the dream and outside of it. I don’t remember how long we stood there, but I do remember I started seeing him in other places in my dreams, just running into him casually while he was saying something nice about me or about what he felt for me. I was over the moon.

 Actually, the full moon loomed above us for most of the dream; it was quite a beautiful sight. It was also nice to be able to touch his hand and hold it out in the open, in front of all the people in campus. Or at least I think it was a campus, it didn’t look anything like the college I had been to years before. It was bigger and with more faces and nice walkways lined with trees. And we would hold hands and just talk about movies and laugh about silly gossips that we had heard about people we knew.

 I have to say that, even then, I knew he wasn’t real. I knew that I was dreaming but it all felt so real that I didn’t mind. I knew what my real life was like and I wanted to have something different for a change and it didn’t mattered if it could only be in a dream. That’s why I tried to remember every single thing, repeating in my head as I went through it, because I wanted to remember every single part of that beautiful dream. I want to memorize his face, because somehow he was more than real to me.

 We even made love and he whispered in my ear how much he wanted to make me feel pleasure. I know, maybe that’s too graphic for some or to little information for others, but I have to say that also felt amazing. I could almost say that I was moaning loudly in my room, in bed, while we were having sex in the dream. We kissed a lot and he really seemed to care for me while we were together. I think that’s what everyone one’s in a partner, someone that really cares for you and who’s not there just to be there.

 Afterwards, we lay there talking a bit. We were tired and sweaty, but we couldn’t prevent our faces from grinning and smiling. We were too happy not to express it with our souls. I remember touching his face, feeling his stubble. He kissed my hand and then hugged me and I felt I could drown in his smell. I still have in my head, and I hope it never goes away. He kissed me like no one has kissed me before and, I have to admit, that maybe no one will ever kiss like that. After all, I lived that vivid dream in a moment but that’s all it was, it was just a dream, as unique as it was.

 When I woke up, I felt really good. I was smiling and I didn’t feel tired or worn down. It was quite the opposite and it has to be said that’s not very common. I usually feel I have just arrived from running a marathon. But not that time. I knew the alarm would go off in any minute, but that wasn’t important. My brain and even my body were still with him, feeling his body against mine and every single feeling he felt towards me rushing between both our beings. No idea if that makes sense at all.

 As I was in the shower and putting on my clothes, I thought of everything I had dreamt of. Some of it was already gone, something that was bound to happen. But most of it was there, for me to think about it over and over again. As I prepared to leave home for work, I realized how silly I would sound to anyone if I told them I had fallen in love with an imaginary person, with someone that only existed in my dreams. They would think that I was going insane or something worse.

 Then again, maybe I am. Maybe it is insane to think that a person that you own mind created is simply not healthy. Even I can say that it sounds crazy but I cannot stop thinking about him and about how he made me feel. In the bus, standing up facing the window and looking at cars and buildings pass, I realize that I don’t really care about what people think or not. He made me happy and it doesn’t matter where it happened or if he was just my mind creating him to make me feel less lonely.

 I couldn’t afford not to care, not to recognize he had been there. After all, I actually thought, for a moment, that maybe my head had not created everything about him. Maybe humans are connected in ways we do not yet understand and we were connected during that time. Maybe he exists, somewhere, and maybe he’s also asking the universe what this all means. I know how all of this sounds but sometimes you just have to believe in something to keep going, in order not to crumble and just give up.

 And I have to believe the love of my life is out there somewhere and that he’s thinking of me too. I would love to know if the face I saw in my dream is the same as the one in reality, but he will surely be thinking the same thing. I’ve found myself hoping he’s not very disappointed, because I’m not exactly a top model or anything like that. But maybe worrying about such a thing is just stupid, because he probably worries too about what he looks like. If he just knew I would love give him a hug and just feel him close to me, maybe that would make his worries disappear.

 Meanwhile, real life is going on as usual. I go to work and I go back home, I sometimes cook and write and do things to pass the time. But every now and then I find myself thinking about him. However, after a while, I just think about how lonely I feel and how nice it would be to have someone close to tell him all my worries and my problems and to laugh and be idiots at the same time. I sometimes think about that and it makes me sad because and over thirty and that hasn’t happened yet.

 I’m the first one to say age doesn’t mean shit but the older you are whenever you finally get to meet that wonderful person, the less time you will have with them. And that scares me a lot, because I want more than a few good years with someone. Shit! After so many years of avoiding any kind of emotional attachment to others, I find myself in a position in which I would be ecstatic if I could feel something for someone else. It would be hard and strange and new, but it could be worth the shot.

 But life doesn’t work by wishing, or I would have met him several years ago, when I was more of an innocent kid that ever before or after. I was someone else and that guy really believed in possibilities. Me, not so much. I know that the dream is just a dream and that, even if there’s a possibility he could be real, that doesn’t mean everything would just work according to my imagination or some kind of plan. You don’t plan life because she will never let you. She’s tougher than that, always.

 Anyways, I want to keep dreaming about him. He made me happy, he made me smile. No one achieved that in a while and I want that here, with me. I know how it sounds and how it looks, but I’m the kind of tired that has to use his imagination to go forward. Reality is not the kindest to me, although it could always be worse. That’s why I dream of him, because even if things really go south, I would have someone nearby to really live with, in every single of the word. And that word means hell of a lot.

 My only hope now is that, somehow, I can see him again in my dreams. I feel like I’ve done that before so, maybe, it could happen again. Maybe this time we could go out dancing or singing before going to his place and have sex. Because that’s something I’m not willing to give up.

 I go to bed tonight thinking… No, I go to bed wishing I will see him again. And then I shed a tear and realize how silly, childish and stupid this is. But I don’t have anything else to hold on to. Real or not, I really need him right now and I just know he will come. After all, we are in love.

Stupidity

   The moment I came out of the water, I felt I was being allowed to live for some more time. It had been torture to swim to such depths in order to enter that cave, which acted as a secret hideout for those people. They appeared to have mastered the art of diving but I had no idea what was going to happen, so my reaction when we finally got there was entirely comprehensible. I think that even they thought so, because they let me cough and curse for a while, until everyone was inside the cave.

 Then, as before, they drew out their guns and pointed at me. They had kept them in tightly sealed bags and now they could use them again to threaten my life. The crazed man that had pushed into the water was the closest ones and water pressure had done nothing to eliminate the crazy face he was looking at me with. I knew he was just working for his boss, making sure everything happened according to plan. But I hated him nevertheless, for his weakness and his lack of interest for anything else than his boss.

 We started walking through the rock, the path illuminated with small lamps pierced into the cave itself. Someone had spent their time doing that, making the place seem like some sort of secret lair, which reminded me of movie villains, the kind that twist their moustaches and laugh in the most horrible and hilarious way. But this man was not one of those villains, he was much worse and he was capable of things no one would even imagine, things that no comic book villain would ever do.

 He had used the natural caves of that region of the Mexican coastline, to hide whenever someone came too close to his dealing and business. The amount of drugs he sent to every corner of the world was simply baffling. I had the chance of seeing some of the packages they were preparing and it was simply too much to send without the authorities noticing something strange. And yet, they managed to do it and sell millions and millions of dollars a year with such a rentable business. It was scary.

 And there I was, in the middle of all of it, just because of a mistake. Just because I had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, but also because I had allowed someone to take advantage of my stupidity. I promised never to fall for that again, but those kinds of promises are always empty and stupid, because most times people do not learn from their mistakes and I have no reason to be the exception to the rule. This wasn’t the first time I did something wrong, but it was the first time it had such serious consequences. It was obvious I could be killed at any moment and why I hadn’t was making me uncomfortable.

 We finally got to a nice open gallery, where it was very cold and humid. The crazed man ordered me to stand still while some of the other men went ahead and checked if everything was fine. I just stood there, dripping wet still, trying to understand it all. Because it was obvious I should’ve been killed hours earlier but I hadn’t. Someone had prevented that from happening and I needed to know why. It was obvious their boss was the one who knew most, if not all, the answers and I had to speak to him.

 We were given clearance and moved ahead in moments. The next room was surprisingly lit by natural sunlight and had a pool of blue water in the middle. It was an outstanding view. So surprising in fact, that the crazy guy hit me with his gun because I had stopped to appreciate the space without his permission. He made my ribs feel broken, but I had to resist the pain and just walk on. We finally got to another illuminated room but this one was much larger and had no water in the middle. And he was there.

 Their boss was not the kind of man who I thought would be running an operation like that one. Maybe because the boss was not a man, but a woman. She had olive skin and curves that would have made her into a model in the eyes of any expert. However, she was delegating tasks and had a big gun strapped to her side. I also noticed a knife on her right sheen and a couple of scars all over her body. The woman had seen her fair share of battle and one would think that’s why she was fighting back.

 When she noticed me, she walked straight to the crazy eyed man and demanded her to tell him why they had taken so long. They started arguing about thing I did not understand, and I remembered I was in a place I didn’t fully comprehend.  I knew that they were dealing with drugs and that the man that had taken me there, to the coast, had been working with them, but that was it. It was not like he told me everything that was going on in his life. He had used deceit to take me there and I had fallen for it.

 She finally looked at me but didn’t say a word, she just smiled. Then, she ordered her men to bring a present she had prepared for me. I was very scared when I heard the word “present”. From someone like her, it was probably something not very pleasant and far from what a normal person would call “a present”. I stood frozen on the same spot, looking at her looking at me. It made me nervous but, somehow, it also disgusted me. It was as if I could feel what kind of person she was only by looking at her. And if my feeling were correct, she was simply the worst.

 Finally, the present was brought it. And it was none other than him, the man that had taken me with him to a luxurious vacation to the Mexican Riviera. I had been easy and stupid enough to accept, not seeing his probable true intentions. He was beaten up, his face all covered in bruises and cuts. But he was breathing and was apparently able to use his eyes because he stared at me and just said my name. He must have thought I was there to save him or something, as if I could do that.

 The woman came closer and explained that she knew everything that had happened. The man, a drug dealer, was her link to many mafias and other criminal organizations around the world. That’s why he travelled far and wide, making connections to strengthen their sales in other countries. He would often get men to help him, by making them think he was in love with them or at least very sexually attracted to him. And according to the woman, that ploy had worked surprising well for years.

 Apparently, many men had come before me, thinking they were there to enjoy the beach and the beauty of the region, only to realize that they were going to be used as drug mules or would be forced to work as dealers, under threat against themselves and their families. Some of those men were even closeted and that was another way to pressure them into doing whatever the organization wanted them to do. And others were just junkies, that would do anything in order to have at least some of the merchandise.

 He didn’t say a word after she finished talking about him and his men and his boys. He didn’t say a word. And he could’ve, even if it was hard to understand him. But he didn’t say a word. I had no idea what to do. I was trapped and would have to do whatever they wanted me to do know. They owned me because I hadn’t been strong enough to refuse his advances. I had been distracted by his looks and his charm. Stupidity runs wild in humans and especially in jaded men.

 She looked at me and, without saying one more word; she pulled out her gun and blew his head off in front of me. I gasped, but did not scream. His body fell lifeless on the floor, staining the beautiful clear rock with the darkness of the blood. The crazy eyed man grabbed the body and soon disappeared.

 The woman walked towards me and grabbed my face. She wanted to take a good look. For a moment, I thought I was dead, but then she called two men and told them to escort me to the airport. I would leave and never talk of anything I had seen there. She didn’t threaten me, she just knew I wouldn’t talk.