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experience of the blog, keywords, pages read ... so na sex.

or

She is coming. Then caresses me from the back to the inside of the buttocks, stopping at its center, which caress my sex to respond in a deep pulse that elevates it even for a moment. Ask applause. More, more, shout from the bottom.

Again his hand gently touches me, my sex again expands upward, eloquent greeting. More palms. Repeat several times, palms swaying to the rhythm of my sex, my sex according to the palms, full control of them on me.

I'm just this part of my body, I feel like the ocean feel the waves, struggling to escape enormous strength. Finally she gets on my back, without removing the hand of my heart, and expertly leads me, while I turn to my sex scene preceded by extended pulse caused by it when you want, accompanied by clapping and cheers.

My hope is clear, eloquent, palpable, painful even. She comes over and whispers: Well, you have behaved very well, you deserve the award ... if you pay me, I make here a straw, and a little more, fuck. I say no. In one gesture, the music stops, turns off the light.

I'm on stage, still naked.

She walks away.

Chile, May 2002

Rolling, it gets back to me, telling me that hug, hands on her breasts while your hips move forward and backward, in a silent invitation to love. I feel my body responding to her touch as I think each of the people in the room, staring at me and in the relief under my clothes, which, almost invisible until just now, takes shape.

She takes off her skirt and blond curls will reveal that only wearing stockings and garters. Back to me, put my hands on her pubis, and his only movement is an undulating hips from side to side, brushing against his body. With my fingers trying to find his center, his movement would be impossible, does not cooperate at all, do not want my hands from entering it.

The crowd, enraged, shouts: what you see, that aside, Tongo, everything that made me so gracefully before and not now desire to show my naked shame bulky.

It is separated from me, the lights come to full intensity, and shows me the room, proud of the result, bulging hindered by clothing, restrained, uncomfortable. I turn to give back to the audience, but do not avoid anything, because the mirrors on the back of the stage, in the center of the reflection of the room I am, in underwear, luckily without socks. I'm not sure you want to keep, I have already proved that he could step into the arena and display. But such a view is a little late, I say, I can not disappoint the audience, my audience.

She is coming.

It makes me profile again, and standing by my side to hide the ceremony no one, introduces an expert hand under the waistband of my clothes, underwear, and an expert touch, almost instantly, making resume form, missing sharply to the embarrassing view mirror. For brevity of your caress I sense you want to get just a bas promising to save the mystery for the next act, but I feel so down and the public, disappointed.

Determined underpants off me, but in a somewhat functional, without fanfare, like a nurse, as natural in the world. He squats, sideways, so that I can not be fully seen, my sex, freed from the pressure of clothing, lying almost horizontal, concealed by the legs. His back is now before me, bends his knees, showing her ass, inviting me to be kissed.

I do, I separate your hair with your hands, and then my tongue reaches the soft folds of skin. The taste and the eternally repeated gesture makes me forget where I am and sink my face into his body, the smell of a woman, always persecuted and sometimes achieved. I notice the familiar beat of my blood between the legs, and my subconscious worries about it, my conscious is all he turned on the soft touch of your skin, and my hands caressing her nipples and my tongue open the way to its center . There seems to displease him, his movements accompany mine, supplemented. Raising your body, or download and my mouth go to where she wants to drink.

So far, apart from being on a stage, surrounded by mirrors and lights, which had seen of my body is what I usually show on nude beaches. Naked, yes, more excited, too, but within reasonable limits, nothing flashy. If I were at the beach, at this time could go to sea without feeling ashamed, dive into the water, swim a little and leave, rested.

But nor am I in the sea, and so there is sand under my feet, no sun, is a circular source which illuminates us, that our bodies silhouetted, the rest of the stage in total darkness, and of course , my body has long ago surpassed the limits of discretion.

Before me, in white, the two volumes that end up the back in black, the place in which I'm sinking my face right now, touching the nose, lips, tongue, hands caressing her breasts.

My body responds to these feelings, deep, thick beats, delicious to be nothing that restrains, forgetting the world, concentrating on it, in their movements to escape, to avoid passing my hands around her waist, sink my fingers into his hair I get lost in slippery paths, I feel on my skin and my lips, your body is ready to accept mine.

In this, the audience shouts, "we see it, teach it" back to reality. What more want to see? and I realize that my sex, missing the horizontal, now stands, standing between my legs.

And this is what we now see, and want to see better, and for this have been, and for this they paid for. She quickly turns away from me, stands up, and now yes, now my penis stands, dominant, arrogant, at length, pointing to heaven, while the room applauds.

(Continued)

She approaches

She is coming. While I was joking with each other, hello handsome, you're doing here alone? is approaching. Laughter and rumors in the room, dark snuff the smoke of the indirect light pass through with difficulty, blinding spotlights in the ceiling, and rumors laughter abruptly stopped, as a slam, asking her: come with me? I do not bite, I assure you, and recommence in another group becomes the subject of comments. Wherever she is, the cries before: "Come, take off the thong, which is seen, Tongo" fast become negative, those with a weak voice, when she grabs them by the hand, gently pulling them to the stage. Shy denials - no, no, in all shades, inhibited, no, no, no please, blunt, not at all, but above all, pathetic rabbit giggling - voices that fail to utter a word.

She is coming. Vaguely I hope you to enjoy along the way, find another target on which to launch, another to be who dares to follow her on stage, that oriental smoking cigarette after cigarette, one of the Russians outrageously drunk. But I know that a drunk darkly outshine the show, and an Oriental is too weird. Somehow I feel condemned, not by what they say about the room, which I do not care, but for my own pride. I hate to think that in the future and for ever, to remember this moment, I say unto that day when I did not dare.

I can only hope my neighbor, just like me. But his gaze distant, indifferent, as boring to be there, create a cool fence around it. Luckily, she considers it a wager: hello, you get bored? come and dance with me up there, Acariciame, I have like a real man, not one of those who laugh in the background and run to escape or escape is run as a female really look at them. Will, you, the South background, brave, go out two by two, you can not with me. But the South background do not move, and the neighbor continues in his executive position before reading the balance sheet.

She continues, do not speak English? ¿Sprechen sie deutsch? Could it be that what you understand is the Greek? - Laughter in the back of the room, happy to not be them the object of sarcasm - Come with me, if you do not speak Spanish, at least practically French. And the laughter gets worse, tuck the starter, which is cold, shout from behind a column, put it better hand, another voice. He continues impassive stare, inhuman, captain of the Bounty before the mutiny. She will not waste any more time. Above all do not look at me say, disguise, eyes fixed on the glass.

She is coming.

Set aside the table, is placed directly in front of my eyes, my strategy is sinking. She takes me by the chin, I like men with mustaches, cover more territory when it licks, and began to pull me. Sure, I can resist, beat me to the seat, lapa associated with the rock, one with the chair. And then never forgive myself. I'm finally standing, shouting rages, relief and panic, I go three steps, I'm on stage, and I stop, paralyzed.

Ask applause, and while trying to reassure

"Let's dance a little, nothing happens, we will warm up a bit to the room. Hold me tight and do not worry about where you put your hands "he whispers in my ear. A romantic ballad sounds, lights and dance decrease. I put my hands on her hips, and she falls to the bottom, I can see the grill of her stockings under her skirt. Move your hips in a gentle wave. He leans over my neck, hot breath on my neck behind and continue dancing. His hands move from my chest to the back, caressing my arms while delicately unbuttons the cuffs of my shirt.

Gently caressing my chest, on the clothing first, then opening the buttons and moving the hand between the cotton and the skin, touching on the areolas. While we danced on stage and the audience does not exist. I say we take a little joy to the room, if not, will fall asleep. He kisses me, while I removed his shirt and drops to the ground.

He turns away, and in a few dance steps also removed her blouse. Her breasts, free bra, black nipples on her freckled skin, pointing at me.

She is coming.

(Continued)

As you recall, we put an ad in the newspaper, looking for any person, fond of literature, we would like to see making love, and then describes not so much what he had seen what he thought as he watched, with one condition, its presence should be transparent. As if it were not there.

Was over, but I was still in it.

When we recover Mr. Corominas still there, and leaning against the back of his chair, his jacket and bow tie. You just have to light a cigarette.

We wondered whether to leave, let alone in the privacy of the moments after Love, but no, it seems determined to leave. I left her, still wet with a sound that I am ashamed a little. She smiles, cheeky. He smiles too, is difficult to maintain the transparency agreement.

His smile becomes the Cheshire Cat, and I can only say good afternoon, like Alice. He asks if I want something to drink, bring me a glass of water, and we start talking, everything and nothing, the work of a corrector, the difficulty that has the correct what the author says without trying to improve it, of children's stories that he writes ...

The situation is a bit surreal, or say, symbolist, more along the lines of "Dejeuner sur l'Herbe" in an explicit line of Picasso's Minotaur, the Minotaur lubricity watching the scene from behind the curtain. In bed she and I, talking, naked, Mr. Corominas sitting in his chair fully clothed.

She gets up, goes to the bathroom a moment, while leaving a trail almost touch her female scent satisfied, the scent of love. Back, sits on the bed, resting on the head, facing me, legs crossed, open, bright, even your sex pleasure and mine, as if we were alone, as we had been so many times.

I for one am already relaxed, and, while naked, I can speak of children's stories, or comparative literature. He also, in turn, is now pending in the conversation. Still, not as distracted as that, because when a wet spot starts to form in the sheet below it, is solicitous to get a towel for her to sit on top.

Gradually, the eroticism of the situation makes its way in me, although he did not realize until I see the eyes of Mr. Corominas and is not fixed on my face alone, but stops for a moment in my eyes, to descend to a point, about eight inches below my navel. I had not realized she was doing my desire back, fiddling with his foot between my legs, my nakedness hirguiendo, making it clear to the viewer watching us. She does not realize, and simply rubs me the crease of the knee with her bare feet, aware of the immediate effects that has moved more transparent invitation to any word.

A half smile, and, muttering a few words of apology to Mr. Corominas, without shame, without resort any longer, she leans towards me and wrapped his mouth.

You do not need now many preliminaries, his body is so willing to take me away, seagrass beds and love like mine to be welcomed, trapped inside a heartwarming touch and out still. There she is warm, protective, kind, loving.

We are not concerned about the alien presence, look no longer, no longer feel your eyes go our skin, there is a piece of furniture in the room, we will not teach anything that has not already seen, this second time is, say more personal, more intimate, more erotic and also at all pornographic. There's no posturing, no more hand touching the other's body, open or erect, as and no more trips to the lips throughout the geography, directions, opening ourselves to the gaze of the other.

It is not physical desire that guides our movements, that enslaves us, we are the owners of the rhythm and action, we who play with the rhythm and melody, we can sit still, just linked, hug , we can move without fear that the desire to overcome us, taking us on their wings to a desired end by not less than feared.

We lose this time completely in pleasure, still flying, minimal movements exacerbated by sensitivity to the surface, the two of us, a huge corolla light sensitivity, full trip hallucinated, eternal experience.

There is no longer the world, lost in our feelings, tastes, smells ....

When we finished and gone.

We never knew anything about it.

We never received its history.

Beijing, May 99

As we said yesterday ...

After the introductions, we agreed on the procedure: before we arrive at a hotel room. At the reception would be a key to its attention, and we would begin without waiting. The come in a while, when they were in the heat of the action. Enter your key, without interrupting us, grace was that, its transparency, its insubstantiality, sit in a chair, and simply be there. We were not going to offer a greeting, a drink, a "sit back, Mr. Corominas, are you at home, will you drink? no, do not bother us at all, please, your presence is always welcome, excuse me but then we are with you as soon as we finish this matter pending, "none of this should not happen.

Simply, there would not be there. After the function, or boring, it's like without a good afternoon, he would go when he pleased, without exchanging a word.

It must be said that the issue for us is greatly simplified, as for not being professional exhibitionists, we had not known very well what our attitude should be, as natural as life itself, showing the best and most juicy details, setting up competitions ... ..

Well, the day has come when H D and a quarter. We're both in the room, watching us. This is usually not our routine. In general went out to dinner, we talked, we approach each other through the voice, the looks, the touch of a hand first, then a kiss, then a touch on the car seat, a pat on the neck , we break the coldness of the day, the stress of work, occupations parking, making the last call on the phone while your skin get used to contact the other. Nor was it a ritual, sometimes we felt the urgency of desire, and had stopped the car on the highway to get lost in a thicket, or a work shed in the rain, sometimes just half we had escaped going to the movies because we felt other priorities. But not that day. We had finished our work each side, and we had gathered in that hotel, we did not want to contaminate anything from us with this venture.

We're both there, and saying: What now, what? It is a tense situation between us, neither repent, but do not really know how to start. The reach, sit on the couch or lay on the bed and start groping is not our style. A little worried, and with an eye on the clock (although we have time), under a desk and ask for a double whiskey. It is a change in routine, not ever drink between meals, but otherwise I will not be able to begin spraying the ice angel who hovers around the room. She waits for me while sit-in the chair, fiddling with the TV remote. Not exactly the ideal situation. She zapeando, I smelled alcohol. I think the later is not going to go a long way, and asked if we left it. She says that she does not, if I want .... is not helpful, do not know if it tells me a favor, if you really do not fancy and does not want to upset me, if you win and do not dare to acknowledge it. Total, which, driven by the whiskey, I say go ahead and stroke her face, kissed her neck, long dresses, and little by little, the angel melts.

We lie, she has already lost in the operation blouse and skirt, the shirt I, we have opened the bed and we are restarting the rite, my mouth lost in her mouth, my hands caressing her back, her hands unbuckling my belt.

I've reached the mouth with its center, through the panties, my hands under her bra lost, when you open the door. I realize I only because it hesitates a moment, I feel the sudden tension in your body, I can not see anything. She turns around, puts his face into the pillow, I have no choice but to continue kissing caressing her back, from the neck down, the tips of the fingers recognizing a road trip so many times, back through the center , counting their vertebrae (never left the same number), sides to her breasts, hidden from view by the bedding, but accessible if it is incorporated minimally. It does, I have your chest and between my fingers, I have not yet seen anything or anyone.

I can not help glancing look, and there is the Mr. Corominas, very composed, very dapper, very sitting in the chair, very inclined towards us, not just the jacket is removed. A 30 cm. my back we detailed consideration. The truth is that there is nothing to see yet. We're both still half dressed, the two give back ... but this situation will not last long, the truth is that their eyes electrified me, and I'm not very comfortable in this position, spare me all the clothes, I stretched my body. I have no choice but to sit up, sit on the bed opposite to yours, take off the rest of clothing that bothers me. Well, I'm naked, sitting on the bed behind him and her profile as a bullfighter. I have no choice but to stand up quickly, feeling his eyes that I walk over.

The turn to her and remove her bra. She has narrowed her eyes, something extraordinary, when we had always made love with their eyes open, eyes bebiéndonos. We return once more to gestures repeated many times and always new, not abstract away completely, neither she nor I feel on our skin and our sex rubbing your eyes touch. More than once a glimmer in the eyes of my companion run diagonally to where is he, more than once a movement that she can do, to get more comfortable position, or because it annoys a fold of the sheet seems to me which is either to hide, or so he can enjoy the entire show, I do not know very well.

I do not care much and have been moments of doubt, at this time and my body is who holds the reins, and only passes like a shadow in my mind that at the bottom displaying indecent excites me, sharing the odor and sounds: the sound of the mattress, the blows of our skin in a rush, the whispers wet when I leave her, her gasps at some point, so many sounds that sometimes I have stolen from strangers in the solitude of my hotel nights, when with an ear to the wall, listening to the couples in the next room.

I like to think Mr. Corominas eyes fixed on my body and hers. Imagine what he is seeing

She starts moaning in a crescendo continued, again and again, so I wonder whether natural or not.

Because it is usually not as expansive. We see the obliquely, without losing his composure, his eyes on us, not as a whole, not in his letter said the "Rest, observe the reaction of each one as you recompose the image, makeup, light on your body, the reflection of your eyes ... "No, at this time their eyes are crossing our legs, leaving hardly a trace in them, reaching, penetrating, a look between them, did not lose a moment of action collecting from our bodies shine in his eyes. And about to shine, we are magnificent, young lovers, bathed in sweat, enjoy us being there together, dear.

We forget and all, or at least I forget when she decides it's time to end. With a stroke expert at the right time, I get my pleasure, always shorter, more epidermal sharper, intertwine with yours, go to the same rhythm, speeding at certain times, slowing in others, in a spiral of which we will just exhausted.

Since there is no one more than us, our bodies, we are not aware of anything other than the touch of our skin to blend in the other, combined drives our bodies, unable to separate our feelings. I know, I feel the same feelings when I caress her, there in the gap that exists between her legs, she knows through me, what is being inside a woman, noticing my body when I am in it. Know it is me, what we have to do to finish, what movement do you caress. And we do. Ended in a sigh of joy, almost a sob, and remain an infinite time in each other, recovering consciousness, the senses, the feelings.

Continue

“ Joven pareja ofrece a voyeur que sea escritor o periodista la posibilidad de hacerles un reportaje. Se ruega enviar una página manuscrita indicando lo que os imagináis que puede pasar, cómo, dónde, cuándo, y si nos motiva, entre todos haremos que suceda”

Escribid por favor a El País, ref.***”

Así empezaba la aventura.

Ella y yo nos queríamos, y, tras meses y años dedicando horas a prácticas tan exhaustivas como extenuantes, habíamos llegado a una sincronía en los actos amorosos, ballet razonablemente perfecto de cuerpos y humores. Yo sabía cuando disminuir el ritmo, inducido por la mas mínima variación en sus gestos, ella conocía los puntos secretos de mi cuerpo, allí donde el mas ligero roce con la yema de las dedos disparaba inmediatamente el placer. Yo sabia llevarla en lomos de caballos desbocados, hacia la cima, en una interminable carrera, de repecho en repecho, sin llegar jamás a alcanzar el Finis Terrae de su cuerpo, ella me conducía sabiamente, jockey sutil, alternando freno y espuela, para que pudiese aguantar la distancia.

Conmigo ella era campeona de las metas volantes, con ella yo era un corredor de fondo.

Nos entendíamos bien, en la cama y fuera de ella.

Y nos queríamos, y nos gustaba a ambos la literatura.

Lo habíamos discutido antes, a mi me divertía el disponer de un testigo, alguien que pudiese glosar lo que había visto, en un cuento, introducirnos en su novela en la que nos reconoceríamos los dos, secreto para nosotros y él.

Si a mi me gustaba, a ella no le importaba, siempre que el intruso supiese mantener la compostura y que no acercase las manos allí donde solo se suponía que debían estar sus ojos.

Además, siempre hacíamos el Amor con la luz encendida.

Como no íbamos a elegir a ningún conocido, nos decidimos por el anonimato de un anuncio en un periódico.
Recibimos… cincuenta o sesenta cartas, la verdad es que la edición dominical de El País se distribuye a todo España, pero… pero no creímos nunca que fuese tan sencillo encontrar tantos escritores voyeurs, o voyeurs con tendencias literarias.

We agreed that we would make a selection at first simply by the appearance of the letter (oil stains, handwriting illiterate profanity were exclusive).

A quick selection eliminates half. Of course I can not imagine not sharing a beer with this, I write on a postcard, or with this one, which sends me an envelope with the stamp on the bottom right corner.

Since I only have about thirty letters, presentations, and the few more than others, is looking at the text.

And start reading:

Children's Letters: Young couple, I really enjoyed your nice letter. I too am young, no vices, good vibes ... I imagine a boy scout walker with a guitar over his shoulder

and rare cards, that you seem to us we knew, but I am a public man should go to the meeting with a mask and should be dawn in a secluded place, on a bend of the road .... Jo, who fear.

And funny letters: Hey, partner, responding to your ad, I will say that I would like to see how you make love or anything else, since I am an avid watcher. Like any good voyeur, I just love watching me and I'm not interested in participating. As for me I will say that I am a doctor and I own meeting place in the city and the coast, from where you may see with a telescope, since my apartment overlooking the beach. So, as you ask me to describe what I want, I propose that at five in the morning, before sunrise, put yourself where I tell you (not you worry about that at this time and in winter there is nobody, I have only tested it) and make love there. It's a little cold, but certainly after the first impression you have not already. I while I look through the telescope. So go, just thinking about the beach at dawn, with the sand that gets everywhere, I cringe enterito.

And strange letters: the letter is written by a woman in beautiful calligraphy convent school, the Sacred Hearts, the Teresian ...: Hello Family, I am young and looking pa visiosos as you pass it you tit. That my boobs make me a hundred. But beware, only pa ti wife, who was born male to touch me by the balls min. Is it blackmail? Will someone be forced to write that, and let us know the only way is to copy the colloquial language?

And finally, the tangle, a: couple, not easy for me to say who I am. Say, Joan Corominas, very old age (over fifty), university, routinely married comfortable and professionally satisfied, financially tranquil. Movie buff and amateur photographer. That is "voyeur", sensitive, imaginative, discreet ... I would like to see the couple who hides behind the anonymous and seems quiet, imaginative, sensitive, slightly exhibitionist? I would like to be present and even non-existent time, transparent, watching the couple, observe, analyze your relationship secret, your caresses, one by one and together. Participate with a look caressing and stimulating ... Rest, observe the reaction of each one as you recompose the image, the makeup, the light on your body, the reflection of your eyes ... stop especially in the profile of women dressed again. Perhaps, too, want it.

The letter was from an educated person. The only condition is that she set before I knew him personally.

The bar appeared a middle-aged person, wisely worn plaid jacket, bow tie, his shirt spotless, a dapper gentleman and reasonably neat. I said her name was Joan Corominas, who wrote stories for children by vocation, and was editorial correction by profession. I also confessed that he liked to write stories just for him but were both incompatible with his profession as his vocation.

After the introductions, we agreed on the procedure: before we arrive at a hotel room. At the reception would be a key to its attention, and we would begin without waiting. The come in a while, when they were in the heat of the action. Enter your key, without interrupting us, grace was that, its transparency, its insubstantiality, sit in a chair, and simply be there. We were not going to offer a greeting, a drink, a "sit back, Mr. Corominas, are you at home, will you drink? no, do not bother us at all, please, your presence is always welcome, excuse me but then we are with you as soon as we finish this matter pending, "none of this should not happen.

continue

Well yesterday I had been on the table, as usual with the medical team prepared.

I put a curtain that prevented me from seeing what they were digging down there, I was told I would feel some stinging, but it's all going to feel. Y, efectivamente, senti unos pinchazos en los huevos (no exactamente, por allá abajo), y las manos de alguien (el cirujano, la enfermera, la monja, el reparador del aire acondicionado?) que me los sobaban. Me explicaron por si tenia dudas por tanto tocamiento que asi la anestesia tenia efecto más rapido.

Es posible, pero en general si os malaxean los huevos con cariño y estais normalmente constituidos, los resultados suelen ser aparentes. Por suerte, cuando me empezaba yo a preocupar, porque sentía cierta tensión en el ingenioso mecanismo, la anestesia hizo su efecto y ya me quedé con los huevos de madera, iguales a los que usaban las abuelas para zurcir calcetines.

Si que senti como el cirujano (o la monja) buscaba ese cordoncillo que sale del testiculo y lo pellizcaba antes de cortar la piel por donde lo tenía pillado, se expandio un olor a carne quemada, supongo que del bisturi, un click de las tijeras o las pinzas cuando cortan, y un tirón al coser un punto. Eso repetido por el otro lado, ni cinco minutos. Para que veais la tonteria que es, incluyo esta infografia:

I asked if I had dizzy, and as it was not, I was asked to rise from the couch and walk around. Lo hice, decidieron que no era necesario que siguiese tumbado, que si me encontraba bien esperase como media hora, me vistiese y me podia ir. Y eso hice.

Y que tres dias sin lavarme y sin sexo, sin cansarme y yastá. Y que al cabo de 30 dias, o de 30 (creo recordar) eyaculaciones, que pasase por la consulta, para ver si habia funcionado.

Y eso hice, al dia siguiente tenía una fiesta familiar y asistí sin problemas (por cierto, mi mamá me dijo que esas cosas no se explican, que qué cara iba yo a poner si mi mujer quedaba embarazada despues, ¡ siempre hay que escuchar a las madres! ), con los huevos un poco hinchados, eso si. Y me quede un par de horas de pie y decidi que ya estaba bien. Pero eso fue todo.

Al cabo de 20 dias (ole ahi, pero es que eramos jovenes!) estaba nuevamente pidiendo hora.

Me hicieron pasar, la enfermera me dió un potecito, me envió a un cuarto contiguo a la consulta, y me pidió (lo recuerdo perfectamente) que “me aliviase” en el potecito, que si queria alguna revista, que ella me la daba. Que avisase cuando estuviese. Claro, enfria un poco los animos saber que el medico y la enfermera estan del otro lado de la puerta esperando “el alivio”, pero enfin, en un momentito estuvo la muestra en el bote. Se la di a la enfermera, que la tomo muy seria, casi con uncion, se la entrego al medico que miro por un microscopio y me dijo en un par de minutos que ya estaba, que no habia ningun espermatozoide despistado nadando en la corriente.

Y modificaciones en algo? la verdad es que fisicamente no (tal vez un poco menos de eyaculado, pero tampoco anda uno con balanza de precision), sicologicamente tal vez un poco, porque despues me enamoré, estando casados ambos. Y no nos separamos de nuestras parejas porque ella queria tener hijos, y conmigo no iba a ser posible.

Asi que la vasectomia fue un remedio contra el divorcio

Al menos en nuestro caso

Ayer hablabamos de sentimientos, del enamoramiento, del amor, y hoy hablaremos de vasectomias, saltando de un tema a otro, en forma tan alocada como es la vida.

Hoy os iba a explicar, en una información de primera mano (o, como decia en el prepost, más bien de primer huevo), en qué consiste la vasectomia para el paciente. Por el video habreis visto en que consiste desde el punto de vista médico, yo os explicaré lo que representa desde el punto de vista personal.

Decidi hacerme una vasectomia, cansado de que mi pareja se quejase de tomar pastillas, de tener reglas que duraban una semana (ella, no yo) y que el gine achacaba al DIU… Bueno, “decidi hacerme una vasectomia” no es exactamente lo que sucedio, mas bien decidimos los dos que yo me haría una vasectomia. Ya no teniamos ningun plan de tener hijos, asi que fuimos al medico, quien me dijo que era inodoro, indoloro e insipido, que no me iba a enterar.

Que el procedimiento pasaba por hacerme unos analisis preoperatorios por si acaso, y si todo estaba bien, una intervencion ambulatoria, suave sedacion, y cuando se me pasase la sedacion, a casita. Total, unas seis horas. Y que despues, durante 3 dias, no follar que me tirarian los puntos. Y que pasadas tres semanas o 30 polvos, lo que antes sucediese, que pasase por la consulta para un control de que mi semen no iba a dejar preñada a nadie.

No me dijo, y eso es importante para los que os la vais a hacer, que dejase semen en el congelador, por siaca. Bueno, exactamente no se trata de coger un pote de yogur (vacio es mejor), hacerse una paja y ponerlo junto a las espinacas congelás en el NoFrost, pero si dejar una muestra en un banco de semen. En cualquier caso, ni lo dijo ni se me ocurrio. Despues me podria haber arrepentido, si se me ocurre cambiar de pareja y la nueva pareja quiere tener un hijo. Como no cambié pues nada, pero tenedlo en cuenta. Y si han pasado mas de unos años de la vasectomia, en general no es reversible.

Total, que quede con el cirujano que al dia siguiente estaría en la clinica por la tarde. Y antes de salir de la consulta me dice… ah, y no olvides depilarte, si no quieres que lo haga la monja! aun la cosa teniendo su morbo, me parecio incorrecto tener a la monja recorriendo la zona con la gillette, que esas cosas (la gillete no, lo otro) las carga el diablo.

Asi que la vispera, me deje todo el pubis como el culo de una mona. Pelado y rojo. Nos reimos mucho mientras lo haciamos. Y mas despues, pero esa es otra historia.

Llego a la clinica, voy al vestuario para ponerme la bata, y me acompañan al quirofano. Ya estaban alli el medico, dos o tres enfermeras, el instrumentista, dos becarios, el reparador del aire acondicionado y hasta la secretaria de direccion. Aun cuando ahora sea naturista y me daria igual, en aquella epoca era joven y pudoroso, y me dio un poco de corte, estar alli, en bata abierta por detrás como unica ropa.

Pero no tanto como cuando me dice el cirujano: a ver si hay que depilarte, subete un momento la bata. Y todo el mundo que está alli, dedicado a sus labores, se gira hacia mi, me levanto la bata con cuidado, y un poco de perfil, como un torero, para que no se me vea mucho, pero el medico dice, pasa aqui a la luz, que lo vea bien, me pone bajo el foco, me sube la bata hasta el cuello, se echa a reir, con una risa que se contagia a todo el quirofano. Alli todo el mundo (menos yo) se estaba descojonando. Entre hipidos me dijo que le perdonara, habia olvidado comentarme que solo tenia que depilarme los huevos, no el pubis hasta el esternón, y que claro, al verme depilado y rojo como una langosta, les habia entrado la risa floja.

Total, que me hacen tumbar en una camilla, me abren las piernas (no mucho, tampoco como si estuviese de parto), pero en cualquier caso, en una posicion vulnerable, y me suben la bata.

Y… (seguiremos mañana)

Todo lo que habiais querido saber, en una experiencia de primera mano (bueno, en este caso se trata de otra parte del cuerpo, pero me entendeis)