Being alone wasn't new for Ayrton. He always felt that bitter sting, even as a little boy. He always had trouble making friends and most of all, talking to girls. His social skills were painfully low, and it was not that he wasn't trying. He desperately wished with all his heart to be able to make a friend or to even talk to someone like a normal individual. But all he feels at those opportunities is crippling anxiety and fear.

The day is scorching hot, the fans on the ceiling of the auto parts shop where he is working provided little to no relief at all. Ayrton leans his head down, pressing hard the heels of his hands on his eyes. The store is silent, only the noises coming from the street in the form of distant voices and cars.

Sadness filling every particle of his body and mind, leaving no room for relief. Ayrton always feels a little more sad (if that's even possible) when he knows the weekend is coming. All he can think is being at home, in his room, concelead from everyone. He knows deep inside it is wrong, the very same thought of it. The image already pulsing through his sore thinking is wrong. It is bad to hurt himself, but it is also needed, so desperately.

The only way to make the sadness a little lighter is to let it flow like the blood flowing off his wrist when he presses right there the edge of the tiny piece of broken mirror he keeps hidden in the drawer of his bedside table. It is a secret, something he despises and at the same time craves when he feels hopeless and alone.

"What are you doing, Senna? The boss don't pay you to be taking a fucking nap on the counter." Nigel puts his hands on his hips, looking at Ayrton. He could be such an asshole as a workmate sometimes. "Sorry. There's nobody around here anyways." Ayrton says, making himself stand right.

"What, you feeling tired? Didn't sleep last night? Was it..." Nigel puts his arm around Ayrton's neck, looking at him with a knowing grin, lifting his moustache. "Was it someone who kept you awake?" Ayrton looks at him, his face showing no emotion at all. "What...? No. I just..." He changes his body weight from one leg to the other, shifting uncomfortable, wishing Nigel would take his arm off his shoulders.

"You aren't getting any pussy? No pussy for little Ayrton?" Nigel scoffs, smiling as he presses a finger in Ayrton's chest. "Shut up, Nigel." Ayrton says, already feeling it is enough, removing Nigel's arm. "Ohh, sorry. Did I hit a sensitive spot there? Come on man, what are you, 28? You're too fucking young to not be using that cock. You should come tonight. I'm having a party at my house. Lots of beautiful, willing girlies. Nelson and Gerhard are coming. Alain too, if his wife loosen the leash around his neck a little." Nigel looks at him, smiling and leaning against the counter, moving a box full of pistons as he does it.

Ayrton looks at him, his mind racing super fast as he contemplates this invitation. He could already feel the anxiety building up in his chest, visualizing the secuence of being between a bunch of people drinking, talking and laughing, loud music invading his ears, the terror of not fitting in filling his mind, not even knowing what to do to fit in. It was breathtaking.

On the other hand, he is in no place of rejecting an invitation, not even from a co-worker. He wants to make friends, he wants to be part of it, he needs to be loved, to feel someone cares about him. Although it might hurt, and it will in the end. It always do.

"Ok, I'll go."

*

"Boa tarde, filho. How was work?" Ayrton's mother shouts from the kitchen when she hears the front door closes. "Tudo bem mãe. It was good." Ayrton feels a little guilty everytime he lies to her mother. 'Cause it is never good, nothing feels good anymore.

She aproaches her son, kissing him in the cheek. "That's nice. Do you want something to eat or you will wait till dinner? Your sister and Michael are coming tonight." She says, returning to the kitchen.

She looks so happy about it, Ayrton thinks. He knows she is so proud of her newly married daughter. Since she got pregnant, she became the center of all the attention in the family. Everyone is so delighted, thrilled for all her achievements.

Is not that Ayrton resents his older sister for having a nice life and a nice husband. He just feels so fucking sad. He wishes everyday to have what she has, to feel what she feels.

He wakes up everyday thinking how things would be if he were a little bit like her: he would be getting all the attention from his family, he would be the one going out everyday buying new baby's clothes and toys, and getting phone calls from his friends asking him if he wants to hang out before the baby is born because everyone knows how difficult it is to have a little time for yourself with a newborn baby. He would be going to doctor's appointments with his beautiful wife, feeling so fortunate and anxious to meet his baby already, hanging those weird little ultrasound scans pictures all over the fridge, like the ones they already have now from his sister's baby.

"No mãe, it's ok. I'll wait. I'll be in my room." He says, as he goes up the stairs, almost running through the hallway, reaching the handle of his bedroom door in a rush.

He feels his heart pulsing in his neck, his hands starting to sweat as well as his forehead. He closes the door behind him and leans his back on it, sliding slowly until he is sitting on the floor, looking at a fixed point, mouth open and gasping. He needs to calm down. He cannot have another anxiety attack. Not again. They're becoming a regular thing and that is not good.

"Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Good. 1, 2, 3. 1, 2, 3. Good. I'm good. I'm ok. It's going to be ok." Ayrton repeats in his mind, eyes closed, trying to throw away the images of having to endure a dinner with his sister, his husband, his parents and after that, like the fucking cherry on the top of a fucked up cake, Nigel's party.

What if he can't do it? What if he collapses from an anxiety attack (or, what's worst, from a panic attack) in the middle of Nigel's party, in front of his co-workers and surrounded by people he doesn't even know? His hands shakes, his chest constricts allowing no air to flow through his lungs. He needs to do it now, at least a tiny little cut on his wrist. No one will notice, he will cover it with a bandaid or something, and if someone asks he will blame his "sister's cat".

Ayrton stands up, walking with difficulty, his knees wobbling slightly and his body shaking from the rush of anxiety and sadness. He reaches his bedside table and opens the little drawer, looking into the wooden box where he keeps that tiny piece of broken mirror. His eyes opens wide desperately as he finds out the piece of mirror is not in the box. Where is it? How...? Where?

He throws the box back into the drawer and breathes in sharply, sitting on the bed and rubbing his hands on his thighs in an inefficient attempt to soothe himself. Ayrton feels his accelerated heart beating loudly in his ears, reverberating inside his head. He rocks back and forth, eyes closed, murmuring to himself where the fuck could it be. And a little light flicks suddenly on the back of his mind, through all the chaos and the pain: it must be in the bathroom; that's where he slit his wrist the last time.

He stands up, almost running to his bathroom and starts looking for the piece of mirror in the cabinet above the sink, shaky hands grabbing and setting aside his anxiety pills, perfumes, shaving cream, deodorants, after-shave lotions.

Thank God, he thinks, he is not so reckless as to leave it hanging above the sink or somewhere else in plain sight, no matter the state of mind he is when he cuts himself, he would never fall for a mistake like that. Even though Ayrton's mother and father never come into his bathroom in his room. They know Ayrton is a private person and likes to keep people away from his room and his stuff.

He finds it hidden behind his sleeping pills, at the back of the cabinet. Ayrton doesn't remember how or when he hid the little piece of chunked mirror back there. He must have been far gone between the sadness and the rush of his cuts, sending shoots of adrenaline through his brain and body, inebriating him in such a way he doesn't remember what he did or what happened moments after.

He can't wait any longer and slids the sharp point on his wrist, unconscioulsly calculating the depth and lenght of the cut. He cannot misjudge, he has been doing it since the seventh grade.

His hand shakes a bit, hesitant to stop. But he knows he has to stop, otherwise a bandaid won't help to cover the wound. He looks at the drops of blood smearing the white surface of the sink. Acetylcholine, dopamine, adrenaline flowing through his body soothing momentarily the sadness of his soul, intoxicating his brain like a drug.

Ayrton looks at his reflection on the mirror and whispers at himself: "You deserve it. You deserve it. You know you deserve this. Look what you made me do." Various faces of people appear floating in his mind, and he thinks about the connection they have between them and the disconnection they have with himself.

He slowly walks to collect some toilet paper, pressing it hard on the wound, the blood soaking through the thin layers of paper. Ayrton silently waits, looking down at the water on the toilet. He feels so lonely. So sad. Insignificant.

"Ayrton, meu amor, please come down. Your sister is here." Ayrton hears his mother shouts from the living room below. He sighs. The toilet paper going down through the toilet drain, the gory evidence washed away.

He reaches for the bandaids, carefully covering the wound. He sighs again, getting his shit together. It's show time.

*

Ayrton's mother had arranged the table using the best tablecloth and dinnerware they have. Ayrton looks at his plate, his hands resting on his lap, hearing his father talking cheerfully with Michael. "Another promotion this month, huh? That's fantastic, Michael. You must be very proud of your husband, Viviane." Ayrton's father says, staring at his daughter with a brighness in his eyes that Ayrton don't recall ever received from his father.

"I am, pai." Viviane answers, smiling at her husband, holding his hand on the table. She places her free hand on her belly, carressing it. She looks amazingly beautiful, Ayrton thinks, almost radiant, carrying so well her fifth month of pregnancy. They look so happy it hurts. Hurt. Pain. Ayrton feels the wound on his wrist pulsating faintly.

"When do you have your next ultrasound appointment, filha? I would like to take you." Ayrton's mother voice sounds so excited. "Next week, mãe. I'll come pick you up and we'll go together. Michael can't come, he will be busy at work. Right, love?" Viviane asks, taking a bite of food from the fork.

"I already arranged that day at work with my boss, darling. I will be there with you. I don't want to miss a thing. We'll pick you up, Neyde." Michael says with a smile. "Oh, that's wonderful." Ayrton's mother claps her hands together, watching how Michael hugs Viviane with one arm across the back of her chair.

Ayrton doesn't know how much of this is he going to stand. There is no happy place on his mind he can go to in order to avoid what's going on around him. He only twists uncomfortably in the chair, still staring at the food on the plate in front of him. His father resumes the dialogue about Michael's work at the lawyer's office and how Viviane is arranging a baby shower with her best friends for the upcoming months.

As they debate whether she should have the baby shower on her seventh or eight month of pregnancy, Ayrton feels his hearing getting lower and lower, replaced by a high pitch sound. His hands begins to twitch, wrinkling the trousers into his fists. He instantaneously picks the fork and starts eating, slowly but constantly, in order to keep his desperation at bay.

His gaze is frozen, looking at a bowl of salad in front of him. He is not hearing the conversation, he is not even there at all. The food goes down his throat but he can't focus on the flavours. His eyes are foggy, wet, he feels them burning and tries to keep the tears from falling. He takes a sip of water and realizes he has finished his drink. He keeps on chugging food, thoughtless.

"Ayrton? Ayrton. Michael has made you a question, filho." Ayrton's father says, and this, he miraculously hears. "Oh...sorry. What?" Ayrton manages to speak, placing the fork on his plate. He feels his face burning with shame as he realizes everyone is looking at him like he has suddenly grown another head. For how long was he dissociated?

"Do you want some beer?" Michael asks, and Ayrton is surprised to see Michael is not watching him accusingly. He is just smiling at him, his arm still around his sister's shoulders. Ayrton knows probably Michael thinks he's a freak. A sad, lame, loser freak.

Ayrton doesn't know what to say or how to speak. "Um no, thanks. I'll stick with the water. Thank you." He repeats, a flush spreading out across his cheeks and down his neck. He feels like burning. There is a short uncomfortable silence between them all, until Ayrton's mother starts talking about the colours Viviane will choose for the baby shower's decorations, and Michael and his father begin a conversation about some football match.

And that's it. That's all there is for Ayrton. He remains forgotten for the rest of the dinner, thankfully and painfully, until Michael and his father sits down on the couch of the living room, each one with a coffee, in front of the TV to re-watch the last match, and Viviane and his mother dissappear into the kitching, talking keenly.

Ayrton finds out he is sitting alone at the table, still. No one giving a fuck about him. He stands up feeling dizzy and runs up the stairs to his room. He decides to take a shower before going out, maybe it will help him calm down a bit. When he finishes, he dresses up again, not really paying attention at what he is wearing, and goes down the stairs and into the kitchen where his mother and sister are still talking and laughing, making more coffee.

"I'm going out, mãe. See you tomorrow." Ayrton says, speaking fast. As he is turning around to leave, his mother stops him. "Really? where are you going, filho?" She asks, bewildered but expectant, as if she is waiting for Ayrton to say he has got a girlfriend and is going out with her tonight, or that he has suddenly made two or three friends and they will start hanging out, having a nice time like everyone else does.

Ayrton knows his mother wants a nice life for him and that she cares about his love life. He also knows she is worried about Ayrton having no friends at all and never going out or being invited anywhere.

"Nigel invited me to a party at his house. You remember, Nigel? From work." Ayrton looks down at his feet, biting his lower lip. He feels kinda ashamed to say it was a work buddy, the only person who can invite him somewhere. His sister looks at him with a shine of compassion in her eyes.

"Nigel from work, yes. Of course. The one with the moustache." Ayrton's mother replies, nodding slowly, smiling at him as she holds a towel in her hands. "Ok, filho. Have a nice time. And take care of yourself." She smiles with love, and Ayrton feels something melting in his heart. "I will, mãe."

*

The night is nice and warm, the sky clear. Ayrton arrives at Nigel's house, sweat dripping from his forehead, faint shivers assaulting his body. He can hear loud music and voices coming from inside the house, and a hopeless sight escapes from his mouth.

Suddenly he feels worried about looking, at least, nice and neat, so he checks his shoes - a pair of black and red Adidas sneakers. His black jeans seems ok. But then he realizes he is still wearing the dark blue polo shirt from work, with the Auto Parts Shop logo printed on the left side of his chest. Ayrton closes his eyes, clenching his fists. What else can go wrong? And he knows something else will go wrong that night, because nothing good ever comes from hanging out with normal people.

Ayrton braces himself as he rings the doorbell, unsure someone will listen with the loud music. His heart pounds in his chest so loud it almost feels like a frantic drum. As Ayrton starts thinking how he will keep calm once he's inside the house, trying to build up some strategy in his mind, the door bursts open and there's Nigel.

"Hey, my man! So glad you came, Senna. Come inside, there's a lot of girls you might like." Nigel says, sligtly shouting and holding a bottle of booze swinging from one hand. Ayrton nods and comes inside with a faltering smile on his pale face, the countless freckles on the bridge of his nose more evident than ever.

The living room is full of people, some are dancing, others drinking and laughing. Everyone is having a nice time. Ayrton feels so out of place, staring at the people in the room with a worried expression, walking behind Nigel with small, hesitant steps like a little child.

"Hey, look who's here." Nigel says, approaching Gerhard and Nelson, their other co-workers. "Ayrton! What's up? So good you came." Gerhard shakes Ayrton's hand, smiling. He seems warm and welcoming, maybe because of the alcohol. Nelson, on the other hand, looks as bitter as always. "Good but weird." Nelson spits, looking at Ayrton like he is contagiously sick or something.

Ayrton knows Nelson hates him for an unknown reason. He is not sure Nelson actually likes someone. He seems to dislike everyone, but especially him. But he gets along pretty well with his working mates. Ayrton knows Nigel and Nelson are friends.

And just like that, with that short but poisonous comment from Nelson, Ayrton's small hopes are shattered like thin glass. He remains standing there, looking at the floor, as Gerhard and Nelson resumes their conversation. It is useless, Ayrton thinks. He shouldn't have come.

"Are you going to stand there like an idiot, Senna? Come on, let's get you a fucking drink, since you are not going to move." Nigel says, dragging Ayrton by his arm to a table full of glasses and alcohol bottles. "Let me guess. Beer." Nigel looks at Ayrton smiling and pours a cold beer in a cup, handing it to him.

"So, let's see. I invited Adriane just for you to meet her. Don't disappoint me on this." Nigel once again puts an arm around his shoulders, leaning towards him, making Ayrton walk through the people along with him. He looks down at Ayrton, and furrows his brow. "Are you wearing the shirt from work? Are you fucking kidding me?" Nigel scoffs a laugh. "I didn't realize until I was already here." Ayrton excuses himself, feeling ashamed and stupid.

"Never mind that now, look. There's Adriane." Nigel points to a beautiful tall blonde. She was absolutely stunning and very sexy, wearing a tiny tight and short pink dress, her eyes perfectly highlighted with sparkly make-up. Ayrton's eyes lingers on his perfectly round bottom, suddenly feeling out of place, looking away with a tiny shiver.

Nigel looks at Adriane, then looks at Ayrton and then back at Adriane. "Well, let's go then, Senna. Wake up, move your feet."

As they approach Adriane, Ayrton feels his blood pressure falling into the void, sweating, his lips slightly parted, breathing loudly. He realizes Nigel is hearing him, so he closes his mouth and looks at Adriane, now in front of him.

"Good night, ladies. How are you doing? Having fun?" Nigel says, staring at Adriane and both of her friends. "Nigel, your house is great." One of the girls says. "Perfect for parties. You lucky man." The other one adds with a mischievous smile. "Well, thank you very much ladies. Hey, wanna come with me? I will show you around. Oh, Adriane, this is Ayrton. He is the friend I talked you about." Nigel holds Ayrton grabbing him by both sides of his arms, as if he were a doll on display.

"Nice meeting you, Ayrton." Adriane says, shaking his hand. She feels Ayrton's warmth on her palm and looks up, their eyes meeting. Adriane's blue eyes lingers for a moment on Ayrton's, and then she wander her gaze across his face. His perfectly shaped nose, his plumped lips, his adorable freckles, the wavy shiny brown hair cuddling his neck. She finds Ayrton cute enough as to give him a chance. A one night chance, she thinks. And Ayrton, being lovesick and naive enough, doesn't even think about one-night stands. He is perfect to make him fall in any kind of trap.

Ayrton is blushing hard. Adriane lets out a giggle, as Nigel and her friends disappear into the crowd, talking and laughing. An unfomfortable silence grows between Adriane and Ayrton. Maybe she's used to talk to guys who take the lead and, at least, starts conversations, Ayrton thinks. He inhales, taking a sip of beer to gather some confidence. A sip that ends up being a gulp, drinking almost half of the cup at once.

"So...what...do you...what do you do for work?" Ayrton says, and immediatly regrets it. It is such a stupid question to ask a beautiful girl. "I'm a model." Adriane says, smiling at him. She notices him blushing even more, and takes a sip of her drink to stop her from laughing.

"Oh, that's nice. For...how long have you been a model?" Ayrton asks, not able to look Adriane to her eyes. He feels so stupid. Why is he even doing this? He is useless. This girl would never pay any attention to him at all, he is the loser of the losers. But he thinks he should at least try and be polite, for Nigel. He set this up for him, he can't be his usual piece of shit and avoid Adriane just because he is a fucking coward and thinks he doesn't deserve any of it.

"Just a couple of years. I like it, and it is going well for me, so..." Adriane looks at Ayrton and feels a twinge of compassion. He must be very shy, she thinks. She only smiles, looking into her drink, thinking how different he is from any guy she ever met. This is a whole new level of social inadequacy for her to meet.

"You work with Nigel, don't you?" Adriane asks, and Ayrton, despite his desperation and shame, manages to look at her into her eyes. "Yes. We work together. He...he's ok. He is a nice workmate." He smiles, thinking this is it. This is the exact moment when the conversation between them dies, because he doesn't know what else to say.

"I see. You're wearing your uniform, right?" Adriane says with a smile looking at Ayrton's polo shirt, the shop logo printed on it. Ayrton feels his face going numb, his fingers grasping hard on the beer cup. "Yes. Yes, I forgot to change when I got home today." He smiles nervously, squeezing the cup in his hands. He decides to keep drinking, maybe it would help him to build up the courage enough to continue this weird conversation. The beer runs cold down his throat.

There is some part of Ayrton that does not believe he is having an actual conversation with a girl, doesn't matter the subject. It is something he does not believe it is possible, something he constantly imagines numerous times a day and in his mind it is always so much better than in reality.

Adriane looks at Ayrton's lips, so plump and pink and they seem so soft and perfect for a kiss. She decides she should take the lead. She knows Ayrton is skittish enough as to never lean in for a kiss, and she is getting aroused enough by the sight of him as to try it.

Adriane looks at him, getting closer and closer. She decides it is better to no speak at all, and without further notice, she leans forward, getting into Ayrton's personal space. She tilts his head up, her lips slightly rubbing on his, feeling Ayrton's warm and rushed breathing. She is so taken aback by his smell, like cinnamon and something stronger.

Adriane does not know why his smell makes her feel so aroused, and all she can do is rest one hand on Ayrton's neck and kiss him. Their lips crushing slowly, a gentle motion at first. It has been so long since he kissed a girl that Ayrton remains quietly shocked for a couple of seconds. And then he remembers what to do.

Ayrton leads his free hand to her waist, pulling her closer. He slides the tip of his tongue slowly on Adriane's lower lip, her lips parted allowing his tongue to slip inside. They begin sucking greedily into each other mouths, their bodies pressing together heatedly. Ayrton's lips are so soft and lush, Adriane thinks. She doesn't know how to stop kissing him, she can't, she doesn't want to. She can feel Ayrton's hand pressing her lower back, slowly starting to move down.

Adriane is not a patient girl, and there is something about Ayrton that makes her want more and more. She throws away her drink and with her two now free hands, grabs Ayrton by both sides of his neck, making him walk backwards until his back is against the wall. Ayrton whimpers in Adriane's mouth when he feels his back suddenly hitting the wall and Adriane's thigh pressing against his already half hard cock.

"What is happening? How did we get to be like this? How do I handle this situation now?" Ayrton thinks. He is starting to feel so nervous, as well as aroused. Adriane is relentless. She lets their lips part just to suck wetly into Ayrton's neck, smiling against his warm skin.

"Mmm you taste so good." She says, slowly but firmly grinding her thigh against Ayrton's erection. Ayrton swallows hard, reaching for Adriane's face with one hand, biting smoothly her lower lip. She moans gingerly into his mouth, feeling his breath tickling beneath her nose. Ayrton's other hand reaches to Adriane's tush, squeezing the flesh there, now feeling his erection pulsating almost painfully through the layers of clothing.

Ayrton knows, fears, that if something more is going to happen with Adriane, he will not last long. And it will be a disaster, something he doesn't know how is he going to endure. They have been kissing for a couple of minutes and he is already so hard, throbbing, smearing precum in his underwear. Ayrton feels her breasts firmly pressed against his chest, slowly rubbing against him as they move slightly with all the kissing. He inhales sharply.

"You are already so hard for me, huh?" Adriane asks, her hand gripping Ayrton's erection, sliding strongly her hand up and down to feel all the lenght and volume through his jeans. She bites her lip, looking at him. "Wanna taste you so bad." Adriane licks Ayrton's neck, making him gasp. "Come with me." She takes Ayrton's hand, leading him back into the party, walking through the people.

*

How they end up in Adriane's apartment is lost from Ayrton's mind. He is so concentrated thinking how will he manage to stay hard and to prevent himself from finishing during the first two minutes of sex that eveything else from his environment is missing, he is moving in auto pilot.

Adriane is removing her dress, Ayrton looking at her bewildered, sitting on her bed. His hands runs through the duvet, feeling the texture of the fabric in his fingertips. He has never been in a girl's room apart from his sister's room, or even in a girl's apartment. He always had sex in motels and such, and a couple of times at his house.

Adriane looks at Ayrton, waiting for him. "You're not going to take your clothes off?" She says, climbing on the bed, legs on both sides, straddling Ayrton. "Want some help?" Adriane says with a smile, removing his shirt, hands clenching around Ayrton's shoulders and she leans down, kissing him softly, deeply, their tongues moving slowly against each other's.

Ayrton's hand runs through her back down to her arse, moving her forward, their bodies pressing together. And Adriane starts moving slowly back and forth, a gentle rocking motion on top of him as they kiss wetly. Suddenly, the phone rings. Adriane looks at it, taken aback for a second. "Don't mind it." She says, thrusting her tongue back in Ayrton's mouth.

Ayrton feels his cock already responding, and she moans slighly into his mouth as she takes her bra away, exposing her breasts. Ayrton's eyes opens comically wide.

Adriane moves further on, allowing Ayrton to kiss and lick at her breasts, one hand kneading her arse and the other pinching a breast. She moans, feeling her pussy getting wet, feeling Ayrton's hands run through her body so well, so strong and soft. She cannot wait any longer to see, to feel.

Adriane steps off kneeling on the floor, looking at Ayrton's eyes and open mouth, breathing agitated. She wriggles his trousers down along with his underware, and the sight makes her bite her lip. Ayrton's thick cock already leaking precome pulsates against his belly.

Ayrton knows he's blushing hard, he feels a drip of sweat running down his temple. He is not prepared in any way to the intense feeling of Adriane's mouth around him. She starts sucking on his cock hungrily, slowly but hollowing her cheeks enough as to leave Ayrton breathless. Ayrton's hands clenches around the duvet, inhaling sharply. A low moan escapes his mouth, and he looks down at her, watching her working on his cock with her mouth oh so well and wet.

Adriane takes it out of her mouth with a pop and slides her tongue through the lenght of Ayrton's cock, concentrating on licking the tip. Ayrton closes his eyes, his cock feels so hard it pulls like its going to detach from his body, he feels a heat shock wrapping his whole being, he bites his lip and tries not to look at her. He needs to hold the urgency to cum all over her face.

She moans, Ayrton feels the vibrations through his cock, and his throats constrics, a painful and hot feeling stucks in his stomach. Ayrton doesn't want to finish like this, so soon, and he struggles to control himself, trying to cool himself down. He reaches forward to take Adriane by her arms, lifting her off the floor. She lands on top of him on the bed, and a sudden wave of shyness invades Ayrton's mind and body.

They kiss, bodies rubbing against each other, and Ayrton feels his cock pressing against her wet pussy. His hands go through her back, down to her arse, and he is in desperation. This is it, this is the moment he is so afraid of and at the same time he wants so badly. Ayrton pushes his hips slowly up, and feels the pressure on his head, the tightness wrapping his cock. Adriane moans, Ayrton's cock filling her slowly, stretching her pussy almost painfully.

It feels so good it is almost painful for Ayrton, trying to get a hold on his impulses. Adriane's hands clench on Ayrton's shoulders, she pants in his ear, and Ayrton feels so overwhelmed he can't even move. Adriane starts bouncing slowly at first, forcing her open until she feels Ayrton's cock deep inside her, hot and thick. She keeps to a relentless rhythm, her pussy so wet, making the sounds intense and loud.

The phone rings again. Adriane ignores it, and she moves one hand to tangle in Ayrton's hair, feeling his cock pressing and thrusting right in her sensitive spot, her breath becoming more desperate. Ayrton's hands caresses, pressing the skin in her back, feeling her ondulating moves on him. Ayrton closes his eyes again, breathing loudly, trying to get his mind out of the phone ringing and the situation in order to keep himself from coming. He is so close, the feeling of her tight wet pussy on his cock becoming too much to handle anymore.

In an stupid attempt to dissociate his mind from his throbbing cock, Ayrton starts counting in his head the number of boxes from work he has to get in order for the next shipping. Radiators, batteries, ignition boxes and oil sensors travel through his mind.

But Adriane's moans and bitings on his neck brings him down to reality. He feels so close, that for an enlightened moment, Ayrton thinks he should take this for all it has, until the last moment. God knows when is he going to be able to fuck a girl like this again.

Holding her tight, Ayrton rolls them over, pushing Adriane down, her legs wide open. He starts thrusting into her resuming the rhythm, his cock now reaching deeper and sliding harder through her spot inside. Ayrton feels his arm cramping as they hold his own weight, Adriane clenching so hard on his biceps, moaning loudly.

"You feel so good like this. I wanna feel you cum for me. Can you cum for me?" Ayrton says, his tongue licking Adriane's neck, leaving a wet trail on her skin. And she feels it, an orgasm snatched from within, slowly growing with each thrust. And as her legs start to tremble, her pussy getting so wet making the motion obscenely loud, Ayrton starts to feel it too. It's coming, and there is nothing he can do to stop it.

Ayrton's thrusts becomes faster and harder, and he starts to shake and gasps. A powerful rush of arousal sweeps over him. Ayrton stops just in time to grab his cock, moving further over Adriane, pumping hard, his cum falling all over her chest and mouth. And she looks up at him, tasting it, swallowing every drop she can. Ayrton moans, shuddering, clenching his hand on his erection so hard.

And again, he doesn't remember what happens until he opens his eyes and they are both lying in bed. He doesn't know if one, two or five minutes has passed. Adriane's breathing seems more stable now, and she stands up still naked, entering the bathroom.

Ayrton stays there, melted into the mattress, looking at the ceiling. His heart is still lowering the beats, his limbs feels almost numb. A deep sense of emptiness overwhelms his mind like poison. Aren't they supposed to lie in bed together like hugging and caressing each other? Or is that something only couples do? Adriane probably doesn't feel comfortable enough with him as to share that kind of intimacy after sex.

Ayrton's face burns. A soft voice he hears, coming from somewhere down the hallway. Adriane's voice. Talking with who? They are alone in the apartment, aren't they? Ayrton stands up, emerging from the bed. He looks for his underware and slips it on with a worried and expectant expression on his face.

Slowly, he peeks his head to take a look at the hallway. The bathroom light is on. Ayrton walks barefoot, trying to not make a sound until he finds himself in front of the bathroom door, Adriane's voice clear now as for him to hear every word she speaks.

"I know, I know. I miss you too. I'm sorry, ok? I didn't know what else to do. I feel so sad, baby. You can't tell me that, you did the same thing. You slept with that girl. I know you did. We were together. I know. I still love you, baby." Adriane says, talking on the phone. Ayrton's blood drains from his face, the tip of his hands starts to tingle and his heart is beating fast again.

"I want you back. No, not tomorrow, tonight. I don't know, I don't care, I will tell him to leave right now. Please, baby. What? Why do you wanna know that? Ayrton, some guy that works with Nigel. Yes, Nigel, my cousin. No, he doesn't hate you, you know how Nigel is. He knows you cheated on me and wanted me to have a good time with someone else, that's all. I didn't have that much of a nice time with this guy, not like when I'm with you, come on baby, please. Just come back tonight, I want to feel you so bad."

There is a hell growing inside Ayrton's mind. His vision is blurred, he can't breathe, his chest constrics, there is a knot pushing on his throat. He mindlessly walks back to the room, bumping his body against the walls. He knows he has to collect his clothes and get the hell out of there, but he can't move. Ayrton falls down, sitting on the bed, unable to keep himself on his feet any longer, his heart beating so frantically is going to come out of his chest. Ayrton knows he's in the verge of an anxiety attack.

Adriane comes back into the room and starts dressing herself. "I think you should leave. I like to sleep alone." She says, watching Ayrton's pale complexion. But Ayrton is not listening to her. He can only hear a buzzing in his ears, and his mind is pure chaos.

And between that chaos, some sentences come into light: "I didn't have that much of a nice time with this guy, not like when I'm with you; Ayrton, some guy that works with Nigel; Nigel, my cousin; I miss you too, I love you, come back tonight; I don't care, I will tell him to leave right now."

"Hey. Hey, Ayrton. Are you listening to me? You need to leave." Adriane says, placing a hand on his shoulder. Ayrton looks up at her, his eyes big and dampen with tears. Adriane furrows her brow. "Come on, get dressed and I'll walk you to the door."

*

The air of the night tickles on Ayrton's face, but he can't feel it. He is walking down a street he doesn't recognize, going somewhere he doesn't know. He knew it all along, he fucking knew something bad was going down tonight. But as fucked up as Adriane's behaviour was after sex, the thing that hurts the most in Ayrton's soul was Nigel's doing. 'Cause he knew what he was doing, sending Ayrton with Adriane. He knew about Adriane's boyfriend and the cheating between them, he knew Ayrton was going to be some sort of consolation prize for her because she was angry at her boyfriend. And he didn't care. He didn't give a shit about his feelings. About him being used like that.

Another person that gives a shit about him, Ayrton thinks. How is he going to stare at Nigel in his eyes at work? Because he has to, he is his workmate, they will be seeing each other again every day and he is going to stare at him feeling that twinge of pain every time.

Suddenly, he feels his shirt wet against his skin, and only then he realizes he is crying, his face wet and hot, something so painful and sharp hurting his insides. Ayrton allows himself to break into painful sobs, tears falling warm through his cheeks. There is nobody in the streets, nobody who can help him, comfort him.

Ayrton can't walk another step and he sits down on a bus stop, surrendering his body and mind into the anxiety attack. His body starts shaking uncontrolably as images of that night attacks him like an awful horror movie in his mind. He is crying loudly now, sobbing and whimpering, his lips trembling. Ayrton crosses his arms around his chest, hugging himself drymouthed and dizzy, closing his eyes. He feels like throwing up, but he can't even breathe well. His muscles ache with the involuntary force they are under, and he rocks back and forth, tears falling soaking his sneakers and hitting the ground.

It was all a big mistake, he should have never go out of his house that night. He hates himself, he hates his life, he hates Nigel for being so ruthless and inconsiderate, he hates Adriane for being so careless, but above all he hates himself for being so alone. When is this pain going to end?

*

Ayrton arrives at his house in the middle of the night and goes upstars, to his room, falling right into his bed with his clothes on and his sadness caught up in his heart. He is too tired as to cut his wrist right now, although he desperately needs it. He falls into a deep but uneasy sleep and he doesn't wake up till 12 pm.

When Ayrton opens his eyes and the world is born once again, he doesn't even move. The sharp images of everything that happened last night cuts sharp through his brain, opening up new wounds into his feelings. Thank God he doesn't have to work today and face Nigel. He feels so tired and sore.

Half hour later he emerges and takes a shower, tears falling from his eyes along with the water down his face. Ayrton doesn't even feels strong enough as to face his family. He knows his mother will notice something is wrong, because he can't help feeling and looking like shit. He stands down the water falling from the shower, looking at the floor in defeat. But life goes on, no matter what.