PIG STORIES 2 NEIGHBORHOOD SEX / LITERATURE BROTHEL

Dani came back from the kitchen with two beer cans and his cock hanging heavy between his thighs. It was still soft, but it was already impressive. He dropped onto the bed beside you, handed you a can, and opened his own with a dry click.

You drank. The cold beer went down your throat and was like swallowing something from the real world after being on another planet for an hour. Your ass was throbbing with a dull pain that wasn't entirely unpleasant. It was more like a reminder. A mark that Dani had left inside you where no one could see it.

He remained silent for a while, staring at the ceiling. The can was resting on his chest, going up and down with his breathing. You had your head on the pillow and were looking at his profile without pretending otherwise, because after what had just happened, shame was a luxury you couldn't afford.

"Where are you from, Dani?"

The question came out on its own. The curiosity of a kid who had just lost his virginity and suddenly needed to know who the hell the guy was who had taken it.

Dani took a long swig. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"From here. From the neighborhood. Well, from three streets down. Block 9. Do you know it?"

"Yes. The one on the corner with the vacant lot."

"That's the one. I grew up there with my mom. My dad left when I was four years old. The classic. He went out for cigarettes, and the cigarettes were in Alicante, with a hairdresser who paid more attention to him than my mom did." He took another swig. "My mom worked cleaning doorways and rich people's houses by the hour. She would come home exhausted at nine at night, put a plate of whatever there was in front of me, and fall asleep on the couch with the TV on. I grew up alone, Rafa. Just like you."

You looked at him. There was something different in his voice. Something that wasn't the swagger of before or the tone of command of the guy who ordered you to open your mouth and get on all fours. It was the voice of a neighborhood kid telling another neighborhood kid about his life. Plain. Without embellishments.

"I dropped out of school at sixteen. I went out and looked for work. Shitty jobs. Warehouse, unloading trucks, delivering things on the black market. They paid me shit, and it took them months to do it. When I was eighteen, I joined Paco's gym in the industrial park, in exchange for cleaning the machines and scrubbing the locker rooms. That's where I got buff. Not for health reasons. For survival. In this neighborhood, if you're skinny, they eat you alive. If you're strong, they respect you."

He paused. He clenched his jaw. He was nervous, and you could tell by the way he was moving his right leg without stopping, a nervous tic he couldn't control.

"What do you do now?" you asked.

Dani turned his head towards you. He looked at you for a second. Two. Evaluating you. Calculating how much he could tell y...