THE FATHER-IN-LAW (1/3)

It had to happen someday. And plenty of times I had deserved it: for being shameless and for staring. What was unexpected was how it ended.

Thiago is a Venezuelan who arrived in the neighborhood this year with his family: his wife, two kids, and her father.

Tanned skin, jeans showing off thick thighs, ass, and bulge. Once he parked the motorcycle, he would lean at the bar, without his jacket, with those defined pecs. If he went out to smoke, I followed, pretending to talk on my phone and glancing at him sideways.

That day he was coming out of the bathroom, zipping up. I looked him up and down. I couldn’t help it. And that time it was very blatant.

I went out to smoke, to disappear from there. Our eyes had met and his expression had been one of discomfort. But that time I had gone too far. I smoked nervously, thinking about going back in while staring at the floor, grabbing my things, and running away.

“Got a light?” I heard to my left, and my blood froze.

“Yes, sure, of course,” I took out the lighter and gave it to him. I barely looked at him. When he gave it back, I dropped it on the ground and bent down. I would have thrown myself onto the sidewalk to lick his red sneakers like a vicious dog.

“Hey, do I remind you of someone or what? Why don’t you stop staring at me? What the hell! You’ve been doing it for days now and...” As I straightened up, I saw his tight jeans, ripped at the right knee, his tight thighs, his bulge, and his tight T-shirt.

I turned red as a tomato. What excuse could I make?

“No... I don’t know, maybe, it’s just... well, I apologize, I didn’t mean to bother you... no, it’s nothing, I... Don’t think anything weird, okay?”

He let out the hint of an ironic smile:

“Nothing weird...” he repeated mockingly and, after a pause, said to me: “Do you like sucking cock?”

“...” I fell silent.

“That’s it, right?” He took another drag from his cigarette.

“Honestly, man, I swear, seriously, I’ll never again...” I tried unsuccessfully, stumbling over my words, to get out of there.

“Ssshhh, man, take it down a notch,” he replied with a calmness that threw me off. “There, in the garage of number seven, I’ve got a spot for the motorcycle, all the way at the back.”

I looked at him, confused. I couldn’t believe that... No doubt, I was misunderstanding.

“Will you be discreet? That’s the thing, because if not...” He looked at me and lowered his head, making me look down too. He grabbed his bulge and rubbed it several times.

“I’m the first to...” I shut my mouth, reacted, wiping the sweat from my forehead, and explained in a low voice. “I’ve been in the neighborhood for years, the people at the bar have known me all my life.”

“Let ten minutes pass, then you go out and wait for me at the door,�...