Two Drops Of Water. Nicola Rocca

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Two Drops Of Water - Nicola Rocca

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wants to gorge himself like an animal that has just emerged from hibernation. The thought prompts a twinge inside his pants.

      ‘Behave!’ he tells himself.

      His breathing starts to become heavy and laboured. Beads of sweat begin to form on his brow. He’s getting aroused; it always happens like this.

      Another glance at the shape in the corner. Another little fiddle downstairs. His mouth begins to water.

      ‘Later! She’s not going anywhere,’ he tells himself. ‘She’s all yours...’

      “All mine!”

      He smiles because he knows it's the truth.

      He takes a deep breath, lets his pants fall to the floor and uses his tongue to suck the air through his teeth. He loves the feeling it gives him, the sensation on his teeth and gums.

      He enters the shower, lifts up the mixer tap and turns it all the way to the right. He wants it ice cold, like always.

      As the water beats down relentlessly on his muscular back, he begins to anticipate what will happen when he has finished washing himself.

      The saliva begins to taste sweet in his mouth and the urge in his groin becomes uncontrollable.

      Thankfully, it’s nearly time to get out of the shower...

      CHAPTER 4

      ‘Is it really me that should be ashamed?’

      Chantal poured herself a glass of sparkling mineral water and sipped it slowly but determinedly, fuelling herself with some non-alcoholic Dutch courage.

      ‘It's them who should be ashamed, paying me a pittance for two years and...’

      There was a thud as she angrily thumped her fist on the table.

      ‘...and then letting me go. Morons!’

      Chantal became enraged every time she thought back to when she was fired, or, more accurately, they refused to renew her contract. What pissed her off the most was the shame she felt at being unemployed and living off benefits of four hundred euros a month.

      Four hundred euros...

      She'd dedicated her life to her studies for four hundred shitty euros a month. Oh, and an Economics degree. Which she could use for...making a paper aeroplane or maybe wiping her arse. Oh yes. That was Italy in 2016. On the one hand, there were people with a career spanning more than forty years who weren't about to retire anytime soon; and on the other, there were millions of young people who would give their eye teeth for a job - any bloody job.

      Unfortunately for Chantal, she was one of those young people.

      She took out a fag, went into her bedroom and switched on the computer. Her long, drawn-out drags meant she was down to the butt in no time.

      Chantal opened the chat site and tried to think how she could possibly explain her plight to AlfreDario77.

      There was an unread message.

      03/02/2016

      AlfreDario77 20.32

      Fine...you could have just said if you didn't want to chat anymore. If your manners ever come back, you know where I am.

      “Fair enough,” she said to the screen. “I'd have been pissed off if someone had done that to me.”

      She took another puff and drummed her fingers on the desk, trying desperately to think of how she could respond.

      04/02/2016

      SadChantal 10.15

      Hi...

      I’m so sorry about last night. It’s not that I didn't want to keep talking to you. Something came up.

      That was fine to start with, while she waited for some inspiration on how she could deal with the whole work thing. Also, she wanted to be sure he was online, which would be confirmed by the little green circle next to his name.

      She casually rolled the wheel of her mouse to scroll up the screen in search of yesterday's messages.

      It might not be the most fun and light-hearted topic for most people, but it is for me. What do you do? For work, I mean.

      And then...

      Don’t tell me I’ve touched another nerve with work!

      She decided to try and respond to that final comment, which was probably the easiest to cope with. She wrote her message but waited a couple of minutes before sending it, hoping he would come online.

      Nothing.

      She opted to finish the fag with a triple drag that brought tears to her eyes, before stubbing it out firmly in the ash tray, steeling herself and decisively hitting the return key to send her message.

      04/02/2016

      SadChantal 10.18

      You're right. You did touch a nerve as far as my work is concerned… :-(

      She focused on what to type next, her fingers once more drumming against the desk. The sentences were beginning to form in her mind. She was almost there when she was distracted by a familiar ping.

      04/02/2016

      AlfreDario77 10.19

      Hey...welcome back! You took your time...

      04/02/2016

      SadChantal 10.20

      Sorry again about last night...

      04/02/2016

      AlfreDario77 10.20

      No problem!

      Chantal thought about what to say next, but he beat her to it.

      04/02/2016

      AlfreDario77 10.20

      So I did touch a nerve with work? I'm sorry. I'm all ears if you want to offload...

      She knew it was time to come clean. If there was anyone who should be ashamed of themselves it was those tossers at Robobi's, who had refused to renew her contract after turning her brain to mush for two years with bills, receipts, tax returns, payslips and whatever else.

      Bastards!

      Her jaw tightened every time she thought about it.

      04/02/2016

      SadChantal 10.22

      I've been out of work for 5 months...

      Only

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