It was afternoon when the workers left the factories and returned home. She and me, without knowing each other, took Line 5 of the Madrid Subway in Callao; she sat opposite me in a crowded wagon.

I was on fire with passion, with the member out of the underwear, dreaming of wanting to flirt. As soon as I saw her, she was so beautiful that, instantly, I fell in love with her.

Trying to marry her, I looked at her making my eyes guide hers to the crossing of my pants, where my erect member, inside her pants, was beckoning to try to break her fly.

A drop, like mother-of-pearl, came out of the cloth, remaining attached to it.

She was amazed at the mother-of-pearl button, noticing in her eyes a desire to reach out to me. She looked at me, lowered her eyes to the crossing of her pants guiding mines towards a bulb like cocoon that opened inside her moving the petals or nymphs of her.

Alive as they were, we let our sexes play at close range, not caring about the people around us, even though we were all squeezed like canned sardines.

I had to get off in Urgel, but I decided to go down where she got off, because I wanted to make her fall in love with dreaming that under her pretty breast, she would have a mole.

She got off at Carabanchel. I followed her behind; I tried, when we went up the escalators towards the exit of it, to get close to her and touch her like the fish do with each other in the sea.

She knew I was following her, waiting, I know, for me to say something to her; and I didn’t tell him anything about her.

At the entrance to the portal of her house, she turned to me; she looked at me; but she did not come to me and I did not come to her, as each of us expected.

But how dull the two of them! I said to myself. I’m dumber than her.

I had already come inside my pants, and I knew that my member could not resuscitate at this moment; that is why I left the place, walking towards my house, in Urgel, saying to myself:

Damn my member, and damn me for letting go such a beautiful woman.