With my old friend, through a booth, we made an appointment with some girls who were in a flat, in the Plaza Virgen del Manzano, Burgos.

According to what they told us, they were beautiful with a pert ass and a carnivorous flower named and admired, above all, by the old men of the Huertos de Don Ponce, in Capiscol.

We agreed to go visit them at seven in the evening. On the way, from the Plaza de Vega to Virgen del Manzano, and to distract ourselves, we saw stickers stuck on the lampposts, and peeled them off to stay with them, highlighting this one, a marvel and with a truth greater than the cathedral, on a lamppost from the Paseo del Espolón:

Anarchists Abort Countries, Flags, Borders, and the Racism They Generate

A young woman made us stop and, approaching me, she asked me if she knew her. I replied:

“How can I not know you if you’ve been my whore a couple of times?”

She smiled, going the way she had come.

We followed the path and, in the Plaza de España, on one of its lampposts, we saw this other sticker:

Yes, I love you…but as a friend…of other people…that I know.

Already in the Plaza Virgen del Manzano, near the appointment floor building, in front of the offices of the Municipal Bus Service, we saw this sticker, on another lamppost, that some women from home services were looking at, a couple of City Council ordinances and an Amazon delivery man, who were amazed at Rubén Darío’s words, as they themselves confirmed among themselves and, later, with us. This:

Those who rest in sweet peace under cold tombs are not dead. Dead are those who have cold souls and still live.” — Rubén Darío

Right now, we are at the door of the flat. Before knocking, two beautiful women arrived and opened the door with their key, telling us as we entered:

“Come with us.”

One was called Africa and the other Grace. My friend told us that he didn’t bring any money, so he would run out of dust, but that he would be waiting for me in the dining room watching a porn movie. That he would give them five euros to see the film and a glass of orange.

I don’t know if it was Africa or Grace but, one of the two, she told me:

“Wait, now I’ll tell you and I’ll call you from that bedroom.”

I waited sitting down, very close to the bedroom. So close to her that I saw her undress, saying to her potorro or her pussy:

“Let’s see how Don Baldomero behaves.”

Later, I heard a sweet whisper coming out of her carnivorous flower, which told me:

“Boy, come on.”

I entered, and I got into her to slaughter, because she told me to hurry up, that it is only a moment of 15 minutes and €20. I wrapped myself around her like a dog. Oh, how I enjoyed her. So my love was seen inside, the dust was fulfilled, and all my sperm danced inside.

Passed out, senseless, almost dropping dead after the act, saying to my friend:

“I thought I was going to lose my member.”

I paid her the €20 and we left.

On a lamppost on Avenida de la Paz, we saw this sticker, which we took:

I am going to create a nudist religion, and I intend to denounce all those who do not go with their genitals exposed for offending my religious feelings.

“Great stickers, eh, Baldomero?”

“Yes, Cyril.”