White Squad. Annalu Braga
themselves, as if it were the first time for the two women, while he finishes enjoying himself on Karin's back, drooling all over her body. Conrado reaches for the wallet. He picks up an envelope, pouring the white content onto the convex salience on the blonde's spine, and stretches a foot-long cocaine line. He embraces her, rubbing his member in the middle of her legs and sniffing the powder until a prolonged end, at the furrow of the small, and muscular girl's butt. The sex and power nuptial march continues, while he watches excitedly, as Wal's mouth sinks into her partner's pubic hair, as she stands on the table. Her vulva, a dull and penetrating pink, contrasts with the dyed blond hair, making him more horny, sipping in the flesh confrontations´ details . Michele asks her to finalize her actions with the due compassion: materializing the pleasure contained in martyrdom.
– Kill me, Wal, but kill me willingly ... – and Wal adds energy to her lover's face expression, using fingers and tongue in the cradle of her golden-red dreams. The doctor watches everything with learning determination, as if he could never overcome them in bed. Drinks the rest of his whiskey, keeping a small piece of ice between his teeth. He approaches Karin's back and runs the ice-melted tongue around her spine, doing sequential circles down to her butt.
– Your time has come, stud. Babe, call me Doc, this is how I like it, okay?
It's your turn to experience my power.
Karin, naughtlly, allows herself to be entirely embraced, being approached with the intensity of one man. His desire is voracious, perpetuating within the walls of the motel.
– Approach is loyal. Penetration is lion, – ponders Wal, the blonde with a thousand sexual spells.
Leaning against his shoulder, Michele, the creature with green eyes and a clearly livid after-sex look, theorizes that “anything can happen uptown, this is Zona Sul (TN: Literally, South End, usually the best neighborhood in Brazilian cities)”. After she moved from Niterói to Rio, only sex maniacs have showed up in her sexual encounters. Since she met her colleagues and, as she vows – was “co-opted” -, it has been a succession of setbacks, but now there is no turning back, it´s all fine.
In bed, Karin gets surrounded by the male stalker organ. Conrad imposes a crazy rhythm, with little saliva and exceeding impatience. With an experienced succession of firm strokes, he smiles, convinced of his power, while "working", surrounding the female. Wal helps herself to a drink ,and leans against the jealous window edge. Not even the sea is that blue today ... Michele joins her, wrapped in a red satin towel.
– This "little doctor" is going to give us a lot of trouble. I thought it would be a quickie, but the consultation will last a long time. There's two in the waiting line— she mocks.
"The way he's "snorted," he's not going to drop "the ball" —her friend says. openly.
The afternoon sun already shows up on the horizon, like a thin trace in the middle of the sea, waking the bodies lying over the bed. Conrado consults his watch with the defiant tone of a robot. Rubs his eyes and gets up, still naked.
– Dammit! Ladies, it's time to set sail!
Intertwined, Michele and Wal grumble when they are awakened. Conrado dresses in seconds, in a bad-mood foam. Separates 10 100-real bills and hands eight to the green-eyed blonde Karin, the chosen goddess, the one totally consumed. The other pair of notes is disputed by the rest. He recommends the young women leave their business cards with the brunet receptionist and picks up his car´s keys. Karin looks at the girls with an inviting look, and they reciprocate. "The commander leaves and the crew starts the party", saying so, locks the bedroom door and the blondes´ private little party begins .
In the apartment facing the Lagoon (TN: Rodrigo de Freitas Lagoon, a well-known touristic venue in Rio as well as a neighborhood denomination), Roberta cries, but it's not the first time she's shedding tears for her husband. The old-fashioned linen embroidered scarf is named after João Henrique. "If I had embraced some religion, I wouldn't be suffering so much," reflects the woman, marked by a long white hair wick lying on the right side of her fringe.
Without a shadow of a doubt, a beautiful woman in her fifties. Overlooking the balcony ´s rail in the Lagoa's apartment, she watches the comes and goes of cars on the waterfront.
The light turns green and a car crash becomes a new ordeal. Roberta observes the confusion, worried. "It's not the first time, never is." Remembers the tragic accident that hit João Henrique.
The couple had prepared to hit the road and enjoy the moments together. Almost thirty years of marriage and this was the promised vacation from one to the other, to rekindle the relationship. Ouro Preto would be the final destination, the most romantic place possible for them.
On the highway, the car started choking.
– Roberta, we are out of gas!
– How come, is it empty?
– Look at the marker!
– João, haven´t you fueled the tank before we left Rio?
– Honey, I was so anxious for this trip, I forgot. I'm sorry, but you leave it to me. Stay in the car, I'm going to push it.
In a split second, headlights appeared on the other side of the road. Roberta saw the lights and signaled at it, asking for help.The car at high speed skidded on the curve, hitting the side of the couple's car. The impact projected João's body to the shoulder. The driver braked, but gave up, and resumed his way, speeding. Roberta came across her husband on the side of the shoulder: the shirt stained at breast height, and she shouted his name.
An ambulance appeared at the curve with opened doors , and paramedics jumped, nimbly. The doctor examined João Henrique, searching for some fracture.
– Calm down, sir, you don't have to struggle. Just hold on tight til the hospital in Teresópolis. It's about 8 miles from here.
– My wife, please tell her I'm fine.
– Do you feel any pain here?
– The shoulder blade hurts a lot.
On arrival at the hospital, Roberta, after digging for some calm somewhere in her mind, called her daughter, . Roberta lit a cigarette, taking a long drag. She quit smoking more than four years ago, and now there was no way to keep the pledge.
– No, not to me! " her cry drowned out by the comfort of tobacco.
In the hospital corridors, there was a general rush. Major accident. A nurse held the hand of a young girl, her face shredded by glass cuts . "But my husband is going to get away with this, it's just a cracked rib. That's all," Roberta sought the lull of a hypothetical sea amid chaos.
In the background, a man hugged the doctor and begged him to save his sister. Roberta watched the scene and tried to convince herself that it was just routine procedure. Tatiana called next, crying.
– Tati, I didn't remember filling it up with gas in Rio. If anyone's guilty, it's me.
– Mom, it was the guy who ran over Dad. He was in the wrong direction. I'm going to the police station and see if anyone saw it. It's not possible that there was no one on the road, or in a nearby house, someone who witnessed this tragedy.
– There's no point in doing anything now. First we need to get your father out of here, this hospital is horrible.
– I'm going there.
The surgeon in charge called her name. Roberta looked around her and noticed the place´s odness, with corridors full of distressed people and arid paints on their souls. She took a deep breath when the doctor began explaining the situation.
– As we expected, it was just a rib fissure, and the treatment consists basically on resting. For now, we will maintain his functions normalized, and assist with artificial ventilation to reduce pulmonary effort. In a week, at most, he'll be fine.
At the apartment window, an ambulance siren throws her into the present. “If I had looked into the car´s gas level ... If I had not gone into the car ... If I had him push the car to the shoulder and waited for help, none of this would have happened.