That's what a friend said when scared, I told this story, which may seem an abstract of a Dago García film is real life. I know it seems incredible, but it happened, and someone who knows almost by heart the asked me to write. So that does not happen!! Ojo, peel, baby! The devil is pork.
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The room had 3 parts. A lounge with a large library, a desk and a table to read. Then came the bedroom: single bed, closet and TV. And the fund was the bathroom. While he was watching me eat me face, I could not hide my discomfort, and detail each part of the place waiting for my friend call me. The library was indeed full of books on law and theology. There Christs, Virgins and paintings of angels everywhere.
To break the ice, or to make you feel bad, I said, "this seems a convent." And he very boldly replied: "hahaha, right? It was once a convent, but now rent rooms, and since my apartment is being remodeled so I'm staying here. But this atmosphere is rich and heavenly feeling. " Pfffffffffffffff!
I kept looking around. "But you really like the angels, no?", Was 7 large pictures of winged men on the bed. "Yes, I collect them, they brought me a friend of nowhere and put here to join me as I hand over the apartment." I do not know if the man saw me jerk face or what, but he insisted on her story. "But still, sit in bed alone. With confidence. "
turned on the TV, sat next to me and while watching Cristina Hurtado, or who was commenting on the fashion of those attending the possession Obama, he began to make noises. Seriously. I think something possessed him every 5 seconds because emitting a sound like a pig. I was feeling sick and run, but he would not do it without an excuse such as call from my friend who has not yet effected.
paid I asked the bathroom, locked myself and I was looking in the mirror for a while. I felt awful. Before she had a seminarian but only we were heading, and not in a place like that. I do not know why either a kidnapping or murder. If that guy does not kill me, what would the 7 sixtysomethings bandages and the nun with a harness. And if he was alive As I was going to burn in hell.
Confiteor I remembered: "I Confess (...) that I have sinned in thought, word, and deed." I had thought the priest eat, so I thought I had sinned. He had already said yes, went to his apartment (Convent), so I had sinned in word. Now came the decision, act or omission "?. If you missed tooth, God would punish me for making him break the vow of chastity to one of the elect, but the good would happen. If he did not did not matter, and had two top sins, but not one made the difference as well end the day with cramp Ranger, and I do a pot in hell is more terrible than a pain in the ass. My mom always told me: "It is better to regret something you did than something you did not do", and Diego Torres finished off with: "It is better to miss that never shipped, more tempted to stop trying ..." so in the midst of philosophy and decided I embarked force and no sin of omission. Dear God What I've put into these to take away the desire to cure before raping some acolyte?. My fault, my fault, by my great fault!
I left the bathroom. He looked at me with eyes retrechera and said: "Are you active, right?". I replied: "Yes Father." "Well, what rich person because I am good!", And take, I ordered the hand to the candle. That year I've lost, baptism and first communion. Rumbea that the bluyiniada, the shirt removed, manosiada, out socks, pants off, threw it on the bed and stared at me, it was delicious. Pa 'Dear God why but it wad with that server. Pan pan pan suddenly stopped ... we both hit a scare the devil, I figured Monsignor Rubiano entering me with a whip. It was my cell phone. Breathe, he continued on his own and with the mouth full answer told me not to sound more. He was my best friend was a little scared by the message, even 5 minutes had passed was like 20. " Are you okay? ... yeah, cool, now I call. you sure you're okay? ... so ... ahhhhh. Where are you? ... uhmmmm'm at a friend you call when you leave .... Uuufffff. Please ! Do you want to call the police? ... Yeahhhh ... oh no! Muuuyyy ... everything is good talk right now. Chao! ".
The rite continued. I immersed myself in his perfect chest and hairy for a while, I went down, I played with her navel and I arrived. I took off my underwear and plin, went a little something for nothing. I remembered that always Easter Paschal candles sold at different prices and sizes, for this I think I gave away. I had never seen a penis so small, good for someone that age. I'm very bad for the calculations, but I think it was about 5 inches erect and was skinny. Ahhh, yes, tiny but well proportioned. It was just forradita urethra. I swear I did not laugh. No wonder he got a priest, I thought. I thought the pipicito tender, so I played a little bit. Have sucked kite?
good thing was that later or more ago, I realized that God would punish me for making him break the celibacy Guarever Fr. Clothes had that yard like a cathedral door wide open. Mine came in like he owned the place, softly and right. So I had not broken anything. It was already used. A sin less.
Everything was going well up there ... with the exception of Chile's small package. But the climax came and things changed. We were in full roast chicken and this man began to transform. "Give me hard, I'm your stray dog!" Was the most decent he said as he gasped. Yes, it is rich to hear dirty stuff, but not soooo dirty, and less from the mouth of a minister of the Lord. Then I blocked, I began to look ahead and I was in purgatory. The seven angels watching me with horror, the Virgins and the Christs talked among themselves ready for my punishment. On the other hand, in the summary possession of Obama, Aretha Franklin sang My country tis of thee is, with that devilish giant gray bun. I did not know where to look, and wanted to finish my homework, the priest shut his mug and run out there, but nothing. I guess for devolution and was going the wrong time, this was the most eternal dust of my life.
I wiped, I dressed and grabbed my suitcase. He did so and left the room, watching the road was clear for my departure. Meanwhile I esculqué all, as Soraya Montenegro looking for proof of infidelity Luis Fernando. I felt cheated. Needed to confirm my suspicion. I found no robes, but above the desk was a plastic sheet with the extensions and room numbers of the convent. Pepito Pérez Br 201, 202 Sultanito Br. He came and told me to leave now. I never got to see the rest of the list or number of the door, so I was in them.
I did leave the parking lot is fired in a low voice and said: thanks!. Hence the end of shit. How is it that says thank you ????. Yes, I know, I did a big favor, but one not appreciated after sex, unless it is a prepaid and makes you a discount. I wanted to start to spit and scream cure roscón!. I restrained myself and left. Everything was shaking, I had a fit of nervous laughter, I was packed, I wanted to mourn. I called my best friend and I said, I just ate a priest because of you. She almost goes out the window of the taxi in which he was and made me go to 93 to tell the story.
Then I got home, and after a little research with my friend Margaret, the same sentence gave me the title of this post, I found the following: Yes it was a convent I visited the site and it still works as a convent. There live the monks of a religious order, and most are teachers from a Catholic university is next door. They are not cures but they are like male nuns, and one of its virtues is celibacy. Is that a virtue?
That's what a friend said when scared, I told this story, which may seem an abstract of a Dago García film is real life. I know it seems incredible, but it happened, and someone who knows almost by heart the asked me to write. So that does not happen!! Ojo, peel, baby! The devil is pork.
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was 10 am on January 20, 2009. I was very judicious in my office working, focused on a plan of shooting, when suddenly Tururú, opened a window of Messenger and someone said Hello. I had no idea who it was that greeted me, but I'm as decent as I said. I saw the picture, and although the characters posing in dark glasses was seen as good, but still did not know who it was. After the greetings protocol I asked if we knew and I said no. Sure, sure we had exchanged emails in Manhunt or something.
I said his name was Carlos, 35, professor of law, high acuerpado, hairy, passive ... perfect. We talk about life, death, traffic, love, clouds, sent me photos to post, we discussed the transfer of possession of Obama, was that day, so I remember the date-and time well spent , until at 5 pm he invited me for coffee. I did not see the problem, I left the office, I bought a couple of condoms and reached the place agreed upon: a coffee Chapinero. Just
I saw I liked. His description coincided with reality. He had a delightful beard and eyes to catch a spanking. We talked for half an hour, we started another dog until I was invited for a drink at her apartment. I was ready so I did not pray. The man looked so serious that I thought was going to ask me one, but when one is invited to the apartment is because they want guasamalleta, and well, that's what I like to give.
He said he lived in an apartment in Chapinero Alto, close to where we were, so we started walking. A block before he said his apartment was under renovation and that the brother did not know why and that's why he was staying in that house, I pointed it out. At that point I did not care if he was home, apartment or park, my blood had already been settled and I would not pull back. From time to time I went to the following: "Let's do one thing: I'm going to go first and you'll notice, we can not make noise, so little step ... shhh."
was a huge house, old, looked like a school. He entered the parking lot and the little while he went out and made me sign. I entered, I stood still, waiting for instructions. I was in a thriller, and that excited me more. He closed the door, everything was dark. Not heard anything. I was behind a wall as if waiting for appeared to shoot the bad guy, my gun was properly loaded. He continued and then I made another sign, I went forward on tiptoe. And there was light. We were like a lobby, there was a large table, a staircase and a bust of someone. I looked down and my sneakers covered up letters in a table. He said: Convento San José El Grande *.
Then I took another crime film color. Feel I went from hero to victim. Went through my head in a second all kinds of scenes. I appeared in a gagged on the altar of a chapel surrounded by candles red, in another police handcuffed me out of the convent while some yelled shocked padrecitos Sinner! Sinner!, And another, 7 sixtysomethings bandages and a sling nun raped me mercilessly in a pew. That's where I sent a text message to my best friend, call me in 5 mins. Urgent!.
For several years he had been thinking about hell, but at that moment I saw made tripe in the fifth pot in the house of Lucifer. Sure, it was he who had trapped me in fag, promiscuous and confident. Or was God who wanted me to come closer to Him, to let me dispose of men and one dedicated to truth, and so I took a friend's house. I do not know. I just closed my eyes and hoped that something or someone get me out of there.
Carlos, or Father Guarever, I made another sign, we climbed to the second floor. There was a long hallway filled with doors on either side. Quickly he opened one and went inside. He said: "Stay here a second," and left. My breathing was a thousand. I felt that death or eternal damnation were very close. I asked God to spend 5 minutes fast for my friend call me and save me from hell. He turned, his eyes were different, the little game of cops was over. He said: "Ready, are you home", and closed the door.
continued ...
* Name changed for security.
