Juan Salanova

A Year Of Sex Fantasy Tales


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had the first results. Meetic, eDarling... but they were pages once she had heard her work mate laughing at, which she called convent flings. She decided to look for something stronger.

       - Liberal dating pages - she re-typed. And there was another website that had recently made headlines because of the identity theft of its user profiles. But it wasn't the one she wanted either. She tried it one more time.

      - Sexual dating pages - she typed now, looking forward to the result. Yes, there was the name XXX that obsessed her. She had found the door to an unknown world that she nervously wanted to explore.

      Even with the nervousness of a teenager, she chose the heterosexual option for women and was able to spy on the calls of men and women who smiled at her as if they had known each other all her life. But just seeing didn't do her any good. She wanted to meet.

      Even with doubts about whether what she was doing would be crazy, she signed up.

      - Username: Virginia

      - Password... Email... Message: Looking for pleasure - she wrote without knowing if it would be too direct.

      - Photo.... - She decided not to put anything in.

      - What an embarrasement! If my friends or office mates see me. I'm dying, sure!

      When the programme confirmed that the registration was correct, she was able to enter the privacy of her 'virtual boyfriend'. Men of all ages, of all races, of all physical appearances looked at her smiling and seemed to tell her to choose them.

      She didn't have to wait long. At the moment she had the sign that someone was writing to her. Alongside the photo was the age: 33 years old

      - Virginia, my name is Black, I'm looking for a woman like you to get to know each other and have a nice time together. I want to make you really happy. Write to me.

      Eva was amazed. A handsome young man gazed at her with a sharp look that seemed to see beyond her surface. She really liked him. She started to press all the icons in the interface until she managed to open his profile. To her surprise, in addition to other data about his weight and height, it said he was 9,500 km away.

      - But where is this guy? she said to herself.

      - Where are you? - she typed.

      - I'm a man tired of working at sea and I want to stablish couple with you. Do you have a picture? I'd really like to see you.

      - No, I'm new, I don't have a picture yet.

      - Give me your email. I have a lot of work to do and I can't write properly here.

      - But where are you?

      - I want to leave this job and relocate to your country. I've got enough money for us to have a comfortable life. This is my email. [email protected]. Write to me. I want to hear from you privately.

      Before her the email that was attracting her shone with a distinctive colour. She had serious doubts about the sender of those messages, doubts that would have been expanded if she had known the meaning of the word "fake" in the email. But she belonged to the generation of French learners, only translating it into Spanish. She paused for a moment at that message and did not know why she was thinking of her ex then. Perhaps by comparison to the inclusive styles of men when they want to be husbands. But her second ex, of whom she had trouble remembering even his physical features, would never have spoken like that. She had been the one who had set the direction and rhythm of their life as a couple. He had let himself be carried into everyday life, towards a socially accepted state that made life easier after the age of 40. When no child was born after ten years of living together, he managed to get pregnant another woman 20 years younger and began his life as a father.

      Eva finally agreed. Why not keep talking? It was far away and he didn't know her address or her phone number. If she wasn't interested in what he said, blocking his email was enough. She was aware that she was filling her existential void with another unknown, distant life, with hardly any references, without even the other side having a picture of her. Going to her email server, she wrote to [email protected].

      - But how can you talk like that if you don't even know me? Tell me about yourself, please.

      - United States Marine Engineer on mission in Kuwait. I'll be leaving soon and I'm transferring to Europe.

      As the conversation progressed Eva was finally able to see that she was talking to a machine.

      -You can see me naked on the website "XX naked.com". Turn on your webcam.

      - God! she said, and immediately closed any virtual contact.

      She started to think. What was the point of talking to women without an interlocutor on the other side? Among the various possibilities she could think of was a way to increase the visibility of the ads that always floated around the ends of the screen without her being aware of them, by having more and more people connected to them. The virtual interlocutor would be just the bait for her to keep seeing the ads. And she learned that the first rule of chatting was lying.

      Nightmare night, feeling that they were using her body, without even looking at her beautiful blue eyes, without her head having any other function than to use it to kiss her lips and touch the rich hair which she felt so proud of. A night of hormonal disorder, upset stomach, rolling over in a bed that seemed to be shared with strange men who were thirsty for sex.

      At 8:00, tired of rolling, she got up and went to the bathroom. Her still drowsy eyes seemed to be asking an irresolvable question.

      - What am I doing? she said to her tired face that she saw reflected in the mirror.

      As she was on her way to the kitchen to prepare her brief breakfast, she heard the key to the door. Finally, her niece arrived.

      - Good morning, Aunt! We brought you some dumplings!

       The plural verb made her look more closely. There were two girls holding each other by the shoulder, with slightly tipsy eyes, who looked at each other long and hard.

       - This is María. I think you know her. She also comes from the village. Since she has no room, I invited her to come to your house. You're okay with that, right?

       - Hi María. Would you like some coffee?

       - Better orange juice if you have it, Auntie. My throat's dry.

       After a quiet breakfast, the two girls went to sleep and Eva returned to her usual solitude. She couldn't stop thinking that these holidays were going to be different, although she still didn't know if it was good or bad.

       As she watched the daily shows of the previous day and the programming of that day and beyond, she heard the sound of whatsap.

       - Hi Evi. How's it going? We are enjoying a fantastic time. And the valley is beautiful in autumn. How about you? I'm sending pictures.

       Virginia was still so passionate about Nature, using it as a mechanism to replace her lack of a partner, whom she was incessantly looking for, with less and less success.

       After several photos of colourful leaves, rivers, mountains and bridges, a personal photo of Eva in a bathing suit unexpectedly appeared.

       - Cool, huh? I took it from you in Cadaqués. Remember? Well favoured you are, you jerk.

       It was true. On that occasion, the combination of light and posture had given rise to an unreliable image. For those who did not know her, she represented a woman 20 years younger than herself.

       She could not spend much time inactive, only contemplating the idealized photo on her mobile phone.

       - Why don't I put this picture in the chat room? That way it will be easier to know that whoever is on the other side is a real person - she said unsure.

       Even though she had not been an adventurous girl throughout her life, this time she was. It was a different vacation, and she had decided to indulge everything. Hidden from her usual environment of friends, she was now a single woman determined to open the door to the world of sex with lonely strangers locked in a rectangular space.