La Petite Fleur

I met the beautiful and mysterious Caroline Ueda Fontaine in an underground club , as typical of those who came along as the indie trend took over the central region of the city. An old house of internal walls painted black, where before were strippers, now there are indie bands.



At that time I wrote for an online website of alternative rock and my companion that night was my colleague critical pop, no more than an urban legend in gonzo personality. Polemico and Junkie as hell, I called him, affectionately, "uncle Farinas". Others named him as "Old Teets." In another words, he was a creature of the underworld. But without wanting to add him to this tour, I follow down the story of what really matters: the beautiful.



Her parents divorced when she was still a baby. The French father is a professor of music and was living for years in Marseille. The mother nissei (japanese descendent), plastic artist, moved to Toronto, Canada two years before, when received irrefutably work proposal. Since then, the daughter of Ms. Ueda lived alone in São Paulo.



Every Thursday night was the law for Carol: leave the suite of the two stars hotel where lived in downtown to enjoy the best night of the week at some of the various nice clubs that plays electro-rock and possible to go on foot, while taking a good dose of cold Smirnoff in some bar along the way. But it was not only that. She also had to feed his favourite hobbie, the pleasureable and famous webphotolog called "La Vie en Rouge." From time to time added by spyce night images that she did of other girls or herself before the mirror. Almost always sensual and accompanied by micro-poems made by her own, the photos were never obvious; blurry effects of light colored lenses able to create effects such psicodelics as intriguing. Success of visitation without need to reveal and explore the beauty of her beautiful face.



The night waiting, with its cold cozy, its moon hidden by a cloudy sky with a place where the smoke of dry ice will be interfering between strobe lights, numbing generously her soul and his body, along with some generous doses of the sacred vodka.



She called me the attention as soon as I saw her for the very first time. So white, smooth and shiny. Fleshy mouth in right measure, elegant. Adorable legs assembled in black scarpim. On the left arm, a sleeve of unclear tattoos. Sinuses naturally large, without any disproportion. At the beginning of the night she was quiet, using gloves and black clothing worn in black and white. Marking her waist, an irresistible "corset by Madame Sher." Edgy and sophisticated at the same time. Small, I remember her small. Shy. Late night, in advance of the hour, she began to move a caipirinha with the fingers and sucking the drenched fabric of vodka. I was fascinated; was a rare flower in the midst of many weeds.



Our first dialogue began with "do you have marijuana", coming from her. I don't remember exactly how I get close. But I am sure that from the moment that our eyes are crossed we didn't take our views of one another. And she had all that vital energy that only the teenagers have. Screaming soul in orange, green and pink and lemon-shock colors. Despite of the black & white visual, she was fan of dance-rock, new-rave, you know. It was much fluorescence in a pack SW. Color the view, only in the mouth, red lipstick and nails in the scintillant reddish.



Only incredible two minutes: it was the time left for the intimacy begin between an Italian-Portuguese boy with a French-Japanese girl. Never happende in the history of this planet as an affinity instantly and spontaneously between two people that dries to the mouth of each other with the porpouse to prove a new flavor. And that lovely flavor, sweetened with fire and love. Hot and unconditional; something so sudden it should be illegal in some cultures.



Yes, it happened all too quickly; form kiss on the wall to my erection to wet passion. What to do in that flaming situation? Melt down or come into action? We get the second option. We got down to the ground, through a door "employees only" leading to the basement. With the release of security, my pall; Black Junior.



Black was that environment without a lamp. And in the midst of the complete pitch, we layed down there on the floor. At that subsoil we were high, extremely high, floating on clouds of soft cotton. I took off her clothes. Bited her spout sinus and filled my mouth with all that tired chest. Then I took her by the hips at the same time that the libido was raised to the air from his grace. And she pressure the body it against my. And she did a scrub-scrub of her buttocks on my hard penis.



Carol in full trance licked me and I kissed me from the ear to the shoulder. When I talked delights of pleasure and I left her completely submissive to my desire to do her, the mad desire to consummate the visceral union she shout: "With the sound of the dance floor no one can hear us," she said. I just thought: "wow! crazy!" With the level of vision practically zero, only the movements of her whole body dancing over me that increased both our fire that I took off her skirt in a single act and gave her a deep dive in the middle of her legs and left her a beautiful purple mark in delicious and delicate lips lower, hummm ... There was no room for thought, there were only desire and will to accomplish it. I wanted to savor the orgasm it. When I finally succeeded, it was time to repay her at the pleasure primal designed.



"What madness! How well my sperm is sweet?"



Only five minutes after a quick silence, we two were taking a rest reclining nudes and then, the heat was present again. I took a condom that was in my pocket in two seconds. She placed in knees. "I want to do it in dogstyle. Come!" Delicacy, then with rhythm and violence. I have a "route" by touch, by hearing; moan tasty she showed me how much she liked, as a discreet smile at the corner of the lips, well, as that looking back, in profile. After the burning, horny became orgasm divinely together; surrealy at the same time.



It occur again when we fought a crop without any depth, face-to-face. But our eyes were closed by the absence of light, while I imagined the scene that had we just experienced; a delight concrete and traveler, real and fascinating. Sex pure, wild and without equal. A night full of life. A volcanic life by another night with her.



But that night no magic ended as begun. There was a break. Single. Brutal. Grave. Loud. Discusting. Unforgettable. Unfortunately. It was when I wanted to be inside her body again, boiling with that steaming flame, wanting to feel it at least one more time, we had already reached the orgasm each for once, with once more at the same time, we would reach three. I lost my mind. I just went a little left to put another condom because I knew that we'd cum for the third time. I mean, if only for a second, the third time would take me out of the world. And then the member would lose the will, in the third time I woul remember what is happiness. Not only was that a journey of my insane mind, the third time I know what nirvana would be. Not that lasted for a little heavenly journey, the third time I would make a star journey, and back consumed of vital energy. But moments before the final ejaculation, almost at the time of orgasm masterly - which would again of both concurrently - happened suddenly and surprisingly the moment ultra-shockig: a roar of a bad animal, a fully bizarre noise. Fact: someone had just come into our nest of pure and wild love.



We freezed. "Put a flash light there," I said. It was the first and only photo she took at that time of such sexual intensity. "Oops, burned a picture!", She exclaimed to show me the screen of the digital camera that showed a strange orange flame in place of the face of such intruder. "But this is digital, not a film!"-- Whispered it to my ear, shaking up. "Display at once, now, without mule-head!", screamed I bravely to the darkness, demonstrating maleness front of the female in that lights out enviroment.


After brief silence, a voice that arises there was so hysterical coming from the person who invaded our wilderness and dark sacred enclosure of raw and voracious love . The major is go closer and to yelling direct to us on our skin naked, were triggered one thousand little spits: _ Oops! Excuse me, ok? Listen ... For God sake, wouldyou lend me thirty bucks? I will pay you next Tuesday - was the triumphal entry of Hunteco Farinatti, the "Teets", the great dandy of the rocker scene.



"Son of a beach!" I punched him hardly. Or rather, out there in a ballad because I went upstairs a ladder angry and naked behind the rat bastard running desperate with his bleeding nose.



Contained by Black Junior, nor had conditions to claim him for having left the unfortunate Beast that invaded my sublime moment of love. "Who does not have underware has no morals." He shut me the mouth. So I leave him with total reason and went back down there in the midst of laughter from all around there.



Carol had left.



In the days following I tried all hotels in the region. She was gone. Neither smell. Never more I saw her. And she never updated the Photolog. Messages from orphans fans poped-up at the box comments. They say that she moved to France.



I also never spoke to the old Teets, por supuesto.



From Caroline, I just left scented not visual, but tactile memories. I have thoughs in clear nights about that deliciously dark night. And without the right to plead a repetition in future.



Oh, I can not stop to fucking hate you because of this, uncle Farinas.



Où que tu sois, je t'aime, Carol Fontaine. Pour toujours, ma petite fleur inoubliable.