Rosanna fell in love.
By day, she meets Nelson at the mall and by night, they meet at the "disco." Sometimes, she brings him back to her apartment or goes with him for a drive, and when the night catches up with them, they stay at motels, where she discovers new aspects of sexual passion.
After several months of relationship, she misses him, since more than a week has gone by without him calling her. At her office, and during a break, she reviewed the numbers that are stored in her cell phone, from calls that she received from him. She unsuccessfully tries one number after another, and she loses hope. She longs to hear his manly voice, to see his bright face, to feel his body against hers, especially, his penis. She finally learned how to deep-throat him and to even take him through her anus, getting drenched with his warm semen in all her holes and on her face, teats and belly. The hours go by and her work claims her attention.
Shortly before closing, she dialed more numbers, using the speakerphone on her desk to free her hands for filing papers and turning off her computer. Finally, a number answers, but not the kind that she expected, much less, the one for which she yearned. A feminine voice answers:
"Rodriguez Residence. No, Nelson is not home..."
Along with the woman's voice, another can be heard mumbling:
"Who was it?"
But the lie gets out in the open, since she learned to recognize his tone of voice through the deafening sound inside the disco. Other employees, on the way out, hear the conversation and make comments, speculating about the meaning of the words. Some come to recognize the name:
"Nelson Rodriguez, of Data-AQ'?"
Asks a junior manager, to which a woman responds:
"Yes, I know who he is, but, sweetie, that guy is already married!"
Rosanna, startled, switched off the speaker and hung up, and horrified and embarrassed, rushed out, forcing her way among her colleagues, barely whispering:
"Excuse me!"
She took an elevator, and before the other people got to it, she punched the button for the parking level, and the door closed, leaving the others out. Her eyes already burned, her breathing became ragged and her knees grew weak, so she gave in to tears.
But she was not alone. Victor, an employee from another department, who rode from the upper floors, watched her puzzled about what was going on. She staggered when the elevator stopped, but the young man didn't dare approach her. When the door opened, she hung on to the handrail to regain her balance, while she reproached him:
"You Coward! Why didn't you help me?"
"I'm sorry, I didn't know how to approach you."
"Can't you see that I'm in trouble?"
"Forgive me; it's just that, locked inside the elevator, I thought that, in your situation, you would have thought that I was going to rape you."
His sincere tone, almost on the verge of tears, convinced her. But her mind was still clouded, and when she saw the other employees arriving in the second elevator, she went hiding behind a pillar. They noticed her anyway, and although they tried to act casual, they still whispered and she became enraged again. Victor stepped in front of her, and blocked her gaze. Then, he extended his arm, to lean against the column and only then, she embraced him so he could comfort her. She murmured, almost beside herself:
