An elderly woman falls in love with a young man while being in his housework.This began with a history of sex, but finally fell in love.
Chapter 1 My heart against my reason
*** Jamal Steve Ake ***
I look at my reflection in the mirror of the bathroom and I like what I see. A clean and beautiful complexion of the black chocolate human, which melts all the women on my passage, a haircut like like I like a beard that eats me the cheek. I love my beard, it's my seduction weapon. From the top of my 1,78m I must confess that I am pretty handsome. Yes I'm not afraid to say it but it is without pride of course. I am part of these guys who love and who do not neglect are. In life you have to love it because if you do not like yourself who will do it? Even if you find that you holes like your cockhole and go ahead. You will see that people will see what you do not see. I love life and I mill to their soft teeth. I am young, beautiful, not super rich but accounts in well-garristed bank and full pockets. I am my own boss and I use more than 30 people asking for more in life. Love? No Way. This word no longer exists in my dictionary. I had the torn and burned it. I even used the fire that consumed it to turn on a cigarette that I smoked by looking at her disappeared. I apply my products for the care of my hair and my beard then the combs. I go out of it and puts my torn torn at the thighs as the most part of my jeans from elsewhere. I wear my jeans so that I'm seeing the elastic of my boxer. I'm sure I'm shutting up on my t-shirt and my Timberlandes. I look at the big mirror of my room and perfect is perfect. Ah I was forgetting, my diamond loops. Good this time it's good. I take my two phones, the Galaxie brand of business and personal iPhone. I'm going to the living room where I get the breakfast that I have prepared prepared and put in a tupperware. I then retrieve my cigarette package and puts it in my mouth without turning on it. Arrived in front of a studio on the ground floor I strike two shots on the door. Without asking that's the old man opens my door.
Me (incoming): So the shape?
You (closing the door): You were waiting for me to see me already dead I guess.
Me: even if you do not believe it I want to old man. Now come to sit down to take your little gaze. I have to go.
Ours (coming to sit): You I guess you did not take breakfast because (appointing my cigarette) from this slutter? Instead, take away your mouth. I already told you not to smoke in my house. He draws me the cigarette of the mouth, the breaks and throws him to the trash. I smile and put me unpacking breakfast.
Me: I did not even turn on it.
Ous: It's the same one. He sits and start to eat.
Me: Do you need something tonight?
Ous: No. Thank you for everything.
Me: stop with that. Good at tonight.
Ous: Allah Lôgi Diya (God bless your activities).
Me: Amine.
Ousmane or Ous like I call it is an old solitary man. He has no family, no woman or children even less brothers and sisters. It never almost never comes from his studio, it is even to the bakery of the neighborhood we met. He had been buying bread and me without knowing he lived the same building as I bought her breads and he stopped blessing me. I do that often not to be well view but just because it makes me happy to give. I was walking behind him to return to my app when I saw it in. So I was unwiting the steps to join him and that's where we have sympathized and then one thing that leads another we have become as father and son. I bridged him the little yard every morning and brings him dinner at night. For lunch or I give him to deliver to eat or he warm the dish that I covered the day before. He tells me that I am not obliged to do all that but I do not mind. My father could not enjoy my first success because dead then I was still student, so I took as my father and he is enjoying my money with my mother and my sisters. He never talks about him because every time he tries to make her sadness invaded him so I decided to ask him for a question. I am resuscured until the parking of the building and climbs in my bentley. This car I love her, it's my baby. The day André Dasylva called me to inform me of his exit and that I saw his wife rolling one, I bought it without thinking and now she is my half. I like cars but I have not yet the wealth of the Dasylva to make a collection but one day it will come. I connect my USB key in the player and music of the music to well begin my day. I station in front of my box 'Jas Club' '. Another of my babies, my nightclub. My pride. You can not know how I stuck to have it and today when I think we're proud of me. Why did I decide to be properly from a nightclub? First, because I like having fun. Then because life has not given me other choices.
Mathilde: Hello Jamal.
Me: Hello Mati. Sleep well?
Mathilde: Yes and you?
Me: good. The team this morning is there?
Mathilde: Not quite. The restarter and the barman remains.
Me: So the team this morning has not arrived yet since they are the ones who service the service with a waitress. Good ok I'm in my office.
Mathilde (hutting her arm): Jamal wait. I already know that she wants to address the subject that gets angry when she calls with a soft voice.
Me: MATI I told you that I do not want that here. I do not mid pleasure and work moving something else. I'm up.
Mathilde, beautiful young girl with whom I got up and dreaming to have a real relationship with me, I was clear with her from the beginning. I do not want any inner relationship even less serious, just ass off and that's all. I only have 27 years old and I do not want to die from grief so better
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