Everyone knows that love is the universal language par excellence. That attraction doesn’t need much explaining. They sometimes, luckily, no words are needed. And that is exactly what happened to me on my last trip to Berlin. What an exciting experience! Truly, it’s a miracle they didn’t award me German nationality.
In a nutshell, because I’m rushing at the keyboard. I made a date to Skype with her in a couple of hours. Let’s see how we manage, because I don’t speak a word of German and she doesn’t speak any Spanish, either. In English? We’ll do what we can. To see each other as fairly well-behaved and civilised, although actually we’re lacking a bit in that area. Because we got a wild thing happening… Animalistic. It’s beyond reason. (Sorry if I’m being too intense due to my emotions but – I’ll say it again – I’m very excited. It’s been just a week since I came back from Berlin and not just my head is still there, but also other parts of my body.)
It was totally by chance. But it’s chance that leads human beings to happiness. Right? Think about how your great-grandparents met, and then your grandparents, your parents… How all those circumstances – almost like miracle – took place so that you are now reading the nonsense that I’m writing here. (Now that’s definitely chance and luck, thank you so much for being there!).
To the point. Madrid. Barajas Terminal 1. My flight to Berlin is delayed. Damn. I whatsapp my friends waiting for me there. Guys, things are going to take a while. Go ahead and eat lunch without me. After a while, more of the same. Hey, this thing isn’t going to take off. The clouds are on strike or who knows what they’re saying over the loudspeakers. Go ahead and eat dinner without me. The same thing all day long and well into the night. Dear All, Sleep well. Tomorrow when you get up, shower, and eat breakfast, I hope to be there. Nothing new under the sun. Airport stuff.
Between one thing and another, the damn flight left extremely late. I got to Berlin at four something in the morning. Too late to let my friends know; they’re already have been asleep. That is, if they hadn’t out of town or the country, because they’d certainly had enough time. Anyway. And I still had to wait for the suitcase I’d checked, because I’d brought some food for my friends (the little angels hadn’t tasted Serrano ham for like a century) and also Tokkets (my poor dears, they hadn’t had decent sex for centuries and centuries, either). You really have to keep it all covered.
Well, no sign of my bag. Gone into thin air. It just didn’t show up! The conveyor belt kept going round and round, each time with less stuff, until a man with a moustache showed up and grabbed something that was – by its shape – either a violin or a leg of lamb. Great. So now what. No bag, no presents for my friends and – most especially – no clean underwear to change into. With how fastidious I am (anyone who’s had sex with me knows what I mean). Oh, well. I head over to the counter. Doing the best I can with my secondary-school English. Or worse; since I haven’t used it, I’ve forgotten the little I knew. Any little kid can speak better than me. “My tailor is rich.” “Sorry for my English.” Pitiful. Good thing I could remember some words from Beatles’ songs; they were perfect for my situation. “Please, please me”, “Help”, “All you need is love”. All that.
And by the time it was my turn, oh my. Turns out the Customer Service girl was the woman of my life. I saw it in her eyes. And also in her wings, because she was a white-winged angel behind a counter. I wasn’t sure anymore if I was at Customer Service or the doors to paradise with her standing in for Saint Peter who was maybe on leave. But what a shame, because there was a problem, and a big one: the girl’s English was no better than mine; something like the stuff footballers mumble in Christmas videos for the international market. Can you believe it? The question is how the woman of my dreams managed to get a job in Customer Service at the airport in Berlin without knowing hardly any English. Smart chick. Total respect. My little angel was a devil in disguise. And that – why would I lie – gets me going even more.
But I digress. I came to write about my sexual experience. Since we could see that talking wasn’t getting us anywhere, the devil-angel and myself started to gesticulate at each other. And when that happens, you know what’s next. It’s either going to very good or very bad. In our case, laughter. Connection. Making eyes. And since we lacked words, we focused on acts. They say that flies can’t get into a closed mouth, so I got real close to hers and I focused on covering her mouth with mine so that no flies could get in anywhere. A rush of emotions revolutionised the upper part of my stomach. My heart pounded in my chest.
And when the rest of the organs in my body stopped shouting at my brain, it said to me – in a brief moment of lucidity – that the girl wasn’t being very professional. That’s what she did at work? Would she give the same warm treatment that she gave to me to all the passengers who don’t speak German?
Who care, I told my brain so it would shut up; I’m not squeamish! The girl, like me, was already sizzling hot, a volcano just waiting to blow. There was no sign of the angel or its white wings. And I, – luckily, as always – had some Tokkets in the pocket of my jeans, because I’m always ready (and squeaky clean) everywhere I go. The way it should be. Like a gentleman.
No words. Some moans. Panting, when we finished. Sighs when I left her with a kiss, promising (using silly gestures) that I’d call her. The girl couldn’t say a word to me about my suitcase. But her super-sexy attitude helped her teach me a whole lot more valuable stuff. The truth is that when the pleasure is genuine, no words are needed.
What about you? Have you had experiences with foreigners who didn’t speak your tongue? What’s really important to you about their tongue, though, is that it’s nice and moist, right? Have there been times when your body has spoken for you? Did you like it, or would you rather have sex with someone who speaks English?