He went back to his meditations. - And? - And what? - And what do you want to tell me? Or what exactly are you thinking about? - I will never get fucked! I whispered in his ear: - Never say never, my Karim, I think I've already told you that. In any case, it's up to you to decide... - Fortunately. And hop! Pensive again... - And? - But what else? - You want to know if I've ever gotten fucked, is that it? - Yes, I was thinking about that, it's true... I lied to him brazenly. But could I have done otherwise... - No, never. As if reassured, he almost came to beg for a kiss, a kiss that I would call loving before telling me: - We're both the same, you see! Karim had always been a lively and energetic young man, but today, something in him had changed. As he now stood before me, out of the water, still naked, I couldn't help but notice the subtle but striking transformation that had taken place in him since we had last met. It was as if the young boy I had known had suddenly metamorphosed into a man, a man with a new confidence and a certain maturity in his gaze. He stood straighter, his shoulders slightly back, his chin raised, as if he now carried within him an inner strength that he had not had before. There was a new serenity in his gestures, a calm that I had never perceived in him, even in the most ordinary moments. His voice, once full of youth and fire, had become more composed, more serious, as if what he had experienced had anchored him more in the adult world. Karim now spoke with a confidence that I had never known him to have, while displaying a slightly detached, almost nonchalant attitude that betrayed a new awareness of his own masculinity. It was as if he had suddenly realized the full extent of his power, of the effect he could have on others, and was secretly enjoying it, with controlled discretion. I also noticed his gestures: broader, more assured, as if he was finally fully occupying the space around him. He crossed his arms over his chest with a quiet ease, his penis proudly exposed, moved with a new, almost feline fluidity, which revealed a confidence in his own body, a confidence that had not been there before.There was also this sparkle in his eyes, this mixture of pride and satisfaction, as if he had just reached a crucial stage in his life. The smile he wore was no longer just that of a boy happy with life, but that of a man who had tasted a new pleasure, a new dimension of his existence. A kind of serenity now emanated from him, the one born from the certainty of having conquered something essential. Karim was still Karim, my young friend, but on this day, he had become more than that. He had crossed an invisible threshold, and it shone through every fiber of his being. He stood before me, at once the same and yet completely different, as if the passage from childhood to adulthood had taken place in an instant, by this simple initiation rite. - Okay. Shall we go? - If you want, I answered him as I got dressed. Then we reached the Ural where I sat in the sidecar. He looked at him puzzled. -But you don't drive? -No, since you assure me that you are a man today. So you can ride my sidecar like a man! A silence followed my words. He remained frozen for a moment, blinking as if to make sure he had understood what I had just said. Then, slowly, a broad smile appeared on his face. I could see the pride swelling in him, the feeling of having been recognized, accepted in this new role that he was forging for himself. He then advanced confidently towards the motorcycle, a spark of determination in his eyes. He climbed onto the saddle with the grace of a feline, his movements now fluid and assured. His hands rested on the handlebars, firm but relaxed, as if they had always been there. In an instant, he had taken control, like a man fully assuming his responsibilities. I saw him take one last look in my direction, a look full of recognition and defiance at once. Then, without another word, he started the engine with a deep, powerful roar. Karim was ready. The big teenager I had known was fading away for good, making way for the man who was now taking the controls. The approach to the small douar was made with the familiar roar of the Ural's engine, resonating through the narrow, dusty streets. Each village has its own distinctive sounds, and that of this motorcycle, usually associated with my own presence, did not go unnoticed. As we got closer to Karim's house, I could feel his growing excitement through the subtle tension in his shoulders and the way his hands gripped the handlebars.When we finally reached the house, Karim slowed the sidecar down before gently stopping it in front of the small wooden door. He straightened up on the saddle, displaying a palpable pride, like a king on his throne. The next moment, the door burst open, and Younes burst out, drawn by the unmistakable sound of the motorcycle. “Karim!” he exclaimed, his voice incredulous but surprised. He stopped short, his eyes widening in shock as he discovered his big brother sitting in the driver’s seat, his face lit up with a mixture of satisfaction and confidence. Youssef blinked, as if to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, then let out a broad smile. His gaze traveled between Karim, proud and imposing on the motorcycle, and me, comfortably seated in the basket, as if the world had just tilted on its axis. I had never seen Younes like this. He approached the bike slowly, hesitating, as if he didn’t dare believe this scene. “You were the one driving the whole time?” he asked, his voice tinged with respectful disbelief. Karim nodded, a smile stretching his lips, proud as a pope. “Yes, little brother.” Myself, his tone brimming with a newfound confidence. There was no doubt, in that moment, Karim embodied everything his brother aspired to be. Younes began to circle the bike, admiring it from every angle, as if it were a precious trophy. I got off the sidecar, feeling the warm ground beneath my feet, and watched the scene with an amused smile. It was a simple moment, but one loaded with meaning for these two brothers. Younes, whose eyes were shining with admiration, kept staring at his big brother Karim, the image of the latter on the motorbike forever etched in his memory. Karim, for his part, revelled in this new aura of respect. He finally got off the motorbike with studied nonchalance, sliding an affectionate hand on his brother's shoulder before throwing him the keys. Little Ahmed caught them in mid-air, his eyes filled with dreams. It was as if, in the space of a simple ride, Karim had passed on to his brother not only mastery of the motorbike, but also a little of the newfound confidence that now characterized him. The warmth inside Daoud's little house contrasted with the fresh air outside, and the heady smell of mint tea perfumed the room. We were all seated around a low table, on which sat an enormous, boiling teapot and a profusion of small dry biscuits. The flickering flames of the oil lamp cast dancing shadows on the walls, creating an intimate and hushed atmosphere.Karim, still vibrating from his experience, was inexhaustible. He recounted his first real experience of autonomous driving with overflowing enthusiasm, his words flowing like a torrent. His hands accompanied his words, miming the gestures he had made to maneuver the moto ...

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