Silence cut through the room as I kept my back at Juan Diego. If I looked at him, I knew that he would pull me in with those dark alluring eyes of his. At all cost, I had to keep myself away from him. Still, I could hear his steady breathing as I kept my gaze out the window.
There was no other choice but to leave. If I stayed, then I ran the risk of something happening. Something that I knew I would come to deeply regret. As I shook the voice that scolded me for coming here away from my thoughts, I tore myself away from the window. Not looking up at him, I quickly walked past him as I clutched my hands to restrain myself from reaching out to touch him.
"Please," Juan Diego pleaded in a low voice only for me to hear as he tried to stop me from leaving, "Por favor, no me sales."
His succulent Spanish accent made it barely audible, but his plea stopped me from leaving. In great reluctance, with him still holding onto my warm hands, I said, "No. I can't. I must go."
"¿Por qué?" His dark mysterious eyes beckoned for me to near him once more as he lightly squeezed my hands. The way Juan Diego accent rolled off his tongue evoked a tingling sensation all over my body. A jolt of electricity ran through me as the pleasurable feelings spread from the tips of my nipples all the way to the hidden treasures between my legs. How I wished Juan would talk to me some more. And he did. "DÃgame. Tell me why you must go. You just got here a few moments ago."
"Because," I said, lowering my pained eyes away from him. "There's something that I didn't tell you before."
"What? Don't worry. I won't be upset with you. You're so beautiful and all I ever want to do in my life is to give you the entire world. Name it and it's yours."
Before any explanation came from my mouth, I tried to find the right words to say so I would not spoil the moment. The truth rested on the tip of my tongue but no matter what I tried to do, it would not come.
Finally, without any reservation, I uttered, "I'm married. I must go or my husband will know that I'm away from my room. If he finds out that I'm not there, he'll be furious. And you don't know what it's like to be with…."
Not bearing to watch the hurt reveal itself over his face, my eyes continued to watch the tiny white feather rest upon the wood floor by his foot. Thoughts of my husband making his way into our hotel room across town, only to find that I was not there made me shudder. In a matter of seconds, he would have the entire city on alert until he found me.
"Shhhh." Juan lifted my face and then, placed his finger against my soft lips. There his finger lingered for a moment and then he gazed into my eyes, only to draw me closer towards him. "Don't be scared. Your husband will never know."
"I'm not scared of my husband," I said as I drew in closer towards Juan's luscious, kissable lips that screamed of nothing, but pure raw passion.
"What are you scared of?"
The question was sincere and whatever my reply was, Juan was going to be there for me. His strong arms wrapped around me as if he were shielding me from the world.
My answer did not come right away. Instead, I tried to break myself from Juan Diego's grasp, but the attempt was futile. There was something powerful about him and I knew that if I did not walk away now, then it would be impossible to do later.
"I've never had an affair."
A reassuring smile spread across his face as he brought me closer to feel his beating heart. It was a signal to me that he was just as scared of doing this as I was. "Neither have I, but when I saw you this afternoon at the market, I knew I had to have you. For years I have lived here in Barcelona, but never has a woman stolen my heart away like you have. Do you believe in love at first sight?"
"Yes." I said, remembering that Juan made me feel the same way when I first saw him.
"Then you know what I'm talking about. When you saw your husband, do you remember the feelings that stirred inside of your soul?"
"Yes, but..."
"That's the way it was for me when I saw you."
"Let me finish," I said, my heart racing, "I've never felt like that when I saw my husband for the first time. We were forced together by my parents. They felt that these odd feelings that I felt for a woman would be 'changed' if I had a taste of a man, and they were wrong. I've never loved my husband. My entire marriage is just for show. The only man I loved was killed in a bank robbery when I was younger and since his death, I've just numbed myself to any sort of affectionate emotion. For years, I've always wondered if I would ever love again or if I would ever know what love felt like. My husband brought me to Spain to see if we could fix our failing marriage."
"I see." Juan scrunched his face in apparent confusion as he moved his hands up to my face. It was obvious he was trying to find a way to take this experience from me. For it to no longer exist in the depths of my heart. Juan wanted to make me whole again, which made me feel good.
My hands reached down to trace the contours of his face. So rigid, with a lot of history etched into the groove lines across his forehead. The way his gaze always managed to keep my interest in him that much longer. I said, still tracing my finger past the stubble on his chin down towards the bump in the center of his throat. "That moment when I first saw you, that very feeling that I had buried in me so long sprung back to life. I never thought I'd feel that way ever again."
"Is that why you agreed to meet me here? Because you finally felt love?"
"That's part of it."
"I don't understand. If you've never had an affair with your husband, then why did you agree to meet me here? You could have told me no and I would have understood."
"I came here to thank you for what you have done for me. For awakening what had been dormant for so long. That is something that requires a big commandment. And it's my personality to thank people when I think a thank-you is necessary. I didn't want to say thank-you in the middle of the market because you would have thought it to be odd. So, I thought I would come meet you here so I could explain."
Juan Diego said with a light chuckle, "Well, I'm the same way. You've said your thank-you. Now it's my turn to say muchas gracias my way."
Without warning, Juan leaned into me and pressed his plush lips against mine. Instead of pushing him away, I embraced the kiss. The fires that were once smudged out regained its full flame and raged inside of me. All the thoughts of my being late and my husband being furious at me for not being in my room evaporated into the thick air of passion.
"This is too much." I said, moaning in utter delight from the succulent kisses only to withdraw for a moment. The heat was too much and the sweat seeped from my creamy flesh. In resistance, I turned my back to Juan once more and said, "I don't know if I can do this."
"Don't hold back." He said, unfastening the tiny buttons in the back of my dress. In a slow, seductive way, I peeled off the material that stood between our bodies. The dress slipped down the length of my voluptuous figure. The thin cotton material graced past my swollen breasts, the dip in my waist, only to give way to hips that flared out.
"Embrace it all. Absorb the thank-you. It's the only way for it to have any real meaning."
Never before had I shared myself this way with another man. My husband was all I had ever known. For years, my husband's touch left me cold and sex was always something I did because her husband demanded it. All he ever did was have me lay down with my dress pulled up around my waist and he would make a couple of quick shoves with his hard cock inside of me. After the sex was over, he would zip up his pants and leave the room.
"This is to much for me to handle." I said, trying to follow Juan's lead, but my hands wanted to conceal my nudity.
"I've just begun." Juan said, tracing my back with a subtle touch of his fingertips. He outlined the round mound of my shoulder, trailing his fingers over my shoulder blades only to venture down the length of my spine. "I want you to touch yourself."
"What?" I asked, relishing the reassuring feel of his touch. "I've never…"
In a throaty voice, Juan ordered as he nuzzled his nose against the slope of my ear. "Touch your neck."
Slowly, I brought my hands to my neck and kept them there. The light laughter echoed in my ears as Juan offered his assistance. Like a person in the lost in the dark, Juan guided me though. His hands trailed down the center of my chest, but he did not allow me to touch my breasts. As much as I wanted to relieve the throbbing sensation in my nipples, I could not. Every inch of my flesh begged to be touched or to at least have his fingertips graze past it.
With my hands sandwiched between Juan's hands and my sweaty skin, I continued to follow his lead. Even though I have been living with this body for thirty years, it still felt so strange to touch myself in such a sensual way. There were parts that I had yet to discover. Each time I would try to see what it would be like to feel with the mere grace of my fingers against the surface of my skin, I stopped. It felt as if what I was doing was wrong and I needed to stop. It was not fair that my lover was gunned down in front of her and was forced to leave this place. I was able to feel, while my lover lies in the cold ground.
Juan brought his palms over my stomach and down towards my hips, only to return to the subtle dip in my neck. The touch lingered as the warm air of his breath swirled around my ears, brushing past my cheek. My head rolled back onto his shoulder and I cried out. "It feels so good."
Juan led me to the spot between my legs where my husband just shoved his hard cock inside. After the first few times of rough sex with my husband, I became soured by the entire concept of ever going to the area between my legs. Sometimes I would try to envision my deceased lover in hopes of opening up, but the sour smell of ale and sweat that clung to my husband filled my nose, left me feeling repulsed. The constant battle to keep my stomach from turning sour overshadowed any possibility of pleasure.
The hesitation was apparent and Juan waited until I relaxed again. While one hand patiently waited to venture into new places, he navigated the other one back to my neck. Juan traced my plush ruby lips with his finger and teased my tongue out from its hidden world. Only to have both of his hands simultaneously dip his fingers inside of my mouth and break past the inner folds of my pussy.
Upon the first touch, the numbness was still there. Nothing but anger and resentment came to me. I closed my eyes in attempt to block out the cold images of my husband and my former lover lying in a pool of his own blood. The more I fought it, the more the thoughts came. Not wanting to end Juan's way of saying 'thank-you', my body went with the flow and tried to embrace the little that I could feel from the mere touch of Juan Diego's body against mine.
My tongue rolled over Juan's fingers as the private dance continued between my legs. The bitter frost gave way to the warmth of the spring. Everything inside me came alive. For the first time in my life, I felt what pleasure was like. The spark that ignited between us melted the walls of ice inside of me. The layers of hurt and deadness peeled away, leaving me totally exposed.
The need for Juan to quench the growing hunger in me intensified. If only I had the words or the experience to tell Juan that I needed more.
Reaching into the long list of words to try to express my need, I found myself at a loss. How could this happen? I went to the best private school in the country when I was younger. My professors made everyone learn the entire dictionary, but despite the extended vocabulary I lacked the words to express the burning desire inside of me. To convey that there was something within myself that hung in a delicate balance.
The unspoken words hung in the air and by her actions alone, Juan grabbed me by my hips and plunged his fingers inside of my receptive body. My hands flew to the wall next to the window to absorb the sudden invasion. Tiny cries of pleasure came from my throat as Juan thrust his fingers in and out of my quivering pussy. Tears rolled down my flushed face as I tried to hold on. The rhythmic throbbing of the walls of my pussy clamored for more and Juan fumbled around with his zipper to release his own hardness from the confines of his pants. The moment his hardness was released, he plunged himself deep within the caves of my loins. Everything happened so quickly that I could not believe that Juan and I were one being for this moment in time. The mere feeling of his firm body pressed against mine was so reassuring.
Through hazy vision, my eyes fluttered open and I saw my husband walking down the street with a bundle of bright yellow flowers. Once more I stiffened and shied away from Juan's touches.
"What's wrong?" He asked, holding me against the wall so I could not escape his grasp. Secretly, I was grateful for this because I loved the feeling that surged through my body.
"Nothing." I said, trying to get him to ease up on me. This needed to end the moment I saw my husband across the way. Here I was unfaithful while my husband was on his way back to the room with a bouquet of flowers. Guilt overcame me and being with Juan was no longer fun. "It's just that I need to…"
"You see your husband?" Juan eased up on his strokes, but still remained inside of me. "The guy with the flowers?"
"How did you know?" My husband stopped on the street corner and waited. What he was waiting for, I didn't have the slightest idea because I should have been back at the hotel waiting for him.
"That's when your demeanor changed. I want you to keep your eyes focused on your husband as I do this to you. Every stroke I make, I want you to tell me that you want me. Look at him as I make love to your delicious body and after all is said and done, then I want you to think long and hard about going back to him. When I told you that whatever you want, I'd do it for you, I meant it. Stay in Barcelona and I'll show you things that your husband could never show you."
"I don't…" My words fell flat and I could not finish them because Juan increased the intensity of his strokes. Together we climbed the ladder of the pleasure of saying thank-you. As I peaked, my screams become intensified that it was almost deafening. Not that it bothered Juan, but it fueled his desire to continue. As I reached the highest peak of my orgasm, Juan did not relent and forced me to release all that had been hidden inside of me.
"Now." Juan said with a laugh as the sweat rolled down his body. "That's how you say muchas gracias in my country."
I accepted the thank-you. When I looked out the window, my husband was gone. "Where did he go?"
"You shouldn't ask where he went, you should focus on what you want to do. Do you want to stick around a little while longer and see what people in my country do when they love someone with all of their hearts?"
A part of me hesitated and I knew that there would never be any love between my husband and I. This trip proved that because instead of waiting for him at the hotel room, I was with Juan. Against my better judgment, I said with a sinister laugh, "Show me what people do in your country when they love someone con todo their hearts?"
A wry smile came across his lips and he guided me towards the plush hotel bed. I followed his lead as he lowered me down onto the bed, spread my legs, and lowered his face.
This was a new thing for me and in fascination, I watched him smooth the surface of his tongue against the length of the very private place of my femininity. The pleasurable feeling sent me reeling; my eyes fell shut as I embraced his way of telling me that he loved me more than anything in the entire universe.
