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Facing her, I stick my hands in my pockets and wait. And wait. And wait. And I smile even if it’s not funny.I move my head up and down before saying goodbye.
“Good night, Antonella.”
“You suck at this,” she says, interrupting my walk after just two steps. “I know what you’re doing, and you’re really bad at it.” It’s stronger than me, and even though I know I shouldn’t, I turn around, staring at her upright shoulders and her scandalous gaze.
“And what would that be?”
“Pretend you don’t care…” Slowly lowers her head with a bitter laugh. I laugh too, disliking it as she is. But only until her words settle in my mind. My cheeks stretch as my lips return to their normal position. I turn my head slightly, frown, and blink my eyes hard in an attempt to clear my own thoughts.
One after another, the moments when Antonella ran away from me pass before my eyes, behind closed eyelids, and now everything seems so clear, that not for the first time when it comes to my wife, I feel stupid that it took me so long to realize something obvious.
“Marcos?” Antonella’s breath fails as I take a wide step forward, turning the space between us into a thread of distance.I raise my hand and touch her cheek, but the light touch quickly turns into a grab as my fingers slide down her skin and seep between the roots of her hair. “What are you doing?” Swallow dry and the hairs on her arms show goosebumps, oh, wife! You’re acting, aren’t you? I laugh. Damn, that woman!
“Marcos…” Her voice is a whisper now, and if I had any doubts about the conclusion I’d just come to, they’d leap off cliffs this very instant and shatter to the ground far, far below the tops of the buildings.Unable to keep the laughter out of my voice, I sink my nose on Antonella’s neck, inhaling the scent that has become my drug of choice, the only drug I need.
Then, I let my tongue lick its way to her ear, when I finally reach it, I whisper:
“You were faking…” I pause, look at her beautiful face, the mask of indifference finally falls. Slightly wide eyes and completely dilated pupils watch me “this fucking doubt has been tormenting me for weeks…” I bite Antonella’s earlobe and bring my body closer to hers until they not only touch, but press... I don’t shy away from a low laugh and focus my eyes back on hers.
“The Hulk’s secret, Antonella…” I shake my head up and down, agreeing with myself. “His secret is to always be angry... Yours…” I bring our faces closer until the proximity of our lips makes the short distance that separates them unbearable. “Is to always pretending you can keep your distance.” Antonella gasps and shudders, handing me the victory I had already given up on receiving. “All the time…” My voice is low, still so incredulous that it’s unconcerned with announcing its own victory.
“And so you keep me far enough away that I’ll never find out.” Laughter is in my mouth, eyes, voice. “And you’re good, Antonella! You’re great at it” I admit it, because it’s true. “So good, you were able to make me forget that you’re an excellent actress.” Gasps, struck by the words exactly as I thought she would be, her entire body reacts to them and what my discovery means to both of us. “But tell me something, Antonella” warm eyes, half-open lips await the question “does your pussy act too?” My voice is hoarse, completely swallowed by desire now that its satisfaction is imminent.The heat, the smell, the taste of Antonella’s body, so unbearably close, assaults my senses, numbing them with excess. “Or, if I stick my hand in your panties, will I find you dripping with horniness just like I think you are?” She moans. Low. Hot. My heart races in my chest, showing me that I was mistaken. Her smell isn’t the only drug I need.I need her moans too, and if my body’s reaction is any indication, they’re far more lethal to me than just the addiction to her scent. “If I rip off your bra, will I find your nipples hard, begging for my mouth, my tongue, my teeth?” One heartbeat, two, three, that’s all the time I give her. “Oh Antonella...You should have kept this secret to yourself!” These are my last words before plundering her mouth with all the will that exists in the whole world and that still doesn’t seem enough.
My tongue seeps into her warm, wet, delicious mouth, and before I have a chance to do anything, Antonella’s nails are running down the back of my neck, scratching my skin, her body is rubbing against mine, and she’s conquering my mouth with the same intensity with which I take possession of hers.
There’s no air, and I don’t need it.My heart beats at a frantic and inexplicable rhythm. No part of the body should be able to move so fast. — The kiss is long, tasty, intense and tastes of despair and longing. Yes! Longing, I missed that mouth so much, the way Marcos’s kiss seems to tear my body from end to end and, at the same time, submit to me, giving me everything I want, what I need.
We are tongues and hands and arms and legs and skin and sweat and taste and flavor and we are one in a tangle of sounds and limbs until we are no more, because he moves away.
I open my eyes so slowly that I am able to see my eyelashes tremble before my vision fixates on anything around me.My body seems, at the same time, in oxygen withdrawal and with excess of it.My vision is slightly blurred and everything in me reacts to Marcos’ newly imposed distance with an agonizing need to end it.
I don’t need a mirror to know exactly how I look right now, I feel it.My reddish lap, my swollen, wet lips, my flushed cheeks, Marcos seems to drink from this sight.He seems to know exactly what I’m thinking and how desperate I am to be taken by his mouth, his arms, his fingers, but that’s not what he does.
With gasping breath and a slight tremor enveloping his entire body, he speaks.
“I may be an asshole, Antonella, but I never lied to you, never cheated on you, never made you promises I wasn’t willing to keep, or acted on anything that wasn’t my intention.” He drags his hands through his hair, he seems as taken by surprise by his own words, by his own attitude, as I am. It’s like he doesn’t believe in what he’s doing, even if he is. “And I’m tired of always being me asking, waiting, discovering, exposing myself...” He looks away. Turning his head to the side only for three seconds, he presses his lips together, rubs them against each other, and even in my completely affected state and absence of rationality, I can understand what he says, and worse, agree.After a deep exhalation, Marcos speaks again slowly, wanting to ensure that there is no doubt about the meaning of his words. “You’re not a child, you don’t need to be led, you know what you want and you don’t ask permission to take it! That’s the woman you are and that’s the woman I want!When you get tired of pretending, Antonella...You know where to find me.I’ll only walk halfway, the rest is up to you.” And without giving me another second of his attention, he turns, ready to walk away from me.
I swallow dry with a confused mind, totally unable to process the amount of information I need, and yet seeing it clearly.
Alone, standing in the hallway, with my body resting at the door of my room as Marcos walks toward his, leaving me behind.How did it happen? How did I end up faced by Marcos in a situation where I’m the wrong one and not Asshole Marcos? Damn! Unbelievable.
The rapid rhythm of my heart is physical and indisputable proof that I am not dreaming.I’m awake.Every inch of me is lit and crying out for more. It’s like a drug.Don’t take the first sip.Don’t take the first inhale.Don’t give the first kiss. I gave.
I gave, and fuck! Nothing ever felt as right as Marcos’ tongue in my mouth and nothing ever felt as wrong as the time without it.
His hands roamed over my body as if they had a map of it, as if they were his map and I’m still a molten puddle that can’t even move.
One breath.
Two breaths.
Three breaths.
“Marcos!” I call his name and he turns around immediately. His eyes are like flames licking my skin and heating up to the most hidden inch of it, incinerating my judgment and the ability to think beyond this uncontrollable need that runs through me in my pure racing heart and breathlessness.
There’s nothing in my head but desire.Hot, boiling, suffocating and desperate. The one I’ve been locking up for the past few weeks.All of it.Not a drop is missing and it looks like if I don’t give in I’m going to go crazy, but Marcos doesn’t care about my sanity.He turned around, but he’s still standing in the same place.His eyes are fixed on me, and he makes no move towards me.
“Halfway, Antonella,” he repeats his last words, and suddenly I’m a magnet practically flying in the direction of its opposite pole. I see myself walking, putting one foot in front of the other as if I had no option but that, as if standing still hurts me, exhausted me.
