I cringe inwardly because I hate that I have to reveal that nature of my marriage to my date. It makes me wish I was already divorced as if it somehow tarnishes the beauty of a new relationship, but if I want honesty, I have to be honest in return. So I am.
“He cheated throughout our relationship, and this last time I found out he was keeping a mistress for the last year, so I kicked him out.” That’s seriously paraphrasing it, but it paints the picture well enough.
“Is he trying to get back with you at all?”
“No.” A month ago, hell, a week ago, I would have been lamenting about my husband’s lack of interest in reconciling, because who the hell wants their entire life turned upside down? But since Alejandro entered the picture, I feel this insane light inside of me that eclipses all the darkness.
“What if he did? What would you do?”
I look off to a TV mounted over the bar and consider it for the barest moment. When the words come tumbling out without much thinking at all, and I’m surprised by how true they are. “It wouldn’t matter if he wanted to. He’s hurt me too much, and I’m done. I just want to be happy, and he’s never going to make me happy, and frankly, I deserve better.”
I meet his eyes, and for a moment, we just stare at one another. Then, as if satisfied with my answer, he nods. “Yeah, you do.”
We move on to lighter topics. I ask him about his work, his aspirations, and he reveals that he’d like to own his own business one day. I encourage it. Looking at Alejandro, I can see the man he is now and the man he has the potential to become. Give him a few years, and he’ll be right where he wants to be. Alejandro just has that something, a natural charisma and strength of character that radiates from within him. Whatever he sets his mind to, I bet he’ll achieve it.
I learned he is here on a Visa via our texts, and he tells me now that he’s been here for just a few short years. Already he’s seen more of the country than I ever will. To me, he’s fearless in a way that one day I hope to be. I admire that so much.
He mentions that a few of his friends slash coworkers are here on Visa as well, and I am compelled to ask, “Have any of them ever tried to get married to get citizenship?”
He nods, eyebrows raised. “Some, yes. They pay a lot for it.”
“What about you? Have you ever considered it?”
He chuckles, shaking his head as he stares down at his beer. “I’d rather get on the first plane out of the country before I get married.”
“So you’re not looking for that kind of commitment?”
“I’m not against marriage, but I’m not looking for it either.”
It’s a good answer, as far as I’m concerned. One that I can understand and relate to, as someone who married out of obligation and circumstance instead of purely for love. It’s a mistake I’ll never make again.
Noticing the tattoo I gifted myself for my birthday, an adventure of sorts of my own after the split, he grabs hold of my wrist and turns it, inspecting the details of the little flowers and the script from my favorite Black Veil Brides song. Alejandro has already expressed that he finds tattoos incredibly sexy on a woman, which makes me want to get a few more, especially seeing that look in his eye now. It reminds me of something he said when he first saw the tattoo in a picture I’d sent him: You have to be mine.
It seems he’s gotten his wish because I can’t see anything or anyone beyond him right now.
“Do you recognize it?” I ask, referring to the lyrics because he enjoys the same type of music I do.
“Yep.” He releases my wrist, and I mourn the loss of contact instantly. “I thought of getting one too.”
“Oh yeah? Of what?”
“My son’s name.” He touches his forearm, indicating where it would go.
My imagination takes the wheel, and I picture going with him, watching him get it done. There’s nothing I find sexier than a little ink on a man. “Cool.”
Silence settles between us, but it’s the comfortable kind. In it, we just look at each other and smile, our knees touching beneath the counter, and we subconsciously lean in even closer. We’ve been doing that a lot—mirroring each other—getting closer and closer, inch by inch. I wonder if he even notices.
I take another sip of my beer, and he finishes his off. Then he leans in all the way, placing his mouth beside my ear and whispers, “I want to bite those lips now.”
My whole body shivers—from his proximity, his voice, the very idea of those lips on mine. I smile in answer, and he takes out his wallet. Once the bill is settled, we head back out into the frigid night, and it hits me all over again.
I’m going to kiss him!
5
Against my better judgment, I’m doing the exact opposite of what Jean told me to do. Which was not to go anywhere alone with Alejandro. The world is a crazy place full of crazy people, and I don’t know him at all, but I feel like I do. I can’t explain it, but from the moment I looked into his eyes, I felt as if I’d known him forever. There’s a comfort there, a place where nerves don’t reside. I’ve never felt that with anyone before, and certainly never this fast.
So I’ve followed him to the hotel where he’s staying. It’s a work thing. He doesn’t actually live here, in my state. Part of my decision to return to his hotel with him is because I want to taste his lips, to go on a little adventure, to push the boundaries of temptation. But also, I have this nagging feeling that I need to steal every moment I can with him because I won’t get many.
It doesn’t even make sense to feel that way, but it’s as if he’s an apparition and I’m going to lose him any moment.
So I’m taking the risk. I have to explore this connection I feel with Alejandro. I want to live a little, enjoy what life has to offer, while I have it in my reach.
Part of the thrill of all of this comes from not knowing him. He’s a virtual stranger, and that excites me. I’d be lying if I said that everything about Alejandro doesn’t excite me. It’s as if God himself took a look at my list of ideal men and created this one just for me.
I pull into a parking spot and take my second deep breath of the night before getting out. Alejandro is already waiting for me, and when I reach him, he takes my hand, leading me inside the hotel with the sure steps of a confident man.
I absolutely love that about him. In certain ways, he’s so sure of himself. Being that he’s younger, I can almost attribute the bits of shyness I’ve glimpsed to that, but in all other ways, he carries himself as a strong, independent man who knows exactly what he wants and aims to get it.
My heart races knowing that I’m what he wants, that he’s set me in his crosshairs.
The hotel isn’t fancy nor expensive, but it’s modern and clean. The room is a reflection of that, and when he unlocks the door, and we step inside, I make a quick visual sweep. There are two queen beds, both unmade, and empty beer cans and wrappers litter the side tables.
“My roommate is out for the night.”
“Roommate?” I ask out of curiosity.
He pushes the door shut behind us and locks it. It doesn’t escape my attention that he placed the Do Not Disturb sign on the handle outside first. “Yep. We work together,” he says as he approaches, and his smile is downright wicked.
I don’t have to guess to know exactly what is on his mind right now. It’s on mine too. But I’m starting to get a touch of cold feet. My brain is working overtime, calculating everything, reminding me that I have three kids at home; it’s their bedtime, and this is the first time in their lives I won’t be there to perform our ritual. This is the first time I’ve been out in nearly two decades, and I’m already preparing to give up the milk for free, and I’m questioning if that’s the wisest choice. Logically, I know this isn’t an interview for a future husband. This is a simple night of getting to know one another, exploring each other and my own limits. This is me experiencing life outside of motherhood and being a wife. This is me—living.
So why am I questioning it?
Alejandro backs me up to the edge of the bed and no farther. I think he’s going to pounce, but he surprises me. With slow but sure hands, he takes my head into his palms, his fingers threading through my hair. His gaze is fastened to my lips, and mine hone in on his. Oh yes, this is exactly what I want. What I came for.
“Mami,” he breathes just before he lowers his head.
In my mind, I’ve built this up, wondering how it will feel, how awkward it will be to learn a new mouth. I’ve reflected on the few past relationships I’ve had, on the weirdness of that new kiss. The unknown making things a little awkward and a little iffy at first. Needing that bit of time initially to develop a flow.
But none of that happens with Alejandro. No, he knows exactly what he’s doing. There is zero hesitation. Zero awkwardness. When his lips touch mine, they do it with a finesse and surety I’ve never encountered before. He dives right in, taking my mouth with the same aggressiveness I admired in him earlier. His mouth opens over mine, his tongue slipping inside. I touch my tongue to his. I feel his teeth on my bottom lip, followed by the upper. He alternates between each lip, sucking them into his mouth. Little growls rumble in his chest as he feasts on me, his hands cradling my head turning me this way and that to accept everything he has to give.
I love how he takes charge of me, guides me. There is no question what he wants, and he doesn’t ask permission. Inside, my body has become an inferno, burning me up. The dull ache of excitement is now a roar of need, and I feel my pussy clench, my nipples harden, and my stomach pitch with increasing desire.
I keep thinking pump the brakes, Julie! You can’t jump into bed with a man the first time you meet him. But I tell that voice to shut the hell up and mind its own business. It’s just my family values talking, the voice of my parents telling me how to be a proper lady all my life speaking up, but they’re not here. They don’t have a say in how I choose to live my life. So I push the voices of doubt and angst aside once again in favor of living in the moment.
I wrap my arms around his back, my hands curling around his biceps, my breasts crushing against his chest, the hard ridge of his cock pressing against my stomach through his jeans. I soak in the harnessed power of Alejandro’s body, reveling in the sensation of being smaller than him and the knowledge that I’m at his mercy. If he wanted to, he could make me do anything. And not just by using his strength against me. All Alejandro would have to do at this moment is issue a command, and I would obey.
He holds so much power over me right now, and all the woman in me wants to do is listen—follow I crave this moment like I need oxygen. I crave for him to rule me, to push my boundaries, the limits of my self-control.
Because with him, I have none.
I am his to dominate.
I’m so wrapped up in his kisses, in the way his tongue dances with mine, the heat of his body against me, that I don’t even realize that one of his hands has trailed down and snuck beneath my shirt. It’s only when I feel his palm cup my breast, squeezing and massaging, that I become aware.
The new sensation is unexpected but more than welcome. I focus there, absorbing the feel of him exploring me, testing how far I’ll go. But he must know that, for me to be here with him, I aim to see this through to the end.
His fingers work their way along the lacy edge of my bra, dipping deeper inside with each pass until they graze my nipple. I moan into Alejandro’s mouth, encouraging him to go further.
He doesn’t disappoint.
With the confidence I’ve come to expect from him, he abandons my bra and lifts my shirt, exposing the swells of my breasts. Only then does his mouth leave mine. Immediately, he dives down, lifting the cup of my bra to release the breasts he teased, and then his mouth is there, his tongue lapping at my hardened nipple.
A ripple of pleasure flows through me, and my head falls back on my shoulders, my mouth opening on a sigh as he takes me into his mouth and lavishes attention on my tender flesh.
I cup his jaw in my hand, feeling the muscles work as he sucks me between his lips. The soft bite of his teeth sends another jolt through me that shoots like an arrow down to my throbbing clit.
“Oh, God,” I moan, never wanting him to stop. Somewhere in my mind, I try to remember a time in my life that I ever felt this kind of intensity, but I can’t. For the life of me, I can’t recall ever feeling this alive; this attune to my body or the person playing it. It’s as if Alejandro knows exactly how and where to touch me to elicit the strongest reaction.
I love him for that.
His teeth graze my nipple a few more times, giving a playful bite followed by a soothing lick before he returns to my mouth. I feel drugged, so wrapped up in the intensity of the moment that I’m following his lead on everything. So it’s with his guidance that my hand finds his cock, already sprung free from his denim prison. He’s hot and hard and ready.
I curl my fingers around his length, absorbing the newest sensation and knowledge that I’m touching a, for lack of a better term, foreign cock. I never thought I’d be here, with anyone other than my husband, but I am.
It feels curiously amazing.
As we kiss, the hand Alejandro used to touch my breast sneaks its way down the front of my pants, his thick fingers finding my sopping wet core and pushing inside me without preamble. I take his cue, stroking his cock, careful not to squeeze too hard or pump too fast. To be honest, it’s difficult to concentrate on much of anything when his fingers are buried so deep inside of me. I am nothing but a mass of sensation, mindless in my pursuit of pleasure.
It’s not fair to him that I’m taking so much and not giving much back, I tell myself. I try to concentrate less on myself and more on what I’m doing to him, but then his deft fingers slip free of my inner walls and begin circling my clit, and I lose my mind completely.
6
The muscles in my legs have a mind of their own, twitching and dancing like Elvis with each circle Alejandro makes around my aching clit. I love how out of control it makes me feel…and I also hate it.
How the hell can he play my body as if he alone knows the melody? In all the years that I’ve been married, I can count on one hand the amount of times my husband made me come without some serious work on my end to get there, not to mention the countless times after sex when I’d wait until he left to use the bathroom to finish myself off.
With the high I’m riding now, I have a feeling that I won’t have that problem with Alejandro. I’m teetering on the edge right now, and I haven’t even had the pleasure of feeling him inside of me.
Which I want…so very badly.
His fingers leave me, and so does his mouth. Turning his head, I watch Alejandro suck my cream from his fingers, then he turns to me and pushes a second past my own lips, his mouth crushing down on mine, tasting my essence together. His hand is back down my pants a second later, and he kisses me like a man possessed as he continues fingering me. As for me? I’m verging on coming already. I’ve never been so turned on in my life.
In the way I’m quickly growing accustomed to, Alejandro once again removes his hand from my pants and makes quick work of pushing them down my hips. My panties go with them, and I have just enough presence of mind to kick off my shoes, so my pants don’t get tangled up at my feet.
After I’m bottomless, it’s the work of a moment for Alejandro to shove his own pants down, but he doesn’t bother losing them altogether.
No. He’s too impatient, too eager to get inside of me.
I know exactly how he feels. My heart is thundering in my chest, and I don’t even give it a second thought when he grabs me by the hips and spins me around. The next thing I know, I’m bent over the bed, my hands indenting the mattress, and Alejandro is right behind me.
The feel of his cock slipping between my thighs excites me on a level I can’t even explain. It’s as if all the blood has rushed straight to my head, when in reality it’s all pooling between my legs, making me wetter than I’ve ever been in my entire life.
&n
bsp; Gripping himself in his hand, Alejandro rubs the head of his cock through my folds, teasing my clit just once, and only once, before he penetrates me. Just like he kisses, he doesn’t hesitate for a second. He feeds me his entire length at once until he’s buried to the hilt, stretching me deliciously.
We both moan at the feel of being connected so intimately. In the back of my head, I still can’t believe I’m here, doing this, but it feels so out-of-this-world fantastic, I know that for as long as I live, I will never look back on this moment and regret a single second.
There is nothing more powerful, more thrilling, or more pleasurable than the feel of a man losing himself to you. Inside of you. There’s an exchange of power that’s profound. The moment when two people connect, stripped completely, and give in to their animal instincts is when they are at their most honest.
Alejandro is a lover, the kind of man who aims to please while taking the most that life has to offer. At this moment, as he grunts and grinds against me, as our bodies push and pull and develop a rhythm, I become aware of the free spirit that resides within him, the wildness that refuses to be tamed.
It’s that very wildness that attracts me to him the most, I think. And I crave to touch it, to have it touch me. And it’s also at that moment that I recognize the very same thing resides within me, an animal I’ve kept caged all my life in favor of performing my wifely and motherly duties. It’s a part of me that is now roaring to be let free.
“Te sientes tan bien, Mami,” Alejandro breathes as he grips my hips and rides me hard.
I have no idea what he just said, the words lost to the sounds of heavy breathing and skin slapping together. I don’t care either. I’m too focused on feeling…everything.
“Voy a vete a la mierda tan duro.” With that, his pace increases, and I feel him dig even deeper, his cock hitting depths that produce a twinge of pain, but it’s that added pinch that drives me higher. My excitement grows, swelling like a turbulent sea in the midst of the most perfect storm. I know without a doubt that he’s going to make me come, and I’m wholly focused on capturing it, of reaching that point of no return.
Papi: Based on a True Story Page 3
