by Lucy Jones
As soon as we passed through the door, our visit to the gigantic house transformed into a sexual treasure hunt. The owner of this place was taking me on a tour. From room to room, Daniel wielded his erotic power over me. We were starving, thirsty, insatiable.
Right there, he devoured my mouth. The fire of his kisses spilt into my veins.
Over there, he tore off my clothes and used his tongue to work miracles that made me feel as if I was sinking into the wall he'd pressed me up against.
In the living room, he made me kneel down on the rug. A willing victim, I let him spank me until it stung.
In the banquet room, he took me on the long marble table. My burning bum was on the cold and hard stone, like a sizzling hot poker plunged into water.
In the staircase, the steps dug into my flesh under Daniel's thrusts.
In the gigantic shower, we tried to soothe our marked, exhausted, panting bodies covered in sweat. But under the massaging effect of the water, surrounded by hot vapour, our bodies wanted more. Hands against the dripping wall, legs spread, I felt Daniel's torso against my back. He pulled his left arm around my waist and his right hand passed in between my legs, caressing my sex. When he felt my excitement start to peak, he slid his thumb into my anus while continuing, with the rest of his hand, to pleasure my sex. The deafening roar of the water, the steam that blurred every image, the fatigue of my muscles, the sulphur-like fragrance in the air, the heat of Daniel's skin against mine all contributed to my lack of resistance, my appetite for new sensations, my desire to explore, to trustingly surrender to his expert hands.
In one room, with a loose yet short enough rope to keep me immobile, he tied my hands to the frame of the antique bed. He could do what he wanted with me. And through him, I experienced incredible pleasure. My head, my legs, all of my limbs fell to the side. I was nothing, merely existing.
Exhausted, lying next to one another, between fullness and emptiness, between fusion and detachment. I remembered the headline: Call Mr. Fire! and I smiled. What an appropriate name!
“Mr. Fire...”
Daniel turned his face towards mine. I looked at his sky blue eyes and continued smiling.
“That fits you very well, like a tailor made suit.”
Now I turned: Daniel was also smiling, amused, surprised. There was something both childish and diabolical in that grin.
Far from the hotel, where Daniel was a guest and I was obliged to be at the service of my customer, things seemed different to me. It was likely that this dynamic, which was normal under my job description, had made me falsify my reactions and affected how I interpreted his reactions, or lack thereof. Free from these conventions, I willingly submitted myself to his sexual domination, and it gave me great pleasure.
When I opened my eyes on Saturday morning, Daniel, wearing a white linen pair of pants and shirt, was looking out the window of the bedroom. He was on the phone. “Perfect. Thanks, Ray.” He hung up and turned towards me, beaming. “Wake up, Julia. Ray's got the boat ready. We're going to take a tour.” Palace, haute-couture, diamonds, convertible, house and now a boat: all of this luxury was beyond surprise, beyond my comprehension. It was another world.
I jumped out of bed, threw on a bathing suit and a light dress and we dashed out. On the sea, a light breeze softened the blazing sun. I lazed about, lying on a mattress on the front of the boat and, out of the corner of my eye, watched Daniel, shirtless, walking along the side of the boat. He was outrageously seductive. His olive skin looked incredibly healthy and warm.
Along a deserted cove, Daniel anchored the boat. He grabbed my hand and led me into the immense cabin. There, he put his arm around my waist and took possession of my mouth. The contact of our skin, warmed by the sun, made me swoon. I drowned in his kisses. Carried away by our passionate embrace, we fell onto a large sofa covered with soft cushions. Our chests came together, our legs intertwined, we became just one body that swayed to the rhythm of our desire. I hoped it would never end.
All of a sudden I felt Daniel groping around for something. Then he moved aside. He was holding a long, black silk scarf.
“I want to blindfold you.”
He must've be able to read the apprehension in my eyes, because he added:
“Don't be afraid. Much to the contrary. When the other person can't see, you become more daring. It's fear of judgment that prevents us from really letting go. I'm sure you'll like it.”
Daniel tightly knotted the scarf around my eyes. Despite his words, fear washed over me. I had a hard time breathing, I couldn't hear anything, my limbs tensed up. But Daniel's caresses quickly won me over. The feeling of claustrophobia gave way to well-being. A breath of fullness pushed my body and mind to relax. My limbs relaxed, and all of my senses concentrated on the effects that Daniel's caresses had on me. All of my being followed these sensations as they multiplied. Only Daniel's touch made me aware of the limits of my body. I felt like I was floating. I submitted myself completely to him, to his expert hands, to his mouth. I'd never surrendered myself like this before.
“I'm going to take you, Julia. Now. I'm going to dive into you,” he said, putting on a condom.
Penetration felt like a salvation. I surrendered without reserve under the movements of his hips. Daniel swayed over my languid body and I dove into the abyss of pleasure.
“Daniel...” my cry came from far away.
With a moan, my sailor flooded me and his heavy body collapsed onto mine. We stayed in this position for a moment, silent, out of breath. Then he gently undid the knot of the scarf, restoring my sight. I told him: “You were right, I was more sensitive, more alive.” But I didn't tell him that I would have loved, with my eyes, to watch him go wild.
After a champagne dinner on the pontoon, we returned to dry land as night fell. We went back to the house, leaving the boat in Ray's capable hands.
Sunday, July twenty-second. Daniel was leaving for France that night. My eyes were brimming with sadness and I was full of apprehension, but I tried not to let anything show. I didn't want to ruin the last hours we had together. I forced myself to seem happy, to pretend like nothing was wrong. I lived and breathed for our torrid embraces. Like someone taking a deep breath before slowly letting it out, I filled myself with these last moments with Daniel Wietermann so that they would live on beyond his departure, for an eternity.
Neither one of us spoke on the way back to the hotel. Daniel had left his enthusiasm and lively mood back on Long Island. Now he was distant, evasive. It was getting harder and harder for me to hold back the pain that was eating me up inside.
We got close to the city. I broke the silence, even daring to ask a question.
“There's something I want to ask you.”
“Go ahead.”
“Why do you go so far out of your way to avoid your wife?”
Daniel's face grew hard.
“I don't want to talk to you about that, Julia,” he said firmly, almost angrily.
What did he have to hide? I'd been mistaken, I'd thought that this weekend had changed things between us. I was naïve to think that I had the right to ask that sort of question.
“Why? You don't trust me? I'm just some woman that you're fucking?”
“Camille is my father.”
With this laconic answer, he shot down my remarks and imposed a silence between us.
I was expecting a face-to-face goodbye, a few nice words, but once we were at the hotel, Daniel, hard, insensitive, left me without a last glance, without an affectionate word. This wasn't the same man I'd just spent three extraordinary days with. No tearful goodbyes, no passionate accolades, no plans for the future, no promises. Daniel left with his luggage and employees and I tried to put on a happy face. But deep down inside of me, I was hurt, lost, destroyed.
As soon as he was out of sight, I ran to take refuge in my room and cry my eyes out. I wrote to Sarah.
* * *
From: Julia [email protected]
Sent: Sunday 22 July
2012 8:02 PM
To: Sarah [email protected]
Re: The best and the worst
Sarah,
Daniel is on his way to the airport and I'm devastated.
Will I ever see Daniel Wietermann again? I'm suffering from the fact that I have to resign myself to harsh reality. I feel bad about not having dared to ask, I feel bad for imagining that there could be a 'we', and I'm mad at him for his indifference, his silence.
What I was hoping would be the beginning of a long romance – even though this budding relationship wasn't really a relationship, judging from what I consider to be a relationship – was really just an enchanting parentheses, maybe a dream.
I ended up understanding that the ambivalence I was telling you about, this attraction-repulsion that bothered me and still bothers me, was the reason behind my attachment to Daniel. It was why I tried to coax him out of his shell, why I could submit myself to his rules. I learned all this during the last fortnight here. I can't wait to find refuge in the arms of my family.
See you soon,
Julia
* * *
I want to unpack my bags before going to sleep and put the souvenirs of the weekend in a cupboard, so they would not the first thing I'd see when I woke up the next day.
Opening my suitcase, I saw an envelope placed on top of my clothes. My name was written on it, I recognised Daniel's handwriting. A break-up letter? Confession? I trembled, my heart racing. Inside the envelope there was a plane ticket for Paris, dated July 25th, and a few words scribbled on a card:
“Arrangements have been made with Mr. Guttierez.
D.W.”
6. Perplexed
I hadn't unpacked my suitcase from the weekend in Long Island. I hadn't put my things away. I couldn't think about the words “The End”.
That would have been easier. Daniel Wietermann had flown home: end of story. I would undoubtedly bear the stigmata of our encounter in my heart and on my body. There was no doubt that the ghost of Daniel would often come and haunt me. But that would have been easier. I would have written a very different story on these pages.
I didn't want to forget, but I didn't want to compromise myself by hoping. Telling myself that our budding relationship and our sensual adventures were over meant accepting it, making myself available and moving on with my life.
I knew that the Julia who returned home wouldn't be the same as the one who'd left. As well as feeling different, I felt more aware. I'd needed to leave in order to find myself. Daniel had brought me out of my shell and enabled me to discover more of who I was. He had taken me to the very depths of my being. I knew that this was just the start of the journey, but (to ease my suffering, to free myself from the weight of anger, to stop constantly bombarding myself with questions to which there were no answers, to stop imprisoning myself in remorse and regrets) I wanted to be grateful to him for this first step. I didn't feel any bitterness towards him, in fact I wanted to keep our adventure as a wonderful memory, or even enhance the memory, if that would make my heart happy. Thank you, Daniel, for what you've revealed to me, for turning on the lights. I won't forget you. Good luck!
But all these positive resolutions were just imaginary apparitions. And what a reasonable mind produces, the body sometimes rejects. The mind cannot control everything. The body also expresses its opinion. The body protests and wants to have its say.
And my body was already missing him. My body did not want to be without Daniel’s caresses. My body wanted more. It felt bereaved, empty and unattractive so far away from Daniel’s gaze, and it felt dull without the touch of his hands. Everything Daniel lavished on me brought it to life, made it beautiful, made it blossom. My body intuitively told me that I couldn't avoid suffering, questions and conflicts. That it was pointless to try and be detached against such a strong attraction.
My body is still burning, Mr Fire, with the fire that you started. Don’t let it consume itself.
I hadn't unpacked my suitcase from the weekend in Long Island. I was sitting on my bed, staring at the plane ticket and the note from Daniel grasped in my hand. I read and reread them so many times, the letters all blurred together and I could no longer make them out.
When I'd discovered the envelope, my heart had leapt in my chest, my stomach had tightened and my limbs had trembled. Then, when I had taken out the contents of the envelope, I had almost jumped for joy and my whole being had smiled.
So Daniel Wietermann wants to see me again!
But the euphoria of the discovery had dissipated. Did I really have that many reasons to celebrate? Why was I so keen to see this man again? What did this envelope really mean? Should I really rejoice upon reading so few words: “It has been arranged with Mr Gutierrez”? Daniel hadn't written “I can’t wait for you any longer, Julia, I’m missing you already” or “Come and join me, Julia. I love you” or anything like that. No, Daniel had written, “It has been arranged with Mr Gutierrez” Admittedly, this sentence hinted at our liaison and suggested some kind of complicity. It was like a wink, and I could imagine the smile following it. But it said nothing about Daniel and about his deeper feelings. It was superficial and revealed nothing, intending neither to convince nor to charm. It said, “What I want, I get”, “I control everything” and “Do what I tell you”.
I stared at the aeroplane ticket and Daniel’s short note and I felt both happy (that he hadn't left without a word) and disappointed (by the brevity of those words). Would I get on that plane? I had three days to think about it…
I lay down, still clutching the pieces of paper which connected me to Daniel Wietermann, and I fell asleep fully dressed.
Sleeping on it did not help, as I was not thinking any more clearly on Monday morning. I dragged my body to reception, aching from being dressed all night.
I asked customers the same thing twice, made them repeat their questions, gave them the wrong keys and had no idea what I was doing. Daniel Wietermann obsessed me. What did I know about him? What did I feel for him? What should I say, what should I do? I felt defenceless; I knew so little about love, sex and relationships between men and women… I felt as if I did not know the codes or have the necessary weapons, and as if the stratagems were beyond me.
I took advantage of my mid-morning break to shut myself in my room and check my emails. I knew that telling Sarah all my problems would help clear my mind and that she would give me some good advice.
* * *
From Sarah [email protected]
Date Monday 23 July 2012 9:32
To Julia [email protected]
Subject Paradise on earth
My dear Julia,
It’s been a week since I last wrote to you – I’m sorry. But when you find out that my reunion with Luca was the cause of my silence, I’m sure you won’t hold it against me too much, not after your recent behaviour…
Luca and I have hardly been apart since we met up again. From isolated rock to deserted creek, from a small boat to an underwater cave, our bodies have been playing hide and seek, revelling in each other. We have nothing else to do with our days than cool our bodies in the water, gaze at each other, caress our sun-warmed skin and enjoy ourselves. We spend our time half-naked, free and relaxed. It’s paradise and Luca is an incredible lover.
Let me tell you about yesterday afternoon, as that will give you an glimpse of the sensual games we've been playing.
Just like almost every day, we decided to go for a ride along the coast in Luca’s little white boat, to find a quiet place or somewhere we hadn’t yet visited. We drifted along slowly, on a smooth, clear sea. Luca was sitting down steering the boat. I was lying down, basking in the sun. One hand was hanging nonchalantly over the edge of the boat and skimming the water and I was shading my eyes with my other hand so I could get a better view of Luca. The sun was in my eyes and his silhouette, like a majestic figurehead with blurred contours and faded colours, resembled an old colour photograph. His face, like a Greek statue, with its wavy hai
r, was bathed in a halo of light. His youthful beauty seemed eternal, almost unreal. Luca was like a star dazzling me, so much so that my head was spinning. I stood up, took off my bathing costume and dived in without warning. When I re-surfaced, I burst out laughing at Luca’s surprised face. The whole creek resonated with his laugh, as he quickly moored the boat to a rock and jumped into the water to join me. We were both swimming, naked and carefree. I adored swimming around him, under him, over him, brushing up against him as I did so. He tried to catch me by the ankle or by the waist, but I escaped and then swam back towards him. In the clear water, we could see the perfect contours of our bodies. I stopped swimming away from him, letting him reach out for me and get close to me.
We were getting aroused by the caresses of the water and our bodies brushing against each other and soon we found ourselves touching. I put my arms around his neck, pulled him towards me and kissed him on the mouth. He caught hold of my legs, wrapped them around his waist and held them there by squeezing my butt in his hands. I could feel his sex harden against mine.
Suddenly, I broke away to get my breath back and to see his desire for me in his eyes. We looked at each other for a moment, then he dived down and swam slowly between my legs, letting his finger slide down the line of my butt . I quivered with pleasure and began to swim very quickly towards the beach, with him following me.
We embraced, lying in the warm sand, radiant with joy and dripping with salty water and desire. We turned towards each other, driven by the fervour of our embrace and our kisses. Our tongues wandered over each other’s necks, breasts, thighs and crotches. We tasted of salt. We devoured each other hungrily. I was on fire. Something was screaming inside me. My body’s needs became more precise and more intense. I immobilised Luca, kneeled down, placed his body between my thighs and sat on his erect cock. He plunged into me, filling and completing me. I was transported by his tender, gentle movements and carried away by the harmony between us; I felt beautiful, strong and alive with a divine energy. As our limbs weakened, an inner tension rose inside us. We exploded in the same breath, clinging to each other.
