Faith in the Flesh

by Maira Isabel Pita

  I made it across the street in one piece after more than one car blasted its horn—a primitive mating call many Miami males still indulge in, not having yet evolved enough to realize it’s a complete turn-off. Every step I took made me almost uncomfortably aware of my heart beating faster and harder the longer I walked and the longer the phone in my purse remained distressingly silent. I tried to entertain myself by imagining how I would react if John finally called me just as I was sitting down for a drink with Eric but I couldn’t picture that happening, which upset me even more. I’ve learned from experience that if I can’t imagine something happening it doesn’t. Either that or it happens in a completely different way than I could ever have expected judging from the available evidence. Somehow I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that John would not call me while I was with Eric, so the closer I got to my destination the more hopeless I felt.

  Nevertheless it was a relief to finally step into the Colannade’s air-conditioned lobby. A black-and-white marble floor and a working stone fountain in the center all contributed to making me feel wonderfully cool and refreshed physically despite the heat of my inner turmoil.

  I knew from shopping on Miracle Mile that the Colannade boasts a lovely bathroom beneath the main staircase leading up to the reception desk. I swiftly clicked my way toward it in my black strap sandals, which I had chosen because they had small, comfortable heels for walking. I hadn’t been inspired to dress for this assignation, in fact my mood was fashionably black. As I stepped into the spacious marble bathroom, I found it vaguely amusing that I was dressed more appropriately for a funeral this evening than I had been yesterday. I had taken great care over my appearance for John but for Eric I had almost indifferently slipped into a sleeveless cotton dress that clung ever-so gently to my curves as it fell to just above my knees. I rarely ever wear a bra and especially in Miami’s sticky heat it felt nice to let my breasts bob up and down, my nipples poking against the fabric caressing them, making me feel vibrantly lovely and alive.

  I had just opened my purse to pull out my hairbrush when my cell phone rang at last. I gasped in surprise. I’m ashamed to say I had pretty much given up hope. My heart began racing as enchanted lavender light flooded the leather’s black depths. The contents of my purse had shifted while I walked and it took me three agonizing rings to fish out my phone.

  “Hello?” I said calmly.

  “The word hello didn’t exist before the telephone, you know.”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact I did know that.” My reflection smiled at me as if saying I knew he’d call but you’re stupid and always worry too much!

  “Of course you knew. You’re the smartest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”

  “Oh come now…”

  “Not now but soon, I hope.”

  Suddenly in need of support, I turned and leaned against the counter. “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to call,” I confessed reluctantly.

  “Now why on earth would you think that?”

  “Because…I really wanted you to call, John.” I hadn’t planned on revealing my insecurity to him but as had happened last night at dinner, I couldn’t seem to hold anything back from this man. I had no desire to keep anything from him because I was sure he would understand whatever I said and, I suspected, help me understand it better myself.

  “You should have known I would call you, Ariana.” His tone was at once stern and tender, a combination I loved so much I closed my eyes for a second in disbelief that such a man was real and talking to me on the phone. “Unfortunately,” he went on, “I already had plans for tonight I can’t get out of but I’d like to see you again tomorrow night if that’s all right with you.”

  I glanced at my watch, willing the hands to fast-forward twenty-four hours. I was happy and relieved and excited and terrified all at the same time. “Of course it’s all right,” I heard myself say. “Would you like to come over for dinner?”

  “You don’t have to cook for me, Ariana, I’d be happy to—”

  “I know I don’t have to, John, it would be my pleasure to fix us dinner.”

  “Then it would be my pleasure to accept your invitation. I assume your mother will be there since you’re staying with her?”

  “Um, yes…”

  “Wonderful. I can thank her for making sure you were born on earth at the same time I was.”

  I laughed even though it worried me how happy his little joke made me. “Maybe next time I can cook dinner for you at your place,” I dared to suggest.

  “Well…”

  I held my breath against an encroaching wave of despair… He was married or he lived with someone…

  “I’d love that but I’ll have to…clean up a bit first.”

  I sighed and mentally chided myself for once again jumping to negative conclusions.

  “You see, I use my kitchen for storage,” he admitted.

  “Storage?”

  “Yes. The oven’s a great place to put books.”

  “You keep books in your oven?”

  “They’re really hot reading.”

  I giggled. My elation was the emotional equivalent of a champagne glass dangerously close to overflowing. Yet this inexpressibly rare vintage— the feeling that I had finally met the right man—was to be wasted on someone else, for I was already late for my date with Eric.

  “I’ll call you for directions tomorrow,” he said.

  “Okay.”

  “Good night, beautiful.”

  “Good night.

  “I really wish I could get out of this thing tonight,” he added abruptly, “but I can’t.”

  “It’s all right. I understand.”

  “No, you don’t, but you will. It’s because I want to see you so much that I have to go somewhere else tonight.”

  This was a vital riddle I suspected I would spend most of the evening savoring. It tasted infinitely sweet because my heart seemed to know just what it meant. “I’m glad, John.”

  “So am I, Ariana. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Good night.”

  “Good night.”

  I waited until I heard him hang up before I turned back toward the marble counter and reverently placed the cool body of my phone back in my purse.

  I considered standing Eric up but I couldn’t do it. It was too late, I was already there. Besides, what was the harm in simply having a drink with him when we had already done something much more intimate? I was blissfully happy knowing I was going to see John again so I was smiling as I walked into the hotel bar.

  I immediately spotted Eric’s magnificent physique rising from one of the small golden couches to greet me and there was nothing I could do about it if he thought my expression was all for him. He was wearing the same pair of dangerously tight jeans into which he had tucked a short-sleeved white t-shirt that clung to his pecs in a very sexy way. At the same time it also turned me off a little with the possibility that he spent more time lifting weights than exercising his intellect.

  “Hello, beautiful,” he greeted me soberly.

  I wondered why it had felt so different when John called me “beautiful” just minutes before. “Hi,” I replied lightly, selfishly resting my hands on his muscular arms for an instant to give him a sisterly kiss on the cheek. I didn’t like the intensely serious way he was looking at me. It made me feel guilty about having called him in my impatient obsession with another man’s call.

  “Is this all right?” He indicated the couch behind him. “Or would you rather sit at the bar?”

  “No, this is perfect,” I declared, seating myself. “But I liked it better when they had black leather chairs and sofas in here.” I set my purse on the cushion between us as I crossed my legs and turned toward him slightly even while keeping my distance. “The décor is just a bit too…yellow now.”

  He followed the smooth length of my legs from where the hem of my dress rested against my thigh all the way down to the weblike straps of my sandals, where his vision was caught for a long moment. �
�You have unbelievable legs, Ariana.”

  “Thank you,” I replied airily, very glad John had refrained from verbally admiring my legs, which made him stand out from other men even more. I certainly don’t mind compliments but I also don’t relish feeling like a collection of body parts all being judged separately.

  Eric met my eyes and said more than I wanted to hear by remaining silent.

  I looked away, ostensibly searching the lounge for a waiter.

  “He’ll be back in a minute,” my date informed me quietly. “How long will you be in Miami?”

  For a second I debated lying to him but I’m a terrible liar. “I’m not sure,” I said truthfully then regretted it. It seemed obvious my uncertainty involved a man and naturally he would think it was him. “But I bought a roundtrip ticket so I probably won’t be here long,” I added awkwardly, resting one of my hands on my purse and the other on the arm of the couch. I told myself I was only imagining the glint of anger in his unusually clear eyes…eyes that disturbingly evoked a predatory animal’s stare…

  “So where do you live?” he asked almost harshly. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

  “You sound like you’re interrogating me.” I laughed. “Have I committed a crime, officer?”

  “Yes, you have, Ariana.” He seemed about to reach for my hand but instead he abruptly lifted his cute denim-clad ass off the couch and thrust his hand into one of his front pockets. “Here.” He extracted a small black velvet box from his pants and casually tossed it into my lap. “I noticed yesterday that your ears were pierced.”

  “Eric, you shouldn’t have…” The case contained two small gold hoop earrings. “They’re lovely! Thank you.” I refrained from mentioning that I preferred silver. “But you shouldn’t have.” I looked regretfully into his eyes.

  “Why not?” he demanded quietly.

  I was saved from having to answer by the arrival of the waiter. I ordered a glass of Chardonnay and Eric confirmed my conviction that there was no possible future between us by ordering a Coke, even though I had to admire him for obeying one of the laws he helped enforce by not drinking and driving himself.

  “So what crime have I committed?” I asked curiously, closing the jewel box. I was afraid he would ask me to put the earrings on, which to a superstitious part of my brain would have constituted a betrayal of my swiftly deepening feelings for John.

  “You’ve committed the crime of making me want you,” he stated bluntly. “More than I’ve ever wanted a woman.”

  “But you’ve already had me,” I teased cruelly.

  He picked up my purse and set it on the table in front of us. “Come here,” he said in such a way that my body slid across the couch toward him of its own volition before my mind even had the chance to protest. “Put them on for me,” he commanded, slipping an arm around my shoulders.

  His physical proximity suddenly made me feel as limp as a puppet whose movements he was now controlling as I was forced to set aside my symbolic fears and obey him. I opened the jewel case again, caught one of the fragile golden hoops between my fingertips and tossed my hair back as I brought it up to my ear. Years of experience enabled me to easily find the tiny hole in my earlobe.

  “Very nice,” he whispered after I had slipped them both on.

  “Thank you,” I said tensely, because my body was inevitably, traitorously, responding to the visceral memory of how hard he had fucked me.

  Our drinks arrived just as my cell phone came alive again, the urgent ring muffled by my purse and its contents.

  “Excuse me, I have to get that,” I said, disengaging myself from him. This time five nerve-shattering rings went by before I was able to answer. I had dreaded it might be John again, so when I saw the number on the display I was infinitely relieved.

  “Hi, Mami,” I said cheerfully.

  “Where are you?” she demanded.

  “At the Colannade Hotel.”

  “And what are you doing there? Are you with that man again? What was his name? Are you planning to spend any time with your mother while you’re here?”

  “Yes, I’m going to spend time with you, Mami, but I can’t talk right now. I’ll be home soon, I promise.” I quickly switched off the phone. “That was my mom,” I informed Eric.

  “I gathered as much.”

  I dropped the phone back in my purse, deliberately setting it between us again, and reached for my Chardonnay, feeling I had earned it. I feel that way every day after six o’clock. I sipped the golden liquid gratefully, avoiding Eric’s eyes as I conjured up a lie. “I’m afraid I’m condemned to have dinner with a bunch of my relatives tonight.” I almost believed it myself.

  “Well.” He downed a good portion of his Coke in one thirsty swallow. “Do you have time to join me for a little appetizer at least?”

  “Certainly.”

  “Good. I know of a little place around the corner. Finish your wine.”

  “Yes, sir,” I teased soberly. At that moment everything about him looked so hard I couldn’t resist a primal desire to obey him, a basic instinct aroused in me by the heady aura of authority surrounding him I knew from experience he wouldn’t hesitate to enforce. I wondered what restaurant he had in mind but for some reason I didn’t ask. I simply entertained myself watching him pull his wallet out of a back pocket, admiring his ass again as he tossed some cash onto the table next to his empty glass. I was too content to be annoyed that he was rushing me through my Chardonnay, which I finished in record time.

  “Okay, I’m ready,” I announced a bit tipsily, my body pleasantly languid. I was so relaxed in fact, that I appreciated the possessive grip of his hand on my arm helping me up as I slipped my purse strap over my other shoulder.

  We walked back into the hotel, the first floor of which consisted of a small, highly expensive mall and the bathrooms he was apparently leading me toward.

  “I’ll wait for you out here,” I said but he kept firm hold of my arm as though he hadn’t heard me. I didn’t realize he was heading for the private phone booths directly beneath the stairs until he opened the door to one, at which point I opened my mouth to tell him he could use my cell phone. Then how obvious this was clued me into the fact that he had no intention of calling anyone as he directed me into the small space ahead of him. Stunned by this development and trying to make room for both of us in the cramped quarters, I dropped onto the bench facing him as he closed the door behind us.

  “Eric!” I protested as he snatched the purse off my lap and carelessly crammed it between the phone and the wall behind him. “What are you doing?” I asked even though he was unzipping his jeans directly in front of my face. “Oh my God,” I said as he shoved his underwear down with one hand and pulled his erection out with the other.

  It was no wonder his cock had felt so good. His erection was enormous. I wasn’t able to take it in with just my eyes. I had to use my mouth to fully absorb its impressive reality. Only when I felt the godlike hard-on pressing down on my tongue and against the roof of my mouth, completely filling my orifice, was I convinced it was very real indeed.

  “Mm, yes!” he said, swiftly running the fingers of both hands through my hair to keep it out of my face. “I see you like your little appetizer.”

  I had to appreciate his sense of humor almost as much as his dream cock. Yet although it filled my mouth completely it left the rest of me feeling strangely empty and anticipating my dinner date with John tomorrow night even more intensely.

  “That’s right…suck my cock like a good girl… That’s it, you can handle it, baby, just relax…”

  I moaned half with excitement half in protest as he took control of my head. I planted my hands on his rock-hard denim thighs to brace myself and also to be prepared to push him away if the exercise of swallowing the full length of his erection became too much for me. It seemed he was determined to force himself all the way down into my throat, and I was aching to give him what he wanted simply because it was an honor to have such a magnificent cock in my
mouth. In the back of my mind I told myself deep throating was a skill any man would appreciate, including John, and that this was very good practice for pleasing him in the future.

  “Oh, Ariana…” Eric slowly caressed his swollen head with my throat over and over again, his hips unconsciously picking up speed as his pleasure intensified.

  My eyes closing from the effort I was making to control my gag reflex, I moaned again, this time as a warning that I couldn’t take his selfish strokes much longer, mysteriously gratifying as they were. His pre-cum was building up in the back of my throat and threatening to drown me. It was an immense relief when he slipped out of my mouth and let me catch my breath as I looked up at him.

  He caressed my cheek. “I think I need to fuck you again, Ariana.”

  I bit my lip, wanting to protest, but I was unable to do so in the face of his magnificent erection. The whole time it was crammed in my mouth my pussy had been jealously juicing for his big beautiful cock.

  “Get up,” he commanded.

  I obeyed and he took my place on the bench. “Come here,” he said.

  “No.” I finally protested. I had no desire to ride him, which would mean facing him and having to look down into his eyes. “I like it from behind,” I explained, lifting my dress up around my hips as I turned toward the phone and braced myself on it. I closed me eyes again in anticipation as he impatiently yanked my panties down to my knees.

  This time when he penetrated me the experience was even more devastatingly pleasurable as I was able to picture the length and girth of the hard cock opening my sex lips up around it and pushing up into my pussy. Then I cried out from the breathtaking fulfillment as he pulled out and swiftly stabbed me with his full, rending length again.

  “Quiet!” he whispered.

  Somehow I limited myself to strangled gasps as he plunged the full length of his erection in and out of my body with such fierce energy the intensity of the sensation killed my ability to think about anything or anyone else. Once again I found his powerful thrusts propelling my senses to a transcendent place outside time and space I never wanted to leave.