Unsuitable Obsession - Part One

by Trisha Fuentes

  Running my hands through my hair, I find my bed finally and lie down. Hands folded behind my head, Amber Fitzgerald pops into my reflections of the day. I roll over slightly and try to get comfortable, I can’t? That girl invades my mind again. Another chuckle escapes my throat. Sounds silly, but I can envision myself holding her...oh hell...that really is pointless. Almost feels like...one day...I will? Good God, that is truly insane...I must be getting sick, coming down with something, catching a cold, a fever, something.

  I roll over to the other side of bed. Again, she pops into my head.

  I roll back over to the other side.

  I want to steal her, I’ve concluded, but I keep brushing the thought out of my rationale. I have to keep reminding myself that Amber is Victor’s girlfriend. She’s his girlfriend, Eduardo. Girlfriend...darling...sweetheart, remember sensing the attachment in your brother’s eyes? You would never act on betraying him again. Never. Or would you? I could never exploit my attraction to her, never. I can’t, I won’t. Well...maybe. No, think of Victor. Your little brother...No can do.

  The thought of it runs rampant throughout my brain. My heartbeat is accelerating now. I wish Amber were lying here next to me. Good God, this is getting hallucinatory!

  Get it under control Eduardo!

  But what was that feeling I felt when I was beside her tonight, a connection? What the hell was that all about? I have never experienced sensitivity like that before with any woman. The moment I leaned over to welcome her company, I noticed Amber’s lips parting from my presence. Instantaneously, I felt amazing magnetism, a mind-boggling urge to stay near her? Fascination washed over me, my heart pounded uncontrollably, I wanted to grab her in my arms and kiss those parted lips. I was sexually attracted to her; I knew that straight away. Walking away from my brother however, I knew I’d have a dilemma and recognized instantly that I was in big trouble. I was around that girl for no more than thirty seconds, but yet, I felt dispirited for drawing away? I could either steal her away for the evening, or give my little brother a gift. I love my little brother...I don’t like to see him hurt.

  I try and close my eyes, but Amber’s dark tresses assault my sleep. She was definitely different. Diverse from the other girls I usually favor. Blondes, any blonde; women with caress worthy light-colored hair. Dirty blonde, light blonde, platinum blonde, flaxen whatever, I settle for nothing less. Baffles my mind how I’m suddenly attracted to this girl, with her tantalizing raven splendor. Amber is no raving beauty; in fact, she’s even sort of plain. Most of my dates wear make-up; she appeared to bear none. She had a pert modest nose, supple complexion; nothing stunning to say the least...it was her eyes. Those eyes, not from any one color, but...hers looking through mine; like she was handing over a mystery, a key to her very soul and this is what is so baffling to me.

  Why is she so damn fascinating anyway? I’m trying to find the answer, but it escapes me. Maybe it’ll arrive in the morning, I must get some sleep. But I’m one determined fool and I always find the explanation, that’s my perseverance. Once I set my mind to something, I always achieve my goal. But what objective could this bring about?

  With much effort, my eyes finally feel heavy. I’m still not asleep, but I’m tired enough for my lids to remain shut. Again, Amber pops into my head. Damn that sexual attraction!

  There are two types of women who gain my full attention. The first is a woman who could build up my salacious nature—my physical attraction. There has to be a minimum of three visible attributes I like about a woman, whether it’s her hair (blonde), her eyes (usually blue or green, never brown) or her body. The females that usually turn my head are the ones with evident contours, slender waists, and tone bottoms with curvaceous breasts. Did I mention breasts? Good God, checking out the rest of Amber tonight definitely was my doom. Her height wasn’t even a factor because her body was so amazing. Hourglass shape with round shapely hips, long tone tan legs and a bra size I could only imagine could contain the most desirable pair of breasts. My perverted nature sends images of my mouth gliding across her pink, projected nipples. The consistent semblance stirs an arousing response in my better part.

  Good God Amber Fitzgerald, get the hell out of my head!

  When I’m sexually attracted to a woman then heaven help her. The female will be in my bed and she’d be leaving totally satisfied a few days later. I can only think of two women in my past that I’ve been harshly sexually captivated by. Back in high school Stacey Somers (the girl who broke my heart by the way) was a devote Christian and holding off for marriage. Good God, I tried everything to get her to sleep with me. If I was determined back then to get into her into pants, she was just as stubborn fending my body away. The second girl was at UCLA; Tarin Howard, was a highly sought after cheerleader and my pursuit of her was unmerciful. We dated and slept with one another for several months continuously until Tarin was offered to pose nude in Playboy. Well Hell, that got me disinterested in her real fast, she’d rather display her breasts for the whole God damn world than to me privately? We broke up, Tarin posed nude and I concentrated on education and graduated Magna Cum Laude.

  As I roll over in bed for the umpteenth time, I’m positive I want Amber Fitzgerald. Good God, her appeal was going to destroy my better judgment! All my life I’ve never lacked for anything. I have the personality, the mentality and the funds to obtain anything (including women) that my heart so desires.

  Inaccessible...

  Unreachable...The challenge and the intricate pursuit…

  Good God...as I feel myself drifting away in dreams of her...Amber Fitzgerald is going to destroy me...

  VICTOR

  My birthday is next month, I’ll be twenty-one. Never thought I’d be married by this age, never thought I’d be lucky enough to find someone to love and cherish as much as I love and cherish Amber.

  She’s everything I ever wanted in a girlfriend; why not make her my bride? The way she makes me feel when I’m around her, she makes me smile all the time. She’s got this cocky sense of humor, I mean, it’s almost like a dudes. Direct and straightforward, she tells you like it is, and I respect her opinions. We never argue, and I think that’s a good thing. I’ve had girlfriends in the past who’ve nitpicked everything I ever did and it was always so laborious trying to make them happy or smile.

  Why don’t girls realize that when we guys play sports we can’t always give them our undivided attention? I mean, I’m out in center field and she’s like “notice me—I’m here—woo hoo—notice me”. I’m not one to date or sleep around. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m no virgin, I just don’t see the point of sleeping with girls I can’t have a conversation with. Not like my brother, bastardo that he is, that guy doesn’t realize the power he has over women. If I had just a tiny bit of his bravado I’d be invincible, the man is a dating legend; I don’t know how he does it. Gets girls phone numbers and then has them for dinner—literally. Doesn’t he ever want to know what they’re thinking rather than knowing what they look like naked? Can you tell I’m just a little bit envious of the dude? Don’t get me wrong, I love my brother, without him, I wouldn’t be half the man I am today. He taught me how to come out of my shell (or rather how not to be shy) and how to approach chicks. Without Eduardo, I’d be in some jail cell or maniacally pushing the buttons on some video game. And smart, damn, my bro is smart, I mean, intellectually stupid smart. I don’t know how many times I’ve gone to him for help with Algebra, Science, History, English—all those hard subjects. He’s helped me bring my C’s to B’s and support me on the Varsity Baseball Team. Hell, without him, I wouldn’t have lettered in Baseball, Basketball or even Football for that matter. My C’s would have been D’s, and I would have never been able to excel in sports. Yah, I was a jock. But I wasn’t one of those exemplary jocks with the conceited attitudes, like my shit don’t stink. I hated those dudes. I guess you could say I was unpopular socially, I hated those damn phony-ass lipstick chicks too, I’d rather hang around other team members or
girls I knew from class. I remembered seeing Amber in my Photography class, but she was always so shy. I often wondered what her face looked like if she pulled her hair away from her face. But, I’m ahead of myself; let’s leave her for last (the best for last).

  I’ve always hung around white dudes. I hate speaking Spanish outside my home (I am of Mexican decent and I’ve always wondered why Mexican wasn’t considered the language of Mexicans—but Spanish—or Español) whatever. I hate being asked to translate to other Mexicans who happen to have just crossed the border. I mean, I was born here, in the San Fernando Valley, I’ve never stepped foot in Mexico. How can I be thrown in and automatically associated with a group of Mexicans that I don’t even know? I hate that too! Just because you’re Hispanic instinctively means you’re supposed to speak Spanish? Whatever. Mama and Papa insist I speak Spanish the moment I’m at home though, insist I speak Spanish to my elders. OK. I can live with that, but around my white friends? Forget it. And I think my bro has had it the hardest really, he was born in Mexico. He had to learn English in elementary, back in the 60’s when teachers looked down on foreigners. He hardly had any friends, kids used to tease him because of his accent and the color of his skin. Damn but it was hard to grow up in a white-ass neighborhood! Kids were always picking on us. Good thing I could kick a ball, or swing a bat, otherwise, we’d be homebodies! At the age of seven, my bro would lock himself in his bedroom and study for hours, trying to perfect English and pronounce the language without a hint of an accent. Damn that boy was determined. Told ya I wasn’t bright like Eduardo, but hey, I can hit a 75-MPH fastball into center field! Eduardo can’t even hit a pitch if it was lobbed to him underhand two-feet away (laughing out loud)! But I love the dude; I admire him for going to school for so many years and getting his goddamn Bachelor’s Degree and then to top it off go to Harvard? What kind of brainy psycho goes to Harvard? Eduardo Sanchez, that’s who, can you tell I look up to the dude?

  Amber and I, we like to kid around and joke with one another and if we do happen to have an argument (which is almost never), I’m usually the one who apologizes. I don’t know what it is, but I don’t want her mad or upset with me. I guess what it really boils down to is I never want her to leave me. All my girlfriends have broken up with me; I’ve never been bold enough to dump them first. Oh, not for the lack of wanting to, I’ve had some really unhealthy relationships, especially when my bro is involved. He can be a little annoying at times, especially in the female department. Damn if he hasn’t already taken two of my steady girlfriends. I don’t blame them really, although at the time, I was really, I mean, really upset with him, like my whole world shattered. But hey, the girls weren’t into me, I figured they were just into my bro, and used me to get to him. Skanks. No biggy, life went on, I found other chicks that dug me.

  Carla Pinkton (my first real girlfriend), man I thought I loved that girl. She looked like Jodie Foster with dirty blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She was awesome too and could make-out for hours. I tried to get to second base with her, but she kept pushing me away, I figured, no biggy, she’d let me rub her eventually. We were going out for three months straight and during the summer, she would come over to my house and go swimming. Bad idea. Summer meant my bro was on vacation too and spent most of his time at home. Carla and I barely stepped foot outside and I noticed that she was entranced by the pool. I turned to look where she was staring and there he was, his goddamn arms crossed above his shoulders lying in his underwear on a lounge chair. He was trying to get a tan and didn’t bother to put on a bathing suit. It was his house too, but fuckin’ Eduardo, couldn’t he just be a little bit more bashful? I remembered going over to him and kicking his shin. His limbs lazily reclined off the sides of the plastic, exposing not only the thickness of his huevos, but his hairy ass legs. Eduardo opened up his eyes immediately and was about to return the jolt. Damn but Carla didn’t nearly expire at the sight of my bro standing there practically naked, bronzed from the sun. I yanked her body away from his cocky attitude and pushed her into the pool on purpose to cool her down. It didn’t matter; she ended up trying to get me jealous by throwing herself at several of my teammates too. Whatever.

  Dawn Johnson (yah, that was her real name), was the girl I thought I might marry one day. Dawn was also a blonde and tall and slender. We met at a baseball game; her twin brother was our Varsity’s third baseman. Damn that dude was awesome; I think he got a scholarship to Arizona State. Seems college scouts look for height along with talent and I had the talent but didn’t have the height. I mean, I had the constant STATS; can you imagine having a .540 batting average and still not be good enough to play pro ball? Damn I admire those dudes; pro baseball players are the elite of athletic perfection. But that’s OK, more to life than baseball, I’m learning now. I wanted to be a professional baseball player all my life, but my life took another road. I’m lucky to even have a job. I’m working with the City of L.A. right now and city jobs are hard to get into. I guess it pays to have so many cousins, because my cousin Dante got me in.

  Back to my girlfriend...Dawn let me get to second base, third and even score a homerun! God Bless Her. Yah, she was my first, she took my virginity and vice versa. We were reckless in our relationship; we didn’t care where we got it on. The car, the park, school gym, baseball diamond, wherever. She was awesome too; her demur attitude tied in with her ability to sexually please me made her my ideal woman. We went together for nearly nine months straight, she even met my brother a few times and she never fainted at the sight of him. I thought I was in heaven until one day she confessed to me at the beach (the day I was going to give her an engagement ring) that she had slept with Eduardo. Slept? You mean had sex? Are you fuckin’ kidding me? Why would Eduardo do that to me? He knew we were going together, why would he force himself on her? Oh shit, I was so upset! I vowed never to speak to the dude ever again. Took me a long time to get over Dawn; I was five months into being single when I bumped into a dark-haired angel.

  So what if Amber’s a little taller than me, she’s got an awesome body! Her bra size, damn that girl is fine. Her tiny little waist and shapely ass, I can’t get enough of simply looking at her! The way she kisses, it’s like she over powers you with her zest for life; giving, definitely a generous girl, my Amber and such an accommodating person, pleasing and loving. We can talk for hours, we have similar interests. She loves to try and make me laugh and I love to spring the latest jokes on her, and we get a kick out of the silliness and bowl over laughing. Damn, I want to give her everything. When we’re married, I want to try and save for a house. Somewhere close to my parents home so we can visit often. A three-bedroom/ two-bath somewhere in the west valley, which would be nice, with a huge ass backyard like my parents for all my kids to run around in. I know I won’t be able to afford a pool, but my parents have one, so we’ll go swimming over there. Damn, I can’t wait to get married and make Amber legally mine. Sometimes I like to watch her from afar and wonder what she’s thinking. Sitting by herself in a corner of my parent’s home, with my family all around, she looks so buried in thought; is she thinking about us…about our future…about all our kids? I want at least five; I wonder if she’s ready for that. I know she loves my family, and I know she’s also wanted a big family of her own; we have that in common too. I know she’s had a rough time growing up with all her mother’s boyfriends; I want to give her a stable life, a family of her own and a marriage that she can be proud of. God, I love Amber so much! I hope she’s as happy as I am!

  Three

  Love Me Love My Family

  The happiest day of her life had to be her wedding day. Amber stood in front of the floor length mirror and admired her reflection; her long tresses were twisted tightly above her head, ringlets fell about her face and her extended sheer organza veil cut down along the curves of her body making her appear like another woman in general. It wasn’t so much her wedding day that she was excited about, but all about entering into a family she never really had. Alw
ays wanting that stable family unit with lots and lots of kids with lots and lots of relatives; something she never had or felt while growing up. Damn the man who created her! The emptiness her father produced, that dull pain, that need for a family, the husband, the wife, the kids, all together and never apart. And Victor was the perfect man for the job, he came equipped with the perfect candidates—The Sanchez Family.

  Amber’s hair was professionally done, thanks to her sister’s vocation. Molly Fitzgerald was a make-up artist working for a major movie studio. Right out of high school she knew what she wanted to do, become a movie star, and when that didn’t happen (or not quick enough) she worked on them. “Close enough to spit on’em”, Molly always said.

  “Oh my goodness, that dress is absolutely mag!” Molly spurted out, wanting to touch the dress, but doesn’t. Molly was nearly as tall as her sister—the two girls getting all of their height from their father; Molly’s hair was slightly lighter and shorter than Amber’s though, but just as straight. Although Amber took Sam’s hazel eyes, Molly’s were noticeably chocolate just like their mother’s.

  “Isn’t it though,” Amber stated, admiring the dress again. “Do I look all right, the buttons in the back all straight?”

  “Let me see, turn around,” Molly instructed, viewing the pearls running down her sister’s backside. “And your hair; The Mane Shop really did a great job, huh? I told you they were the best!”

  “They did, I love it, if only I could look this good every day.”

  Molly brushed aside her sister’s curls. “You do Amber, gawd I’m so jealous of you sometimes—you always look so mag!”