by “Catherine”

My name is Catherine. I’m 40 years old, widowed, and independently wealthy. I’m also alone. My life after my husband’s death differs very little from the life I led before he died. He was rarely home, and when he was home, he might as well have not been. We didn’t have children. Charles let me know after we married that he had changed his mind about that, and had gotten a vasectomy he had failed to tell me about. That was the beginning of the end of our marriage. I could no longer take the lies, the disdain, and the subtle hatred shimmering in his eyes when he looked at me. We retreated to our separate corners of the house, and lived that way for another six years. One day, I got a phone call. He had died at work, as I had expected, since work was more his mistress than the young secretary he had on the side was. I inherited everything, to the horror of the rest of the family, and I’ve spent the last year fending off the “loving relatives” in court. Meanwhile, my husband’s business associates suddenly seem to have developed quite a romantic interest in me, overnight. How very interesting, I said to them. Until now you didn’t know I was alive. It’s amazing how alive 15 millions dollars will suddenly make a person.

My only true friend, Karen, suggested that I take a trip to New York with her, to see the shows, visit the museums, and discover what living was all about again. I reluctantly agreed. Karen made the arrangements, and before I knew it, we were in New York City. The entire week we were there, a blizzard blew in that locked the city up tight as a drum. I couldn’t help but laugh, it seemed to be the story of my life. Towards the end of our stay, Karen decided to brave the weather and go visit her mother in Queens overnight. I stayed at the hotel, and sulked.

I went down to the restaurant at the hotel and decided to eat dinner there, growing tired of hiding out in my room. It was a beautiful place, classically done and obviously for the well to do only. There was a bar in the restaurant, and it was there that I first saw him. I noticed him, because he was looking directly at me…and wouldn’t stop.

He was young, I supposed, 27 or 28. His black hair was wavy and piled high in front, almost like a pompadour. His clothes were intentionally sexy, his dark gray pants tight, the black jacket fitted just right over his white shirt. He wore black cowboy boots, polished to a high sheen. His message seemed to be, “look at me.” I couldn’t help myself. I looked. He looked. I took a cigarette out of my purse and searched for a lighter, when I suddenly saw a shadow cast over me. A single flame, lit from a gold lighter, appeared before me. I saw the bronzed, strong hand that held it, and glanced up the arm attached to see the face of the man from the bar, smiling at me.

“Good evening…I am Antonio,” he said huskily, a strong Spanish accent in his voice. “Who are you?” he asked, holding the lighter still as I lit my cigarette.

I blew out a small stream of blue smoke and regarded him casually. “I don’t recall inviting you to ask…Antonio,” I said, sitting back in the booth and perversely enjoying letting him just stand there. Who did he think he was?

He smiled, obviously nonplussed by my act. “Oh, you invited me, querida. Your eyes said, “Come”.” He sat down across from me and folded his arms on the white linen tablecloth.

“Oh, they did, did they? I think you got your signals crossed…Antonio,” I said, taking another puff of my cigarette and trying to pretend he wasn’t there.

He sat back in the booth, a look of amusement on his face that fired my anger. I stood up to leave, when he said very quietly, “Stay.” I don’t know what happened to me at that point. I should have turned on my heel and left him there. But I didn’t. I sat back down, and I stayed. He smiled, satisfied at my obedience.

“As I was saying,” he said softly, resting his arms on the table again and leaning towards me, “your eyes said to come to you. The question is, now that I am here, what can I do for you, mi amor?”

“You’re a gigolo, aren’t you,” I said, mesmerized by his eyes, their rich topaz depths drawing me into his web. He laughed a bit, and nodded.

“Does that offend you, querida…or entice you?” he replied, his eyes knowing and sly.

“I…don’t know,” I said honestly. I had never met a man like this before in my life. Charles and I had met in college, and I had never had another boyfriend besides him. I was out of my depth here, and I knew it. “I need to go,” I said, picking up my purse and deciding to hurry away from this disturbing young man as fast as I could. He grabbed my wrist, and the moment he did, I was lost.

I turned and looked at him, and he simply said, “I will go with you.” It was a command instead of a question. I found myself nodding, and he rose from the booth and followed me to the elevator.

I pressed the button and the door opened to the private elevator to the penthouse. He didn’t touch me, just rocked back and forth on his heels, watching the numbers count down until the elevator reached the 1st floor. I was so nervous I felt like screaming…what was I doing? I had to be insane. The elevator doors opened with a soft swishing sound, and I stepped in, Antonio following me. I leaned my back against the far wall of the elevator and watched him board, the doors closing behind him as if sealing my fate. He smiled again, that sly smile that seemed to say he was reading my mind, and walked towards me slowly, not raising his hands to touch me. He merely walked until his body was just centimeters from mine. His eyes swept over my face, and his mouth opened as he considered me, still not touching me, but so close that I felt like fainting from the heat and energy that seemed to radiate from his body. “Tell me your name, querida,” he whispered, his sensual mouth appearing to be ready for a kiss.

“Catherine,” I said, in the same whisper.

He smiled. “Ahh, Caterina…I like that name. Do you desire me, Caterina? Do I…arouse you? Because I desire you…very much.”

I knew it had to be a lie, he was the type who got paid for what he was offering me. Charles had made sure I thought of myself as bland and plain, and my resistance towards this man began to rise.

“I…don’t think this is going to work,” I said, trying to pull away from his presence. He put his arms on either side of my head and smiled.

“Oh…I think it will, mi amor. Come, let’s explore…” He leaned closer and touched his lips to mine lightly, then smiled and kissed me more deeply, touching my lips with his tongue and asking entry. I didn’t know what to do. Life with Charles had left me with little experience. He preferred the beds of others to mine, and I felt like a virgin with this man…a very scared virgin.

The doors opened at the penthouse, and he pushed himself away from the wall, taking my hand and leading me out of the elevator and into the lush penthouse. The lights were off, and the open curtains revealed the skyline of the city, glittering like jewels in the treasure chest of a goddess. Antonio looked at it and smiled.

“Muy hermosa, si? But my home, in Spain…that was much more beautiful than this.”

“You are from Spain?” I said, glad for the moment of normality to take the edge off my nervousness. “I was there once…on a business trip with my husband.” I tossed my purse onto the sofa, and walked to the kitchen, to get a drink. “Do you want something to drink, Antonio?”

He didn’t reply. I got a glass of white wine and returned to the living room, finding him still standing at the glass doors of the balcony, his eyes fixed on the skyline. He seemed sad, and I wondered why.

“Are you homesick, Antonio?” I asked, taking a sip of my wine as I came to stand near him. He turned to me and smiled a bit, a little lopsided grin that I found to be extremely attractive.

“No, not homesick…but I miss my brother. I left him in Spain, with my father. I had to leave Spain, after I recovered from…well, por nada. That was another lifetime. And…this is now, mi amor. Tell me…what you want…and I will fulfill it,” he said, coming close to me again and running his hands up the sleeves of my black silk dress. He reached up and undid the chignon that held my blonde hair secure, and released it, letting it fall around my shoulders.

“You should always wear it down, querida. Does your husband make you wear it up?”

“My husband died…and no, he didn’t care one way or another,” I said quietly.

“Ah,” Antonio replied, seeming to draw a great number of conclusions from that one statement. “Tonight, you will wear it down…for me, verdad?”

I looked up at him and made the choice. “Yes,” I whispered.

He took me into his arms and kissed me, pulling me tight against his young body as he ground his hips into mine. I felt a rush of desire I had not felt for years, since the early days with Charles when I had erroneously believed he loved me. I moaned as Antonio pressed himself closer. I could feel his erection through the silk of my dress, and I felt suddenly powerful in his desire for me. I opened my mouth beneath his, and his tongue plunged in, tasting and licking and circling around mine. I could feel his hand at the zipper of my dress, and the cool air as he slowly pulled it down, exposing my back to his hands. He pulled the dress down my arms, never ceasing in his kiss. His hands slipped back to my shoulders, grasping the straps of my bra and easing them down. He trailed his lips down my cheek, whispering in Spanish as they glided lower, down the sensitive skin of my neck, to the curves of my shoulders. I leaned into him, feeling unsteady on my feet. He stood back, letting the silk of my dress fall to the floor, the straps of my bra hanging loosely around my shoulders.

He smiled, and stood further back, taking my arms and spreading them wide along with his as he looked at me. “I had no idea how beautiful you would be, mi amor,” he said, cocking his head to one side as he regarded me. I felt beautiful, for the first time in my life.

“Make love to me, Antonio,” I said, my lower lip trembling a bit. I was scared, but I knew I wanted this more than I had wanted anything else in my life. Antonio came closer and swept me up into his arms, and kissing the rise of my breasts, he carried me to the bedroom, just off the side of the living room.

He lowered me to the bed gently, then stood up, reaching up to unbutton his shirt. I considered asking him to allow me to undress him, but I suddenly realized he wanted to do it, to let me see him, and enjoy what he was offering. I lay quietly, letting my gaze follow his hands wherever they went. He slowly unbuttoned the shirt, letting me see the fine patch of black hair that spread over his chest, narrowing to a tiny line that disappeared into his gray trousers. He shrugged the jacket and the shirt off together, in one fluid motion. His shoulders, his chest, were magnificent. I had the feeling I had missed nothing in my failed plans to see the art museums. Nothing man could create could be as beautiful as the form of the man who stood before me. He lowered his hands to his trousers, and smiled as he slipped the belt from the loops, his head cocked again to one side in a way unique to him. His hands moved to the zipper and he slowly pulled it down, the sound of it loud in the semi-dark, quiet room. My breathing was faster now, of it’s own accord. I watched as he opened his trousers, and I was surprised to find out he wore no underwear. His manhood sprung out boldly as he let the trousers drop, and he stood before me, waiting.

“Do I please you, Caterina,” he said, coming towards the bed to where I lay. I felt the pleasure of his body’s weight as he lay next to me and gently stroked the skin of my belly. I looked into his eyes and whispered, “You please me, Antonio…yes, you please me.” He smiled and lowered himself to kiss me, rolling now on top of me and putting his delicious weight on my body. I had never felt anything so good as the feel of his body completely pressed to mine. I reached up behind him and put my arms around him, kissing him back with all the passion in which he was kissing me. He pushed himself up on his arms, and put his head back as he pressed his hips into mine, and I moaned loudly, overwhelmed with wanting him. “Antonio,” I begged, “please, please…” He smiled down at me, and said, “Not yet…not yet…”

He began to kiss his way down my body, from the hollow of my throat to the globes of my breasts, stopping to remove my lace bra before flicking each dark pink nipple with his tongue. He chuckled deep in his throat as my moans rose and I clutched at his back. He continued his trek down my body, kissing the smooth skin of my belly and each hipbone, sweeping my silk panties from me, and then, finally, coming to the most secret core of my being. I tensed, unsure what he was going to do. No one had…ever kissed me there, and I suddenly felt afraid.

He seemed to sense this and lifted his head, looking up at me. His eyes appeared to scrutinize me, and then a light of understanding came into their dark depths. He came back up to lie beside me, and gently stroked my hair in a soothing manner.

“My Caterina…your husband, he was a cabron, si? You have never had an orgasm, have you…ever.”

I turned my head away from him, feeling ashamed. “No,” I whispered. He turned my face back to his, a forefinger beneath my chin.

“It was not your fault, mi alma. You are like a flower no one has tended. Your potential is unknown, because no one has thought to discover it. I will discover it, if you will allow me. I will be gentle and take all the time you need, and give you pleasure you have never dreamed of…will you allow me, Caterina?”

I put my arms around his neck, overwhelmed at his care for me. “Yes, Antonio…please, take me to the place I’ve never been.”

He did…oh, he did. He moved over me, kissing and arousing me until the moist heat within me almost seared through my skin. I writhed and moaned under his nimble fingers, as they danced across my skin. Finally, they dipped deep inside me, seeking the wetness of my passion for him, and then slid up, to touch the small secret nub that caused all of my previous feelings of arousal to pale in comparison. My hips leapt off the bed when he touched me, and he laughed lightly, pulling me back down onto the satin sheets.

“Trust me, Caterina…you’re in the hands of the professional,” he said, kissing me and dipping his fingers again into the secret place, beginning to make small, circular motions that seemed to begin to spiral within me, bringing all my muscles to tighten with a sumptuous pleasure I had never dreamed existed. He continued to circle, circle, circle, until I was begging him to stop, I couldn’t bear any more. He only smiled and whispered, “Oh no, Caterina…you are just beginning.” I didn’t understand what he meant, until I felt the tension within me burst in release, and I cried out loudly at the intense pleasure of it. Antonio continued to circle, circle, circle, and the moment I thought I would come crashing to the earth, he would send me flying again, up to the stars. I begged him for more, for something I didn’t even understand. He rose over me, and lifted my legs wide, then said, “Wait…I need to get…” I grabbed him with my legs and said, “No, no, don’t leave me…I need you…I need you inside of me…. now...”

Antonio hovered over me a moment, panting with his own passion white hot, and he only hesitated a moment before he plunged himself into me, thrusting hard as my legs wrapped around his waist tightly. I grasped his arms, crying out, “Antonio...Antonio,” and rode him as much as he rode me as we drove each other to ecstasy. Antonio couldn’t stop thrusting into me, crying out my name as he drove harder and harder, his face contorting in pleasure as intense as mine. He groaned loudly as his release came, and he kept thrusting, saying my name again with each one. He finally relaxed, letting his body collapse on top of mine in exhaustion. I wrapped my arms around him, our heartbeats loud in our ears, as we panted and mingled our sweat as well as our love in that moment.

He looked up at me after a while, and a slow smile spread on his lips. “I am the professional,” he said, kissing the tip of my chin. “But you are the inspiration.” I hugged him to me, and we slept like that, joined together. I had never felt anything so beautiful. I was transformed, never to be the same again.

I woke up a few hours later, the early morning light just beginning to chase the darkness of the night away. Antonio was gone. All that was left was a red rose on the pillow, and a note that said, “To my Caterina…forever mine, in my memory.”

I have that note still. I keep it in a special place, next to the red rose that I pressed and dried, to keep always. It’s in a frame on my desk, where I work as CEO of my husband’s company, now mine. We have moved from a 15 million-dollar company to a 15 billion-dollar company, thanks to the good business sense I always had, which my husband derided. I hope wherever he is, he can see me. I also hope that he will be able to see the day that my son, Antonio Jr., takes the reins from me and becomes the next CEO. His topaz eyes, so like his father’s, shine with intelligence and wisdom. The son of the professional…in every way.

Image courtesy of the Antonio Banderas Web Mall

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