by Gina

It started out to be a nice Saturday chica chat. I was all comfy cozy with a big bowl of popcorn and had started playing a great Spanish guitar CD. I was more than ready to talk non-stop AB. Everyone was there. ThriLLL. Debel. Peg. SusanLeigh. SusanS. Ann. Deena. Chris. Emmmannie. Sandie. JoAnn. SusanJ. Jillian. KC.

ThriLLL and Chris were sending over some great (as per usual) pictures of AB. But they wouldn’t seem to come through at all. There were some funny lines on my computer screen and everything on my keyboard began to light up and blink on and off. Then the modem starting making funny noises and the CD drive was shaking and suddenly burst open, and something flew across the room and abruptly hit the wall.

It turned out not to be something but someone. Someone who had morphed right out of my CD drive and popped right into my room. I was guessing that a call to tech support wouldn’t be at all helpful in this situation. I looked at the someone with more than a little surprise. Miguel Bain was standing there. In my room. Staring at me. Not happy. Not smiling. And as far as I could tell, stark naked.

“Miguel? Miguel Bain? What are you doing here?” I questioned.

“I’m f-ing here because of you.” he snarled.

“Me, are you sure you mean me? I’ve never done anything to you.”

“You’re Chica Gina right?” I nodded my head. “And you’re right, you’ve never done anything to me. You left me out!”

“Left you out? Left you out of what? What are you talking about?”

“You left me out of your kiss story. And you’re going to put me right back in my own kiss story. Right f-ing now!”

“Well, well, you can just forget that mister. I’ve got other plans for my next kiss story. And they don’t involve bathrooms. And they’re going to be out of this house. And parts of it may even involve the wearing of clothes.”

“No, chica. You’re going to do the story NOW.”

“Oh, yeah, you and who else is going to make me?”

He pointed to my computer screen. “Read what they’re saying, chica.” I looked at the screen, and everyone was freaking out. Every single picture of AB had been wiped clean from the mall, and even ThriLLL and Chris couldn’t send their pictures.

“You can help them, chica.” he said quietly. “You can get the pictures back.”

“And how do I do that?”

“Just do the story. Exactly the way I want it.”

“You can’t possibly be serious. Wrecking all the pictures because I cut you from a kiss story? You already have plenty of kiss stories.”

“We’re not talking about the other kiss stories. We’re talking about the one I was cut from. I will not be cut from a kiss story. Can you f-ing get that, chica?”

I looked at the computer screen and back at him. “I get that you’re a petty, jealous, crude, disgusting s-o-b.”

“Well, we understand each other then.” he snarled. “Don’t worry, I’m going to make the plot easy for you to write. You will fall completely under my spell. You will do anything I ask of you. You will beg and sob for me to never stop. And you should have no problem doing any of it. I mean, after all, all you chicas are just like that.”

“Just like what?” “You’re devastated by a mere glance from me. And you can barely contain yourself from throwing yourself at me. You know you want me, chica.”

“Want you? WANT YOU? You are so full of yourself, Miguel!”

“Yes, chica, and I’m waiting to give it all to you.” Well, chicas, I must say, that I was certainly between a rock and a hard, well, you know. The chicas needed their pictures, and Miguel wanted his story.

“Miguel, what if I could say, resist you?”

“Resist me, you’re funny, chica!” he laughed.

“No, I’m uh, serious. What if I could?”

“Well, you can’t!”

“Just for laughs, what if I could? What if I could defeat you?”

“Well, that would never happen chica, but if it did, hey, I guess I’d do whatever you f-ing said!”

“So, you agree?”

“Agree to something you can never do? Sure, why not, I’m feeling generous today.”

“Ok, Miguel, what happens first in the story?”

“We’ll play the game you cut out of the first story, the ring toss game.” I went to the closet and dug out the game box.

“You ever play this before, Miguel?” He shook his head. “You stand there in the doorway, and I’ll kneel across the room. Every time I throw a ring and hit the target, you take a step closer. And every time I miss, you take a step back. And if any of the rings fall off, you take a step back. Understand?”

“Wait a minute chica, we can’t start this story yet.” He walked over to me and reached for the hem of my sleep shirt and yanked it over my head. “Ok, chica, now we can start. But wait, I have a question for you.”

“Yes?”

“How good are you at this? How do you throw?”

“Miguel, I thought you knew, I throw just like a chica.” I threw the first ring and it flew past him into the hallway. The second ring hit him squarely in the forehead.

“You didn’t step back, Miguel.” He took two very very tiny steps back. The third ring hit him in the chest.

“Damn it, chica, lower, lower!” Somehow, I managed to get the three rings on. He took three giant steps towards me, and managed to keep all of them on. I looked at him in disbelief. “You never said how big the steps were.” I had to admit he was right. And chicas, I have to admit that it was becoming difficult to concentrate on anything besides those three rings which he was somehow moving slowly back and forth. Back and forth.

I threw two more rings on in quick succession. He was less than a foot away from me. And all those rings. Going back and forth. Hither and yon. To and fro. They were driving me crazy. “Well, chica, you don’t seem to have much room do work in do you?” he said almost smiling.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. It’s uh, like my closet, that’s it, like my closet, just when I think there’s no room on that clothes rod, I just push the hangers back.” Which I proceeded to do. And chicas, there was plenty of room to work.

“Uh, Miguel, this may be a little too much for you to take.”

“Why? How are you at this?”

“Why, I do it just like a chica.” “Well,” he chuckled.

“In that case, I’m not worried.” I took a deep cleansing breath, and took matters firmly in hand, and between my lips. I started to play him just like a flute, humming lightly and running my lips up and down his entire length. I stopped and flung all the rings off and reached both of my hands to either side of his tush and pulled him gently forward.

“What is this you are doing chica?” “Oh, those stupid rings keep hitting me in the nose. And I can’t get to your full instrument to play you the right way.”

“Play me?” “Well, I’m a professional musician, and I tend to do many things musically, so I’m going to play a symphony on you.” I really didn’t give him a chance to talk, as I started the first movement stroking him like a high strung violin. In the second movement, I went to the brass section and took him between my lips and played him at an up tempo beat while keeping time with my hand on his right tush. His low moaning was blending so well with the brass section, and I could feel him slightly starting to shake.

“Chica, chica!” I looked up. “Don’t you have an intermission, chica?”

“Not on this program, Miguel.” Next up was the third movement, and I went to the woodwind section, and specifically the clarinet. I wet his reed, slowly, over and over again, and then started to take him deeper and deeper. Down and down I went, right down to the bass clef. And beyond. I could now feel his hands threading through my hair. He was moaning louder now. I could feel him trying to pull away from me, but I reached for his arpeggios, and I held him firmly and deeply between my lips.

“Chica, let me go. Let go. Have mercy. Let me go.” I released my grip and gently and slowly slid my mouth off his very pulsating instrument.

“Had enough, Miguel?” He pulled me up next to him.

“I’ll be fine, chica, I just wasn’t prepared for, for, how did you do that anyway?”

“Well, I’m a singer, Miguel, I’ve practiced for years in lessons with a huge cork in my mouth to get me to open up when I perform. So you see, this was nothing for me.” A real lie, I admit, but he didn’t have to know it. “So what’s next in the story, Miguel, I’m ready!”

“Something that I’m good at chica, make no mistake. We’re going to get acquainted.”

We went into the bathroom and he started to run the bath. He turned me to face him and he started to touch me. His hands were now at my breasts.

“Chica, look at me. I want you to look at me when I do this to you.” He was stroking my breasts in the nicest circular motion. Rubbing his thumbs over my nipples. That was nice too. Then one of his hands trailed down my stomach and was gently kneading me between my legs. Soooo nice.

“You like that, don’t you?” he crooned. I jerked away and started to get in the bathtub.

“No chica, I get in first, and you get in on my lap.” He got in and pulled me down on him. He reached over side of the tub and pulled up his laptop. “What are you doing, Miguel?”

“I’m going to continue your chat for you.”

“They’ll know it’s not me.”

“That is no problem. I’m only going to type what you say.” I opened my mouth to speak and quickly closed it again.

“Don’t worry chica, I’ll make you talk. And I’m going to do it with only one hand.” That hand was everywhere. Feather stroking my neck and ears and then caressing my breasts. I was trying to think of every stress relief exercise I knew, but my body was betraying me. My breath was coming out in little gasps and I had closed my eyes.

“Chica, look at me. You’re always looking away from me.” I couldn’t stand to look into his eyes. They were pulling me down. Slowly drowning me. His hand continued with a downward assault, stroking my stomach and going lower and lower until his hand was between my legs, and his finger had pushed inside me. I tried not to, I really did, but I began to whimper. And then moan. I could hear myself say “Don’t”

“Don’t what? Don’t stop?” he said in my ear. “Look, even the chicas are asking you ‘don’t what? And look at this. Deena wants to know if you are singing this weekend. Singing. Yes. I want you to sing just like in the other kiss story. I want something with passion.”

“I can’t sing something I can’t feel” I choked. “Oh yes, you can. You’re a professional singer, right. You can perform whether you like something or not? Right? Be professional.” Well, chicas, he certainly had me there, and in the bathtub too.

“What do you want to hear, Miguel?”

“I want to hear ‘Tonight, I Celebrate My Love’, and you know what, chica? I’m going to play you too. I’m going to come to you like a , uh, uh, trombone. Ah yes. I’ll slide in and out of you just like a trombone.” I looked away half smiling.

“I made you smile at my little joke chica.”

“Well, that’s what you are Miguel. A little joke. A teeny little joke.”

I could feel him entering me slowly, pushing, pushing, all the way inside me. “Don’t worry chica. I’ll play you the best I can. I’m a professional you know.”

“I’m not worried Miguel.”

“Enough chit chat. You sing. I’ll play.”

‘Tonight I celebrate my love for you, it seems the natural thing to do. Tonight, no one’s gonna find us, we’ll leave the world behind us, when I make love to you, tonight.” As I sang, I started to gently caress his hard length with my inner muscles. The very same muscles I had spent years developing with voice training.

“Tonight, I celebrate my love for you, and hope that deep inside you feel it too, tonight, our spirits will be climbing to a sky lit up with diamonds when I make love to you to night.” I now started to systematically squeeze him up and down.

“Tonight I celebrate my love for you, and the midnight sun is gonna come shining through, tonight, there’ll be no distance between us, what I want most to do, is to get close to you to night.” I was now gripping him at the base of his shaft, and he was now yelling. And screaming. Mainly in Spanish. From what I could pick out of his tirade, he wanted me to let go of something or other. Couldn’t do that of course. I still had another verse to go. I’m a professional, after all.

“Tonight I celebrate my love for you. and soon this old world will seem brand new.” His mouth was at my ear now and he was begging. Begging me. Begging me to give him relief. And still I sang.

“Tonight we will both discover, how friends turn into lovers, when I make love to you.” He was crying now. Right on my shoulder. I now had him in a full clamp.

“Tonight, I celebrate my love for you, and the midnight sun, is gonna come shining through, tonight, there’ll be no distance between us. What I want most to do, is to get close to you. Tonight I celebrate my love for you. Tonight.”

“You win chica. You’ve defeated me.” he barely whispered. Somehow he managed to move his hand down to me, between my legs and he started to caress me. I started to shiver, in spite of my fierce grip on him. And shake a little too.

“Chica, you’re cold, let me warm you, let me come inside you. You’ve beat me. Now let me, let me come.”

“Say please.”

“PLEASE”. I slowly relaxed my grip and he started to move. Slowly at first. And then he started to move in and out of me faster and faster. And he finally came. So beautifully. So warmly. And so defeated.

Miguel’s forehead was resting on mine, the soft rivulets of his dripping wet hair were half blinding me; and his soft warm heaving breaths were slowing to a gentle caress.

“I’m going to have to get you for this.” Miguel whispered. “You know that don’t you? I’m going to get you next time, and defeat you. And when I get the strength to stand up again, I will.”

“Will what?” I said, not really listening.

“Will f-ing get you chica.”

“Oh, okay, next time you’ll get me.” I said not really caring.

“So did you make love to me strictly professionally?” he asked. “Did you respond to me professionally?” I returned.

“No chica, I have feelings like anyone:”

“Then no, Miguel, I responded to you just like a chica would.” I turned to look at the laptop. And everything on there was about ---me. I was straining to look at the chicas replies. I scrolled back to look and I had said the same thing over and over again.

“I don’t remember saying that!”

“Oh yes, chica, you said it, you must have said it, oh 30 or 40 times. Well, actually you didn’t say it. You screamed it.”

“Oh no, this is terrible. How I can show up in the chat room ever again? They’ll think I’m, I’m…”

“They’ll think you're some damn lucky chica!”

He pushed his forehead away from me and looked into my eyes.

“Chica, you’re going to have to push the button on the laptop to send me away. I can’t even lift my arms.” I looked down to see that Miguel was holding my hand.

“Miguel, my hand.” I said softly.

“I didn’t finish my story. I didn’t get my kiss.”

“Aren’t you going to ask me how I kiss?”

“I think I already know, chica.” I kissed his lower lip and very gently sucked it between my lips; and I slowly opened my mouth to kiss his upper lip. I pulled away very slightly, our lips were still touching, and I started to hum the song I sang against his lips, tickling him. His mouth curved slowly into a small smile.

“So Miguel, are you going to be a good boy and put all the pictures back?”

“Yes, chica, I’m going to put the pictures back, but I can’t be a good boy, you know that.”

“Yes I guess I do.”

“Now it’s time, chica, time for me to go. Now look at me, don’t look away when you do it. And one more thing, we’ll see each other again. And then you’ll be the defeated one.” I looked at him and closed my eyes and pushed the button. And he was gone.

I stumbled back to my computer to see that all the pictures were back.

Gina: Well, I see that the pictures are finally back. ThriLLL: Gina, what have you been doing?

Annie: Yes, Gina, we thought you went out into orbit.

KC: What’s up Gina? You been hitting the sauce?

Jillian: You have somebody else there with you?

Deena: Oh tell, tell, tell. Did you ring your bell? You sang to him? He filled you to the brim?

Gina: I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve been kicked off and on by AOL all night.

ThriLLL: Oh, yeah, right. And I’ve got some swamp land in Florida to sell you.

SusanS: You know you can’t get anything past us, Gina. You might as well give it up. So tell.

And so I did. Just like a chica.

Image Courtesy of Janet-Sunshine

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