Life And Death

By Chrissy

Carolina clutched at the stifling air, sucking it into her lungs. Sometimes she felt she might actually die from the excessive pleasure Antonio gave her. Her gasps grew loud. Her body squirmed madly. Her heart hammered about.

"Hey, stay still," He lifted his head, his tongue stopped its magic and Carolina came back to earth with a bump.

Making a laborious effort to drag herself back into the real world, she drew her thighs heavily across the tangled, sex damp sheets and pulled herself up to a sitting position. Shaking her head, she tried to gain control of spinning senses. Her dark brown eyes met those of her husband, Antonio, and she sighed. "The kids will be back soon," she said, her voice low and anxious. "We've been at this all afternoon, you know."

He pushed the long, tangled hair from his flushed face. "Time well spent, I'd say," he chuckled.

She pouted with troubled guilt. "No it isn't, Antonio! I've got papers to mark. Things to do. This was supposed to be a quickie." Carolina was a teacher at the local school and was enjoying a rare school day at home away from class because of the overnight field trip of her students.

"You've been married to me all these years," Antonio sat cross-legged, his hand moving up her thigh and then back between her legs. Three fingers slipped inside his wife's vagina and he curved his knuckles, knowing exactly how the sensation would affect her. "You know I don't do quickies," he teased.

But Carolina was no longer aware. Carolina had collapsed back onto the pillows, her eyes scrunched closed, her mouth open, her breath gasping, her body writhing. "Oh God! Antonio! What are you doing to me now?"

She couldn't help herself, his fingers inside felt so good. She grabbed his wrist, holding him, keeping him tight inside as she rotated her pelvis and bore down on him. But Antonio needed release; he was bone hard yet again. He moved to straddle his wife, taking his fingers from her and replacing them with his penis. He pushed hard, his hands moving under her buttocks butting her up and down as his thrusts sent her over the edge of pleasure once again.

They lay in each other's arms wholly content, completely worn out but satisfied. After so many years of marriage they had each reached the same combination of experience, energy, controlled violence and instinctive understanding in their very frequent lovemaking.

Carolina wanted to stay in his arms forever. But she knew her daughter Stella would be coming home from school soon.

At the thought, Carolina closed her eyes, a frown creasing her brow. Her daughter was a worry. Stella was not only an incredibly beautiful girl of fifteen; she was blessed with an amazingly clever mind. Intelligent, exquisite, courageous, filled with a raw forceful passion, Stella was her father personified. She was so much like Antonio, it sometimes scared Carolina.

The girl was a whirlwind of exuberant enthusiasm at one moment and in the deepest depths of despair the next. Sometimes she loved the whole world, other times she hated everything. Carolina never knew what to make of the child. Sometimes they screamed at each other, sometimes they hugged, sometimes they cried. But just lately Stella had changed. Uncharacteristically sullen and moody, she hardly spoke to either one of them these days. Confused and worried, Carolina had attempted to talk to her daughter, but she would clam up the minute the conversation became personal.

"Penny for them," Antonio whispered, his breath warm on her ear.

"What?" she pushed her worries away. "What did you say?"

"You have that worried look again. What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing." She turned away from him, but he snuggled in close against her back pulling her into a tight embrace. "I'm just thinking that we shouldn't waste time like this."

He laughed, "Waste time? Is that what you call fucking? Wasting time? Honey, we haven't spent an afternoon in bed like this for months. You're always working…"

"*I'm* always working?" she cut into his words angrily. "Excuse me, Antonio, but YOU are the one who's gone most nights. YOU are the one who decided to take a night job and leave your family all alone in the evenings."

She felt him stiffen, "Oh, Christ. Here we go."

Carolina gave a heavy sigh, her face petulant, her voice taking on a whining tone that she hated, but couldn't help. "Well, you know how much I dislike being alone all evening. What on earth possessed you to take that job at the hotel? You were just settling into your position at the school. Rupert was willing to support your application to teachers' college. Do you have ANY idea how generous his offer was?"

"Oh fuck! Don't start THAT again, Carolina! I've fucking heard it all a thousand times. I don't want to work at a school, okay? I'm not cut out for a suit and tie."

"But you enjoyed it. You told me how much you enjoyed it!" she insisted.

"I enjoyed it for a while," his voice was low and even, his anger controlled. "But it was just something to try for a while. I never had any intention of making a career out of it."

"That's your problem. You never intend for anything to be a career. You just drift about from job to job."

"And that's the way I like it! I've always worked. You and the kids have never gone without a fucking thing!" He spoke between his teeth, biting off each word with a savage snap. Their nice, comfortable mood broken - the air became uneasy with tension.

Carolina chewed her lip, exasperation filling her. A year ago Antonio had taken a position at her school as a teaching assistant. It had worked out well, much better than anyone had expected. The children loved Antonio and he seemed to love them. He fitted in so well, that the vice-principal was willing to overlook Antonio's lack of formal schooling and sponsor his application to college. Carolina had been beside herself with pride and joy. It had been so wonderful driving to work with Antonio each day, to watch him with the students. She had thought he was happy, that he was content. She thought he had finally found his calling in life.

But out of the blue he had quit. "I just don't want to do it anymore," was all he would say. "I want to try something new."

Carolina had been confused and hurt. She would never understand him. Never. Not in a million years. Sometimes the fact terrified her. He was her husband, but she would never know him. Not completely. Not the way a wife was supposed to know her husband.

Antonio had been a difficult man to understand right from the beginning of their relationship. But he had prevailed over his nomadic ways and settled down to domestic life. The wandering, untamed mariachi she had married all those many years ago had ceased to exist. He remained in one place, he loved one woman, he raised a family, and he seemed content. But his life as a drifter never left him. Not really. Not in the area of employment, anyway. Antonio moved about constantly. It always seemed to Carolina that the minute Antonio became proficient, the minute he had nothing new to learn, he would leave. No matter what the job, no matter what the prospects, no matter how successful he became, Antonio would walk away. He would simply walk away. "I decided to quit," was all he would say.

He had drifted in and out of jobs for the past eighteen years of their marriage. Not having much in the way of education, he mostly worked in construction, moving about from site to site. For the most part, Carolina didn't mind. He always brought home good money and she had to admit the physical work kept him in good shape. While she had gained weight and become soft and plump, Antonio remained rock hard and beautiful. Wide shouldered, slim hipped, not an ounce of flab anywhere, the sight of his hard little ass in a pair of pale blue denim jeans would inevitably cause her stomach to flip, her tongue to wet lips that had suddenly grown dry with hunger.

But now she tossed back her long hair, frustration in her eyes. "But to leave such a good prospect, Antonio. It's crazy. You loved the school. You loved the kids. You are a born teacher, I know it. Everything was going so well."

"Carolina," Antonio's voice was strained, his jaw set tensely. "I don't want to talk about this, okay? I was happy for a while, but then I wanted to try something new."

"Oh? And singing at the Green Moon Hotel appealed to you more than being a teacher, I suppose? Is that it?"

Angrily he stood up from the bed. "I'm going outside for some peace and quiet."

"Oh, yes, that's right! Run away," she yelled, her voice ugly with rage. "Run away like you always do. Run away when the conversation gets difficult. When things aren't going YOUR way. Run away like you did that day in Acapulco, leaving me pregnant and alone."

She stopped suddenly, a little cry falling from her lips. She raised a hand to her mouth wishing she could clutch back the words. What on earth had possessed her to say such an awful spiteful thing? She stared up at him with stunned helplessness and passionate remorse. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean…" she cried frantically.

But he spun away from her, his face rigid in fury. "I'm sorry…" she started again, but he was stomping across the room. He wrenched open the closet door almost ripping it from its hinges and she watched as he pulled his cigarettes and lighter from a pocket in his jacket.

When she had first met him, Antonio had been a heavy smoker. Following their marriage, he had made a valiant effort to quit, but it had been difficult for him. Still, she figured the two or three cigarettes he now smoked each day were nothing compared to the two or three packs a day he used to smoke. She watched as he lit his cigarette and stomped over to the window, where he stood looking out, exhaling a stream of smoke that caught in a playful breeze and drifted out through the open window.

"Antonio, I'm sorry," she started again, but his black look stopped her words dead.

"Just shut the fuck up, okay?" he whispered through clenched teeth.

Carolina rolled over onto her stomach, a whimper of anguish falling from her lips. She felt terrible. Why oh why did she say these hurtful things to him? He was a good man. A fine man. She stared at him through tear filled eyes, her gaze roving up and down his naked body as he stood in the bright sunlight. Not just a fine man, Antonio was a fine figure of a man. Almost decadent in his beauty. That was the whole problem.

Antonio was now a man in his mid-forties, yet he had scarcely aged over the years. The only give away was the amount of silver in his thick, curly hair, which he continued to wear loose to his shoulders or pulled back into a ponytail. The laugh lines about his eyes might be deeper and more pronounced, but that was all. He remained youthful and vigorous and appeared years younger than his age.

For Carolina, her husband's good looks had become a troublesome burden she must bear. It was not easy being married to such a knockout. People did a double take when he passed by. She saw them. She saw the looks. Over the years, Carolina had tried to ignore the explicit comments, the often obvious and open flirting and teasing from women and sometimes male friends, but it was difficult. Even in the teachers' staff room on Antonio's first day in his position as an education assistant, she had been very aware of the change in atmosphere as they walked in. Everyone had stopped talking and stared.

"This is my husband, Antonio," she had introduced him proudly. "He's working in the intermediate division as an education assistant. Today's his first day."

Everyone had gaped, open-mouthed. "Christ Almighty," Yolanda had blurted, and then suddenly giggled in embarrassment. "Jeez, Carolina, you never told us your husband is so…so…" she searched for a word, "yummy," she finished breathlessly.

Antonio had smiled easily and shook hands with everyone and they all loved him in an instant. He was not only good looking; his winning charm won everyone over immediately. Antonio was totally at ease with his effect on people. He hardly acknowledged his looks.

However, Carolina experienced the same old ache of possessiveness in her guts. She hated herself for it. She knew she could trust him completely; he had never given her one moment's doubt. But jealousy ravaged her. It was a painful torment and she could not forgive herself for her feelings.

And now Antonio was back working as a singer in a hotel. The thought made her squirm with worry and she buried her head in the pillow.

Their small hometown had grown over the years. Tourists were everywhere and hotels had sprung up alongside the new 6-lane highway. Antonio's sweat had built the highway and most of the new hotels. But now he was employed in an old pursuit from the past. Singing.

The Green Moon Hotel had hired him as - of all things - a lounge singer. Each night he played piano or guitar and crooned soft, romantic tunes to the hotel's clientele as they sipped their after dinner drinks in the posh Tarasco bar. It was a far cry from the dark smoky Acapulco nightclub where Antonio had prowled across the stage, his hips rotating to the hypnotic thump of a bass guitar, his shirt unbuttoned to the waist, his songs sexually explicit.

She heard a metallic clink as Antonio flicked his lighter to light another cigarette and she raised her head to look at him. He stood beautiful and bathed in the afternoon sunlight, his arm leaning against the wall, his cheek resting on his arm as he gazed thoughtfully through the window, smoke curling from his nose.

Carolina turned away and twisted on the sheets burying her head once again in the pillows. The hotel had paid for several tuxedos to be tailored to Antonio's exact measurements. The first sight of him in a tuxedo had numbed Carolina into gaping silence. Except for the day they had married, she had never seen him formally dressed before.

"How do I look?" he'd asked happily, spinning around for her to see. "These outfits were fucking stitched right on me," he'd laughed. But she had frowned, bitter with old resentment. She hated it that he looked so good.

"Watch your language," she had snapped. "The kids are home."

She had gone to the hotel to watch him sing many evenings. The hotel patronage was respectable, and she was positive nothing would happen. There would never be another Celine to entice him away. But she worried nonetheless. The hotel manager was thrilled with the response to Antonio.

"It used to be a few older couples, but now the place is filled with enthusiastic chicas," he'd chuckled, "I've made a killing since your husband started here. Hiring Antonio is the best move I ever made."

So Antonio sang at the hotel four nights a week. He would arrive home in the small hours, his hair smelling of stale cigarette smoke, still humming a word or two of the songs he had crooned that night. Tired and exhausted, but very content, he would climb into bed. He would always make love to her, no matter how late the hour. And she had to admit she enjoyed being woken from warm slumber to find herself wrapped in his arms, his cock anxious and hard and thrusting against her wanting to be let inside.

Why couldn't she be happy for him? She hated herself for her meanness. Still, if Antonio remained true to tradition he would tire of the singing job within the year. Carolina just had to wait it out. Maybe he could be talked into entering teaching college next year.

She watched as he flicked his cigarette butt through the window. He stood for a moment in thought and then turned and strolled toward the bed.

She watched as he walked across the room - his body moving with the familiar rhythm that seemed to have in it something of all the reasons why she loved him.

"Antonio…" she began, but he leaned over and kissed her gently, his long hair falling and brushing her cheek.

"I'm sorry," he whispered against her lips. "A man should never talk to his wife like that."

"No, no, it's me that should apologize…" she started, but he kissed her again.

"It still hurts, doesn't it?" he murmured, his face close, his amber eyes looking directly at her. "Even after all these years? It still hurts."

She nodded, a sob making her hiccup. "I don't mean to keep bringing it up. I'm like a dog with a bone, I suppose. But I get so scared that you'll leave me like that day when you went off with Celine. I'm so insecure, Antonio. I'm sorry. I can't help it."

"I'll never leave you, honey. I love you."

"But I'm fat. Look at me! I'm getting wrinkles and you…well you…look at you! You're still as gorgeous as that day you came striding down the street towards me."

"You're not fat, and you're not getting wrinkles," he insisted, his voice soft. "And I love you very much. I'll always love you. I'll never hurt you like that again, I promise."

They kissed passionately. Then Antonio pulled away and looked at her with a grin. "Let's skinny dip," he laughed pulling her from the bed.

"But the kids will be home from school. Stella will be here any minute. She had exams today and will be finished early."

"We've got lots of time," Antonio held her hand, pulling her out to the back deck, into the hot sunshine. With a playful grin he picked her up in his arms and tossed her into the pool. The cold water took away her breath and she surfaced, spluttering for air.

"You're a dead man," she laughed climbing from the pool. She chased him around the patio, but he dived into the pool, skimming like a fish through the water. Carolina jumped in and he swam through her legs lifting her up onto his shoulders.

They were both laughing so hard they didn't notice that Stella and a school friend had entered the back yard.

Carolina sat high on Antonio's shoulders, giggling swinging her hands in the air. "Ride'em cowboy," she cried. The sun dazzled her eyes but she suddenly became aware of two figures silhouetted against the blinding sunshine.

"Stella!" she cried in surprise, covering her breasts with her hands and jumping into the water, "You're home early. Is this your friend?"

Embarrassed, Antonio immediately turned his back on the two girls, his hands covering his groin beneath the water.

Carolina felt awkward and uncomfortable. The young girlfriend didn't seem to mind, but Stella's disgust was obvious.

"This is Ann Marie," she said through tight lips.

"Hello, Ann Marie," Carolina returned with a smile trying to appear as if things were normal and she were not standing totally naked in the shallow end of the pool. But she need not have worried. The girlfriend, Ann Marie, seemed to have eyes only for Antonio. Her wide-eyed gaze did not once leave his muscular back.

"I'm just getting some textbooks and then I'm going over to study at Ann Marie's" Stella snapped. "We've got Calculus tomorrow."

"But I thought you…" Carolina began.

"No, we're not staying." Stella's eyes narrowed. "We don't want to spoil your fun."

Carolina wished she had a towel or something to cover herself. She felt so vulnerable and exposed before her daughter and her friend.

"Come on," Stella urged her friend into the house, but the young girl appeared almost spellbound, her eyes fixed on Antonio's back. She had to be dragged away.

As they disappeared into the house Carolina turned on Antonio with a scowl. "See? I told you Stella would be home any second! Now we've embarrassed her."

"Sorry, honey," Antonio mumbled. Nimbly he climbed from the pool and sneaked to the clothesline grabbing a couple of towels and handing one to Carolina as she climbed the steps to the patio.

*** Stella stomped into the house in sullen silence, teeth clenched, not even hearing the chattering of her friend. She wished a thunderbolt from heaven would strike her, or that the world would open up and swallow her into its bowels. Anything would be better than this humiliation her parents put her through every day. How dare they prance around in the pool like naked fools! How dare they embarrass her in front of her new friend? Still, she had to admit, Ann Marie appeared anything but embarrassed.

They entered her bedroom and Stella flopped onto her bed, lying out flat with her arms folded across her face. She sighed loudly. Ann Marie bounced happily on the other bed, belonging to Stella's younger sister, Carmen, totally oblivious to her friend's distress.

"Fuck!" Ann Marie cried excitedly. "It's SO true what all the girls at school are saying. Your dad is SO incredibly good looking. He's SO a hottie!"

Stella looked up at her sharply and then slumped back against the pillows. She was overcome with misery. She just wanted to curl up and die.

Her life had changed completely the day of the Annual Father & Daughter Dance at her school a month ago. Up until that day her father had been 'papa'. Kind hearted, fun to be with, a dad like any other. She had loved him like any daughter loves her father. She never noticed his looks, never realized he was any more attractive than any other man. To her, he was just 'papa'.

She had been momentarily struck by his appearance when he came down the stairs wearing the black and white tuxedo he wore to his job at the hotel. "Wow, dad!" she had declared, momentarily overwhelmed. She had never seen him dressed in the tuxedo before.

But Antonio had also been taken aback. He ran his gaze over his daughter in surprise. His tall, beautiful daughter - her wide spaced eyes the same clear amber as his own, her long hair falling in ebony curls down to her waist. His beautiful daughter all grown up in a gown of soft white lace, which skimmed slender curves and revealed a new roundness he had never noticed before.

"Honey," he'd whispered softly, his eyes brimming with proud tears, "You're all grown up"

"Well, I'm fifteen now!" she declared happily spinning around for him to see. "Mom made this dress for me. But I picked the pattern and the material. Isn't it marvelous?"

Excitement had filled her as they entered the noisy school gymnasium and everyone stopped to look. She had thought she would be the belle of the ball. And she almost was. But it was her father, gorgeous in his tuxedo, who had stolen her moment. She had no idea that all eyes had been on him as they had danced. She had no idea that her father had been reason she was the centre of every crowd that night.

It wasn't until the following Monday at school that realization hit.

"You never told us your dad looks like THAT?"

"He's SO luscious, Stella."

"Why didn't you tell us you have a dad who's a living hunk?"

"He's is even more gorgeous than that movie star, what's his name? He played Zorro."

"Hey, Stella? Can I come to your house and study?"

"Study? Fuck! I want to spend the night. Is he THAT gorgeous first thing in the morning?"

Bewildered and hurt, Stella had fled the circle of giggling girls. But their teasing comments followed her everywhere. Nothing in the world could be more humiliating than having a father who was the object of her school friends' desire. Now she hated school. And when she was at home she found she hated home too. Her parents were ALWAYS touching each other. She began to be very aware of every kiss every hug. It bothered her at first and then it became intolerable. Sometimes she felt she would explode in anger and guilt. They were good, loving parents. But why couldn't they behave like everyone else their age and just ignore each other.

Her brothers and sisters never seemed to notice or be bothered by their parent's visible enthusiasm for one another. It was only Stella, highly-strung and fervently passionate, who cringed at every kiss, every hug, every caress.

She turned to her friend, who was still babbling. "Will you please SHUT UP!" she cried.

Ann Marie gave a toss of her head, "What's wrong with you?"

"He's my dad, okay!? How do you think it makes me feel when my best friend ogles my dad?" She jumped up from the bed and stomped about the room picking up books.

"Well, I wish my friends would ogle my dad. I think it's neat that you have such a good-looking dad. Your mom's nice, too. You're lucky, Stella. You don't realize how lucky you are. Your parents are real cool and fun. Wait till you met my parents."

"Let's go" Stella muttered grimly, shoving books into her school bag.

"Bye mom, Bye dad," she called breezily, anxious to be gone. Her brothers and sisters had arrived home from school and the house was becoming loud and boisterous.

"Stella, honey, phone when you're leaving your friend's house and dad will pick you up," her mother called from the kitchen. "Don't walk home. It's such a lonely road."

***

Stella strolled along the narrow gravel path to her home, lost in thought. Despite her mother's words she had decided to walk home. It was a brilliant, moonlit night. A brisk breeze shook the high grasses on either side of the road and carried the smell of fresh turned earth from outlying fields.

Stella was engrossed in thought. She was reflecting upon the inhabitants of the house she had just left. The evening had been awful.

Ann Marie's parents had snapped at each other like circling dogs the whole evening. Their words were bitter and nasty, even in front of their daughter's new friend. They had not even made a single effort to be polite or pleasant. Stella had felt awkward and uncomfortable the whole time. She began to think that maybe her own home was not so bad. Her parents never spoke to each other that way. Oh, they had fights. They got loud and rambunctious, but they never resorted to the belittling meanness she had seen tonight. And she had lost count of the number of times her father pulled her mother onto his lap for a playful kiss. Their love for each other was blatantly obvious every second of the day.

"Where's that damn coffee?" Ann Marie's father had hissed the words through clenched teeth, his forehead clamped in a frown.

"What's the matter? Did your legs drop off or something?" his wife had spat back. "Get the damn coffee yourself."

Stella reflected on the many times her father had come home, weary from a day at the construction site and her mother lovingly prepared coffee and a slice of fresh made pie and had it waiting as he came through the door. They always greeted each other with a kiss and a hug. The kiss sometimes becoming open mouthed and passionate, leading to a quick jaunt to the bedroom with the words, "mom and dad are going to be busy for a few minutes, kids". And her brothers and sisters always grinned knowingly.

Stella smiled to herself. Maybe she had been wrong. Maybe her life wasn't so bad. So what if her dad was a cool looking hunk. It was better than having a mean mouthed, nasty natured father like Ann Marie. Jeez the guy's jelly belly looked like he'd swallowed a beach ball! Stella decided she would hold her head high at school and be proud of her dad. He was something special. They both were. Both her parents were cool. She smiled and quickened her step, looking forward to reaching the house. She would give her mom and dad a big hug and tell them how much she loved them. Her step quickened with happy enthusiasm.

A movement caught her attention and she looked up abruptly. Her eyes narrowed as the moon crept behind fleeting clouds making the road ahead dim and dark. She focused her gaze. Something shifted in the blackness. She looked again. There! Something definitely moved. A quick feeling of apprehension swept through Stella and she slowed her pace peering through a sudden dense mist that sprung from viscous shadows. All around a menacing atmosphere swirled and thickened taking away the sounds of life. Her hair blew into her eyes and she brushed it away quickly almost dropping the textbooks she carried in her arms. She fumbled for a moment, her ankle twisting on a stone.

When she looked up again a man stood in the road before her.